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lisinfleur · 4 years

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T&T - Chapter 11: The Dance of the Tides

Author’s Notes | Everything that has a beginning has an end. Every living thing is fated to die. It’s the natural course of life. Words | 2365 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, some ANGST.

Every light comes from the darkness and without its counterpart, the light would be unable to exist. This was a lesson Ivar had to learn the worst ways possible: from the darkness of his father's death came the light of his dawn as a leader; from the darkness of his worst mistakes, came the knowledge that made him stronger.

From the darkness of Brynjar's end would come the light of his rebirth...

Yet, that was a moment he tried to postpone as much as he could. However, despite all the efforts Atli and the healers of the kingdom placed in keeping the king's life, it seems his heart was only waiting for the serenity of a good heir to succeed his crown so he could finally rest.

The old king's health declined quickly. Iliana was heavy-pregnant yet when the king asked his men of trust to be called and Ivar knew it was time to say goodbye to another of his greatest friends in this lifetime.

One by one, the men closest to the king were called near his bed, receiving gifts of gold from their king and his last words of gratitude and blessings. Not a single one of them left the room without paying their respect to the man their king was seeing as a foster son, someone they knew would be their king from now on.

"Hail King Ivar," something Ivar listened to dozens of times that night.

The last ones to come inside were Atli, Iliana, and Ivar himself.

There was sadness in Atli's eyes: Brynjar had been his king throughout his whole life and he was a boy when his father took him to attend to Brynjar's father's burial. Now, he spent the whole day preparing what Brynjar himself had ordered for his own. It was easier to understand the tears he saw in his father's face when the time came to bury his king. Now it was Atli's time to pass through the same.

"You did nothing wrong, my friend," Brynjar's hoarse voice sounded serene as his eyes landed over Atli.

His words closing even more the young man's throat.

"I could have done better," Atli said, causing the old king to giggle in his bed.

"Boy... What can we do against fate?" Brynjar said, silencing Atli who knew the answer to that question. "When the time comes and the gods call, there is nothing a simple mortal can do against it. The thread ends for each and every one of us. Death comes for each one of us. Everything that lives is fated to die and the time came for me such as it will come for you all one day. Mourn me not, Atli, my friend. For I had a good life, I made my name great, and after my departure, my fame shall speak about me. And if the gods decide I have a place among the Einherjar for the battles I fought in my life, then may my voice speak about your name, my dear friend. And if the golden doors remain closed after my departure, then, may your voices speak about my name someday."

Atli bowed in respect and Brynjar's eyes turned towards Iliana and Ivar. The old man smiled. Brimir, son of his blood, shamed his name and stained his legacy. But Ivar somehow got a place in the old man's heart and there he was: the son Brynjar asked so bad the gods to give him, the good wife he asked Brimir could someday find... The grandson he wouldn't know, unfortunately.

"My wife named my son," he mumbled when Ivar came to sit by his side, holding the old king's hand. "I wasn't here when Brimir was brought into this world: the war claimed my attention the same way it did through a huge time of his life. But I wouldn't name him Brimir... You said you wanted to name your son after me, as a way to bond our lineages..." Brynjar said, trying to clear his throat, make his low voice more audible.

And Ivar nodded along with Iliana who was fighting her tears back into her eyes. The old man was weaker. She knew the time was coming.

"Name him Vali," Brynjar mumbled, smiling. "I know it's a boy. I can feel it when I look at your queen, boy."

"Powerful and strong," Ivar said, recognizing the meaning of that name and smiling back at the old king.

"It was the name I wanted for my son. Then may it be the name of my grandson to come... For you, Ivar, you were the son I asked the gods to have. You became the son of my heart. Take my blessings, my lands, my legacy, boy. And use it to recover what is rightfully yours."

"I will," Ivar mumbled.

Few words in his mouth since his blues were teary. Brynjar was pretty much a friend, but he also figured as a father for Ivar and it was the third time he was saying goodbye to a father figure like that.

First, Ragnar, his blood.

Then, Floki, his teacher.

Now, Brynjar, his friend and hope.

The old man's fingers pressed Ivar's hand in a weak grip Ivar answered with a stronger one. And Brynjar smiled, looking at the younger man in front of him.

"Pour some mead for me. Feast and drink in my honor. But do not mourn me tomorrow, Ivar, my son, my friend. Cause my legacy is safe and I'm happy to leave it in your good hands. I did everything I wanted in this life, I lived everything I wanted to live and built everything I wanted to build. Now, I wanna rest. Now, it's your turn, Ivar. Make your father proud. Both of them."

Ivar nodded, feeling the grip of Brynjar's hand relaxing slowly.

Brynjar took a deep breath, smiling at Ivar one last time.

"Ah, son... There is nothing better than lay your head on your pillows and carry no regret when you close your eyes."

One last sigh and the eyelids of the old king closed itself to never be opened once again. Brynjar relaxed completely and Ivar felt the weight of losing his father one more time clenching the heart inside his chest - the old man was dead, but there was a smile in his face.

Not like Ragnar, Brynjar went to his grave without regrets or resentment, with the tranquil expression of a man who did everything in his life and was certain his legacy was well cared for.

The sea of those lands saw a flaming boat one more time that night and once again as a king, Ivar sat on the throne that was once occupied by his friend and now, belonged to him.

Iliana by his side in the second throne Brynjar had ordered the blacksmiths not long ago. Their hands holding one another, their thoughts far away in time as the feast in Brynjar's honor was being celebrated like the deceased king had desired.

The hall remained opened for a whole moon. Earls from all the earldoms came to reinforce their oaths of loyalty to the crown now in Ivar's head, all of them invited to stay for Ivar wanted to speak to them at the end of that period.

It just served to have the house full when the first sounds of Iliana's labor could be heard from the Hall of the Thrones.

Unlike the few women Ivar had ever heard, Iliana wasn't screaming. Instead, she grunted and growled in such a strong voice that it could be heard outside the king's room through the hall where the Earls were all reunited around the table, waiting for the news about the new heir to be born. Inside the room, Ivar was drinking with Atli by his side - anxiety and fear in the king's trembling hands holding his cup Atli was preventing him from filling too many times.

"Calm down, my friend. Everything happening here is normal, the midwives here are the most competent of our kingdom. Your child and wife are in good hands," Atli tried to calm his friend down.

But Ivar couldn't stop looking at the bed where Iliana was once again curling herself against the rounded belly in another grunt that sent cold shivers down the king's spine.

"What if my child is like me, Atli?" Ivar poured his fear looking into his friend's eyes. "Everybody said mother yelled in pain when she was giving birth to me! They said it took hours from her! Almost a whole day! What if..."

"'What if' is too much of a vague thing to put your thoughts into, my friend. All women yell in pain when bringing life into this world. This is part of their burden such as protecting them is part of ours. Nothing is out of the normal so far, but tell me, my friend, didn't you live your life? Aren't you a man like me, like all the others? Even better, sometimes? Stronger, good-minded... If it is the gods' will that your child will be like you then may it be strong and wise as you are. May it be intelligent and astute like its father! Stop thinking bad things, my friend... Look," Atli pointed as the midwife positioned in the middle of Iliana's legs. "Your child is coming into this world," he mumbled in Ivar's ears, over his shoulder, as the young king was looking at the bed where his wife was making the hugest efforts to put his child out of her belly. "Bless it, Ivar. This is your work in this scene: your child will come to your hands after nine moons into your wife's belly. Don't you want to receive it with clean hands and blessings?"

Ivar's mind was clouded. Iliana's pain was too much for him but at the same time, there was the midwife, announcing his child was already coming.

"I can see the head, my queen, be strong now!"

"It came right," Atli said, bringing some tranquility into Ivar's heart. "The child turned properly. It will be quick now."

"Oh, gods!" Iliana moaned.

And so, Ivar saw when she almost sat at the bed, looking at him. Her face was changed into such a fierce expression, her eyes full of strength when she tensed her body completely, grunting between her teeth as everything on her was focused on a single task.

He could remember himself. His growls in battle, the tension of his muscles, the strength, the pain. That was Iliana's battle. She wasn't a warrior like him but her heart was full of fire like his own and for a moment, Ivar lost himself looking into her eyes, seeing once again all the reasons why he fell in love for that woman so deeply.

Atli's pat in his shoulder woke him up from the trance his thoughts threw him into. His friend was smiling; a strong cry invaded Ivar’s ear.

"It's here, my friend," Atli said, smiling.

And Ivar saw when Iliana fell back on the bed, panting in relief. The midwife coming closer to deliver her the child she brought against her chest, ignoring it was covered in blood and screaming, still connected to her by the umbilical cord the midwife held, calling the king.

"Come, my king. Your son awaits," she said, smiling.

Atli pushed Ivar's back a little, stimulating his friend to move towards his family.

"Go, Ivar. You must separate him from his mother and chant his first blessings."

Ivar was almost slowed, stunned by the sight of a dream happening in front of his eyes. The midwives finished cleaning Iliana, covering her, and Ivar came closer as the others slowly went away, giving him and his new family some space. He took the cord in his hand, feeling as it was yet throbbing with life. His eyes looked at the perfect child slowly ceasing its cry over Iliana's chest as she opened her dress, allowing the newborn to suckle from her breasts full of milk. The cry ceased completely and for a long moment, Ivar observed that scene in front of his eyes.

How many times did he dream about that moment? How many nightmares he had, thinking it would never come?

Iliana's warm hand touched his face, showing his senses it wasn't a dream. She was real, their child - healthy and big - was also no dream. It was happening.

They were waiting for him.

A single tear rolled down Ivar's cheek as he forced the teeth against each other, biting and parting the cord, rolling the remaining to rest over his son's belly. A beautiful boy, big, even burly! Ivar's fingers touched the child slowly, feeling its face, its arm, sliding through its body, touching its perfect legs. Ivar giggled when the boy kicked reflexively, probably feeling tickles from his touch on the sole of his small foot.

Another tear came, stubbornly wetting his face.

Iliana, on the other hand, had her tears rolling freely over her smile.

"Our beautiful Vali is here," she said, remembering the name they had agreed to give their child.

"My child," he mumbled, looking at her. "Our child," Ivar corrected. "My most beautiful dream made flesh and bones. I couldn't be more grateful. I think there is nothing in this world I wanted more than this moment."

Iliana smiled, gently caressing Ivar's nape before he leaned his face to touch her forehead with his, kissing her mouth tenderly.

"You made me complete. You brought my dearest dreams into this world."

"There are many more to come, my love," she smiled.

More children, more dreams, Ivar smiled back.

And after chanting his blessings to his son's ears, he took his time, lying beside them, petting his family as if there weren't more than ten earls outside waiting for his news and words.

The whole world could wait. Ivar had fought his whole life for that moment and nothing would take it from him.

Even because, soon, he would have to leave them both: a new fight was coming.

And this time, Iliana wouldn't be able to be there with him...

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

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Start of Time: 3/?

In this chapter, Emma (going by Wendy) meets another character in a surprising way. I really hope Emma’s amnesia and her going by “Wendy” isn’t too confusing. I keep writing “Emma” by accident, then having to change it!

Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook on her birthday.

Rating: T

Words: About 2,000 in this chapter

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Come tomorrow I’ll be in the ocean, I’ll be rising with the morning tide

Wendy awoke the next morning when the sun was just beginning to tinge the edges of the darkness. She felt warm and comfortable in her bed, her bumps and bruises slight aches now instead of sharp pains. Even her headache had finally subsided. She lay there in Alice’s narrow twin bed, however, staring at the ceiling. It was painted a dark blue, and glow in the dark stickers of planets and stars dotted its surface. She squinted as she studied them. She didn’t know her constellations very well, but even she could identify the big dipper. Whoever had decorated the ceiling, it wasn’t Alice. Her father perhaps?

She ran her fingers through her still damp hair. She probably shouldn’t have gone to bed with it still wet, but the shower had sapped her energy, and she had been unable to resist the call of the soft pillow and mattress. It had felt absolutely luxurious to slip beneath the sheets clean and fresh. Wendy continued to stare at the simulated night sky above her, trying to remember something other than this house and endless snow, but it was useless.

Wendy knew she wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep, so she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She gathered the fleece lined leggings and the purple sweater one of the kids had dropped off in her room the night before. At least, she assumed it was one of the kids, judging how they had been tossed haphazardly on the bed while she was in the shower. Wendy slipped into them, the sharp scent of cedar filling her nostrils. These had obviously been in storage for a while. Had they belonged to the children’s mother? Where was she?

Since her hair was a tangled mess of wild curls from sleeping on it wet, Wendy grabbed a hair elastic from one of the drawers in the bathroom. It was small, and clearly belonged to Alice, so it would only go around her hair twice. Wendy twisted her hair in a messy bun instead, and it held. It would have to do.

She slipped into a pair of thick socks that had also been left for her, then padded softly out of her room, down the hall, and down the stairs. The house was quiet except for the hum of the central heating. It looked like she was the only one up. She crossed the living room and sat down at a desk that sat against the far wall. A laptop sat on its surface. Killian said it was the kids’, and that they were only allowed to use it here in the living room (to which Henry had groused which defeats the purpose of having a laptop). He also said Wendy was welcome to it as soon as the wifi was back on. The laptop’s password and the wifi password were both scrawled on a sticky note affixed to the screen with the message “In case you need it - Killian.” She smiled as she peeled it off.

As she booted up the laptop, she thought about the man himself. He seemed like a wonderful father, even in the short time Wendy had observed him. He was affectionate with the children, and he spoke to them with respect and seemed to value their opinions, yet he was also clearly protective as evidenced by his rules with the laptop. Not that she was judging him for that - the internet could be a scary place, especially for kids. She typed in the password and leaned back in her chair. Alice also had a menagerie of pets, and both children were obviously well read. Wendy smiled. Yes, they clearly had a good father.

Wendy clicked on the wifi and entered the password, but frowned when the words “no connection” blinked on the screen. She let out a breath of frustration as she closed out of the computer and rose from the desk. She paused in front of the fireplace, staring into the cold hearth as she chewed on her lower lip. She had calmed her fears last night by telling herself she could search the internet for missing persons in Maine. Now what?

She knew what Killian and Mary Margaret would both say - “be patient, the snow will get cleared soon.” It was easy for them to say, though! She wondered how Mary Margaret could be so calm being snowed in away from her husband and young son. Of course, she’d called them on her cell multiple times, and Mary Margaret had explained that she could get back to the farm on her snowmobile long before the roads cleared up. Killian said the sheriff and the doctor could get out here the same way. How far north was she? Even though she couldn’t remember her life, she got the distinct impression that she wasn’t a small town girl. Remote cabins, horse farms, and snowmobiles all felt foreign to her.

Of course, that wasn’t saying much. A lot felt foreign right now.

Wendy let out a sigh and headed for the kitchen. If she couldn’t search for her identity, she had to occupy herself some other way. Killian had cooked three amazing meals yesterday, and she felt maybe she could return the favor. She did remember one thing about herself - she couldn’t cook anything but breakfast. She didn’t know her real name, but she knew she could make some awesome pancakes. Bizarre.

She opened the pantry and smiled to find a box of pancake mix. (Hey, she never said her awesome pancakes were homemade.) She set the box next to the stove, then went to pull milk and eggs out of the fridge. It took her a few tries to find the right cabinet, but eventually she located the frying pan and bent down to pull it out.

“Who the bloody hell are you?”

Wendy screamed and dropped the frying pan when she saw a strange man in the middle of the Jones family kitchen. The sound of metal hitting the tile floor was painfully loud in the still house. Above her, she heard feet pound and a door slam. The man before her was tall and broad, with curly, light brown hair. His arms were crossed over his chest as he glared at her.

“Who the hell are you?” she yelled back, coming to her senses enough to snatch up the frying pan and hold it up like a weapon.

“Me? You’re the one standing in the middle of my brother’s kitchen wearing his dead wife’s clothes.”

“Liam!” Killian’s sharp voice came from over Wendy’s shoulder.

She relaxed slightly and lowered the frying pan. “Brother?”

“Aye, brother,” the man - Liam, apparently - moved his hands to his hips, his scowl just as intense despite Killian’s sudden presence. “I live in the apartment over the barn. Where the hell did you come from?”

“Liam, for the love of God, would you stop yelling at her? How’d you get over here anyway?”

“The snow’s melted just enough for me to shovel out a little. Then I walked over here on my snowshoes. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, little brother, who is this woman?”

“Younger brother, and Henry and I came across her on our way home when the storm hit. She’d been in an accident -”

“She is standing right here and can speak for herself!” Wendy snapped.

“Okay,” said Liam smugly, “fill me in. What happened? Who are you?”

“Don’t grill her like that!”

“I’m asking her a simple question!”

“Stop!” Wendy shouted, dropping the frying pan again and pressing her hands to her head. Her headache was back, and it felt as if it were splitting her skull in two. She couldn’t keep back a groan of pain.

“Wendy!” Killian cried as he rushed to her side. “Is it your head?”

“Uh huh,” she bit out. She couldn’t even open her eyes. The lights in the kitchen were too bright. Killian put his arm around her and made to help her out of the room. When she stumbled, he scooped her up into his arms. It was only then she realized he was shirtless. His skin was warm, and when she rested her hand on his chest she found it covered in thick, soft hair. Her temple rested against a strong collar bone, and the arm around her waist flexed with muscle. If not for the splitting pain in her head, it would have been . . . nice.

Okay, nice was an understatement, but she was currently trying not to puke all over the man. She could daydream about his strong arms, solid chest, and masculine scent later.

He deposited her gently onto Alice’s bed, then went to fetch her a cool rag. She murmured her thanks when he pressed it to her throbbing temple.

“I’m so sorry about my brother,” he apologized. “He can be a bit overprotective, even more so since my Milah passed.”

“Was she your wife?” she managed to choke out.

“Aye.”

“So I am wearing her clothes.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Stress can aggravate your head injury. Just rest, okay?”

“I was trying . . . “

“Shhh,” he admonished gently, brushing her hair back. It had somehow fallen out of Alice’s hair elastic.

“I was trying,” she continued stubbornly, “to make pancakes. For you. All of you.”

Her eyes were still shut tight, but she felt him take her hand and squeeze it. “That was a lovely thought.” He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “But let us take care of you. We don’t mind. I promise.”

Something about his voice was soothing, and Wendy felt sleep pulling her under.

**********************************************

Killian stopped in his bedroom to grab a tshirt, and chuckled to find Alice flung across his bed, still fast asleep despite all the noise downstairs. He hadn’t heard Henry stirring either when he’d fetched the cloth for Wendy, so he hurried downstairs to confront his brother before the children woke. He knew this wasn’t going to be pretty.

When he saw his brother still standing in his kitchen, his hand in a box of Cap’ n Crunch, his anger returned in full force.

“What is your bloody problem!” Killian roared, bending to pick up the frying pan.

Liam’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “I think the proper question is what the bloody hell are you thinking?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You brought home a strange woman? With your kids here?”

“She was wandering around without a proper coat with a gash on her head! What was I supposed to do? Leave her out there to freeze to death?”

“So you thought dressing her up in Milah’s clothes and giving her free range of the house was a good idea? What will the kids think?”

Killian rolled his eyes. “They think exactly the same thing I do - that she’s in trouble and we’re helping her. And as for Milah’s clothes, they were the only women’s things I had. They’re not doing anyone any good sitting in a chest in the back of the closet.”

“Do you even know anything about here?”

“No, actually,” Killian mumbled running a hand through his hair. “She has amnesia.”

“Oh, that’s convenient.”

“It’s true!”

“You need to call the cops!”

“Of course I’ve done that,” Killian snapped. God, sometimes Liam acted like he was still a boy. “They’re just as paralyzed by the storm as everyone else. Graham said he’d get out here to talk to her as soon as a snowmobile could make it through. Vincent will do the same and check her injuries. In the meantime, we’re just trying to make her as comfortable as we can.”

Liam deflated somewhat and tossed another handful of cereal into his mouth. “Well, I guess all that makes sense,” he conceded after chewing and swallowing.

“I don’t need your approval,” Killian ground out.

Liam sighed and set the cereal box down on the counter. “I’m sorry if I freaked out. I just worry about you, that’s all. I’ll never forget the shell of a person you were after you lost Milah.”

“You never approved of her.”

“I didn’t approve of how it began, but once you adopted the kids . . . “ Liam shook his head. “She loved you, that was always clear, and I never would have wished cancer on her. Surely you know that.”

Killian ran a hand wearily over his face. They had talked this subject to death, and he was sick of it. “Look, can we just leave Milah out of this?”

“Okay, but be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Liam tilted his head. “The way you carried her up the stairs? I’ve seen that look on your face before.”

“I just met her!”

Liam stepped closer and put a hand gently on Killian’s shoulder. “You’ve been alone for a long time. So like I said, be careful.”

Henry burst into the room then, excited to see his uncle and pestering Killian about possibly going outside. Killian was glad for the reprieve as he turned to the stove to get breakfast started. Liam was off the mark on everything, clearly.

I’ve seen that look on your face before.

Killian massaged his brow and suppressed a groan. Yes, his brother was clearly off the mark.

#cs ff #cs modern au #snowed in trope #memory loss #daddy killian #alice #knightrook #past positive millian #henry is killian's son

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raspberryparker · 5 years

Text

chocolate orange | four

Peter Parker x Fem!Omega!Reader — A/B/O Verse AU

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word count: 4,714 decided to split it up so ur getting 6 parts now summary: peter tries to come to terms with his presentation... alone. y/n can’t stand the thought of being alone. warnings: see masterlist heat/rut and how shitty it is. m*sturbation. phone s*x. praise kink. breeding kink. don’t look at me.

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All Peter could hear was the beating of his own heart as his blood pounded through his veins. Each heavy thump rang in his ears, preceded by the one before and followed by another, the sounds echoing through his skull.

“No, he didn’t—no listen to me, I-I don’t know what to do, I’m by myself…”

May’s voice was distant, a ringing in his ears blocking out the sound. It was muffled, as if he was hearing her speak from underwater. The lethargy that clung to him, the heaviness that felt like lead ran through his veins in the place of blood made him feel like he was sinking in that water, drowning in his own sweat. She was… talking to someone. Who?

It didn’t matter, anyway.

It didn’t matter to Peter because the only thing he was worried about was how hard he was, how hard he’d been all day, the arousal under his skin practically making him vibrate against the mattress that felt way too uncomfortable to be lying on. The cotton sheets felt like burlap, scratchy and coarse.

“...You’re not listening to me, he doesn’t have anyone else—”

He brought his hands up, looking at the sweaty palms. But as he did, the pale blue sheets of his bed did as well, adhered to his fingers. He shook his hands out but they wouldn’t budge.

Peter’s arms fell heavily against the bed, another peak in the tide of arousal washing over him. He looked down at himself, noticing the sheets sticking to his feet and legs as well, but more importantly taking note of his ever hardening cock, exposed as he tried to kick the blankets away with futile attempts.

The head of his cock tingled unbearably; it was hot and swollen, a drop of precum forming at the tip. Peter brought a hand up, still sticky from both his sweat and his abilities, and curled it around himself. He bit his lip, suppressing a whine as he squeezed on it so tightly his knuckles turned a pale yellow, sliding in and out of his grip.

“I’m worried about him. He called an Omega over, for Christ's sake… No, he didn’t tell her! He didn’t know! I didn’t know!”

His arms felt limp, as if they weren’t even attached to his torso, but with every ounce of strength he had, he continued to tug on his length, his movements sloppy, wet, and desperate. He tried to breathe out, let himself relax enough so his body would stop sticking to everything around him, but the exhalation quivered around a gasp. He moaned softly and bit down hard on his tongue, making sure May couldn’t hear him. He tasted pennies as the warmth bloomed from underneath his teeth. He’d definitely feel that later. Again he tried to relax, but to no avail. Peter hadn’t lost control of his abilities in four years, not since he’d first acquired them. But it felt like he was a kid again, trying to re-learn basic motor functions and failing miserably while also being insufferably horny.

He needed to cum. He needed it so badly because if he didn’t he was worried he was going to catch on fire. His skin burned and the sheets felt like sandpaper underneath him, and his other hand was fisting the fabric so tightly he worried he’d rip it.

When he came, he didn’t feel any different.

He didn’t feel better, didn’t feel satisfied. But his mind cleared for a moment, enough for him to finally be able to shake himself free of the fabric clinging to him, enough to realize just how much cum was cooling on his stomach and thighs. How much he stained the sheets. Now that he wasn’t using his abilities, they were sticking to him for a different reason.

May was barking into the receiver when his mind finally cleared enough to take in his surroundings. The sun was setting, the winter bringing an early twilight as the rain froze into snow outside. But despite the cold that blanketed New York, Peter was hot enough that if he could, he’d gladly crawl out of his skin.

“No, Stark, I need you to listen to me!”

May was yelling. Her words were muffled through the walls but he could hear her with astounding clarity, his already heightened senses going into overdrive. Each of her footfalls as she paced through the living room, the sighs she let out through her nose, the click of her teeth as she clenched her jaw; he heard it all as if the sounds were being blasted by a megaphone next to his ear.

“He chose you, Stark!” she was saying. “You’re the Alpha in his life, he doesn’t have anyone else, and he needs you to help him! I… I need you to help him. I don’t know what to do, I’m not cut out for this.”

Peter heard himself groan before he even realized he’d made a sound. He heard May stop pacing and he almost called out for her to help him, but what would he ask her to do? Bring some snow in from the street and smother him in it, try to alleviate the burning of his skin? There wasn’t much his aunt could do. He knew what he needed, who he needed, and she’d been sent away.

The growl tore from his throat as he remembered that afternoon, the overwhelming longing making his want to claw his eyes out. He grew hard again, miraculously quickly, his body getting ready to bury himself into his Omega at merely the thought of her. Without thinking, he rolled over onto his stomach, the sheets over the mattress scratching at his skin as he did, and began grinding his hips into the bed. The wetness of his own cum felt cold against his skin, almost uncomfortably so, but he was so hot that it didn’t even matter. He’d given up on wearing clothing, knowing it’d drive him insane sooner than later. So there he was, lying naked and tangled in his sheets, pathetically humping into his mattress like a horny pubescent child.

That’s what he felt like, at least.

When he woke up that morning, he was sweating. There was an itch under his skin, a buzzing static that would not go away despite his attempts to alleviate it. His vision blurred as he looked at himself in the mirror, his toothbrush frozen in his mouth, and he tried not to keel over from the way his head grew light. And the shower, oh no, when he showered the temperature of the water was comparable to that of arctic seas, and yet (though this may have been a hallucination because he wouldn’t put it past himself) it seemed that the drops would evaporate the second they landed on his skin.

May found him doubled over in his bedroom, his jeans pulled halfway up his legs, interrupted as he was getting dressed, whimpering with his cheek pressed to the carpet as he grew more and more incapable of basic movement. She had been frightened, worried he’d hurt himself or something of the like, but the moment she stepped into his room and caught a whiff of his rut scent, she coughed and sputtered from the sheer force of it.

She called into work, letting them know she had to say home. My son just presented, she said. I need to make sure he’s alright. Can’t leave him home alone.

Peter was too distracted by the realization that he was indeed presenting to notice that May had called him her son. And he was too preoccupied with how increasingly hard he was growing by the second, how aroused he was, to be pleased that it finally happened.

He’d spent the day jerking off, groaning, and thinking of only one person.

Peter didn’t remember texting or calling Y/N, the day blurring together in one giant mass of arousal, desperation and warmth, but never before had he experienced the kind of mental clarity that he did when he caught her scent.

He’d have given anything to have her, to hold her in his arms, to pound her into the mattress underneath him until she was crying for his knot. It frightened him how desperately he needed her, and he almost cried when she refused to allow him to open the door.

He was glad he’d had the mind to listen to her.

“Thank you. Yeah, he’s calmed down, but I don’t know how long it’ll last… Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

He heard the click of the phone as May put the receiver back into its dock. He heard her approach his door, raise her fist and hesitate before finally knocking softly against the wood.

“Peter?” she asked. Her voice was unsteady, frightened and unsure. “Can I open the door? I won’t come in but I wanna give you something.”

He grunted in response, making a half-hearted attempt to pull his sheets up so May wouldn’t have to be faced with his bare ass. Turning his head to face the door, he watched as his aunt pushed the door open slightly, her nose scrunched against the smell.

“Tony’s coming to get you,” she told him, her voice nasally as she raised her hand to pinch her nostrils. “He can help you. He’s got some special room or whatever, I don’t know he didn’t tell me a lot but… yeah. That okay?”

Peter nodded weakly, turning back to press his nose into the pillow and keep from groaning out loud. He bit the cushiony fabric, his tongue wetting the cover.

“Oh, and,” May said. “Thought this might help. Y/N left her jacket.”

At the sound of her name, Peter felt his body tense, turning back to the door just in time to see the soft winter coat as May threw it into the room. He caught it easily, raising one hand and closing his fist around the fabric.

May shut the door quietly behind her.

Bringing the jacket up to his nose, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he inhaled deeply.

It was like he was drowning in her.

His mind was racing, every fibre of his being screaming at him to find his mate and rut into her like he’d die if he didn’t. The scent invaded every single one of his senses. He smelled the tang of lemon peel and tasted the sugar of clementine juice. There was the undertone of something like orange liqueur, a heaviness he realized with a grin was her heat scent, and he groaned against the jacket. He was grateful he wasn’t so far gone as to shove it into his mouth. He at least had some semblance of decency remaining.

He turned around once again, leaning his back against the wall, his head just missing the bottom of the top bunk as he pushed himself to sit up.

Peter felt like an addict, clutching his drug of choice to his nose as he huffed heavily, his hand curling around his throbbing cock. His arousal hadn’t let up in the slightest all day, and he was still as hard as he had been that morning. He was heavy in his own hand, the base of his dick already swelling as the beginnings of his knot started to form. It wouldn’t fully form until it was clutched tightly inside an Omega, but the confirmation in his own hand, the heat of it as he pumped himself faster and breathed his Omega’s scent in, making him high and lightheaded in the most delicious way, was comfort enough.

He was an Alpha.

He swallowed the saliva down as he began to drool onto the fabric of Y/N’s jacket, muffling his moans as he panted against it.

He felt like he was going to burst wide open, all the pent up emotion from the day coming through as his hips bucked up into his fist, as if searching for something in the air. His toes curled, every muscle in his body tensing as he drew himself closer and closer to where he needed to be.

Peter was certain that May could hear his lewd groans and pants but he didn’t care anymore.

He was full of the scent of home. Of summer. Of Y/N.

Of mate.

He bit the collar of the jacket roughly, where her scent gland had rubbed against it and where her presence against the fabric was the strongest, imagining it was her neck as he came. Peter longed to bury his teeth into her skin, feel the burst of her warm blood against his tongue as the mating mark took hold on her. He imagined what she’d sound like as he did, how she’d cry out or mewl or whimper as she trembled under his mouth. He grunted. His cock spurted one-liners of cum all over the bottom of the jacket. The Alpha in him, the new one that had only made its presence known that morning, hummed in satisfaction. The jacket belonged to his Omega, and he’d marked it with his seed, and as primal and gross as that thought was, he couldn’t help the smile the crossed his lips. He let out a breath, allowing his eyes to close gently as his mind cleared for a moment. He felt… satiated. Though he knew it to only be temporary.

And then, because the universe was just so cruel to him, he remembered the events that unfolded that afternoon.

He’d asked Y/N to come over, worried her beyond belief, and then shocked her with his presentation. He’d triggered her heat early, practically throwing himself at her and begging to let him fuck her. He’d made her cry. He’d hurt her.

Peter’s eyes shot open as the thought echoed through his mind.

He’d hurt his Omega.

He didn’t even care to take notice of the ache as he let his head fall back against the wall with a thud, a pained sound leaving his lips. Whatever chance he’d had with her, if any at all, had been ruined all because of his own stupidity.

He could only hope she didn’t hate him too much.

━━━━━━━━

Empty.

That’s all she felt. Unbearably empty.

“...Alpha…”

Was that her voice? Evidently it was, because she’d moved her lips, the cracking and chapped skin making her cringe as it touched. Her vocal chords hummed softly as the word croaked from her throat. Her mouth was dry. She felt like she was suffocating.

It was dark in her room. She wasn’t sure what time it was, but she knew the sun had gone down and she knew that she’d been lying on the floor all day.

She almost laughed at herself.

But Y/N didn’t have the strength to, so the only sound that left her lips was a high-pitched whine.

She’d been lying on the floor, naked and sweating, because even the thought of having anything touch her skin made her want to rip her hair out. Her body was lying in a strange pool of sweat, tears and slick, the combination of fluid making her skin stick uncomfortably to the hardwood floor. Her mother had moved her rug at her request, and she glanced over at it now, the soft material bunched against the wall under her open window. Her bed was beside her, her makeshift nest waiting for her, but she didn’t have neither the will nor the strength to push herself to her feet.

“Alpha, please…”

How pathetic.

Her mother could probably hear her too, and the thought made her want to crawl inside herself and hide away for the rest of eternity, but at the same time it was just too much.

She was so empty. But not physically, of course. The second she’d arrived home and her mother had settled her into her room, laying her carefully on the ground and making sure she had enough water to get her through the night, she’d stuffed herself full with the fake knot she kept in the bottom drawer of her dresser underneath her socks. It’d been so easy. It slid home, stretching her deliciously, but it was so cold and hard and nothing like she needed though it’d have to do. She was so wet already, the slick her body produced dripping down her thighs and making them slide against each other as she clenched around the silicone, trying desperately to relieve the heat that consumed her. But it was incomparable to the real thing, and her body knew it.

Whatever relief she could manage to bring herself as she squirmed around in the mess of her own fluids, tilting her hips whichever way she could and squeezing her thighs together in an attempt to get the replacement for what her body really needed to press against her insides just right, was far from enough.

Her sweaty palm would come up to her breast, rubbing the mound almost painfully before pinching her nipple in a forlorn attempt to bring herself some relief. The other hand would reach for her neck, pressing her nails into the swell of her scent gland just at the junction where her neck and shoulder met, trying to replicate the feeling of teeth. She was sure she drew blood but she didn’t care, furiously scratching at her skin and digging her nails into her neck. It never compared to a mating bite, but the pressure alone was enough to relieve her if even just a little bit.

Each orgasm was less effective than the last.

Every time she came, she’d cry out, a guttural scream tearing from her throat before the groans would settle into sobs. Pressing her cheek against the cold wood of the floor underneath her, her face would contort as the pain racked her body and she cried, a hollow ache in her lower abdomen that begged to be filled.

Begged for an Alpha.

“Peter, please!”

She was screaming now. Y/N couldn’t hear anything but the gross wet sounds of her body slipping on the floor, the squelch of the fake knot as she tried to press it impossibly farther inside herself by arching her back and pressing her hips into the floor, and the pounding of her heart as the blood screamed through her veins.

It had never been this bad before. Never hurt this much. The aches and pain were normal for heats but she’d never experienced them like this. Some part of her told her it was because she’d been so close to a rutting Alpha, in such close proximity that his pheromones managed to affect her, and now that they were apart, her body was punishing her for it. It might have been what happened. It seemed logical enough to her.

But her mind was racing far too much for anything to be logical.

“I—I can’t—!”

Another shriek of pain.

Another pang of arousal.

This was the worst heat she’d experienced since she presented. And she’d do anything it took to relieve the pain.

Anything?

Yeah, she thought. Anything.

It took far too much effort to flip herself onto her stomach. And when she did, the way her nipples tugged painfully against the cold floor made her cry out. She pushed herself up with her arms, crawling like a child along the ground until she reached her night table, where her mother had carefully placed her phone. Her head was against the ground as her arm stretched up, feeling around blindly until her fingers closed around the cold metal of her phone.

Collapsing back to the ground on her back, she held her phone up in front of her face, squinting against the bright light. Her hand trembled as she scrolled through her contacts.

She found the one she was looking for, pressing it with a shaking finger before holding her phone against her ear.

The ringing of the line reverberated through her skull.

“Hey—”

“Peter!” she cried. “Peter, please I—”

“—you’ve reached Peter Parker’s cellphone. Uh, leave me a message and I’ll call you back when I can? Is that okay, I don’t kn—”

The beep of the voicemail recorder cut his voice off, and Y/N almost threw her phone across the room in frustration.

She tried again.

Nothing.

She tried three more times, and each time he didn’t answer, her cries grew louder. The tears were hot as they slid from the corner of her eyes to the floor. More fluid to add to the mess that she’d already made.

It wasn’t until the fifth time she dialed his number that he picked up.

“Y/N…”

At the sound of his voice, she let out a stuttering sob. “P-Peter.”

“Shit.” He sounded out of breath as he spoke. She could almost feel him panting against her ear through the phone. Though his voice was distorted, she could picture him there with her. “You okay? You don’t sound—”

“Alpha,” she whined. Peter growled on the other end and she let out a pained moan. “It hurts so bad, Alpha. I-I need…”

“Omega,” he snarled. She could see his lips curling back in her mind’s eye to display his teeth, and she longed for them to be pressed against her neck.

“Help me.”

She was crying. Bringing up her free hand to wipe the snot away from under nose, she mumbled incoherently as she pushed her heels up against the base of the silicone knot, her legs butterflying out along the floor as her knees bent, pushing the dildo up so the swell of the knot along the base of it pressed against her walls as hard as it could. Biting her knuckles, she tried to hold in her groans of pain as they mingled with whimpers of pleasure.

“What are you doing, Omega?” Peter’s voice was rough, gravelly and harsh. “Are you touching yourself? Tell me you are, need to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” The word wasn’t anything more than a breath, but she knew Peter heard it because of the rumbling purr that sounded through the phone. “But… it’s not enough.”

It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until she had him.

“I know, little Omega, I know,” he said in a pained voice. “You don’t know how—how bad I wanna be there with you. Wanna smell you, taste you, wanna lick your thighs clean of all that pretty slick.”

Y/N let out a strangled moan, her gyrating hips making the silicone press against the parts of her where she needed it the most.

“Alpha… it hurts…”

“Bet you look so beautiful all wet and spread for me,” he sighed. “You gonna take my knot like a good girl?”

“Yes!”

At the thought of his knot, she gave a shriek. Her voice was still coarse, grinding with want and lust as she pictured him there with her.

“I’ll be so good for you, Alpha,” she whined. “So good, please…”

“Wanna fill you up.” The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against slick skin came through the phone. She imagined the bright red head of his cock as he fucked his own fist, and that itself lead her to let out an incoherent sound as another wave of pleasure swept over her, tangling with the pain. “You sound so sweet for me, princess. Makes me wanna stuff you with my cum.”

“Please, that’s all I want,” she panted. “Peter, I can’t—”

“You can,” he assured her. There was a little more authority in his voice now. He sounded more in control. Y/N had no doubt it was the Alpha in him coming through. “You can because you’re so good for me, baby, taking my cock like that.”

“So… so big.”

And then suddenly she wasn’t full of silicone, she was full of Peter, his thick knot pressing against that spot inside her that made her limbs tremble with pleasure. She felt him above her, pressing into her, could smell the sweet chocolate that filled her senses as he talked her to the edge.

“Gonna fill you,” he began, a sharp groan cutting off his words. “Fill you with my pups.”

“Alpha!”

“You like that?”

“Yes!”

“Of course you do,” he purred. “Of course because you’re so perfect for me, ‘Mega. My perfect girl. Gonna mate you the second I get the chance, gonna watch you grow round with my pups.”

She was so close, almost there, and she could tell Peter was too. His soft grunts through the phone, his rumbling growls as he tugged himself closer and closer to his climax. The thought of Peter filling her with his cum, breeding her like her body told her she wanted to be, was enough to bring her over the edge.

“Alpha, gonna cum,” she whispered. The tears were already drying on her cheeks.

“Come on, Omega,” he groans. “Cum all over your Alpha’s cock.”

The screams were quieter this time, less like screeches and more like crying groans. Her body convulsed along the hardwood, chest pushing up into the air as her back arched and her mouth fell open. The cold air around her made her stiffened nipples hurt, and she brought a hand up to rub at them as she rode out her orgasm.

Peter’s shout in her ear let her know he’d cum as well.

The quiet that followed was stifling. The only sounds were her own breathing and Peter’s panting in her ear.

“Y/N…”

He sounded… upset. It made her heart tug as he sighed through the phone.

“Peter,” she replied. “Thank you.”

“Don’t—” He cut himself off, and there was the sound of skin rubbing against skin, as if he’d run a hand over his face in frustration. “Don’t thank me. This is my fault and I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “‘M already better.”

And she was.

She’d stopped crying, the aching emptiness in her abdomen momentarily sated. She was still sweating, her arm slipping softly along the mess of fluid on the floor as she reached down to pull the fake knot out of her entrance. She winced as she did, giving a sharp sigh as it bounced onto the floor between her legs, the slick it had plugged up finally spilling onto her thighs. She grimaced at the feeling.

“I shouldn’t have—” he said, before a pained whimper cut him off. Y/N was afraid he’d start crying. “I shouldn’t have texted you. I triggered your heat and now you’re suffering because of me and I—”

“Peter.”

She was falling asleep, her voice a soft breath. Peter immediately stopped talking, as if worried he wouldn’t hear what she said.

“We can talk about that later,” she said. “Just… just talk to me. I wanna hear your voice.”

“O-okay.”

He sighed into her ear and she smiled softly.

“I don’t even know what to talk about,” he said. The quiet laugh that followed made the smile on Y/N’s face grow.

“Anything,” she told him. “Anything’s good.”

“Uh, well,” Peter began. “I don’t… I don’t even know where I am.”

When she didn’t reply, he took it as a sign it was working.

“Mr. Stark came to get me, brought me to the tower. But there’s no windows and it’s dark in here and… I don’t know what floor I’m on. There’s this big lock on the door so I can’t really get out. But I guess it nice enough. Kind of wish I was in my room but I feel like I’d have destroyed it by now.”

He laughed again, and Y/N let her eyes flutter closed.

“The bed’s pretty comfy, though. Just wish you were here with me. Then I’d be okay.”

Her breathing had gotten softer. Steadier.

“Y/N?”

No response.

“You fell asleep on me,” Peter laughed. “That’s okay. You need to sleep. I guess I gotta sleep too.”

He knew he was talking to himself, but he didn’t care. He pulled the phone away from his ear, about to hang up, but he hesitated. Y/N’s breathing was slow and steady. He smiled.

“Good night,” he whispered.

And before he could convince himself not to, he added, “I love you.”

The dial tone never sounded so haunting.

━━━━━━━━

A/N: this is basically some filth to keep u all at bay while i finish this. i keep adding part to this dshgjLHGlhglG. i swear it wont be longer than 6 though. place your bets now on how long that promise lasts.

read it on ao3 add yourself to my taglist! like my work? check out my commissions!

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utanoprinces · 6 years

Text

Dragon Route: Camus

hi hi~ hope you enjoy :) let me know what you think! Set after Ranmaru’s route. Same details as before: italicized sections are player’s actions and there is some hinted spiciness but that’s all.

Tale of: the Princess and Crystal Dragon

It has been several days since your best friend, the Squire, was taken as your duplicate by the dragons that held your kingdom hostage. Several days that you have wept, kept hidden in your chambers so as not to alert any spies of the truth: that you, the princess, still remain in the kingdom. Your father the king, thought it was a clever enough trick. He thought the dragons were archaic beasts, barely able to discern the difference between humans, and that you could be kept safe for the price of a lowly squire. However, just this morning, the court was once again prevailed upon by the quartet of scandalously-attired men in a haze of magic and smoke. The Garnet Dragon made clear that he was well aware of the ruse and that it was only his pleasure with the duplicate that kept them from razing the crown city. The Crystal Dragon continued in a voice deep enough to tremble the tableware (or so the maids have told you) that they would be making another deal. The crown city for the princess--the real one. Same rules as last time. You are to be delivered in bridal garments, alone, to the highest balcony at sunset.

For the past several hours, you have been preened and prodded by your handmaids to the fullest form of your beauty. You are dressed as a bride, layered over with embroidered fabrics and shimmering chains of gold discs and topped off with a veil. It is twenty minutes till sunset. What will you do? > If any makeup was on my face it was ruined by tears... also puffy red eyes from days of crying. Holding a pillow close for comfort but just nerves overwhelming. "Maybe they'll just forget and not come. They're beasts after all." I felt sick and scared for my life and began tearing up again after my eyes dried after being no longer to cry anymore. It was so easy to be dehydrated. "B-but what am I saying..." My eyes began to splash over. "They stole my friend.... and ate her and now I'm next...." I kneeled down and began praying for my life and soul for whatever happened next for the kingdom and even my enemies to not meet this fate.

There's a knock at your door before it swings open, revealing a pair of maids. As the older maid sees you, her face contorts in a mix of fear and anger. She marches over to you and helps you up. "All our hard work! And you cried it all off! Do you have any awareness for the situation you're in right now?" She snaps her fingers at the other maid and, together, they drag you over to your vanity, darting your tears away with their aprons and rushing through a quick patch-job on your makeup. However, it isn't long before there's another knock at the door. It opens. A guard, looking uncomfortably stiff, is on the other side. "Is the princess ready?" The older maid looks at you then back at the guard. You get the sense that--despite her sharpness with you--she's actually terrified for your fate. However, she is as helpless as the rest of the kingdom, so she simply steps away from you and nods. The guard bows then gestures for you to follow him. What will you do?

> I know these guards; they're not bad people. They're scared just as I am. I'm doing it for them... for all of them. For the relationships they hold precious. Yet I'm still scared... my heart not giving me rest. I'll cry again surely if I don't grab something to suppress it. So I went over to my bed and grabbed my favorite pillow... holding it over my heart... and followed the guard accordingly. "Let's go..." I said quietly to the guard, trying not to cry by hugging my fears away into the pillow.

They lead you up the tower stairs to the highest balcony in the castle. They continue escorting you to the outer edge. It overlooks the crown city and fades into the distant mountains. Then, they release you, each bowing and offering a terse, respectful farewell. Finally, they head inside and close the door, leaving you alone in the setting sun. A few minutes pass and you hear a sound like water drops on crystal. Turning, you find a cloud of jewel-toned, sweet-smelling smoke dissipating behind you, slowly revealing a group of men whom you have only heard rumors of until now. A brunet with angled black horns wearing a sheer dress and a meager black wrap around his waist. A dragon who seems to be dressed in the tide itself with a dreamy stare that fills you with a bittersweet emotion. A tall, bristling man with a crown of ebony horns… and a regal blonde with twisting horns that seem to refract the full spectrum of color when the sun hits them just right. He glares at you with icy blue eyes, taking in your form with an expert eye. The dragon with the dreamy eyes glances at you, then at the blond. "We should remove the veil and check it is really her this time." "Whatever we do," the many-horned dragon growls, "be quick. I want to be back to see my bride before bed." The brunet giggles impishly, behind a hand covered in black and emerald rings. "Oh, Ran-Ran…. Don't you mean you want to see her in your bed?" "Shut up you fools," the blond speaks in a commanding voice. "I'll do it myself." He takes a step towards you. What will you do?

> Take a step backward near the railing. It was unexpected. It was scary. I hugged the pillow in my arms tighter. My eyes glanced over at the ledge, debating if death by my hand was more honorable than this fate... but my heart begged for life. I said nothing. but look in terror at my captors.

Ignoring your cowering, the blond corners you easily, almost as if he hasn't really thought of it that way at all. He lifts a hand--your eyes notice his aurora-hued claws and the softness of the fur on his sleeve cuffs--and delicately pushes aside your veil, revealing your tear-stained face. His face is unreadable aside from the barest widening of his eyes. He stares at you, unmoving, for so long that the others shift uncomfortably. "Myu-chan?" The brunet calls. "Well? Is it her?" He stares into your eyes with such a heavy demeanor that your knees feel weak. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. "What was the description given by that garnet monstrosity's bride, again?" The many-horned dragon snaps his teeth, spewing pink-tinged sparks. "Say that again?" "Not now, Ranmaru," the water-clothed dragon says. "Shorter than the Squire by around four or five inches, dark hair and eyes, sand-colored skin and"--he blinks at you dully--"a crybaby." The blond nods, allowing the veil to fall over your face again. He turns around. "It's her." "What are we waiting for then?" Ranmaru rolls his shoulders and smoke billows around him as he begins transforming. "Let's get out of here." The blond walks away from you, following suit with the others as they transform into their massive dragon forms, lifting off the balcony as each of them change. You watch the smoke clear away, revealing the crystal-horned dragon's true self. He is massive and sturdy, with a boxy jaw and slanted blue eyes. His entire body is covered in the brightest white you've ever seen and reflects a similar rainbow hue as his horns and claws, almost as if he's covered in aurora lacquer. A mane of bluish-white fur covers the back of his head, trailing down his spine to the end of his tail, which ends in a tassel. His wings spread, darkening the sky, and he turns to you, easily scooping you into his front paws. You're shrouded in darkness and warmth...and then he takes to the skies. Loading. . . . You don't know how much time has passed when you feel a dropping sensation; the dragon is descending. Soon, there are several echoing thuds outside his claws and the wind whistling around you becomes warmer. You are set gently on the ground, then his claws recede. Your eyes adjust so you can look around you. You are standing on a massive plateau carved into the side of a mountain. Behind you, the twisting gnarled towers of what looks to be some sort of haphazard castle rise up, up so high you can barely see the tops. Behind you is a yawning cave entrance of blue stone. Deep in the shadowed recesses, you see something... glittering. Around you, amidst many boulders and some sparse shrubs, smoke is clearing. The sun is setting, glinting off that magic smoke as it pours away to reveal the four dragon men who have taken you.

The blond shakes out his hair, sending silky, coiled locks out in a rippling motion. He runs his claws through them, bringing them into place. The sunset glints off his icy blue eyes and halos his twisted horns, causing them to erupt in gorgeous rainbow hues you've only heard legends of gracing the skies in the north. He may just be the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Yaaaa~" The green-clad dragon stretches lazily, extending a strange-looking tinted tongue and curling it like a cat in his yawn. "That took forever!" He pouts. "I'm totally beat." "That's because you're getting old," the silver-haired dragon growls. The green one pouts more. "Hey! You know we don't age right now, Ran-Ran!" The silver-haired man rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I'm gonna go find her." What do you want to do?

> After a lot of time scratching the insides of these claws to no avail, dropping was very scary, very different from ascending. Enough to the point that screaming felt like the best thing. Crying came with it for fear of death. Expecting to be slammed into the floor to my inevitable bloody doom… but it never came. Instead, I was set down just fine... despite the feeling of the floor moving because of shaky legs... Looking out, it was beautiful... but... also... emotional... this wasn't the home I knew... the tears slipping out of my eyes in sorrow. He was beautiful... but how could something so beautiful be so cruel and horrible as the people say. I wanted to run away. Jump off the building to escape.. but I heard my friend’s name. "DON'T HURT HER!" I yelled at him. "You're probably hunting her for sport! until she gets tired and withers and when you're bored of her you're going to eat her… AND THEN ME! ...but you can't hurt anyone else." My voice wavered. "I WON'T LET YOU. " I fought hard. "I won't get tired of this game and you won't hurt anyone else of my kingdom.” Even though I was scared, with my hands balled up into fists. "I'll FIGHT FOR MY SQUIRE AND MY PEOPLE!" I said such things bravely... but the tears wouldn't stop flowing.

The dragons all freeze, each turning to look at you as you weep your declaration. Then, the green dragon laughs behind a hand again. "Oh! Myu-chan you're so lucky~ She's cute, she's cute, being brave for her people." He looks at you, taupe eyes glinting with devilish glee. "She thinks we're going to eat her. Ne, Ran-Ran?" He looks at the silver-haired dragon, who glares back at him. "What?" "Why don't you explain to her what exactly it is you plan to do with your cute bride? Because," he winks, "you don't really plan on eating her, do you?" Ranmaru splutters, turning red. "Watch your mouth, Reiji." The dragon clothed in water sighs. "Don't you think it would be wise to explain everything to her properly instead of continuing the misunderstanding?" His voice is calm but there is a distinct note of impatience in it. He turns to the blond. "Camus. As she is yours, shouldn't you be the one explaining things?" At last, you have a name: 'Camus'. He suddenly looks at you, face shifting into something more gentle and enticing. He places a hand on his chest and bows. "I'm terribly sorry for frightening you, Princess. We would have introduced ourselves sooner, except that cotton-headed fool over there was impatient to return for... unseemly reasons." Said cotton-head rolls his eyes. "Here we go." Camus continues, "As I'm sure you've guessed, my name is Camus. I am a Crystal Dragon who is now at your service. My unsightly companions are the Emerald Dragon, Reiji, the Pearl Dragon, Ai, and... that ruffian... Ranmaru. Now, to assuage your fears: I believe you have been misinformed as to the nature of our dealings with humans. Please, if you have any questions, you may ask them of me." What do you want to do?

> The green one laughing at my statement and calling me cute made my outer courage shrivel and the shyness came out once more. Guarding myself, stepping back away from the group, one hand curling up in the pillow. and one hand holding up the dress from the floor in a fist. "Y-You... you're... perverse types then...!" My face was red and disgusted. Feeling uncomfortable in my skin... I would rather be hunted than... than... I shook off the thoughts. I wanted to yell I belong to myself. but held my tongue to save myself.

I stared at 'Camus'. I was surprised by his human-like, polite demeanor but I was still on edge. It might be a lie… but it's convincing. I said nothing as the water dragon said that I was his... which means I have to air on the side of caution. This perso--this beast would be my captor. My mind couldn't help but see the human features…. My eyes drew to the people who he was mentioning... but I had no interest in learning their names... after all they were monsters. But the most important question was clarity. "Where is my friend? Can you take me to her? Is she still alive?"

Camus' brow twitches, nearly imperceptible. As he's about to open his mouth to reply, you hear a familiar voice call out from the yawning cavern on the other side of the landing area. "Ranni! Ranni is that you?!" Ranmaru's head moves in the direction of the cave, ears twitching slightly. He groans as he moves in the direction of the voice. "Oi! How many times do I have to tell you not to leave the castle when we're not here? You want the Fae to take you? Idiot." Then, you see her. Your Squire, dressed in a soft-looking, simple tunic and trousers, charges out of the cave at top speed, a sword strapped to her hip. She jumps into Ranmaru's arms and he swings her around, a puff of cranberry-colored mist rising from his mouth in a small cloud around them. Reiji pretends to cry and wipe his eyes. "Ran-Ran is so lucky~" He winks at Camus. "Let's hope you have as much luck, eh, Myu-chan?" Subtly, Camus glances at you sidelong, pale eyes glimmering aurora. "Yes," he says. "Let us hope for that." What do you want to do?

> I whisper my friend’s name, knowing her voice from anywhere. I saw her tackle the weird spiky looking dragon man. I approach with caution and yet also fearless. I call her name loudly, trying to get her attention but the cranberry mist felt weird and sticky. I look over to the aurora colored Camus. "Has he bewitched her?" This was really giving me odd feelings about this group. I really did want to know what was going on... "What did he do to her?" I asked him mostly unnerved that she didn't notice me but... I wasn't trying to show it.

As you near the cloud of mist, you sense a prickling energy. It's not quite a scent, not quite a feeling. More like a strong memory of... flowers...? Something vaguely sweet. You speak up a bit and she immediately pulls out of Ranmaru's grip, wiggling until he sets her down on the ground. Her eyes light up when she sees you and you can tell--she's healthy, happy, and utterly vibrant. "Princess!" She shoves Ranmaru aside (he grumbles) and throws her arms around you. "They really brought you back! I can't believe it!" "Hmph," Camus grouses as he walks over. "You have that little faith in us, human?" He crosses his arms. You feel something moving your skirt. Looking down, you see his tail has curled around you, still not touching you, but hovering around your legs possessively. The Squire releases you and sticks her tongue out at him. "Well, you were fooled by me, weren't you?" "Tch!" Ranmaru ruffles her hair from behind. "We hadn't left the castle in fifty years. Cut us some slack." She laughs and leans back against him, cheeks rosy. "Okay, grandpa." Ranmaru flushes, "Y... you!" You hear Ai speak up vaguely. "I will take my leave. See you at dinner." You glance over in time to see him shimmer and disappear. Reiji catches your eye and waggles his fingers before blowing you a winking kiss. Similar to Ai, he draws a star shape in the air and vanishes. What do you want to do?

> I couldn't help but be happy that my friend noticed me. I gave her a hug before quickly observing her carefully, checking her arms and looking under her hair at her neck, feeling behind her ears, looking into her eyes for a quick second and other quirky things to see if she was okay. "You're okay! you're not hurt! You're not scratched or bruised or anything. I missed you so much! You were gone for days. I don't understand; how are you not hurt? You look like you've eaten! You're not starving! and why did you hug that scary guy? I missed you so very much. I thought you were dead. I thought I was going to die! I was in colorful claws and it was so scary. I'm in a dress. Everyone told me you were as good as gone." I spewed out fifteen billion quick questions and sentences without time for answers, just kind of releasing the stress of days with grief only to see her okay in the end. I looked down at my dress and when she released me, I instinctively grabbed her back like the dead just came back to life. "You're alive!” This fact made me ease up greatly and let many fears dissolve away even if I was still... scared and nervous from flying jitters. Looking over at the magical disappearing men... they were there and gone in the flashiest of ways.

The Squire laughs at your rapid-fire questions and grabs your hands. "Princess, calm down. I'm totally fine. As for why I hugged Ranni..." She looks over her shoulder at Ranmaru, who is still a bit red-faced and looking away bashfully. She looks back at you and smiles sheepishly. "It... turns out that dragons aren't really as bad as what everyone was saying. They're actually..." She blushes and looks down. "They're actually pretty great." Seeing Ranmaru bristle, she laughs and turns around to snake her arms around his waist. "Well, some of them at any rate." Do you want to say anything?

> I had to stop and think for a while before looking at the dragon man... then glancing over at the pretty colorful one named Camus. I had to pause. "...So they're like people, all different." Stating the obvious. What I knew was from rumors... but even then, I never judged humans by rumors, always by the interactions I had with them on my own time. I felt a little bad now. I didn't know how to feel about her relationship with her dragon quite yet. Not quite remembering I have a tail around my legs, I kinda stepped back a bit to give them a bit of distance. Forgetting the presence of the tail, you step back--and trip over it. You brace for the impact of falling, but instead, you are gracefully swept into a pair of velvet-clad arms. In your scramble to find your balance, you place your hands onto the nearest surface--a rather sturdy, very bare and warm chest. You look up to see Camus gazing down at you with his intense, heavy-lidded eyes. His pale skin has the faintest flush to it. He opens his mouth to speak and a puff of powder-blue mist pours out of it. It washes over you, feeling cool and crisp. All at once, your nerves light up like snowflakes are landing on your bare skin. You think of the clean, bright taste of glacial water, the sweet bite of ice on your tongue. You feel energized and thirsty and needy all at once. "Forgive me," he murmurs lowly. "I did not mean to cause you to fall. Or to...." His eyelids flutter and he straightens up quickly, setting you straight on your feet and then waving away the cloud of mist. You feel your mind become a bit clearer as it dissipates. He steps a polite distance from you, dragging his tail to the far side of his legs and crossing his arms once more. The Squire giggles, drawing your attention back to her presence once more. "Ooh, looks like you guys have good chemistry…." Ranmaru wraps his arms around her and pulls her close to him, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Speaking of..." You can't catch the rest, but she flushes deeply. "I, uh...I...." She stammers. Ranmaru smirks and blows a cloud of red mist into her face and her eyes go glassy. "I... oh... Um. Yeah, okay." She turns back to you, looking hazy. "Camus will take good care of you, Princess, so don't worry and just listen to what he says. I'll see you in a few hours." Almost before she finishes speaking, Ranmaru grabs her hand and snaps his fingers, and they both disappear. You are alone with Camus. What do you want to do?

> It didn't help that the wedding dress I had on made it so I couldn't catch myself without stepping on fabric. Dropping the pillow I had in my hand and colliding with what felt like a very supportive strong wall… it was actually just Camus. "I-I'm so sorry... I..." I gazed up at his intense gaze, not angry but more... filled with an unspeakable emotion. My tongue feels twisted after breathing in the mist, like I couldn't form proper sentences. In the castle I am not allowed to have close contact with any men. It's 'improper'. "Is ‘kay,” I said, thinking I got a proper sentence out but covered my mouth real quick and the mist faded. "I mean… it's okay." That felt... weird... and my tummy still feels ticklish. My inner thoughts were of 'he has nice clothes...'

"What did you say?!" I said in a scolding tone, hearing the Squire tease me. I watched the situation unfold and felt like I was interrupting something. I put my hand on my arm... "Wait!" I said stepping forward and watching her and him disappear. I kinda gazed at the empty space before looking at Camus for a while... like a lost puppy. "Um... if you're like normal people.... why did you have to kidnap us in the first place? Or why did you choose ... the princess to take away?" Not exactly putting two and two together that despite being ‘like’ normal, they're not… and rumors can cause death.

"Oh wait... I never actually introduced myself properly...." It felt socially awkward, this complete jump in steps. I curtsied first then held out my hand to shake his hand. I felt the need to... touch him after that mist.

Strangely, it appears as if his demeanor has changed. His eyes are cold and withdrawn. They flick down to look at your hand and then up at your face. He leans down to gather your pillow and hold it out to you. "Your cushion, my lady." He waits for you to take it, then cocks his head, looking at you intently. "I'm certain you are tired and would like to rest a bit before dinner. Please," he offers his hand almost reluctantly, not making eye contact. "Allow me to escort you to your room." Will you take his hand?

> I slowly let down my hand, understanding that he didn't need to take it. After all, just a few minutes before I’d talked like they were monsters and beasts... and even still I'm still cautious but ouch. Everyone ignoring me on the first attempt/sight does have a bit of sting to it. An open book shows their emotions on their sleeves. Even when you try your best to roll them up to hide them. "Oh I didn't notice... thank you." I hold my pillow like it was a hug but he held his hand out. I ... was tired from all the crying, he was right. I felt like an offense. I slowly grabbed his hand. In my mind, I thought that I missed my friend... but she said I'll be okay.

As you take his hand, he lifts his other into view. He's holding a ball of ice, shifting with many colors. He blows on it and it turns bright white and then--your vision lights up like the sun. You blink and you're standing in a vast, circular room with a low ceiling. Everything is a soft white, lit by warm, golden, sunny tones almost as if the stone itself were glowing from within. There are beautifully carved windows around the outside, displaying the sunset, and framed by sheer white curtains. There is a moderately sized bed on one side of the room, canopied by blue gauze dotted over with silver and gold beads to resemble the night sky and a nightstand on either side of the bed with small oil lamps. A hair grooming set rests on one. Looking around the room, there is a desk, several floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a small sitting area with comfortable looking chairs and a pile of colorful, jewel-toned cushions. You also notice a discreet door leading to what you assume is a washroom. Upon closer inspection, the ceiling appears to be a glow-in-the-dark celestial map. As soon as you've gotten your bearings, Camus moves away from you again. He gestures around the room. "Please consider these chambers yours entirely and inform me if there is anything you require," he says flatly. "Rest for a few hours. I will come for you when it is time for dinner." He lifts the colored ball once again and blows on it... and vanishes. What will you do?

> Gazing around the room, I really liked it. It was so dreamy. It felt like what I wanted my room at home to feel like... "This room is ... amazing." I complimented before he left, but when I was left alone, I felt... on the strange side. Sure I met up with my friend and we're safe... and they're not killing us but... also they're leaving me alone just like that? "Oh... okay..." I said meekly. I wondered how he got the ceiling to glow and I wonder if it would be distracting at night? Because I'm already distracted. I lay down on the bed which... smelled like sugar and sweet scents. It made me want cake... I couldn't help running my eyes over the ceiling... dozing off a bit too...

You hear the tinkling glass sound of Camus' appearance just as you're waking up. Sure enough, as you blearily glance around the room, he materializes a few feet from the bed. His eyes rove over your body, then he lifts the colored ball and runs his finger over its surface. It lights up purple and you're briefly blinded by a prismatic shimmer below your eyes. When your vision clears, you are wearing a dark blue gown, much more simple than your bridal clothing but still elegant. "Human," he murmurs, offering you his hand. What will you do?

> Everything seemed comfy, although waking up and seeing a dragon man and new surroundings that you're not used to still gave off the nervous sensation in my tummy… not that he would notice it. Not exactly liking sudden bright lights without me adjusting, I closed my eyes. It was a little weird to be undressed and dressed this way, especially when it was a man doing it. Even if others were undressing me it was always women. The dress I was put in had a nice, silky feeling. I almost wondered out loud where my wedding dress went mostly because it was pretty. When he just referred to me as ‘human’ it upset me just a little. I told him I had a name, sitting up and grabbing his hand to help set my feet on the floor. I stared at him a little blankly. He gently guides you to your feet and the blows on the ice ball. It glows orange and light begins to overtake your vision. As the world melts away, you hear him whisper your name, almost to himself, in a voice so adoring, so tender, your heart lurches. You're now standing in a stone dining hall. Vines cover the farthest walls, filled with mahogany-colored, trumpet-shaped flowers that are dotted with bioluminescent beads. A large fire pit is in the center of the room, surrounded by long dining tables covered in pewter dishes. Against the wall is a platform that overlooks the rest, with a slightly fancier-looking table. On one end, Reiji is lounging in his seat, legs thrown over the arm and resting on the empty chair beside him. Then there is Ai, also flanked by an empty seat and looking impatient. After him, Ranmaru and the Squire are snuggled close together, deep in conversation. Camus leads you to the next two seats, allowing you to sit between him and your friend. She turns to you brightly. "Princess! What do you wanna eat?" What will you do? > I kind of gaze over at him. I don't remember telling him my full name but he knew it already. I wasn't uncomfortable more... surprised... it felt like a little bit like fluffy tension. I wondered if I was still nervous... ... Yes, that's probably what it is. Taking time to look around the room for anything scary, but there wasn't anything. I hadn't eaten all day... and gosh was it stressful. My thoughts were of something sweet.... but also something savory... cake... bread... maybe some meat. "I-I don't want to burden anyone...." I said, noticing there wasn't food around... "You guys make what you want to eat... I'll join you with cooking and help out..." I was a bit sheepish... after all the first days you never know what to expect.

"Myu-chan!" Reiji calls from the other end of the table, "How do you stand it? She's adorable!" He giggles loudly. "She thinks we cook!" "Shut up, you blustering fool," Camus growls. "Did I strike a nerve? You still being shy with princesses after all this time? Come on!" You see him plant his face in his hand and lean forward comically, winking at you and sticking his tongue out. "Don't tell me you don't want to bond with her immediately~" "Reiji," Ai snaps, "if you're not going to assist in the summoning, then silence yourself." "Mou…. You guys are no fun. Ran’s girl thinks I'm fun, though!" He blows a playful kiss at the Squire. "Don't ya, girlie?" Ranmaru huffs and sparks shoot out of his mouth, lighting up the room in a copper tone and causing the table to smoke where they land. He glares at the green dragon with fire in his eyes. "Watch it." "Okay, okay…." Reiji pouts then looks back at you. "You enjoying the room, princess? We cleaned a bit after your friend moved into Ran's room." "She's not staying in your hovel of a guest room," Camus says. "A princess deserves better, even if it was good enough for your--" "Camus!” Ai's voice rises for the first time you've heard. It echoes in the room, which is now deafeningly silent. You see Reiji smile, though his eyes are pained. "Yes," he says softly, "a princess deserves better."

"I'm summoning now," Ai huffs. "I will try to provide a decent variety for the princess." He lifts an elegant hand and pulses his fingers. You see a small shimmer around his hand and--suddenly--an enormous feast appears on the table in front of you. There are meats ranging from familiar to exotic, plates of bread in several styles, as well as a variety of vegetable dishes, desserts, and other foods. The others all thank Ai for his work, then begin reaching for food. You notice Camus is piling his own plate high with sweets of all kinds. Cake, trifles, tarts. In the end, he spoons clotted cream over the entire plate and begins to eat. What do you want to do?

>I felt embarrassed and out of the loop. "I-I...." I looked at the Squire for help but she was very cozy with her dragon? What were they exactly? I just got here and there's secret talk when I'm very out of the loop. I was very intimidated by the crimson dragon.... and couldn't exactly keep a gaze my friend when his eyes occasionally pierce me. It seemed like they were bullying Reiji…. I blinked. "Hey, now, a room is just a room. Let's not... fight." I tried to ease this sudden tension. "I'm just happy we're okay.” When food suddenly appeared I was shocked, moving the chair back by jumping a bit out of the whole suddenness of it all... "W-wow… I mean! Thank you... Ai. " It felt weird. like everything I knew about them was a lie. The tears I cried for four days dried and took a whiplash-turn to the other direction. I found myself picking a spinach leaf salad... but also grabbing some steak from the meat area... a piece of fluffy cheese bread.... and also a slice of cake.... and a chocolate looking trifle...

As you eat, you notice that silence seems to be the reigning detail, aside from the Squire’s quiet conversation with Ranmaru. You hear her mention something about an armory and practice, as well as Ranmaru offering suggestions for different types of weapons for her to try out. If you want, you could probably interrupt to speak with her. Ai seems to be in his own world, frowning as he sips something frothy and pale purple from a pretty crystal goblet. Far at the other end of the table, you see Reiji poke at some sliced apples. Without anyone's eyes on him (as far as he's aware) he seems... rather sad. Eventually, he gives up eating altogether and turns towards something that shimmers a pale green through a murky glass bottle. To your left, Camus eats in silence. What do you want to do?

> The silence from these three was uncomfortable. I wanted them to you know... cheer up? How should I put it? "So.... um.... what do... dragons actually do...? How did these human rumors get so bad if this is how you guys really are?" I nibbled on some of the sweet cake. I looked over at Camus. and then Ai and Reiji. "Are you guys brothers?" It sounded stupid because they looked nothing alike and had several different types of personalities. I did my best even though I was still awkward. I kind of kept glancing over at Camus. He was quite attractive. In fact, all of these men were in their own way.

"Peh," Ranmaru grumbles. "As if I'd be related to any of these louts." The Squire lightly smacks his arm. "Ranni! Be nice!" She leans away from him to face you. "They're not brothers, just friends." You hear Camus mutter a 'hardly' under his breath. She looks thoughtful. "I... Well, I can't answer why they're together, but mostly they just sit around enjoying life!" She gestures at Ranmaru. "Ranni collects historical weapons and legends of battles. He's been continuing my education so I can become a knight even though I don't plan to return to the city for good." Ranmaru smirks, revealing several sharp teeth jutting over his lips. He ruffles the Squire’s hair. "You got a long way to go, though, punk. Don't get complacent." She laughs and slaps his hand away. "Okay, okay! Anyway," she focuses on you again. "They're looking for brides. They... stopped looking for a long time, which is why humans started getting more and more... creative with their rumors. But it's all lies." She leans in to whisper. "These guys are a bunch of softies, really." What will you do?

> It doesn't seem like they got along well, but also here they are all together. "How... neat," I said scratching my head about this odd set of relationships. Upon hearing about the Squire’s continued studies, I was seriously impressed. "Wow! teach her properly okay! although she does get distracted!" I teased her. I blinked for a bit. "Well, who isn't looking for marriage," I spoke pretty bluntly, familiar with getting bunches of suitors in the past. "It's hard to find. Sometimes you gotta let it happen." I said staring at this unusual couple. I turned to the closest person to me, Camus who was into his sweets. I could tell he had some softness there if he enjoyed sugar rather than the carnivorous boys in front of me being Reiji and Ranmaru. I poked his arm that was closest to me. "What about you? do you do anything interesting besides decorating things amazingly?" I complimented.

Camus, feeling your poke, sets down his fork and leans back to look at you. His eyes are soft again, like they were back outside the castle before. He places a hand on his chest. "I'm honored you appreciate it, Princess. I confess: I do spend much of my time honing my skill for ice sculpture to further decorate my own quarters. Although," his cool stare becomes heated, "it has been some time since I had a model last. Should you agree… to become my bride, I hope that would let me sculpt you." As he finishes speaking, a small puff of mist escapes his lips, barely the size of your fist. Like before, you sense a delectable energy that makes you feel weak in the knees, but it fades quickly. Camus turns a bit pink when he sees it, and looks back to his plate. What will you do?

> "If you made my room that cool... then your room must be amazing." I complimented him lightly. I tilted my head as he was speaking but flushed red at this sudden proposal. The mist made me lose composure over this. I looked back at my plate equally as embarrassed as him, I attempt to pick up my fork, fail, and drop it near Camus’ chair. I get up to bend down and get it. Upon looking up from grabbing the fork I couldn't help but stare at him from the floor, one of my knees on the ground still. ‘What am I doing? Stand up and sit back down and use your other fork!' my mind screamed but I stared just a little too long... After that awkward experience... I was still curious. "So um... why did you want to take the princess of all people you could have? and why reinforce stereotypes that aren't true about your race?" "Myu-chan~"Reiji calls from the other end of the table. "You gonna answer her? She's yours, you know?" Camus shoots him a sidelong glare then looks at you, eyes growing warmer. He helps you to sit back down and then turns to face you, leaning back languid and regal, like a lion. "It is helpful for humans to not be too curious about us, lest they attempt to cross the Valley of the Fae in an attempt to observe us. Dragons are not sociable by nature, but...." His voice grows somber. "We are bound to each other by forces outside our control. As for choosing princesses..." He closes his eyes. "We deserve the best… and they are easy to find. Though," he looks at Ranmaru and Reiji, "the others are a bit less selective than I am." Do you wish to ask anything else?

> "Hm..." I thought for a bit. "But you guys thought the Squire was a princess," I said to the others but, as an aside to her: "Which you are in my eyes." I looked back to them. “It just makes me curious..." I found myself slowing down when it came to food becoming satisfied. "... What do you need me to do since... you guys want us here? I want to help the best I can.." I said gazing around my surroundings again just letting it sink in. "This place seems big..." I wanted to explore...

Your friend smiles at your sweet compliment but doesn't interrupt. Camus looks at you, more serious than you've seen yet. "Like your Squire here, who has bonded with that black-horned brute, it is my wish that you would likewise accept a bond with me and..." His eyes flutter faintly, "...become my betrothed." He gestures around the room grandly. "The castle is vast and surely fascinating for a human. Should you accept my bond this night, it will be yours to explore..." He trails off, then takes your hand and kisses it once again, giving you a look that makes your stomach twist. "...As will my heart." "Ooh~" Reiji coos playfully. "Myu is aiming to win big for once!" He fakes joyous tears. "I'm so proud of you, Myu-chan!" Camus' eyes harden and he raises his voice to speak to Reiji. "Silence. Instead of frivolously teasing us at every step, focus on your own plan. After all, your turn is coming up." Reiji's ears droop at Camus' cold tone. Camus stands. "I've had enough. I will take my leave. Princess," his voice hitches to a soft tone as he offers you his hand. "Would you care to inspect my quarters?" Will you take his hand?

> I had to be very cautious because he was a dragon. "Marriage... So soon? But what if you dislike me… the real me on the inside?" I said the same thing I did to any other suitor I had. But I realized something. "But... even so... you wouldn't... be marrying me just for the throne..." I was shocked. What I normally dealt with men wasn't the same with this one. I don't have a kingdom behind me here. It's... what I want... what I desire. I looked over at Reiji, then my friend, extremely embarrassed, before looking back at Camus. Getting more fluttery feelings. 'What is freedom..?' I thought to myself. My hand was a bit shaky and a bit reluctant... but I grabbed his hand.

He quickly produces the colored ice ball from his pocket and blows on it. It lights up a bright, ice blue and before you can even process what's happened, you find yourself in a wide-open room. The temperature is brisker than you're used to, which is the first thing you notice. Camus fiddles with the ice ball and your wardrobe shifts again to lend you a cloak of white fur, softer than anything you've ever felt. You look around. Overhead is a milky, curved ceiling which shifts between varying hues of blue and white. You realize it's meant to mimic the look of a tundra sky, bright blue with drifting white clouds. On the far side of the room is a crisp, glacial stream, surrounded by polished black stones covered in green moss. Closest to you is a bed matching the one in the room you'd been left in earlier, but far larger. One wall is a mirror, lined by intricate crystal carvings above and below. In front of it, there are numerous display columns, each showing off a different ice sculpture. Even from afar, you can tell the skill that went into them far outmatches anything you've seen at the palace. Finally, near the last wall is a massive pile of treasure. Pearls, crystals, and diamonds, as well as thousands of gold coins and beautiful jewelry. You get the sense that Camus is drawn to things that reflect rainbow hues. You feel a hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you around to face him. He looks at you intensely, with so much adoration you lose your breath. "Once a dragon has chosen to love, then there is no other recourse," he says, voice bordering on desperate. He traces your face with a soft touch. "Once bonded, I will love you no matter who you are now, or what you become. I will devote myself to your happiness utterly." He closes his eyes and bows his head. "We are living under a curse, for two hundred years now. None of us can age or truly live until we all manage to find our soulmates. I... do not do well with expressing myself so clearly." You feel his fingers tremble as they brush your cheek. "If freedom is what you want, I can give you that. I will do whatever it takes to earn your happiness if you will be mine." What will do you?

> It was cold... and beautiful. It reminded me of snow which was rare in the kingdom proper but here it was in a personal room. I was wearing another thing... soft... very soft... I couldn't help but want to look at everything. But being guided away from the room, I listened to what he said while blushing and holding my own arm again. "But what if you hate me? What about your happiness...? What about our ages? I could die before you! I'd grow old and you stay young and I wouldn't be… pretty anymore," I said throwing questions out. "What about children...? What about going to see the world?" I had a lot of questions. I was attracted to him, very much so. I didn't notice while asking questions that I took steps towards him and was centimeters away from his chest. I felt weird sensations in my stomach. I needed to know before I gave my heart away. He listens to your onslaught of questions respectfully, then takes both your hands in his large ones, lifting them between you to run his thumbs over your knuckles. He stares into your eyes. "Once bonded, I cannot hate you. The more you feel for me, the more I will be completely bound to you. Should you agree to a marriage ceremony, I will pass half of my life to you, so we may grow old together through the centuries and pass on as one. If you seek children, I will give you them. If you don't, I will hold myself back." His cheeks flush. "I will fly you to the ends of reality, both mundane and Fae alike to see your eyes sparkle if that's what you wish. My happiness?" He scoffs, then leans down to you and a great plume of mist pours from his mouth, enveloping you with a heady, tongue-numbing sensation that tingles every inch of your skin. "Bask in my happiness, human. Even being with you like this is almost more than I can bear. Your happiness is mine." The pair of you stands in silence for a few moments. You're lost in a dreamy haze from the mist, which still glitters, hanging in the air like hookah smoke. He pulls back slightly, leaning away lest his immense feelings get the better of him. "Please," he pleads with you, "say you will become my bride." What will you do?

> My face was painted red... and I could hardly breathe. "I... might not know much about men... or love... but... If ... " Words failed to come out properly. I felt drawn to him because of the sensation he made me feel... I couldn't help but step back forward to lean on his chest... "I-I.... wouldn't... mind falling in love with you... then..." the quietest peep came out to say "yes". He looks relieved and sighs softly. "Remarkable. You are truly...." He looks into your eyes with the ghost of a smile playing at his pink lips. "You are a gift, my lady. You will not regret this choice. I will initiate a bond." He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. You watch as he moves his hand in front of his chest, slowly drawing two fingers up. He slides them along his throat to his lips, then draws them out. A wisp of heavily-concentrated blue mist follows the motions of his fingers. He moves them to form a ball, then offers it to you. "If you swallow this, the bond will be complete." Will you take the mist?

> I blushed, feeling pretty emotionally drained. "It... seems strange, your customs... but...." In my mind and my heart, I knew doing this would protect my kingdom... even if I was being tricked. I would have a say and if it wasn't a lie... if this wasn't an illusion... It could be a dream come true. I attempted to take the mist with my fingers but it wasn't working so I kind of closed my eyes and tried to "nom" the ball of mist. The mist is cool and bright, like catching snowflakes on your tongue. It slips into your mouth and melts like cotton candy, shifting sweet and cold and crisp faster than you can process it. It electrifies you, making you feel overly energetic and sluggish all at once. You feel dizzy at it seeps into your body like syrup. You grow hungry and desire for something other than food. Strange feelings blossom in your heart, your mind. An anxiety that isn't yours, bashfulness, hope... and a voracious lust you've never experienced. You open your eyes drowsily to see Camus covering the lower half of his face and looking away, cheeks deeply flushed. You feel a pulse of affection for him and he closes his eyes. "Nn...n!" He stifles a cry that makes you want to hear more. He sends you a scolding look. "Quell your emotions, human. I can only do so much to... h... hold back." His voice quivers with effort. After a few moments, the feelings you're experiencing level off, but there is a new emotion, soft and supportive, that is nested in your heart and pulses occasionally. Your mind is clear but... everything around you looks a bit brighter, a bit bluer and more glimmering. You notice the cold no longer affects you as much. Do you wish to say anything?

> I blushed and still feel like I could totter over onto the floor. "...What is that mist...? It made me feel.... " I couldn't describe it well. "Strange... It feels... like whoosh... and ahh... and then it blended into something fluffy... and it tasted pretty sweet.." I described it to him just in case he didn't know what I was exactly talking about. "I kind of liked it." I gave him a small smile. what he didn't know is that my thoughts were like a train of emotions and feelings. "Do you feel warm too? Here?" I pointed at my chest. I felt like... I wanted to hug him. I felt excited. and weird. I felt natural. My hands feel restless.

Camus squeezes his eyes shut, looking adorably flustered compared to the regal man you've seen all day. "Do not. Say such things. So lightly, my beloved." He peers at you through a slivered eye, reptilian pupil trembling with emotion. "Of course I feel the bond. I am... just beneath being overcome by our shared desire...." You hear him mutter to himself. "'Sweet'? She dares to speak so loosely...." After he gathers his composure, he looks at you head-on. "The 'mist' is known as Essence. It is an innate part of dragons, a magic no other creature shares. It is a tool for communication, to share feelings between bonded pairs and to increase loyalty and...." His voice drops to a chocolatey purr, "...intimacy." He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, then opens them again. "Unfortunately, as I can now feel so... close to you... it would be best if you remained outside of my quarters as much as possible. I cannot guarantee that I will not be goaded to move with you so close to me." He turns pink again and offers you his hand. Will you take it?

> I didn't understand what I said that was wrong or, well, lewd. "Well if that's how you communicate... I like it." I didn't understand the weight of his words quite yet. "I feel close to you too! But also like…." I couldn't say ‘not close enough’. I wanted to be hugged. The feelings in my tummy were just so overwhelming. "But... I wanted to look around. Eventually, I can right?" I asked like a begging puppy wanting comfort and affection. I figured out the hand and magic teleportation thing... so I used it to my neediness. I grabbed his hand but also pulled closer to his body to give him a hug. enjoying the feeling of the clothes and the fluffy edges and his firm chest, the soft scent of cream that he ate earlier. Being close eased my jumping butterflies that were smacking against the side of my stomach, letting me relax finally. You hear a strangled sound as his muscles go taut beneath your touch. Emotions of lust and the desire to own erupt in your chest, clouding your mind and making you a bit dizzy again. "Beloved," he hisses weakly. As quick as he can, he lifts the ice ball and transports you back to your room, then steps away, straightening his clothing and doing his best to not look ruffled. The feelings in your heart calm slowly. He looks at you for a few moments, his blue eyes growing warm and soft like moonlight. "Of course you may explore as you wish, as long as you take me or your Squire with you. The castle is home to many mysteries, and I would not want you to get lost. However, the hour is late and you should get your rest." He stares at you again, face unreadable. Then, he crosses the distance to you in a swift few strides and pats your head, slowly running his fingers through your hair and down the side of your face to cup your jaw. He sighs. "You would do best to pray that Reiji and Ai are successful as swiftly as I have been with you. I am certain," he looks away, "that Ai will not struggle as much next time... but Reiji is another story." You feel a pulse of sorrow in your chest and curiosity tingles your mind. Camus shakes his head. "A tale for another time, should that fool wish to share it with you. Now... sleep, my beloved. I will collect you in the morning." What will you do?

> When he patted my head I felt happy, feeling comforted. When he talked about his friends, I, too, felt sad. Just a bit of his pain. I was still tired from the nap so I decided to head to the restroom to get ready for bed... maybe grab a book to stare at so the words can blur and sleep overtakes me. Before he disappears I tell him goodnight and sweet dreams. and not to let any nightmares bite. I debated kissing him… but I settled for a small kiss on the forehead for him.

He hums at your sweet, innocent kiss, then watches you go, placing his hand to his chest and bowing. He offers you a tender smile. "Sleep well, my bride." He lifts the ice ball and--for a moment--you think he's going to vanish in the sound of tinkling glass. However, when he blows on the ball, it turns a soft pink and the glowing stars on the ceiling begin to shift and come to life. You realize that they're following the rotation of the sky, complete with shooting stars and the faint trace of the star river in the east. He smirks at you and your awed gape. You feel a pulse of pleased cockiness. Then, he blows on the ice ball and disappears. Even as he departs, the warm sensation of the bond sits in your soul like the feeling of holding hands, of an embrace. Of a goodnight kiss. You know, deep down, that this is where fate was meant to take you.

END

#uta no prince sama #utapri #camus #dragon au #dragon!camus

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heartslogos · 6 years

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newfragile yellows [280]

Four dreams Ellana has between Sylaise and Elgar’nan, in the order she’d dreamt them.

Sweat runs down her arms, but it isn’t sweat. It’s copper, liquid and glittering leaving trails that glisten over the skin of her arms, pooling in the soft indentation of her elbow and following over veins and filling creases in her wrists and palms. Her skin is dark from the heat of fire, working all day every day when she isn’t spending time in the cool shade listening to her beloved singing. Ellana is with her beloved now, taking a cold glass of water with sprigs of mint and drops of lemon making it go down that much sweeter.

Sylaise’s eyes, in this dream, are very clear and bright. Like stars.

Ellana’s heart soars. But it is not her heart and these are not her hands because when she thinks about Sylaise this is not how she feels. And from the way Sylaise had avoided her, Ellana doesn’t think that they were ever lovers. If she and Sylaise were lovers, why did Sylaise treat her so coldly? What did Ellana do to drive them apart like that?

And Ellana’s arms do not look like this. She is a man in this dream. She is tall and broad shouldered and the sun burns the back of her-his neck as copper-sweat slides down the side of his face. Sylaise’s hand is cool as she brushes it away and Ellana catches her thin wrist and kisses the jut of her bone. Her skin tastes like pollen, like spring, like the tickle of the underside of a leaf.

Sylaise laughs and it sounds so much like rushing water.

“What have you made for me today?” Sylaise asks her.

And Ellana is suddenly and vividly aware of the weight of something in her other hand, hidden behind her back. She pulls Sylaise towards her and holds her close, feeling Sylaise’s laughter as she tries to take the thing hidden from her.

Ellana kisses Sylaise’s neck and when Sylaise pulls away, prize caught, the print of Ellana’s lips is bright, bright gold. Sylaise’s skin glitters everywhere it touched Ellana’s.

Sylaise holds up a small ring that has a small topaz on it and she slides it onto her small finger. She smiles.

“It matches your eyes,” Sylaise says, softly, fondly, warmly. Nothing like the Sylaise at the airport hanger Ellana had tried to speak to. “I love your eyes.”

Did Ellana have topaz eyes?

In the second dream she coughs, painful and cold and stinging. Everything hurts like she’s been bruised and battered all over. Her head, her hands, her thighs, her feet, her back, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her neck, even her hair feels like its been beaten. She falls forward onto her hands and the sand hurts against her palms. The ocean crashes down on her back and stings.

When she turns to go back to it, the tides push her out again, unyielding and merciless.

Ellana stands, confounded, at the shore as she stares into the ocean. And she yells, take me back.

The ocean roars back at her, you are not one of us anymore. Go to him.

Ellana already knows who the ocean means. She can feel the heat of the sun at her back even though he is leagues away wreaking his havoc.

No, Ellana says, attempting to force her way back into the water where she was free and at peace. Never.

But the ocean refuses her. The ocean denies her. And she is heartbroken with every wave that pushes her back against the shore, harder and more violent than before.

And then, softly, the receding tide’s foam and bubbles caressing her legs and ankles and toes as it retreats, someday, but not yet. Please.

And because the ocean never says please, she turns towards the pillar of light that she can feel but not see and she agrees, not yet, but someday. And there is relief on her salt-crusted shoulders.

It will end.

Nothing is ever hers alone. Ellana is standing over her twin’s bed and frowning down at him. Nothing in this world is hers. Everything is shared. Not a single thing belongs to her and her alone. It’s unfair.

Just because they are twins doesn’t mean they have to share everything. Dirthamen can have his things and she will have her own. There’s no harm in that.

Just one thing. That’s all she’s asking for. One thing that is hers and hers alone.

Ellana reaches out and with quick and clever fingers she adjusts the tilt of Dirthamen’s eyes, sliding them downwards. Just a little. Almost unnoticeable. Just enough to make them less mirror images of each other. Dirthamen was always the more morose of them anyway. She pinches the edges of his mouth and thins out his sleeping lips. There.

Now Dirthamen has his own face and she has her own.

Now they are two when they were once forced to be one.

But Dirthamen wakes up before Ellana can return back to her bed and he must see something in her face because fear crosses Dirthamen’s not-exactly-new features and he jumps out of bed, rushing to the mirror. And he screams. He wails. He starts crying and howling.

“I’m sorry,” Ellana says from behind him as Dirthamen scrubs at his eyes and sobs, “I just - I just wanted us to be different for once. Aren’t you tired of us always being fused into one person just because we’re twins?”

“It was my face too,” Dirthamen wails and Ellana can hear the others waking. “Fix it!”

“Okay, okay!” Ellana rushes over to him, “Stop crying, I can fix it. I can fix it. I’m sorry - I just - I’m sorry!”

And Ellana does fix it. It’s like looking into a mirror, even as unhappiness settles in her stomach. She hates to make Dirthamen upset. But also -

Just once. Just once couldn’t she have something for her own?

This is her own house. This is where she lives. This is where she comes back to after work. This is who she comes back to after work, even though they work together and carpool and all of that stuff. It’s the setting that changes the mood, kind of.

Ellana is lying in bed, tucked into the curve of a much larger body. She can feel his slow breathing, his chest flush against her back, one of his large thighs nudged between her own. She can feel the exhale of his breath against her hair and Ellana nuzzles her face into her pillow.

A name on her lips that can’t quite form.

A finger taps against hers and Ellana’s eyes open, clearing a little as she looks up.

There is a tall, thin boy standing over her. She can see him in the light from outside the window. His face is long and a little sad, his hair hangs in his face. The color of it reminds her of dried grass. Or pale, pale straw. Cotton.

“I had a bad dream,” Cole says. His name is Cole. She knows this without question. Ellana raises the blankets without comment and he climbs in slowly, jerkily, unsure. She pulls him close and the heavy arm slung over her waist stretches out to encompass Cole too. The man behind her continues to sleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ellana asks, still mostly asleep.

“I dreamed that he came back,” Cole whispers. “And he took you away.”

“Not if I take him away first,” Ellana whispers back as she falls asleep. “I’ll always come back. And I’ll kill anyone who tries to stop me from coming back to you.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

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hutchhitched · 6 years

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The Vintage Joshifer Series: End of Love—Chapter 17

End of Love by hutchhitched

Author’s note: Hello, all! We’re so close to the end, and it’s heating up between Josh and Jen, as well as spiraling out of control. My parents were in college when the events in this chapter occurred, and their dismay at the events was similar to those of the characters in this story.

Historical events in this chapter include the following:

Robert (Bobby) Kennedy, JFK’s younger brother and U.S. Attorney General, was assassinated in Los Angeles, California, on June 6, 1968, at the Ambassador Hotel on the night of the California Democratic Primary. Sirhan Sirhan, a Palestinian nationalist, shot Bobby as revenge for American actions and inaction in the Middle East following the Six Day War. Because he’d won the California primary, many political pundits believed he would have been the Democratic nominee for president and won the election. When he was killed, the Democratic Party failed to nominate a viable candidate, allowing the Republican Party to win the presidency in 1968 and rollback many gains made since 1961.

The EEOC, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, was founded in 1963 by JFK as a result of complaints of sexual harassment and discrimination of women in the workplace. It is also mentioned in Chapter 13.

WMAQ Channel 5 is the local NBC affiliate in Chicago. It assumed its call letters in 1964.

Chicago, Illinois, June 1968

Josh woke to Jen’s mouth moving down his torso. Something had happened since their frantic coupling the day King was assassinated, and Jen had become much more aggressive with him in bed.

“Good morning,” he mumbled sleepily, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she sucked him into her mouth and bit gently until he yelped at the sensation of her teeth scraping the skin of his morning wood. He cursed, but he couldn’t help but admit it felt amazing. He gripped her hair in his fists and groaned encouragement.

Jen sucked harder and jerked her hand up and down his shaft as her lips and tongue ran over his head and around his girth. Josh arched his back and pressed into the pillow as his hips bucked upward.

“I’m gonna blow, Jen. Fuck, yes,” he moaned as thick ropes of fluid spurted over his abdomen. Jen watched, a satisfied smirk on her lips, as he stopped shaking from his release.

“Good morning. I’m going to take a bath. You’ll have to wait to clean up until I’m done. It should be nice and dry by then.” She winked at him and slipped from her bedroom, her waist long blonde waves brushing just above the curve of her firm ass.

He heard the water running in the bathtub and imagined Jen slipping into the warm wetness. He thought about her long legs covered in soap and her tits just breaking the surface of the water as she shampooed her hair. He was pondering how her fingers would fan over her flat abdomen when he was jarred from his reverie by the ring of the telephone.

“Josh, can you grab that? It’s early, so it’s probably my mom.”

“Sure, hon. I’ll just mosey into your kitchen with dried cum all over my stomach,” he teased and slipped a pair of boxers and a white undershirt on before hurrying to the other room and ripping the phone from the base.

“Lawrence residence. Josh speaking,” he answered and was shocked to hear his mother on the other end of the line. She was sobbing into the phone, and her words slurred into a garbled mess. It took several minutes before he could calm her enough to understand what she was trying to tell him.

“He’s dead, Josh! He’s gone,” his frantic mother wept into the receiver, and Josh’s heart clutched.

“Who? Is Dad okay? Is it Connor? Mom, tell me!” he begged with his heart in his throat.

“Bobby. Bobby’s dead.”

Josh’s knees folded, and he sank to the floor. The phone hung loosely and worthless from the wall as the world whirled around him. He blinked a few times as his vision darkened until he could hardly see. He slumped sideways and closed his eyes as he concentrated on breathing in and out through his nose.

“Josh?” Jen called, but he didn’t have the energy to answer. “Josh! Oh my god! What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“He’s gone,” Josh whispered, too in shock to say anything else.

“What?” she asked as her eyes tore over him. “Who’s gone? Is it Jackson? Talk to me, Josh!”

The room spun around him, and Jen’s face blurred into a murky smudge of color. A rushing sound filled his ears, and his vision darkened. He’d said and heard those words too many times in the past few years. He didn’t want to face anymore loss. It was too much. Too much for him to handle. He wasn’t that strong.

“Josh!” Jennifer screamed as he closed his eyes and slipped into darkness.

****

Jennifer howled and pulled Josh to her. His chest rose and fell gently, and his face settled into a relaxed, peaceful expression. She rocked him back and forth as she cried, but she was frozen to the floor. She couldn’t think of anything but keeping him in her arms, safe and protected from whatever he’d heard on the phone.

It seemed like hours before he stirred, but it was likely only a few minutes. His hazel eyes blinked open, and she gasped at the pain she saw there.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she begged as she stroked his dark hair back from his forehead. He squeezed his eyes closed and swallowed hard. She could hear the phone beeping as it swung from the wall, but she didn’t care. He was more important than any call from her mother.

“It was my mom,” he gasped and struggled to sit up. He choked and heaved for several moments before he blathered. “Bobby Kennedy was assassinated last night.”

Laughter burst from her before she could stop it. What he’d said was too preposterous for her to fathom. That wasn’t possible. They’d stayed up late to watch the election returns on the news the night before, and Kennedy had narrowly won the California primary. Josh celebrated the news, convinced that the victory meant the former Attorney General would be the next Democratic candidate for President in November’s election, since Johnson had declared he wouldn’t run for re-election.

“No, he wasn’t,” she guffawed, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. “I would have gotten called in if… Shit. I’m on vacation. Why am I on vacation?”

“I keep thinking things can’t get any worse,” he mumbled, “but then they do. I don’t think things are going to get better, Jen. I think worse is coming, and no one’s there to stem the tide anymore. Bobby’s gone. King’s gone. I— It’s just hopeless.”

“It’s not hopeless,” she insisted. “Not when people like you are out there fighting.”

“But I’m not out there fighting, am I, Jen?” he retorted. “I’m playing house with you in Chicago while Jackson’s slogging through the jungle and Andre’s in New York working.”

“I’m not asking you not to fight.”

“No, you just asked me not to leave.”

She shook her head so hard the towel she’d wrapped around her hair came loose and wet curls tumbled onto her shoulders to soak the top of her thin summer robe. “That’s not fair! I asked you not to go, but I’m not holding you hostage. I can’t stop you now any more than I could two years ago when you graduated. That’s why I left that night at Berkeley. I knew I couldn’t win. I knew I wouldn’t be first. If you’d stayed, you’d resent me, and I think what you’re trying to accomplish is too important to want you to stop.”

Scared and vulnerable, she pulled her robe closed over her chest. No matter what she said, she wanted her words to carry more meaning than her naked breasts.

“Choosing my work doesn’t mean I didn’t choose you.”

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered and rose. Trembling, she squared her shoulders and walked back to her bedroom. Closing the door, she sat on the bed and studied her hands. She knew she was in shock, but she didn’t seem to be able to snap out of it. News of the former president’s brother’s death hurt as much as learning her own grandfather had passed last year. What was different was the political implications of losing the candidate best suited to beating the Republicans and continuing to work for change for minorities and the poor.

She knew all of those worries were at the root of Josh’s tears and anger. They were at hers too, but so were her own personal fears that she’d lose him again. She loved him, and she didn’t want to live without him.

Unfortunately, she was positive she couldn’t win. His beliefs ranked higher than her—especially when he wouldn’t even admit they were dating, despite them living together. If she pressed him, she guessed he’d say they were roommates and celebrating free love. She didn’t want an open relationship, but she had no idea how to convince him to make it official between them.

“Jennifer?”

She looked up at him with sorrowful eyes. She wiped tears from her cheeks she didn’t know she’d shed, and he entered the room to sit next to her on the bed. He didn’t speak for several minutes. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Please don’t cry, doll.”

“I didn’t know I was until you walked in,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“I might have deserved it a little,” she teased listlessly.

“Or you might deserve this.”

Josh lifted her chin and pulled her lips to his. With just a breath between them, he leaned forward and kissed her so sweetly it tasted like candy. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her as his tongue traced and explored her mouth. She moaned softly and threaded her fingers through his shoulder-length hair.

He leaned her back onto the bed and hovered over her. As her chest heaved, he tugged at the tie on her robe and brushed it open to reveal her pebbled skin. He dropped his mouth to her stomach and kissed her until she thought she’d pass out. When she whimpered, he moved upward to her breasts and sucked her right nipple into his mouth. She arched under him, but he refused to do anything other than suckle her into a rigid peak before moving to the other side.

She concentrated on steadying her breath and the grunts he released as his mouth laved and sucked and nuzzled her. She ran her hands over his shoulders and through his hair. He moved slowly, unhurried, intentionally as he covered her body and wound her tighter.

He bit her earlobe and hissed in her ear, “You’re so beautiful, Jennifer.”

“Josh,” she breathed in response. “Josh, I need you.”

“What do you need?” he teased and slid down to her waist.

“You. I need you.”

He nudged her legs open and blew on her inner thighs. “Your voice is trembling, sweetheart.”

“Please…”

The first brush of his mouth against her swollen lips forced a deep moan from her. She grasped the sheets as he guided her right leg over his shoulder and angled his head to bury his tongue inside her. She squirmed, but he held her down as he feasted on her.

Heat built within her, and she stopped struggling. She trusted him, and there was no reason to believe he’d do anything other than make her feel amazing. It was too early to have received such horrible news, and she knew this was a way for both of them to gain comfort from the other. She needed him, and he was there. She decided to trust him and enjoy it.

The wave built inside her, and he pulled back just as she was about to crest. When she moaned her disappointment, he returned and began again, slower and with more attention to her clit. He drove her to the edge and retreated several times before he slid his fingers inside her and sucked until she arched and came.

It took forever. Waves of pleasure rolled through her one after the other, which gave him time to settle himself between her legs and push into her. Her walls continued to spasm as he pumped into her. He chanted her name as he filled her, hard and rigid from the length of their foreplay. He buried his face in her neck, and she tugged at his t-shirt. She wanted his skin against hers, but the thin cotton was in the way.

“Jen, I’m so close.”

She tightened her grip on him as his movements grew more erratic. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

“I can’t… Jen, I can’t.”

“You can’t what, baby?”

He cursed and bit her shoulder as he stilled and spilled into her. He lifted his head and kissed her before curling onto his side and pulling her against him. They lay together for hours, both scared to admit things between them had to change. Neither knew what to say, so they remained silent as they drifted in and out of sleep. The summer breeze wafted through the open window and caressed their skin. It was late afternoon before Josh finally washed his chest clean.

****

“If that jackass calls me sweet cheeks one more time,” Jen fumed, “I’ll—”

“Walk out the door and never come back,” Jack guessed while he continued to type furiously.

She groaned as she sank into her chair and placed her head in her hands. “I would, but then I’d be unemployed and broke and on the streets.”

“The offer still stands to give you my friend’s number. You could make the move to television easily. You’ve got the looks.”

“Thanks, old man,” she joked, “but I like it here with you.”

“I’m not going to be here much longer, Jen. You might want to reconsider.”

Jen snapped her head to stare at her colleague, but he continued writing. It took several minutes for her to work through her confusion to ask him for clarification.

“I’m retiring in a few months, sweetheart. I’ve been doing this for a while, and my kids have been begging me to get out of the business and come live near them. I’ve got grandchildren to spoil, you know. Can’t work forever.”

“But Jack!” she sputtered.

Finally, he stopped pounding on his keyboard and turned to face her. “Jennifer Lawrence, it’s time to take the next step. Mr. Murrow isn’t ever going to stop making comments about your legs, no matter how many times you threaten him with the EEOC. Take the interview, Jen. Go report for the local affiliate. You’re so talented. You’ll move up there just as quickly as you have here, and you won’t have to deal with that buffoon anymore.”

She sat quietly for several moments, but the idea didn’t become any less strange to her. She didn’t know how to do television. She had no experience. Her training was in newspaper. She’d have to disguise her southern accent. She’d have different hours than she did at the Tribune.

Then again, maybe that would be a benefit. Things were strained at home. They had been since she’d gone back to work after her vacation in early June. Josh was unhappy in Chicago, but that’s where she was. He stayed for her, but she knew he wouldn’t for too much longer. It was a miracle he’d remained with her as long as he had while the world swirled around them.

Maybe this new career move would be good for them, give her a new purpose that would make him leaving easier. Because he was going to. She’d seen it before when he was preparing to graduate from Berkeley, and he was behaving much the same way. She woke every morning expecting his side of the bed to be empty. So far it hadn’t been, but it was only a matter of time.

“Maybe I will take that number, Jack.”

He grinned at her and scribbled a name and series of numbers on a slip of paper and handed it to her.

“Good luck, Jen. You won’t need it, but you deserve well-wishes anyway.”

“Thanks, old man. I’m going to miss you.”

“Missing people is one of life’s greatest sufferings and privileges.”

“That it is, friend. That it is.”

****

“Right there, baby. Right there,” she whimpered as she moved over Josh’s face. He gripped her hips as she rode his mouth, her long legs doubled against his shoulders and flexing every time she rocked against him.

He grunted and sucked harder on her clit causing her to lose her rhythm and buck against his nose. He inhaled her musky scent and reached up to cup her tits and pinch her nipples until she yelped in pain.

“Make me come, Josh,” she begged. “Please. I need… Dammit, yes!”

He licked and sucked harder causing her to grab the headboard and grind onto his chin until tremors raked through her and she climaxed. Her mewls filled the air as his face grew wetter. He didn’t stop until she fell off him and into a heap on the bed. He reached over to kiss her as he grabbed his cock and tugged. He was so hard and ready to burst, but she was in no condition to assist.

“Let me help,” she slurred, but he shook his head and gripped himself harder.

“I’ll be done in a minute. It’s fine, doll.”

Her hand closed over his, and the feel of her skin on his made his groan. Together they pumped him faster. His hips bucked upward, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Jen scooted closer and whispered dirty phrases to him that made him jerk and spasm. When she nibbled his ear, he bit his lip and ejaculated. The fluid covered their hands, and he slid his fingers against hers.

“This is so filthy,” she grunted and wrapped her legs around his thigh.

“I like filthy. It looks good on you.”

“Good enough for the newest female reporter at WMAQ Channel 5 to take Chicago by storm?”

He flipped her onto her back and nudged her legs apart. With his eyes open, he kissed her hard and circled her clit with the pad of his thumb. Her lips parted when he pulled back to watch her reaction, and he alternately pressed and circled for several minutes. He grinned when she nudged his neck and lazily licked along his jaw.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered as he buried his middle finger in her pussy.

“I’m an investigative reporter, you know,” she gasped and raked her fingernails up his back. “I’ll find you if you leave me.”

“Creepy,” he teased as he stroked her.

“I know.” It came out as a moan, but she smiled as he continued to work her.

“I’m not leaving,” he insisted.

“Yes, you are.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know you don’t.”

Her eyes remained closed, and he watched as her back arched and her forehead scrunched.

“You’re close again,” he marveled. “I’m jealous.”

“Multiple orgasms. Best part of being a woman.”

He bent to bite her nipple and sighed as she broke around him. Her legs clamped shut over his hand, and she pulled his hair for several seconds before relaxing her fist. He sought her mouth with his, and they kissed until they fell asleep together. Josh woke in the middle of the night when Jen got up to use the bathroom. As he lay alone in the dark, he realized she was right. He was preparing to leave. He’d been mentally packing for weeks. He craved her, but he needed more.

This love he felt for her wasn’t free. It was restrictive and painful, and he needed some space. They’d joked several weeks earlier that 1968 was their own private Summer of Love, but Josh wondered if maybe it was the end instead.

#joshiferrecs #joshifersource #fyeah-joshifer #the vintage joshifer series #joshifer #end of love #1960s #jhutchdirectory

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deztinywarriors · 6 years

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ES Spectre 2.0 Chapter 16

#Playchoices #Endless Summer #fanfic #choices #adventure #pixelberry

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starfan1934 · 7 years

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Scissor Happy

So here’s my second fan fiction. This one takes place earlier in the second season than the original “Running with Scissors” so that I didn’t have to have a messy Jackie break up. This one is about how I think it would go if Star were the one who spent many years in Hekapoo’s dimension. She only spends eight years, since I think she’s a lot more competent and powerful than Marco, but she also suffers more after effects. Can Star Butterfly get tired of adventures and fighting monsters? I think eight years alone fighting to survive would be enough to do that. If I got the details wrong about PTSD, I’m sorry. I tried to go off what I’ve read and seen on TV and stuff. I don’t mean to demean or imply that it’s not a big deal.

P.S. Dr. Smith is based on the new Doctor Who played by Jodie Whittaker. Traveling dimensions and “time travel” seemed like such a Doctor Who idea that i couldn’t resist putting in a small guest appearance. I chose the female Doctor because Star’s experience with male professionals had so far only included the guidance councilor who already worked for Tom, while her female role models include her mother and her teacher.

Marco

“Marco, Marco, Marco!” Star yelled, hopping through the portal into his room.

“What?” Marco groaned, pulling the pillow over his face to block out the light from the portal. “It’s too early for school.”

“It’s Saturday!” she said, hopping onto the bed next to him and pulling the pillow away from his face and said, “No school today!”

“That’s even worse!” he grumbled. “What’s going on?”

“Pony-Head told me about a bunch of great new dimensions she heard about at St. O’s,” Star said. “We’re going to visit all of them!”

“Can’t we do it later?” he grumbled. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

“There are forty-three dimensions, Marco! We can’t waste time sleeping in!” She grabbed his hand and pulled. He reluctantly sat up, yawning.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Give me a minute to get dressed.” She left his room while he put on his jeans and hoodie. He walked out and found her bouncing in place on the foyer. She opened a portal and grabbed his hand. He fell through the portal, a familiar sensation by now. He looked around his new surroundings. “It’s a beach,” he said, slightly disappointed. “We have these on Earth.”

“Not like this!” she said in her sing-song voice. She pointed behind him, and he turned. He did a double take, turning so fast that he fell.

“It’s a…it’s a…” he couldn’t form a sentence.

“It’s a giant turtle!” Star laughed, running towards the head. “Everything here is the opposite of Earth. It’s called Htrae.”

“That’s Earth spelled backwards,” Marco said, but Star was out of hearing range. He ran after her, but had to jump out of the way as something massive burst from the sand. A crab the size of a minivan climbed out of the sand and walked sideways towards the water. Tiny birds soared up to try and get away, but the crab snapped up a few, shoving them into its grotesque mouth. Marco caught up with Star at a tide-pool at the edge of the shell. Whales the size of goldfish breached, and Marco saw tuna the size of whales eating a bunch of small sharks a hundred yards from the turtle. They ignored the turtle, though, so Marco didn’t worry. They ran around looking at the tiny island that existed on the turtle’s back, and then they went to another dimension. This one reminded Marco of Star’s friend Cloudy. All of the people were clouds. They could change their shape based on their mood and their environment, so Marco had a lot of fun hanging out with them at the party Star had found. Star got impatient here faster, and soon they were in another dimension.

“No way!” Marco said as he flew through the sky.

“Pony said this place is completely free of the rules of Mewni and Earth gravity,” Star said as she walked along next to him. There was nothing under her feet, however. She dived down, acting as if she was swimming one moment and walking the next. Marco had a lot of fun feeling like he was flying. An intense game of tag ensued as the two teens chased each other across the dimensions. The visits got shorter as the day wore on, and they started to blur to Marco. He lost track after thirty dimensions, and he had started to lose interest. He let Star pull him through another portal, but his head snapped around when he heard Star scream. Too late he noticed that the portal was very different from the previous portals. This one was an intense shade of orange. He landed on hard dirt, feeling Star’s hand slip from his arm.

“Where did you get these?” an angry voice asked. Marco turned to locate the voice. There was a pale woman with blood-red hair sitting on top of the portal. He was about to ask how she did that, but a look from Star shut him up.

“Hey, Hekapoo, how’s it going?” Star asked, putting on a cheerful front.

“Not much, princess,” Hekapoo said, but the term didn’t sound respectful. “I didn’t realize your mother had given you scissors. I’ll have to ask her not to give away mine, though.” She turned the scissors, and Marco saw strange characters written on the blades.

“Those are yours?” Star asked.

“Yep,” Hekapoo said, “And since I know Moon knows how to spell my name, I doubt she gave them to you.” Hekapoo hopped down from the portal and stormed towards them. “So where’d you get them? Did you happen to pick them up somewhere?”

“What? No, they were given to me,” Star said, but then squeaked and covered her mouth.

Hekapoo’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll deal with the person who took them, then,” she said. “For now I’ll send you back to your mother and make sure she gives you a lesson on stealing.”

Star got paler, which Marco didn’t think could be possible. “No,” she whispered.

Hekapoo cut open a portal. “Let’s go, princess,” she said, and this time it was more threatening than respectful.

“But she’ll make me go home,” Star whimpered. “I won’t be able to go back to Earth.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you stole my scissors,” she said. “Let’s go!”

“Marco grab the scissors!” Star yelled. She jumped back, spinning her wand to face the immortal. “Narwhale blast!”

“Got it!” Marco yelled. He hopped onto one of the narwhals and then leapt into the air. He came down behind Hekapoo, turning to grab the scissors.

“Not so fast,” she said, smirking as she spun. The scissors opened a portal, and Marco fell through. He screamed as he found himself falling through thin air. He saw Star and Hekapoo far below him. Based on her expression Hekapoo could hear his screams already. A blast of pink light shot towards him, and Cloudy appeared beneath him.

“Oh, thanks, Cloudy,” Marco gasped in relief as the fluffy friend caught him.

“No problem, Marco!” Cloudy said cheerfully. She hummed as they floated towards Star. Marco saw her blast kittens at Hekapoo, but more portals caught all the fuzzy creatures. She jumped through a portal and appeared behind Star. Star spun to find her, stepping right into the portal. She was now falling above Marco, yelling for Cloudy. Marco found himself falling again as Cloudy did a barrel roll and then shot up towards Star. He managed to grab onto Cloudy’s “tail”, dangling with one hand. Star’s impact on Cloudy nearly jarred him loose. Star grabbed his arms, pulling him up. She got him up and Cloudy spread out enough for both of them. Hekapoo smiled up at them as they tried to catch their breath. Marco shifted, feeling something under him. “Oops, I’m sitting on the wand,” he said. He picked it up and turned to hand it to Star. A flash of white, orange, and red filled his peripheral vision, and he heard a familiar tearing sound behind him.

“There are two,” Marco thought as he fell through the portal. He hit the ground hard, and groaned as he rubbed his head. He saw the portal close. “Oh great,” he muttered, standing up. He looked down at his hands, and he groaned again. “Oh, this is really bad,” he said as he looked at Star’s wand.

Star

“Marco!” Star yelled as the portal closed.

“Oops,” Hekapoo said sarcastically. “There goes your wand.”

“Bring him back,” Star yelled, lunging at Hekapoo. She fell through the ghostly apparition, but she caught herself and rolled until she was back up on her feet.

“Forget him, he’s not the problem,” Hekapoo said. “You lost your wand.”

“Bring Marco back!” Star yelled, lunging at Hekapoo again.

“You’re as stubborn as your mother,” Hekapoo said. “Relax, I’ll return your wand to your mother, and she can give it back to you.” Hekapoo grinned and added, “If she thinks you still deserve it.” She shrugged as she started to walk away. “I’ll send the boy to Mewni also, you know, when I think of it.” She laughed as she walked away.

“I demand the trial!” Star said.

Hekapoo turned around, real surprise on her face. “Seriously?” Hekapoo asked.

“You have to allow me to attempt the trial now, correct?” Star asked.

“Yes, but the royal family members don’t need to undergo the trial,” Hekapoo said. “You’ll inherit your mother’s when you become queen.”

“Well, I’m doing the trial,” Star said.

“Okay,” Hekapoo said with a shrug. A thousand clones appeared. In the distance, Star could see one clone holding the scissors. “Blow out the flame of the one with the scissors and you win,” Hekapoo said. She opened a dozen portals and the clones started to filter through them. Star dove into one portal, grabbing one clone and blowing out her flame. The others laughed, and Star chased after them.

Marco

Marco sat back against a rock, looking out at his new surroundings. He was in a swamp, he knew that much. A giant plant that resembled a Venus Fly Trap was a few feet away. A large rat walked over it, and it snapped shut faster than Marco could see. He suddenly realized where he had seen one before. “I’m on Mewni,” he said. He looked around, trying to figure out which direction led to Star’s castle. He settled on a direction where a golden glow emanated in the distance. He started to walk towards it when he heard a portal open behind him. He turned, and saw Hekapoo and Star walk through. “Star, are you okay?” he asked. Her clothes were really different. Her jacket was made of leather, and her skirt looked like alligator skin.

“Fine,” she said, and in that word Marco knew that she was far from it. Her voice was emotionless, more monotone than a robot. She cut open a portal with a pair of scissors Marco had never seen before. She took her wand from him and said emotionlessly, “Come on.” She stepped through the portal.

Marco looked at Hekapoo, who smirked. “She did all of it for you,” she said. Her smirk disappeared, and she said gently, “Take care of her. She’s going to need it.” Hekapoo went through her own portal, and Marco followed Star.

He stepped into Star’s room. The portal closed behind him. “I’m going to shower,” she said.

“Are you okay, Star?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said again. She got some of her clothes and went to the bathroom. Marco waited for the sound of the water to start before he walked over to the bed and knelt down. He dug around underneath it until he found the spell book. He opened it, flipping through for Glossaryk.

“Hello, Marco, my boy!” Glossaryk said cheerfully. “Any fun adventures planned for today?”

“Something’s wrong with Star,” Marco said.

Glossaryk sighed. “Listen, Marco, if it’s Mewberty again, you really just have to chill.”

“It’s not that,” Marco said, and he dove into the story of Hekapoo. When he got to the part where he landed on Mewni, Glossaryk interrupted him.

“How long before Star came through the portal again?” Glossaryk said sharply.

“Um, I don’t know, a few minutes?” Marco said, trying to remember.

“Marco, this is really serious, how long exactly?” the blue mage asked.

“Dude, I don’t have a watch, how should I know?” Marco snapped.

“I have to go,” Glossaryk said. His eyes shot into his skull, which made Marco gag. He sat and waited for Glossaryk to return, but he still jumped when the eyes suddenly reappeared and Glossaryk gasped loudly. “This is bad,” he said.

“What happened?” Marco asked.

“I talked to Hekapoo,” Glossaryk said. He looked up at Marco, all humor gone from his eyes. “Time passes differently in her dimension. Star was trapped there for eight years trying to get a pair of scissors so she could find you.”

“Eight years?” Marco asked incredulously. “Why? She could have just gone home!”

“Hekapoo was the only one who knew where you were. You could have been in some dark demonic dimension being tortured for all Star knew. Hekapoo said she might take you to Queen Moon, but Star wouldn’t risk your life on the chance that Hekapoo remembered a human.”

“She spent eight years trying to save me?” Marco asked.

“Yeah,” Star said from behind him. He turned. “A thank you would be appreciated.”

He didn’t say anything as he stood up and walked up to her. He hugged her tightly, but she didn’t return the hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I was stupid,” she said. “I should have known Pony Head wouldn’t own a pair of scissors. I should have known she must have stolen them, and that I would get caught eventually.”

“Now you’re the one who got caught!” a voice said. Marco spun. Ludo was standing in the window. Monsters were climbing up the walls of the house.

“Narwhal blast,” Star said flatly. A single narwhale flew from her wand. Marco screamed as it hit Ludo. Its horn impaled his head, completely destroying it. His body fell from the windowsill, and the narwhal followed a moment later.

The monsters all froze, and then one yelled, “Run!” They ran for the portal, but more narwhals followed them. None of them lived long enough to reach the portal.

“Corpse disintegration ray,” Star said, waving her wand over the yard. All the bodies turned to dust. There weren’t any signs that a massacre had just occurred.

“Star!” Marco yelled. “What was that?”

“It was us or them,” Star said, turning and walking towards the door. “Letting them live doesn’t fix anything. They would just keep coming back.”

“What happened to you?” Marco whispered.

Star spun to glare at him, and for the first time since they met, Marco was afraid that Star would purposefully hurt him. “What happened to me?” she yelled. “I had to survive. I spent every day hunting for that damn immortal. I spent every night afraid that a monster would kill me in my sleep. I killed to eat, I killed to survive. Every day it was them or me, and I always chose me, all because eight years ago I chose you over me.”

“Star,” he whispered, his eyes watering, but she stormed out. He didn’t see her again until she came home in time for dinner. His parents could see something had changed for Star, and that the two kids weren’t seeing eye-to-eye at the moment, but Marco shook his head when his mom looked at him. Every small sound made her jump and grab her wand, searching for a threat. By the end of dinner even Marco’s parents were on edge. Star agreed to watch a movie with him, but she was like a statue, unmoving and uninterested. Marco missed her constant questions and jokes and comments, but he was afraid to mention it. After an hour of the uncomfortable silence, Marco excused himself to go to the restroom. He went upstairs and went to Star’s mirror. “Call Pony Head,” he said.

“Calling Pony Head,” the mirror said. She appeared on the screen after a moment.

“Earth-Turd?” she asked surprised.

“Pony-Head, I need you to get here ASAP,” he said, “Star’s acting really weird.”

“No problem,” she said. The call ended, and within a minute a portal opened behind him.

She followed him downstairs, and stopped at the corner. “Hey, Star, guess who’s here!” Marco said, gesturing to the wall.

“Hey, B-Fly!” Pony-Head yelled, flying over and spinning around the couch. “How’s it going?”

“Hey, Pony-Head,” Star said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “Want to watch the movie with us? It’s pretty good.”

“Girl, you know I hate movies,” Pony-Head said. “Come on, let’s go party!”

“No, thanks,” Star said. “I’m not really a fan of parties and stuff anymore.”

“You’re not?” Pony-Head asked, sounding crushed. “I guess a movie sounds good, then.” She sat down in the middle of the couch, and they watched the movie in mostly awkward silence. Once it was over Pony-Head rushed to get out before it got anymore uncomfortable.

“Well, good night,” Star said, heading upstairs.

“Night, Star,” Marco said, staring at the dark TV screen.

“Hey, Marco?” Star asked, and he turned to look at her. “I do appreciate it, you trying to cheer me up by bringing Pony-Head,” she said.

He smiled. “Sleep well, Star,” he said. She smiled back at him, and he could tell she hadn’t smiled in a long time. He went to bed a little bit later, but he lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours. As he stared at the dull paint drips that formed patterns on his ceiling, the rhythmic sound of the clock was interrupted by faint shouts. Marco jumped out of bed and ran to Star’s room. He opened the door quietly, in case someone was attacking her. She was thrashing around on the floor, her blankets strewn around the room as if she had kicked them off. She was yelling and screaming in her sleep. “Star!” he whispered, reaching down to push her shoulder. The moment he touched her, her eyes snapped open. Before he could even process her movement, he found himself on the floor, pinned down and in a choke hold. “Star!” he choked out, “It’s me!”

Her eyes focused, and then widened. “Marco!” she gasped, jumping back. Marco saw tears gathering in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Star,” he whispered, standing up. He pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. This time she returned it, squeezing him tightly, just the way she used to. Now the tears started, and she sobbed silently into his hoodie.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked. “I don’t like any of the stuff I used to, I can’t sleep, and I nearly killed you.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Come here.” He led her back to her bed and sat down next to her.

“I slept on the ground for so long that it feels suffocating to sleep in a bed,” she said, tears still pouring down her face.

“We aren’t going to sleep yet,” he said. He lay back and pulled her against him. She rested her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around him. “It’s called PTSD,” he said as he stroked her hair gently. “It stands for post-traumatic stress disorder. Soldiers and people who have gone through really bad stuff suffer from it. It’s totally normal.”

“You sure?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Tomorrow we can find someone to talk to at school, and they can help you feel better. There are people whose entire job is just helping people with PTSD.”

“Okay,” she said, holding him tighter.

“Why don’t I stay with you tonight?” he asked. “I’ll keep watch, and you can sleep.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, but he could hear the hope in her voice.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “It’s my job to take care of you, too. Give me a minute to set everything up.” He went to the shed and got the sleeping bags. He unzipped them and lay them out on top of each other. It was the size of a bed but not super squishy. He took her hand and walked her over to it. She lay down, and he set some pillows at the head of each part. He lay down, and then pulled Star against him. “You’re safe,” he said, putting his arms around her. “I’m here, and I’ll never leave you again.”

“Thank you, Marco,” she whispered. Her eyelids were already drooping. Her breathing evened out as she fell asleep, and Marco stayed awake for a while. If he felt Star’s heartbeat speed up or her breathing started to get uneven he would stroke her hair and whisper in her ear, “I’m here, Star. It’s okay.” If he repeated it enough, she would eventually calm back down. He figured he was waking her up a little bit, but she didn’t wake enough to put him in a choke hold. When Marco’s mother came in the room the next morning to find them, she found him stroking her hair in his sleep, and a small smile was on each of their faces.

“Morning, Marco,” she whispered, nudging his shoulder. Star stirred, and Marco held her closer. He nodded to his mom, and she walked out.

“Hey, Star,” he whispered. She snuggled deeper into the blankets, pushing closer to him. “Time to get up, Star,” he whispered, smiling. She mumbled sleepily. He gently kissed her forehead, and she opened one eye. She blinked slowly, smiling up at him.

“That’s one way to wake me up,” she said, slowly sitting up. “Did you kiss my forehead?”

“Yeah,” Marco said sheepishly.

She smiled at him. “That was sweet,” she said, kissing his cheek. She got up and yawned.

“You can go down to breakfast,” Marco said as he got up. “I’m going to go take care of finding someone to help you.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, hugging him tightly again.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” he said.

“Alright,” she said. She went downstairs, and Marco went to her mirror.

“Call Tom,” he said.

“Calling Tom,” the mirror said.

The demon appeared on the screen. “Hey, Star!” he said, grinning, but then looking confused when he saw the boy. “Marco?” he asked.

“Hey, Tom, I need your help with a project for Star,” Marco said. “Are you busy?”

“Is she okay?” Tom asked, genuine concern on his face.

“She’s not in danger, but she’s not doing okay,” Marco said.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll be there,” Tom said. Marco nodded, and Tom hung up. Five minutes later a column of fire appeared, and Tom walked out of his carriage. “What are we doing?” Tom asked.

“We’re finding Star a psychologist,” Marco said.

“What’s that?” Tom asked as the two walked down the sidewalk.

“It’s someone who helps people that have trouble with their brain or emotions,” Marco explained. He told Tom what had happened. Tom listened carefully, losing his sarcasm and obvious dislike of Marco.

“I hate scissors, and I really hate Hekapoo,” Tom muttered when Marco finished.

“Oh yeah, you don’t use scissors, do you?” Marco asked.

Tom shook his head. “No, demons can make portals without scissors,” he said. “So what’s my purpose in this?”

“If Star and I talk to someone about her aging eight years in four minutes and being from another dimension where she’s a magical princess, they’ll say we’re crazy and put us in a mental hospital,” Marco said. “I need you to do some flames and necromancy and stuff to show them that magic is real.”

“Wouldn’t my claws and third eye be enough?” Tom said, pointing to his forehead.

Marco shrugged. “Some people are really stubborn, especially super smart people,” he said.

He turned out to be very wrong. The woman didn’t even blink when Marco told her about Mewni and time differences in Hekapoo’s dimension. “Okay, we can start today,” she said.

“I thought you wouldn’t believe us,” Marco said, slightly surprised.

“Oh, no, of course I believe you,” she said, no hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Everyone knows there are other beings in other dimensions, and time is a big ball of timey-whimey…stuff. So for it to pass differently in one dimension than in our dimension is completely understandable.”

“Um, okay,” Marco said.

“Why don’t you tell me how she’s been acting since she came back,” she said. Marco talked about her behavior and Tom explained what Star had been like her entire life, and the Dr. Smith nodded when they finished. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to work with her,” she said. “I think this will go fine.”

“Thank you,” Marco said.

“She can come in this afternoon at four o’clock,” the woman said, handing him a card with her name, Dr. Smith and number. “It’ll be six hundred and fifty dollars per session.”

“Of course it is,” Marco said.

“Is everything in this dimension that price?” Tom asked as they walked out.

“Evidently,” Marco said. “Tomorrow if you want you can come by and see Star, okay?”

“I’ll let her work this out first,” Tom said. “I’m an annoyance to her, and I don’t want to make her situation worse.”

“Thanks, man,” Marco said. Tom nodded before returning to the Underworld. Marco went home and told Star about her appointment.

“So I just talk to this person?” Star asked later that day.

“Yeah, you just sit back on a couch and talk,” Marco explained. “She’s super smart and know how brains and emotions work and stuff, so she’ll know exactly how to make you feel better.”

“That’s a really great magic,” Star said.

“Definitely,” Marco said. They got to the office. “Okay, this is it,” he said. “I’ll be sitting out here the entire time, so just let me know when you’re done.”

“Okay,” she said. She went in. Ten minutes hadn’t passed when she came storming out. “I can’t do it!” she said. “It’s too much.”

“What happened?” Marco asked.

“She’s starting to suppress some of the memories, but they’re still affecting her,” the Dr. Smith said. “She can’t start to recover until she faces them.”

“I don’t want to face them!” Star yelled.

“Hey,” Marco whispered, taking her hands. “You can do this.”

“But I don’t want to,” she whimpered, her eyes getting watery.

“Come on,” Marco said, leading her gently by the hands. She followed him back into the room. He sat down at one end of the normal couch, and said, “Lay down.” She lay down and put her head in his lap. He stroked her hair gently, and slowly her frantic breathing slowed down. He put his hoodie over her, tucking it around her. “How’s that?” he asked.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

“Take as long as you need,” the woman said, opening a book. It was a few more minutes before Star started to talk. Marco was glad she couldn’t hear his heartbeat, because parts of her story made his heart race. He kept a façade of calm and kept stroking her hair gently, and she managed to get through her whole story. She started to talk about how she had been acting since she got home, and the woman made notes at points that Marco didn’t understand.

“Your friend was right, this is a classic case of PTSD,” she said after a while. “But don’t worry, Star, we’ll be able to take care of this. You’ll be able to get past this.”

She was right. After two hours Star seemed relieved to get the whole story out. “Okay, I’ll see you again day after tomorrow,” the Dr. Smith said. “You did really well, Star.”

“Thanks,” Star said, giving her a small smile.

“I’ll just take Mr. Diaz to get his receipt and then you all can go,” she said. Star nodded, sucking on a lollipop Dr. Smith had given her. Marco followed the Doctor down the hall to the front desk, where he paid. “It’s good that you have each other,” she said as she filled out the receipt. “Not a lot of couples have that much trust in each other.”

“Oh, we’re not a couple,” Marco said.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” she pondered. “You all are basically a couple, even if you aren’t officially. Either way, it’s good that you two are together.”

“Thanks,” Marco said as she handed him the receipt. “Star, ready to go!” he called. She walked out, and he held out his hand. She cocked her head, confused. “I’ll lead this time,” he said. She smiled, and took his hand. The Doctor smiled as they walked out.

“What now?” Star asked.

“How about ice cream?” Marco asked. “That’s a good first date.”

“A what?” Star asked.

“Want to go on a date?” Marco asked, “To get ice cream?”

Star smiled. “That sounds awesome,” she said.

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #hekapoo #tom #ponyhead #running with scissors #starco fanfiction #starco fanfic starco fan fiction

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daddybugattibieber · 7 years

Text

chapter 15

Sasha’s POV

I am wake up to Justin cautiously staring at me. I remember the last of our conversation, I feel the heaviness of regret and shame. The feeling of vulnerability makes my voice shrivel and all I could do is curl up and cry, cos I just want to be alone, for a while.

I look at his bare naked chest to see that I drooled on him. It made me feel even worse. I took one of the blankets a wiped my saliva from his chest without giving him any contact.

He grabbed my wrist.

“Let go, please” I whisper. I close my eyes readying the wave of emotions that will soon tide over.

“Hey, its okay Sasha, just talk to me” He coaxes.

“I’m fine, I don’t wanna talk” I defiantly say.

“Please” he begs, his eyebrows curve and his eyes become wider and innocent but it’s his game, it’s how he manipulates me every time.

“Did you really wake me up for this” I stubbornly miss his point.

“I didn’t mean to” he apologizes.

“It doesn’t matter if that was your intention you still did” I heatedly whisper, and turn my body away from him.

I felt his arm wrap around my body tightly, trapping me, pushing me into a corner. I couldn’t do this. I tried to get away from him but he wouldn’t let go.

“Are we still talking about your sleep” Justin said. “Look at me Sasha” he whispered into my ear. Like the naïve slut I was I turned around for him, not for myself.

“What” I felt the tiredness in my sunken eye lids.

“I’m sorry for hurting you” He looks into my eyes and instantly my eyes water.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault for letting you” I close my eyes and try to gain any strength I have left.

“No I should have known, I put you in a vulnerable place. I was being selfish. I still wanted a sex life but without all these big mouth girls who'll sell my privacy for money and 15 minutes of fame, it was about me, and I should have been always been about you. I think I knew you liked me, I didn’t want to confront it, because I don’t want to disappoint one of the best things in my life. I knew this would hurt Selena, I was so mad she ended things”

I scoffed. “I hate her you know that, I hate that you always choose her over me, I hate that I’m the opposition of her, I hate that I’m second to her Justin. I hate how she doesn’t see that she has the best thing in the world. I hate that she hurts you, but most of all I hate that the fact you will never love me as much as her”

“That’s not true” he shook his head. “I love you so much Sasha, you should never doubt that”

“Why’d you fuck me then, you pursued me Justin, I look at you like sun shines from your ass since the moment we meant, I’d do anything for you, you just had to say the word, I’m always there for you, I always have been. I’m not your little sister, I never was. I never say no to you, you knew I would say yes, you knew I would always be loyal to your dumb ass. You used me to get back at Selena. Even when I think you care about me it’s always because she isn’t here. The things you said to me, I thought they were real. Everything I ever said to you was real and I meant it”

“I know, I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t want you to be with anyone but me, I feel so possessive over you. I don’t want this to change our friendship because you will always be a part of me” He wipes the tears that seem to profusely stream from my face.

“I should have told you how I felt a long time ago, I just didn’t want us to change, I was scared you would cut me out of your life. I didn’t want you to treat me differently because I loved you”

“You don’t deserve me” he caresses my face. “I’m not good for you. I’m toxic. I hurt everyone, I’m destructive”

“Then let me decide that, not you, you are an amazing person, just because it didn’t work out with Selena that doesn’t mean another… girl will come along. Stop measuring your worth in terms of other people. Don’t put people on pedestals and get mad why you didn’t make room for yourself. Find happiness in yourself Justin, you are worthy of love and happiness, find content within yourself and stop searching for it elsewhere”

“You should listen to your own advice, I shouldn’t be on your pedestal” Justin stared at me with unshed tears. “You know that you are the best person I know”

“Pfft. Then why am I so damn unloveable” I closed my eyes. “Can I ask you a question?” I open my eyes for more tears to fall.

“Of course” he looked at me. I wiped my own tears. I gathered my uneven breaths and let it out.

“Honestly, what’s wrong with me Justin, why can’t you love me, why am I not enough for you, why can’t you try, for me.” I cringed. He stared at me carefully. I saw it in his eyes, the pain he felt or was it guilt? I sniffled a little and regained my bravado. We both knew the answer.

“I’m not her” I whispered. He looked away as his tears fell. I bit my inner cheek to keep me from breaking down.

“Will you ever get over her?” I looked at him. All he could do was wipe my tears.

I let out a pained cry I was holding in. He holds my face in his hands.

“Can you promise me something?” I look at him. He nodded.

“Will you try if things don’t work out with her. I’m not her, but I’d make you laugh, and I can make you feel wanted, I’d make you feel loved, if you’d give me a chance I’d try my hardest to make you happy”

I wiped away his tears as he nodded.

I kissed him lightly as both of our tear streaked faces consoled one another, sealing our fate.

I begin to take off my shirt, but Justin stops me.

“Make me forget” I throw my shirt on the floor carelessly. I kiss him again as he melts into my assault. Justin couldn’t resist sex, I guess I manipulated him too. I concentrate solely on his lips. As our mouths seek therapy in one another, swallowing each other, he massages the flat of my tongue, sloppily sucking on my lip. I want him to consume me. Justin kisses traveled from my jaw to my neck, suctioning my neck and moving down to my breast, and biting my nipples scraping it them against his teeth, I throw my head back at the pain but at the same time I feel a shock through my spine that reaches the bundles nerves in my clit.

I pull his chin up to me and suck on his bottom lip biting him hard, as he growls into me. His assault was getting aggressive. I liked being something he could throw around, I liked how he gripped me like I was gonna run. It made me feel something other than being alone, I felt wanted, needed. He was like heroin, eventually I was gonna overdose in a motel on a sheetless bed and eyes rolled back. He was my drug, and like any addiction it takes over your life, it consumes you whole leaving nothing in return but still leaving you chasing the feeling you’re so fixated on. It doesn’t matter because that high tops being crippled by reality.

He made me feel alive. He knew what buttons to press. He was my self-destruct button.

This fight, his grip on my hips were like talons, I felt myself bruising. I threw away the towel from his waist. I didn’t waste any time, I clasped his face in my hands kissed hard before pulling away.

“Fuck me like you’d fuck her, fuck me like you can’t fuck her, fuck me cos’ I’m not her” I croak at him angrily from the tears stuck in my throat. I saw the fire burn in his eyes, I release my tears from the ducts.

Justin slammed my back against the bed so that he hovered over me, he thrusted into me with no remorse, he lifted my ass and maintained his tight grip on my hips and he met my apex with firm thrusts, pistoling in out of me, I moaned in pleasure. Justin slapped my hands away from clit, he motioned me to clasp my legs around his back as he slammed into me while pinning down my arms. My back arched as he continued to hit my g-spot, getting deeper with each pound he gave. I felt my toes curl.

I felt Justin take one of his hands away from my wrist and then caress my throat, as he clasped tighter around it making it hard for me to breathe.

“Harder” I whispered.

“Shut the fuck up” He growled into my ear, and pounded harder and tightened his hold on my neck.

“You like it when I fuck you hard like this, huh” he yelled at me.

“You like it when you act like a dirty little slut” I felt my voice escape.

“how about when I fuck your tight cunt” he spit as he pinched my clit. I felt my thighs shake.

“how does it feel to be my fucking bitch, taking my whole cock” my eyes blurred with unshed tears.

“you like being choked, you like not fucking breathing as my cock is in you” I breathed through my nose threw the narrow airway he created.

“you like it rough, bitch” he smacked my ass.

“fuck you’re so tight” he groaned

He released my neck and I gained some air in my lungs, he pulled out quickly and flipped my body so that I was on my knees. I felt his hard dick against my ass.

The sound of skin getting smacked rang through out the room as I flinched, feeling my ass become hot with pain. Without sympathy he slapped the affected area again with a heavy hand, making me whimper into my pillow. I felt myself cry out.

“ Scream my name” he demanded. I refused to play his game.

He pulled my neck back with one hand, and with the other pulled my hair tight and angled my head so that my lips were exposed, I felt my back arch like it would snap in half. I felt his hard cock search for my gaping apex. Once I felt the head of his dick with no hesitation he pistoled in me. His clasp on my neck tightened, I screamed as his dick filled me whole. His hold on my hair was yanked before he released it and massaged my asshole. The juices between us were streaming, and he slipped his thumb inside.

“My little slut likes it up her ass just as much as her cunt” his hand around my neck tightened.

I felt my pussy clench around his dick as he angled my body with his hips, curving his cock inside of me.

“You like being filled like this”

I slung incoherent expletives as my thighs shook and my stomach coiled as I felt the wave of pleasure course through. His thrusts became irate and erratic before his last thrust slammed into me as my pussy continue to milk his cock, I felt his hot semen spurt into me as he groaned into my ear and slowly thrust in me before he came to a stop. He released my neck and I wilted away into the bed. I felt him pull out as his cum warmly seeped out from in-between my cool thighs.

“I promise. I’ll try” Justin heatedly answered. Justin laid down beside me as I curled into a ball facing him.

I looked at him with tears in my eyes nodded before kissing the corner of his mouth.

He turned towards me and grabbed the base of my neck, capturing my lips in a gentle kiss. He pulled away and snuggled himself into my body.

He lifted my leg and wrapped it around his stomach as his slid back into me, I moaned into his lips.

We laid their connected, feeling our presence with one another.

This high didn’t compare to anything.

I couldn’t get enough of him.

Entangled in one another with our fucked up minds.

I am irrevocably in love with someone who could never love me back.

What did I do to deserve that?

#Justin Bieber FanFiction #justin bieber imagines

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diddlesanddoodles · 7 years

Text

HIDE

100 GT Theme Challenge! Summary: A college freshman witnesses an incident of ‘mythical’ proportions and it totally ruins her night. And a lot of other things too. College is hard, but it wasn’t suppose to be dangerous. Warning: Some cursing and mentions of violence.

Her Psych 101 textbook was laid open on the small coffee table as well as half a ream's worth of printer paper, all of them print outs from various websites from the obligatory Web MD to spiritualists forum posts. Two days worth of study, the knuckle scraping scouring of all available resources available to a student of Bridgewood University and the only thing she had to show for it was a migraine, sleep deprivation, and the one inescapable fact: She was crazy. Well and truly crazy, because there was no other explanation. She considered the idea that perhaps she had been slipped something during the party and had some sort of allergic reaction and then there had been all the alcohol. Though in truth, she had only indulged in a can of hard cider and a single shot of tequila. But she was a light weight and it had been her first real college party. She sighed angrily, tossing away a stack of papers, and fell back against the plush sofa’s pillows to stare helplessly up at the popcorn ceiling. The sorority house was nearly silent at this hour with most of the girls either at class, out and about the town, or sleeping off the prior night’s over indulgences. While she was very grateful for the privacy, she was also aware that perhaps she could do well with a second opinion. But then. Well. How did you explain to someone that you witnessed a murder and when pressed about what the victim or assailants looked like...well. They were tall. Like...really really tall. She’d been too scared, too confused, and...perhaps a little too drunk – tipsy? – to go to the police. Or to tell anyone. She sighed again, grabbing at her hair in frustration. “Stupid. This is stupid. Stuuuuuuupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid pants.” She turned her head to stare at an old portrait of a young women dressed in old fashioned clothes, high collared, proper, prim, and pressed. And free of the burden that was witnessing...well, whatever the hell it was that she witnessed. Somewhere in the swirling confusion that had become her brain, she was aware that she should be angry at Peter. He neglected to show, leaving her alone under the overpass in the cold foggy night. Stood her up. Well screw him. If he didn’t want to hang out with her, then he could have just fucking said no like a man and then she would not have been there when it happened. When they happened. Whatever they – or it – has been. Other than a murder. A steady, hollow tapping broke the silence of the house and startled her badly. After a moment to compose herself, and with a little effort, the girl managed to pull herself from the sofa and make her way to the front door. “Coming,” she called out when there came a second round of knocking. “Just a second.” She turned the cold metal doorknob and pulled the heavy oak door open and as she opened her mouth to greet the visitor, she froze and her mouth hung open in mute horror. “Hi there!” Said the man cheerily, waving his hand. She slammed the door shut and pressed her back against it, heart hammering and mind racing. “Hey – !” Belatedly, she turned her body over to reach up and lock the padlock and slid the chain into place. Stepping back, she watched door warily. There was an expectation that the door would burst open any moment and she went through her mental inventory of possible defense weapons. There were knives in the kitchen and iron pokers near the fireplace and...she paused and looked over at the small decorative side table pressed against the stairwell. A letter opener made to look like a tiny sword sat on top of a small stack of letters. She grabbed it and faced the door again. “I’m just here to talk, kid,” came the muffled voice of the man. The very regular man. The very not monster tall killer man thing she had the other night. How was he small? Smaller. How was he...why was he? How did he find her? Oh gosh. Oh...frick. Fuck. Fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck! “So,” he continued. “Can we talk? Face to face maybe? Kind of suspicious looking to be talking to a door. People might think I’m a little loopy in the head.” Loopy in the head –? Oh he did not just –! “Go away!” She yelled back. “Or I’ll call the cops!” He laughed. “And tell them what, sweetheart?” “Don’t call me sweetheart, jerk face.” “Fine,” he replied lightly. “Say you do call the authorities, Gabby. What exactly are you gonna tell them?” Bristling at the flippant use of her name, she floundered for sort of response. “W-why do you know my name?” “I know lots of things when it’s my business to know.” “Why are you here?” she asked, real despair beginning to color her voice. “You know why,” he replied simply. “You saw.” Gabby was aware that her hands were trembling. “I don’t know what I saw. Please, just go away.” “Believe me, kiddo. You don’t want me to go away,” said the man, his once chipper and light hearted voice turning somber and serious. “You want to hear what I have to say. Maybe not right at this moment, but in a short while you will. And by the time you come to regret your choice not to let me in and here me out, it’ll be too late.” She was quiet and considered his words. “That sounds a lot like a threat, dude.” “That’s because it is, dude.” Despite herself, she laughed, but it died in her throat quickly and she was left staring down at her feet. “Look. Gabby,” the man’s voice was softer, like his face was pressed close to the wood. “If you want this to go as smoothly and with as little to no casualties as possible, let me in. We’ll sit down and we’ll discuss your options.” “Casualties?” Her voice was quiet and squeaked more than she would have liked. “An unfortunate statistic. One I can mitigate, but only with your cooperation.” “Is that a threat too?” “No. It’s a promise.” The weight of it all was heavy on her shoulders and her belly protested, aching with anxiety and oh, how easy it would be to just open her mouth and scream bloody murder until the man went away. The man that was not really a man. Or was he? A man who could also be a monster-thing-giant-person? “Gabby?” She’d been quiet too long and she could sense the man-not-man’s patience thinning. “Gonna need an answer here, kiddo.” “If I let you in and we, uh, talk,” she asked, feeling as though she were in a hostage negotiation. “D-do you promise no one gets hurt?” “No one gets hurt.” “No one?”she pressed. “No one. That includes you too,” he answered. “Cross my heart and hope no one dies.” “You just said –!” “I know, I know! And I mean it, just...I was trying to be clever. Lighten the mood some.” “...please don’t do that.” “Sorry. Gallows humor. Kind of comes with my line of work.” She groaned as she undid the chain and went to turn the deadbolt. Her fingers clasped the knob, but hesitated. Gabby could not help but be aware that she was, in the most literal sense of the phrase, opening a door to a new phase of her life. With a simple turn of the deadbolt, everything was going to change. Even though it already had. She thought of her sorority sisters still sleeping upstairs, the other students, and beyond them she thought of the towns people. The things she saw that night...she was no fool in thinking that they could hurt – or kill – whoever they wanted. Resigned to the tide of fate she had fallen into, Gabby turned the deadbolt and opened the door. The face that greeted her was grinning. Someone might have called the man handsome in his tan denim work jacket and faded gray t-shirt and wranglers. Even small he was still tall, taller than her by a good foot or so and she was not a short person. He looked so normal it weirded her out. He could be anyone. Blonde hair, tan skin, and a rough stubble. His looks were completely disarming and average. Like he had been plucked from the cast of Seventh Heaven and tossed onto the streets of Bridgewood. Had she not known – not seen – him for what he really was, she would think he was just a nice guy, an average working man. She turned away and walked over to the living room, hearing the man’s boots as he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them. Stiffly, she stood near the sofa and gestured at it for him to sit. The man gave her a nod and sank into the overly plush sea foam green cushions. “Do...do you want something to drink?” she asked inanely. “No need,” he replied. “Hopefully this won’t take long.” Gabby was happy to hear that and took a seat in the Hepplewhite suit chair close to the bay window. If things went south she could always jump out the window. Though the thought made her ill. “So,” she started awkwardly, fiddling with the letter opener. “H-how long have you been a giant?” The man laughed, scratching at his nose. “All my life. But you’re asking the wrong question. You want to know why I’m small.” “Dude, even when you’re small, you’re not small. You’re like six feet tall.” “You say that like it’s impressive,” remarked the man. Giant. Giant-not-man. Small giant-not-man-person-thing. “Because it is. For normal people.” He raise an eyebrow and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You mean for humans.” Gabby paused at that. “Yeah. For...humans.” She closed her eyes for a moment to let the absurd sentence take hold in her mind. “So. You’re not human? Well, duh, I knew that. Kind of. I didn’t know that. Not because I didn’t know know, it never occurred to me to think you were anything but even though you’re clearly not. Are. Are not. Okay.” She sighed. “So, not human?” “No,” he replied with an amused smirk, gray eyes sparkling. “I’m not, nor have I ever been, a human being.” “So, that makes you…?” He shrugged. “It makes me what I am.” “And that is…?” she pressed again. “The fella trying to save your life,” he replied flatly. “Look, as entertaining as this is, I don’t have time to indulge your curiosity. And the truth is, you don’t either. I’ve bought you some time, but not much. You saw me – as I really am – doing my job. Which is bad. Let’s leave it at that.” “Okay. Bad like...how bad?” “Bad enough that when – not if – when it’s found out you’re a material witness to these events it’s gonna catch the attention of some folks.” “Bad folks?” “Real bad folks,” he echoed in a severe tone and then abruptly lighted and added, “And also some not bad folks who – like me – are just doing their job. Except their job is to neutralize leaks. And with me being one of those leaks, naturally I’m already on their radar. And now because you witnessed that little rendezvous the other night, that includes you. Sadly.” “Oh goody.” “No. Not really. The first group I can handle easily. The other guys are a little more...more.” “That doesn’t make sense.” “Something you’re going to have to come to terms with.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she threw her hands out in an accusatory gesture “So...so what? Y-you pull some...like, mob style hit on some guy-thing-monster-man-dude and now I have to go into some type of witness protection thing? Is that what you’re telling me?” “You’re fast on the uptake, kiddo,” the man said, leaning back into the sofa with his arms crossed, looking pleased. “Bolds well for you. Good indicator of strong self preservation instincts.” “Yeah,” she replied dryly. “I’m kind of allergic to dying. And pain in general.” “Aren’t we all?” he replied lightly and appearing far too at ease to seem appropriate for the current topic. There was a lull in the conversation where she took a moment to study him. After a time, she blurted, “Are you a cop?” He laughed, throwing his head. “No. No, I am most definitely not a cop.” “Then why do you give two shits if...if I’m in trouble because I saw what I saw. Which – by the way – I’m still not entirely sure what it was I saw. I was pretty upset at the time and possibly drunk. Okay, not drunk, I was tipsy. A little. But I was kind of preoccupied with other stuff and whose to say I–” “With what?” She blinked at him. “Huh?” “You said you were preoccupied. With what were you preoccupied?” “Oh...uh. A guy. Peter. He was supposed to meet me under the overpass near where...y’know. All that...stuff went down,” she ungracefully elaborated. “But he was a no show and then you were the show and now we’re here. Talking about the no show that became a show. So...yeah.” He nodded sagely and not for the first time did Gabby resist the urge to stab him with the letter opener. “So,” she said instead, taking a deep breath. “What’s next? I mean...” The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card, slightly crumbled, and stained with what looked like coffee. Or possibly dried blood. She decided it was coffee. More for her peace of mind than anything. He held it out to her. “You pack a bag and go to this address. Be ready, alert, open minded, and on time.” Taking the card, she glanced over the address. She did not recognize the street or the zip code despite it saying that it was located in Bridgewood. She glanced up at the man, eyes almost pleading. “What do I tell the school?” “Nothing,” he replied simply. “Huh? Nothing?” she gaped at him. “I have to say something. I can’t just –” “You say nothing,” he stressed, raising a finger. “To no one.” “What about my parents?” she continued, voice becoming desperate as the true depth of reality to her situation was becoming clear. Gesturing to the corner of the room, as though her parents were standing there, she cried, “I have to say something to them, I mean – !” “No one, Gabby,” he stressed, standing. She followed his example, pushing up from the chair. “I can’t just disappear!” “You won’t.” Those words put a pause on her panicking and she took a moment to simply breathe. “No?” “Of course not,” he replied as though it were all so obvious. “We want the folks who want to do you harm to think that harm has already been done to you.” “...why? Why is that what we want them to think?” “Because they can’t kill a corpse.” “Okay, so pretend that I’m an idiot and…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If they think you’re dead then they won’t come looking for you. If you just run off, they have plenty of nice folks from all over to pick from to use as collateral to get to you. That’s how extortion works, kiddo.” “All because of what I saw?” “Yep. Sucks, huh?” The room was spinning and she head the clattering of metal before she was aware that the letter opener had fallen from her hand. “Why would they care what I saw? Why do you care that they care? Why? Just –! Why…?” “They have their reasons. None of which will make anything of this more palatable,” he said with a shrug. “As for my reasons, they’re quite simple. Guilt.” “Guilt,” she parroted. “...just guilt?” “Pretty much. I don’t have anything against humans. You’re entertaining when you’re not trying to invade and conquer everything. In small numbers, you little guys are actually quite endearing. Had I done my job properly, you wouldn’t have seen a thing and you’d have just gone home disappointed about being stood up by Peter the jerk face,” With one hand he gestured to the books and papers scattered about the coffee table. “Instead of terrified and questioning your own sanity.” “But I did...and I am. So…?” “So I do my job. Properly.” “And that means faking my death and hiding me...someplace?” He nodded. “Quick on the uptake again, kiddo.” Swimming in her own head, she began to slowly pace the room, not really seeing the space around her, but seeing it as a representation of her own life. Present and at the same moment, slipping away quickly and being taken into someone else’s hands. Trusting someone she did not know based on...based on… She had seen this man, the man standing just over there, change into a tall impossible giant and kill another man. No...not man. The murder victim, the target, had been a grotesque being. Monstrous and tall, not as tall as the giant man, but taller than any human with oddly green molted skin and huge jaws and long teeth like...like a troll. The giant and the troll had wrestled for a bit before the giant got a hold of him proper and...just pulled him. Not apart. There had been no blood. But the troll’s spine had cracked, loudly. Loud enough for her to have heard it snap. And then the troll was still. Unmoving. Dead. She had stayed to stare, but the man – the giant – had seen her. He saw her see him and she had ran. All the way back to the sorority house. A thought came to her then and she turned back to the man. “How did you even find me?” He reached back into his jacket and pulled out a bit of white plastic, holding it out to her. Taking it, she looked down to see her own face staring up at her. It was her fake ID. The one she used to get into the party. She had not even noticed it had been missing. Belatedly, she realized she was crying. “This is just...so...so stupid.” The man did not say anything, only standing and watching her. He seemed to be waiting for an answer. “Where...where would I be going?” she asked, voice small. Hurt. And scared. “Will I ever come back?” “I wish I could answer that.” “Which one?” she asked, a little hopeful. “Both.” The small spark of hope died with an undignified squeak. “You can’t tell me where I’m going?” “It wouldn’t mean anything to you for one. And secondly, I don’t know. That way if by some miracle on the other fellas’ parts I’m nabbed, your safety won’t be compromised.” “So I go to this place and just...hope for the best?” “The people I’m entrusting you to know their business.” “Like you know yours?” she snapped accusingly. “Better,” he retorted. “Which I why I am entrusting them with you.” “And why should I be entrusting me with you? Myself with you. My safety with you?” “Because the alternative is to go on with your life like this is all an unpleasant dream until the day, very soon, they find you and neutralize you. Neutralize being the nice clean professional term for killing you. And anyone else they feel is connected. Rightly so or not. People could get hurt. People could die.” “I feel like you’re just trying to guilt trip me into trusting you,” she grumbled, sniffing miserably, and wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else. Anyone else. “That’s because I am,” he replied. With a tilt of he head, he regarded her curiously. “Is it working?” She glared at him, scrunching her nose up distastefully and in a low guttural growl she replied, “Yes.” The man immediately brightened and clapped his hands together. “Good! Then my work here is done!” He moved around the sofa, heading towards the door with an almost skip to his gate. “Like I said, be at that address tonight. Be on time. Can’t stress it enough. And pack smart.” “Whoa, wait up a moment there, Chuckles!” Gabby ran after him, meeting him as he was already half way out the door. He paused, one hand on the outside doorknob, and waited expectantly. She floundered. She had so many questions and so many thing she would like to say – many of them unkind things and several choice phrases and some elaborate curse words – but instead, all she could manage was a bumbling stammer of, “S-so...what...what do...s-should I pack?” “Comfortable clothes. Stuff you can run in, easy to clean,” he replied and began to consider the matter further. “Nothing electronic. No phone, no laptop, not even a digital watch.” “Why can’t I bring –?” “Just because. Trust me,” he replied shortly. “And whatever...lady things.” She stared. “Lady things?” “Yeah, you humans have weird reproduction habits,” he elaborated with, to her slight amusement, a little red in his cheeks. “You might find...supplies are lacking where you’ll be going. So. Yeah. Lady things.” “I’ll add it to the list,” she replied dryly. “Anything else, Doctor Oz?” “Aluminum!” He replied abruptly as though he had struck mental gold. “...what?” she asked, the odd suggestion throwing her for such a loop that she forgot for a moment hat she was suppose to be freaking out. “Yeah, that’d be good. Bring a couple rolls of aluminum foil.” “...any particular reason why?” “You’ll thank me later.” “How many?” “As many as you can carry.” She stared with abject incredulity. Her fear was quickly being replaced by irritation and she could do nothing but shake her head in disbelief. “And remember,” the man was saying as he began to close the door behind him. “Be on time!” She startled out of her ire and lunged for the doorknob and yanking it back open. The man stood on the porch, open faced and inquisitive. “Wait! Just...what...what’s your name?” He looked taken aback. “What?” “Well, you know my name,” she explained with a half hearted shrug. “And it only seems fair for me to know yours since...you’re trying to help and all.” He turned his body to fully face her. He slipped his hands into his jacket pockets and smiled. “You can call me Elliot.” “I’m guessing that’s not your actual name,” she replied without much surprise. “Huh?” His smile widened and he pointed at her with his finger in the shape of a gun. “So quick on them uptakes.” “I’m just noticing a pattern is all.” “I will say one more thing,” Elliot added. “Names are important. They’re special things. Take care of it and it’ll take care of you. So be careful with who you entrust it to.” “So I need a fake name?” Elliot winked at her. “Any suggestions?” she sighed and leaned against the frame. “One that familiar and that you’ll actually answer to,” replied Elliot. “You’d be surprised at how little thought some folks give to their alternative name.” “Okay,” she replied absently. “Sure.” Elliot paused, hands in his pockets, and stared down at her for a moment. “I think you’ll love it.” She returned the stare. “What’s that now?” “I mean, sure, you’re kinda backed up into a corner and all,” he said. “But in the end I think you’re gonna have some fun too. Just remember to live too. Surviving doesn’t mean much when you forget to live along the way.” “Uh, sure...okay. Uh, thanks for that...bit of advice.” Elliot turned on his heals and walked down the steps of the sorority house, whistling. “Remember,” he called back to her. “On time with an open mind.” She watched him as he sauntered down the sidewalk and out of sight. “Why do I have the feeling the open mind bit is the part I should have asked about?” She sighed once more and pulled herself back into the house, already doing a mental tally of her belongings and where she could get aluminum foil close by.

#100 themes challenge #giants #humans #g/t #gt #storytelling #stories #hide #elliot #Gabby #g/t writing #fantasy #college #witness protection

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waveswordswhispers · 7 years

Text

A Terrible Neighbour

HI HI HI I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE FOR SO LONG!!! I know I promised smut but I wanted to get this out first! Merry late Christmas and a Happy New Year @senren, @fairyfairypie, @yolkygoblin, @seitsuya, and @soukoku-writes!!!

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Dazai Osamu was the worst neighbour in the world and anyone who said otherwise was blessed to never have met him.

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Chuuya was going to kill his neighbour.

For gods sake it was only November second and he could hear the Christmas music blasting already. What an animal.

It wasn't like he hated Christmas, on the contrary, he loved it but for God's sake, there wasn't even snow on the ground yet.

"WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Chuuya shattered the glass in his hand.

Again, no complaints about the carolling but it wasn't even December, it was loud and full offence to his neighbour, he had a terrible singing voice.

"GOOD TIDINGS WE BRING TO YOU AND YOUR KIN, GOOD TIDINGS FOR CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

"SHUT UP!" Chuuya yelled, throwing his door open.

"HI!" his neighbour yelled back, tangled in lights. "Mind helping?" Chuuya's eye twitched.

He was disrupting the neighbourhood and he had the nerve to ask for help.

"GO DIE! AND SHUT UP!"

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In hindsight, Chuuya should have known that his neighbour would not just simply stop at singing at the top of his lungs during the day. He'd only moved in a month ago and his neighbour was nothing short of insane.

A week later, his point proven as he stared in horror at the flashing light show sprawled out across his neighbour's lawn, not including the lights plastered onto the house. Chuuya briefly wondered how Dazai had somehow managed to paste that many lights onto his house without killing himself since Dazai seemed to always be getting into accidents before remembering his current predicament.

His neighbour had chosen exactly when Chuuya was drifting off into sleep to blind him with the thousands of bright lights. So not only was his neighbour an asshole, he was obnoxious as well.

"OSAMU DAZAI I WILL FRY YOUR POWER SOURCE IF YOU DO NOT TURN YOUR FUCKING LIGHTS OFF!" Chuuya heard another neighbour screech and was eternally grateful for Yosano Akiko's terrifying personality for once as the lights plastered onto the house clicked off.

"Yosano-san, it looks good though!" Dazai protested.

"I DON'T CARE IF IT LOOKS LIKE A MASTERPIECE OR A DOG TURD, IT'S STILL TOO BRIGHT!"

"Chuuyaaaaaa," Dazai whined. "Help meeeee."

Chuuya flipped him the bird before waving the shears he had grabbed on the way out.

"YES, CUT THE ELECTRICAL CHORD PLEASE!" Yosano encouraged from across the street, her usually immaculate hair in a mess. "ALSO RUN HIM OVER WITH THAT NICE CAR OF YOURS WHILE YOU'RE AT IT!"

The lights blinked off for a moment and Chuuya could hear Yosano sigh in relief before they came back at full force, even more on this time.

Yosano's frustrated scream split the air and Chuuya was grabbing his car keys.

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To be honest, Chuuya was willing to move again if it got him away from the one and only pain in the ass Dazai Osamu but he just didn't have the funds.

He had the motivation.

He was pretty sure no one was RUDE enough to use a snow blower loud enough to wake the dead at four in the morning.

Then again, this was Dazai.

Professional asshole and annoyance extraordinaire.

"TURN THAT DAMN THING OFF!" Chuuya screamed out the window and Dazai shut off his snow blower for a moment, grinning up at Chuuya. "WHY ARE YOU EVEN DOING IT AT FOUR IN THE MORNING?"

"Practical!"

"NO IT'S NOT! YOU'RE BEING A BASTARD! LITERALLY NO ONE IS GETTING SLEEP!" Dazai snickered, leaning against his snow blower.

"You see anyone else complaining?" he teased and Chuuya reached down to snatch some snow from his windowsill, balling it into a snowball and nailing Dazai in the face.

Dazai wiped the snow off of his face, bending over before quickly making his own, three snowballs sailing towards Chuuya within seconds.

Chuuya let out an enraged shriek, one snowball completely missing him and smashing into the wall beside his head, one zipping past his face into his house and the third smashing into his chest, ruining his perfectly good pyjamas.

That was it.

They were pyjamas from France gifted by Kouyou-nee.

Dazai was screwed.

Chuuya grabbed his coat and mittens, storming out the door.

He might not have been able to even reach Dazai's chin but he was an absolute terror when it came to snowball fights.

Game on.

Dazai snickered loudly, pretending to fall over in fright when Chuuya put on his mittens.

"Oh my, I'm so-HEY CHIBI, WAIT, WAIT!" Chuuya promptly shoved snow down Dazai's back, listening to satisfying scream Dazai uttered.

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"How the fuck are going to fit that into your house?" Chuuya snarled, wondering how Dazai was an actual detective in the police force.

First of all, he was incredibly dense at times.

Second of all, he just made really, really dumb choices.

Such as bringing home a real like tree for Christmas that stood taller than Dazai's ceiling.

"You're going to help!"

"You're going to ruin your ceiling," Chuuya deadpanned. "And your door. Maybe a couple of decorations. Who knows, with your track record."

Dazai pouted.

"You're so mean."

"I'm just stating the truth."

"You're not helping?"

Chuuya snorted and went back inside.

Bad choice.

Extremely bad choice.

His car alarm started blaring not ten minutes later and he sprinted back out only to find Dazai's stupid Christmas tree crushing his car.

"Uhhhh," Dazai laughed. "I hope you have insurance!"

Chuuya regretted not taking Yosano's advice with running over Dazai with his car three weeks earlier.

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"Kunikida-san!" he shouted hastily into his phone.

"Ah, Chuuya-san," Kunikida responded slowly. "What has Dazai done this time?"

"If the shitty bastard gives you a present, what do I do?"

"Burn it. Trash it. Or don't even touch it at all," Kunikida advised and Chuuya shrank away from the present that had suddenly appeared under his own Christmas tree.

"HOW DID HE GET INTO MY HOUSE IN THE FIRST PLACE?" Chuuya did not remember ever giving Dazai a key. Or his password to bypass the alarms.

To do that would mean the end of the world.

"Chuuya-san," Kunikida said patiently. "I think you need to get a better security system."

"That's breaking and entering, it's against the law!"

Kunikida snorted.

"If we honestly had Dazai arrested and jailed every time he broke the law, we would never see him again," he pointed and Chuuya rolled his eyes.

As he thanked Kunikida and placed his phone down, it rang again.

"Chuuya h-" he started.

"CHUUYA~" Dazai yelled excitedly.

"I'm hanging up," Chuuya growled, cursing himself for not checking the caller ID before picking up the phone.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

"I'd say you too but I don't wish anything merry on you," Chuuya shot back.

"Awwww, did you open the present?"

"Nope," Chuuya chirped. "Not planning to."

"I promise it's nothing bad!"

"I don't trust a word that comes out of your mouth," Chuuya muttered dryly but he was already reaching for the present, bracing himself for something. He unwrapped it gingerly and opened the box, eyes widening in surprise.

"A hat?" he asked softly.

"Yeah!" Chuuya was about to thank him because it was actually pretty nice before Dazai blustered on. "I noticed your obsession with ugly hats so-"

Click.

Chuuya hung up on Dazai, letting out a frustrated groan.

Terrible, terrible neighbour.

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"Chuuya!" Dazai shouted and Chuuya jumped, screaming as he beat at Dazai with a pillow. The power had gone out right after Christmas and Chuuya was trying to stay warm.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?" Chuuya screeched, kicking Dazai in the groin.

"Just wanted to be a good neighbour and check to see if you had frozen to death-" Chuuya cut him with another kick.

"GET OUT!"

"I was trying to be a good-"

"YOU'RE A TERRIBLE NEIGHBOUR, AT LEAST KNOCK!" Dazai huffed grabbing Chuuya's blanket and effectively wrapped Chuuya up, preventing Chuuya from inflicting any more damage.

"For someone with such short legs," Dazai mused, ignoring Chuuya's loud cursing. "You kick pretty hard."

"LET ME GO AND I'LL SHOW YOU JUST HOW HARD I CAN KICK!"

"Hey Chuuya," Dazai suddenly leaned forward, grinning. "Do you have anyone to spend the New Years with?"

Chuuya grinded his teeth, glaring at Dazai.

"Well, I was going to drive to Kouyou-nee's place for Christmas and the New Years but someone crushed my car with their stupid pine tree they did not even use afterwards." Dazai laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Technically it is being used." Chuuya gave him a blank note and Dazai elaborated. "As firewood." Chuuya let his head fall back with a tired sigh.

He couldn't deal with this guy.

"No," he finally answered. "I don't have anyone to spend the New Years with."

"Great, me too! I'll come over right before midnight and we can-" Chuuya wriggled out of the blanket sausage and slapped Dazai with another pillow.

"Hold, hold, hold," he put his hand up when Dazai quieted down. "You don't just invite yourself over to someone's house." Dazai sat down, forehead creasing. "Where are your manners?"

Dazai smirked. "Can't be bothered to find or use them."

"Jesus Christ-"

"But can we please spend New Years together?" Chuuya blinked in shock.

He hadn't really expected Dazai to say please and to think about it, he really didn't want to spend New Years alone.

"Okay fine," he relented and Dazai clapped his hands cheerfully, springing up to hug and infuriatingly, lift him up and spin Chuuya around like he was a goddam girl. "BUT!"

"And there's always a but," Dazai deflated, dropping Chuuya.

"I pick the alcohol and you do not do anything fishy."

Dazai nodded, grinning slyly up at Chuuya.

"Alright."

Chuuya felt like he had made on the biggest mistakes in his life.

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"You're not a lightweight, aren't you?" Dazai inquired as they sat in front of the tv, power thankfully restored.

"I ammmm," Chuuya slurred, leaning forward. "But it's a secreeeect allllright?" Dazai chuckled.

"Alright chibi."

"I'm drunnk, not deafffff."

"Countdown is starting!" Dazai directed Chuuya's attention away from him and Chuuya started jumping up and down.

"Ten! Nine! Eight! Join meeee!" he chanted and Dazai stood up as well, shaking his head.

"You're such a child," he murmured fondly under his breath. "Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

As the fireworks erupted on the screen, Chuuya spun around, red hair falling into his face as he reached for Dazai. Dazai froze and his eyes widened as Chuuya leaned forward, kissing Dazai firmly.

Chuuya tasted like the pizza they'd eaten earlier and the wine they'd been drinking during the night.

"Happy New Year, Dazai," Chuuya whispered. "Shitty bastard," he added as an afterthought.

Dazai gaped at him and Chuuya touched his face almost tenderly before collapsing into Dazai's arm.

"Oi!" Dazai exclaimed. "Chibi! Hatrack!" Soft snores floated up to Dazai's ears and he grinned.

"Trust you to fall asleep."

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The blaring of a horn woke Chuuya up the next day.

"IT'S THE NEW YEAR, EVERYONE UP, UP AND ABOUT!" Chuuya would have screamed back if it weren't for the pounding headache that signalled a monstrous hangover. Adding more noise to the racket didn't seem like such a good idea. It sounded like Dazai was using a microphone which explained why his obnoxious voice was louder than usual.

Chuuya poked his head out from under his covers, strange he didn't remember getting under them and squinted at the brightness.

"IT'S A NEW START, TIME TO BEGIN ANEW AND START TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH YOUR RESOLUTIONS WHICH YOU WILL ULTIMATELY LET GO!'

Chuuya needed to think but Dazai was not helping.

He caught sight of a glass of water on his bed side table with some aspirin accompanying it.

A note read:

I figured you wouldn't be able to function this morning so this should help.

Chuuya huffed.

It looked like Dazai wasn't all that bad.

Then he flipped to the back.

You should work on your kissing, it's not bad but I've had better.

He took that back.

Dazai was terrible.

Wait.

He had kissed Dazai?

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SO HAPPY?" Yosano complained.

"CHUUYA KISSED ME LAST NIGHT!" Dazai replied gleefully.

There was complete silence for a moment as Chuuya processed what Dazai had just screamed out to the neighbourhood.

Shit.

"I THOUGHT YOU HAD BETTER JUDGMENT!" he heard Kunkida yell.

"YOUR TASTE IN MEN AREN'T HALF BAD NAKAHARA BUT WHY HIM?" Yosano shouted.

Chuuya buried his head under the pillow and wished for the world to end.

#osamu dazai #dachuu #nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs #soukoku #ahahaha im so sorry #this is so late #omg omg #ahhhhhhh #but here's something #and I'm happy with it!#fluff #kissing #I PROMISE I WILL TRY TO WRITE MORE #whisper writes

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