#and I gotta figure something out for marie grace

[mydollsaregay]

im currently in the process of upgrading my dollhouse lighting, so the current atmosphere of the dollhouse isn’t inspiring me to take pics. however, all the lovely photos of everyone’s dolls in their costumes inspired me to take a few quick photos before I started changing all the outfits for winter gear.

i haven’t really been posting anything lately, but I’ve still been living my best doll life. I had a ton of fun figuring out costumes for (mostly) everyone. I even did a bit of sewing! I altered quite a few princess dresses and even sewed a batgirl cape for ivy!!

[adickaboutspoons]

Ah, Cuddling for Warmth, my beloved! And yet, I've never written it. So it goes a little something like this:

So did you know that Historical Blackbeard used to frequent the Chesapeake Bay? And that in fall of 1717 he was operating there with Stede Bonnet? Well, your girl is from Maryland, & has come home many a trick-or-treat barely able to feel her fingers.AU where Ed investigated why Stede didn't meet him, & stumbled across the scene with Chauncey. Stede is in shock, non-verbal, white-faced, practically immobile. Ed's survival instincts take over - he gets Stede to the dingy, rowing them away, keeping a running monologue about how everything's going to be ok; they'll be in China before he knows it. Stede eventually comes to himself enough to say "I have to go back." Ed is like, yeah, we can't do that right now. Stede is in full meltdown mode, barely able to choke out disconnected nonsense about "ruin" & "my family" & "I'm a monster." Ed is doing his best to calm him down, but he's only seen Stede like this right before the reveal of his plan to evade the Spanish, & Stede is the one that has it all figured out - is cool & calm & in charge when Ed is freaking out. He has no idea how to be that for Stede. He just keeps talking about China & how nice everything will be & they'll be safe. Eventually Stede snaps "I can't go to China with you! I have to go home! I have to save my family!"

Ed feels it like a slap. It would be one thing if Stede just didn't want to go to China. He'd go anywhere Stede wanted him to. But Stede doesn't want to go anywhere with him. Stede wants to go back to Mary.

"Yeah. Alright. We'll get you back to your family," he says, his voice leaden. "But we can't go now. Two infamous pirates ran out on their Grace & a dead admiral in the woods? There won't be a cove they don't scour trying to find us. Caribbean's gonna be too hot for awhile. We gotta go somewhere until things die down a little."

"Not China."

"Yeah. Not China," Ed agrees, stepping down hard on the urge to sob. Think. You can feel later, but right now you have to think. "I know a place," he says eventually. "Up north. No one will think to look for us there."

Stede doesn't say anything. He's huddled at the other end of the dinghy rocking & staring off into nothing, but he nods his head a little, so Ed takes that as good enough. The rest of the trip back to the Revenge is silent.

A tall ship can travel at up to 10 knots, but usually more around 3-4 (don't look at me like that, I already looked this up for a different fic), & it's ~1800 nautical miles from Bridgetown to Annapolis (go ahead & look at me like that; I DID look that up just now, but I have a nifty little nautical distance calculator bookmarked from the previously mentioned fic), so that's about 24 days journey, which puts them in Maryland around October 28th.

Ed was born in Bristol; though he's spent most of his adult life in the Caribbean, he's got his fair share of chilly, drizzly autumns under his belt.

Stede was Barbados born-&-bred. He's never been so cold & miserable in his life. He's consumed with what Chauncey said, out-of-his-mind with worry for his family (he thought they'd be better off without him. Oh, God! What has happened to them?), & if all that wasn't bad enough, Ed has been so distant since they got back to the ship. Probably it's finally dawned on him just how ruinous his association with Stede really is. Probably he's withdrawing to insulate himself from further contamination.

Good for him.

Since I'm a The Metaphors are Barely Surface Level bitch, it's all about cold as a metaphor for emotional distance & freezing one another out. It all comes to a head on All Hallow's Eve, when temps dip so everything is rimed with frost & Some Contrivance leads Ed to the captain's quarters where he finds Stede, hollow-eyed, feeding his precious library to the fireplace because he's just so damn cold & nothing matters anyway. And then there is bed sharing & cuddling for warmth (& maybe a little Ed having to hold Stede down to keep him there. For me. As a treat). Stede resists because he KNOWS Ed doesn't want to be with him anymore, & he's shouldn't force himself to stay. Ed is all "What the fuck are you talking about, you're the one who wants to leave me." They have a good, healthy row where everything comes out & they realize the idiotic assumptions they've been making & Stede gets to have his Bathtub Moment while Ed holds him. After there are gentle words & kisses, & IDK maybe make-up sex.

The next day they start sailing south again & something, something they'll figure out how to save Stede's family together.

And then I figure out what happens with the actual plot? Or maybe I leave it there, because, LBR, the "plot" was only ever a contrivance to get to the yummy tropes & emotional stuff.

[beansidhes]

THE THREE DEATHS OF MARY MACDONALD : AN ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK !

what  is  a  life?  a  series  of  yeses  and  noes,  photographs  you  shove  in  a  drawer  somewhere,  loves  you  think  will  save  you  but  that  cannot.  continuing  to  move,  ENDURING,  not  stopping  even  when  there  is  pain.  that's  all  life  is,  he  wants  to  tell  her.  it's  continuing.

FEAR by sleeping at last. plays over the scene where eoghan macdonald is informed of his wife’s death, while the young mary watches on.

MAGGIE MAY by rod stewart. heard when the bartender placates a young margaret macdonald by singing a song named for her.

HERE WE GO by norman. i will run, i will rise, i will grow. a bit too intense, but chosen mostly for the beat. plays over mary’s sorting into gryffindor house.

PROBLEMS by mother mother. you and me are not the same. i am a sinner, you are a saint. plays while mulciber & mary duel for the first time. as song choices go, it’s fairly deliberate - the jaunty nature is in direct contrast to the serious grudge that forms on this day, as mary beats him.

BITCH (TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE) by lennon stella. plays over the scene immediately following the duel, when mary hits mulciber with a zinger that he will never really forget. ‘our blood doesn’t look as different as you thought it did, does it, marcus?’ chosen mostly for the beat.

GRACE KELLY (ACOUSTIC) by mika. background music in the three broomsticks on mary’s first hogmseade trip, which also happens to be our first hint of her huge crush on sirius black.

THE NIGHT by the last days of our past. plays over mulciber’s attack.

MEDICINE by daughter. you’ve got a warm heart, you’ve got a beautiful brain, but it’s disintegrating. mary’s possibility by lykke li arc is actually medicine by daughter.

DAUGHTER by sleeping at last. and all you gotta do is put one foot in front of you. plays over the scene where eoghan reads through mary’s owl results and tells her how proud her mother would have been.

JUPITER by flower face. i’m certain it must be holy to feel something so pure. plays as sirius creates a private bubble for mary in the middle of a gryffindor house party, intensifies as he joins her within it. turning point moment, for what has, until now, been a schoolgirl crush.

BRAVE NEW WORLD by kalandra. is this the world we were meant to grow in? somebody tell me where we’re going? plays over the montage that closes out mary’s hogwarts years. juxtaposes the genuinely joyful flashes that are included within it and really intensifies the flashes of the ongoing war outside of the school - a war that mary chooses to fight, when the invitation is extended to join the order of the phoenix.

LYING TO YOU by keaton henson. and as we lie in bed i feel lonely, though we’re young i feel eighty years old. plays over sirius encouraging mary to go to the wedding as peter’s date. ‘that’s my mary.’

WHISPERS by halsey. sabotage the things i love most. lyrically really good, chosen more for those than the music itself. plays around the scene’s where mary is pushing eoghan away.

SEX ON FIRE by kings of leon. if it’s not forever, if it’s just tonight. plays over the final scene at lily & james’ wedding ; mary makes a promise that she will never keep ( to apologise to peter ), due to sirius sweeping her off her feet - literally & figuratively. a pivotal scene. it’s important to see them as the flawed people they are, and to note that intentional or not, their whirlwind hurt people.

TELL ME A STORY by ramin djawadi. plays over the scene shared between mary & maggie following maggie’s graduation from hogwarts school.

BABY TIGER by maple glider. i think my mind is fine, i’m fully aware it’s just the time. plays while sirius & mary lounge in bed ; mary traces sirius’ tattoos, and they share a laugh.

WATCH YOUR BACK by sam tinnesz. we’re standing face to face with the hearts that turned to black. plays over the attack on diagon alley, as mulciber advances on & subsequently attacks mary ( for the second time ).

SUSPICION by lp. crippled cruel emotion, enough to turn an ocean turn to green. plays in the background of the leaky cauldron while sirius and mary discuss the spy within the order, and theorise on who it might be. there needs to be a more acoustic version of it - this is the closest i’ve gotten to something with the exact vibe, but it’s important to note it’s not suspicion between the lovers and instead, on everyone else.

SAVE MY LOVE by lonr & amber mack. and now you’re slipping away, and i’m hoping you don’t drift too far. plays over sirius & mary’s fight. ‘go fuck yourself, sirius’ / ‘why would i do that when you’ve already done it for me?’

PUT IT ON ME by matt maeson. storm in the sky, fire in the trees. if there’s nothing but pain, put it on me. there’s no other way to say it : plays as sirius & mary fuck in the safe house kitchen. the only reason there’s a sex scene in this bio is because i wanted to attach this song to it, on the soundtrack.

SHE KNOWS (INSTRUMENTAL) by j cole, amber coffeman & cults. bad things happen to the people you love and you find yourself praying up to heaven above, but honestly i’ve never had much sympathy cause those bad things always saw them coming for me. specifically this version, which isn’t on spotify. begins with the safe houses protection falling & plays while caradoc and mary battle the death eaters that descend. continues playing even up to the revelation that mary is pregnant.

LAST MOMENTS by trevor gureckis. plays as mary snaps her wand and throws what remains into the sea below, before following caradoc back inside of the ferry they flee england aboard. i specifically wanted the ocean sounds and tune that plays at the end of old, but i couldn’t find it, so,

ELEANOR RIGBY by the beatles. eleanor rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name. plays over the first half of the end credits. the very first source of inspiration for mary’s character and what every other facet was built from.

[raineydays411]

Trauma really does bond

The umbrella academy x teen!reader

Summary: It’s time for you to meet your siblings. But what happen when your introductions don’t exactly go as planned?

You were trembling as you walked behind Pogo and Grace. Its ironic, you’ve waited your whole life for this moment. To finally meet your siblings and expand your family. A childish hope of your siblings one day returning to the mansion and accepting you with open arms. 

But now that you actually have a chance to meet them, you’re terrified. You realized that you have no idea how to talk to people. It’s different than when you talk to Pogo or your mother. These are complete strangers. No matter how many stories you’ve been told, how many times you read Vanyas book, you truly didn’t know these people. How were you meant to be a family? How are you supposed to-

“Y/n? Dear?” 

You’re snapped from your thoughts by your mother calling you.

“Yes, momma?”

“Momma? Pogo, who’s that?”

You turn, again surprised by an unfamiliar voice. There she was. Alison Hargreeves. She’s beautiful. 

Her hair is curly and blonde, with beautiful high cheekbones and glowing brown skin. Her as were kind even as she squinted at you skeptically in confusion.

“Alison, this is Y/n Hargreeves, or Number Eight. She’s your sister.”

Grace again gives you a light nudge, and you move in front of her. It was then that you realized that you are shorter than Alison, having to glance up to meet her eyes. 

“My sister?” She looks at you in disbelief, “How come we didn’t know? This wasn’t mentioned by the press or anything...” 

“Your father decided to keep our dear Y/n a secret.” Grace said wrapping her arm around you, “ She’s been our little secret for 17 years and 4 months.” 

“A secret? But why? I mean, what was the reason?”

“Your father, believed that the world wasn’t ready for a new superhero. Nor was Y/n ready to face the world.” Pogo said with a grim face, “ He had hoped though, that one day he would be able to take her out...but it seems that for now, Y/n shall remain inside.”

You frowned, holding back tears at the thought. You didn’t know that your father had wanted to let you out, nor that he wanted to be there when you were. But, what truly upset you, was that you had to stay in the mansion. Freedom was at the tip of your fingers and you didn’t even know it.

“Stay inside? You mean she’s never been outside?” Alison said horrified.

“Well she has been out in the courtyard and such, but Mr. Hargreeves prohibited her to leave the premises. Nor was she allowed to be in contact with the citizens”

“She’s been here all alone?” Alison asks sadly, “ With no one to talk to? No one her age?” 

“I’m afraid not” Pogo says sadly, looking at you.

You didn’t understand the big deal. Of course you were lonely, and wanted to explore the world, but you knew why you had to stay. You can just hear your fathers words.

“You have a duty Number Eight. A duty to your people and to me. It may not be ideal but sacrifices are hardly ideal.”

And everytime you thought about leaving, you’d remember his words and stay put. Besides you wouldn’t dare disobey your father.

Not after the last time.

“Well,” Alison says gently, leaning down to your eye level, “ Hello Y/n, I’m Alison Hargreeves, your big sister.”

Your eyes widened at her words as your heart filled with joy. For so many years  you imagined those words. You wondered how this whole thing would play out, how meeting your siblings might be. And to hear Alison so readily accept you, it brought tears to your eyes.

“Hello, Alison” You say beaming as you carefully step forward, “ I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you, Momma says you live in California, what is it like?” 

Alison smiles at your question, your demeanor like a small child. It reminded her of Claire...

“It’s very nice, maybe when we have time I’ll be able to tell you all about it.” 

Your smile widens as you turn to your mother excitedly, she smiles back and says, “ That sounds wonderful dear, but you should go and change. You know the rules. You don’t want your father finding you in your night clothes, now would you?”

You furrow your brows,” Momma...”

“No buts now march” She says with a grin. You smile at Alison but see the worried look on her face. 

“So she did notice how weird momma acting” You think to yourself. You stay in a daze as you walk towards your room. Worrying about your mother, grieving your father, and thinking about how you’re finally meeting all your siblings. Then as you turn a corner into the hallway that leads to your room, you’re knocked to the ground as you bump into a wall of a body.

“Ow!” you squeal as you hit the ground, rubbing the back of your head and peering up at the person you bumped into.

“Uh..sorry Y/n” 

“Luther!” You shout, your pain overridden by the happiness you felt at seeing your brother, one that actually knows you exist.

He helps you up, which to him is like picking up a feather, and  before he knew it, your arms are wrapped around his midsection. Luther awkwardly pats your back, not really expecting to be hugged.

“It's great to see you Luther! I read all your mission reports, or rather the ones that Father let me read. I always wished you good night though! Pogo always caught me looking at the moon with that telescope, I hope you don’t mind that I used it. It's just that I missed you so-” Your happy ramblings cut off by a Luther clearing his throat.

“Ahem...right, um hey Y/n, I gotta go...check on something.” He says gently pushing you away, “It was nice seeing you though.”

And with that he walks away, leaving you in the hallway as you stare at his retreating form.

“oh...okay then! I’ll see...see you later.” You say, disheartened by his brief acknowledgement. You sigh, walking into your room. 

“I don’t know why I try...” You mumble to yourself. “ It’s not like he was ever happy to see me before.”

You go into your closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Usually, Grace picked out your outfits, ordered by your father, but she didn’t leave anything out for you today. So, you settled for a black turtleneck sweater, a black and white plaid skirt, black knee high socks with some mary janes. It wasn’t really your go to look, but you felt like it was appropriate given the circumstance. You let your hair loose, curls falling into your face as you let it out of the bun you quickly put it in. 

You go to walk out of the room when you’re stopped by a gleam. You see the necklace your father gave to you after the incident. You stare at it, debating on whether you should put it on or not. You sigh, deciding to wear it, it was his funeral after all. You put it on, the cold metal never truly seem to heat up, the pendant heavy on your chest. You never grew attached to it. It just served as a reminder that you’re stuck in the mansion. You can never leave. Not until he let you and now...

You shake your head. Trying not to get into your thoughts, that's when you heard it. Little scratching at your window. You turn to see Despereaux, the little mouse  you saved when you were younger. Ever since that day it was like you and him formed a bond.

You open the window excited to see your little friend.

“Hello Despereaux, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” You whisper as you let him climb on to your shoulder. “ you’ve missed quite a bit since I’ve last seen you. How about some cheese?”

You walk out of your room, Despereaux nestled on your shoulder. As you walk through the long hallways, you bump into another body.

“Ouch, again?” You whisper to yourself, rubbing your forehead.

“Hey watch it...teenage girl?” A male voice said in a perplexed tone. 

You look up to see a man in some rather tight clothes and kohl ringed eyes.

“Hello” You quietly mutter with a soft smile. “I’m Y/n”

“You are adorable.” The man says, “ Where has the old man been hiding you?” 

You blush looking down at your feet, you were never really complimented. Only by Grace.

“ Aww” The man squeals, squishing you to his body. He smelled like booze and sweat but the hug was nice, “ I have no idea who you are but I’m your uncle Klaus from now on.”

“You’re Klaus?” You say excitedly, “ I’m so glad to meet you!” 

You wrap your arms around him, feeling the outline of something hard and metal in the back of his pants. You ignored it though, happy to meet another one of your siblings.

“Ugh it’s so nice to be around someone who isn’t a total stick in the mud.” Klaus says letting go of you, “ Like Luther, all that rage in that big body” 

You giggle at his words and eccentric behavior. It was a stark contrast to the ridgid stoic behavior that you’re used to. Klaus’ grand gestures and silly nature was new to you.

“I’ve heard alot about you.” You say happily, “ Mama always tells me stories about how you used to steal  her shoes and skirts and Father said--”

“Father?” Klaus asked, “ You mean ol’ Reggie bought you too? Or are you like..his offspring? Eww! I don’t want to think about that, shut up Ben.”

Ben?

“Father adopted me, I was born with powers like you.” You clarify for him. 

“Huh, so he managed to create another trauma case before he croaked.” Klaus said in a light voice, “Well. I always wanted a little sister.”

You smile, glad that at least two of your siblings liked you. But what did he mean by trauma case.

“Anywho, I have some... inheritance I need to collect. I, will see you at the funeral, das Kind” 

And with a wiggle of his fingers he was off, gone as quick as when you met him. Leaving you yet again, alone. You shrug off his odd behavior when you heard two voices speaking. 

“ah no, not to my knowledge.”

“But..the spine is broken and there's notes in the margins.”

“ Yes, that would be the work of.. ah Y/n, there you are.”

You jump in surprise, although you should’ve know. You can never eavesdrop with Pogo around.

You walk down the stairs, slowly towards Pogo and.. Vanya!

Out of all the siblings, she’s the one you wanted to meet the most. She, like you was isolated in this mansion. You felt a connection to her as soon as you were able to pick up that book. Your heart raced as you made it to the final step, reaching the first flower and into the living room where Vanya and Pogo were talking. You can see that she is shocked, as all your other siblings were.

“Pogo, who is this?” 

“Go ahead dear, introduce yourself. Just like you practiced.”

You smile widely, “Hi I’m Y/n Hargreeves, I love your book. I’ve read it almost five times now.  You’re Vanya! I’ve been waiting to meet you! You look exactly like the picture on the back of the book! It really is a good book, I-”

“Y/n, take a breath. Let her get a word in.” Pogo chuckled, glad to see that you’re comfortable around Vanya. 

“Oh, right. I’m sorry, father did always say I..tend to talk to much” You say looking down at your shoes. You didn’t notice the frown on both Pogo and Vanyas face.

“You...you read my book?” Vanya asked, still trying to figure out who you are.

“Yes, multiple times. It...well, besides the stories Mama and Pogo told me, this was the only way I got to know all of you.”

“Why didn’t you just come find us?” 

“Oh well..I wasn’t really allowed outside”, you say glancing at Pogo, “ Father said the world and I weren’t ready for each other.”

“You mean, you’ve been alone...all these year?”

“No, not totally alone! I had Pogo, and Mama, and and father too. Plus there were the robots he built, although I did destroy them...and the books and and..”

“Y/n...that’s..that’s not..” Vanya stopped herself. She knew that this must be a sensitive subject for you. The way you listed everyone in your life was practiced. Like you’ve said it to yourself over and over again. And by the grim look on Pogos face, she can tell it wasn’t only you who was sensitive about this subject.

“Well, Y/n..perhaps you should go on in the kitchen and help your mother. Your siblings will be meeting here shortly, it would be nice if they had some snacks, don’t you agree?” Pogo says, forcing a smile at you.

“Oh! Okay” You beam, “ It was nice meeting you Vanya!” 

And with that you scurry off into the kitchen, leaving Vanya and Pogo behind in silence.

“She’s been alone for...” 

“For seventeen years. Yes”

“Pogo...”

“You know your father...once he made up his mind...there was little I can do.”

Vanya sighs and pats Pogo on the shoulder, “It’s good to see you Pogo.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You skip into the kitchen, seeing your mother humming at the sink. You walk up to her and notice that she’s cleaning the same plate over and over again.

“Hi momma!” you say suddenly

“Oh, hello dear. What are you doing in here?” Grace asks putting the plate in the drying rack.

Pogo said it would be nice to make snacks for my siblings” You ask, then feeling movement around your neck, “Oh and some cheese please.”

You forgot Despereaux was on your shoulder, its a wonder that no one has seen him yet.

“hmm snacks we can do.” Grace says with a smile. She goes to the fridge and pulls out some cheese.

“How about some cheese and crackers? Its simple.” she says, “ ans Despereaux here can have his fill as well”

You freeze, caught again by your mother, “ Thanks momma.” 

You both giggle, and side by side you work on cutting the cheese and presenting the crackers. You feel a sense of calm wash over you. You usually do when you’re around your mother. She makes you feel safe. 

“Ahem.” 

You both turn to see Diego in the kitchen doorway.

“Diego dear, you startled us.” Grace said with a smile, “ Come help, we’re making you kids some snacks.”

He barely spares a glance at you.

“Pogo wanted me to come tell you that the meetings starting.”

“Oh, well go on darling, run along and I’ll bring out the snacks later.”

And with that she kisses your forehead and waves you away. She turns back to the  sink and starts humming again. 

You glance back at Diego. He’s glaring at the wall and to be honest you’re surprised he even waited for you. You pick up Despereaux and put him on your shoulder again, and grab some grapes and cheese then stuff it in your skirt pocket. Then you walk up to Diego with a small smile. 

He glances at you and scoffs, then walks away. You have to jog to catch up to him.

“You uh, you walk pretty fast” You say huffing a bit. 

He doesn’t answer you, he just keeps walking in the same pace. You stay silent as well, the trip to the living room longer than you remember.

You finally make it, and you see all your siblings in the room, spread out. You take a seat next to Vanya. You smile at her and take a glance around the room. Luther is sat at the couch across from you and Vanya. Allison and Diego are sat on some chairs, and Klaus is at the bar. 

The six of you sit in an awkward silence until Luther clears his throat.

“ So I guess we should get this started.” He says standing up, “ So I figured we can have sort of a memorial service. At the courtyard at sundown, say a few words. At dad’s favorite spot.”

You nod along and hear Alison speak up, “ Dad had a favorite spot?”

“Yeh at the oak tree, we used to sit out there all the time. None of you did that?” Luther asks.

“Oh yeah, after training” you chime in, causing the adults to look at you. You heard Diego scoff again and saw Luther quickly furrow his brow then smooth out his face again.

“Will there be refreshments?” Klaus asks walking out from behind the bar, “ Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.” 

He goes to take a seat next to you when Luther speaks up

“What? No, and put that out. You know dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

You roll your eyes. If you had to choose one thing to hate about Luther, you’d choose his insistent need to always be on your Father's good side. He can be such a downer sometimes.

“Is that my skirt?”

You hadn’t even noticed Klaus in the skirt. If you had to be honest, it did really suit him. You let out a small laugh, hearing Klaus mention his “bits”.

“Listen up.”

Oh boy, you’ve heard this tone before. You really forgot how stern Luther could be.

“There’s still some important things that we need to discuss alright ?”

“Um Luther” you squeak out, “ what more is there to talk about? Its not like Father had many friends we can invite. And his only family is us...”

“Yeah. The kids right, what else is there to discuss?” Diego asks.

You turn to him in surprise, this is basically the first time he acknowledged you unprompted. You send him a smile that, as expected, he ignores.

Oh well, small steps.

“ The way he died.”

“ And here we go”

You scrunch your eyebrows, “the way he died?”

Klaus sits next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as Vanya speaks up,

“I don’t understand, I thought they said it was a heart attack...”

“A heart attack?” You ask, realizing that no one’s really did tell you how your father died..

You’re question gained a suspicious look from Luther and confusion from the rest.

“ Y/n...you didn’t know?” Alison asked gently.

“ no one told me...” You say quietly, feeling nervous from the sudden attention.

“Well, According or to the coroner it was.” Luther continues.

“Well wouldn’t they know?”

“Theoretically..”

“Theoretically??”

You don’t understand. You don’t understand why nobody told you how your father died. You don’t understand why everyone was acting weird. And you don’t understand why Luther was bringing this up.

You feel a hand on your forearm, breaking you from your thoughts. You turn your head to see Klaus.

“ you lost in space?” He whispers playfully, “ I would be too, having to listen to Detective Daddy issues over here.”

You let out a small chuckle and whisper back, “ well technically we all have daddy issues.”

This earned you a quiet laugh and a pat on the arm. Then Klaus went to drink whatever was in his cup. And you tuned in again.

“ i’m just saying at the very least something happened. ” Luther says looking around the room, “ The last time I talk to dad he sounded strange.”

“Oh quelle surprise!” Klaus gurgles through his drink.

The rest of the adult ignored him, only sparing him a quick glance.

“Strange how?” Alison asked, continuing the conversation.

“ he sounded on edge”, Luther said, “ told me to be careful who to trust.”

He then gave you pointed look. You looked back at him perplexed, not knowing why he looked at you that way.

“Luther,” Diego chimed in, “ he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles. ”

You frown at that statement. Sure your father was old and sort of eccentric, but his mind was sharp.

But come to think of it he was acting really weird the week before he died. He started telling you more about your siblings, about your place in the world and how you were meant to help it. He spent more time with you more than he ever has your whole life. He was, in his own way, nicer to you. Nicer in training, nicer on your free time, nicer in general. He took you out to the old oak tree more often, and just sat there with you, no lectures, no tirades, he just sat in silence.

It was almost like... like he knew he was going to die. 



“I can’t just call dad in the afterlife and be like, “ hey dad can you stop playing tennis with Hitler really quick and take a quick call?’” Klaus says exasperatedly.

Oh right you forgot, he can talk to ghosts.

“ since when? that’s your thing.” Luther asks

“ i’m not in the right... Frame of mind!!” 

“ You’re high?” Alison asks

“Yeah!” Klaus laughs, “ Who wouldn’t be listening to this nonsense. Right kiddo?”

He nudged you gently look at you for confirmation.

Your eyes widen and before you can even answer Diego cut you off,

“ Don’t bring her in this, she probably isn’t even know what being high is.”

You most certainly do. You’re not a child.

“ Look, just sober up this is important!” Luther demands , then continues on, “ and then there’s the missing monocle.”

“Who gives a shit about the missing monocle?” Diego mutters.

“ Father is missing his monocle?” You ask, getting ignored again.

“Exactly, it’s worthless.” Luther states, “ so whoever took it it must’ve been personal.”

The group starts to actually pay attention to him

“ Someone close to him, someone with a grudge.” He determines.

Wait...he’s not implying..

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus asks

“Oh, isn’t obvious Klaus?” Diego taunts, “ He thinks one of us killed dad.”

Luther grunts, but doesn’t deny his accusation.

The room goes silent as everyone tries to come to terms with what was revealed.

“ Luther...” you start sadly, feeling hurt and betrayed.

“You do?” Klaus asks in disbelief

“How could you think that?” Vanya chimes in

“ is it really that far-fetched?” Luther defends himself, “ I mean, it’s not secret how much you all hate him.”

“Luther.” Alison says sternly

“ That’s not fair accusation, there’s no evidence or anything...” you say defending your siblings, “ Besides, no one came home until today. Trust me, I’d know.”

But that just turned him on you 

“ And where were you when he died?”

Your breath hitched, “ what?”

“ You’re the one who can heal people right? So where were you? Why didn’t you heal him?” He demands, “ Or did you let him die?”

“ Luther!” Alison shouts at him

You stay silent as you can’t think of anything to say. You already felt horrible about not being able to save your father. But yo hear it from Luther...

“I..” you start to say but get choked up. You feel the walls close up around you and the heavy gaze of these adults. You quickly stand up and run out of the room sniffing.

It was then that Luther realized what he just accused you of.

“Y/n wait..” he starts but you’re already gone by the time he spoke up. He turns to the rest of his siblings, facing their glares and betrayed looks.

“ Great job Luther.” Diego says sarcastically, “ Way to lead.”

And with that he walks out the room.

“That’s..that’s not what I’m saying”

“You’re crazy man. You’re crazy.” Klaus said getting up from his spot and grabbing his things. “Crazy”

“I..I wasn’t finished”

“ Okay, sorry I’m just gonna go get Y/n and have her help me murder mom.” Klaus sneers, “ You know, after I get her to stop crying, be right back.”

“That’s not what I was saying!” Luther says, “ I didn’t—“ he cuts himself off, seeing as everyone but Alison left.

Then she gets up to leave, but says this

“ That little girl has had it rough enough growing up here, she doesn’t need anymore from you.”

Then she walks out ignoring what Luther tries to say.

Leaving him all alone.

“That went well.”



[erinxneil]

When The Hero gets Saved

(or, when Marinette saves Chat Noir during an akuma attack and he forgets how to function in front of her when in his human form.)

Marinette gazed at her bare wall in awe.

Tikki swirled around her head, a collection of photographs and polaroid's held tightly in her grasp. “Have you really moved on, Marinette?” A picture of blonde hair with green eyes nearly fell from the kwamis grasp, but Marinette grabbed the photo and stared at it with a sad smile.

“Of course not, Tikki. But I need to. And this is the first step. Besides, I think that Luka deserves an actual chance.”

A soft grin graced Marinette’s lips at the thought of the blue-haired boy. After he held her in his arms during her breakdown last week, she has begun to see him in a new light. Although it seemed he understood her maybe a little too well, she was not too concerned with it. He was there for her. He listened to her cry about her problems while not knowing the half of it, and yet he was still there for her. He needed no explanation. He was perfectly okay to simply hold her.

Adrien couldn’t do that for her. Granted, she was sure if he had been there he would have been there for her as well, Luka’s presence offered her comfort that Adrien could not. This is especially relevant considering Adrien was part of the reason she was so upset. After this, Marinette and Luka began to spend more time together, and she decided that it was time to move on from the blonde boy.

“If this is what you want, then I am happy for you, Marinette.” The kwami nuzzled into her shoulder and smiled. Marinette grinned in response and began to walk to the door. As she was about to walk outside, a car was hurled just a few feet before her. Glancing into the distance, a giant creature was terrorizing the city. An akuma, surely.

Marinette turned to the side. “Tikki, sp- ah!” Before she could finish her sentence, a force grabbed her side and lifted her into the air, and the kwami hid inside her purse.

“Marinette! It isn’t safe out here. There’s been an akuma attack, you need to hide.” Chat Noir.

Internally, Marinette groaned. Yeah, and we would be able to end this if you left me alone long enough to transform. However, she knows Chat. He won’t let her out of his sight.

Once they reached the top of a particularly tall building, the cat set Marinette down. He turned to her and offered her a cheeky grin. “Don’t fear, Princess, my lady will be here soon enough and this will all be over.” She sent him a half-hearted smile before turning around and rolling her eyes. 

Before she could even begin to think of a plan of how to escape Chat, the ground beneath them rumbled. She spun around to face the giant rock-structured akuma. Mud crusted its ridges and dark eyes glared upon them.

“Why, don’t you look paw-sitively stunning on this gorgeous day? Do you happen to have a skincare routine I could follow?” Chat joked before leaping and narrowly missing being pounded into the dirt by the giant rocky fist. Each step or hit caused the ground to crumble in part.

Chat continued to fight the akuma, however he kept glancing over at Marinette or offering cocky comments, making it impossible for her to escape to transform. All that she could do is hope to help in her human form.

After a few moments of observing the fight, Marinette realized that the creature seemed to avoid the puddles of water that scattered the ground. Out of curiosity, the next time they were near her, she splashed a bit of the water onto the akuma. He angrily hissed, and shrank a small amount. Marinette grinned. Of course.

“Hey, kitty, I’ve got a plan!” Chat glanced over with a patronizing smile. “That’s cute, Princess, but I really think we should just wait for Ladybug to arrive.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Just trust me, alright?”

Chat hesitated for a moment, before nodding and gesturing for her to proceed.

“I need you to lead him downstairs, after me.” He frowned. “Aren’t you going to be in danger if he’s following you?” Marinette smiled. “Thanks for the concern, kitty, but I’ll be fine. Trust me.” He sighed. Chat did not like this plan, but he obliged. A few moments after Marinette ran downstairs, Chat ran down after her, making sure the creature followed him.

Chat continued to fight the akuma in the bottom floor, however he looked around, searching for Marinette. After a few seconds, a flower pot cracked on the creature’s head. It halted and turned toward the source in anger.

“Hey, hard-head! I think you need a bath.” The akuma ran after her, stomping as it did so. Chat panicked and began chasing it, before he realized her plan. As he drew closer, Marinette turned the showerhead and turned it on, coating the rock-figure until it shrunk the size of a container of nail-polish. As it shrunk, the bracelet on its wrist fell on the ground beside Marinette. She quickly placed a cup and heavy object over the akuma, before grabbing hold of the bracelet.

She smiled before glancing up, her eyes widening in panic. “Chat!”

Before he had time to react, she lunged into him, the roof crumbling where he had just been standing. Chat glanced at the area, chuckling softly, preparing to make a joke as he turned to face his heroine, before his breath caught in his throat as he realized their position.

Marinette leaned over him, her hands on either side of his head, and she sat on his lap as he lay flat on the ground. His eyes widened and he gulped, suddenly feeling heat rush to his cheeks. 

Marinette, oblivious to their predicament, smirked at the boy before playfully hitting his bell. “You gotta be more careful next time, Chaton.” She stood, offering her hand.

The ringing of the bell hummed in the atmospheric silence for a few moments before Chat blinked and grabbed her hand. “Oh-uh- right. Thanks, Mari.”

She smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Not a problem. Why don’t you go make sure no civilians are stuck in the remains of the fight, and I will wait here with the bracelet for Ladybug to arrive and de-evilize the akuma?”

Chat gazed at her, barely hearing a word she said. 

“Chat?” Her sweet voice broke him out of his trance.

“Oh- right! Check on the citizens. See you later, Princess!” He quickly leapt away before he could embarrass himself more, although all he could think about is how he never realized how beautiful her dark hair is and how bright her eyes were.

-*-*-*-

School the next day was unpredictable.

Marinette walked through the classroom door with Alya, chatting about their plans to help Mari move on from Adrien. As they sat down, focused on their own conversation, the blonde-haired boy entered the room. He waved at Nino with a grin, before he glanced up and his smile faltered when he noticed Marinette. Oblivious to his own actions and the bag on the ground in front of him, he tripped and flopped face-first onto the floor.

The class went silent at this, before a few of them laughed and stared at him, confused by the sudden clumsiness of the usually put-together boy.

“Adrien! Are you okay?”

Glancing up from his position on the dirty floor, Adrien nearly groaned out loud. Before him stood Marinette, offering him a hand in the same way she had the day before.

He offered a tight grin before grabbing her hand. “Thanks, Pr- er, Marinette.” She smiled, confusion passing her features for a moment before she brushed it off and sat back down.

Adrien sat down and immediately put his face in his hands and letting out an irritated sigh.

Nino laughed beside him. “Dude, are you alright?”

Adrien nodded, muttering something about how he didn’t get enough sleep last night, but all he could think about was the pink lip-gloss on Marinette’s lips and how she smelled of flowers and vanilla.

-*-*-*-

The next day, Adrien was prepared.

He had spent the entire night preparing himself, and talking sense into himself.

Marinette is your good friend. She did a good thing by saving Chat Noir. She is just a girl who you have known for years.

It seemed more he was trying to convince himself rather than anyone else.

Ignoring Plagg’s mocking, Adrien arrived to school before anyone else had gotten to class, making sure he would avoid the embarrassment of falling yet again.

However, in all of Adrien’s pre-emptive planning, he did not plan for what he would do when Marinette arrived to school with her hair down.

As she entered the class, she offered a smile to the teacher before beginning to walk past him to her seat.

He almost hoped she would walk straight past him and ignore his presence. Of course, however, she is Marinette, so she did not.

“Hey, Adrien! Good morning!”

The boy blinked up at her, just staring at her for a few moments. Marinette glanced behind her in confusion, before coughing awkwardly.

Adrien shook his head. “Oh! uh, good! Yeah!”

Marinette smiled softly, eyebrows still furrowed in confusion, before she proceeded to her seat. Adrien sighed and dropped his head onto his desk, ignoring Plagg’s snickers inside of his school bag.

As he sat there, thinking about how long her lashes are, and how sweet her voice sounds, he knew he was screwed.

Adrien would never be able to look at Marinette Dupain-Cheng the same ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope that you all enjoy and that this lives up to your expectations!

I’m considering making this a series or making more posts related to Ladybug, so please give your input!

This was entirely inspired by @princessamericachavez and her post about Marinette saving Chat Noir, as I had seen it on TikTok and everyone in the comments was looking for a fanfic inspired by the concept, so I made one! I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think :)

-Erin

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: “tricked into 7 minutes in heaven at a party” AU with willex, where theyre close friends and apart of the same friend group, and their friends know they both like each other and are tired of watching them dance around each other so they devise a plan to have a party and play seven minutes in heaven, and get them to be alone together in a closet or room or something. so a sort of getting together/modern AU with some kissing cause the boys deserve it?

I had to Google what 7 Minutes In Heaven is. Anyway!! I love this prompt so much, it’s so so sweet. We love some getting together fluff. Thank you so much for suggesting it!

Title from Alone by Heart.

The Secret Is Still My Own

Alex could have kicked himself for not realising what this was much earlier. It was probably Luke’s idea. Maybe Julie’s – she could be sneaky when she wanted to be. It didn’t really matter who had devised the plan, all that Alex was worried about now was the fact that he was about to spend seven minutes locked in a small room with Willie and the likelihood was that it was going to be utterly dreadful.

A few months ago when Alex and Willie had first met, it wouldn’t have been so awful. Their friendship had been fresh and exciting and there had been an easy banter flowing between the two of them that made Alex feel light and giddy. He had been glad to spend time with Willie then, looking for every excuse to hang out with him because who wouldn’t? Willie was funny, kind, intelligent, and everything good in the world. Alex would have been mad to not want to spend time with him. It didn’t take long for Alex to realise he was falling for Willie, quickly and with no signs of stopping.

And he made the grave mistake of telling that to Luke.

“Dude,” Luke had said, grabbing Alex’s shoulders. “You gotta ask him out!”

“What? No!” Alex had protested. He tried to wriggle free but Luke’s grip was like iron and he gave up after a moment or two. “I don’t want to. I like being friends with him.”

“Yeah, but imagine if you were more than friends,” Luke pressed, grinning wildly. “It’s not like he’d say no – he’s head over heels for you, man.”

“He is?”

“I think so.”

“That’s not proof,” Alex deadpanned. “You also thought that if you ate watermelon seeds one would grow inside you. Then you cried when Reggie ate them.”

“That was ages ago!” Luke whined.

“It was last week, but alright.”

“Alright, fine, I’m a bad example,” Luke admitted. “But what if I told you that Julie thinks Willie likes you?”

Alex considered it for a moment. Julie was definitely more reliable than Luke, and where Luke was almost definitely guessing about whether or not Willie had feelings for Alex, Julie had probably spoken to Willie herself to find out. So he shrugged and gave Luke a short nod.

“Does she think so?” he asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

“Dude,” Luke scoffed. “She was the one to point it out to me. You and Willie are made for each other, bro! Ask him out or I’ll have to do it for you.”

Alex hadn’t asked Willie out. It hadn’t been because he didn’t want to or because he didn’t think Luke and Julie were right – it was because he simply didn’t know how. How was he supposed to go up to Willie, a literal angel, and ask him on a date without spontaneously combusting? He didn’t want to make a fool of himself, not in front of Willie.

He had thought that Luke was joking about getting Alex and Willie together himself. That had, of course, been an incredibly naïve thing to believe. When Luke said he’d do something, he meant it – Alex should have learnt that from the time Luke had said he would lick an electric fence and then followed through immediately and without hesitation. So really he shouldn’t have been surprised when Luke made it his mission to get Alex and Willie together.

The first time it had happened was when Alex and Willie were hanging out alone in the studio. They had been talking, just catching up with each other, and it had been nice. Willie had been halfway through a story about one of the kids at the nursery he worked part-time at when all of a sudden the lights in the studio had dimmed and slow, romantic music had begun drifting from the stereo in the corner.

Willie had looked utterly bemused, a quiet half-smile gracing his features. “What’s all this?”

“I don’t know,” Alex told him, standing up and flicking the lights back on, then going to the stereo and turning the music down all the way. “Sorry about that. It’s never happened before.”

“You mean you didn’t set it up?” Willie asked.

“No,” Alex replied, looking around the studio. Unsurprisingly, he had spotted Luke in the attic, hidden amongst the beanbags, the stereo’s remote in his hands. He didn’t even have the good grace to look guilty, instead giving Alex a cheery wave.

“Oh,” Willie had said. His tone made Alex turn to face him – there was something in it he couldn’t quite put a name to. “Okay. Anyway, so, as I was saying…”

Luke’s plans had not improved from then on. He had pulled the classic “invite both of them to hang out but don’t show up so they’re just spending time together one-on-one”, he had dedicated an entire setlist to Willie at their most recent gig and told the entire crowd that it had been Alex’s idea, and every time Alex and Willie had a conversation he would find a way to muscle in and very unsubtly suggest they go on a date.

It was making Alex’s life a misery.

Because now every time he saw Willie felt painstakingly awkward. The both of them were just waiting for Luke to show up and do whatever he’d planned, after which they’d be steeped in brittle, tense silence until one of them found an excuse to back out of the situation. The ease and light-heartedness their friendship had once been built on was pretty much shot to pieces. Alex knew that Luke meant well, but he was almost certain that he had ruined everything.

It didn’t help that Luke had got Julie, Reggie, and Flynn in on it too, though they were much less heavy-handed than he was when it came to getting them together. Reggie’s main tactic was ask if they’d been on a date yet every time he saw them but leave it alone once they said no, while Julie and Flynn tended to talk to Alex away from Willie and try and convince him that they were, in Flynn’s words, a match made in heaven.

“He totally wants you to ask him out,” Flynn gushed on one of these occasions. “Did you see the way he was looking at you earlier? He’s in love.”

“Things are awkward enough between us as it is,” Alex had explained. “I’m not going to make it worse by asking him out.”

“Well, maybe you don’t need to ask him on a date,” Julie suggested, ever the voice of reason. Alex inwardly thanked her – at least somebody was on his side. “But I do think you need to at least talk about what’s going on between you.”

He revoked his inward thank-you.

“We don’t need to talk,” Alex insisted. “If we just leave it alone then the problem will eventually go away.”

“That’s always your solution,” Julie said.

“And it never works,” Flynn added.

“If you just face your feelings head-on and actually try communicating with him you might get somewhere,” Julie said. Alex looked at her and knew she was telling the truth – her eyes were wide and kind, her mouth set into a gentle smile, and she looked as if she wanted nothing more than to help Alex. “You’ve been dancing around each other for so long, all you need to do is figure out where you both are. Trust me.”

He had shrugged inelegantly and let Flynn change the direction of the conversation, grateful to be talking about something else.

But he hadn’t taken Julie’s advice. Talking to Willie was difficult. Their banter was all but gone and their conversations lasted no more than a few minutes at most. It was a lot easier when they were with all their friends, in a big group where they could talk to others, which had been exactly the reason that Alex wasn’t worried about the impromptu party Julie had invited everyone to that night.

And look where it had got him.

It had been Luke who suggested it during a lull in conversation.

“Why don’t we play Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

The suggestion had been met with excited ‘ooooh’s from most of the group sat around the studio, all except Alex. The last time he’d played Seven Minutes in Heaven had been in middle school – he had been locked in a closet with a girl in his class, she had kissed him incredibly awkwardly, he had blurted “I’m too gay for this” and fallen ungracefully out of the closet with six minutes still left on the clock. While that had been years and years ago, the memory still burned with embarrassment.

“Count me out,” he said. “That game is cursed.”

“I think you’re thinking of Bloody Mary in the Mirror,” Reggie supplied. “That game is cursed. This one’s just a bit of fun.”

“Absolutely not,” Alex said, shaking his head. “You guys can play, I’m staying out of it.”

“Oh, come on, Alex,” whined Luke, “everyone has to play! Otherwise it’s no fun.”

“You might not even get picked,” Julie said helpfully.

“But also you might,” Luke added.

Alex looked around the room at his friends – Reggie was smiling encouragingly, Luke looked put-out that Alex had even thought about refusing, Julie and Flynn were looking at him with hope and excitement in their eyes that he really didn’t want to crush, and Willie… Willie was avoiding eye contact altogether.

He didn’t know what it was that did it, but finally he relented. “I’ll play.”

Luke punched the air triumphantly and began entering everyone’s names into a generator he’d brought up on his phone. Alex watched with bated breath as the little wheel spun, slowing down until it landed on a name. The screen lit up with an over-the-top fireworks animation and the name ‘WILLIE’ in garish bubble writing.

Alex didn’t look at Willie, but he did feel his own insides squirm. What if he was picked next? He wasn’t sure he could last seven minutes alone with Willie. What was he supposed to talk about? What was he supposed to do? How was he meant to act like it wasn’t the most awkward thing he’d ever done especially after everything that had happened in the past few months?

Luke set the spinner off again and Alex watched nervously as it ticked through all the names. The firework animation lit up the screen again and when it was cleared the name ‘ALEX’ was left behind, glowing in all its bubble writing glory.

He tried not to sigh in defeat and he stayed put, no matter how much he wanted to leg it from the room and never come back.

“Alright then!” Julie said, clapping her hands and beaming. “Alex and Willie! You guys feeling up for this?”

Alex didn’t have an answer, but it appeared that Willie did. He stood up and offered a hand to pull Alex to his feet too, smiling gently.

“I’m ready,” he said, though Alex didn’t miss the waver in his voice. “How about you, hotdog?”

He could feel his friends’ eyes boring into him like lasers, but kept his own eyes trained on Willie, searching his expression with no idea what he was actually searching for. Eventually though, he gave a resolute nod and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

“You can go into the bathroom,” Julie said, pointing towards the little room at the back of the studio. “You’ll have to lock the door yourselves.”

Alex nodded and mutely followed Willie into the bathroom. He shut and locked the door behind them, then flicked the light-switch on. Immediately, Willie flicked it back off.

“Why can’t we have the lights on?” he asked. “I can’t see you.”

“Those are the rules, hotdog,” Willie returned. His voice sounded like it was coming from the opposite side of the room, but Alex couldn’t be sure. After all, he couldn’t see anything.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he slid himself down the wall to sit on the floor. He had no reason to feel so nervous right then; he’d been alone with Willie a thousand times, this didn’t have to be any different just because it was in a small dark room and they had a time limit ticking over their heads. Admittedly, he hadn’t been alone with Willie all that often recently, but he shouldn’t have been too out of practise.

“So,” he ventured, rubbing his hands along his legs, hoping the repetitive movements would dull his nerves. “What do you want to talk about?”

Willie was silent for a moment and Alex was sure that he’d somehow already put a foot wrong. Briefly, he considered unlocking the door and trying to leave very quietly so that Willie wouldn’t notice, but he realised quickly that plan wouldn’t work because he would never get past his friends in the studio. All he could do was stick it out for six and a half more minutes.

But mercifully, Willie finally spoke.

“Things have been weird recently, huh, hotdog?”

It teased a laugh from Alex, if only a small one. Because yes. Yes, things had been incredibly weird and he hated it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “it’s been weird. I’m sorry about Luke and the others.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Willie said. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and found himself relaxing. “It doesn’t really bother me. But… I mean, it seemed like it was bothering you. I’ve been trying to give you a little space but I don’t know if that’s what you want.”

“No,” Alex said, far too quickly. He tried to rein himself in a little, not wanting things to descend back into that dangerous awkward territory. “No, I don’t want you to give me space. I really like hanging out with you, Willie. I don’t want to stop that. I just wish they’d stop teasing.”

There was another pause, smaller this time, barely perceptible.

“Why?” Willie asked quietly.

“Because,” Alex began, but he quickly found himself lost for words.

How was he supposed to explain it to Willie when he found it hard to explain it to himself? He didn’t like their teasing because he was scared. He didn’t like their teasing because he didn’t want to make Willie uncomfortable. He didn’t like their teasing because this thing, whatever it was, between him and Willie was theirs and only theirs and he wanted to keep it between that way. Because he wanted to make these decisions on his terms, not when his friends decided he should.

“Because?” Willie prompted.

Alex swallowed his pride and his nerves and made himself speak.

“Because I really like you, Willie. And when our friends try and find ways to get us together it just feels awful because I want to do it myself. I don’t want them to intervene or mess this up. I want to do it my way. They keep saying that you like me too – is that true?”

Silence again. Alex could hardly stand it.

“Yeah,” Willie said finally. With that single word Alex felt like he could breathe more easily than ever before. “I do. Like you, I mean. And I get it. I’m sorry this whole thing has been such a mess.”

Alex huffed a laugh. “Blame Luke.”

“Oh, I will,” Willie replied through a chuckle.

Alex heard him shuffle across the bathroom floor and felt their sides press together as Willie came to sit next to him. Without thinking he laid his head down on Willie’s shoulder, then felt Willie rest his head on his in return.

“So,” Alex said again. “What does this mean for us?”

“What do you want it to mean?” Willie asked teasingly, the smile on his face evident in his voice.

“Are we dating?” he asked. He could feel his own smile tugging at his lips as Willie slipped an arm around his shoulders.

He felt Willie press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “Yes, Alex. We’re dating.”

Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the dark room, maybe it was the rush of adrenaline he got from hearing Willie day the words “we’re dating”, but something gave him a warm and welcome rush of courage and he said, before he could think better of it, “Can I kiss you?”

“Well,” Willie said, “I think that’s what usually happens in this game.”

“I don’t want to kiss you because of the game,” Alex told him. He knew Willie was probably joking, but he wanted to be certain. He wanted to make it clear that none of this was because of the game (mainly because Luke had probably rigged it somehow and Alex still wanted to do this his own way). He needed to show that this was for Willie and for himself, nothing else.

“I know,” Willie said gently. “I don’t either. I just want to kiss you.”

Alex slid a hand up to cup Willie’s jaw and they slowly came together. Willie’s lips were softer than Alex thought should be allowed, the kiss gentle and slow. It felt perfect, like fireworks had been lit in Alex’s soul (though much better fireworks than the terrible animation on Luke’s random selector wheel). He felt Willie’s fingers knot through his hair and pull them closer together.

It hadn’t gone the way Alex would have really liked. He didn’t get to ask Willie out on his terms. But from now on, with Willie as his boyfriend, they could do everything else on their terms. They could go at their own speed, hand-in-hand, with no ticking time limit set by their friends. They could move at their own pace with nobody but each other.

And Alex could breathe easy.

*

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @teammightypen @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright 

[alwaysbeliev]

I Can’t Lose You

Happy Valentine’s Day! This is for the @rdr-secret-cupid adventure this year. Thank you for the prompt, @bloodylove3 and I hope you enjoy!

summary: When Dutch asks you and Arthur to pretend you're married for a job, you're nervous that you won't be able to hide your feelings for the outlaw. You manage to keep it in line, but things go wrong fast.

relationship: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

word count: 3497

link on AO3

“Alright, here’s where we’ll start.”

It was mid-afternoon. The heat from the sun above was overwhelming, burning whatever it touched. Not even the shade was a relief with its cover. Animals all around were burrowed underground, hiding inside of trees, splashing around in the cool river nearby, and doing their best to stay out of direct light. You idly watched a small mouse scurry through the grass, digging at the dirt every now and then before disappearing into a hole. Quietly, you wished you were that mouse. 

For the hundredth time, Dutch was reviewing his next grand plan. There was a tipoff about a decent score, something that would help the gang move to a new camp, and it would be almost easy to pull off. Almost. But he was careful to plan, detailed to a fault, and now you had to sit through another lecture about making sure you were in the right place at the right time. He stood just inside the flap of his tent as he talked. The others were in a loose circle around him and Hosea.

You felt a drop of sweat slide down the back of your neck. What you wouldn’t give to go jump in the rushing water just a hundred feet away, even fully clothed. Imagining the relief alone made you sweat more. You could feel your skin throb, your cheeks turning red, your shirt sticking to your lower back…

“Hey!”

The sharp sound of Dutch’s voice cut through your daydream, snapping you back to reality. Others were snickering as you jerked your head over and tried to pretend you had been listening.

“As I was saying,” the man continued, “there has been a small change of plan.” 

Whoa, Dutch was changing his plan? But the score was just a week away now.

He carried on, “Arthur will be playing the part of your protective, but quiet, husband. You will need to cause a big enough distraction that we can enter without tipping anyone off. Can you handle that?”

“I thought Hosea was providing the distraction?” Your mind was turning, scrambling to remember if that was the original plan or if you were suffering from heat stroke.

“As I had said before, Hosea will be needed outside. It would seem awfully suspicious to outsiders if 5 men all seemed to suddenly rush inside together, don’t you think?”

You supposed he had a point. Outwardly, you agreed with him, but inwardly, your heart was pounding. Arthur? Husband? You barely made it through the rest of the session, managing to excuse yourself as soon as Dutch was done talking. Never before had you felt the palpitations on your chest that you did now at the thought of being with Arthur Morgan. Not just being with him, but pretending to be married. 

To say that you had a crush on Arthur was putting it lightly. From the moment you had met the outlaw, the sight of him caused your heart to race faster than his beautiful horse. You could barely speak around him, let alone carry on any conversation, and you were certain everyone in camp knew about it. Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly had approached you just last week to tease you about the way you fumbled over your words when Arthur asked a question. Now you had to pretend to be married?

The group dispersed as Dutch finished his grand lecture, chattering excitedly about the huge score. You felt light-headed and were rooted to the spot. Dutch was right, it should be easy, you had played the actor’s role many times before, but this… This wouldn’t be acting. And surely someone was going to notice that.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A week passed quicker than any week you’d been through before. You and Arthur had prepared a scene, practicing to get it right, and you were feeling slightly more confident. The cowboy still gave you flutters in your heart, but rehearsed lines were much easier than improvised ones, and you were positive he hadn’t seen the longing in your eyes. It was easy.

But what wasn’t easy was how inseparable the two of you were becoming. Every morning, Arthur approached you near the campfire, offering a small treat, typically a piece of chocolate or a small fruit. The first time, your cheeks had flushed hotter than the summer sun. It hadn’t improved much. You would review your plan for the score, pause for a lunch time meal, and continue in the afternoon. Arthur often seemed to have other ideas, wanting a change of scenery, and you would find yourselves a few miles from camp on some rocky outlook or on a river’s shore, just shooting the breeze while the sun seared high above. Arthur even managed to convince you to leave your horse once, riding behind him with arms wrapped around his chest, content just to be near him. 

Finally, the day arrived. The gang all arose early, gathering their tools uneasily. Nerves always ran high the day of, regardless of how much planning had gone into the score, and your stomach churned. Karen had lent a hat, Mary-Beth a beautiful dress in your most favorite color, and you felt so fluffy and over the top. When Arthur saw you, his face seemed to go slack, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“My, my, Mrs. Morgan,” he drawled, taking a few lazy steps to close the gap to you. “Aren’t you lookin’ mighty fine this mornin’.”

Pouting and embarrassed, you waved him off, brushing a tight curl over your shoulder in a weak attempt to mask the color rising to your cheeks.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, now, I’m only tryin’ to lighten the mood.” He laughed before looking somewhat sheepish himself. “Besides, you really do.”

You paused, taking in his sincere compliment.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t have time to respond as Dutch stepped out of his tent, looking the picture of graceful leadership, commanding everyone’s attention. As you turned your body towards him, you saw Arthur’s gaze lingering on your figure, the dress complementing you perfectly. You focused on tugging on your white lace gloves, trying to turn your ears where it mattered.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~

“Alright, Mr. Callahan, now, here we are!”

Your voice pitched up, you pointed out the grandest building in town: the bank. Arthur guided his horse to the hitching post before hopping down, turning to help you down, your big skirt catching slightly and flouncing as your feet landed. Grinning at him, you tugged at his arm excitedly.

“Come on, darling, we gotta go get us a loan! That house ain’t gonna buy itself, you know!”

It was clear you were amusing the man at your side. Your anxiety was causing a jump in your performance, pushing you a slightly uncomfortable bit above believable, but you were pretty and young and the men were watching you. That was all that mattered.

With a grand gesture, you shoved the door to the bank open, stepping into the marbled interior with your boots clicking. The teller glanced up from whatever paperwork he was looking at. For a brief second, he studied the two of you, his eyes lingering on you in particular, before a fixed smile appeared on his face. 

“How can I help you?” he drawled. As practiced, Arthur opened his mouth to speak but you butted in before he could.

“Why, hello, Mr…?” You swept forward, extending a hand for him to shake. He glanced at Arthur in disbelief before gingerly shaking your hand.

“Mr. Monaghan.”

“Oh, Mr. Monaghan, how lovely!” You grinned widely, shaking vigorously. “Yes, me and my new husband here are looking to buy a house! Isn’t that just grand? We just got married, you know, just last week! Oh, we had the most beautiful honeymoon, didn’t we, darling? Traveled to see the ocean, oh it was gorgeous! Simply gorgeous! Have you ever been, Mr. Monaghan?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t. Not the way you planned it.

“The birds were so lovely, there were so many of them! Oh, and the food! Simply divine! Have you had seafood before? Crab, lobster, shrimp, oh it was perfect!”

As you rambled, the doors swung in again, allowing entrance to John and Javier. You didn’t spare a look for them, your energy pointed at the teller, and as planned, he didn’t seem to notice them. Your shrill voice and wild theatrics had his whole attention. You carried on as the men got into position.

“They paired the shrimp with-- What was it, my love? This wine, it was a red, wasn’t it? Or was it a white? Mr. Callahan is just hopeless about these things, you know, I’m glad I’m here to help him. Oh we had the most wonderful time together! I thought it might rain one day, there were these horrible gray clouds, but he told me not to worry, even though I wanted to, and sure enough, the sun was out by dinner time!”

The doors creaked again, allowing the last two men in, Dutch and Bill. All 5 men exchanged a look and, in one swift motion, they pulled their bandanas over their faces and drew their weapons. It was satisfying to hear the clicks of a few hammers. Your grin turned wicked and the teller suddenly realized what had happened. 

“We’ll take that loan to go, if you don’t mind.” You couldn’t help yourself. Arthur quickly stepped forward, shielding you with his body so your face was hidden, and you hurriedly moved towards the back of the men, allowing them to do what they needed. It was relatively painless and quiet, the teller moving hastily and without hesitation, filling bags with money and even allowing them access to the room with the safes. You served as lookout, casually standing at the window to keep an eye peeled for the law. Only when you heard Dutch’s signature goodbye did you turn away from it. Arthur made eye contact with you and playfully raised his eyebrows as he strode towards the door and you, ready to make for the horizon.

Without warning, the doors flew open, banging against the wall from the force behind it. Several lawmen were standing, guns drawn, ready to take out the outlaws. Instantly, shots were being fired. You didn’t know who fired first, but you dove out of the way, gripping your hat tightly so it wouldn’t be left behind. For some reason, your only coherent thought was Karen would have my hide.

Men were shouting, the smell of gunpowder filled the air. Flat on the floor, you couldn’t see anything, only heard Dutch shouting orders, police filling the streets outside, the solid sound of bullets connecting with flesh. There was nowhere to take cover. Somebody stepped on your leg and you gasped from the pain. A hand gripped your ankle and dragged you towards a wall. Panicked, you tried to scramble away until you registered Arthur’s voice trying to reassure you. 

“You boys play nice!” a deep voice bellowed from the porch. “We don’t want no hangings, now, y’here?”

“We will play nice when you play nice, Sheriff!” Dutch barked back. 

“This is a fucking massacre!” John spoke to the room at large. The men that had entered before were all on the floor, blood pooling around them, their guns laying forgotten on the wood. More were shouted outside. They were organizing to block all exits from town. There was no way you were gonna make it out now, you started to fear, and you could see the shared looks of the men with you echoing the same sentiment.

A surprised cry arose from outside as another gunshot cracked through the air. 

“There’s Mac!”

With renewed energy, everyone jumped up and sprang for the door. Feeling marginally brave, you snatched a gun from the floor, hoping you wouldn’t have to use it. Bill led the way out. Javier, John, and Dutch quickly followed, and Arthur made up the rear with you in tow, sticking to him like glue. 

The sun outside was blinding. You barely caught a glimpse of the street before you were rushed down the steps and around the side of the building. Back pressed against the wall, the pounding in your head started blocking out your hearing, and you only felt the vibrations in the air and under your feet. Even with all of Dutch’s careful planning, you were still trapped in this mess…

Arthur shouted your name. He stood, almost pressed to you, eyes burning. You snapped to attention, gun at the ready.

“We gotta make a break for it! Be ready on my count!”

It was all you could do to nod. You saw his horse in your peripheral, antsy and pawing, but waiting. You tried desperately to calm your breathing and gathered your skirts up out of your way. At the mark, you all ran, each in slightly different directions to mount their horses, spurring before fully mounted. Arthur was first and you scrambled after him, latching onto his arm and using the momentum of his horse to swing your leg over, skirts be damned. With a sharp cry, he urged his horse forward and away from town.

For a brief moment, you were free. Pounding hooves sounded behind you but were fading fast. The shouts of men continued to rip through the air, but you realized that they, too, were slowly growing faint.  And then a stabbing pain exploded in your thigh. A scream escaped before you could stop yourself. Trained well, Arthur didn’t stop his horse, but he tried to see what had happened, calling back to you with increasing desperation. You had been shot. The panic, the shortness of breath, and now the pain was too much. In a surprisingly short matter of seconds, black filled your vision and you were gone.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The rustle of the trees. The soft sound of running water. Crackling of a campfire. Low voices outside your tent. Your hair brushing your face. Dull and throbbing pain in your leg. Heaviness in your chest. And, finally, the realization you were laying on a cot and not your usual bedroll. 

Slowly, your eyes blinked open. This definitely wasn’t your tent. These weren’t your blankets. Only the soft glow from the fire and a few lanterns shone on the one canvas wall. It was enough light to see that this was Arthur’s tent, the small table with his journal and flower, his photographs on the wagon side. His smell on the blankets. You breathed in deeply.

A snort by your feet caused you to startle. Sitting up slowly, you saw Arthur slumped in a chair, his hat drawn over his face, arms crossed as he breathed evenly, the occasional snore breaking the silence. An strong and sharp pain made you hiss and, in turn, woke the outlaw from his slumber. 

“You’re awake,” he mumbled, barely awake himself as he sat up. 

“Regrettably…”

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Honestly? Not great,” you said, chuckling a little. “But I’ve had worse. Why am I here?”

“Thought you might like a real bed. Well, realer than your bedroll. We can put you out for the wolves, if ya like.” His teasing tone was back, but it was more strained than normal. He looked absolutely exhausted. 

“No, this is fine. It’s… nice.”

Silence fell again. You stared at a thread on the sheet while Arthur stared at you. Usually there was a party the night after a big score, everyone drinking and being merry. There was a strange lack of boisterous laughter, though, and you had the weird feeling it was your doing. 

“How did we make out?”

“Oh, we escaped,” he said, leaning back in the chair again. “But we’re trapped here awhile, there’ll be law crawlin’ everywhere for a few weeks.”

“How much?”

Not even your fixation on the money got him to crack a smile.

“Dunno.” Shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve been in here, makin’ sure you don’t die.”

Arthur’s behavior was bizarre. You hadn’t seen him behave this way when another gang member was injured, not even when John had nearly been lost last year, and it was starting to worry you. Was there something else you didn’t know about? Was your injury more serious than he was letting on? For a moment, you studied his face, the ache and shadows clear in the weak light, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the barest sign of a light track down his cheek.

“Arthur…” 

It was such a soft whisper, you weren’t sure he had heard you at first. He lifted his eyes to meet yours. You tried desperately to read him for a second before finally caving.

“Arthur, what happened? Did someone not make it?”

At long last, he managed a short huff of air that might be mistaken for laughter. Shaking his head, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he ran his hands across his face, removing his hat and setting it on his wardrobe. When he looked at you again, he actually had a small smile, and relief had replaced what you had mistaken for grief.

“No, no, nothin’ like that.”

“So what’s the matter?”

He tilted his chin up, exhaling long and low towards the sky, seemingly contemplating something. It was quiet for an achingly long time. Another deep sigh and he brought his chin back down, meeting your gaze steadily.

“I thought I was gonna lose you,” he murmured. “I heard the shot, your scream… I thought you were gone for sure.”

Okay… you thought, still bewildered. We’ve almost lost people before. What makes me special?

“And I didn’t get the chance to tell you…” You had seen him struggle with words in the past, but this was different. It was almost as if his voice was physically fighting him on saying anything. “I couldn’t stand to lose you, truth be told. You mean-- That is, you’re very important-- That’s, well…”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you realized what he was trying to say. You didn’t dare utter a word, hoping, begging him to just spit it out. You weren’t positive this was happening, as now you were almost certain you had actually died and this was the beginning of your personal heaven.

“I can’t lose you, darlin’.”

The tears spilled over and dripped down your cheeks. You couldn’t even feel the pain in your thigh as it felt like a major weight had been lifted off of you. Arthur was startled, concern growing once more on his face at your tears, but when you started to grin and laughter bubbled up, he relaxed and looked as embarrassed as a school boy, dropping his eyes and smiling himself.

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me to hear,” you finally said, shaking your head at the silliness of it all. “I can’t lose you, either, Arthur. You mean the world to me.”

Slowly, the cowboy rose from his seat and approached the edge of the cot. You gingerly shifted yourself over to allow him to sit beside you, and he took the opportunity. You soaked in the other’s presence for just a moment. With the softest gaze you had seen from him, Arthur returned his attention to you. He lifted a hand to cup your face, his rough thumb stroking your cheek as he drank in your features, looking truly content for the first time. Gracefully and ever the gentleman, he tilted your face up to meet his as he carefully kissed you. It was light at first. He was testing the waters, not pushing too fast. But when you met him eagerly, he leaned in, hard. 

You didn’t dare breathe for the duration of the kiss, your heart a frightening combination of pounding and not beating at all. The taste of whiskey lingered fresh on his lips and left your mouth tingling. When Arthur pulled away, you shifted forward slightly, not wanting it to end. But, courteous as always, he pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead and then sat back again. Your eyes flickered all over his face. You were still unsure if you could catch your breath.

“Wanted to do that for a long time,” he muttered. All you could do was nod. Wow…

“Can you stay with me?” you blurted out. “Tonight?”

“O’ course,” he agreed. He tugged his boots off as you scooted as far over as you could, lifting the sheet for him to crawl into. Warmth radiated from his skin and it was like stepping into a comfortable bath as he wrapped his arms around you. You sighed into his chest, drinking in his smell with your face buried in him, hands gripping his shirt. The dull sting in your leg was in the background of your mind. It didn’t matter to you, though; you were safe here. And this wasn’t going to end any time soon.

[herstarburststories]

you and me and the devil makes three.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader, Demon!Dean Winchester x reader, past Lisa x Dean

Summary: Dean is a demon, he will take whatever he wants.

A/N: This got darker than I expected. I wanna make it clear I don't condone or engage with Dean's acts on this. This is my submission for @jawritter 's Make Me Cry Challenge. Congrats, honey! Hope you like it. Dividers by talesmanic and gif credit here

Prompt: I guess I should have been more like her.

Warnings: non consensual kissing, language, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR, non con (kissing and touching but no sex), dirty talk

Dean Winchester was a dreamer.

In the rawest way of the word, the meaning in the dust-collecting dictionaries and not the idealistic form. His eyelids shut close and, just like magic, Dean’s head was as haunted as the home he swore he’d never come back to in Kansas. The ghosts of the past, not ever so very friendly, coming to greet him at least three times per week. Sometimes they were happy films he could never starre in real life, his mom singing or a picnic with a lover saying that they needed to hurry up to get their kid at the baseball. The nightmares were sleepy visions of flesh and blood, mostly about his time underneath, Sam hurting, or his father spilling out his worst fears at his face. 

Maybe it was how the eldest Winchester’s brain compensated for the lack of bedtime tales and docile affairs growing up. The own way that his brittle soul discovered and molded not to let him collapse, or to always keep him on red alert. 

Good and bad deals are mostly a matter of which side you are betting your money on, really.

Because yeah, Dean did wake up feeling like he had shut his forest eyes briefly for twenty minutes instead of hours when he dreamed, but he also had never spent so long trapped in a better place. The green eyed hunter didn’t know which one was worse: the good dreams or the horrific ones. After all, he had went through all the atrocity and made it out alive, but the engulfed craving for light-hearted scenarios was suffocating. The hunter could never have it all. Trust him, he tried. Then, which is more agonizing: to have everything you ever wanted for a couple hours and have every scrap of it taken from you, or to undergo the calamity that accompanied your breaking point? 

Dean didn’t know, he didn’t even know what to tell Sam when he wondered what his brother had dreamt about to wake up sweating and screaming, all the light and stupid apple pie desires and the sharp brutality crawling out of the back of his mind. He made a joke, Megan Fox really liked knives, man. He kept it in, shoved down a good amount of alcohol, and mocked the worry of doing the lawn. Ready for another day. 

But now he was a demon, and apparently whatever he was made of - sulfur, cruelty, and black eyes under garden ones - wasn't worthy quiet reliefs in the middle of the night, or even frightening figments of memory. He became his worst dreams and all the dreams slipped beyond his reaches because of that. Demons, those unholy creatures, didn’t get the human peculiarities. You know what? Fine by him.

Who needed dreams when you don't need sleep, anyway? Even better: who needed dreams when you don't care about what you gotta do to put your greedy hands on the prize you had been eyeing for years? 

Dean Winchester was finally free. Free for the first time since he was a four years little boy who watched his mother burning with a terrorized expression, ironically mimicking the one Mary wore on the ceiling. His dad’s shouting for him to grab Sammy and run, take your little brother and run, echoing through years and years. There was never time for Dean, for his grief or his questions or whatever the child frozen in time under his rib cage could come up with. They said, stupid psychologists with their fancy degrees and malicious bartenders with a unfriendly grun under the counter who learned a little too much, everybody said that when someone was so traumatized as a kid, that person would tend to get frozen at that age. Therefore, how tremendously alleviating was to kill any reminiscing emotion of the whiny child he used to be. 

The kind of freedom that no traveler longed for; when one’s ruined and damaged enough not to care, and just take and take and take like hunger itself. Dean was an evil thing now, what else could he do but act on the figments of the worst intentions?

And feel so fucking good when doing that. 

‘’Where do you think he's going?’’ Your eyes raked over the street, darting between the asphalt under Baby’s wheels and Sam’s weary features.

‘’I don't know.’’ He sighed, attempting to organize his thoughts. Even as a demon, his brother wouldn’t just run miles and miles away by himself for no apparent reason. There had to be something you and Sam were missing out, some unseen clue or a hidden meaning. ‘’What the localizator says?’’

At least you had managed to put a tracker in his boots during your last encounter. Whatever Dean was thinking of starting there, you and Sam wouldn’t let him.

‘’Still Cicero, Indiana.’’ You sighed. Sammy furrowed his eyebrows, a long forgotten memory rising. ‘’What?’’

‘’We had a case there once years ago.’’ He explained, opting not to elaborate. Your and Dean’s relationship was troubled enough with his new self. Sam didn’t want to blow it up completely. His brother would need you once he came back to himself. The look on your face, though, reported how you weren’t buying his cheap excuses. The long haired hunter sighed. ‘’Did Dean ever tell you about that?’’

‘’No.’’

He stepped on the accelerator.

To find the woman was excruciatingly easy. The freckled demon couldn't believe he opened his computer many times and gave up before today. He glanced through the glass window and there she was, standing in all her glory with a body that seemed to forget how to grow old. Her tan skin still glowing, as appetizing as ever. Brown eyes shining so bright, tiny hands that always seemed to know where he wanted to be touched. She was laughing like there was no tomorrow, holding a glass of wine with one hand and her cellphone with the other, while her dark hair was falling so perfectly over her shoulder, like waves against the rocks in the sea.

Dean can’t wait to smell her again, to taste her, to prove her. His fingers were tingling, begging to touch what was his as he hopped off the car, walking towards the porch. He had been gone for a long time, but now he was back. 

He will destroy that quintessential, sequin woman so good.

The Winchester buckled in front of the white door, graced with the sound of the female giggle. Thin walls, he thought, those will be useful to make sure the neighbors know who’s back home. Her steps on the wood floor growing closer and closer as he heard a goodbye, probably aimed at whoever she was on the phone with. It was almost like the caramel skinned woman knew that whoever was on her doorstep wasn’t gonna be a hustled visitor. Or so the demon’s arranged mind said.

‘’Hey, Lis.’’ Dean’s voice lacked any cherishment as she opened the door, who would know that the absence of a soul wouldn't be gelid, just dry? As for her, Lisa’s face was drained of love. For all she was aware of, he was a stranger who knew her name. The male let out a chuckle empty of joy. She really didn’t remember, huh? ‘’Whoa. Cass really fucked up your head, huh? At least he did one thing right.’’

‘’Excuse me?’’ The man with dirty blonde hair and perfect teeth smelled like alcohol. She wasn’t having any of this tonight. ‘’Listen, I don’t know who you are and--’’

‘’Don’t worry.’’ He tranquilized her, although the lopsided grin on his lips held anything but good intentions. ‘’I’ll make you remember. I have a spell. You won’t believe how much you missed me.’’

The mocking laugh that left her lips utterly aggravated him. ‘’I don’t know you. Please leave or I’ll call the police.’’

Dean didn’t need a crowd for that part, a bratty woman in need of a firm hand should get a particular lesson. 

‘’You always liked a little cat and mouse.’’

Speaking of, the demon pushed the door wide open without any effort. Lisa jumped at the sudden move, every instinct inside her deciding that man was a threat and not some harmless wasted guy. Her body was quickly erect, thinking about ways to run and get help, but Dean swiftly pushed her to him and kicked the door closed-- her small figure collided to his chest.

Human savagery was cut in urban ways, molded to civilize the animalistic instincts. Imagine meat. A dead animal on a silver plate, and we couldn’t wait to chew every inch of it. We couldn’t wait to eat it, put that dead thing inside us and hope it’ll be enough to control the predatory hungry. Humans will always be animals, but so will be their rests that constructed the demons. 

Dean may not be a hunter anymore, but he’s still a predator who can't wait to taste his prey. He could small it, the fear in Lisa’s sweat making his mouth water. How much she tried to fight against him and scream other names when his was the only one he wanted her to need tonight. The resistance of a poor human barely made the monster shiver.

He closed his hands around her arms, throwing her against the wall like someone tossed an old toy away. There was no space for delicaly. In that moment, Dean Winchester was a tiger, a lion, the big bad wolf attacking the omega. Lis winced, her back hurting as her fibers. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that man was about to do something so terrible and disgusting to her in her own house, the place she was supposed to feel warm and safe. Why did he seem to know her? Why did he say she was gonna remember? Was he crazy, hallucinating, or drugged? Why was he so satisfied with how frightened her tiny body looked? How could she use all that information to somehow push him away?

‘’Let me go!’’ She demanded, her legs kicking the demon with ferocity. ‘’What’s wrong with you? LET ME GO NOW!’’

The brunette’s skilled body moved itself desperately, and the act of resistance only brought a hysterical laugh out of Dean. The wrong kind of goosebumps washed her skin, she had to run away for her life. This man was mad.

‘’FIRE! FIRE!’’ Lisa started to scream. Well-aware that people were most likely to come around and help a woman screaming if she said fire. ‘’THERE’S A FIRE. SOMEONE HELP ME!’’

One of his hands went to her neck, wrapping his fingers around it to shut her up. That was rubbing him off the wrong way. Lisa Braeden used to beg for his touch, how dared her not to want him anymore? Now that he was better, stronger, and thicker.

The brown eyed girl went quiet, probably scared by his brutal behavior. Dean smiled, a blood stained grin that carried mischief and pervertment. He licked the tears savoring the salty horror coming from her. Just like the day he was a vampire who almost gave in to drinking every drop of her luptuos blood. She may not remember but he did and he couldn't wait to get inside her, those tight walls squeezing his hard cock.

‘’You’re gonna do as I say, Lis. And I won't hurt you… Much.’’ He risped, crooked nose stroking her wet cheek. She whined. ‘’Don’t worry, honey. You loved it. Bet you’ll scream so much once I fuck you good.’’

‘’Please, don’t do it.’’ She begged as he coaxed his body against his. That man was stronger than her, she had no other choice but to plead to his human side. If only she knew.

‘’Begging already?’’ Dean lifted his head, smirking at her. Lisa just wanted to cry and close her eyes until everything was done. How could someone do that? ‘’I told you, don’t worry. I’m gonna make a lil’ spell that will give your memories back and you’ll remember everything. And then we’re gonna have so much fun, Lis.’’

His last murmur was finished with a kiss. A harsh, ruthless kiss. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call it a kiss; teeth against each other, his vicious mouth pressed to her weakened lips, his tongue invading her like a robber and showing an unrequited dominance.

‘’Dean!’’ Your voice resonated stridently, louder than the door Sam had stormed open. You couldn’t believe what your eyes witnessed. ‘’Stop it!’’

Dean groaned, as if you and Sam were stepping on his territory. He simply turned his head to you two, not pulling away from Lisa. You couldn’t see her face, your boyfriend’s large shoulder and tall body covering her up. His eyes were still green, which set the scene in an even more atrocious light. 

Your thoughts were racing. How could he come to her, crave her so badly that he drove away miles and miles as a demon? He was supposed not to feel a thing. You prepared yourself for a cold man, not an obsessive one. Apparently, a heart hidden under the black smoke. Choose if it's a gift or Pandora's box. Sam told you their history. Of course he would want that and not you. Dean never left Lisa because he fell out of love for her, he was ripped out from her life. You were so pissed at yourself; how could you picture playing the woman in his veins? How stupid were you? He may be a demon guided by wants and not emotions, but what was love but an amount of outrageous desires laced up with some pretty words and flavored with dependency?

‘’Y/N and Sammy--’’

Love was the wrong word here. Anyway. Go head and unwrap it.

‘’Please help me!’’ Lisa’s voice came to life once more through her quiet cry. Dean hardened the hold around her throat, making her cough a little.

Suddenly, your body is frozen. That, whatever that is, whatever he’s doing to Lisa. It wasn’t love. She didn’t want it. When his frame moved to face you and Sam, you caught a glimpse of her face. She was petrified, her delicate features contorted in wrath and fear and beg for help.

‘’Quiet.’’ Dean howled, glancing at her rapidly before his eyes fell on you and Sam again. ‘’You two are such killjoys. I told you to let me go.’’

You couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You wanted to puke your guts out.

‘’And what? Kill your ex? Or do something even worse to her?’’ You elicited with disgust.

‘’She’ll come around eventually. Just playing hard to get. You know how frisky women are.’’ The corner of his lips curved into a barbaric grim, one of his hands touching Lisa’s cheek. The victim winced at the touch. ‘’Besides, I’m not just gonna take her. I’ll make her remember and she’ll want me.’’ He shrugged, unbothered by the horrified looks of everyone in the room. ‘’Are you really worried about Lis, Y/N? Or are you just jealous that I didn’t go for you?’’

‘’Enough, Dean.’’ Sam groaned, holding the gun up. It felt oily. ‘’Let her go. And come with us.’’

The demon tossed the brunette away with a simple sleight of hand, pulling his sleeves up with a marred beam. His eyes switched from starry green to black, showing his true facette. It was a peculiar relief. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean.

Yet, Dean’s gruff voice said in a twisted playful tone:

‘’Come get me, Sammy.’’

Dean Winchester was cured. For most people, to heal is to let go or to learn with things. In the doctor’s case, healing is leaving a bruise to cover up a wound. Everyone believed the war started and ended, and that was it. But when something so ravaging is gone, you gotta deal with the trauma.

He was a trauma. Cured from a sickness, drowning in sorrow and waves of woe. All the worst things Dean ever did, he knew now, weren’t to himself or to the monster he so proudly killed. His unspoken acts were against the people he cared about.

The hunter never thought his hands, his bruised and tough hands could ever hurt Lis. The woman who was his lifeline when Sam died, who allowed him to be a father and live in his dreamland of suburban life. All she ever did was to love him, and what did she get for it?

He was disgusted with himself. What almost did to her was enough to hunt him and make him sure he was going back to hell, very deserving this time. Threating to do that to a woman, and enjoy it… Dean couldn’t bear driving into memories. He was selfishly glad he didn’t remember about that, only Sam’s explanation was enough: he went to Lisa, he kissed her without her consent, and Sam and you stopped him going any further. Would his unscrupulous, demon self go ahead? He was too scared to wonder, even though his brother said that he apparently had a spell to make Lis remember and wasn’t planning on just taking her. A forced kiss was disgusting enough. He just wished Sam had put a bullet in his black eyes right there.

You walked in the bathroom that you once shared with the eldest Winchester

She was everything he ever wanted, all the suburban dreams and acceptance of hunter reality without being in it. Lisa loved him completely and you could only love him sideways-- you never wanted to be a mom, or to have a family or live in a suburb. Those were valid goals, just not yours. You thought you and Dean were on the same page about it, but this other side, not only the pervert demon but the domestic man, hadn’t been shown to you until a couple days ago. Sam had cured his brother, his dirty nature washed away with holy water, but you couldn’t help the bruises that came from the dog days. Lisa had her memory erased by Cass again, you didn’t have the same unfair luxury.

‘’Dean.’’ You said, making him look up at you. Bags under his eyes and wrinkles more evident than ever. ‘’We need to talk.’’

He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Y/N, I don’t want to talk right now.’’

‘’You never do.’’ You scoffed, gaining an incredulous glance from him. ‘’I know that what happened was disgusting and sick and the worst thing you could ever do, but we need to talk.’’

He took a deep breath. ‘’What do you wanna talk about?’’

‘’You went to her.’’ You stated as a lawyer in front of a jury. Dean furrowed.

‘’What?’’

‘’Lisa. You went to her.’’ When the arrow hit someone so damaged, it was like an animal with his teeth there that wouldn't let go. Yeah, his human soul wasn't the same brittle glass as before but it lingered in his demon self in the shape of delusion, and it was distorted by whatever he was made of, violence and darkness, and turned into something disgusting. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’Love?’’ The word burned his tongue, Dean didn’t think he had the right to ever use it again. ‘’I was a demon, Y/N. I didn’t love or feel anything. What I did--’’

‘’You didn’t do anything.’’ You interrupted, loyal as a soldier.

‘’I forced a kiss on her and wanted to bring her memories back to have sex with her. That’s disgusting and I did half of that.’’ He pointed out aggitadly, plump lips moving fast and voice deeper. ‘’It wasn’t love. Leaving her years back was love.’’

You didn’t miss how Dean didn’t even dare to say her name. ‘’So you don’t think about her? Not even once?’’

He scoffed humourless. ‘’Are you kidding me?’’

‘’I guess I should have been more like her.’’ You hugged yourself, glancing at the wall. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again, not for another woman. That wasn’t even your cicatrix to ache. 

‘’Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about?’’ The fully green eyed man raised to his feet, glancing at you with disbelief. He couldn’t face how messed up it was. ‘’I can’t believe you are jealous of what happened. I thought I was the broken one here.’’

‘’I’m not her.’’ You two shared it, the glance that only two women who were hurt by the same man could. You both understood that when he got inside you, it was like the syringe in an eutanasia. Once you were happy because you loved him, now you were scared and not so sure this was what you wanted. ‘’I’m not her and you knew it. When you became just instincts and selfish and did whatever you wanted, you didn’t come to me. You came to her.’’

‘’I hurt her.’’

The next words fly out of your mouth, as weak and totaled as you felt: ‘’Why didn’t you hurt me?’’

‘’This is the most unhealthy shit we ever went through.’’ Dean’s right. You have her expression mesmerized on your brain. Dean was the man on top of her, teaching her how to hate. How to fear. You can’t trust yourself. ‘’I can’t believe you.’’

‘’Neither can I.’’ You were so sick. How ravaged and annihilated one had to be to wish to be a demon's object of obsession? To get jealous that another woman almost died in the arms of a beast that cried his blood out once he came back to being a man and saw what he had done? ‘’I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I was there and I saw how scared of you she was, how all she wanted was to push you away and run because she was so disgusted--’’

‘’Stop.’’ He groaned, but it came out more like a whine than anything. ‘’It wasn’t me. I would never hurt Lis. I would never force her to do anything! I--’’

You gave him a sad smile. ‘’You love her.’’

‘’I love you.’’ Dean approached you, fumbling in despair to fix yet another thing his hands destroyed. If Rome was built in ruins, he was a kingdom. You pulled away before his tough hands landed on you.

‘’But you love her too.’’ The hunter stopped on his spot, unable to answer. ‘’I ruined myself for you, Dean. I can’t-- I won’t do that again. You are right. This is unhealthy. The fact that you’ve been pining for her for so long, pushing down those feelings to the point they are twisted into something so cruel and disgusting. You need help.’’ What kind of ugly you have to have inside you for a monster to love you? And, even worse, what kind of sickness you have trapped, written in your blood to want it to be spilled out in his name? ‘’You really are venom. If this is how you love, it’s scary as fuck.’’ When you loved a broken man, you were never sure if his shattered pieces would glisten or cut your hand once the light came in. Here’s your answer. His parts crawled inside you through pulled up scars, scraping your insides to make into ruins, but you never liked Rome much. You had to be better than that. ‘’Goodbye, Dean.’’

He couldn’t bring himself to go after your steps.

Once again, it’s the kind of freedom no traveler wants. When you lost it all and didn't have any person or place to cling to, when you had to leave because you were becoming the girl you swore you’d never leave, when you walked away willingly without a map.

Still, it was all you had. You’d make a good use of it. You’d be okay. No more ugly emotions or sentiments that made you unrecognizable. No more knives that cut both ways, or situations so complicated you weren’t sure where your morals could rely on.

You’d be okay, healthy, and happy.

You’d be okay.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡ Tags in reblog!

[insomniacinserts]

The confessor AU

Words - 4711 🥰🤤

AU - Father Clemens(c slater) is a professor at a religious school. Y/n is 18

A/N - I really pooped my blood, sweat and tears into this one. You kids are gonna eat well tonight 😘 sorry if it says michael Vincent anywhere it’s the name I used for y/n cause I wrote part of it in class. I’ll put a cut in it when I get to my pc I can’t open tumblr on my school computer

———————————————————————

“Mr. Y/N L/N.” Father Ortega stopped suddenly that I had bumped into him. He turned sharply and glared evilly before straightening out his attire and folding his hands neatly in front of him “I suggest you straighten yourself out before you step into your administrator's office. Father Clemens will decide a punishment fit for your sin.” I took a deep breath, I was pretty calm, way more so than I should be considering my situation. But Father Clemens was a pretty understanding holy figure, it’s what made him the most popular of the staff for confessions and counseling, so I had a pretty good feeling that Father Clemens would understand and not be too cruel.

“Y/N L/N, good to see you son. step in and have a seat.” Father Ortega nodded to Father Clemens then turned to leave and shut the door, once the lock clicked behind Father Ortega the room had fallen into an increasingly awkward silence, and the sheer embarrassment of my current situation snuck up on me and slapped me right in the face, the embarrassing shame had prompted a certain uneasy restlessness to settle in my limbs, I couldn't help but to slide down in my seat or keep my leg from bouncing rapidly and my fingers from picking at seemingly nothing on my hand “what is the problem that brought you in here today, Y/N?” Once Father Clemens had finished his paperwork he ended the uneasy silence that Father Ortega had left behind him. He sat with his hands folded sternly in front of him, he had tried to meet my gaze but quit when I continued to avoid him.

“If I am correct Father. Father Ortega had sent you an email before escorting me down here.”

Father Clemens sucked in a deep breath and unfolded his hands to look something up on his laptop “you are correct, Y/N” he turned away from his laptop to look back at me “but I want to hear it from you.” Father Clemens leaned back in his chair and ran his palms on his pants then he stood and made his way around his desk and stood behind the chair. I sat in “sit in your chair the correct way Y/N.” his hands came around the chair to grip my biceps firmly and followed stiffly pulling me up in the chair “back straight.” his hands ran up from my biceps and stopped on my shoulders to straighten out my back on the chair. “If you think I'm going to go easy on you and let you off with a slap on the wrist, you're wrong Y/N L/N.” he made his way to the side of the chair and sat in the one next to mine “do you understand that lust is a big thing? It's not something the board wants to be treated lightly.” I nod and look down at my hands in my lap, Father Clemens’s warm hand came up to grip my jaw and turned my face to him “I'm messing with you, kiddo. Loosen up, ok?” Father Clemens chuckled and sat back in his chair with his arms settled neatly on the armrests.

“In my opinion, kid. The bord and the teachers here are all way too uptight. You're a teenage boy, you're going to get those urges, you've got mass amounts of testosterone flowing through you. I couldn't help myself when I was younger.” I tried to bite back the flush on my cheeks at the thought of teenage Father Clemens touching himself so intimately but I was unsuccessful, the warmth of blood rushed through my cheeks coloring them a light pink then to a darker red when I glanced over at Father Clemens to see him staring straight at me with a smirk on his face. “A man thinking of another man in such a way as you are now is also a sin, young Y/N L/N.” Father Clemens shifted his chair closer to me then leaned forward bracing his elbows onto his knees “but you would know that already. Correct?” a sharp chill ran up my spine and the hairs on my neck stood. Father Clemens was not only the senior’s head administrator but he was the school's psyche counselor, and if I were to say he was a bad counselor I would be punished for untruthful accusations.

Even then, the way the school is run is purely based on academic achievements. So if Father Clemens was a bad counselor and it was reported by multiple students or student's legal guardians they would be dismissed, Due to Father Clemens’s charming academic records, his degrees, and his essays. Though when I say the complaints would be dismissed I only mean for the legal guardians, the students don't get off as lucky.

So him suggesting that I am romantically and sexually attracted to the same gender is terrifying on its own, even if what he was suggesting was wrong. “Anyway.” Father Clemens’ voice was like a gunshot, even louder accompanied by the loud clap he made when he stood up. It all made me jump and Father Clemens’s chuckle did nothing for my rapidly beating heart “relax kiddo. I didn't mean to scare you like that.” Father Clemens had stopped making his way back to his chair behind his desk and stood calmly behind my chair. “There's nothing wrong with thinking of sleeping with a man when you're alone, son.” His big warm hands settled to rub small sharp circles into my shoulders massaging out the tense knots “the church board and the school aren't very good at getting with the program.” his hands took to rubbing softly on my shoulders very melodically back and forth as if he were trying to calm me down. His hands stilled and he leaned down to whisper in my ear “you don't gotta worry about that kiddo. Ok?” he paused to watch me nod, his hands came up to my collarbone and ran his thumb over the nape of my neck “I’ll take care of you, kiddo. They won't bother you because of who you are.”

Father Clemens backed away from my chair suddenly and walked around to sit in his chair behind his desk. “You finished with your classes?” he turned to his laptop and began to type “no, um it should be around lunchtime now. Someone told Father Ortega that I was committing a sin and he came to get me to take me down here.” Father Clemens stopped typing and looked at me over his laptop “someone told him? He didn't catch you in the act?” Father Clemens’ stern gaze shot straight down my spine and sent me to a full-body shiver “no. he didn’t Father.” Father Clemens took a deep breath then closed his laptop to set it off to the side “who told him? Were they telling the truth?” Father Clemens leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands back nicely in his lap “it was one of the nuns students. She had begun propositioning me for a relationship and something more, back around October so a few months, and considering the circumstances every time she propositioned me I had respectfully declined.” Father Clemens pursed his lips and nodded rocking slightly in his chair.

“What was so different this time? Why did she lie about something like that?” I slid back down in the chair but quickly sat back up and corrected my posture after Father Clemens gave me a disapproving look “I had told her that if she kept propositioning me like that I would tell her administrator about her inappropriate behavior but she took it a lot worse than I thought and after she told Father Ortega she went around telling her classmates and my classmates as well as my friends that I was gay.” Father Clemens sighed and let his head fall forward slightly “have you eaten, son?” Father Clemens reached under his desk and brought out a bag that he stuffed his laptop in and set ti back down onto the floor “no, I have not Father” Father Clemens nodded and stood from his seat “I’m going to take you down to the detention hall and have you sit in there for a few of your lectures while I speak to Sister Mary. Father Young will get you lunch. What was the girl's name?” I shook my head and looked down at my lap “I'm not going to tell you.”

Father Clemens signed “are your peers saying anything to you?” I blinked rapidly to stop tears from coming and I pinched the inside of my hand “Mr. Y/N L/N. You look at me when I talk to you and you answer when you are asked a question.” Father Clemens' voice had lowered and out of the corner of my eye I could see his shined shoes move around his desk and stop to the side of me “look at me, son.” I shook my head and kept my eyes on the ground. “Son. I need to know these things.” his big hand had found its way under my chin and he gently lifted my face to him “are your teachers saying anything.” I averted my eyes and looked at the front of his button-down; it was in pristine shape, it was ironed, cleaned, it didn't have lint or hair on it and pretty soon I found myself wondering what human could keep something that clean “what are they saying, Y/N L/N.” Father Clemens’ voice was sharp and stern and it cut me from my daydream, but before I could say anything there was a soft knock on the door.

Father Clemens pulled back and straightened himself out before going over and opening the door “hello dear Grace Butler. I'm with a student at this moment but I'll have you sit in one of those chairs over there.” my blood ran cold at the mention of her name and my hands gripped the armrests “is the student in there Y/N L/N?” her voice made bile rise in my throat and the hair on the back of my neck stand “did you need something with him?” I could hear the cogs in Father Clemens' head-turning and figuring out what she was doing here “yes actually. It's very important and you two have been in there for an hour and a half, I’ve been waiting for him out here. It will only take a second and then you can get back to whatever you're doing.” I turned around to look out the door and see Grace standing there with her hands folded in front of her and an innocent smile on her face that turned to a sinister one when she caught my gaze and at that moment I could tell that Father Clemens had figured it out.

Father Clemens stood to the side and motioned for her to come in “it shouldn't be too important to not talk about it in front of me Ms. Grace Butler.” her smile faltered a little but she shook it off and stepped into Father Clemens office. She unfolded her hands and sat down beside me. I tried my hardest to scoot away from her but I couldn't go any further than the chair allowed. I heard Father Clemens shut the door, I didn't want to look behind me in case grace would try something but when Father Clemens passed me going back to his desk he gave a soft squeeze to my bicep. “Now. don’t let me bother you, kay?” Father Clemens picked his bag up from the floor and pulled out his laptop “I’m going to do some work, and when your done Ms. Grace if you would let yourself out Mr. Y/N L/N and I are still in the middle of a conversation so don’t beat around the bush, keep things to the point.” Father Clemens looked pointedly at me before opening up his laptop and getting to work.

“Y/N I have something very important to tell you.” grace began to fiddle with the ends of her blouse, I looked over and caught Father Clemens suspicious gaze “I’ve gotten expelled.” my brows shot up to my hairline and I snapped my head over to look at Father Clemens who in turn looked back at me with the same amount of confusion and surprise written on his face that I’m feeling “and why would you get expelled, Ms. Grace?” grace, still facing me, rolls her eyes at Father Clemens before putting on a sad innocent look and looking over at Father Clemens “they found out I was pregnant. I haven’t told them who the father was,” grace looks at me and scoots closer “because I didn’t want you to get expelled, Y/N.” I flinch at the obvious lie “alright, thank you very much for your time, Ms. Grace. Please see yourself out now. Mr. Y/N L/N and I have business that needs to be discussed. You, dear lady shout be with your headmistress.” grace holds eye contact and the smug look returns to her face before dropping when she gets up to leave the room “ill send Sister Mary to fetch you.” grace nods and leaves the room with a bounce in her step.

“Father- I- let me explain. Please.” Father Clemens holds his hand out to stop me from talking further “kiddo.” he locks his eyes with mine “I have a bachelor’s in psychology. Even then it doesn’t take a bachelor’s degree to see she’s lying. Your a good student, and a very good boy. even The head would doubt you’d do anything of the sort.” the light praise had sent a shiver down my spine that I prayed Father Clemens overlooked, then as suddenly as it came his soft look was replaced with a stern one “Grace Butler.” cold dread settled back into my skin I had thought we were going to move past this “Father. Please can we drop it? I can handle the things people are saying myself and you heard grace. Shes being expelled that’s one of my problems gone.” during my frustrating speech Father Clemens had walked around and sat on his desk in front of me “kiddo. This is our problem. I’m your administrator, I’m in charge of you and I care about you. I’m not going to let you handle this yourself. Your such a good kid, you focus on your classwork, and ill focus on this. Ok?” Father Clemens didn’t give me any time to answer before he picked up his office phone and dialed what I think Sister Mary’s phone number was.

I sighed and tuned out of the conversation in favor of studying a painting of what looked to be a nun in a forest at dawn or dusk on Father Clemens wall “hey. Kiddo.” I flinched and snapped my yead to Father Clemens backing my head away from his fingers snapping in front of my face “yeah? Sorry. I wasn’t listening.” Father Clemens smiled and let his hands fall to grip his desk “I asked if you lived on campus, I wanted to walk you back to your dorm.” I looked down at my watch “it’s five already? I’ve been in here the whole school day and I haven’t realized it. It felt like an hour the most.” Father Clemens chuckled and smiled amused by my current situation. He cleared his throat before standing up and going over to the coat rack by his door “do you live off-campus, son?” I rub the back of my neck “yeah actually.” I stood and walked through the door that Father Clemens opened for me “do you have a car?” he put on his jacket and slung his bag over his shoulder “no Father I don’t. Usually, I catch the bus.” Father Clemens turns away from me to lock his door “it’s too late for you to catch the bus now. I’ll drive you, kiddo.” Father Clemens turns back to me with a sincere smile and shoves his keys back into his pocket “no. Father I cant ask you to do that. It’s too far out of your way.” Father Clemens puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me further away from the way I came earlier and down a smaller hall to a door that led out to the staff parking lot

“I’m not letting you walk in this weather, not with that light hoodie. You’ll catch a cold then I won’t be able to see your pretty face tomorrow during the sermon.” my face flushes but it’s not because of the wether, Father Clemens hand had started to rub small circles into the small of my back as he was leading me to his car. “If it’s out of my way. Invite me in for a drink.” we get to his car and he opens the door for me “all I have is coffee Father.” Father Clemens gives me a look that he knows I’m a teenager and that I’m lying “you’d be watching me sin father.” the statement sounded a lot dirtier out loud than it did in my head and it seemed to sound dirty to Father Clemens because he chuckles and shakes his head before straightening out and leaning closer to my face “son. You’d be surprised how many sins id watch you commit.” my breath catches in my throat and my cheeks turn a darker red “get in the car. Son.” Father Clemens’s voice had taken on a darker tone and turned rough like he was thinking about me doing what he was mentioning. Suddenly I remember something that Father Clemens said earlier and a graphic image of Father Clemens touching himself flashed through my mind but instead of his face and body being younger it was how he looked now.

I nod and hastily get in the car, I go to buckle the seatbelt but Father Clemens stops me by leaning down into the car and grabbing my wrist “looks like you’ve got a problem there, son.” Father Clemens splayed one of his hands out on my thigh, the simple action, forcing me to be painfully aware of my hard cock straining against my jeans “sorry Father.” Father Clemens finished buckling the seatbelt and got into the car on the drivers’ side “as I said earlier, kiddo. A man thinking of another man in such a way is a great sin. If you don’t confess, ill have to deal with you as your administrator.” the current reality of what was happening sent chills down my spine and more blood down to my cock. “You won’t have to punish me, Father. I’ll confess.” I put on my best innocent pupil voice “even with your confession ill still have to deal with you as your administrator. We weren’t off the school grounds when you sinned.” I ran my hands up and down my thighs trying to keep them busy to avoid touching myself “what are you wanting to do kid?” Father Clemens’s tone changed and he got more serious, my cock was hard and straining the fabric of my jeans painfully “it hurts father.” his car slows to a stop in front of my apartment building let’s go inside kiddoI’llll deal with you where no one can see you. I want everything I’m about to see to be reserved for only me. I want to be the only man to see your cock hard like that and your nipples so purt and pretty.” I had to bite back a gasp when Father Clemens finger came up to circle my nipple “I want to be the only one to hear the pretty noises you make.” he leans over the center console to lick and nip over my addams apple, the action sending a jolt to my cock making it twitch and a breathy noise come out of my mouth “I want to be the only one to feel how tight you wrap around my cock and how pretty your face looks when you get my dick down your throat.” his hand falls from my nipple to run his palm lightly and playfully over my bulge “I want to be the only one to see you cum.” his palm ground down harder on my cock and forced a guttural moan out of the back of my throat.

Father Clemens growls in my ear and takes his hand from my pants “get inside boy.” the Fathers voice was rough and his pupils were blown wide “yes Father.” he unbuckled both of our seatbelts and waited for me to move around the car on the sidewalk “just call me daniel, son.” once on the sidewalk I pause to fish the keys from my pocket and flip through them to get the apartments front door key “you got it kiddo?” Father Clemens comes up behind me and settles his hand on the small of my back “yeah.” he nudges me forward and stays beside me with his hand on my back the whole way to the elevator.

“Comere kiddo.” Fathe Clemens voice was rough and he tugged me forward by my belt loops once the elevator doors closed “you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” his voice got quieter with each word as his face lowered to mark hickies on my neck “tell me how long Father.” Father Clemens huffs against my neck and pulls back when the elevator dings, I wait for an answer but his hand finds its way to my back and he playfully pushes me forward “I thought I told you to drop the Father.” I smile and walk toward the end of the hall to my apartment door “you still have your collar on Father, I wouldn’t want to disrespect a man of God.” I playfully sway my hips in front of him and open the door, but before I could fully get in Father Clemens takes me by the scruff of my hoodie and swiftly moves both of us into my apartment, I don’t get a chance to flip on the lights before Father Clemens body is pinning my body against the door “stay.” he nips playfully at my earlobe and slowly backs away giving me room to turn around.

Father Clemens has his jacket off and tossed to the side and he’s taking his collar off with a hungry look, once-off he tosses his things to the side and pins my body back against the door, but this time instead of his clothed cock against the curve of my ass he’s pushing his hips into mine “no more father.” he presses a cheeky kiss to my lips and reaches between us to unbutton the first few buttons on his white shirt “fine. Would sir be better?” a smug smirk makes its way on my face when his breath catches in his throat and I take the short moment of surprise to flip us around, this time pressing his back against the door “your gonna kill me kid.” his voice sounded even more wrecked, I shake my head with a small smile on my face and lock eyes with him “actually I’m going to suck your dick first. Sir.” I draw the word out and slowly sink to my knees keeping eye contact.

“Kid-” his voice shakes and he fists a hand in my hair and tugs gently “what’s wrong sir?” he moans and bucks his hips, his clothed bulge nearly comes in contact with my chin but I settle my hand on his him and mouth hotly at his bulge “god that’s good kiddo.” he tugs my head back with his grip in my hair and undoes his belt “common kiddo lemme see your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.” I nod swiftly and shakily undo his pants so I can free his cock from his boxers. when it’s free I thank god that I got on my knees cause his cock looked so good; it was flushed at the tip, not small at all, and on top of that his cock was thick so thick my own twitched in my pants and I couldn’t help grinding the heel of my palm onto it “sir, I don’t think its gonna fit.” I hear a dull thud and look up to see he’s let his head fall back against the door “kiddo if you keep talking like that you’re not going to get a taste before I cum” Father Clemens foot nudged my hand away from my dick and took its place pressing down teasingly “I’m gonna put it in my mouth now Father.” Father Clemens’s foot pulled away from my cock “what did I say about calling me faAH” Father Clemens couldn’t finish his sentence before his cock was in my mouth, I tried taking all of his cock in my throat but gaged “oh, fuck kiddo. It feels so good when you gag around me like that.” I hummed and tried again, this time breathing through my nose. I took him a little further than before but still gagged “god. Common kiddo you can take it.” Father Clemens hands fisted in my hair and mine came up to wrap around what part of his cock I couldn’t fit in my mouth “let me fuck your face kid. Please.” I took a deep ragged breath in through my nose and let my hands fall to Father Clemens’ thighs. I looked up through my lashes when I heard a soft sigh, he was looking down at me with a look on his face that I didn’t recognize, and as if he could sense I was distracted he delivered a particularly deep thrust,

When he pulled back I could feel spit dribble down my chin “I wish you could see yourself son, god, you’re so beautiful.” Father Clemens started with a slow and deep pace lightly scratching his fingertips on my scalp “taking my cock so well baby. So good.” he pets the side of my jaw with his thumb then pushes my head down on his cock slowly until my nose was buried in his pubes “that’s it sweetheart. Breathe in through your nose. I wanna see how well your ass takes my cock.” with that he lets me pull off, I couldn’t help taking deep gulps of air and fuck I could already tell how wrecked my voice would be. “Get up son, let’s go to your room.”

[terraf1rma]

RATING PEOPLE'S IDV MAINS: BY A THREE WEEK OLD PLAYER WHO GETS TERRORSHOCKED TO KINGDOM COME EVERY TIME I PLAY AGAINST SCULPTOR (HUNTER VERSION)

Galatea (sculptor): y'all terrify me. Like I could be breaking apart a chair and pop! There's a wild statue around me and banging me to death! And bam! A girl with dwarfism (according to the idv community??) in a wheelchair appears and makes you feel guilty about yoinking a pallet on her! Like man do you know how awkward I get when I see a kid in a wheelchair get hit by a pallet i threw down? Man. It's awkward, that's for sure. How do you guys even get through windows?

Jack (the ripper): now, I would get scared of you if it wasn't for the fact that your whole invisibility shazam got ruined by that weird red light thingy. Not sure what it's called but eh. Like you could've terrorshocked me while I was decoding but nope. Red light! Gotta go fast! Suddenly I am sonic and dying in a minute!!

Luchino (evil lizard man): ...I've only ever seen one Luchino and I felt so bad for the guy that I purposefully stayed behind and let him terrorshock™ me like the man couldn't get the jump on any of my teammates I wanna make a pun but idk how to fit it in help-

Mary (bloody queen): I'm stuck between running away screaming and respectfully asking you to marry and terrorshock me. Like that special carry where it looks like Mary is ballroom dancing with the survivors as she carries them to their doom? Exquisite I almost want to get myself killed just to do that it's simp culture shush

Joseph (photographer): the amount of costumes the Josephs have are...intimidating to say the least. I mean I'm saving up for this man myself because rn he's the only hunter I can figure out how to play. Many tasty terrorshocks await me me thinks. He's also very handsome 10/10 would let him terrorshock me. Oh, and midnight gentleman? That's straight up cat culture not wolf you furry-

Leo (hell ember): people say you guys take pity on Emma mains but I've yet to see one that didn't straight up go after me and me only for a whole march like sir please this is your daughter I'm playing as have pity when you see her riding a carousel at like half health let her enjoy this ride DO NOT TERRORSHOC- your skills are very cool tho and I respect you people a bunch

Ann (the herald/nun/apostle/something religious/idk man netease makes me confused): idk how people remember you for your cat when her neck exists- I mean your cat is pretty...lanky and evil as most cats are but like sir stop chewing on my ankles thank you very much. I have no idea how to kite Ann so uh 8/10 also is it Ann or Anne cause like ....?????????

Michiko (geisha): I respect you so much like sir/ma'am/they you have peak friendly hunter energy even when you're trying to cut me down and chair me but please calm down with your butterflies if you don't come around to using them also your so pretty help oh gosh I am ✨simping✨

Smiley face: I forgot his first name @_@. Uh y'all are cool I met one friendly joker main who watched the sea with me and a geisha in lakeside and it was peak bonding moment tbh if you look past the fact that I was bleeding to my death. I'm not even giving any opinions at this point I'm just sharing my experiences huh-

Grace (naiad): guys. Stop drowning people. Notice that there's an r in the word drowning. I'm fine with you downing me but my god STOP MAKING MINITURE LAKES AROUND CHAIRS PLeaSe if I don't die from the chair I'm going to die from the bathwater you're using to create mini lake naiad or not. Anyways I think I know how to kite you??? I'm getting close to figuring it out. I just gotta loop around stuff right? Fun. Until I die.

Violetta (soul weaver): I admire Violetta mains because I tried her out once and I swear she took up half of my tiny little mobile screen and I had no idea where I was going. The fact that you guys can cacoon (I can't spell help-) people to death is really cool too. You guys are probably ento fans too- maybe I think idk how I linked entomologist with soul weaver. Maybe it's the fact that they both like insects? Also does Violetta even have a face because I swear when I saw her for the first time I was crying my ass off because holy shit that's horror movie material right there sir

Yidhra (dream witch): you're clearly the thing jack the ripper mains aspire to be. Invisible- I have no idea how you guys work except for the fact that I should really find out if a character has a bowing emote because damn. At this point I might as well just join dream witch if I want to live through a match with her in it

Hastur (the feaster): when I heard the feaster part, I thought of some guy who really liked eating. Turns out it was just this tentacle abyss guy- I mean you guys are great when I'm not distracted by the thought of food- anyways slap me bitch I have my protection shield thing on that I got from hell ember hah

Gamekeeper: yet another character who's name I forgot. Probably some kind of canadian-american name tho like uh Alfred or um Sam. Abraham?? Washington???? Idk what classifies as an American/Canadian name bro all I know is this guy somehow got the head of the moose shoved into him and became a guy with a deer head. Wack. Your ability to yoink me back with that trap is really cool tho so props to you guys for that

Wu Chang (white/black guards): your hotbox is legendary. I was across the map once and a Wu Chang was on the other side and I suddenly got terrorshocked out of nowhere??? Like sir?? I wasn't even close to you and you still slapped the heck outta me? YOU HAVE AN UMBRELLA HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE- I- in conclusion? Wu Chang mains are hot as fuck but goddamn someone control that legendary hotbox or I'll hit them with the gardener's tool box INSTEAD-

Burke (mad eyes): I saw a decoder once and didn't know what it was so I tried it out. Didn't know it belonged to mad eyes. I was in a duo hunters map and I was having the time of my life watching everyone run before noticing that there the hunters (Burke and Mary) were together near a decoder and a survivor just casually watching them. So I looked around them and saw one person and I just thought to myself "wow, who's the oblivious dumbass who's next to them?"

And then I went out of it, looked around for a chair to dismantle and lo and behold.

I was the oblivious fuck next to them.

I got sent to jail via Burke's ability.

Robbie (axe boy): I feel so guilty about hitting Robbie mains with pallets so instead I just vault through as many windows as I can and pray for the best-

Bonbon (guard 26): fuck you and your bombs. I mean you're cute and all but goddamn that dance emote of yours-

Antonio (the violinist): this man could step on me and I would thank him. I radiate peak simp vibes around Antonio mains and I don't regret it. Y'all are so cool?? Like sir youre slapping people with music notes and they sound nice??? Like oh hey I'm at half health but at least I get to listen to nice music while running away from death-

In conclusion? Antonio mains are great I love them

Percy (the undead): fuck you I would rather be chaired than dying pathetically near one. At least let me have my dignity won't you? I mean you guys are cool but no💖

The Will brothers (the breaking wheel): what- what even are breaking wheel mains? Immortal? Inevitable ? I've only ever managed to outrun on and that was because I was near the church pews in the red church. You guys genuinely scare me and when I'm in a match with breaking wheel mains I just run upstairs and cry (in-game not in actual life though I have considered it once or twice-) I'm relieved by the fact that your faces are just masks tho. Y'all are dicks too✨💖

Phillipe (the wax artist): the amount of inappropriate jokes surrounding you guys- I swear no wonder y'all are so eager to chair people-

[macdonaldtms]

THE THREE DEATHS OF MARY MACDONALD : AN ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK !

what  is  a  life?  a  series  of  yeses  and  noes,  photographs  you  shove  in  a  drawer  somewhere,  loves  you  think  will  save  you  but  that  cannot.  continuing  to  move,  ENDURING,  not  stopping  even  when  there  is  pain.  that's  all  life  is,  he  wants  to  tell  her.  it's  continuing.

FEAR by sleeping at last.  plays over the scene where eoghan macdonald is informed of his wife’s death, while the young mary watches on. 

MAGGIE MAY by rod stewart. heard when the bartender placates a young margaret macdonald by singing a song named for her. 

HERE WE GO by norman. i will run, i will rise, i will grow. a bit too intense, but chosen mostly for the beat. plays over mary’s sorting into gryffindor house.

PROBLEMS by mother mother. you and me are not the same. i am a sinner, you are a saint. plays while mulciber & mary duel for the first time. as song choices go, it’s fairly deliberate - the jaunty nature is in direct contrast to the serious grudge that forms on this day, as mary beats him. 

BITCH (TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE) by lennon stella. plays over the scene immediately following the duel, when mary hits mulciber with a zinger that he will never really forget. ‘our blood doesn’t look as different as you thought it did, does it, marcus?’ chosen mostly for the beat. 

GRACE KELLY (ACOUSTIC) by mika. background music in the three broomsticks on mary’s first hogmseade trip, which also happens to be our first hint of her huge crush on sirius black. 

THE NIGHT by the last days of our past. plays over mulciber’s attack.

MEDICINE by daughter. you’ve got a warm heart, you’ve got a beautiful brain, but it’s disintegrating. mary’s possibility by lykke li arc is actually medicine by daughter. 

DAUGHTER by sleeping at last. and all you gotta do is put one foot in front of you. plays over the scene where eoghan reads through mary’s owl results and tells her how proud her mother would have been. 

JUPITER by flower face. i’m certain it must be holy to feel something so pure. plays as sirius creates a private bubble for mary in the middle of a gryffindor house party, intensifies as he joins her within it. turning point moment, for what has, until now, been a schoolgirl crush. 

BRAVE NEW WORLD by kalandra. is this the world we were meant to grow in? somebody tell me where we’re going? plays over the montage that closes out mary’s hogwarts years. juxtaposes the genuinely joyful flashes that are included within it and really intensifies the flashes of the ongoing war outside of the school - a war that mary chooses to fight, when the invitation is extended to join the order of the phoenix. 

LYING TO YOU by keaton henson. and as we lie in bed i feel lonely, though we’re young i feel eighty years old. plays over sirius encouraging mary to go to the wedding as peter’s date. ‘that’s my mary.’

WHISPERS by halsey. sabotage the things i love most. lyrically really good, chosen more for those than the music itself. plays around the scene’s where mary is pushing eoghan away.

SEX ON FIRE by kings of leon. if it’s not forever, if it’s just tonight. plays over the final scene at lily & james’ wedding ; mary makes a promise that she will never keep ( to apologise to peter ), due to sirius sweeping her off her feet - literally & figuratively. a pivotal scene. it’s important to see them as the flawed people they are, and to note that intentional or not, their whirlwind hurt people.

TELL ME A STORY by ramin djawadi. plays over the scene shared between mary & maggie following maggie’s graduation from hogwarts school. 

BABY TIGER by maple glider. i think my mind is fine, i’m fully aware it’s just the time. plays while sirius & mary lounge in bed ; mary traces sirius’ tattoos, and they share a laugh. 

WATCH YOUR BACK by sam tinnesz. we’re standing face to face with the hearts that turned to black. plays over the attack on diagon alley, as mulciber advances on & subsequently attacks mary ( for the second time ).

SUSPICION by lp. crippled cruel emotion, enough to turn an ocean turn to green. plays in the background of the leaky cauldron while sirius and mary discuss the spy within the order, and theorise on who it might be. there needs to be a more acoustic version of it - this is the closest i’ve gotten to something with the exact vibe, but it’s important to note it’s not suspicion between the lovers and instead, on everyone else. 

SAVE MY LOVE by lonr & amber mack. and now you’re slipping away, and i’m hoping you don’t drift too far. plays over sirius & mary’s fight. ‘go fuck yourself, sirius’ / ‘why would i do that when you’ve already done it for me?’

PUT IT ON ME by matt maeson. storm in the sky, fire in the trees. if there’s nothing but pain, put it on me. there’s no other way to say it : plays as sirius & mary fuck in the safe house kitchen. the only reason there’s a sex scene in this bio is because i wanted to attach this song to it, on the soundtrack.  

SHE KNOWS (INSTRUMENTAL) by j cole, amber coffeman & cults. bad things happen to the people you love and you find yourself praying up to heaven above, but honestly i’ve never had much sympathy cause those bad things always saw them coming for me. specifically this version, which isn’t on spotify. begins with the safe houses protection falling & plays while caradoc and mary battle the death eaters that descend. continues playing even up to the revelation that mary is pregnant.

LAST MOMENTS by trevor gureckis. plays as mary snaps her wand and throws what remains into the sea below, before following caradoc back inside of the ferry they flee england aboard. i specifically wanted the ocean sounds and tune that plays at the end of old, but i couldn’t find it, so,

ELEANOR RIGBY by the beatles. eleanor rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name. plays over the first half of the end credits. the very first source of inspiration for mary’s character and what every other facet was built from.

[jemej3m]

hi i love love love your writing! sorry if people have been asking this but ive been looking for a part three of your lawyer!andrew and neil is on trial for killing his father and I wasnt sure if I missed it or if you haven’t continued it. Just wondering thank you ❤️

well GUEsS WHAT MY FRIEND 

its here!!!

(p1 / p2)

*

Andrew didn’t like to drag things out, but the prosecution did. They always did. It was their only joy in life, especially in appeals: tease every possible fraying strand of a case till they were three weeks into the trial and the jury was dead on their feet. 

And yet, here he was, on the second day of his closing. He’d never made it to a second day: once he’d finished a closing in five minutes. 

Neil had grown progressively more antsy over the three weeks, desperate for a resolution. Every time he was scanned into court, Andrew took his favourite key and slipped it into his pocket. Every time he left to be escorted back to his temporary holding cell in Baltimore’s central policing station, he gave it back for safekeeping. Andrew would hold it, the metal still warm to the touch, the teeth of the key worn with how many times Neil would run the tips of his fingers over it. 

Professionalism, Betsy had warned him. 

But damn it all to hell: Andrew was gone. 

“Mr Minyard, if you would continue where we left off last night?” the judge drawled. Andrew could read people better than books: it wasn’t looking good. This was his last chance.

He stood up, shoved down the strange anger that had simmered beneath his skin every time the prosecution slid their pompous gazes over him, and closed his laptop. His briefcase. Put away his notes and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his slacks. 

“Your honour,” he said, with as much grace as his perpetually bored tone allowed. “This case is beyond that of my client. That much we can all agree upon.”

He waited for an answer. 

The judge cocked her head. “Yes, Minyard.” 

“It is a gruesome story of a luckless, loveless marriage, made for the sakes of alliances and blood money. Mary Wesninski paid that price with her life, when her husband took his favourite weapon - a cleaver - to her throat. My client was 17 when that happened. He was a minor. A child.” 

He turned to the jury. “Over and over, I have rebutted the prosecution’s solitary and feeble argument that my client is Nathan Wesninski’s son. The very Nathan Wesninski who earned his name, the Butcher, through bloody campaigns and fearmongering. That Nathaniel Wesninski was destined to follow his father’s path and continue his legacy.” 

“If it weren’t for his mother, perhaps he would have,” Andrew said, rocking back on his heels. “Without intervention, there’s no doubt that Nathaniel Wesninski would have been a carbon copy of his predecessor, and just as bloodthirsty. But that man -” he pointed at Neil. “That man is not Nathaniel Wesninski. Not in the way his father wanted him to be.”

“We’ve seen the pictures of my client’s torso. The bullet wounds and gruesome knifings that he earned whilst clawing desperately to free himself from his father’s iron grasp. Worse still: we’ve seen the proof of a tormented childhood, skin torn off by a hot iron, stitches from misplaced butter knives at the dinner table when Junior, seven years old, didn’t sit still enough. A crooked nose, broken three times before he managed to escape.”

He looked to the one woman who he knew would recognise this pain, this trauma. 

“You should have no doubt in your minds that this man here, my client,” Andrew said, voice lowered down. “This man was simply fighting for his life. He was running from his worst nightmare, clawing desperately for freedom when all he’d known was pain, chains and despair. He fought against what his father wished for him, every step of the way. In self-defence, he rid the world a serial killer. A rapist. A man who had committed every atrocity known to humankind. If anything, we should be thanking him.”

The room had gone deathly quiet. 

“Ask yourselves,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Is purging the world of a monster that monstrous of a thing to do?”

He turned back to the judge. 

“My client has served his time. He’s done twice as long as he should have for manslaughter, which is the true nature of this crime. Repeatedly, my client has expressed his willingness to comply with parole measures and prove himself a functioning member of our society. If you have any humanity left within you,” 

He looked over his shoulder at Neil. The man held his gaze, blue eyes so intense that Andrew nearly lost his train of thought. 

“Any humanity at all,” he continued. The judge looked down at him, face blank. “You would grant his mother her dying wish, and finally let this injustice rest.” 

He returned to his desk. “That’s all, your honour.” 

It took her a few moments to clear her throat and call: “Court adjourned.”

Two policemen came and cuffed Neil’s hands behind his back. Andrew had done everything he could: it was out of his hands now. He mightn’t ever see Neil again, if by the afternoon the jury had decided Neil’s pleas were worthless and had him sent him right back to maximum security. 

“Thank you,” the man said, just before he was turned away. “You were amazing.” 

Andrew remained very still until the courtroom was empty. 

Now all he could do was wait.

*

“The ‘dying wish’ thing was intense,” Matt commented around a mouthful of falafel. Dan flicked a crumb off his tie, looking at him with an irritated fondness. Both of them -  Wymack too - had sat in for both days of his closing. Dan because she pretended she had any sense of authority over Andrew, Wymack because he was Andrew’s boss, and Matt because he was fatally friendly and had never missed a closing of any of his coworkers, even Andrew. 

“The whole thing was intense,” Dan grumbled. 

“I bet the sexual tension was off the charts,” Allison called out, kicked up her feet onto her desk as she ignored Renee’s unsubtle shushing. 

Andrew ignored them all. 

“We’re just waiting for the verdict?”

“We’ll be called in when the jury’s ready.” 

“It’s been two days. They’ve dragged this on long enough.” 

The phone on his desk started ringing. He shoved it against his ear and said “What.”

“Mr Minyard? This is Amy Johnston from the Post, I was just wondering if you wanted to comment on the outcome of your most recent case -”

He slammed the phone back down onto the receiver, jolting his coworkers out of their idle chatter. He was going to kill Nicky for letting the press through. His cousin was useless, and the press were even worse: there was no outcome. The jury had been silent for 2 days, and at this rate, it’d probably go into three. 

Wymack texted him. I know you’re still at the office. Go home. 

 Andrew didn’t need to be told twice. 

He careened his ludicrously expensive car into the driveway of his small home. Being a lawyer did have its perks, even if his fellows were curious busybodies and he got attached to impossible cases. He’d crack a better whisky tonight and herald in the news of him impending failure half drunk. 

He was never taking a case like this again. Of course, there was no case quite like Nathaniel Wesninski’s, but the point still remained.  

He unlocked his front door, stepped inside, and immediately stilled. 

The heater was on. 

His briefcase, blazer and tie came off, thrown haphazardly in the general direction of Andrew’s study. When he entered his kitchen, he skidded to a stop. 

“Hi,” Neil said, skin far more bronze without the gaudy orange jumpsuit. Andrew just stared. The man ducked his head down, lacing his fingers behind his back. “I - uh, I got Wymack to call you in sick for the verdict. Wanted to surprise you.” 

“You knew,” Andrew said. “You knew the outcome?”

“Of course,” Neil snorted. “Had to do something with the bloodmoney. Don’t worry, it was only two of them. The rest you had hooked.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Andrew said flatly. Neil’s grin flashed, but he was clearly way out of his depth here. Free and nervous about it. Here, because he thought that Andrew would be the only one that cared. 

And he did. For the first time, he did. 

The man gestured at his ankle. “18 months parole. It’s a bit heavy but I’ll get used to it with time, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, curls bouncing. “Gotta find somewhere to live, I suppose. Figure out how normal life works. I’m applying for a name change: the first random name generator on Google gave me Josten, so that’s probably what I’ll go with.”

“You’re a disaster,” Andrew managed, fighting every urge not to reach out and comb his fingers through the man’s hair. 

“What else is new?” Neil joked. 

“You said you’d go to law school.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You’re holding me to that?” 

Andrew shrugged. “It’s your life.”

“I suppose you’ll regret taking me on when I end up stealing your cases,” Neil teased, leaning a little closer. 

Andrew reached up and tugged on Neil’s collar. “I don’t believe in regret. But I sure as hell will give you the challenge.”

Neil’s lips quirked up at the side, warping his scars and making Andrew’s chest ache.

“Stay,” Andrew said, softer than he intended. 

And, now that he could choose to, Neil Josten, freshly minted and definitely real, whispered: “Okay.”

*

wow only months later did i finally figure out what i wanted from this 

srry its so short!!

[cloak-enthusiast]

    Alya loved the winter time, even with the leaves gone the trees still managed to look beautiful with their adornments of snow and ice. There were snowball fights and fairy lights and ultimately..

     “Hot cocoa! Thanks for the hookup Mari, your parents make the best hot cocoa in Paris!”

     “Alya, I’ve sent you the recipe a dozen times, you can make it on your own.”

     “But there’s something special about it when your family makes it!”

     “No there’s no-” Marinette was cut off as Adrien said,

     “I-Wow! This is really good! You gotta get me some more of this!”

     “Back off Sunshine, the cocoa’s mine.”

     Everyone laughed it off and they were soon heading for the site of their double date: The skating rink. Logically, Alya knew that Marinette and Adrien were already dating (though she did find it suspicious how quickly they got together) and though she didn’t need to set them up anymore, that instinct was still there. The plan was, due to Marinette’s clumsiness being exacerbated on ice, she would fall, and Adrien - being the gentleman that he is - would catch her. 

     She mentally patted herself on the back, because she was  a genius. They should probably get her a Nobel prize or something, maybe some money? Now for her plan to fall in place. 

    She watched as Marinette wobbled over to the ice rink on her skates and gracefully stepped onto the ice- Wait, gracefully? Something wasn’t right, Marinette was never graceful.

     Did Marinette just pirouette? When did she learn to do that?

     “Nino, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

     “What. The. F u c k.”

     “Yeah, I know.”

     “You’d almost think she’s Ladybug with how graceful she’s being.”

     “Pssh, Marinette as Ladybug? That’s crazy!”

     Ironically as they said this Marinette was going through the motions of her Ladybug transformation sequence.

      “I guess that makes Adrien her Chat Noir?”

     “I mean, they’re actually quite in sync”

     “But perfect, polite, Adrien, running around in a skintight leather catsuit all day? Nah.”

     Privately, Nino disagreed as he had seen the ‘fireman’ pole in Adrien’s bedroom before.

     “Yeah, couldn’t see it.”

     T h u n k! Marinette had smashed into a wall like a bug on a windshield. There it was! Alya laughed at herself for thinking that Marinette could be Ladybug. If Marinette was Ladybug she would have figured it out in an instant. Marinette couldn't lie to save herself!

     Ha, Marinette as Ladybug, what a novel thought...

[softly-mossy]

hi i NEEDED rocky listening to sweet caroline in my life so i wrote this. it’s exactly what you think it is

[ao3 link]

Sometimes, the two of us are able to mind our own business and work independently. Of course, Rocky’s work is far more advanced and elaborate than mine, but that’s beside the point. I don’t know how he does it: when he works and really focuses on what he’s doing, he’s completely silent. No sounds other than the clinking of the tools he’s working with.

Frankly, it’d drive me insane. I don’t know if it’s just a “human” thing, but I hated the sound of silence--rather, the absence of it, I guess. It makes a person feel alone, even though I know he’s literally right there. It’s probably some deep-ingrained instinctual thing from way back when in the caveman days. It makes sense: if you can’t hear something, you don’t know where it is.

I chose to fill the silence with Hail Mary’s onboard plethora of media. When they said they included any media that may have been needed, they really meant everything. I could watch a movie as I sit here and wait for my death, if I wanted. It’d be a fitting time to watch 2001: A Space Odyssey, I suppose. I decided against it. Something about watching the Discovery’s  onboard AI sabotaging it, while being in my own ship…it did nothing to soothe my nerves about my already-slim chances of survival.

I do side with HAL-9000, though.

Right now, I am sifting through the catalog of music available. Do I try to go the “smart, sophisticated” route and listen to classics? Or do I do something I’d actually enjoy, like listen to 80’s rock?

Obviously, I went with the 80’s rock.

I listen to it through the comms meant to communicate to the other astronauts and with Earth. Considering the others are…you know; and Earth is so far away that it’s pointless to try to contact anyone, I figured it’d be justified to use them for something unintended. A man’s gotta have his last comforts.

I can literally feel the endorphins release as “Sweet Caroline” starts playing. The familiarity of it almost makes me forget that I’m waiting to die in a hopeless effort. Neil Diamond knew what he was doing here, and I thank him for it immensely. I’m already drifting off into a relaxed haze, idly tapping my foot to the percussion of the song.

Apparently, it takes me a good while to realize Rocky is trying to get my attention. He’s furiously beating on the convex surface of the travel ball he resides in. Like an annoyed teenager, I remove one earbud and glare at him. “What?”

“Grace, ignorant.” He says simply and stubbornly. If he knew how (and what it meant), he probably cross his arms like a not-angry-just-disappointed parent. “What sound?”

I’m half tempted to put the earbud back in and ignore him, but first of all, that’s rude to the alien lifeform that decided to stop by and help me with my workings; second of all, I’m better than that; and third of all, Rocky would just keep annoying me until I paid attention anyways. “‘What sound’?”

“Hear, sound,” Rocky explains. “Speaking?”

He’s talking about my music. “Oh. I’m listening to music.”

“Musics?” He seems intrigued now.

“Yeah. It’s just…” I wave my hand as I fumble for words, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it, “another way of relaxing. If you listen to the right type,” I tack on quickly.

“Rocky, hear?” He doesn’t even try to be subtle about being excited to learn something new. He’s fidgeting in his little travel ball eagerly, rolling forward and back. It is basically him excitedly shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“Oh,” I say. I’ve got nothing against letting him figure out some more human culture, but I have to be careful about which songs I picked. The console wouldn’t play music aloud, so I have to fetch one of the tablets floating around to be able to have the music on speaker. I decide to stick with “Sweet Caroline,” because I think it’s a top-notch example of human talent. I set the tablet on the desk adjacent to us as the music starts.

The first few notes drift out, and I automatically start tapping my foot to the rhythm gently. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I feel stupid sitting here and doing nothing, so I fetch another tablet to check on the Astrophage levels.

Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing.

But then I know it’s growing strong…

Was in the spring,

And spring became the summer.

Who’d have believed you’d come along?

I side eye Rocky. He’s completely still as he listens to the lyrics. I wonder if he’ll actually be able to understand most of them. There’s no real out-of-sorts or unfamiliar words in the song, so I’m guessing he could. “What d’you think of it so far?”

Rocky takes a moment to respond, clearly thinking it over. “Strange,” he finally chirps, but quickly adds, “Good strange! Enjoy!”

I can’t help but smile. Here I am, on a spaceship, billions of miles from home, and I’m sitting and listening to classic rock with a real, honest-to-God alien. I could get used to this. I bet people would give everything to have something similar.

The interlude before the chorus starts playing, the music slowly intensifying. The tapping of the cymbal on every beat is my new rhythm to tap my foot to.

Hands, touching hands…

Rocky is leaning ever closer to the tablet, as if he thinks he’ll miss something. It’s like when a cat sees a cursor on the screen, except he can’t see. He’s certainly cat-like, though.

Reaching out…

Touching me, touching you…

I watch as he holds his hands up curiously. He’s taking the lyrics literally, like directions. His little claws flex idly and he listens along, presumably making some sort of clicking sound, but I can’t hear it through the xenonite bubble.

Sweet Caroline!

First of all, it should be some sort of regulation or law that you have to bang your fists or stomp your feet or generally just beat the hell of whatever you target when “Sweet Caroline” gets to the chorus. Second of all, that law should apply everywhere in the damn universe. I don’t care if whatever is listening doesn’t have limbs to beat on something with. They can improvise.

Rocky is decidedly taken off-guard when I slap my fist on the desk in time with the bum, bum, bum of the trumpets. I don’t even think about doing it; it’s another one of those reflexes you have ingrained into your mind after your first experience--kind of like how you reflexively duck if you see something coming towards your head. Here, my brain decides, “Yup, it’s time,” and beats out the rhythm perfectly.

Rocky seems frazzled after my outburst. He’s recoiled away into the furthest corner of his ball and freezes there. His legs are splayed, askew as he tries to keep his balance after such a fright.

I realize how bad I’ve scared him and pause the music. “Rocky! I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t even think about it. It’s one of those things that just…happens, you know?”

Rocky eases back a little. “Grace, angry?”

Everything clicks. “Good grief, Rocky! You think I’d do that?” I continue on before he has a chance to answer. “It was a good thing. Excitement. When you get really into a song, you follow its rhythm. That’s what that was.” I nearly babble as I explain and try to clear things up.

“Grace, happy?” He offers when I finish.

“Yes!” I laugh. Of course this would happen. Of course this sort of thing would occur while I was involved. “You try it!”

We both listen closely as the second chorus approaches.

Good times never seemed so good!

I tap the xenonite bubble excitedly. “You ready?” Rocky titters on his feet. 

I've been inclined….

He misses the first beat, but catches the next two perfectly, clinking his claws on the xenonite bubble. I bellow out a laugh. Rocky goes frantic with the tapping on his travel ball.

To believe they never would,

But now I…

We listen to the song in its entirety. By now, Rocky’s learned to recognize the chorus and continues beating the hell out of his travel ball when prompted. I even catch him sort of ‘bobbing’ to the percussion of the song. Sightless be damned, that Eridian can dance. It literally feels euphoric to have shared something so wonderful with someone who has never even heard of the concept.

When the song nears its end and starts to fade away, Rocky leans closer to the tablet, presumably to hear it better. It soon cuts off completely, leaving him fidgeting and disappointed.

“Do you want to listen to it again?” I ask and he immediately perks right back up.

“Yes! Again again again!”

It goes on for hours. I offer to play different songs. Rocky politely says no. I put on the song again. I can hear “Sweet Caroline” playing in my head even when the song stops. My palms hurt from slapping them on the desk at Rocky’s prompting. He, however, shows no signs of stopping. His happy little bobbing-dance never ceases. I think of ways to distract him so the music could properly stop. Don’t you have things to build? Things you’re working on? You should get back to those. I’m literally begging you to.

I suppose there could be worse things that could happen. I could be actually dying rather than being forced to listen to Neil Diamond on repeat for literal hours.

[wanderingmirror]

They kept him chained down within his own mind. The mask of being human always causing his anger to spike. Dean hid his rage behind smiles and attitude. But when Sam chose a demon over him, the room they had been in turned into an even greater mess. Archangels, Angels, and demons across the world could feel the wave of dark and golden grace. Ruby shivered and whimpered silently to herself while away from Sam.

Dean felt the rage overflow, he could not control himself as he searched for his human brother. Words are the nicest thing he could have with the She-demon.

———————————————————————

When Lilith was slain, her blood opening the cage, Dean entered the room, a dark look in his eyes. Sam felt fear spike in his chest when he saw the darkened look coming from his brother’s eyes. The moment Ruby was in sight, the words died in Dean’s throat at what the She-demon manipulated his Sammy into doing. Ruby, fortunately for her, was only stabbed with the knife Dean had taken with him. Dean letting out a vicious roar as he did so. Sam shivered and the beings in the area did the same. As Lucifer came up from the cage he felt the vengeful, dark grace push against his own. He yelled and his wings fluttered. Dean looked over to the fallen angel, his eyes glowing a pure white.

“Abbas?” He said softly and moved closer to the human who should not have grace coming from his form. Dean twitched and felt the signs of a black out coming for him. Sam’s eyes widened when Dean’s rolled into the back of his head. Lucifer lounged for the elder Winchester as he collapsed, but he only caught air as both brothers vanished. Sam was the only one awake to see the old church get destroyed. Dean unconscious.

———————————————————————

When the two brothers returned to Bobby’s, Dean fled into the panic room. Locking himself in and screaming in agony and rage. A long locked away secret clawing to get loose. To find their anchor. “LUCIFER! MICHEAL!” Dean screamed in Enochian. “GABRIEL!” His voice shaking the house entirely. The names of his brothers and his anchor sending shivers through Sam and Bobby’s spines. “Bobby what’s going on?!” Sam shouted as Dean’s wails got louder and louder. Bobby shrugged in terrified confusion. He scurried with the younger Winchester when the screams, worryingly, stopped. They found Dean laying limp on the wall farthest from the door. All of the Archangels shivered when the screams stopped.

Lucifer curled within the vessel he inhabited. “I hear you brother. I hear you.” He whispered with his grace nudging against the darkened grace surrounding his in a bond made long ago. His eyes sealed shut and his body shivering.

———————————————————————

Sam and Bobby dug deep into the books and lore to figure out who Lucifer had called Dean, since the eldest Winchester refused to come out of the panic room to do so. “Castiel, can you come down here? We need your help.” Sam prayed and got an answer through the book before him being flipped and a page being turned to. Faded, but still legible. Abbas, Archangel of Judgement. Three pairs of wings, bronze, gold, and white. Dirty blonde hair and eyes the same as Dean’s.

Dean’s wails started up again. He wanted to be freed. He wanted to spread his wings, to reap judgement past due. His grace wanted to wrap around the grace of his anchor, to feel it cool and calm his own. And after four days of this cycle of quiet then chaos. Dean left the panic room in a daze. He leaned against the door frame as he walked to his and Sam’s shared room. Laying down and passing out. “Dean?” Sam asked softly when he woke to find Dean curled around him later on. Arms wrapped protectively and legs tangled with his. Dean just pulled the younger closer and encouraged him to sleep too.

———————————————————————

The chase to find and reseal Lucifer was long. Castiel and the other angels tense and nervous around Dean when they were needed. Dean was quiet, hands itching to touch the remains of grace from his anchor only to find him long gone. Bond eerily quiet and cold. When they found Gabriel, the archangel froze. Eyes locking on Dean when he brushed his grace against that of Gabriel’s. The amber eyed male tearing up. He was then pulled into the arms of his big brother. Sobbing and pushing his grace into Dean’s, seeking comfort he hasn’t had in millions of centuries. Though the elder Winchester was surprised at first, he still soothed the other with his own. “You’re awake! I heard you! But they wouldn’t let me find you!”

Dean soothed Gabriel with soft words. Leaving Sam confused, bitch face in full swing. “De, start talking. Now.” Sam demanded as he crossed his arms. Dean gently nudging Gabriel into his side to rest. The three had sat down after Gabriel was finished checking Dean over. Dean was reluctant to talk about his angelic history. It being far to sore a subject that even Bobby was strictly in the dark. “If I had it my way, Sammy, I wouldn’t tell you shit.” Dean grumbled. He rubbed Gabriel’s back, between wings in severe need of grooming, as he thought how best to talk to Sam. “Well, I’d like to know how long this Abbas asshole has been with you. So, start from there.” Dean wanted to laugh. Sammy thought that Abbas was someone else entirely. When in reality, he and the archangel of judgment were one and the same.

“Sammy, here’s what you don’t seem to get. I am Abbas. Abbas is me. I’m, how you say, in my own personal prison. I never wanted to be human.” Dean said with no small amount of irritation. “Before, and even after the rebellion, I got a little too twitchy for the old man’s liking. So he and Death decided to seal what they didn’t like away. What better way to deal with an Archangel who just lost the one thing keeping them sane.” Dean’s mouth twitched in a humorless smile for a moment. Gabriel shivered when the short haired male decided to groom messy wings. Though Sam could not out right see the wings, Dean could.

It was common that Dean, while still with his brethren, would check the wings of fledglings and even the archangels. Grooming them like a mother hen. The others realized long ago that it reassured Dean they were still there. As many had disappeared suddenly over time. “That doesn’t explain everything. You damn well know that.” Sam stated and Dean did laugh then. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. They bound me in a human form, many human forms actually. Gotta move with the times right? I constantly had to grow back up. Lived with different human parents.” Dean shrugged at the horrified expression on Sam’s face.

“Then I was born in the Winchester household. As Dean Winchester. Eldest brother to you. I couldn’t access my grace back then. To save Mary. She was actually a mother I wanted to grow up with. To make proud.” Dean sighed with grief. “But, seems Azazel had other plans. And I got raised differently. Well, I didn’t get raised. I raised you and grew up being a parent instead of a child. Didn’t mind since I’d had children in my past lives.” Dean smiled fondly at those memories. Gabriel purring in his lap.

The other archangel had moved to nuzzle under his brother’s neck. Laying chest to chest to give Dean better access to his wings. Dean sat the feathers on the floor next to the couch after they either fell or were pulled. Sam found it both very cute and oddly enough didn’t seem bothered that the smaller archangel was curled like a cat against his brother. But then again, he had seen weirder. Dean grumbled when he found things within the wings, muttering about washing them later.

Dean felt his own wings flutter at the thought of bathing. His own grace shivering in quiet excitement that did nothing to pull Gabriel from his sleep. Dean poked the bond connecting him to his anchor, scowling when he found the bond was still icy and silent. “Who’s your bond with, Dean?” Sam asked after Dean gently kissed the side of Gabriel’s head. The smaller angel nuzzling subconsciously. “Lucifer. I did mention that I was going insane after his fall, ya know.” Dean arched a brow when Sam choked on his own spit at the declaration. Sam looked at Dean like he had two heads after that. Watching as the elder Winchester picked the archangel up and started for what he assumed was the bathroom.

Sam didn’t follow. Something Dean was grateful for, as he wasn’t keen on letting the giant of a man see his baby brother naked. To Dean, it’s like looking at your children. He raised the younger angels and Archangels after they were created. And once Lucifer and Micheal were old enough they helped him raised the others. Dean snorted while getting the water warm. Gabriel was always with Lucifer, both having tricks and pranks to dish out. Never against Dean though, as he could do much worse than them.

Micheal learned fighting styles and other more warrior like things from Dean. Always copying the elder Archangel, Dean pretending he didn’t see the boy as he trained beside him. Rafael was raised into books, and much to his delight, Dean always had stories to tell or books to help him learn. While he did have their father’s wisdom and knowledge, it was Dean who helped him channel it. As time went on, Dean and Lucifer fell for the other. The elder of the two seemingly calming down from his more destructive habits. Much to the annoyance of their Aunt Amara. Dean snorted again as he sat Gabriel in the bath, his wings spread out over the edges so Dean could reach them. Dean hummed softly, it sounded like a far away church organ. Gabriel purred as he woke up, blinking sleepily as he caught Dean humming in his more angelic voice.

“You still sound beautiful, big bro.” He said softly, earning a chuckle as he shuttered his eyes. Dean kept humming. While he was by no means a choir angel, he still could sing. Baritone was his most used tone. It rumbled deep in his chest and caused the fledglings and younger angels to giggle. It also calmed down the Seraphs after a day of battle. Gabriel made a small sound of relief when he felt the debris leave his wings under the spray. He hadn’t paid much attention to his wings after Abbas was sealed away and Lucifer was cast out of heaven. “And you wonder where the youngling Choir angels got it from.” Gabriel teased and made a large exhale as his oil glands were cleared. Dean snorted at the memory of having little choir angels trying to sing with him. They couldn’t keep a tune for long but they got better with time and patience. Patience, the angel race found, was ever present for them alone.

Dean scowled a bit, remembering how he got twitchy after their father created the humans. Lucifer had the mark containing Aunt Amara at the time. So the twitchy attitude Dean had at the time was thought to be understandable. It wasn’t until Lucifer snapped that Abbas felt the tugs to cast judgment upon the humans. He even felt the urge from Lucifer from time to time to do it. Though the younger archangel tried to hide it from him. Their father realized that Abbas wasn’t handling the new creations as well as he did with the angels. Lucifer being cast down was only the icing on the cake after that. Since the Archangel had no way of keeping a calm and rational mental state.

So much like Aunt Amara, Abbas was sealed in a different type of cage. “You’re brooding again.” Gabriel mumbled sleepily, getting wing massages and bathes were lulling the youngest Archangel to deep sleep again. Dean smiled softly as he emptied the tub, pulled Gabriel into a warm towel, and dried the man off. He walked to Gabriel’s room and found warm fluffy clothes to wrap his brother in. Along with boxers, Dean clothed his brother and put him to bed. “You really do have the mindset of a mom.” Sam snickered, quietly laughing when Dean turned a half hearted glare onto him. “Well when you have nothing else to do but be a parent to your younger siblings, it tends to stick.” Dean responded with no heat, Sam still felt a little guilty for not trying harder to be a better brother. Dean huffed a breath, he twitched his wings as he walked. He couldn’t do anything more than twitch them, they were bound by holy leather to his back. All three sets.

———————————————————————

Dean rolled his neck and popped it, grunting softly. It would be a long time before he could rid himself from these straps. Since no one but his bonded, who was still missing, or Micheal, who he hasn’t seen in millennium, could cut them off. Dean had tried ridding himself of them, but all it did was tighten the straps to his back. The blonde felt a growl well up in his chest, felt his darkened grace lash out at forces that were no longer within his reach to feel. With his grace locked and his wings restrained, the calls to cast Judgment were few and far in between. Sam had gone to bed, Gabriel had remained asleep still. Dean didn’t feel the need to rest. He poked at the bond, quiet still, but warming up. Dean smiled softly in quiet relief that his anchor didn’t feel he had to block Dean from him. Even if it was only to give the sense of safe-alive-home that Dean really needed.

“I’ll find you, beloved. Neither Father nor Death will keep me from you.” Dean muttered with a steadfast promise. And somewhere in the world, Chuck shivered, knowing full well that Abbas would keep that promise.

———————————————————————

Elsewhere, Lucifer was in hell. Dealing with things that had gone down while he was away. Feeling the constant pokes and prods of his Archangel of Judgement. Abbas was worried, and a small bit of anger. Lucifer knew damn well why Abbas was angry. Being separated from his grace, from his wings, from their brothers, and from Lucifer himself. Abbas was twitchy even before they were separated. Lucifer gave Abbas a small bit of reassurance, and felt the anger and worry ease into something he was sure Abbas could now manage. The darkened grace almost having a purr of its own now that Lucifer has acknowledged its owner. Lucifer can’t meet with Abbas now, in his mind Lucifer isn’t ready to see him again. But feeling his Archangel through the bond was enough to reassure him that Abbas still loved him.

As the demons around him moved, Lucifer allowed his wings to brush against the walls and the pillars of the throne room. None of the others understood what their lord was doing, nor did they need to. Lucifer stretched his wings, feeling the pops and cracks of disuse leave. With a sigh, Lucifer vanished to the surface to explore. Trying to get an idea of where his Archangel was. However, the shift in placement told Abbas where Lucifer was anyway. Lucifer was sure of that. It didn’t take much for Abbas to figure out where Lucifer was when the bond they had formed so long ago was so strong. But the younger Archangel knew that, without his wings the Archangel of Judgement could not fly to him. Something Lucifer was sure Abbas was roaring internally about.

“Do you think he’ll let me see him soon?” Lucifer looked at the sky without the need to turn around. Rafael was there behind him. “Don’t count on it, Elder brother.” Rafael said simply as he felt the warmth of Abbas’ grace flow over them both. While the archangels could only move their grace at Will to things nearest them, Abbas could reach across the world if he needed. Judgement is passed to everyone, not just a few. “I say the old man will. He can’t keep Abs away from his anchor forever.” Lucifer snarked. “Besides, he doesn’t want Abs to cast judgment on his favorite toys too soon, right?” He snickered when Rafael’s eyes went wide before the other vanished to tell their brother. “Don’t have to wait too long, Abs. I’ll find you before he has the chance to try and control you.” Lucifer muttered as he vanished back to Hell.

[deathonyourtongue]

Winter Passing | Chapter 6

Summary: After car accident leaves him at the base of a mountain with no sign of civilization for miles, a breakup is the least of Henry’s problems. Just as death’s icy fingers begin to coil around him, salvation presents itself in the form of an old cabin in a clearing. Despite years of being told fairy tales and ghost stories that warn against such things, he uses his last of his strength to reach the cottage. When he wakes, he finds not a demon, but an angel, long removed from the insanity of the modern world. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 2K Warnings: Smutty goodness, but not like you think. A/N : Bet you can’t guess the song being sung in this chapter!

I  II  III  IV V

_______________________________________________

Send me a PM me if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list!

@fumbling-fanfics​ @skiesfallithurts​ @pinkpenguin7​ @madmedusa178​ @fangoria​ @bluestarego​ @my–own–personal–paradise @tastingmellow​ @honeychicanawrites​ @angelicapriscilla​ @swiftyhowlz​ @schreiberpablo​ @pinkwatchblueshoes​ @kirasmomsstuff​ @prettypascal​ @nardahsb @playbucky​ @queen-of-the-kastle​ @cajunpeach​ @godlikeentity​ @captainsamwlsn​ @lilac-tea-time​ @katerka88​ @melaninmimii​ @alienor-romanova​ @downtowndk​ @redhairedmoiraandtheliferuiners​ @safiras @agniavateira​ @henryfanfics101​ @fatefuldestinies​ @iloveyouyen​ @justaboringadult​ @xxxxxerrorxxxxx​ @bloodyinspiredfuck​ @peakygroupie​ @stxphmxlls​ @trippedmetaldetector​ @radaofrivia​ @speakerforthedead0​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @snowbellexx​ @leilabeaux​ @cavillunraveled​ @woofgocows​​ @andahugaroundtheneck​​ @sofiebstar​​ @kmhappybunny​​ @mary-ann84​​ @cappot​​ @cheyentjj​​ @cavillhavoc​​ @sleepy-moon-girl​​ @princess-of-riviaa​​ @peakyrogers​​ @hell1129-blog​​ @thethirstyarchive​​ @worldicreate​​ @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​​ @henry-cavill-obsessed​​ @rmtndew​​ @elena-lawley​​ @bichibibi​​ @penwieldingdreamer​​ @scoopitypoopbloop​​ @flightofthefantasies​​ @justrae9903​​ @raspberrydreamclouds​​ @minton131​​ @hollydaisy23​​ @mizzzpink​​ @omgkatinka​​ @rn7rocks​​ @elenas-fanficrecs​​ @ohjules​​ @writernerd23​​ @whatawildone​​ @toss-some-coffee-to-your-witcher​​ @modernscarlett​​ @jasmindaughteroftheworld​​ @badoopwoop​​ @onlyhenrys​​ @moderapoppins​​ @flouncingxtart​​ @ffreadings​​ @captaingothgirl1996​​ @schmidten17​​ @alexakeyloveloki​​ @asylummara​​ @dearlybelovedluke​​ @pinkzsugar​​ @valkyrhys​​ @ntlmundy​​ @livingonmywishes​​ @thotti3evans​​  @whitewolfandthefox​​ @madbaddic7ed​​ @sausagefest1996​​ @foxyjwls007​​ @fuckoffbard​​ @bethabear12​​ @lovieebby​​ @marswritings​​ @mooniiieee​​ @traceyaudette​​ @pumpkinglory​​ @keiva1000​​ @my-rosegold-soul​​ @geralt-of-baevia​​ @luna-aestas​​ @thereisa8ella​​ @lovefreylove​​

Tiago had never been the most graceful of birds. A parrot by technicality of his species alone, the fact that he could fly at all was something of an affront to nature. With cartoonish eyes that got comically wide whenever he was indignant (which was often), and a plump, squat body that was too heavy to be aerodynamic in any way, he defied all odds as he tumbled through the wind currents, simply happy to be away from his home and made truly useful yet again.

“But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon? Or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon or she, who leapt up mountains, while whistling up a tune and swapped her songs with swallows while riding on a broom?” He sang to himself as he played in the trade winds, looping and curling and sometimes falling a little too close to the water for his own liking. 

When he reached Cuba, Tiago allowed himself to be ping-ponged violently from the Trades into the Westerlies, shivering as the colder currents tossed him up the Atlantic coast towards the woman who lived in the clearing at the bottom of the mountain. 

“‘Take the message to the woman with the sad eyes,’ they said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ they said.” He mocked his keepers in his usual aristocratic squawk. As he spoke, Tiago’s head plunged into the frigid water that hemmed New Jersey, a screech replacing his dignified words as he shook the quickly-forming icicles off his neon green feathers. 

“THEY NEVER SAID I WAS FLYING INTO THE WITCH’S TIT ON THE SHADY SIDE OF THE ICEBERG!” He hollered, flapping his short wings frantically to try and get over the worst of the air stream, hoping that hot air truly did rise and that he could gain some of that warm balmy feeling once more before having to plummet back down to earth.

Though it was only mildly warmer above the current, Tiago found himself worn out from his exertions, only managing to float above the cold air for half of New York before plunging back down and riding the frozen spiral of wind towards his destination.

“‘Where the earth meets the water, that’s where you shall find her. Where once was blood now only tears. Behind the White Mountain, reside your peers.’” Tiago recited, his keen yellow eyes quickly finding the spot, wings tucking in close to his body as he went into a free fall towards the small cottage. 

The sound of his body cutting clumsily through the air caught Dyster’s attention, and despite enjoying a leisurely snack of leftover rabbit innards, his sleek black wings lifted him up like a bullet piercing the air. The two birds collided mid-flight, squawks and screeches like sirens in the otherwise-silent clearing. 

“UNHAND ME, YOU SAVAGE! I COME ON THE ORDER OF THEOFINA!” 

“Theo-who? Get off my land, you overgrown avocado!”

“Avo-Avocado! How dare you! Where is your mis--LET GO!--mistress?!?”

Spinning mid-air in a ball of green and black feathers, the two birds made such a ruckus that it woke Gunnar out of a dead sleep. Looking out the back door, he began to bark, knowing Olivia would want to see what was happening. 

The racket woke both Olivia and Henry, and while the latter quickly rolled over and went back to sleep, Olivia knew Gunnar’s warning bark when she heard it. Putting on a sheer robe, she flew down the stairs, sliding to a stop next to the husky and following his gaze out to the stone circle.

“What in the…” she mused, Olivia slipping into her boots and stepping outside without a thought for the cold. 

“Dyster! What are you doing? Let go of it!” 

Hearing his mistress’ voice, Dyster unceremoniously dropped Tiago right into Gunnar’s open mouth, the husky holding the parrot gently in his maw.

“Oh, the torment! This is how I perish, at the hands of brutes! Mercy, mistress, I beg of you!” Tiago lamented dramatically, Gunnar rolling his eyes and giving Tiago a test squeeze before letting him fall to the snow with a wet plop. Olivia bent down and quickly picked up the parrot, brushing the snow off him and checking to make sure neither raven nor husky did any permanent damage.

“Thank you, fair maiden. I come on command of Theofina of the Order Athanato Fengari-” “Order of the Immortal Moon, I know. What does she want?” Olivia rolled her eyes at Tiago’s pageantry, already knowing her answer to whatever command Theofina had for her. 

“My mistress requests your presence at the Order’s Imbolc festivities. Says she has important business to discuss with you regarding the past and your future.” 

Olivia took in the words, remembering what the tea leaves had shown earlier; Good direction, a warning, travel, and the masculine. It was more than coincidence that an invitation to Rome should come not even a full day after the leaves had signaled travel. Already, they’d been right about the masculine and with a quick look over her shoulder at Henry’s window, Olivia was more and more certain that the leaves were, yet again, correct in their prophecy. 

Tiago eyed Olivia warily as he waited for her answer, keen to get back to warmer skies and even warmer land. 

“Don’t rush her, you useless sack of cabbage. She’ll answer when she’s good and ready.” Dyster cut in before the parrot could speak, landing gracefully on Olivia’s arm before pecking at Tiago as though testing his doneness.

“Dyster, be good. He’s an emissary, not dinner.”

“Shame. He’d make for good barbecue,” Gunnar replied before Dyster could, licking his chops as he growled quietly at Tiago, both he and Dyster ready to end the intruder should he step out of line. 

“No one’s getting eaten!” Olivia said, her voice a little louder than she intended. With an exasperated sigh, she looked down at Tiago. “Tell your mistress she’ll have an answer after the new year.”

“But, she’ll make me-”

“New Year, Tiago. No discussion.” She cut him off, reading his name on the tag around his neck, one Tiago clearly forgot he had on by the look of shock on his face. 

“So it’s true! Once again my mistress proves her superiority in all things, including secret knowledge. I shall fly home at once and pass along your remarks! Good day, my lady of sadness.”

The trio watched as Tiago took flight, their heads all crooked to the right as they each tried to figure out how such a hefty creature could defy gravity. 

“It’s a spell, right?” Gunnar asked, eyes unmoving as they watched Tiago fumble his way higher and higher.

“Gotta be.” Dystra answered, fighting the urge to fly up after Tiago for just a little more fun.

“Who knows. Pompous little creature...” Olivia shook her head, turning to go back inside once Tiago was out of sight. 

“Offensive too. Should’ve let me eat him....” Gunnar added, following her in as Dyster flew back to his perch.

Not looking up until she was well inside the house, Olivia shrieked, shut her eyes, and covered herself as much as she could when she came face-to-face with an equally nude Henry.

“WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!?” She cried out, trying to find her way around her guest, but managing only to hit her hip on the kitchen counter, the collision strong enough to shoot pain right down her leg like a flash.

“I WAS GONNA TAKE A BATH! I THOUGHT YOU WERE OUT DOING STUFF ALREADY! WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!?”

“IT’S MY HOUSE AND I SLEEP HOW I WANT, HENRY!!” She yelled, the pain amplifying her frustration with a morning that had already gone sideways.

Cracking open one eye, Olivia placed her free hand at the right level to cover Henry’s crown jewels, her eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. 

“I’m going upstairs. Don’t look.” She muttered, her frown growing deeper as her words earned her a chuckle from Henry, his tone deep and warm. 

“Too late for that, love.” He answered, the smile in his voice matching his humor. 

To her chagrin, Henry’s laugh, coupled with his words, made her feel things she’d not felt in some time, and it only made getting upstairs all the more imperative. Scurrying past, she did her best to keep her eyes on something other than his nude form, but as she began to climb, it was impossible to miss the view of his pert backside. Olivia knew what she had to do, but doing it with full knowledge of what Henry would be doing downstairs--and of how quiet everything would be in the house as a whole--made the prospect seem nearly impossible. 

Still, Olivia was certain there’d be no other way to turn the morning around, and so once in the solace of her room, with no animals or naked houseguests around, she let her robe slip off her body and climbed into bed. Slipping open the top drawer of her night stand, she pulled out what she needed, and doing her best to relax, tried to let the confusion of the morning slip away in favor of letting her imagination run wild.

Downstairs, Henry had managed to fill the tub, testing the water to make sure he wouldn’t scald himself. The last thing he needed was to be even more invalid than he already was. Lowering himself into the water, he closed his eyes as the warmth enveloped him, his own mind working overtime not only because of his morning encounter with Olivia, but because of the dream he simply couldn’t shake. Weirdly erotic, the dream came back in bits and pieces; Olivia standing nude outside, Gunnar at her feet, the dog protecting her from something Henry couldn’t quite see. More than anything, he remembered that he too was nude and holding himself in his hand for some reason. The more he thought about it, the more his body took over. Before he knew it, Henry was stroking himself slowly under the water, his cock already half-hard given the time of day and the addition of the dream.

His body relaxing, Henry was just starting to get into a rhythm, when the soft sounds of Olivia moaning cut through the silence. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes and focused on the melodic expression of pleasure, letting his imagination play out a fantasy that had been brewing since she’d first gotten him into the tub and handed him the too-small towel.

It was easy to picture making love to Olivia in the tub, water flooding the floor as he gave her as much pleasure as she could handle, his own intensified by the movement of her body against his. His hand tightened around his length as he stroked, imagining Olivia’s petite frame moving with fluidity and grace, her breasts a perfect fit for his hands as she took him in hard and deep, gasping as he filled and stretched her.

In her bed, Olivia’s own fantasy played out somewhat differently. As she slipped the ornate glass dildo in and out of her soaked entrance, she pictured Henry flattening her to the mattress, his front pressing into her back as he rutted into her like a stallion mounting a mare in estrus. Legs splaying wide of their own accord, Olivia could almost feel the press of his warm lips to her face and neck, the pressure building inside her with each stroke of Henry’s proxy. In her mind, he was as wonderful in bed as he was a houseguest; tender yet lively, and knowing exactly how to make her smile even as he made her scream. 

Panting, Olivia pushed the toy in and out at a faster clip, her juices darkening the sheets beneath her as the thought of Henry taking her worked her into a frenzied state of arousal the likes of which no other man--real or imagined--had ever managed before. 

Whimpering keenly as she felt the heat bloom inside her, Olivia knew one orgasm simply wouldn’t cut it. Her thighs trembled as she thought about the press of his weight on top of her, the heat of his body setting her own alight. Most of all, she thought about willingly suffering in order to have his full length inside her, remembering clearly how big he was, even soft. Aroused by the notion that she’d have to work through discomfort to get all of him in, she found herself gasping and rolling onto her hands and knees, the dildo plunging in and out of her at even greater speeds as her wetness slipped lewdly down her inner thighs.

Henry did his best to keep the water from splashing as he matched his strokes to Olivia’s moans and whimpers, his mind turning to what she might be doing to herself upstairs. Having caught an eye-full when she’d come inside, Henry had no problems picturing her bare, pink pussy as she pleasured herself. His cock jerked in his hand as he thought about her hips squirming and jolting up as she toyed with her clit or slipped her fingers inside herself. Nipples hard and chest heaving, she looked radiant in his mind, a goddess worthy of worship, one who he’d gladly drown between the thighs of. Biting the inside of his cheek, Henry managed to stay silent as he came, his hand never stopping its motion as he shot his load all over his own chest, every muscle pulled taut.

He couldn’t help his breathless smirk as he heard Olivia reach her own pinnacle, shivering in delight as her sounds made it clear she was going for more.