#and i can actively see the picture window in the living room flexing...

[aeide-thea]

usually when nef gets anxious abt weather noises i'm like 'aw bud it's okay!' but actually this time i'm like 'no i'm with you this wind is kinda scary :('

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Ten

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

warnings: NSFW (!!), light abuse mention

this chapter is dedicated to the amazing showstopping talented @duskandstarlight for reviewing my writing and helping me successfully edit the sexy times!! she's so cool yall ❤️

***

The first thing she notices when she steps inside is the sound of crackling, followed by a warm glow from the living area. The lights are all off, but the fireplace is ablaze.

Nesta’s brows furrow, confused, but then she sees on the couch— “Cassian?”

Cassian’s eyes widen at the sight of her, and he stands quickly from the couch. “Nesta.” He’s breathless. Like he ran a great distance to get here.

Nesta is worried that she had one Jello shot too many. That maybe she’s still in Eris’s car, dozed off and dreaming. She can’t remember falling asleep, though.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers. If she’s too loud, he might disappear.

“I came back.” His hands flex at his sides, and Nesta wishes for the millionth time that she was better at reading emotions, because she’d give anything to understand what’s going across his face right now.

“You’re supposed to be in Velaris for the weekend,” she says dumbly.

“Fuck the weekend. I couldn’t even make it through dinner.” Are his eyes red?

Nesta’s mouth opens and closes, and she turns toward the burning fireplace. Weirdly enough, she’s grateful for the lack of lights. She can’t see the depth of Cassian’s expression under the firelight alone, and he can’t see hers.

“Why?” is all she can say.

“I…” He scrubs a hand through his hair and blows out a harsh breath. “Shit, we promised we would take things slow just a few days ago.” He laughs derisively. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Nesta’s head swivels to Cassian, eyes focused on him in that intense way of hers. “Tell me. I want to know what you were thinking.”

He drops his head, staring at his shoes. “I missed you,” he says lowly. “Even though I knew you were doing perfectly fine without me, I drove all the way back here like an idiot because I wanted to see you.”

Nesta’s throat tightens the longer she stares at Cassian; it’s getting hard to breathe.

Cassian clears his throat in the silence, attempting to sound lighthearted. “So, that’s how I’m doing. What about you?”

“I had fun,” Nesta says, somewhat quiet.

“I saw.” He tries to smile. “You looked so happy in that picture. It made me happy.”

He’s telling the truth and lying at the same time, Nesta can tell. “I felt weird tonight, too,” she admits, swallowing. “Happy, but… lacking."

Cassian looks up at that.

“I’m really glad you came back,” she whispers. “I missed you too.”

“Nesta,” he breathes.

She takes a step closer to him. “I didn’t want to be clingy. Tell me if I’m being clingy.”

He shakes his head quickly.

“I don’t think you should leave me alone again,” she says into the dim glow of the room. "Not for a while, at least."

"I'm thinking the same thing."

He's right in front of her now, just inches away. She swallows; when did he get so close?

"If you want me to stop, I need to know now," Cassian says, voice low. His hands hover in the air between them, like he has to physically restrain himself from reaching out and touching her. "Because in a minute I won't remember why we agreed to take this slow."

All the air leaves Nesta's lungs in a straight whoosh. "I already forgot."

This kiss happens faster than the last one, but is somehow still slow— Nesta doesn't know which one of them moves first. All she knows is that one moment she's a lone figure, and the next she's joined with Cassian, his arms being the only thing still holding her upright.

He wasn't lying when he said he missed her, she finds out quickly. He kisses her with a drawn-out desperation that makes her head spin, using the distraction to ease her out of her coat and drop it to the floor. He pulls back for a sharp breath, only to take a look at her. "I can't believe I missed seeing you in a dress."

"I have more, we can look at them later," Nesta assures, her hands already reaching to tear the dress up and off of her. Cassian's hands catch hers at the last moment. "Easy, baby." He laces his fingers through hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls her in for another kiss before she can even process how much she likes the word baby. She latches onto his promise the way she latches onto his lips, like the string of a balloon about to fly away from her. He's not going anywhere. Not even to the next room.

The next minutes are the gentlest battle of wills Nesta has ever fought: every time she tries to speed things up, Cassian grounds her with his hands and mouth and towering form. When she becomes too impatient and reaches for the button of Cassian's jeans between kisses, he sweeps her right into his arms, forcing her legs to wrap around his waist and her arms to cling to his neck. His own hands slip right under her skirt, straight to her ass and squeezing.

The new angle presses her center firmly against his hard length, and she greedily accepts the simple pleasure he grants her with a choked gasp. "Can we please—"

"Don't rush this," Cassian murmurs into the underside of her jaw, walking them to the stairs. He stops to press her into the banister, rubbing his hips lazily into Nesta's. "I've waited a long time for you. Now it's your turn to wait." He bites down on a soft spot of skin.

This is real, Nesta finally realizes. This melting heat turning her limbs into jelly— it's not her mind wandering off to involuntary thoughts about Cassian's dick. The kind of thoughts that have her pinching her wrist hard enough to hurt. No, this is infinitely better than any three a.m. fantasy she's had so far.

He's carrying them upstairs now, but Nesta barely notices with how she's clasping his face, demanding all of his attention with her hungry kisses. It's a wonder they both don't topple down the steps with how starved she is for him.

How long has this need been building up in her? She doesn't want to know, even as the ache between her legs intensifies and she's eased onto a mattress. Blinking, she notices they're in Cassian's room. She hasn't been here since that night she was sick, and even then she didn't get a good look at the place through her haze of pain.

It's decorated with art and personal photos, big enough to carry a fireplace and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Her own room isn't half as nice. "You've been holding back from me," she accuses.

Cassian looks up from where he's kneeling between Nesta's legs at the foot of the bed, realizing that she's talking about the room. "Why?" he smirks. "You looking to move in?"

As if she can even consider such a thing right now when she's seconds away from combusting.

Like he knows exactly how she feels, Cassian pushes the hem of her black dress up until it bunches around her waist, leaving her painfully exposed. His eyes glaze over at the sight of her plain gray panties, narrowing on the darker damp spot over her slit. A predatory look crosses his face, one that makes goosebumps pebble along her thighs. He tugs her even closer.

"Cassian..."

It's too late for whatever Nesta is about to say, because Cassian isn't listening anymore. Leaning forward, he noses at her clothed crotch, placing a slow kiss on the wet fabric of her underwear before dragging it off entirely and tossing it aside.

Nesta gasps and squirms when he pulls her legs firmly over his shoulders. "Um," she tries to say, "I don't really have a great history of getting off to oral—"

She's interrupted by a long lick up her center, from the wetness pooling at her entrance to the tip of her clit. Her hips jerk involuntarily, and then Cassian is outright feasting on her, all his words of patience suddenly as meaningless as a snapped leash.

Nesta's head falls back against the mattress with both overwhelming pleasure and unexpected surprise. Getting eaten out has never done much for her in the past— most of the time she just ended up wet and frustrated, and not at all in a good way. She believed coming on someone's tongue was an activity best reserved for her romance novel heroines, never herself.

So when her legs start trembling around Cassian's head after not even a minute of calculated licking and openmouthed kissing—

"Oh— ah," Nesta stammers, hands fisted desperately in the bedsheets since she doesn't know where else to put them. The only thing stopping her from rubbing herself all over Cassian's face are his broad hands, pinning her firmly in place while he gives her what he wants.

His deep groan rumbles through her heated core, right down to her bloodstream. "There's no fucking way," he says against her folds, shaking his head. "Your fucking taste—"

At the same time his hands find hers, interlacing their fingers together, his lips wrap around her swollen clit, sucking hard.

A breathy whimper tears out of Nesta's throat as she's thrown into release, every last nerve in her body shot through with electric pleasure. Cassian keeps licking and toying at her folds, until she can feel the overstimulation all the way down to the arches of her feet. It's only then that she tries to squirm away, feeling too much at once.

Cassian relents, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, but the dark glint in his eyes says he has a new objective. "Aren't you glad you waited?" he rasps as he stands.

In Nesta's haze, she feels a tug of fabric, and then her dress is being pulled over her head. She can't remember if the bra she's wearing is a particularly sexy one, but before she can lift her head to check, it's being flung to the other side of the room to join the rest of her clothes. She doesn't even shiver, but sits up so she can grab at Cassian, any part of him—

He tries to catch her wrists before she can tear his clothes off, but Nesta isn't having any more of his waiting. Her hands dive under the hem of his sweater, his bare skin burning hot to the touch with arousal, and then he's shirtless. Her eyes rapidly skim over his scattered tattoos, not sure which one she wants to take in first as she fumbles with his pants.

"I'm going to learn all of you by the end of the night," she threatens, her focus catching on a pattern of thick black lines inked onto his ribs.

Cassian huffs a laugh at that, but the sound turns strangled when Nesta slips her hand into his jeans, palming him through his boxer briefs. He's— larger than she expected, but whatever apprehension she has quickly turns into nailbiting anticipation. This is real, she thinks for the hundredth time that night.

"You're one to talk," Cassian breathes as he lets Nesta rub and squeeze at him. He catches her slim wrist in his large hand, pulling it away from his cock despite her whine of disappointment. "I've been wanting to learn about you from day one."

His eyes narrow on a spot beneath her left tit, and he reaches out to brush the small mole there. "How many more of these do you have hidden?"

"You'll have to find them."

Cassian's gaze darkens, and Nesta can nearly feel time slowing down around them as he regains control of the pace, the tempo. Leaning forward with predatory intent, he crowds her until her back is once again pressed into the mattress. She shudders with expectation, her legs unconsciously parting wider around him. He bends his head until his breath fans over that mole, his lips about to brush it—

At the last moment, he pulls away, standing off the bed to strip the rest of his clothes off. Nesta scrambles onto her elbows, stretching her neck to get a look at his erect cock as it springs out, a furious shade of red.

She swallows roughly at the sight.

Cassian doesn't bother hiding his satisfaction at the look on her face. "Maybe it's for the best that I didn't know how much you wanted me earlier. I don't think my ego could have handled it."

"I..." Nothing comes to her mind for a witty comeback. She must look struck stupid, because Cassian chuckles, "Okay, my ego definitely can't handle it." He tugs at her legs so her elbows collapse beneath her.

Before they can do anything else, he seems to remember: "Condom."

Nesta shakes her head rapidly, unwilling— or unable— to give up even a second of the time between them. "I'm not on birth control for nothing."

Technically, she's on birth control to regulate her periods, but this is definitely an unexpected benefit.

Cassian's answering grin is both cocky and reverent before he moves. And as he crawls over her body, it strikes Nesta how far she's come to reach this place— this haven of warmth and safety. Because the last time she was in this position, she couldn't have imagined ever being able to feel like this. She never thought she could find or earn the adoration that shines in Cassian's eyes before he buries his face in her neck.

There's a kindness in his touch that takes her breath away.

"I think I fell asleep on the couch earlier," he whispers into the crook of her neck. "I think I'm dreaming right now, and I don't know how far I can take this without waking up."

Before Nesta can show him how decidedly awake they both are, her entire body freezes up as his roaming hands near the soft flesh of her sides. Muscle memory makes her abdomen clench in defense, and Cassian stills instantly, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

No, no, no! This is not the time for her body to overreact, not when she's so close to everything she's been wanting, needing for weeks. And still, her hands fly to grasp Cassian's wrists at her sides.

"Nesta?" His calloused fingers scrape against her skin, so different from Tomas's hands when they touched her. She shuts her eyes and takes a breath, trying to force herself back to that heartdropping state of arousal.

"Just—give me a moment," she promises. Her body is awake in anticipation, not of a good fucking but of being pinched and bruised blue.

"Nesta," Cassian says again, lower now. There's a hint of warning in his voice, but it's not directed at her.

She peeks open her eyes. Cassian looks deadly serious above her, and he peels his hands away from her sides to place them on the mattress instead. "What's wrong."

She clambers for something to say that won't completely kill the mood. "I'm ticklish?"

He isn't buying it, scanning her face intently for the truth instead.

It's not that Nesta doesn't want to tell him. It's that she doesn't want to tell him now, when she's already learned what an orgasm from Cassian feels like and she's been promised another one.

No way in hell will her ex-boyfriend get in the way of her first hookup since she left him. The unjustness of it ignites a frustration in her that burns away any lingering anxiety.

She places her hands on Cassian's, bringing them firmly back to her sides. Softly, she tilts her head up to peck his lips and whisper against his mouth, "You still have time to learn everything about me. I'll teach you myself. But right now..."

Her hand snakes down his hard abdomen, finding his thick length and squeezing. "I want to be fucked."

This truth, Cassian believes.

"I'll hold you to that promise," he warns before he dips his head, taking a pink nipple into his mouth and suckling hard. Nesta's damn eyes roll back at the perfection of this scene, this sensation that goes beyond physical pleasure, as he releases her nipple with a pop. "I'll learn everything." Not just her body, but her secrets, her soul, the way she breathes and feels and thinks.

What a terrifying vulnerability, yet her core tightens at the thought of it.

Cassian slips his hands beneath Nesta's thighs, supporting her as his cock finally, finally settles between her legs, pressing insistently against her slick entrance.

Nesta can't describe the sound she makes when he finally pushes into her, the luxurious stretch snapping an emotional cord in her. In Cassian, too, from the way he has to bow his head for a moment, his face pressed into her chest as they both catch their breaths.

After a long moment, he begins to move inside her at a steady pace that nearly makes her keen. Nesta can only let him grind her into the mattress, let him explore and play and touch while she writhes beneath him, head spinning so fast she's on the verge of blacking out. She couldn't have predicted such— closeness.

Clenching tight enough around his cock to make him swear, Nesta attaches her lips to the line of a compass tattoo on Cassian's bicep, shutting her eyes against the intensity of his gaze.

"Can't believe I don't have to pretend not to be obsessed with these anymore," Cassian rasps, palming a full breast. He rolls his thumb over her stiff nipple in fascination.

"As if you ever hid it," Nesta grits out, shuddering beneath him. She swallows down the obscene sounds rising up her throat. Not that it matters— her desperate panting seems to be doing more for Cassian than loud moans ever could. Raw tension laces his body as he pumps harder into her.

His thrusts hit so close to a spot she didn't know existed before now, awakening a greedy new ache—

"Lift your hips for me, baby." As if he can read her mind. Nesta arches her hips off the bed on instinct, allowing Cassian the angle to slide deeper than she thought possible, to grind against that sensitive patch of skin and fill her completely.

Holy shit. She doesn't know if she says the words aloud or not, because her face is pressed into the sweat-dampened pillow, eyes fluttering rapidly as she withstands this new immense pleasure.

Cassian's low moan tells her he knows how she feels. She's so close.

"Look at me, Nesta," he demands.

Nesta shakes her head fiercely into the pillowcase, unwilling to meet his gaze when she's strung up this tight. She might explode if she even breathes wrong.

"Open your eyes," he orders more urgently this time. His hand finds her face, forcing her to turn to him. She gasps at the next thrust, her eyes flying open to meet Cassian's dark hazel ones. The way he's looking at her—

He rubs a thumb down her cheek. "Beautiful."

She isn't prepared for the intensity of the release that barrels through her. She isn't aware of the sounds she makes as she clenches repeatedly around Cassian, hands scrabbling for a way out of this neverending rapture. It's too much, more than she can handle, and she can't—

Cassian clutches Nesta like a lifeline, his hips picking up speed. Through the last ebbs of her climax, Nesta winds her fingers through his hair, bringing him down for a final kiss. She holds him tight as he spills inside her, groaning desperately into her mouth.

Later, when dopamine floods her system and her muscles turn numb with relaxation, Nesta will think that there's a word for how she's feeling right now. She won't know what it is, though.

***

Cassian can't help but be proud of himself for keeping his cool. For not coming within five seconds of getting Nesta in his arms and around his cock, but also for not blurting anything embarrassingly vulnerable during their first time together. Or their second and third times.

Nesta isn't great with vulnerability, even now. But he's watching her try to grow comfortable with it as she traces one of his tattoos, her naked body propped half on top of his.

"I usually hate tattoos," she murmurs softly, almost to herself. "I cringe every time Feyre gets a new one. But these are nice."

Cassian glances down to where her finger points at the elaborate phoenix tattoo on his pectoral. "What do you like about them?" he asks. With Nesta, there's always a reason.

"I like their placement." She trails that finger down his chest with studious focus. "I like the dark lines; it reminds me of my coloring books." Her finger stops on a Celtic knot on the side of his ribs. "Overall, very aesthetically pleasing."

He chuckles. "Thank you for the stellar review."

She glances up at him then, those blue-gray eyes even more arresting now than the first time he saw them. He's never understood how they can be the same color as Feyre's yet so different.

"I still can't believe you walked out in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner to be here," she whispers. "What will your friends say?"

Cassian’s arm tightens around her. He's still not sure of the answer to that question. His phone blew up with so many texts and calls on the drive here that at one point he just turned it off, but he'll still have to come up with some believable excuse for his behavior.

He tries to find an answer to Nesta's question.

"I’ve known most of those guys for fifteen years," he finally says, "and I’ve only had you for a couple of months. I wanted more time with you." It's the best reasoning he can provide right now.

“Maybe I should feel bad.” He stares up at the ceiling. “But I just can’t.”

Nesta hums in thought. "You must really like me."

Cassian swallows. "Yeah. I do."

"You have for a long time, according to your words." She rests her chin on the crook of his shoulder and looks up at him. "How long? Since I first moved in?"

He thinks back to that fateful night, Nesta standing rainsoaked in his foyer with wary eyes. A turning point in his life, yes, but there was a night before that.

"Do you remember our first meeting?"

The overpriced restaurant that Feyre chose to introduce her blood family to her chosen family. The dim lighting that glanced off the silver pins in Nesta's hair, and her solemn stare as she inspected Cassian and his friends in her detached way.

Her eyes narrow, but she nods.

"I noticed you before I even noticed Feyre or Rhys," Cassian says. "You just... demanded attention. You never gave it, though. I spent all night being louder than usual, sneaking looks at you, but I couldn't even get a second glance in return."

Nesta's mouth tightens. "And what then?"

"The night ended. I forgot about you and moved on." She was like a shooting star: fascinating and beautiful for the brief moment she passed through his life, but quickly dismissed afterward. That initial impression of Nesta faded so much over the years that when Cassian finally reunited with her in his cabin, he was shocked by the magnitude of her existence all over again.

Nesta stays quiet, thinking. "You did get my attention," she finally says.

Cassian's brows raise, but she continues, "I thought you were too loud, too absorbed in your own friends to ever be worth having a conversation with. But I was just being snooty and... jealous." She looks down at the planes of his brown skin. "If I wasn't busy being comfortable in my role as social outcast, I would have thought you were kind. You looked like you wouldn't mind being my friend— that's why I noticed you. But you weren't my friend, and you couldn't be, and that's why I made myself look down on you."

Her eyes glitter when they dart back up to him, and her hand starts absentmindedly tracing another tattoo. "I do that sometimes," she murmurs. "Build a whole relationship in my head with someone I've just met, and then get mad when it isn't reality."

Cassian pulls a strand of hair back from her face. "That's called wanting to make friends, Nes. It's just that that part is usually followed by, you know, actually making friends."

She pouts adorably. "That's the part I suck at."

He can't help it. He leans forward and kisses the little beauty mark at the corner of Nesta's mouth, the mark that nearly received more attention than her lips tonight. Memories of the rest of the moles scattered along Nesta's body flood Cassian: her shoulder blade, her ribs, below her ass cheek, and that damn spot on her thigh he's been eyeing since week one. He's tasted every single one of them several times by now.

"You finally did it," he says against her mouth. "You got me as your friend and more, and now you have all those guys from school, too. You can get whatever the hell you want when you aren't holding yourself back."

She rolls her eyes, but evidence of a smile pulls at her lips. "Save the motivational speeches for my therapist."

Another thing Cassian is eternally proud of: Nesta finding a professional she's comfortable with and having her first session coming up soon.

"And what do you want?" she asks before his thoughts can trail off.

He blinks up at her. "Hm?"

She shifts on top of him to face him better. "We're always talking about my feelings and wants and needs. I don't think I've ever learned about what you want."

What does he want? He opens his mouth, but doesn't know how to answer. Shit, he's never had to answer that question. He's never been asked it.

"Take your time," Nesta assures him after a moment of silence. She's not being sarcastic.

He inhales the scent of her hair, thinking.

"You know," he finally says, "I'm always talking with my friends, and I always leave the conversation feeling like I didn't say a thing that was worth anything. Nothing serious, nothing weighty, nothing thoughtful. And it's not a bad thing, technically, but sometimes I just want to have a real conversation with them. Like the ones I have with you."

He doesn't know when he and Nesta started having those types of conversations. Maybe they fell seamlessly into it: she would ask him how to interpret different tones over text, and he would ask her about whatever legal concept or romance novel she was currently obsessed with. The topic didn't have to be serious, as long as their words were. It was the flawless exchange of intelligence, ideas, and opinions that he wasn't even aware he craved.

"What else do you want?" she says.

To not be relegated to comedic relief all the time. To be chosen first.

He boops her nose. "You've ruined me. I have everything I want now."

Nesta sneers down at him. "God, you're predictable." She's about to push off his chest when he pulls her back in, rolling them over so they're on their sides.

He tucks her head under his chin. "Nesta?"

"Hm."

"We're not gonna backpedal after this, right?"

She sighs into the crook of his neck. "No. We like each other. You're my boyfriend now." She says it like she's telling him the time or the weather.

Into her hair, Cassian starts to smile, any lingering doubts at once assuaged.

Some things you just know instantly, like how Cassian knew the minute he met Mor that they would be friends for life, or how he knew Feyre wouldn't have any trouble fitting into his family. Like how he knows now that he loves Nesta, even if he can't tell her just yet. He'll just have to keep pretending he only likes her.

***

a/n: the tattoo artist that designed the new acotar covers has some sick work so a lot of cassian's tattoos are based off their art (but smaller) :)

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn

[justkeeptrekkin]

Your Life is Golden

a ficlet inspired by my need for angst and badass Aziraphale content. 

***

“Crowley. We’ve known each other for a long time, and… no. That’s not right.”

Aziraphale steps in a puddle, and it splashes muddy water up his leg. He sighs, continues walking. “Crowley, old chum. Six thousand years, eh? Or was it longer? We’ve been through an awful lot, you know, and… no, no, no. Bother.”

He passes a shop window and catches sight of his twisted, anxious expression. He tries to correct it, looks away. Shakes his head to himself and starts rewriting his speech in his mind. 

“I’ve been in love with you for a good few decades now, Crowley, and I think it’s about time I did something about it… how about we go a little faster, after all?” Aziraphale nods a little to himself. “Not perfect, but it’s something.”

Aziraphale turns the corner opposite the bookshop, a bottle of far too expensive wine in his hand. At roughly three o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon, Soho is still busy, still filled with tourists, the smell of beer and Chinese food in the air. For the rest of the world, life goes on; for Aziraphale, the world has changed. He settles into a familiar and delicious anticipation that has always prefaced seeing Crowley, but this time, things are different. The End of Times never happened, and since then, Aziraphale has waited for the moment he could summon enough bravery to invite his friend over.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you how I feel for a while, now,” Aziraphale presses on, muttering to himself and prompting a few funny looks from passers-by. “Naturally, if you don’t want them to, things needn’t change, but…”

It’s only as he’s crossing the road that he sees that the shop light is on. 

And it’s only when he steps back onto the pavement that he picks up the lingering taste of multiple demonic auras; the footprint in the sand betraying Crowley’s recent presence. Though he’s not here any more. 

It’s when he ascends the steps to the shop door, hand poised by the handle, that dread sits on his chest and makes him nauseous. 

Aziraphale pushes open the door.

He has never had his shop ransacked before. There have been moments where he’s imagined what he’d do, if someone broke in and tried to steal anything; how far he’d go to find and punish whoever did it; whether he’d simply forgive them like he’s meant to. Worse than that, he’s allowed himself to imagine what would happen if Gabriel and Sandalophon came back, like they did during his shop launch; what would have happened if they’d simply turned around and seen Crowley, top hat and all, holding a box of chocolates.

Now, the sound of his brogues against the wooden floor sounds more hollow than it ever has before. It fills the room too much. It aches. 

He casts his eyes about the fallen books; some of them are charred. Some of the bookshelves have come down. There are claw marks in the floorboards.

He puts down the bottle of wine. The door is left open behind him, and he can hear people talking about normal things. 

Aziraphale extends a hand- a hand that doesn’t feel like his own- and sees it land on a copy of Sappho’s poetry. The pages have fallen open to one of her lesser known elegies. The fingers dance across the words like they’re scribbles, silly little pictures that no longer make sense. Crowley had bought him this particular book. His eyes turn away from the book and scan the shop, trying desperately to absorb what’s in front of him and failing. Everything in chaos. The sharp tang of sulphur in the air; demonic battle. It isn’t a smell that he’s come across in a long time. 

“Crowley,” he says to himself. 

Then, as it finally begins to settle. “Crowley.”

He steps over the shattered splinters of a table, stumbles over scattered books. He turns on the spot, looks up, around, behind and below. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for; he hopes he’ll find something that will tell him who won this fight. At the centre of the bookshop, there are more claw marks across the floorboards, little troughs like Crowley had been scrabbling for something to hold onto. 

He’d been here looking for Aziraphale. 

He breathes in suddenly, gasps like the air is forcing its way into his throat, pouring itself inside him- and he feels his hands shake. He feels himself fall back inside his body again, sees his fingers trace the claw marks, feels the jagged wood beneath his fingers, trying to reach for Crowley- too late. 

“No,” he croaks. 

Aziraphale falls to his knees and clasps his hands together, almost in prayer. He unclasps them and presses his palms together instead, poised in front of his face. And yet, there’s the ache of knowing that no one is listening. And so he runs his hands through his hair, sitting on his heels and willing his mind to think of something. But he has only ever known how to pray and hope, not knowing how to do. 

“Where are you?” he asks Crowley, asks in a whisper to himself. “Crowley, please. God, please tell me he’s alive.”

It falls from somewhere above; it falls down in front of him, tickles his face and lands on his leg. Aziraphale looks at the single black feather, picks it up and holds it like it’s alive. All that’s left of Crowley.

Perhaps you’d expect him to cry. Perhaps you’d expect him to try praying again. Perhaps you’d expect him to remain paralysed in shock, or walk out the door, or figure out a rescue plan. You’d expect Aziraphale to reason with himself- remind himself that Crowley’s wily, after all, persuade himself that there’s no way he could have lost this battle. You might wonder whether he’d fall into his old habits of staying quiet, asking no questions, or whether he’d gather up his bravery and do something. Do something, for the one being he’s loved outside the appropriate realms of angelic adoration. 

There is no miraculous plan for this catatonic mind. What happens instead is this: hope and despair and fury. Incandescent, invulnerable fury that suddenly sparks into life. Something dormant and hiding in the heart of an angel that has not been unleashed since the stars were first moulded, since the volcanoes were first filled with lava and since the first lightning kindled. Something old and deep, something that lives only in divine beings that have seen the dawn of time, something that can only be described as titanic. 

Aziraphale falls into the centre of himself. He feels himself step back and feels something else take over; not quite displacing him, not controlling him, rather covering him like a cloak. He sees its blinding light, feels its scorching heat, and he wears it. He flexes his fingers inside its gloves and rolls his shoulders against its hot fabric. Wings explode into existence; eyes open, white and burning all over his body; hot tears run boiling down his cheeks like acid. He shines all over. A perfect, blinding ring sizzles above his head, appearing slowly as condensation does from a glass on a table. He bathes in his righteous fury until everything else evaporates. 

When he stands up, his fingers gently wrap around the single, black feather. 

***

At three thirty-two in the afternoon, on the streets of Soho, people stop and stare at the wind that gushes out of a bookshop doorway like a flood. They watch as sheets of paper- perhaps pages from books?- fly out of the doors like leaves in an eddy. They marvel at the strange, beautiful, blinding light that burns through the windows. 

People in the adjacent Chinese restaurant see the windows suddenly shatter and take cover. And everyone within a three mile radius suddenly presses their hands to their ears against a terrible, ringing noise. 

A screeching bird call, an angel crying in outrage. 

***

Crowley wakes up to the sound of nothing. He knows he’s in Hell. 

He opens his eyes. Black feathers- his own feathers- scattered across the floor. His pale arm stretched out in front of him, nails digging into his palm. The taste of blood on his tongue. He groans. It’s been a while since he’s bled. 

When he breathes in, something burns. It scalds his skin and he gasps, a staggered breath that only becomes more fractured when his ribs expand and touch the chain wrapped around them. Slow, careful movements- he tries to prop himself up as gently as possible to get a better look. He sees the metal wrapped around his ribcage, sees manacles around his wrists and ankles, tastes- tastes it. It’s not blood that he’s tasting, then- it’s metal, like a horse’s bit between his teeth. He’s chained to the wall like a feral animal. 

He’d like to say that it’s overkill, but he knows how frightened Beelzebub is of him, now. 

He rolls his tongue underneath the bit, tries to swallow- it hurts. His throat is dry and every breath struggles inside of him. The manacles dig into his wrists. But none of that hurts like the chain around his bare torso, his shirt stripped to reveal his pale, almost-translucent skin and the burn marks from adamantine. Crowley pants, teeth clenched against the bit, and stares wide-eyed at the red sores; stares in amazement and confusion and horror and eventually, acceptance. Because adamantine only burns angels. 

Well that’s new, he thinks. Aziraphale really has been rubbing off on him, it seems. 

The heels of his boots kick against the dusty floor. His cell is small, bare, dark. There are bars and a little post-box shaped hole in the door, like this is a pale imitation of a Hollywood movie set. 

He growls. They’d known. They’d waited. They’d somehow known that he’d decided to surprise Aziraphale by swinging by early; he’s just that fucking predictable. His dedication and loyalty to an angel, his puppy-dog pining for Aziraphale so blatant that they’d waited for him there and ambushed him. Hastur, Ligur, Beelzebub- the three of them cornered him and they fought, really fought tooth and claw, for the first time since the Fall. 

They’d torn his wings. 

They’d thrown him across the room. 

They’d dragged him across the floor like they were auditioning for Paranormal fucking-well Activity. 

“Azzurghs,” he tries, the cold metal in his mouth flaking and sharp. Bastards is what he’d been going for. Then, “Azzuruhuh.” Aziraphale. It just comes out a pained whine.

His back meets the wall. His head knocks against it. He casts his eyes up at the ceiling. 

God. I’d ask why you’ve forsaken me, Crowley thinks, but I’m getting pretty used to it.

***

The people of London go quiet all at once as they feel the Earth shudder. 

That moment of dread and confusion- the incomprehensible scale of whatever is coming, whatever’s out there on the prowl suddenly dawning on them. People in meetings stop mid-sentence, feeling the vibrations under foot- they look through the window down at the streets below. Tourists on the London Eye peer through the glass, seeing a blinding white light across the river. Children splash in puddles, see the water tremble with the footsteps of something huge. Pub-goers stare at the shattered remnants of their pint glasses. The ringing in their ears has subsided, but the anguish of it is still echoing in their head. 

Something’s out there. Something’s hurt. And it’s fucking angry.

***

Time in Hell runs differently. It isn’t just slower; it loses meaning. After all, time is angel-created. It’s something that brings order to the universe, something that contains chaos and makes everything just a little bit more organised and tidy. Something like that has no place in Hell. It’s therefore hard to know just how long Crowley’s been lying on the floor of his cell, adamantine burning his skin and bones aching. Dust in his throat. Eyes closed. 

He’s grown soft. No- not soft. Brittle. He’s become fragile, something hollow and aching and desperate to be filled with validation and love and attention and everything that Hell isn’t. It’s made him foolish, made him someone who waits. Like a dog at the door. When will they come? 

What’s worse, though, is that it’s not Beelzebub or Hastur or Ligur that he’s waiting for to walk through that door. It isn’t punishment that he’s waiting for in particular, even though God knows that’s what he should be used to by now. Trained to expect pain after waiting, alone, long enough that he begins to wonder if they’ve forgotten about him. Yes, even though he’s been trained to live like this, they’re not the ones he’s waiting for. 

When will he learn that Aziraphale won’t come? 

***

Even if he does come, it’s always when it’s too late. Crowley reminds himself of this, as he considers Aziraphale possessing Madam Tracy. It was only after he’d pushed Crowley away that he’d come back. And-

Well. Obviously Crowley’s forgiven him for that. Forgiveness; that’s one of the only angelic characteristics he has left. 

***

Aziraphale could come.

Endless time swims around him in a fog; Crowley has been lying on the floor, waiting, hoping, for some indefinite stretch of no-time. 

And Aziraphale could come. That part of him fights back- the same part of him that runs after Aziraphale time and time again, the part of him that saves books from burning ruins and begs for Aziraphale to run away with him. No matter how much Hell try and kick him down, no matter how many times Aziraphale proves it wrong, that little bit of hope always flickers back into life. 

It’s pathetic. It’s all Crowley has right now.

***

He hears his rattling breath and feels something wet on his cheeks. His wings have unfurled at some point, too exhausted to keep them in. They’re tattered and tired, draped across the floor.

***

There had been one afternoon recently, after the apocalypse. It had settled on them that they could be together without the weight of impending war sitting on their shoulders. So, they’d decided to be a little frivolous and go for a day out. 

Aziraphale had suggested the beach. Crowley had shrugged, closing his eyes in resignation behind his sunglasses. “Fine,” he’d sighed. Anything for you, he’d thought. And they’d hopped in Crowley’s Bentley and rolled down the windows, plummeting down the motorway towards the South West coast. Lulworth Cove was meant to be busy that day, the warmest day of the year so far, but he knew it would be quiet. Crowley had willed it so. 

Crowley had kept his eyes on the road, the white lines streaking till they blurred, the bad local radio station chattering in the background, soon to turn into Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy. Aziraphale was smiling so much that day. Aziraphale smiled in so many ways, and that day it was like the first: angelic and beatific, the way God had smiled the day She created the world. Maybe it was because he saw the world laid out in front of them, ready for them to live it in a way they’d never been allowed before. Maybe he was just in a good mood. Either way, Crowley had found it impossible not to stare. 

The wind had rushed through the rolled-down windows, and once they’d hit the country lanes, Aziraphale poked his arm outside and let the air pull through his fingers. Crowley had watched him close his eyes and smile again, that smile. 

“We could live like this forever, now,” Aziraphale had said. “You and I.”

Crowley had driven and known that that moment was important. Like initials carved into a wall, that moment would stick around with him. 

You and I, Crowley thinks now. Is it so naive to think you’ll come for me?

***

The ground shakes beneath him. There’s the sound of demons and poltergeists and incubi screaming down the corridor, outside his prison cell door. 

Crowley’s eyes snap open. 

There’s a screeching sound. It’s not anything demonic; he’d thought it was at first, but that was before he realised he could hear it inside his head. No, it’s something far too- far too something to be demonic.

Furious?

Hurt? Righteous?

It’s a sound that frightens him. It makes his heart stutter and his feathers ripple nervously. His pupils are dilated in the dark, but they narrow at the sound, fight-or-flight response kicked in. Something’s coming; something awful, something that Hell hadn’t prepared for. And just for a moment, the relief of that chases away the shadows in his mind. 

The sound of demons screaming, louder now, mixing with the ringing in his ears. A thud, as something- someone, more likely- is thrown down the corridor, landing close to Crowley’s door. And-

Oh, God. That light. It burns and it soothes all at once, it pours through the cracks of the door, stretching out towards Crowley like it’s searching for him, trying to bring him into its embrace.

The door falls from its hinges.

Crowley scrabbles up onto his knees. He hangs his head, turned away from the light, his hands splayed on the floor. Then he hears his voice in his mind. 

Crowley. 

The light doesn’t burn anymore. It’s like a switch is flicked and the anger in it simmers down; still there, oh yes, it still bubbles beneath the surface. But what Crowley feels overwhelmingly in that moment is not anger, but something kinder. The bright, shining feeling of his smile. 

He dares to look up. 

From his knees, prostrate on the floor of Hell, Crowley beholds the light of a star poured into the vessel of a human. The shape of Aziraphale, covered in bright, wide-open eyes and wings that encompass the room. They curve around him, like that very first day at Eden. And Crowley turns his head to watch them surround his broken body, a sunflower following the orbit of the sun. 

He looks back up. Cannot look away; there is something about that light that is less like the sun, and more like the moon. Fascinating, hypnotising, calming. And he gazes into the pair of eyes in front of him, the pair that he knows, with blue irises, watching with love. 

There’s something else in those eyes, too. There’s love, and there’s also something destructive- something frightening, something he hasn’t seen since the days of the Old Testament. Something that threatens floods and plagues for anyone who stands in Aziraphale’s way. 

A scalding white hand reaches to touch Crowley’s face. He closes his eyes, and feels only a soft warmth. Soft. Just as Aziraphale always is, even like this.

My dear, he hears inside his mind. 

His mouth suddenly feels empty. The bit and the chains are gone. 

“You came. I wasn’t sure,” he laughs sadly. 

The hand on his cheek grows warmer, almost uncomfortably hot. Aziraphale doesn’t respond- out loud, or in his mind. He doesn’t need to. Crowley feels it in the heat of his hand, feels it pouring under his skin; that they are on each other’s side; that Aziraphale will never sit by and watch ever again; that he will always come. 

He feels it in the press of Aziraphale’s lips against his.

The ground fractures beneath them. Hot air meets cold air, rain meets sun, and water meets hot oil. The room shudders with it. Hell vibrates with it and Heaven feels it, too. Two sides coming together, the order of the universe disrupted. 

God smiles when She sees it. 

And perhaps it’s because Crowley’s been awake for what might be weeks in here. Perhaps it’s because he’s been waiting for Aziraphale to come for him, to save him like this for millennia. Whatever the reason, Crowley suddenly can’t keep his eyes open. He feels himself relax into Aziraphale’s arms, inside the cocoon of his wings. 

He holds onto consciousness and feels himself being carried through the seven circles of Hell, over purgatory and back home. 

[nekomasmngr]

unwind

➳ synopsis: You wanted to be warm more than anything. After a rough day at work and the bitter weather that seemed to cloud your mood, you couldn’t wait to get home and shut yourself away from the world. But, as much as you yearned for warmth, that wasn’t the only thing you needed today.

➳ genre: slice of life, comfort to fluff, established relationship between you and Suga!

➳ warning: just in case, there are mentions of being overworked and exhaustion, fidgeting behavior, self-deprecating thoughts, signs of an upcoming breakdown, post timeskip!suga, patient and loving suga <3

➳ word count: 3.861k

➳ a/n: here’s my sfw secret santa gift for @bugmomwrites !! this was a joy to write and i think i have a thing for writing long one shots for suga and i’m really glad you enjoyed reading this! posting this on record cause im quite proud of it hehe (っ◔◡◔)っ

Warmth. 

That was all you had in mind. It was all you needed. 

Feet were being dragged as you trudged along the side of the road. Adjusting your form that was bundled up in layers to trap your own body heat. Yet, every step you took, every breath you released; warmth just kept escaping you. 

Your mind felt so muddy. You fidget and flex your fingers to try to keep them from freezing stiff from the brisk blow of the cold air, yet you had your attention recalling the events that occurred earlier in the day: the mistakes, the slip ups, and the lectures you got from your ever so judgemental inner critic. You’ve probably spent most of your energy making sure to get through the day as best as you can even if it meant feeling more overworked and exhausted than usual. 

Today wasn’t kind to you at all. You just wanted to warm yourself up with a nice bath, maybe order in some pizza and pig out on some ice cream, close the blinds on your windows and turn up a good sob story, maybe even cuddle up with your fluffy blankets and pillows—

A sharp buzz from your pocket pulled you out of your thoughts of relaxation, with a text from Sugawara that read: ‘Hey bubba! how was work? I’m almost at your place! can’t wait to see you!’

Oh no. 

It was date night with Suga. 

How could you forget?! 

Suga’s job at the elementary school demanded a lot of his time and attention. You, being the supporting girlfriend, didn’t want to be a distraction or an added burden to his job. So, you both agreed to focus on yourselves for the meantime. But, you both also decided to dedicate a night, once a week to see each other again— hence, date night.

Knowing the holidays were coming up, both of you had been assigned more tasks that usual, as the year comes to an end. Days were long and nights were lonely, weekends would be filled with other demands and unfinished deadlines. The time spent apart couldn’t be more evident that it was now and this night would be the first date you would have in weeks. You wouldn’t deny it— you missed Sugawara desperately. 

You started to think of what you both could do for date night. ‘Would he want to go out for dinner? Maybe see that new movie that was just released last week? Hm, or maybe we could catch up with some of his old friends, it is the holidays after all. Oh no, I have to change my clothes. Maybe put on a nice dress? But, it is colder at night, maybe some dress pants? Ew, that’s like going out with work friends.’ 

Your thoughts were running through every activity you could do and all the other things you needed to do to prepare for the date. An overwhelming burn rose inside of your chest, bubbling up with a mixture of excitement, panic, and nervousness. 

Another gust of wind blew through your face, biting your cheeks and nipping your nose. You were instantly reminded of the earlier weight you just had on your shoulders. The exhaustion you still felt made you think of how much energy you had already lost and how much you would have to use to get through tonight. It would take too much energy to entertain someone today, even if it was your boyfriend. 

You frowned for even thinking of cancelling date night. What kind of girlfriend would you be if you did? He might think you’d rather not spend time with him at all or worse, he might think you believe that both of you started to drift apart. 

You were slowly feeling more irritable at the different thoughts and little noises that just irked you more than they should. If you had to see Suga today, you definitely didn’t want to accidentally snap at him. Your head started to get dizzy as you kept thinking whilst fighting off your fatigue. 

Inside, you knew you missed Koushi so much. Just seeing him would probably make you feel better, with that smile of his that always brightened your day. However, you couldn’t ignore your aching muscles, the crick in your neck and the stress on your back. Your nerves were on fire and all you really wanted was for it to stop.

It seems as though your thoughts held your attention ever so fervently, because next thing you knew, you were standing right outside the door to your apartment. 

With a sigh, you squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath before jamming your key into the door. Stepping inside, you were greeted by a deafening silence. 

You had some coats and jackets strewn across your common area. The weather had been getting chillier lately and you had different articles of clothing available to you if ever you needed the extra warmth. A few knick knacks, memorabilia, and picture frames decorated the walls and shelves. The slight mess was homey to you. It made the place look alive and lived in, but right now it was an unearthly empty apartment. Something didn’t feel right. You didn’t know what it was, but the walls didn’t hold the warmth you yearned for. 

Frustrated at your dissatisfaction, you took a straight path to grab a glass of water that would hopefully clear your head. 

In the middle of your third glass of water, a knock at the door sounded. 

You flinched at the sound. Suga.

You mentally kicked yourself for getting distracted. You were so preoccupied with your own thoughts and feelings, you completely ghosted your own boyfriend. If only you had better focused and weren’t so bothered by every little thing that did bothered you; you would actually be a better employee or a better significant other— just someone better that deserves love. 

Dejectedly, you put down your glass and timidly inched towards the door. Opening it to meet soft doe eyes that looked at you in anticipation. Suga started out with a simple greeting and a bright smile that slightly put your aching heart at ease.

“Hey,” you replied, giving him a small smile in return. 

Entering your apartment, he started to get comfortable as you always allowed him to do so. Taking off his coat and putting down his bags, he turned to you to start the night’s activities. But you cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” your eyes casted down on the ground, both of your hands coming together to fidget with your fingers. 

“Oh, for what?” 

“I didn’t reply. I—,” with hesitation, you bit the inside of your cheek at how ridiculous you must have looked with your weak excuses, “I had a rough day and I’m just really…” Everything suddenly came rushing back to you: your thoughts of self-criticism, your slip ups at work, the cold that prickled your skin, the wasted time you spent on being preoccupied with your own thoughts, your tiredness and headaches—  all the things that seemed to drive you to your limit. 

You sounded silly with your struggle to form words without getting choked up by your exhaustion. You shut your eyes tightly to try to reset your mind and say what you wanted to say straight. 

Suddenly, gentle arms wrapped around you as you were pulled into a warm embrace. 

“Hey, hey. It’s alright.” A familiar hand rested on the back of your head and soon you rested your forehead onto your boyfriend. “It’s okay, there’s no rush, love.” 

Time seemed to stand still as you took in every bit of reassurance that spilled with his every word. Suga immediately saw your inner battle as he was attuned to most of your quirks and habits. He knew you just needed someone to hold you close. 

Unlike the present, most days, you would be filled with so much energy, just bouncing around, talking about the most random things. Bright smiles, heart-filled laughter, and matched chaotic energy exchanged between the two of you. 

You could easily ease up the most stressful days of work, where he’d come home tired from teaching the kids and administrative work for the school. But as soon as he saw you, all his exhaustion seemed to turn into more energy. You’d be so eager to listen to every word he would say about his day and he’d be just as happy to tell you all the cute little things the kids did— any sign of his own exhaustion had disspelled.

But of course, there are the days when you would be just as exhausted as he would be on those days, if not more with all the extra energy you spent trying to keep yourself together. Perhaps, today was one of those days. 

Tender lips pressed on the crown of your head. You felt soft movement against your skin as you heard your boyfriend’s kind words, “Is something wrong?”

You deeply sighed into his chest, your breath expelling heat that warmed the both of you. Shoulders and back muscles instantly relax into his strong arms. Your head slowly motions into a nod, but you don’t quite want to face him just yet. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

You bit your lip and buried your face further into Suga’s chest, shaking your head. 

He smiled at how adorable you had become and piped out a suggestion, “Hmm, how bout a nap first?”

You turned your head to look up at him, but your eyes shifted away as you saw his soft gaze. “But, date night…” you trailed off, not knowing how to say that you didn’t want to cancel on him. 

“It’s okay. You need to rest first, okay? We can talk later, but right now, take as much time as you need.”

Keeping an arm around you, he led you to your room and stopped at the side of your bed. Your own arms instinctively wrapped around your form to trap the leftover weight that lingered from the absent arms. 

“Do you need anything else?” Sugawara asked, fluffing up your pillows and opening the bedsheets up for you to slide right in. 

You took his hand and tugged him beside you; a signal for him to take a nap with you. 

As comfortable as you may have looked, with your head on his chest and your arms wrapped around his middle; your body didn’t fully relax just yet. You didn’t usually feel this shy when cuddling with Koushi. In fact, being vulnerable with each other was something you loved most about your relationship. But, there are still days when you would retreat into your own shell, when your mind kept up with your racing thoughts that only ever burned at your tired heart. 

Smooth thumbs ever so gently rubbed on your shoulder, pulling you out of the tension you were holding yourself hostage. Like a silent knock of permission, you were reminded of his overwhelming presence; the absolute love and lack of judgement that you would always be reassured of. No amount of shame, guilt, or sadness that you might feel would ever be hidden from Koushi. Just as he could never hide something from you. 

Trying to steady your beating heart from the rush of emotions that just went by you in such a short time. You slowly focused your mind on what's happening now, at that moment. 

With plush covers enveloping you, head resting on your loyal pillow and your favorite part— warm arms that led to careful hands. Suga dragged his palms slowly from your shoulder to your head. 

You felt gentle fingertips push against the middle of your brows, unaware that you had furrowed them in an attempt to make sense of your thoughts. 

“You can go to sleep, love.” Sugawara whispered, with a voice so soft and deep it was like a lullaby to your heart. With a last hum, you acknowledged his words and focused on the steady beat of Suga’s heart that hushed you to sleep.

Cold.

That was what you awoke to. 

Sitting up from your nest of blankets, you pouted at the absence of your boyfriend from your side. Stretching out your limbs from your position, you heard satisfying cracks from aching joints that have been stiffened for what felt like hours. Taking a glance at the clock on your nightstand, it had been a little over an hour since you were sent off to sleep in the sweet arms of home. 

Raising your nose into the air, you gave a whiff of something utterly delectable. Muffled sounds of padding feet and subtle rustling of metal, you suspected someone was in the kitchen area. With the thought of the mystery that was happening outside of your room, your stomach grumbled loudly as to add to the equation. 

As you entered your small common area, you were fixed on a familiar head of fluffy grey hair that seemed to float across the living space. Your boyfriend was carrying a couple of plates and glasses and arranged them on top of the placemats and utensils that rested on the low coffee table. All that was missing was the food.

Wondering if you had just imagined the earlier scent of delight, a couple of paper bags that were placed near the floor of the couch caught your eye. You perked up at the size of the bags and the likelihood of the great amounts of foods and snacks that could be inside. 

As if on cue, Sugawara greeted you with a shining smile that struck a good light into your soul. “Good morning, sleepy Bugs!” He walked towards you and gave you a sweet peck on the cheek. “How was your nap?”

“Um, it was good,” slightly suprised from the amount of affection you had just been given and from the sight before you, you remember feeling rejuvinated after that nap he suggested you take. “It was really good.” 

After having rested, you definitely felt better than you did the whole day. Suga definitely grounded you when you needed it the most and gestures like that never ceased to warm your heart at how he knew you so well. 

Fixiating your gaze on your boyfriend, you observed him unpacking your favorite foods from their packaging, placing them neatly on your dishware. 

“What’s all this?” You gestured to the set-up he had laid out on your coffee table. He gave a little shrug and looked up at you with a small smile, “I figured you would be hungry once you woke up, so I got us dinner.”

He was right once again. Your stomach cried at the sight of your favorite foods spread out infront of you.

“And since, it’s still date night. I thought we could just have a little self-care date just here.” he said as he motions to his little dinner party layout; both of you would be seated on the ground, with backs against the couch facing the television, fresh food on both your plates, a couple of bags of chips and soda on the side. It was comfy and casual, but seemed just perfect for the two of you. 

With a blanket on his lap, Suga looked up at you, head held high in anticipation of praise and a smile that lured you to sit by his side. 

“You sure you don’t want to go out?” you asked just to be sure. Your eyes locking on his, analyzing any hesitation or disappointment he might have over having to have to stay in on date night.

“Any moment spent with you is a date to me already.” He admitted with a grin. Your face scrunched at the sound of his affectionate line. You snorted until you both let out a laugh at how cheesy that sounded. “That was too cheesy, even for you.” You smiled at him. 

He whined at your tease, but quickly pushed your plates to yourselves eager to dig into your meals. 

As you ate, you conversed about what he had planned for the night, thinking of the time he must have spent devising this lovely impromptu evening. 

“We could watch a movie together,” he offered, “maybe do some skin care, what do you think of that?” 

“Skin care? You want to do that?” 

“Yeah! I want the full experience! I wanna get a fluffy headband to pull back my hair.” As if to show proof, he excitedly shook his head, making his fluffy grey hair bounce around. 

“I want to know about those uh, face washers?” he thought for a moment, turning away to take a peak at another paper bag that you didn’t notice before. “Or was it face masks? You know, to bring a little glow to the skin.” Suga said as he brought out some sheets of face masks that he must have bought when you were sleeping.

You almost awed at the sight of how enthusiastic and prepared he was. But, it was nothing unexpected of your boyfriend. Any spontaneous antics you would come up with, he’d support it either way, whether it was a surprise visit at each other’s work areas or a 2am drive to the nearest 24 hour fast food restaurant for a ridiculous craving; it was always something exciting with Koushi.

After a second to think, you answered honestly. “Yeah, we could do that. My skin’s feeling a little dry lately.” 

Immediately thinking of the other products you had that the two of you could use, but curious eyes pulled you from your thoughts as Sugawara studied your face, “Oh yeah, it does.” He leaned back and nodded, “You might need the whole treatment more than me, Bugs.” Taking a bite of food, he put on a classic innocent smile, but that could never fool you. 

How cheeky he had become all of a sudden. You groaned at his little act of mockery and gave him a sharp shove on the shoulder. 

The little joker lurched forward, spilling his food back on his plate, “Oi! I could’ve choked on my food!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, do you need some prune juice to water it down, old man? ” you retorted back at him. 

The night continued on with your customary jokes and teasing. As Sugawara planned, after your dinner, you were both seated on the couch, swaddled in your comfiest clothes and blankets. Headbands clearing any stray hair away from each other’s line of sight, as fresh face masks adorned your gleeful faces. 

It was refreshing to not have to worry about what happens next and how much energy you had to spend to act as though you were enjoying. It all just came so natural with Suga. You didn’t have to keep up a facade, like a professional one at work, thinking over each task and mistake you inevitably made and repenting for it. 

Tonight was just about the two of you. Addressing each other’s needs and soaking in each other’s genuine presence. It was a slow day, nothing extraordinary, but it satisfied you both to know the security you felt in each other. Feeling as though you were both constant in each other’s lives, especially in this age of uncertainty. 

As the night came to a close, you both retreated to your earlier position. Limbs entangled with one another, the comforting beating of each other’s hearts slowly tuning in sync. You both haven’t quite fallen asleep yet, having felt the air fill up with unsaid thoughts and yet, none were uttered as a blanket of silence covered the entire room. 

You didn’t know how long you both just laid there, but you remembered feeling the dancing fingers that were playing with your hair, halting its movements. Followed by a light poke on your cheek which brought you out of your own trance.

“Hey,” Koushi chimed in, “we forgot to do one last thing.” You hummed as you turned your head expectantly at him. 

“But we don’t have to do it, if you don’t wanna talk about it okay?” You nodded in agreement, paitently waiting for his next words.

“We haven’t talked about your day yet. How was it?”

Ah, you knew this was coming. Sugawara would never let you go to sleep without acknowledging both the good and the bad things of the day. Having spent a good 4 hours on your date night, ignoring the bad and recharging your emotional battery, it seemed like a good time to bring up what bothered you. 

In a way, this was something you were grateful for. Recounting the events of the day felt easier to talk about  now rather than how you would have expressed them earlier that evening. Allowing yourself to understand the bad things in life validated those rush of emotions you felt which didn’t seem as muddy as it was before. Which is why you would always be grateful for Sugawara for being who he was. Knowing that he knows how you work made you feel special, made you feel seen by someone who was a witness to all of the different parts of you. 

As you end your cathartic narrative, you gave your boyfriend the softest of smiles that hopefully showed how thankful you were for being able to have a safe space for your emotions.

He mimicked your look and added, “I know it’s sometimes hard to admit these kinds of things.” His smooth palms took your hand that was on his chest in the softest of grips, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. 

“But, you can always talk to me about them, alright?” 

It was in the way his eyes glowed along with the moonlight that spilled in from the window, hinted at something deeper than just ‘these kinds of things’. Trust seeped out from his gaze and into yours as you understood his real message that Sugawara meant. That he was here for anything; anything you wanted to say, anything you wanted to do, and anything you felt like—

He was here for you. 

Sugawara wrapped both of his arms around your frame for a firm embrace and poured every reassuring emotion into his hug. Making it known to you that you can always count on him to be there for you. 

Basking in each other’s arms, you savored in the overwhelming soothing warmth that you both shared. A knowing inkling chimed at the back of your head bringing to light the earlier encounter with the unknown missing presence after having entered your empty apartment.

Warmth was missing.

More importantly, Suga’s warmth. 

This was all you needed to unwind from the worldly chaos that you go through everyday. It is in his arms where you feel the safest and it’s a place you wouldn’t want to leave anytime soon. 

His actions today showed you how attentive and dedicated he was to you. Pure love and care was all that you felt while being with him today and you believed in him to be there, with just as much love and care (if not more), in the days to come.

[puckngrind]

What’s In a Name: 1 - J Toews

Summary: Bekah heads to the 2015 All-Star game in Columbus where she meets Jon.

Warnings: mentions of break up, swearing, smut

Word count: 3205

Series masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Numb.

Numb was the word Rebekah finally landed on to describe her state of being. She knew it wasn’t grief. She felt that emotion rip through her soul in waves when thinking of her grandfather who passed away two years prior. This wasn’t that or pain and she knew it.

Her boyfriend of the last four years walked into their shared apartment two days after Christmas in 2014 as she was cleaning up the holiday decorations dancing to the N’Sync Christmas album. He announced he was done with their relationship and moving in with his coworker that night. Rebekah had convinced herself that this man was the one she would marry and spend the rest of her life with. Now the cold, numb feeling she felt said maybe that she willed herself to the feelings of wanting to be married and the thoughts of marriage was not due to the actual love she thought they shared.

“You need to eat Bekah.” Brynn shoved eggs and bacon in front of her face. “And we are going back to your place today to remove the asshole’s presence from it. Got it, Bekah?” Her best friend’s hand landed on Bekah’s in that mom kind of way. To be honest, Brynn was kind of like a second mom. She was older but the two hit it off from the moment they met. Brynn was in accounting and Bekah in marketing at a same firm in Columbus, Ohio. They were work wives if you asked those who interacted with them the most.

“Thanks Rin.” Bekah was the only person to call her a nickname which was a running joke since Brynn’s name was chosen specifically because it did not have nicknames. Of course, Bekah found one and Brynn secretly loved watching her mother flinch when she heard it used.

The two headed over to the Bekah’s apartment after breakfast. “Maybe I should just move? Break the lease?” The realization that she would never feel at home again started settling in as she watched Brynn pack up the pictures from over the fireplace and moved towards bedroom.

“You can come live with us until you find a new place. Derek mentioned it in bed last night.” Brynn and Derek were the cutest married couple Bekah knew. “Plus the team is on a roadie so we can have the house to ourselves to burn things if ya want, drink wine, and of course, eat Jeni’s.”

Derek was a trainer for the Columbus Blue Jackets. He traveled with the team which Brynn sort of loved because she could host nights in when he was out of town but hated that he was gone so much. Bekah knew she hated to be alone but would never admit to it. There was a perk Bekah enjoyed from being friends with Brynn and Derek. She was always the one who went to games with her bestie. While Bekah wouldn’t call herself a die hard fan, she loved the atmosphere of the arena. Hockey was something that amazed her for a multitude of reasons. For starters, the way these giant men skated so gracefully while all 5’7” of herself somewhat athletic self could hardly stand on ice skates. Then they hit pucks and opponents so impressive to watch.

“You just need to get back out there.” Brynn handed Bekah a glass of wine while settling into the couch to watch the last game of 2014.

“I don’t know Rin. I kinda think I need to be alone for awhile. Find myself or whatever.” Bekah sipped her wine and took in the game.

“I’m sure Derek could introduce you to one of the single guys on the team.” Brynn nods to the television. “No strings attached there. You know most of them go home for the summer.” Brynn giggled as she watched her best friend’s face contort.

“Holy shit Brynn! No. NO! Talk about awkward. And they are either married or way young, right?” Bekah barked out.

“Well the ones I’m thinking of are all 21 or older...and maybe you just need to get under someone new, that’s all I’m saying.”

“And a pro hockey player is your solution? Like they would even give me the time of day.” Bekah pulled at her french braid then shoved her empty hand deep into her hoodie attempting hide her insecurities. “I’ve been single for what, five days, friend. I don’t need anyone new right now.”

“Well you should see the way some of the boys look at you. Boone comes to mind.” The gasp out of Bekah’s mouth was enough for Brynn. “When you are ready, just let me know.” She eyed her best friend then dropped the topic for now.

January brought a new chapter. Bekah found a place she loved and swore off men for the near future.

“You are coming to the All Star things with me. Derek already got you an all access pass so you cannot say no. He only gets two.” Brynn announced the week before the All-Star break. She tried to convince Bekah to go with them on vacation but Bekah was already feeling like the third wheel in the few weeks since the breakup and said no.

“That sounds fun.” Brynn’s mouth dropped open when Bekah didn’t fight the announcement.

The city was buzzing and finally felt like a hockey town. Bekah picked Brynn up and the two fluttered around the arena district before taking in the activities on the concourse then headed below to go see Derek. The amount of people in the tunnels was crazy but soon the two found Derek. Bekah pointed to a place to meet and wandered off while the couple spoke.

“So are you related to a Jackets player?” A deep voice boomed above Bekah’s head.

“Huh?” Bekah turns and looks up at the tall, handsome man decked out in All-Star gear. She noticed a 19 on his sweatshirt meaning he was a player.

“Your shirt makes me think you are a Columbus fan and since you are down here...I’m assuming you are a relative. Am I wrong?” His serious face cracks into a slight smile.

“Oh! I’m friends with the trainer.” Bekah replies finally pointing into the sea of people.

“Nice. I’m Jon. And you are?” Jon places his hand out to shake Bekah’s hand. She places her hand in his.

“Rebekah. Bekah to most. Nice to meet you.”‘ she looks up into his dark brown eyes. “So, which team do you play for?” She moves her hand out of his and flicks her finger up towards the number.

“Blackhawks.” Their conversation quickly turning into Chicago and how each enjoyed the city. “Well, Beks, I have to go. Can I find you later?” Jon winks while touching her forearm slightly and she nods feeling her cheeks turning pink before he walks off towards the locker room.

“Oh. My...GIRL!” Bekah hears Brynn almost at squeal level as she turns around. “You were just talking to Jonathan...eekkkk!” Brynn does a little dance and her words become incomprehensible.

“He’s nice.” Bekah smiles looking around to see if he’s in view.

“And single!” Brynn coos.

“Don’t Rin.” She gives Brynn a death glare and that just stop look.

“I’m not...just stating a fact. Let’s go find our seats.” Brynn grabs Bekah’s hand and leads her back up to their glass seats.

The skills competition went on and Bekah noticed every chance Jon got he skated towards where she was sitting. He’d wink or nod and then skated back. Just a little “Hey, I see you” before returning to his captain duties.

“I’m not saying anything but I see you two.” Brynn leans into her best friend. Bekah can feel the heat in her cheeks spreading and with his next stop in front of her she tightened her thighs together trying to will away the way he made her entire body tingle in just how he looked over at her. “Let’s head down before the crowd gets up!” Brynn announced at the last commercial break. The two got up and headed down to meet up with Derek.

“So is there a good place to get a drink around here besides my hotel’s bar?” Jonathan leans down into Bekah’s ear making her heart skip a beat and her body jump. “Sorry, did I startle you?” Brynn’s glowing recommendation of him as well as the way he spoke to her caused Bekah to say yes to drinks at a bar around the corner.

Drinks led to standing outside his hotel room. “Jon.” Bekah grabbed his wrist with a confidence she didn’t think she possessed. His gaze moved from the door to her hazel green eyes. “What are you expecting when we go through that door?” His lips pressed together then curled into a smirk.

“No expectations. Promise. Just come in.” He easily broke her grip and wrapped his hand in hers leading them through the door. Bekah wasn’t sure she knew hotel rooms this large even existed in Columbus and she takes in the space and including the large window where she can see the city lights dancing off the Scioto River.

“I’m pretty sure this is larger than my apartment.” She finally slinks out of her jacket and looks over to where Jon has disappeared in the bedroom.

“You live alone?” He comes out pulling on a t-shirt and Bekah catches the gasp is her throat with the glimpse of his abs.

“Uh, yeah. Fuck. Yes. Sorry. Recently dumped.” She fiddles with her hair and looks for the closest chair before her legs give out.

“I’d say I’m sorry about the break up but I’m not.” Jon places his arms on either side of the chair Bekah just sat in flexing while leaning in. “His loss...my gain.” He presses his lips on her forehead before retreating to the couch across the sitting room. “So what do you do for a living?”

“Marketing. I’d ask you but...” Bekah giggles feeling herself relax while looking up at Jon’s serious face. “I do have some questions about your job.”

“Open book.” Jon opens his hands to a motion her to continue.

“How long have you played in the NHL? Same team? Like your captain?” The line of questions made Jon crack a smile.

“Started in 2007. Always with the Blackhawks. And his nickname is Captain Serious.” Jon pulls his lips together like he does in interviews and looks over at the gorgeous woman who seems to be processing the information.

“Captain Serious huh? Sounds fun.” Bekah crosses her legs cursing her body for the feelings pulsing throughout. “How often are you in Columbus?”

“Once a season. We only play them twice. Played them in December and then they play in Chicago in March I think.”

“Nice. Well, I think I’ve sobered up enough and you have an All-Star game tomorrow.” Bekah abruptly states and starts for the door. Jon quickly catches her hips and stops her dead in her tracks.

“What just happened there? We were talking and then your shoulders wiggled and you announced you are suddenly leaving.” Jon holds Bekah firm in his grasp. His gaze moves from her soft dark golden brown locks framing her face to her eyes which told him her actions and her desire were fighting. Lightly pushing Bekah’s loose hair behind her ear he looks deep in her eyes. She blinks trying to stay focused on her thoughts that she was leaving.

“I don’t know. My heart tells me one thing and my body is telling me another. And my mind says I should kill Rin for even taking me tonight.” Bekah looks down and notices how close their bodies are.

“Who’s Rin?” Jon pulls her body even closer.

“My best friend. Redhead I was sitting with. Her husband is the trainer, Derek.” Bekah breathes out.

“So that’s who I have to thank?” Jon runs his fingers over Bekah’s arm and across her collarbone pulling her chin up to look back at him. “I won’t make you stay but I also don’t want you to leave. No expectations is true. We also can do whatever here tonight and then you don’t have to see me again if you don’t want to.”

“One night stands aren’t my thing...well...actually I’ve never had one before but I’m assuming they aren’t.” Bekah’s admission makes Jon laugh which she feels throughout her entire body.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be a one night thing...and I’m not a one night stand person either Beks. Can I kiss you and start from there?” Jon’s thumb runs across her cheek and he feels the twitch pulsating from his briefs.

“Yes.” Bekah hardly spoke before Jon’s lips were on her’s and she deepens it as she stepped into him placing her hands in his chest clutching at his shirt. His hands coming up and holding the small of her back and the cradling her neck. She felt him growing between their bodies. Breaking for air Bekah huffs out, “How do I turn you on?” The admission was self doubt about how average looking she felt and how damn sexy he was.

“Beks, you are fucking gorgeous!” Jon kisses her again and she shakes him off. “No really. Distracting as hell when I was trying to be a captain of the team tonight. Please tell me you aren’t sitting that close tomorrow. My team needs to win this thing.”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Bekah fumbles on the words before Jon’s lips were on her again.

“Yes, and I’d like to show you how gorgeous you are if you just stay.” He starts shuffling their attached bodies towards the bedroom.

“I’m not doing the walk to shame tomorrow.” She starts moving her feet with his.

“You can borrow sweats so I’m guaranteed to see you again.” With that Jon placed her body on the bed. “Now can we get rid of some of these clothes?” His finger tips run along the inside of the hem of her sweatshirt. The slight nod she gave him was enough for him to discard both of their shirts. He made his way down to his knees pulling her jeans off slowly leaving Bekah in her light blue matching bra and panties. The sight made him jump into action. “Fuck you are even more beautiful.” She bats her eyelashes at the compliment.

“You are very...very....fit.” She runs her hands down his abs and he chuckles. “Handsome. Well both. Damnit I’m bad at this. I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t and don’t be.” Jon pulls her leg up and kisses down to her knee pulling his sweats off with the other hand. Her eyes widen when she sees how stained his boxer briefs are. “See. Definitely doing something right.” He nips at the meaty part of her thigh and she flops her body on the bed. “Does that mean I can continue Beks?”

“Yes.” She places her hands over her face as Jon’s fingers pull at her panties moving them down her legs exposing her core to him. He kisses back up and lands on her clit. Bekah moans out of the relief and Jon laughs while moving his tongue to elicit more noises out of her. His fingers slide in and curl causing Bekah’s hand to fly up into his hair.

“Tell me if you don’t like something, m’kay?” He pulls up to move her legs onto his shoulders and her body further into him.

“It feels amazing. It’s just been awhile.” She admits as he continues his pumping in and out while scissoring his fingers to stretch her out.

“We’ll go as slow as you want. Promise.” He kisses her clit again and sucks causing an orgasm to rip through Bekah’s body. She moans out his name and he moves away.

“Don’t stop. Fuck. Don’t stop.” She lifts up to look down at him. Face glistening and a look of accomplishment from how quickly he was able to make her come unglued.

“So maybe not that slow.” Jon returns to licking through her folds and is stopped by Bekah’s hand tightening in his hair.

“Can you...I don’t know how to...never mind.”

“No, talk to me. Sex is better when you talk. Where to you want me?”

“Inside of me. I want you up here.” Bekah feels the heat returning to her face as she made her request. “Unless you want me to...” she eyed his briefs again as Jon stands.

“No, I definitely want to fuck you now.” He climbs onto the bed and pushes both of their bodies up the bed freeing himself of the last piece of clothing. “May I?” He pulls at the strap of her bra and Bekah arches her back to allow him to pull it off with easy. Kissing her breasts and then her lips Jon grunts. “Ready?” He leans up as she nods for him to inch into her core. Bekah’s back arches as Jon lowers himself inside. She would never admit to anyone how long it’s been since she’s had sex and it felt so good to have his weight on top of her. Bekah wraps her legs around him and Jon finds a rhythm that makes both of them moan with each thrust. Then it happened. Both reaching their highs in unison. A slew of swears mixed with praises drop out of Jon’s lips then he collapses on top of Bekah.

“Wow. How did that happen?” Bekah huffs out while her fingers run across Jon’s sweaty shoulders and across his lips.

“How did what happen?” Jon’s chest moves in and out trying to even his breathing.

“We...together...” she breathes out.

“You’ve never climaxed with someone? Together?” Jon pulls up and takes in Bekah’s blissed out yet confused look.

“I’m just gonna shut up now.” Bekah’s hand flies over her eyes.

“No. Remember, sex is better when you talk. And we aren’t done.” Jon moves her hand and flexes his abdomen sending shock waves through Bekah’s body.

“So, no.” Bekah whispers. “I’ve never orgasmed at the same time as my partner. That was amazing feeling. You are amazing.”

“You are too. Trust me. Fucking amazing.” His lips ghost her skin as he rolls off of her. “Beks, so good.”

“You are the only person who has ever called me that which is funny.” She kisses the top of his head as he rests on her chest.

“Yeah. Why is it funny?” His fingers walk down her hip.

“Because I do the same thing. Make up nicknames for people.” He laughs at her admission. “Rin for example is Brynn. I’m the only person who calls her Rin. Not even her husband calls her anything besides pet names and Brynn.” Jon feels Bekah’s body relax and he smiles.

“And do I get a nickname then?” He kisses her stomach.

“Maybe. It’s more of an organic thing. With time.”

“More time. I see. Then can you come back here tomorrow too? After the game?” He looks up at Bekah.

“Yeah I guess that would make this not a one night stand, huh?” Bekah’s lips turn up and Jon laughs loudly.

“Yeah.” He rolls her over on top of him. “Definitely not one at all.”

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 26 - Irrational

“Oh thank the Twelve, you’re coming to.”

Blinking your eyes, you feel like you’ve been floating in space and have finally come down to earth, your limbs feeling heavy after being suspended in zero-gravity. You’ve been passing out too much lately you think, circumstances be damned.

Milky eyes that belong to a powdery face come into focus, Merlwyb the picture of worry as she calls for a doctor to check on your condition.

“Chief Merlwyb?” you cough, a glass of water held in front of you before you can even ask, Merlwyb slipping a straw inside and gently holding it towards your face. Mumbling a word of thanks, you take a sip, the water refreshing and quenching as you nearly down the whole cup until Merlwyb draws it away.

“I think you should slow it down. From what I understand, they were having to reintroduce you to food.” Merlwyb murmurs, setting the cup down on a nearby nightstand. Taking a look around you’re back in the same makeshift sick room within Cid’s mansion, IV hooked up to your arm as it pumps you full of whatever is in the bag attached to it. The doctor shows up soon enough, giving you a quick once over as she makes sure you’re on the mend.

As the doctor asks you a few questions, you notice Merlwyb looking incredibly guilty, wondering if she really feels so bad you had gotten captured. Surely she can’t be beating herself up over that?

“And if I may ask,” the doctor begins but Merlwyb holds up a hand gently.

“If it is alright with you doctor, I would like to speak to my officer about this alone.” Merlwyb interrupts, the doctor giving a nod of understanding, saying nothing more as she exits the room. Turning to you, Merlwyb’s fists are clenched tightly in her lap, and you get too worried to keep your peace.

“Is everything okay?” you ask with a broken laugh. “I mean, I know it was scary, Varis locking me up, but I’m okay. I’m okay.” You grin, reaching out to try to console her but she jerks away. “Chief,”

“Do not call me that.” She bites out, the harshness of her voice shocking you. A little hurt, you begin to question what you could’ve done to warrant such a flip in her attitude, until you see she is shaking with unshed tears, liquid pooling in the corners of her eyes as she finally gains the will to meet you eye to eye. “Do not refer to me with such respect after I’ve failed you so catastrophically.”

Confused, you shift to try and sit up a little better. “Chief Merlwyb, what do you mean? I thought we went over all the risks at the start! We knew that this would be a dangerous job,”

“The job would be dangerous, yes! But never would I have made you become pregnant with that bastard’s child!” She cries, tears finally running down her face. You sit in perfect stillness, unsure what to say. Faced with the reality of having to explain that you were not only pregnant with Zenos’ child, but that you didn’t even feel bad about it. When Varis had revealed that same fact to you, you didn’t even care.

“We sent you to simply try and catch his son in the act. To give us any kind of proof of illegal activity. Only to realize too late we had put you in that monster’s hands!” Merlwyb sobs, clutching your hands within her own. “When I had said that you must protect the mission at any cost, I never meant that you had to bear Varis’ child. That you would have to accept him forcing himself upon you.”

Eyes widening as you see the cause of her grief, you fumble to try and find your right words. “Chief, I...did the doctor,”

“The only one that knows is myself and Cid. Cid is busy preparing other avenues to try and handle Varis.” Merlwyb grumbles, over the worst of her crying. “He was appalled to learn of this, he had--”

“Please, please, stop right there.” You groan, sick at the thought of if things really had gotten to where they assumed they had. Taking a deep breath, you fix Merlwyb with a guilty look of your own. “Never would I have guessed the famed Annihilator to be a crier.” You joke weakly, watching as she seems to lighten the tiniest bit.

“Strong I may be, but I am not immune to the suffering of my officers.” She sniffs, rubbing your hands with her larger ones.

Looking at your hands joined together in your lap, you struggle on what to say next. “While I’m...glad you feel such concern with me...things didn’t get that far. Not with Varis.”

Brows furrowing, Merlwyb shifts closer to you in her seat. “What do you mean?”

Breathing deeply, you try to get everything out in one breath. “I will not deny it. What led to me being locked away was actually due to Varis trying to force himself on me.” Saying it nearly makes you throw up, tilting your head back as you take calming breaths. “He had drugged me with a substance mixed with aether rendering me unable to move. If his right hand man hadn’t shown up when he did...then he would have--” You nearly throw up again, having to keep the bile down as your body breaks out in a cold sweat.

“You don’t have to talk about this.” Merlwyb consoles, rubbing your back gently.

“No. Because I need to...I need to explain.” You sigh, feeling weary already. “What I’m trying to say is, Varis only tried to force himself on me before he locked me away. And...if my math is right, I should be a month or two along.” Placing a hand on your stomach, you rub it gently. “It’s not his.”

A mix of relief and worry passes through Merlwyb’s face, standing to her feet. “Thank the Twelve it isn’t so. I must tell Cid,”

“It’s Zenos’.” you cut off before she can even leave your side.

She stops in place immediately, shocked by your words as much as you are having said them. To put out in the universe you are carrying the child of someone you once thought a monster.

“Honey…” she whispers, sitting by your side once more. “Honey, did he,”

Shaking your head furiously, you refuse to meet her surely judgemental gaze. “No. I...it was consensual. Multiple times. I…” swallowing your fear, you press on. “I was so stressed from working for Varis, my health suffered. I stopped taking supplements, vitamins, and my birth control. I had met with Zenos that day when Raubahn died and one thing led to another.”

As tears leak from your eyes as you finally give voice to your shame, you still cannot bear to face her scorn. “I tried to hate him. I tried to hate him for so long, but he…” you sob, wiping furiously at your tears, “he’s the only one that understands me. The only one who’s strong enough, the only one who makes me happy. I didn’t even blink when Varis told me I was pregnant with his kid, I didn’t even feel sad. How fucked up am I for falling for him?!” You laugh, the sound broken and mangled. “I’m a failure to the mission, Raubahn would be ashamed--”

Merlwyb crushes you in her arms, ceasing your downward spiral. She says nothing, merely holding you tightly as your tears catch in her shirt, clutching you tight as she buries her face in your hair. “Honey...no matter what I better not hear such self deprecating language from you ever again.” She whispers, stroking your head softly. “Raubahn would be proud. You’ve survived. You are alive. And that’s all we ever wanted. For you to come home.”

“But I--”

“No ‘buts’.” She interjects, pulling away to give you the stern look you had known her for. “Not to throw him under the bus, but Cid had already filled me in on your entanglement with his bodyguard and Zenos respectively. I can’t lie that at first I was alarmed, but when he recounted all the trauma he had known you had gone through, how he could see you warp and change...I could not think to hold it against you. And neither would Raubahn.”

You weep thankful tears at her words, a weight lifted from your shoulders at her comfort. You embrace each other once more, wrapping yourself in the comfort of simply being held, knowing you both have been through the wringer these past few days.

Merlwyb notices your eyes begin to droop, promising to see you again when you wake up next. She would go off to find Cid and relay what you had told her in a calmer, less emotional fashion, sparing you the risk of potentially triggering yourself. You allow yourself a few more hours rest, drifting thoughtlessly as you have the most restful sleep you had in what had apparently been weeks.

Two weeks had Varis managed to stow you away, Cid and Merlwyb knowing something was wrong when they hadn’t heard hide or hair of you in two days. The phone Cid had given you had been confiscated and destroyed, giving them no idea on how to find you. They had been sick with worry with no way to find out what happened until Zenos had showed up on Cid’s doorstep in the dead of night, demanding that you be saved. Cid had immediately called for his personal doctor to begin treating you, bringing you to the present.

Even while you rest, your thoughts are too tumultuous to let you sleep long, the steady drip of your IV and the light buzz of the alarm clock on your nightstand your only companions when you wake. It is a few hours past midnight, the mansion quiet, but in a good way unlike the Galvus estate. There’s just enough white noise in the halls that gives a comfortable ambience, a home that is lived in, prompting you to drag yourself out of bed and into some slippers to walk a bit to maybe tire your mind a bit to go back to sleep.

Forced to drag your IV pump around with you, you shuffle down the hall, enjoying the peace as you let your feet aimlessly wander. Though you know Cid was prone to all nighters if he was knee deep in a project, something tells you he’s fast asleep. Making your way downstairs you enjoy the calm of his mansion at night, slipping past the many doors as you struggle to not bump your shin into any unsuspecting furniture.

As you pass through the living room, you hear grunting, looking through one of the many floor to ceiling windows to spot Zenos outside, running through his practice routines. His golden hair now looks to be made of spun ivory under the moonlight, muscles flexing with every movement as he swings his sword through the air. Each strike is precise, measured as he hones his skill, a fierce determination on his face as he snarls his frustration.

Heading to the sliding door, you gently push it open, the warm night air soothing you instantly as you stand in the doorway, watching him quietly. You’re surprised he’s yet to notice your presence, too focused on whatever he’s thinking about to catch you watching him. Leaning against the doorframe, you’re content to watch how his body flows effortlessly through each stance, dressed in his usual workout attire, clinging to him like a second skin.

It is only when he spins does he take note of you at the door, uncharacteristically startled before a shadow of guilt darkens his features. Frowning, you move to join him in the yard only for him to give you a look that promises retribution if you move from your spot at the door. “What are you doing here?”

Tutting, you stand up straight. “From what I heard, you brought me here.”

“That’s not what I,” he pauses, turning away from you for a moment. “I meant what are you doing outside? You should be inside, resting.”

“I was trying,” you grumble, stepping out onto the manicured grass, dragging the IV pump along uneven ground. He turns to you once more, unable to meet your eyes. “I couldn’t sleep, probably because I had spent the past two weeks being made to sleep. My body’s quite sick of it, I think.” You joke lightly, coming to stand before him.

He still won’t meet your gaze, which is strange in and of itself. Creeping closer, he shifts away and you frown, trying to peek under his fringe of hair. “Zenos? What’s the matter?” you ask, reaching out for his hand but he jerks it away.

“What do you want?” he snarls, eyes furious. Though you begin to get angry, you take a step back and look at the situation. Though your memories are hazy, you can remember his desperation to get you out of that facility. His worry at seeing you look so frail and weak. The guilt you had seen once he had realized you were there--

He was scared.

Lowering yourself to the ground, you can’t help but laugh a little at how he casts his sword to the ground while reaching to catch you in the same motion, uncaring of where his blade ends up. “I’m not dying, Zenos. I’m not falling apart.” you sigh wistfully, motioning to the ground for him to sit next to you.

Pursing his lips, he seems to debate between picking you up and carrying you back inside, versus giving into your whims. “You’ve not seen the horrors of my father’s experiments.” He answers instead, lowering himself to the cool grass to your side, one knee bent with the other leg extended before him. You relish in his slight intake of breath as you shuffle to be closer to him, leaning upon his warmth. It’s not too cool out, but the furnace that is his body isn’t unpleasant. “But I suppose for that, I am thankful.”

“I’ve not. And I’m glad I didn’t.” you murmur, relaxing immediately from his presence alone.

The two of you are quiet, Zenos stiff as if he does not know what to do with this nearness from you. “I...I’m glad I had found you in the condition I had. I had feared the worst.” he admits, which coming from him, is no small feat.

Gazing up at the moon, you rest your weight fully upon him, his arm naturally coming to support you and hold you close, almost as if on instinct. His hand seems unsure where to place itself, so you help by gently coaxing it to sling around your waist, linking your fingers with his. “He had told me so many horrible things. He told me how awfully he would treat you.” you murmur, satisfied to stay just like this.

“What did he tell you?”

His voice is guarded, cornered. Scared.

“He told me...that he forced himself on your mother.” You answer, unable to look him in the face.

He tenses then, skin heating before you tighten your grip on his hand, hearing his deep breaths behind you as he calms himself down. “The story the public knows is that my mother passed away due to sickness. Only a select few know the truth.” His voice is far away, distant, as if lost within a nightmare. “After all, it’s not really palatable to have it leak out that your father had threatened to have your mother killed if she tried to run. That when she felt she had no option left, she had killed herself.”

Gasping, you turn in his arms to look at him, finding nothing but an emotionless gaze staring back. You can see the truth in his eyes, a pain so guarded and so deep that you wonder if this is the first time he’s told anyone else. “Zenos,”

“After all, wouldn’t you do the same? Would you not burst into hysterics upon looking at the child you not only had forced upon you, but were also forced to bear?” he laughs humorlessly, as if the joke is tired and worn out, the punchline having lost its kick.

You wonder if he can hear your heart breaking.

“Zenos,” you whisper carefully, reaching with both hands to cup his face, feeling its warmth but a cold expression is all you get in return.

“I do not need your pity.” he snips, though he makes no move to push you away. “I’ve had my share of it. And for what? It would not bring my mother back. Not that she would want to stay anyway. Not when she gave birth to a monster.”

Tears pool in your eyes at his words, wondering how much he had of this locked up inside, and for how long?

How long had he not known love?

One of his hands reaches up to dab at a tear trailing down your cheek, frowning as he does so. “Why do you cry? I told you I didn’t want your pity.”

“I’m crying for you.” You murmur, turning in his hold to be on your knees, crowding closer to where he parts his legs more to give you room to sit between them. “Because you’ve not had the chance to do it for yourself.”

His lips part at that, emotions of all kinds warring on his face before he settles on anger. “You are a fool if you think that would change things.”

“I’m not trying to change things you idiot!” you whisper harshly, not wanting to yell and potentially wake anyone up. “You come and save me from being experimented upon by your father until I die and you don’t want me to show you I’m at least a little grateful? When I had started to believe that no one would come for me and you carried me out in your arms?”

“Sweet words won’t excuse your cowardice.” he growls, trying to pull away. “That even after you apologized, you had gone running back into my father’s arms.”

“For you!” You snap, clutching his face desperately.

Confused, he shakes his head. “What do you--”

“You think I would go back to the asshole willingly?” you seethe, begging him to understand. “That me, a cop, would want anything to do with his desire to be a dictator? To remember the good ole days of imperial rule?” Despite your earlier reservations, you raise your voice with every question. “Do you know how much it hurt to be apart from you? To see the betrayal in your eyes as I left your side for no other reason than to try and take your father down so you would be free from his influence? To fall for you--”

Your words catch in your throat, unable to take them back. The two of you only stare at one another, wide eyed and frozen as your unsaid words hang between you, wishing you could simply disappear. Zenos is solid as a board and your heart sinks, releasing his face as you begin to stand. “I should get back inside,”

He pulls you back to him forcefully, not letting you flee back to the safety of your room. You try to tug away but you’re still too weak to fight against his might, huffing and puffing for him to release you as you try to run from the shame of your actions. “Let go of me,” you whine, resisting his touch as he wraps his arm around you like a vice, refusing to let you go anywhere.

The rough pads of his fingers urge you to face him as you squirm in his arms, not wanting to face him, to face your feelings. “Honey.” He breathes, finally getting you at a suitable angle to press his lips to yours, ashamed at how easily you melt in his arms. He deepens the kiss, full of all the passion, the emotion you now know he’s capable of, threading his fingers into your hair as you rest your hands upon his chest before looping around his shoulders.

The kiss is all passion, all affection, all possession as your tongues dance together, as teeth nibble each other's lips, as you breathe each other's air. You fall into him just as easily as you did the first time, wondering how on earth did you get here? It is only when he feels you crying again does he pull apart, dabbing gently at your tears with an indescribable emotion upon his angelic features.

“You would run because you’re afraid of what you feel for me?” he asks, holding you as if you were made of the most delicate glass. The same man who had no problem flipping you over his back, grappling you like a wrestler, was now cradling you as if you were the most important thing in the world to him. “I have never run from how I feel for you, even if I cannot understand it. I have only wanted you. It can only be you.”

“You don’t get it!” You sob, pounding your fists on his chest. “I love you, you idiot! I was sent to try and take you and your father down and look where I am! I fell for you instead, I’m having your ch--” you stop yourself once again, afraid of what he would possibly think.

“I do not know love but I do know I would have no other. Is that not good enough?” he asks, desperate to understand, and Twelve above you wish he did. Perhaps he loves you in his own way, but there’s so much of him that needs healing, so many bad habits he needs to break before you could truly be by his side. It occurs to you only now that you looked at him through rose-tinted glasses, seeing nothing but the happiness he brought you, and you alone.

A child brings new questions into the mix.

Would he treat the child the same way he treated you? Would he fall into the bad habits of his father, having no good example of how to be a parent? Continuing a cycle of abuse because he had never known love? Would he train that child for the sole purpose of becoming stronger, unsatisfied until either of them fell in battle?

Deep down you knew you were being foolish, but fear overcame reason as you kept your eyes shut tight, crying against his chest as he held you. It was such an irrational fear, one you were completely self aware of, but that did not stop you from crying, nor did it stop you from falling into his embrace as he kissed you once more.

You are no stranger to Zenos’ touch, though you are a stranger to how gently he treats you as you recover from being detained by Varis. Only with your permission do you allow him to visit, except visitation is not satisfactory. He all but moves into your room, seeing to your needs during the day until he goes about his own business before returning to you at night. He’s always there to bring you your meals, sitting in comfortable silence or making light conversation, making you remember just how much you loved him, until he reminded you just how much you needed to run away when this was all over.

You only wish he knew how hard he was making it for you.

There wasn’t a need of yours that wasn’t seen to by Zenos personally. Whatever you wanted to eat, he went and got it. If you wanted to walk around, he was the one to pull your IV pump along, leaving you free to simply stretch your legs. From fluffing your pillow to simply being a warm body to hold at night, there was nothing he would not do for your sake.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

As you recuperated and strength once again flowed through your limbs, he turned into your physical therapist, helping you stretch your muscles and make you limber enough to fight again. He would only spar lightly at your request, making you feign exhaustion so he didn’t feel angry for making himself hold back. Naturally you made sure to avoid all blows to your abdominal area, flowing like water around his strikes, taking a more defensive approach, which you thought would make him angry.

It had the opposite effect. It seemed to only make him want you more, pursuing you like a man possessed, fucking you into the floor until your voice was hoarse from crying out his name.

This is how I got here in the first place, you grumble to yourself, walking with him to meet up with Cid and Merlwyb on another part of the estate. There was hardly a day he was not by your side, something you did not mind after spending so long apart, but you began to think it strange considering the circumstances. Varis had to be wondering where he was. But if Zenos was not worried, you figured you shouldn’t be either.

Reaching the conference room turned “briefing room”, you give a small wave to Cid and Merlwyb who greet you in return. “You’re looking better by the day, Honey. I’m glad to see you’re making a recovery.” Cid welcomes, standing from his chair to come give you a hug. You return it with equal measure, glad to have people on your side. “Please sit. We haven’t been waiting long.”

Nodding, you pull a chair out from the table, not at all surprised as Zenos takes a seat in the one directly next to you. “I’m sorry to delay everything for so long.”

“Your recovery was paramount, Honey.” Merlwyb speaks up, giving you a serious look. “You have shouldered so much of this upon your back. There is no way we could ask you to put your life on the line anymore than we already have.”

“But I want to. I want to take him down.” You insist, refusing to take no for an answer. Merlwyb looks ready to argue but Cid quickly interjects, physically leaning between the two of you.

“Easy there, ladies. We’ve got a common goal, and let’s just look at the facts before we start making plans.” Cid offers in the interest of neutrality, slowly sitting back down in his chair. “We’ve got quite a bit of information to catch Honey up on anyway.” He sighs, reaching for a remote and turning on the mounted TV. The screen is paused with Varis’ face on it, a news ticker reading “Varis Unveils Revolutionary Technology”, your heart immediately sinking.

“This has been on the news for nearly two weeks. Yes, it’s exactly what you’re thinking. Varis has revealed his ‘discovery’ of aether upon your capture.” Cid grounds out, clicking on the remote to start the clip. It is silent, but the clip continues to play, allowing Cid to speak. “It’s been a nightmare since. I’ve been called by more news outlets than I care to remember asking for my response.”

Sadness creeps into his features as he watches the TV with a forlorn expression. “As I had told you, my father’s laboratory had burned down, leaving me with no physical proof that it was he who originally discovered aether. All I have is my word against his ‘proof’.” Banging his fist against the table, he runs his hands through his hair. “It’s infuriating.”

Clicking the remote a different press conference plays on the TV, Varis showing off different bits of technology powered by aether. "He's got the public in the palm of his hand. Everyone's dazzled by the power of aether, but of course only we know the truth. We know that aether is not to be messed with, that it is dangerous and more powerful than we could possibly comprehend." Cid explains, tapping his fingers against the table. "I've considered trying to make my own sample, to show what a volatile resource it is…"

"We already discussed this Cid. Absolutely not." Merlwyb interjects. Their interaction comes as a slight surprise. Merlwyb was Cid’s senior by barely a decade, but within the past month they became fast friends. "Varis has already tried to take your life once and is already so sure of his victory that he's content to leave you alone for now. Let's not give him reason to try and take you out."

Nodding grimly, Cid turns back to you. "As you can see, we've got our hands tied. Varis is, if anything thorough, making it hard to plan any sort of move. We're running out of time."

Gnawing your lip, you find yourself focusing on what Merlwyb had said. "If...do you think he would try and target Lord Hien?" The room is completely silent, and you don’t know if it’s because they find the notion preposterous, or they wonder how the thought has never crossed their mind. “I mean, clearly Varis has to think he’s nigh untouchable now. He’s attempted to kill Cid once without facing any consequences. He successfully killed Raubahn and forced Merlwyb into hiding. Don’t you think…?”

Cid drags his hands over his face, heaving out a dry laugh. “Nymeia save me, I think you might be onto something.”

“But Cid, why would he need to kill Hien? The election is so close, he’s already done so much to make himself look like the ideal candidate. What more could killing Hien do for him?” Merlwyb questions, posing some good points.

“An easy win.”

The three of you turn to Zenos who has remained uncharacteristically quiet this entire exchange. “Honey has been around my father long enough by now to understand how he thinks. However, as his son,” he grounds out, “I have intimate knowledge of how his mind works.” Shifting in his seat, he sighs. “Before he had stopped telling me of his plans, he thought himself untouchable; he had evaded you all for decades.” He explains, looking pointedly at Merlwyb before his gaze shifts to Cid. “And the only one who could ever bring any evidence against him had no physical proof, nor the courage to say anything.”

Giving a frustrated sigh, Cid turns once again to the TV. “I can’t deny that. My own cowardice has allowed this to go on for as long as it has.” Cid murmurs, fidgeting with the remote in his hand.

“And if he were to kill Hien, who could stop him?” Zenos asks, glancing around the table. “The Chief has been killed, and the only other ‘good cop’ remains hidden for her own safety. Who is next in command to take Raubahn Aldynn’s place?”

You gasp, turning to Zenos. “Ilberd.”

Shrugging, the heir goes back to looking bored once again. “With his longtime supporter at the head of police, it would be no problem to have Hien’s death look like nothing more than an accident even if he shot him point blank on national television.”

“Twelve above…” Merlwyb whispers, burying her face in her hand. “Decades worth of planning. Decades worth of moves. I had always suspected Ilberd, but on this large a scale…” Gasping, her eyes widened in horror. “By the Twelve, he has the entire police force under his control. If he wins the seat, he would have an entire army--”

The room is silent once again, the three of you processing the scope of Varis’ plans. When he boasted of his intellect, you had thought little of it, knowing that like any businessman he was educated, but to be so thorough, to make the right connections, to plan this far ahead…

Clenching your fist, you stand to your feet. “We have to save Lord Hien.”

“I don’t disagree, but--”

“But what, Chief Merlwyb? I refuse to have another person die because of that bastard!” Your chest is heaving, Cid looking surprised at your outburst while Merlwyb maintains her composure, giving you a knowing look.

“Honey, please calm down.” She urges, reaching across the table to place her hand atop of your own. Something silent passes between the two of you and you take a few calming breaths, sitting back in your seat. “If you will allow me to finish, what I was trying to say is that this is not something we can go into guns blazing. We are dealing with a man who knows how to run circles around the law; this I know well. We will have to make a plan that is fool proof and draws no attention to us.” Her eyes turn to the heir sitting by your side. “Especially now that we’ve got his son on our side.”

At that Zenos fixes Merlwyb with a hot glare. “And where did you get the notion that I would be assisting you in any way, shape, or form?” Zenos asks, his voice even and neutral, but you can see the rage within his eyes.

“If you are not helping us, then why have you stayed here, Zenos?” Cid asks sternly.

“Is it not obvious?” Zenos scoffs, eyes upon you. “My only focus has been, and always will be Honey. But even then…” Something haunting passes through his eyes, seeming far away before coming back to the present. “...even then I could not aid you. I cannot go against my father, but I will no longer aid him either.” Standing to his feet, he prepares to leave but you snag his hand, giving him a pleading look.

“Zenos...I,” you begin, unsure what to say. “We could use your help.”

Shaking his head, he tugs his hand free and continues on his way, saying nothing else. Your heart breaks that much more to see him go.

Stewing in your thoughts a bit, you find yourself a bit hurt at Zenos’ refusal to take down his father, but try to think about it calmly. Given what he revealed to you, that his own mother did not want him, saw him as a monster, who knows what psychological damage had been done to him to make him unwilling to raise a hand against his father?

You’d make a point to ask him about it later, but for the time being, you needed to make a plan. “We’ll have to carry on without Zenos. He’s not against us, which is almost the same as being on our side. Trust me...if Zenos did truly serve his father and Varis had kept me hidden, the only being who can take Zenos down, Varis truly would be unstoppable.” Cid and Merlwyb nod grimly at your words, having no other choice. “Do we have any way of contacting Lord Hien?”

“I have his number due to working with him for the...rally. The only problem is he’s surely seen my funeral and thinks me dead.” Merlwyb answers, flipping through her phone.

“In that case, perhaps Cid can give a call, especially since he has the technology to make sure it isn’t tampered with.” You direct, having taken the lead. “We’ll call Lord Hien and apprise him of as much information as we can. If I have to go in and make the rescue myself, then so be it.”

“Absolutely not.” Cid interjects, eyebrows pinched together. “I will not have you shouldering this entire operation again. Besides, if you’re not familiar with Lord Hien, he’s got an excellent shadow of his own I hear. Yugiri, I believe her name is. What she lacks in your sheer strength she more than makes up for in stealth. In fact, she just might be our ticket to get Lord Hien to safety.”

Unfortunately, Lord Hien has other plans.

Cid contacts Hien as promised, relaying as much information in as little time as possible. Lord Hien expresses his concern and guilt for the recent happenings, and due to the credibility of your accusations, hears you out.

However, he will not escape.

“But Lord Hien,”

The three of you are seated in the same conference room, staring at the TV screen where current Kugane Prime Minister, Lord Hien sits staring back.

“I understand your concern, Mr. Garlond,” Hien pauses, handsome face deadly serious. “But this would be a terrible time to abandon the public. I would go as far to say that my sudden disappearance would only usher Varis into his seat faster.”

Biting your lip, you can’t deny he’s right, but still you worry. “But we can’t let him get to you either!”

“Do not worry for me, my friends.” Hien smiles, as if all will be well. “I did not say I won’t take safety measures. I will remain out of the public eye, and stay hidden with those who I know are loyal to me. These past few years as Prime Minister have allowed me the opportunity to gain many allies.” Hien explains calmly, pausing to take a sip of water. “This will also allow me to help you behind the scenes as well.”

“While we appreciate your aid, Lord Hien, this entire operation is contingent on you living. Will you not reconsider coming into our custody where we know we can protect you?” Merlwyb asks, sounding as strong as ever.

“The operation does not revolve around me, my friends. It revolves around Varis atoning for the crimes he has committed against the people.” Hien frowns, threading his hands together. “He has murdered civilians he is desperate to rule over. Lied and stolen from his constituents. While Kugane needs a good leader, yes, it does not have to be me.” Smiling, something about him makes you wish you knew that kind of calm. “While I appreciate that you want me to remain in my seat, what matters most is his crimes coming to light and being locked away for what he’s done.”

Unable to argue against that kind of logic, you merely stand from your seat. “I understand. I need a moment of rest, so if you will excuse me.”

Not stopping to hear what anyone has to say, you flee from the room, allowing your feet to carry you anywhere within the estate.

Lord Hien either put too much faith in you, or he was a fool.

His certainty that all would be well, that things would work out, where did it come from? You could see his appeal, a confident, easy going charisma backed by an unwavering sense of justice, of doing right by the people. All the things that Varis lacked, that would make Hien the ideal candidate for Kugane.

But he was right. No matter how ideal he was, what mattered most was making sure Varis did not come into power. Even if it meant Hien somehow died in the process.

It was a tough pill to swallow, that Lord Hien was so okay with being a willing target so long as Varis was brought to justice. It made you feel as if his life was in your hands, a deeper part of you whispering to trust in his words, that he would do his best to keep himself safe.

Coming to a stop to a door leading outside, you step out into warm, summer air, feeling the grass between your toes. Days like these did wonder for your mood, making sure you made a point to keep as much stress off of you as possible. With everything going on, it was hard to do, but Merlwyb had aided in that department, making sure you kept your temper in check for the sake of the child growing inside of you.

The thought of getting rid of it had occurred to you more than once, to simply rid yourself of all the “what ifs” and “maybes” and be done with it. But each time you did, you found yourself weakened by the thought of being able to give your child everything you didn’t have. To raise her with the same love and adoration in which Minfilia had raised you.

When this was all said and done, you would have plenty of time to make your escape. Perhaps you would flee to Eorzea, make a new life and name for yourself there. You doubt Zenos would care enough to spend time to track you down on another continent, making it the ideal place to start anew. You could get a new home. You could find a new job.

You could continue running away from the best thing to ever happen to you.

[in-tua-deep]

Snippet

In the end, it’s really Klaus’s fault. Or perhaps fault is too strong a word, but Five is quite unused to good things happening by coincidence rather than having to fight for them and cling to them with every fiber of his being, until he makes them reality through sheer stubbornness and a refusal to accept the usual shit life throws at him. And Five loathes to give Klaus credit, because it was technically Five being spiteful and twisting an innocuous comment into an idea. 

But still, it probably wouldn’t have happened without Klaus.

It goes like this: the Hargreeves are trying. Their family is a broken mirror, they can’t just fix the cracks but they can at least make it so that the jagged pieces don’t draw blood. So they’re trying to sand down the edges by building their family back together from the ground up.

It’s hard work, considering none of them actually know what a family is supposed to look like. But - Luther lets Vanya pick a record to play, and Allison asks Klaus to paint her nails, and Diego shows up at odd hours to raid the fridge and let Grace fuss over him, and Five - 

Five feels too small in this world of walls and ceilings and excess. He looks in the mirror and sees a face too young and skin too smooth for all the hardships it went through. He feels terribly young and terribly frightened because the world seems to operate on a list of bizarre rules that no one ever taught him and that change at a moment’s notice. He feels old and worn and paper thin and tired and he can’t bring himself to admit that he wasn’t actually expecting to survive stopping the apocalypse.

Five is a mess of contradictions. Too old and too young. Lethal yet fragile. Too experienced and too innocent. 

But he’s trying. He is. He doesn’t say anything when Klaus makes a face at his food and scrapes his green beans into the bin. He only snarls a little bit when Allison pulls him into her quick hugs, pressing a kiss against his hair before she swirls out the door with all the grace and glamour that she only pretended to have as a child. He doesn’t steal Diego’s knives after the first time, or escape out the window when Luther pulls out a documentary on black holes with a hopeful look. 

He carefully doesn’t flinch when Vanya wears white.

He also doesn’t protest when someone finds a brochure for a ‘camping retreat’ and decides it should be the next big Hargreeves family activity, even though he definitely thinks of a few points that might even get his siblings to think twice.

Honestly, Five thinks it might even be - dare he say it - fine. 

(Five already sleeps on the floor of his bedroom, tucked in the front left corner where he isn’t immediately visible if someone comes in the door and where he has a clear view of the window. It’s also in a blind spot right below the cameras that, once upon a time, Reginald Hargreeves installed in every room of the house because privacy is something afforded to people, not possessions and Five has never deluded himself about what category the children fell into.

The bed is soft and foreign and Five kind of a little bit hates it. When he lays in it, he feels too small for his body in a way that makes his eyes itch and his breath catch in his throat. He lays in it and can almost feel the suction cups against his forehead and the fear that only ever caught up to him when he was on his own.

He was on his own for a long time, in the apocalypse.)

So the Hargreeves pack up and they go on the week long camping retreat and it’s a lot of young couples and families with teenage kids who are more than a little unenthusiastic about connecting with nature. It’s more people than Five was expecting, and he sticks close to the others while trying not to look like he’s doing so. 

(Klaus talks to the air and looks far too knowing for Five’s liking, but then Ben always did understand him the best when all was said and done.)

One of the teens approaches Five with a question that he doesn’t really listen to all the way because there’s a certain tightness is his chest as half his attention is concentrated on the adults poking at the firepit in his peripheral vision. All he knows is that he wants her to go away right now and his mouth is moving and he can’t hear what he’s even saying over the ringing in his ears, but suddenly there are tears in her eyes and she’s turning tail and running away, and Five doesn’t even watch her go because he can smell smoke in the air in a way that coats his tongue, thick and heavy. He has to swallow a few times so that the bile crawling its way up his throat doesn’t make it all the way.

And then there’s a hand on his shoulder and Five grabs it and yanks and he honestly probably should have expected that the person he’d just flipped ass over teakettle onto the ground would be Klaus. 

“Jesus, Five.” Klaus wheezes on the ground, and Five can feel eyes looking their way and it makes his skin crawl and he’s about two seconds away from bolting into the woods and not coming back.

“It’s your own fault,” Five snaps, and he doesn’t even throw up when he opens his mouth, which wasn’t actually a sure thing so he takes a second to congratulate himself. 

“Ben says to take a chill pill.” Klaus announces as he hauls himself up off the ground and waves his hand at a few concerned looking adults who, after a moment, turn back to whatever they were doing. The itching sensation fades a little bit, but doesn’t go away entirely. “What did you even say to that kid?”

“I told her to go away.” Five says, flexing numb fingers to try and get sensation back into them. He’s starting to feel a little bit floaty again, more distant. The smoke smell is getting stronger as a group of people start producing metal sticks and hot dogs, and they are very lucky that Allison insisted on a pat down to ensure that none of the siblings were bringing weapons to the retreat (much to Diego’s chagrin). 

Klaus gives him a look that just screams doubt. Five can’t even blame him, because he doesn’t actually know what he said to the girl, either. He’d never actually admit that though, so he just sets his jaw and gives Klaus a look that wouldn’t be out of place on the face of an actual teenager. 

After a moment of this, Klaus just shrugs. Klaus’s shrugs are always a production - he uses his entire body to pull them off instead of just his shoulders. “Pick on someone your own age why don’t you. Anyway, me an’ Ben were gonna see if we could find weird mushrooms in the woods. You in?”

“Considering the likelihood of you dying from ingesting poisonous mushrooms,” Five says, and then pauses to give a good show of actually thinking it over as Klaus squawks his outrage, before finally finishing up with a quick, “If I must.”

He lets Klaus lead the way, away from the sounds of people chatting and the smell of smoke and hotdogs until Five starts feeling a little less like his skin is too tight. They wait until they’re out of view before Klaus summons Ben, and Five pretends he doesn’t see the way Ben wrings his hands like he used to do when they were kids and one of them had just had a grueling private training sessions. 

(Diego used to call them Ben’s ‘worry hands’ and Klaus always claimed that Ben was actually picturing strangling their father. Five knows which of those he actually believes.)

He pretends to listen to Klaus’s endless babbling about his various experiences with mushrooms, some of which Five is almost certain are entirely made up. The thing about listening to Klaus for too long is that even the blatantly ridiculous things end up being something you believe just because it’s Klaus saying them.

He actually thinks about Klaus’s comment about picking on people his own age, and wonders at it.

(Five has three ages - each distinct. He’s physically thirteen, he’s technically thirty, and he’s lived through roundabout sixty years. Timelines are weird, and the personal timelines of time travelers get even weirder. Can he even count those forty five odd years when they would never happen? They undid the apocalypse, after all. There’s no fiery wasteland for a thirteen-year-old boy to fall into. The apocalypse was only ever real to Five, and sometimes that is a very lonely feeling.)

Five breathes in the cool evening air and listens to his brother ramble and watches his other brother glow blue like a realistic star wars extra and he thinks.

He’s allowed to think.

[behindtherobinsmask]

tagged by @runnfromtheak

Rules: list the first lines of your last ten stories. See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. I write the most random things so if you can actually find a pattern then... let me know. Help a fool out. 

P.S. - I know it says opening line and not paragraph but come on, that doesn’t do any story justice.

Gonna do my tags before because this turned out to be longer than expected - @elwon @stevieraebarnes @epistemologys 

1. All The Times Damian Wayne Felt Loved 

This was a birthday fic I wrote for a darling friend of mine. The whole time I was writing this my biggest fear was that the characters were going to... just not be right. Still have that fear.

“Gripping onto a pillow, Damian walked down the dark halls of his grandfather’s house, uncertainty clouding every step that he made. At this hour of the night, no one seemed to be around yet he could feel eyes watching his every move. The eyes of the stars in the sky, the moon and the many trained soldiers that had years of practice when it came to blending into the shadows. It was their presence that forced him to walk with his head held high, to bat away the tears in his eyes and pretend that everything was alright. Pretend that he wasn’t afraid.”

2. To all the stars that are listening

Another birthday fic (maybe that was the pattern all along jk). I actually really enjoyed writing this fic because I felt like I was back in my zone (my zone being angst). Can’t wait to get started on the second part.

“Dick’s life had been anything but ordinary since he was a child. As someone who grew up in the circus, his morning was spent studying with the other kids that travelled with his troupe while in the afternoon, he practiced with his heart and soul to fly as beautifully as his parents. In the nights, he’d stand on the sidelines and watch them perform, absolutely awed by the way their bodies moved, each twist, each turn so seamless, every difficult stunt seemed easy in their skin. Clinging onto the edge of the tent, he wished with all his heart that someday, he could be just like them. A bird freed. With every wish, his voice grew louder and louder until somewhere, up above, a star heard his cry. It heard his desire to be free. The chains that grounded him slowly slipped away and he flew with practiced grace. And just as Dick spread his wings, his parents fell. Birds flightless.

Freedom he had asked for and freedom he had received.”

3. Come here, won’t you hold my hand?

Listen, I spend hours of my life playing genshin impact. Did you really think I wouldn’t write a fic for it? 

“After chasing the traveler away, Xiao sighed, wondering if now was the time to head back to Wangshu Inn. There he could stay away from the harbour and its people, away from the wishes made on stars that could never hear them, away from their fragile happiness that he could shatter with a single touch. Someone like Xiao, so burdened with sins, could never mingle among the mortals without bringing harm. Wherever he went, only misery ever followed. But even though he knew that it would be best for him to leave, a part of him, as silly as it was, worried that the journey back would make him miss out on the opportunity to see an old friend. While he never attended the Lantern Rite in Liyue, he always made sure to catch a glimpse of the Mingxiao lantern that always honored the adepti. It was only at that moment that he could lose himself to the past momentarily and remember a time when he wasn’t so alone, when his battle wasn’t only his to fight.”

4. Jon Kent Must Die

A jaydick flashfic challenge gave birth to this crack series and I will happily go down with this ship. I’ve written too many of these and maybe, in the future I’ll write more. Who will stop me? God? I don’t think so. 

“Damian was sick and tired of his siblings.

Never had he met two people who were so dependent on their partners that they needed them around 24/7. It didn’t matter whether it was day or not, whether they were at the manor or in their respective homes, wherever his brothers went, their fool boyfriends seemed to follow. The obligatory family dinner had been turned into a circus with Todd’s usual clownery that had Damian rolling his eyes so hard that sometimes he was afraid they’d just pop out of his skull. Kent was no better. In fact, on more than one occasion, he had encouraged Todd’s rambling as though he was God’s chosen prophet, sharing his truth with the world. Damian really wished, just for a day, the two of them would simply go away. It wasn’t that he missed his siblings or anything. He just wished to have a conversation with Richard that didn’t end with him wanting to stab someone. Hopefully a 5’11 man with black hair with a streak of white and deep green eyes that could find a conspiracy in Titus’s preferred pose for napping.”

5. I wanna be in your arms by the sea (studying your freckles so curiously)

Yes. It’s another genshin impact fic. Sue me. (Please don’t I’m broke).

“Every night, Zhongli saw the same dream.

Caressed by the gentle winds of the Guili plains, he watched over his people, Guizhong’s people as they lived in prosperity, enjoying the calm and gentle wind that wrapped around them. Serenity was a blessing and they had an abundance of it. In the beginning, when Guizhong had described such a scene, something knit carefully in her imagination, he had not believed her. But now that he was seeing with his own two eyes, he was glad that he had agreed to her terms. Glad that he had formed a contract that had been beneficial for all.”

6. I stay up late and talk to the moon (And I can’t stop telling her all about you)

A christmas exchange fic that I loved writing because it really got me back into the writing for jaydick. It had been a while since I touched anything fandom related. Then this story happened. 

“According to Jason, there weren’t many things that Bruce really got right. Not with his rules that could never be bent for anyone or his sickeningly righteous sense of justice. But if there was one thing Bruce excelled in, it was throwing the world’s most boring party ever. Every event that ever took place in the Wayne manor was the same. Classical music. Champagne flutes. Appetizers that could never replicate Alfred’s cooking and finally, the same old rich folks of Gotham who needed to be filled in on the latest gossip lest they melt into a puddle.”  

7. Now I’m going down on you (proving what I want is true) Who told me I could write smut? Please take away my license. “Click. Click. Click. With a heavy sigh, Dick switched off the TV and tossed the remote aside after an hour of clicking through the channels, unable to find anything that would keep his mind occupied. Two weeks ago, during a drug bust with the rest of the bats, Dick had suffered an injury to his shoulder which he considered rather minor. But Alfred and Barbara said otherwise as he was benched until he healed, his own city taken over by other vigilantes while he was forced to sit at home and entertain himself with murder mysteries with plot twists he saw coming from a mile away. Unfortunately, even when he hit the gym to let go of some restless energy, he could only do the most basic of workouts, the kind that simply weren’t enough for someone who was so used to being active all day long.”

8. Wayne Boys Unsolved

Another crack fic that I really enjoyed writing. Poor Yvonne though. She was really suffering. 

“Yvonne’s body was thrumming with excitement as she peeked out the window of her room, her eyes falling on the black car that just pulled up in front of her house. Four boys stepped out, ones that she was so very familiar with. After all, she had spent many nights watching every single video they uploaded on their blog. They were paranormal investigators of sorts, the kind that didn’t believe in the supernatural and lived to debunk the stories that revolved around each haunted location. Because people loved to watch them so, both alive and dead, the boys had become famous in every circle possible.”

9. You make me wanna die (I’m burning up in the light)

Another birthday fic and the first dark story I ever wrote. Writing this was fun but also nerve-wracking. 

“I think we need a break.

Two years, three months, four days and seven hours. That was how long it had been since Jason had said those words to Dick, sitting in the middle of the bed they shared, silk sheets pooled around his scarred waist, the white of his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, droplets of it swimming down his throat and across his bare chest that was bruised red with bite marks, across the autopsy scar that he had been reborn with. He looked like a picture, each feature painted so delicately with colours that pulled, that hypnotised and drowned. The fingers of his right hand flexed, parted and then brushed across the back of his neck, tracing the bond mark that tied him down to Dick, shuddering slightly under the imprint, his heady scent spreading across the room like a drug. Strong, so fucking strong that Dick could still taste it on his tongue. Looking like that, after everything they had done, when he opened his mouth, when he said the words that had been sitting on the tipping of his tongue, it was only to end everything that they were.”

10. Come fire up the night (make me feel alive)

Who told me I could write smut (2)

“Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, Dick lay in his bed, tired but unable to fall asleep, the ticking of the clock haunting him. Tick. He took in a deep breath. Tock. He closed his eyes. Tick. He tried to sleep. Tock. Every memory of Jason came rushing back to him. The dark hair with a streak of white that framed his chiselled face. The plump lower lip that he often dreamt about kissing, pulled between his teeth until Jason was groaning. The freckles that were scattered across his nose and cheeks. Those deep green orbs that gleamed with mischief, teasing and taunting, burning with unbridled fury, one look enough to make Dick’s knees tremble. And as goosebumps spread across his arms, he found himself waking up, lest he did something that he knew he would regret. Like calling up Jason and confessing feelings that were better left unspoken, buried in a special graveyard from which there would be no sudden resurrections.”

[bolbianddolanhouse]

BNHA self insert AU [Book 4]

CATCH UP! Book 1 * 2 * 3

Chapter 4: Lets Get Fuckin FUNKY!

Not that big of a time skip, the twins are nearing the end of their second year of middle school. Hanaka has special training time with her dad. Tensei still has to reach out to his mother on quirk training, mainly because he’s been debating and making a new sound for his band. 

“...points to the opposed, Iida and Tanaka move on to the next round.”

The room erupted with cheer as the debate duo stood up to give their bows. Tensei was internally psyched out of his mind! He was at Japan’s Grand Prix Debate Tournament and he just got his team to move on to the semi-finals. If they do well in semis, Nationals next year is a guarantee!

“Gentlemen, I won’t lie” Tensei tried to hold it in “the moment they slipped up in their cross examination, they were done for!”

“We saw that! The way you pushed up your glasses before giving your final statement was iconic” gushed one of his teammates.

“Lets go get some food before they do the final draw” suggested one of the boys “They have good food here!”

“Hup! Iida-kun, may I have a word before you go on your lunch?” requested the new coach.

“Ummm sure” Tensei walked toward the coach, then quickly turned back to the group “Get me yakisoba! I don’t know how long I’m going to be.”

The coach waited until the other boys were out of earshot “Alright, you’re not in trouble and nothing is wrong. I wanted to let you know that I spoke to a coach at Waseda Uni.”

“Waseda is here?!” gasped Tensei.

The new coach smiled “I thought you might react like that! They have you on their radar. If you play your cards right, you might be looking at scholarships and offers to get into their humanities programs when you apply for college.”

“That does sound ideal” Tensei pondered out loud “I’ll do my best to make this a clean sweep for our school.”

“Oh and another thing! Are you doing this next year too?”

Tensei got sheepish “I’m not sure anymore. Since I’m still going with my plan to do hero school after middle school” he sighed “That big infraction on my school record doesn’t look too good on me to go to those privates with their absolute units of debaters. I don’t really see the point of doing a third year of this if I’m going down that route.”

“Well, if you change your mind” the coach takes out a pin from his satchel “I’d love to have you as my student coach for next school year.”

Tensei gasped “You want me as Club Senpai?!”

He nodded as they handed Tensei the tiny gold pin “I can’t think of anyone else that’s more than capable.”

“Oh I can’t possibly take this” Tensei handed back the pin “I don’t have a definite answer.”

“Hold on to it, think it over” the coach pushed Tensei’s hand back gently “Give it back on the first day of third year if you’re not joining. I trust you won’t forget nor misplace it until then.”

That was the biggest power move Tensei has ever witnessed. He continued to get his school to the finals and 2nd place overall that day. On the car ride home, Tensei was lost in his thoughts.

“...Tensei? Did you hear me?”

He snapped out of it “Huh?! No, sorry! What did you say mom?”

“I asked if you wanted McDonalds” repeated his Mother.

“Oh...yes please”

His mother turned into the street of the McDonalds their family frequents.

“You’re not as excited as I thought you might’ve been” his mother waited to say until after they ordered “What happened mijo?”

Tensei sighed “I am happy and psyched to get our school into nationals again. And this win is a pretty good note to end on...but should I stop here?”

“Oh I see, you don’t want to quit the team huh?”

“Yeah! And things are making me want to stay” Tensei gushed “Like, coach wants me to be club senpai AND Waseda has me on their radar! Too good to pass up but I want to get started on my quirk training for hero school. I’m not sure if I can juggle everything for my third year.”

They pulled up to the pick up window.

“As a mother, I want to tell you to do the right thing and sacrifice one thing to help you focus” His mother started “But as the chaotic, over-achiever, ‘fuck you, don’t tell me what to do!’ personality I am... Fuckin do it all! Flex on everyone and be THAT bitch. I believe in you.”

Tensei wasn’t expecting that from his own mother “Huh? How is being in a band, being club senpai and hero training flexing on them?”

“Did you listen to yourself saying that sentence?! That sounds cool as hell!” giggled his mother “I’ve gone through all the juggling in my school years and turned out as this absolute beast! Before I married your father I was one of the most powerful women in Japan already with my status as a top agent, college degree and CEO of my security robot company. I didn’t have to get married and start a family Tensei...but I wanted nothing more than to have a family of my own. And I did! All without giving up a single thing, now I’m THE most powerful woman in all of Japan, would you want to mess with a married woman that’s not only smarter, stronger, richer and has four kids?”

Tensei shook his head in fear “If you put it in perspective like that, I would be scared to be on your bad side. With all those titles, it feels like you can make me disappear in a snap.”

“Now imagine yourself! Tensei Oro Iida: Musician, Lawyer and Hero. Serving justice in and out of the court in the day, playing a gigs in the night!”

“Hmmm, that does sound pretty cool” Tensei receives the bag of food on his lap “You really think I can do it?”

“OH I know you can!” his mother exited out of the drive thru and towards home “You’re my son, my children are capable of the impossible.”

That filled Tensei with motivation to juggle all those titles. 

But meanwhile, the girls are having a girls night at Petti’s place.

“Oh my! Is this you guys?” gushed Twinkle at the framed photo in the living room “You were so tiny! In your little dresses and with your dads!”

Hanaka looked over Twinkle’s shoulder “Your dad kept this picture framed Petti? This was so long ago!”

“Nya! It’s the only nice picture we took ‘member?” Kyanka giggled as she flopped onto the couch “We threw a temper tantrum so bad that we lost control of our quirks.”

“Ah yes, good times” reminisced Petti as she brought out the snacks “My dad kept that one framed because it was the one time I willingly put on a dress and smiled.” She pointed to the other pictures on the wall “You can see in the other ones that I wear alt-core and scowl.”

Twinkle looked at the other pictures as the other girls ate snacks. 

“If you don’t mind me asking” Twinkled started off “Where’s your mother Petti?”

Kyanka and Hanaka stopped their snacking to turn to Petti. They know that she doesn’t respond well to that question and braced themselves in case she activates her Dark Shadow.

“My mom? She’s not in the picture sadly” sighed Petti, surprisingly calm “Dad tells me I was abandoned at his door as an egg. And she never returned to get to know me, so it’s just been my dad and I. Dad doesn’t have family either.”

“Oh I’m sorry I brought it up!”

“No it’s alright! I’m okay telling you” smiled Petti “Like, my dad tries really hard to raise me right. But it’s tough being a single dad and hero! Hanaka’s mom is basically my mother figure and I ask her all my girl questions that I don’t want to ask my dad.” She looks at the her cup of pink drink “I really want to meet my mom someday though. I have her eye color, skin tone and quirk trigger according to my dad. So I get my hot-headed nature from her and I kinda wish I got her normal face and not a bird head! But I don’t have an idea where she could be.”

“That’s so wholesome of you” Twinkle got teary-eyed “I hope you do get to meet your mom. Maybe when we become heroes, you’ll have the resources to find her!”

“That’s the goal” Petti stretched her back “Hopefully she’d want to be in my life at that point, I like to think that she just doesn’t like children.”

Hanaka spoke up “Now that I think about it, all of us look to my mom as their mother figure.”

“But aren’t your parents are together Kyanka?” questioned Twinkle.

“My mom old as hell” blurted Kyanka “How my dad got suckered into getting with an older woman is beyond me, nya. But she’s always away for hero work with the Wild Wild Pussycats, so I ask Hanaka’s mom for girl advice too. She’s a good woman but I wish she’d just, retire and act her age” sighed the cat girl as she flexed her paws “I may not show it, but I’m scared that with her age and not being in her prime anymore, she’s going to die on the job. It’s scary to think about it and I can’t do anything to stop her from going to work. That’s why I want to be a hero, so I can take her place as a rescue hero, making her retire.”

Twinkle was bawling at this point “Such noble causes! You guys are making me miss my mama.”

“Oh geez, get it together girl” Petti stands up “I’ll get you some tissues.”

“Yea, noble causes” Hanaka repeated aloud, making her pause to think “I don’t really have a reason to be a hero. Other than I can and have the means to do so, my parents never made me do something because of our status or family name.” She looked in the reflection of her cup “I don’t really know what I’m good at. Tensei got all the talent and smarts, I have the quirks and good genes.”

“Aww don’t compare yourself with your twin again” Petti said as she walked in with a fistful of tissues “You’re talented in your own way.”

“Oh yea? Name one thing- THAT ISN’T QUIRK RELATED!” Hanaka huffed.

Petti handed the loose tissues to Twinkle “Easy! You’re charismatic, people think you’re cute and go all mushy and do things for you with little interaction.”

“Ooh! You have a good sense of distance” Kyanka blurted “With just a glance, you know how far something is. AND you’re always quick to help out with things, even if you’re not sure if you’re a good fit for the job! ‘member when you volunteered to do the food stall in 1st year?”

Twinkle blew her nose “You’re a good friend! You integrated me into your group and share your food with me. And from the stories Kyanka and Petti tell, you’re always the first one to start things, a natural leader!”

Hanaka was touched “Aww guys, you’re too much!”

“Can you guys not cry at my house?!” Petti tossed a loose tissue at Hanaka “Seriously! I’m trying to chill with the girls, not get all sappy.”

Not too much time passes and it’s graduation season! Of course the ones graduating are Lili and Iwata from their respected institues. Everyone is home for the holidays and decisions have to be made.

“What’s up with you two?” Lili asked as she looked up from her phone “Usually something would be on fire and it’s too quiet for having a full house. What is going on?”

Hanaka and Tensei were face down in the middle of the living room.

“Shh, they’re communicating” Iwata teased “But deadass, why are you guys so quiet?”

Tensei lifted his head to speak “I’m tired as hell! Mom got me on her training regime and my legs are refusing to work.”

Hanaka flipped over “Ow! And Dad had me do so much reading that my brain hurt and eyes burn.”

“Oh man, I remember those days” sighed Lili with a smile “The mental and physical pain of hero training. Aren’t you glad you’re done with all that Iwee?”

“Yup! Thought I’d never get out of that cycle of pain” Iwata sighed back “Just wait until you realize you’re gay after a series of weird events happen.”

“But that part was my favorite!” beamed Lili.

Hanaka furrowed her brow “That sounds like a you thing. We actually have friends.”

“We have friends too!”

“Yea, the ones you’re dating and are going to marry someday!”

Lili and Iwata tried to think of a rebuttal but their little sister was right.

“ANYWAYS! How prepared are you guys for the entrance exam?” Lili asked.

Tensei groaned “Man, I forgot about that! Why can’t we just, take a written exam like a normal school.”

“It’s not that bad, come on Tensei” Iwata coaxed his brother to stand up “The telekinesis shit is kinda hard to master. But you can flex what that metal bending quirk can do to those robos!”

“Literally, you two have the upper hand to easily pass” Lili explained “The test hasn’t changed in decades! It’s always the robots and the ‘big boy’ robot is worth 0 points BUT you get rescue points if you either save someone from it’s path or you destroy it out of safety of others.”

“Then why did you two struggle?” asked Tensei, not believing that the exam is that simple.

“We can go fast but our second quirks aren’t power based” Lili snapped her fingers to instantly transform the curtain into a pair of pants “imagine that but in battle! The most useful thing I’ve done is make netting and a hot air balloon to transport my classmates! I had to learn certain fighting styles and have multiple support items for me to be on par with everyone else.”

Iwa levitated everything in the living room “And I can do all the floaty things but I’m not like mom, where I can crush things with my mind!” he throws a pillow with force at a wall “that’s my ‘force’ with my quirk, yea it helps me fly for a short amount of time but I wasn’t strong enough to stop a robot from attacking me when I was entering UA.”

Hanaka flails her arms “Okay okay I get it! We’re stronger by default! Put me down now!”

“Oof forgot you don’t like getting levitated” Iwata quickly set everything down “But please don’t feel so helpless, we’d kill to have the advantages you two have.”

The twins faced at each other and exchanged looks.

“If you say so” sighed Tensei “Then I guess we’re ready.”

“YAY!” the older siblings cheered and did the little quick claps.

“Don’t clap and cheer! We’re not babies!” barked the twins.

Just out of sight were their parents, looking on at the sight of their children being their usual selves.

“It was getting too quiet around here” whispered Tenya as he hugged his wife from behind “I feel complete.”

“Enjoy it while you can love” Ita whispered back “Our nest is going to be empty sooner than you think!” She gave her husband a quick kiss “Okay ninos, visitas are at the gates. The living room should be nice and tidy! I got the curtains special made for this year’s theme!”

The kids glanced at the pants that were once the curtains and then to the disorganized furniture, shit!

“Okay mom we’ll fix the living room!” Iwa spoke up “No need to come in here and check! You go and greet the guests!”

Lili frantically fixed the pants-curtains as the twins fixed the couch cushions and Iwa floated everything back to the original layout. Just like when they were younger.

With new confidence and old support, suddenly the new part of the twin’s lives isn’t so scary. 

-Chapter 4, End-

<Previous - Next>

[eryiss]

Fraxus Week 2020: Day 8 - Proposal

Summary: After a crappy post-college first year, Laxus jumped at the opportunity to leave town for a week for a road trip with his friends. He intended it just to be a week away with his friends, but when he meets an unfamiliar stranger, the vacation turns into something much more. [Fraxus Multichapter]

This is the fifth part of my Fraxus Week admissions, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. This year I’ve made the prompts into a single multi-chapter fic. You can see all the chapters in the Masterpost linked below. Hope you enjoy.

You can read this on Fanfiction, Archive of our Own, and under the cut. Read the other chapters from this masterlist.

Epilogue – The Defining Term

Three Years Later

When Laxus woke up, it was in the bed he shared with Freed in their apartment. Under the covers was a mess of limbs, and Laxus had apparently chosen to use the other man's chest as an impromptu pillow. He had the mans torso wrapped up in his arms, and when he blinked up at the blurry figure above him, he saw Freed attempting to wake up with as much difficulty as he was. He smiled sleepily at the sight.

"Morning," Laxus greeted, pushing himself off his lover's chest and sitting up.

"Morning," Freed repeated. He reached over Laxus to pick up his phone and turn the blaring alarm off.

Laxus let his back rest against the cool wood of their headboard, the covers dropping from him as he ran a hand through his hair to slick it out of his eyes. He watched Freed as he rubbed his eye with the back of his hand and reached for a hair tie, pulling his hair into a messy ponytail. It was clear that the early morning was affecting Freed more than it was Laxus, and the blonde had to grin at that and nudge the other man with his knee.

"You can't be pissed off at waking up early when it's your idea," He laughed, voice a little groggy.

"I'd agree with you, but I think right now I'm proving quite clearly that I can," Freed commented, sitting up beside Laxus. "I was always led to believe that my body would adjust to waking up early. Why hasn't it?"

"Guess you're just hardwired to be cranky," Laxus teased. "We can sleep in tomorrow, I'll get ya some coffee."

Freed thanked him, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as Laxus left the warmth of their bed. He shucked on the leopard print robe – which he wore both for the comfort it brought and the annoyance it caused in Freed – and trudged out of their bedroom and into the kitchen where he had prepared coffee in the percolator the night before; Freed hadn't exaggerated his distaste for being awake in the morning, so Laxus had been cautious.

The two men had been living together for about a year and a half. Their Magnolian apartment wasn't anything special. One bedroom, a kitchen-living room, a bathroom, and a tiny balcony. It was close enough to Freed's school that he could drive there, and directly above Laxus' gym. It wasn't much, but it was good for what they needed.

He flicked on the coffee machine to reheat the drink, walking to the kitchen pantry. He shifted a few boxes of protein assistants he knew Freed never moved, to pick out a small wrapped package and a single cupcake. He picked up a birthday cake candle that went unused before returning to the countertop. He made quick work of pouring them both a large mug of coffee, placing them on a tray along with the package, a butter knife and the cupcake, candle lit.

"Feeling any more awake?" Laxus asked as he nudged the door open with his foot.

"Not particularly," Freed groaned, before looking to Laxus with confusion.

"Happy anniversary," Laxus said in explanation, grinning.

Freed smiled at that, watching as Laxus placed the tray at the foot of the bed and handed him a mug of coffee. Laxus was quick to join Freed in the bed again, their shoulders pressed against each other. He picked up the cupcake and raised the candle to Freed's mouth to blow it out, which Freed did with a fond shake of the head and smile.

"Happy anniversary," Freed said, resting against Laxus.

"I know we said we ain't doing presents," Laxus said as he picked up the package. "I know we've been saving for the trip, and we agreed not to. But I just… I don't know, I thought you'd like this. It was cheap, so you can't get mad," Freed chuckled, picking the package up.

The two of them had been planning their anniversary trip away for a year. They had discussed going away for their second anniversary, but hadn't had the money. Laxus had quit his office job so that he could put all his focus into growing his personal training career, and Freed had taken an extension on his student loan so he could continue his studying at law school; he'd changed his major after his first year and wanted to see it through. Once they had discounted the option, they had promised each other that they'd save up and go away for the next one.

There had been some discussion as to where they could go, but they eventually settled on an idea: The Grand Canyon. The fact it was in the country meant they didn't need to pay for flights, and they could use their money on a luxury hotel and good food. And it felt right, returning to the place where they got together on their anniversary.

"You really do know how to charm a man, don't you," Freed grinned as he started to unwrap the present.

"You fell for me, so I'm doin' something right," Laxus laughed.

Freed removed the paper from the gift, revealing it to be a small framed picture. It was of the two of them from three years ago, sleeping in the back of the RV in each other's arms. Their sleeping faces were content, and their foreheads were resting against each other. It was one of the many pictures that Bickslow had taken of the two the night after they'd gotten together.

Laxus glanced up at Freed to see the man smiling softly at the picture. He rested his head against Laxus' shoulder and smiled. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," Laxus shrugged but smiled. "Happy anniversary," He repeated in a whisper.

"Happy anniversary."

They moved in sync, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. They had gotten a lot better at understanding each other's movements in the three years of being together, but the spark that ignited when they were together hadn't subsided.

Eventually, they pulled away from each other. Freed seemed a little annoyed, but Laxus took delight in reminding him that it was he who had chosen they get the early train meaning that they didn't have the time to lounge around with each other; or do something a little more… active with one another. Freed had glared at him for that, and all Laxus had done was wink and flex his bicep to further annoy the man.

Cutting the cupcake in half, they ate it in place of a real breakfast and promised each other they would eat on the train. It was a quiet moment between the two of them, a silent moment of domesticity. Laxus had grown to adore those moments after moving in with Freed, however fleeting they might have been.

"I suppose we should start waking up properly soon," He said after they'd eaten.

"We should," Freed agreed, nodding. "Thank you for the coffee, and the gift."

"Yer welcome," Laxus said with a smile.

He leant down and pressed their lips together again, this time in a chaste kiss. He pulled away with a smile, looking at his lover with adoration in his eyes.

"Love you," He murmured.

"Love you too," Freed smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

~~~

"This is the first-class cabin," Laxus said, frowning. "We meant to be in here?"

"Of course," Freed said, stepping further into the train.

"I thought we were just getting regular seats."

Laxus looked around the cabin. It was smaller than the standard classes, and with nobody else inside of it. Each seat had a table by it, all with cloths, complimentary coffee, and a breakfast menu. Freed handed Laxus a ticket while walking to a seat near the middle of the cabin, and Laxus looked to see that they were indeed booked into first class. This hadn't been something that Laxus had been told about, and he frowned a little.

"Can we afford this?" Laxus asked, sitting opposite Freed. "I mean, it's great, and I ain't gonna complain, but I didn't know-"

"It's a thank you," Freed said with a smile. "I know that my studying and work has been making me stressed, and sometimes irritable. And you've been incredibly patient with me, especially when you've started your own business. So, although we agreed that all the tips I made wouldn't be part of the vacation savings, I made sure to save about half of them. So, fair warning, there might be a fair few surprise that you'll face throughout the week."

"You didn't need to do that," Laxus said softly, though he was flattered and couldn't help but smile.

"I didn't," Freed agreed. "But you're my boyfriend, I love you, and I fully intend to spoil you whenever the opportunity presents itself."

"Thanks," Laxus said, ducking his head in embarrassment as he often did. To recover, he gave a smirk and spoke with a mischievous tone. "Does that mean that, when you become a famous big city lawyer to millionaires that I'm going to be spoiled every day. Because if not, you're gonna have to deal with a really bitchy trophy husband."

"So long as you keep your legs like tree-trunks and your abs well-defined, I'll keep spoiling you," Freed teased back.

"That's all I ask of ya," Laxus laughed.

As the train started to move, Laxus looked out of the window while giving Freed a small nudge with his foot under the table; a silent sign of appreciation for what Freed had done. It had been quite quick in their relationship for them both to realise that Laxus used small physical gestures to show his appreciation for the man. Bickslow had once claimed it was a type of love language, and explained that the ways people showed affection ranged and that Laxus wasn't the type to use his words, particularly in public.

Laxus didn't particularly care for the weird social sciences behind it all. All he cared about was that Freed knew that with these small nudges, brushes against him, and tapping on his skin was his way of showing the man he loved him, and he was thinking about him.

He seemed to understand that, and nudged Laxus back in response.

The train ride was, as expected of being in a first-class cabin alone, luxurious. They were given a complimentary breakfast of bacon sausage and eggs, which had been given to them just as Laxus started to feel a sense of hunger. The coffee and juice they had been serves had been delightful, as had been the silence of the cabin. Laxus was glad he'd gotten over the slight motion sickness he got on trains, plains and boats, as he wouldn't have enjoyed this nearly enough if he was fighting off vomit.

As their empty plates were taken away, Laxus almost made a joke about how easy it would have been to get to the canyon three years ago if they'd taken the train. But then he was reminded of just how much had happened over that week, and the comment died on his tongue and he was wrapped up in the memories of their road trip.

Getting to know Freed, their shared kiss atop the RV, their date, the flirting at their stops.

All of that could have gone if they hadn't made the week into a road trip. If they had spent the day at the canyon then chances were that he and Freed wouldn't have gotten to know each other. He wouldn't be in love with the man, and instead he would be some kind of fleeting memory of a guy that Laxus had found attractive but hadn't had the balls to have a real conversation with. He would be a stranger, not a lover.

Hell, Laxus' life would have been pretty damn different. Freed had been the one to encourage him to leave his job and focus on personal training. And Laxus wouldn't have been able to keep a place of his own, so he might have still been living with Makarov. He would likely be exactly where he was three years ago; discontented, bored, and essentially alone.

But that hadn't happened. He had gotten to know the man he loved, and he was now sharing a third anniversary with him. All these hypothetical situations were entirely useless, because he was living the best life he could right now. And watching Freed's content, gorgeous face as he assessed the passing views through the window just proved it.

In retrospect, he was damn glad they hadn't taken the train.

~~~

When Freed had said that there would be a fair few surprise throughout the trip, he certainly had meant it.

After they'd arrived at the hotel, they had been guided to the most expensive and luxurious suite the place had to offer; the bellhop had even claimed it was the honeymoon suite, a fact which made Laxus blush slightly. After they'd unpacked, they had walked down to one of many restaurants and Laxus had eaten the best steak he'd ever had. When they'd returned from lunch to their room, they'd slept for a little while – Laxus had almost melted into the bed – and had been awoken by someone calling their room remining them of their couple's spa appointment. This had consisted of a few treatments, and then a class on how to massage one another. Laxus hadn't realised how many knots he had until Freed's hand had worked them out.

He was somewhat concerned about how much everything costed, but he knew that Freed wasn't the type to spend money he didn't have nor wasn't willing to lose. And even on his wage as a waiter, he always paid equally on the rent.

And Blue Pegasus did get rich customers, ones who would fall for Freed's easy charm. He was probably flirting without knowing. The thought made Laxus smile.

After completing the spa treatment, Freed claimed he had nothing else scheduled for the rest of the day; other than the evening walk to the canyon itself, but that had been planned between them both beforehand. Rather than returning to their room again, they had decided to have a coffee at one of the bars that overlooked the relatively empty pools of the complex.

"Thanks," Laxus said through the silence. "For all of this. It's really nice of ya."

"You really don't need to thank me, Laxus," Freed said with a smile. "Sometimes, I think you forget that you deserve to be treated and spoiled. You often do these things for me that mean a lot more than you might think. You downplay all the things you do for me, and I think that you don't understand what they mean to me, so I just wanted to make it clear that I more than appreciate all you do, and love you for it."

"I think you're bein' too kind," Laxus laughed, unable to take a compliment.

"I'm not," Freed denied. "The amount of time's you've come to the library with food because you knew I had to study and wasn't looking after myself, and you didn't once complain. I know it was you who organised the weekly nights out with Bix and Ever when I was getting stressed. Even the fact that you gave me that picture today; you have no idea how… loved you make me feel."

"You sound like you're describing some rom-com character," Laxus laughed, again trying to deflect.

"One day you'll be able to take a compliment without being awkward," Freed chuckled. "What I'm trying to say it, I know all the things you've been doing. I understand that these things you do are how you show affection. And that I love you so much, and that you deserve to feel the same sense of love and comfort that I do every time you do these things for me."

Laxus didn't say anything, and Freed didn't push him. They both knew that the intention of Freed's actions was understood.

They sat at the table in a comfortable silence for a little while longer, Laxus with his leg resting against Freed's. He had taken his lover's hand in his own and was gently rubbing his thumb against the calloused palm. In this gesture, Laxus was trying to show as clearly as possible how much he cared for Freed, and how he appreciated him just as much as Freed claimed.

Freed simply knocked his knee in reply, a silent message saying his meaning had been understood.

"This might sound slightly weird," Freed spoke again after a while. "But I'm always reminded of you when I think about swimming."

"You are?" Laxus asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes. It was at that waterpark when I realised that I hadn't been in love before," Freed began, looking out at the empty pools with fondness. "It was on that obstacle course. You had tripped and fallen on your face, and were so determined to win that you actually grabbed by ankle and dragged me down with you. And I looked over my shoulder and you had this ridiculous grin on your face because you were so cocky about what you'd done, and it just hit me. I just understood that I could feel so strongly about you, could be so reinvigorated by you, that nothing I'd had in the past would ever come close to you."

Laxus was momentarily stunned. Freed had thought so passionately about him then, on the third day that they had known each other?

"You've never told me that," He eventually said.

"Well, I used to be embarrassed by it because I barely knew you and I considered loving you. And it hasn't really come up since, but given the mood I thought I should tell you," Freed smiled a little then. "Also, right after that, you used my momentary lapse of concentration to push me into the water. Thus making me lose a bet, which you've been gloating about ever since."

Laxus chuckled, and grinned at the man. "You shouldn't make a bet you ain't willing to play dirty to win."

"I suppose not," Freed agreed.

"I knew I'd be in love with you on that week too," Laxus confessed, blushing a little. "I had a crush on ya when I first saw ya. But by the end of the week, I just had a feeling that one day I'd be in love with ya. Guess I was right."

"I suppose you were," Freed agreed, and they shared a private, lovestruck smile.

~~~

"I believe it was exactly here where we had our first real kiss," Freed said with a grin.

Laxus chuckled. The two of them were standing in the camping spot where, three years prior, Bickslow had parked up the RV. Just like three years ago, the sky was in the mid-section between the evening and the night, creating a soft orange that illuminated the impressive landmass before them. It was just as Laxus had remembered, both moving and humbling.

The walk towards the canyon had been one of the quiet moments Laxus loved. It was just the two of them in the open, with soft wind hitting them and cooling off the summer heat that had been battering down on them for the past few weeks. They had been hand in hand as they walked, relishing each other's company.

"The exact place, huh," Laxus said with a smile. "You seem pretty confident about that."

"Of course," Freed replied. "I have a good memory and I remember the exact position of the stars from where we had been sitting. And that was right here. Furthermore, the distance from the-"

"You're just guessing, ain't ya?" Laxus asked with a smirk.

"Yes," Freed admitted, grinning.

Shaking his head, Laxus pulled the man into a kiss. It was chaste and only lasted a moment, but they pulled apart with smiles on their faces. Laxus had always thought that Freed looked beautiful in the natural light, and the evening sun hitting their faces was a testament to that. The way his almost perfect skin glowed, the reflection in his eyes, the small quirk in his lips in a smile.

"You're so beautiful," Laxus mumbled, his nose pressing against Freed's. "I love you so fuckin' much."

"I love you too," Freed reciprocated. "I'm glad we came back here."

"Me too," Laxus whispered, pulling Freed into another kiss.

Rather than continuing the walk or returning to the hotel, they decided that they would spend some time sitting at the canyon and enjoying the view together. They walked closer to the canyon, climbing atop a large boulder, sitting with their legs dangling above the large pit. Their shoulders rested against each other, and the gentle wind that cooled them also gently ruffled their hair. The slowly setting son practically silhouetted them from behind, and it felt as though they were the only two people in the world at that moment.

The romance of the situation wasn't lost on the man, and he found himself resting his head against Freed's shoulder.

Freed's words from earlier in the day were still resonating in his head. Laxus had never been the type to do big grand romantic gestures, and although he'd gotten a lot better at speaking about what he felt and talking about his feelings, he would always prefer showing his romantic side in smaller, more subtle ways. The fact that Freed knew and appreciated that was such a great feeling that Laxus could hardly understate it.

Although, he had felt that Freed had been too harsh on himself. Yeah, the man had been stressed with his final year of school, but he hadn't been nasty with that stress. He's still tried to make Laxus feel loved, even on his worse days. That was something that Laxus wasn't going to overlook.

They were lucky to have found each other, and the thought made Laxus laugh a happy laugh.

"What?" Freed asked with a smile.

"Just thinking," Laxus shook his head. "About our relationship. And the fact it took us like eight months after we started dating to actually call each other our boyfriends. Especially since we both knew we'd be in love with each other the first week we met each other. Just crap at labels I guess."

"I suppose," Freed said with chuckle. "I've never really thought that labels were all that important, so long as we cared for each other and loved each other."

"Yeah, guess so," Laxus agreed with a smile, closing his eyes contently.

"Though, I must admit that I have come around to certain labels," Freed said, somewhat mysteriously.

Laxus waited a moment, expecting to hear a continuation of whatever Freed was thinking. When there wasn't one, Laxus opened his eyes. He looked at the mans face for a moment, to see that he was looking out over the canyon still. With a frown, Laxus' gaze fell slightly to their intertwined hands on the boulder, only to see something had been placed between them both. His eyes widened when he realised what it was.

A small, black velvet box, in which held an elegant obsidian ring.

"I should apologise for lying," Freed said, grin unhindered now. "I had one more surprise left for you."

"Is that a…" Laxus began, at a loss for words as he looked down at the ring glinting in the sun. "Did you… are you… I don't actually know-"

"I understand that you wouldn't want a large speech, that it would make you uncomfortable and clam up slightly, so I'll forgo that tradition," Freed continued, looking towards Laxus now, running his fingers over Laxus' knuckles. "But I just want you to know this. The moment I met you, I knew that you'd be the man I love. That has been more than true, and it would be a great honour if you chose to become my husband."

"You wanna-" Laxus asked, voice cracking with emotion. "I mean, just to be completely sure, you're asking me to marry you?"

"Really, you truly need to get better with compliments," Freed shook his head fondly. He leant forward, and their foreheads pressed together as Freed lifted the ring. "I am asking you to marry me, Laxus."

There was a beat, and then Laxus wore the biggest most dopey smile he had ever worn.

"Yes. Of fucking course I will," Laxus said in delight.

They were kissing a moment later, Laxus wrapping the man he loved in his arms a moment later in a tight and needy embrace. Freed laughed in the kiss, showing the same amount of glee that Laxus was feeling inside. He felt a giddy sensation flow throughout him as he leant further into his lover's kiss. His future husband's kiss.

When they pulled apart, they hardly moved, and that was only so Freed could carefully remove the ring from it's box and slide it down Laxus' finger. Laxus looked down at the black-stone jewellery, and it filled him with such a feeling of completeness that it physically made him ache.

"It's beautiful," Laxus whispered, then looked up to Freed with adoration on his face. "It's so fucking…" The words wouldn't come to him, and he didn't care. "I love you so fucking much."

"I love you too," Freed whispered with a small laugh. "And I fully intend to love you for the rest of my life."

Overcome by emotion, Laxus brought their lips together again in a strong, emotional kiss. He brought Freed as close as he could, portraying everything he felt in a single, beautiful kiss.

As they kissed, enraptured in their own world, the sun set low on the canyon before them.

[orenstern]

I’d like to admit that I’ve never in my life read the Diary of Anne Frank. I’ve stood outside her house before, almost 14 years ago, and could feel something of her echoes, but never had before or since seen her words or witnessed her mind.

Up until a week ago, that is, when I chanced upon a copy of her diary. I picked it up the very moment I saw it, an instant reaction and so quick I forgot to realize I’d always been innately afraid to read her work, her letters to self. Because it somehow always seemed to me like, of all the work available by now-dead writers, her diary entries would feel the most like ghost stories, like real life talking to a ghost. It’s always scared me, the notion of talking to this particular ghost. No other ghost ever proposed to raise in me the slightest feather of a concern let alone fear.

But she always had.

And I can’t even remember having seen a portrait of her until last week. As hard as that might be to believe.

Where she was concerned, it has been like living in a house where all of the mirrors had blankets covering them. And believe you me, I’ve been in many houses where real life people were still living there and it was just precisely that, blankets over the mirrors, and the inhabitants were just looking at me without a hint of shame, sorrow or remorse in their eyes. Without any hint of knowledge of the display they had erected. If it fact it was them who had erected it. Just, this is the way it is here looks in their eyes.

The fucking things you see over a life. The understated non-plussed near-miss, oh boy did it hit though I am yet unstruck, horror you sometimes see. And how often it doesn’t even faze you. You just step over it like you would any old mound of dirt, not at all an active grave, except the low key and surpressed knowledge reminding you that all the earth is an active 5 billion year old Grave and Tomb and Monument and Pyre all wrapped into one, and all the universe a 20 billion year old same thing.

So I picked up the book. And I gazed at the front cover for a good long while. At her portrait. At Anne. I looked at her portrait for the first time, and I transported my mind back to her house, and I imagined she and I were standing there together, side by side. Outside. Looking at her own house in silence, together. And we both walked away, together, headed for a fast train to Paris, by way of a stroll along the Prisengracht, and short interlude at the Van Gogh museum. No other manifestations than that. I did not even imagine our bodies or our faces. I just remembered having done that before, peering out from the windows of my own eyes, with a companion by my side, and imagined this time, Anne was there with me doing the same.

And then after these thoughts, I opened the book. But I turned immediately to her very final entry. And I read only this Tuesday, August 1st, 1944 entry.

I’m sure I am not the only one who has read her writings and recognized themself in her words. But for certain, what she had written seemed and felt like something I’d written at least a thousand times. Her precise sentiments, and word choices, her very style. Parts of her style is my style. I must have picked that up either from writers who were familiar with her writings or just plucked it out of the wind somehow or some other way. But still that was not the eerie part.

The eerie part was the last two paragraphs. Which I copied down by hand into one of my own journals, with a blunt non-sharpened 3 inch pencil with no eraser no less, was all I had at the time. It was eerie because for at least a decade but more and more lately like the curvings of a quadratic formula, I’ve been hearing the phrase “Set Intentions” like you might hear during guided meditation or whenever someone wants to Exalt the Secret of Manifestation to you.

And I wasn’t at all going to share any of this with anyone. I had no plans to say any of this outloud to write anything on it or engage it any further or even ever again. I wrote the passage in my journal and I’d figured I was fully intending to never ever look back at that passage, or talk about it, or allow myself to recall it, and otherwise resolved to keep the blankets over this mirror forever.

But then I was scrolling this evening and just saw someone had shared a picture of Anne. And that too was a first for me to witness. Now I saw her face twice in a week, at the bookends of the week, both on Wednesdays at roughly about the same time of day. Happy to call that coincidence. Very happy to call it that.

But, I had also been just on a smoke break from my own writings, a letter I was writing to a loved one and the tenor of the letter of where I had left off when I stopped for my smoke break had just moved onto omens.

Oh boy, right?

Well now, still happy to be coincidentally maybe now just only synchronistically having this experience. But given it all, I’d resolved to share.

And by share, I’m not sure I can bring this all into any firm sense of things that could make it any less eerie. Though I will try. And if I don’t fully strike the right note in this attempt, I will know it, you won’t have to tell me, but I will publish the attempt anyway as an earmark of this encounter, and double back on it maybe whenever it is that I have found the right note or chord to strike or strum.

I’m thinking of two things, one I was going to save for my letter when I moved past omens. And one I was going to tell a friend of mine after watching a movie he recommended that I still have not told him. So I will choose neither and tell you both of them in this writing.

Most importantly, this is not at all about victim blaming, please have the courage to see past that, as Anne apparently might say that, at least, one of your two voices, if you only had two, would have such ability. And this, even if that means this courageous voice disappears after only 15 minutes.

First, I can remember back to a time when I am not more than a few months older than my son is now, maybe six months older. I am lying in my little boy bed, in my little boy bedroom in the house I grew up in, a little cape style enhanced cottage. It is night. The walls are blue. The headboard is all white and soft and plush to the touch, and riveted by silken buttons, smooth to the touch and shiny to the eye, though woven round by very fine white thread.

I am laying on top of the covers. This is colorful Snoopy and the Peanuts bedding. It’s not exactly yet bed time. But it must still be before the Vernal Equinox because the sun has been down for a good while and its not yet past my little boy bedtime. And the room is lit golden by a single 40 maybe 60 but really probably 40 watt incandescent bulb. It’s gold in there, it’s almost orange that low gold glow. And I’m laying at angle on the bed. And I’m pointed feet first at the east corner of the bedroom, which is also precisely lined up with Cardinal East. And I shit you not, but on this evening, a few weeks before my actual birthday and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was on my original due date, I was thinking to myself, “I must be dreaming in this life. I am going to remember this moment forever. When I get older. And I believe I am going to wake up someday from the distant future back here in this moment, back here in the age, back here just the way I am now.”

I’ve not tampered with this memory at all since then. I’ve remembered it precisely and often ever since. I’ve referred back to it thousands of times. In a sense, I in fact have never left that room or that night. I built it into every single night since. Like one of Tom Riddle’s horcruxes. And this before I had ever heard Row Row Row Your Boat. And this before I had enough speaking skills to say these thoughts outloud even if I wanted to but enough language understanding to think them and remember.

So that’s the first thought.

The second thought, it’s about that movie my friend suggested I watch over the summer. It was a horror movie, a new one. You may have watched it yourself. Called Ghosts of War.

My feedback to him the day after I watched it was pretty simple. A. I enjoyed it. B. The sniper I think is my favorite. C. It reminds me I have another horror movie That I do not mention to him by name then, but I only say that it is in the genre of horror that is not shriekingly scary, or rather does not rely on shriekingly scary moments. Because it does contain a couple of those potentially frightful jolts. But that is not it’s best foot forward. This type of horror is not the exciting amusement park kind. This type of horror is the kind that enters your bloodstream and stays with you and haunts you over a long period of time, long afterwards. The kind of horror you might find yourself waking up from sleep even a year or more later and not feeling right and having witnessed. D. I might get back to him someday with more commentary. Oh and E. I really enjoyed seeing Billy Zane. Particularly as the dichotomy of American Doctor and SS Colonel.

But wouldn’t you know shortly after I finished writing down that passage from Anne Frank’s final entry, pledging to not look at it ever again, I found myself in another room talking to a person about that actual movie that ghost of war reminded me of that I didn’t tell my friend what that movie was. To this new person I did say its name. It is paranormal activity. The first one. I said that movie is the first time I had witnessed a genuine horror film, That has the capability of genuinely haunting me for a long long period of time, in my adult years. And it doesn’t contain hardly any,if at all, shriek moments.

The horror of that movie is it’s power to slowly and steadily and surely wrap itself around your heart with fear and anxiety, and with full command, Sustain you in that state while flexing and relaxing it’s own valves, to show you who’s boss and who is in command.

Furthermore I told this person, that such a film as this paranormal activity is is not a film to watch when you are in a heightened state of consciousness. You’ve got to be half asleep at the wheel half dead inside to properly survive that film. Because in the final moment, and I admitted this to that person, when you see the demon at last, he jumps straight into your eyes. Straight into you. That movie is perhaps the ultimate act of transgression, that I’d ever seen to that date. And I admitted to this person that it took me a good long while of concerted and methodical effort, to rid myself of that motherfucking demon. Such is the exquisite accomplishment of that particular horror movie. I spared my friend this story, because I’m pretty sure he would’ve shit his pants if I told it to him in person. I think I’m only about 30% joking about that.

But tomorrow being that some stories stay with you longer than others. Some stories you actually have to exorcise from your mind. it’s very good training. Especially if you happen to frequently find yourself in other peoples houses and those houses have all the mirrors draped over by blankets. And those other people walk about aimlessly as though they have no idea how odd that appears to be. if you know what I’m saying. And if you can believe what I’m saying is actually true.

But no I don’t think I’ll ever tell my friend about the paranormal activity story. What I will tell him is another thought I had about ghosts of war. That I think on some level in someway we are all ghosts of every war. Wars that we’ve seen and wars that we haven’t seen, either depicted in books or movies or for trade for real on the news both of foreign lands and domestic. And even wars in our own mind, common place words with our neighbors or friends or family or loved ones. I think in someway we just are ghosts of it. Carrying the crosses of it.

And I remember a story I wrote or a poem maybe it was about a universal snake and a universal monkey. The universal snake head swallowed the universal monkey. Seemingly defeated him in battle. Seemingly killed him. Seemingly was digesting him. But unseeming to the universal snake, the universal monkey to this day will not die. And for all eternity the universal snake has had indigestion on account of the universal monkey’s eternal will not to be extinguished. They say it ain’t over til it’s over. They say don’t stop believing. I say that’s probably very good advice and we should all listen to it. The Monkey is listening to it right now, and has been forever. That monkey won’t quit. That monkey is in a pickle but he’s got a slim to none chance and yet he won’t quit.

How this works back to ghosts to war and how we’re ghosts of war with everyone, and how this works back to Anne Frank. It’s up to you what you wanna believe in, I believe in the fact that God won’t ever let us really kill each other. We might see it happen with our own eyes. Right before us. But I believe that even as it happens it also instantly unhappens.

We have the ability to look backwards in time and forecast forwards in time but we only have the ability to live in one moment of time at a time and that we called the present. We have no idea what actually happens in previous moments of time once we’ve moved past them. Except how they exist in our mind. But for all we know in a moment that someone apparently kills another, whether it’s a person to a person or an animal to an animal. How do we know it doesn’t on happen once we’ve left that moment? Natural law has a place in this world. So natural law gets its way in this world. But there are such things as the overlapping thesis of all the different laws. And divine law is a thing in that overlapping thesis. Just as well as natural law is. So it is totally possible that once we make a mess of things, the Custodian comes along to fix it.

It’s possible along the same probabilities or maybe even slightly better than Lloyd Christmas’ chances of getting the red head which he eventually did.

To another person who overheard me talking to that first person last week about paranormal activity, the next day she came to me with concerns. I listened to these concerns. And my response was what you do is up to you. Including whether or not you trust yourself or not. If I were in your shoes I would try to trust myself. Even as everyone around me might seem intent on leading me to betray my own trust. if I were in your shoes, I would choose to believe that no one actually has the power to do that. No one actually has the will to want to see you fail, to fail yourself. Because that would be them wishing them to fail themselves. And while they might get away with that in one moment in the next that moment is wiped clean. If I were in your shoes I’d be telling that to myself every moment I had these concerns you are telling me about.

I further said, and I stop talking about if I were in her shoes. I further said what you think is happening is happening. What you understand about what is happening is only ever coming into focus more and more. You may not have all the Time in the world, but you do always have the luxury of patience. There’s no rush when it comes to the process of understanding. Something tells me we’ll repeat the lesson infinitely if necessary. something also tells me that won’t actually be necessary. The lesson will come clear eventually. Have faith in that and likely all of your fears and concerns will be abolished. The probability of it being otherwise, however great it seems, as Pascal very effectively demonstrated, infinitely pales to the seemingly tiny probability, the Boson particle infinitesimally small and impossible to fathom yet there it is nonetheless almost something you can now actually reach out and grab but even still something you can see if only by way of prediction probability, of it not being otherwise.

So that in other words no sword actually ever really falls upon the neck but he’s only ever caught by the Hand.

I’ve been waiting to wake up to this reality ever since my two-year-old self woke up to that reality and said I will be waking up here someday again.

But I did tell that second person, be careful the stories you tell yourself. They could be like that movie demon that enters your mind and poisons your body, like that story I told last night. The mind can make almost anything real. That’s a quote from a movie also, but it comes from somewhere. Didn’t it? So possibly probably in all likelihood whatever story you tell yourself whatever imaginary though you have as an objective: if somewhere in this universe. Somehow manifest itself. Somehow find a way to be born and become true. Often a lot faster and more hellishly than you thought possible.

The mind is it’s own place. It can make heaven out of hell and hell a heaven. I don’t need to read the whole diary of Anne Frank, to know beyond what her final entry says. That she was equally gifted at doing both. And that, my friends, is not victim blaming. That is just what it is.

And so behold the final two paragraphs of her final passage:

As I’ve told you, what I say is not what I feel, which is why I have a reputation for being boy-crazy as well as a flirt, a smart aleck and a reader of romances. The happy-go-lucky Anne laughs, gives a flippant reply, shrugs her shoulders and pretends she doesn’t give a darn. The quiet Anne reacts in just the opposite way. If I’m being completely honest, I’ll have to admit that it does matter to me, that I’m trying very hard to change myself, but that I I’m always up against a more powerful enemy. A voice within me is sobbing, “You see, that’s what’s become of you. You’re surrounded by negative opinions, dismayed looks and mocking faces, people, who dislike you, and all because you don’t listen to the advice of your own better half.”

Believe me, I’d like to listen, but it doesn’t work, because if I’m quiet and serious, everyone thinks I’m putting on a new act and I have to save myself with a joke, and then I’m not even talking about my own family, who assume I must be sick, stuff me with aspirins and sedatives, feel my neck and forehead to see if I have a temperature, ask about my bowel movements and berate me for being in a bad mood, until I just can’t keep it up anymore, because when everybody starts hovering over me, I get cross, then sad, and finally end up turning my heart inside g out, the bad part on the outside and the good part on the inside, and keep trying to find a way to become what I’d like to be and what I could be if… if only there were no other people in the world.

Yours, Anne M. Frank

[indescribablechoices]

let me go home (part one)

Pairing: Sonia x MC (Nina), Damien x MC (Kai) x Hayden

Word Count: 1890 

Fic Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @kennaxval @thehonorarybeaumont @emomoustache 

Listening Suggestion: Home - Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

Synopsis: Eighteen months after the events in Monaco, Nina brings Sonia home to meet the family.

“Are you okay?”

Nina let out a soft breath, fingers flexing against the wheel of her car. She glanced across at Sonia who was sat beside her, concern in her eyes. They had been pulled up on the side of the road in silence for a long few minutes, neither making the first move to get out of the car.

“Yeah, I just…” Nina rested her head against the glass of her window, eyes flicking to the familiar suburban house that they were now parked in front of, “It’s been a while since I’ve been back here.”

A frown crossed Sonia’s face, “I thought you said you and your family stayed in contact.”

“We do,” she said, “It’s just very different talking to them on the phone where I can lie about what I’m doing and actually being here in person.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No,” she reached across and took Sonia’s hand in hers, eyes trailing to the diamond ring that Sonia now wore, “I can’t wait to marry you, baby. I want my family to celebrate that with us. I am never happier than when I’m with you.”

“Even when you’re rolling naked in money?” Sonia cocked an eyebrow.

Nina smirked, meeting Sonia’s eyes, “That activity, like everything else in my life, is better with you.”

Sonia bit back a laugh with a scoff, “Sap.”

“Your sap,” Nina reminded her, happily receiving the kiss that Sonia leaned over to plant on her cheek.

The anxiety that had been resting heavily in her chest felt lighter by just the small interaction. Today felt like the first day of the rest of her life. The Monaco job felt like a breeze compared to the gut-wrenching nerves that had been eating at her for weeks at the thought of this visit, at finally bringing all of the parts of her life together. If she was going to spend the rest of her life with Sonia, she didn’t want to be hiding half of herself away.

Together, they climbed out of the car, Nina leading Sonia up the footpath to the front door, waiting with bated breath after ringing the doorbell. Nina smiled to herself at the sound of her mother’s voice calling from within that she was coming.

The door swung open, revealing a woman in her late forties, dark hair cut into a bob, both Sonia and Nina towering over her short figure.

“Nina?” she asked quietly, tears glimmering at the corners of her brown eyes.

“Hi Mama,” Nina offered her a smile, and was swiftly yanked down into a tight embrace.

Her mom quickly began to fuss over her, asking if she had eaten, attempting to wipe a makeup smudge away with her thumb. Nina laughed as she did, Sonia’s heart swelling at the sight of one of the world’s most prestigious thieves receiving a maternal second-hand lick.

Another figure, taller this time, appeared behind her mother, a man older again by nearly ten years, his dark hair showing signs of greying.

“Nina!” he beamed, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back before she stepped out of their arms, retaking Sonia’s hand.

“Mama, Papa, I want you to meet Sonia; my fiancée. Sonia, this is my mother and father; Kai and Damien.”

Kai’s face lit up with a wide grin, “Fiancée?!”

Sonia found herself pulled into a fierce hug by the small woman who began to fuss over her just as she had to her daughter just a moment before, saying how beautiful she was, how lovely her clothes were, and obviously how wonderful she must be for Nina to want to settle down.

Damien chuckled as he watched the exchange, “You might want to let the poor young woman inside the house, Peanut.”

Kai shushed him playfully, but she did release Sonia, stepping aside to invite everyone in. Nina mouthed a quick apology to Sonia as they went inside the house. The walls were lined with pictures from her childhood, showing an array of memories, from vacation shots, to official school photographs, candid shots of the entire family and two dogs; a brown collie and a German Shepherd.

“Oh Dipper and Columbo,” Nina cooed, looking at one of the pictures of the dogs, “They were our family dogs growing up. Dipper was dad’s dog before I was born. Columbo was an ex police dog, but he had the softest heart you’d ever met.”

“Just like Nina’s father,” Kai told Sonia with a laugh.

“I heard that,” Damien glanced at his wife with a smirk before looking to Nina, “Your dad is in the kitchen if you want to go surprise him.”

Nina’s smile grew even wider than Sonia thought possible as she was led further into the house, Kai and Damien heading on into the living room.

“I thought Damien was your dad?” Sonia asked quietly once they were alone in the corridor, heading towards the soft sounds of a radio playing and someone clanking around in a kitchen.

“Damien is my biological father, but I call him ‘Papa’. You’re about to meet my ‘Dad’ Hayden,” Nina told her, “My parents have been in a polyamorous relationship since long before me or my brother were born.”

“Is it just the three or is there another parent lurking around here somewhere?”

Nina laughed, “Just one mom, two dads. There is my Auntie Alana as well, and she and Mama are together, and she used to date Papa, but that was before they all really met each other… It can get complicated to explain to someone new… It’s not too much, is it?”

“It is… more than I was expecting,” Sonia admitted, but pulled her to a stop to wrap her arms around her and press a soft kiss to her lips, “But they are your family, and I can’t wait to be a part of it.”

“Thank you,” Nina said softly, “There’s something else you should know. My Dad looks a lot younger than Mom and Papa. He looks closer to our age, but he’s not. He… well…”

“Baby, whatever it is you can tell me.”

“I’ve never told anyone about him before. At least not like this. I wanted to keep him safe. You’re the only person I trust enough.”

“Nina you’re a highly wanted criminal and I have lied to several law agencies about you. I can handle this.”

Nina’s heart lifted with affection as she looked at this wonderful woman that she trusted more than anything. She let out a gentle sigh, “Did your parents ever tell you about Eros? The company that-”

“Released a bunch of human-like AIs into the world and are now at the forefront of AI technology? I’ve heard.”

“Hayden is one of those AIs. He and my parents helped save the president’s life when Eros tried to assassinate her.”

Sonia stared at her for a moment, eyebrows raised before she let out a whisper of, “Holy shit… how have you never been caught? You have one of the most high-profile families I’ve ever heard of.”

“Special favour from the Oval Office. The only reward my parents asked for was to go home and live out their lives. There was an undisclosed financial sum, of course, you don’t get a house like this in the ‘burbs on a cop, a decorator and a teachers’ salary. But my whole family is under the radar. To keep my dad safe.”

“So, he’s really an AI?” she asked.

“Apart from the non-aging, you would never know. I mean, he’s stronger than the average man, but when you’re a kid you think your dad is the strongest person in the world... But he’s as human as you or I,” she added quickly, a defensive edge to her voice.

Sonia took hold of her hands, giving them a squeeze, “Baby, I wouldn’t care if your dad was a toaster. He’s your dad, and I can’t wait to meet him.”

Nina leaned against her for a minute, “Thank you… This… All of this is a lot for you to hear in one go, I know, but I’ve never been able to really share it with anyone. It’s scary, letting someone truly see you.”

“I see you,” Sonia said, lifting one of her hands to tuck a dark curl behind Nina’s ear.

“You always have,” Nina smiled as their lips met in a gentle kiss. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, the floral scent of Sonia’s perfume setting her at ease, “C’mon. Dad’s going to lose his mind when he meets you.”

They headed further into the house together, and Sonia paused slightly behind Nina to let her begin introductions. Nina leaned in the kitchen doorway, smiling to herself as she watched her dad potter around the kitchen. The radio was blaring pop music, so it was no wonder that he hadn’t heard the commotion at the front door. He stopped to stir at something in a pot on the stove, and a delicious aroma reached her nose, nostalgia panging through her heart as she recognised the smell of her dad’s bolognese.

“Hey Dad.”

Hayden’s head whipped around at the familiar voice, tears already in his eyes as he took in the sight of her.

“Is that really my little girl?” he asked quietly, a smile starting to spread across his face.

They crossed the room and met in the middle, Hayden wrapping his long arms around her to hold her close. She held him tight, resting her face on his chest.

“I missed you so much,” she murmured into his shirt.

“I missed you too. I didn’t know you were coming home,” he admitted, “I would have prepared your favourite, and got your room ready and made a cake or something, I…”

She couldn’t contain her smile as he began to fuss worse than her mother had, “Dad, it’s okay. I wanted it to be a surprise, and you know I’ll eat anything as long as Mama doesn’t cook it.”

He let out a soft laugh, “That woman could burn water.”

She laughed as well, “Have you got enough for two guests?”

“Two…?” He eyes drifted to where Sonia was waiting in the kitchen doorway, “Oh! Who is this?”

Nina held her hand out for Sonia who moved to join her, taking her hand, “Sonia, this is my dad Hayden. Dad, this is Sonia… she’s my fiancée.”

His eyes went wide as tears welled up in them and he threw his arms around both of them.

“Oh it’s so wonderful to meet you,” he cooed, voice softened by tears.

“It’s wonderful to meet you as well,” Sonia laughed.

“Who would have known my ordinary Thursday would have brought me this, my daughter home and a new addition to our family?” he beamed, stepping back to take in the sight of them both, heart bursting with pride at the sight of his child all grown up and so happy, “This calls for a proper Nazario-Young family celebration. We’ll get your brother home for the weekend, and see if we can rustle up some Nazarios, Parks and Moussavis… you…” his smiled faded slightly, “You are staying for the weekend, aren’t you?”

Nina glanced at Sonia who gave her an approving smile before she looked back to her dad, “Yeah, we’re staying for the weekend.”

to be continued...

[adrianoakley]

That evening, he wasn't expecting a visitor. But, that's what he got. After having a refreshing shower he had wrapped himself up in his robe and lounged on the bed about to watch an episode of Schitt's Creek, he thought he'd best check his messages. A bunch of texts awaited him. 1 from Sydney.

'I'm near your place, I have urges and a new toy for you, I'm going to stop by. If you don't reply I'll take it that's ok. I hope you'll be naked and ready for me. xxx'

He grinned and licked his lip. Oh Sydney you wicked goddess! He mused as he stroked Angel, his long haired, grey Norwegian Forest Cat, who was curled up by his side. The text was out of the blue, but to be fair, he'd expect nothing else. They've been friends for ages. They dated for a while but at the time, their lives were on different paths so they split and remained acquaintances. Then a few years later they hit it off again and decided mutually that they could never work as a couple but friends with benefits hit the spot as long as either was single.

He wondered how far away exactly she was as he checked the other messages. 3 from Steph.

2, pictures of him and Edmund embracing near the studio window. OH My God Steph!! You sly minx, he thought, shaking his head and staring at the images. Reliving the moment in his mind. He could have been cross at Steph for taking the pics, but actually he found himself almost grateful and excited to have some record of the event. To have an image of Edmund he can view at his leisure.

Plus 1 video of the moment Edmund held Adrian closer, it was a clearly visible thing, Edmund pulled him into his body. Adrian remembered the sensation of Edmund's strong arms holding him, his clean yet musky scent, his hands rubbing into Adrian's spine. As Adrian's eyes lingered on the moving picture, it looked like he saw Edmund nuzzling his neck. Curious, was Edmund smelling him? That's how it looked. Adrian smiled a delicious, slow smile and was filled with a sense of wonder. He lay back, crossed his legs and continued to think over the afternoon, replaying the video at least 10 times. The most curious part perhaps was the final handshake goodbye, sadly not caught on video. His Gift was activated without conscious effort on his part and without sensing any pain in Edmund's hand. There was no pulling feeling as there usually is when he heals pain, which is almost like a sort of soft suction effect as his Gift is drawn into the ailing area of a person. No this was tingly and warm and if he'd kept on holding Edmund's hand the sensation might have made him giggle. This has never happened before. Adrian couldn't help wondering then what Edmund must have felt, and what is it about Edmund that triggered that to happen?

Adrian could hear movement in the house downstairs, pulling him from his thoughts. Angel lifted his head and turned it toward the sound. "Oakley?! Where are you!?" Sydney called. 'Bedroom!' Adrian shouted in reply. His strength of voice, loud enough to startle Angel so that he jumped off the bed and made his way out of the room, tail up though, he wasn't offended. Sydney had had a key to Adrian's home for a few months. It just seemed to make sense with all the spontaneous combustion between them. It made it easier. Like he'd wake up in the middle of the night with her hand sliding between his legs from behind, when she very much wasn't there, when he went to bed. He too had a key to her apartment but always gave her some warning of his arrival. He knew better than to 'surprise' a woman alone in her home.

She appeared at the glass sliding door of his bedroom, in this ex factory building, which was now his home, looking determined and casually sexy as was her style. Her sandy blonde, shoulder length hair a little disheveled and a flush to her cheeks. There were a lot of stairs in Adrian's home, but also a lift which came in handy sometimes with such a large abode.

 'Still alive then!' She said with a flash of her eyes. It was something of a greeting of theirs, and made light of the fact that indeed, it was something of a miracle that he was still alive. 'It would seem so!' he replied with a warm gleam in his eyes. She gave him a knowing affectionate look and then, 'You're not naked!' She chastised him with mock annoyance. He didn't have the time or really the heart to tell her it was because he was day dreaming about a 6ft something Detective Inspector who has had some profound effect,... on his Gift if nothing else. Sydney dumped her rucksack on the floor near the bed, moved swiftly to him, smiling warmly, clambering onto the bed and on to him. She clasped his face and kissed his lips firmly, simply once. 'I'm sorry mistress, I guess you'll have to...Aaaah! 'He began, but she'd pulled his robe open and pinched both his nipples firmly. '...punish meee!' He winced and tilted his head back, and then sighed as the pleasure, pain effect lingered in the little rosey buds even after Sydney had removed her cruel fingers.  'I have every intention of it Oakley, you'll see...or...'She chuckled as a wicked thoughts played on her mind 'or not see...'

True to her words, Adrian soon found himself naked, lying on his back, with a cushion beneath his buttocks to raise his hips a little and his arms velcroed up to the headboard of the bed. She'd then rummaged around in her rucksack for a little while and produced a box which she'd secreted away off to the bathroom. Normally he'd be more excited. He was certainly interested and could do with the sexual release but, truth be told, he was also, distracted. He told himself to stick with the present moment and give Sydney his full attention as she deserved.

And she was gorgeous and definitely the right side of wild when it came to sexual antics. When she emerged from the en suite, she was only wearing her boy shorts and a smile. She lifted her hand to show the toy to him as she approached. ' A new butt plug? ' Adrian asked with a grin, though his eyes lingered on her sweet little breasts, which were completely off limits, for the time being. However the plug...indeed, larger than his usual one and bobbled. 'Clever boy' She replied climbing on the bed between his legs, a bottle of lube in her other hand. 'Spread your legs wide for me' She commanded. He raised his brows and obeyed, happy to be displayed for her. But just like that? He thought, no messing about first? As soon as his thighs were to her liking, she lubed up her fingers and reached in to massage his anus and taint, with the slick substance. Her hands thankfully warm. He closed his eyes and hummed at the sensation. Her ministrations soon brought his cock to life. 'Look at me while I penetrate you ' She said smoothly and he obeyed of course. First she used her fingers to open him up. How serious and sexy she looked to him, a woman on a mission, as two of her fingers slid into his anus and made him gasp. He couldn’t help straining to raise his hips further in a kind of encouragement. Not that she needed any.

She knew  to simply open him and not tickle that pleasure bud inside of him, not yet. She knew how he liked to be teased sometimes to the point of excruciation. But her mood that evening seemed more urgent, as though she was set on pleasing herself first and foremost, and to be fair, he was utterly, her willing subject after all.

He was tingling with anticipation as Sydney raised the new toy to show him again, with a wicked smile, before slowly, sinking it into his, now slick and prepared hole. The shape of the plug provided extra tingle certainly as his insides squeezed and then gave in to taking it, bobble by bobble. He blinked, his eyes watered. He licked his lips, bit his lip, softly hummed, nodded approval and gasped until it was fully inside him. He could feel the plugs broad base, wedged between his cheeks, lewdly. Its tip grazed his prostate giving a sudden stronger wave of tingle, the kind that only begs for more stimulation. It made his mouth open, his thighs tense and his brow crease with pleasure. The fullness of the plug nestled within him created familiar warmth through his groin and abdomen and made his lonesome cock twitch with need. 

Adrian pulled on his wrist restraints then, to feel the sense of submission more keenly, to the woman between his legs. If only she'd fuck me with the toy, he thought as he gazed longingly at her. 'Good?' She asked abruptly and moved off the bed. Maybe she's going to just leave me here to stew in my juices...Adrian mused and pulled on his restraints a little more, testing them, and clenched his buttocks so as to feel the plug all the more. 'Yes Mistress' He replied. She moved around to his right side. 'But do you deserve good? Hmmmm?' She asked raising her eyebrow and ran her left hand over his chest, lightly at first and then dragged her nails over his nipples.

 'Ahh' he gasped quietly as he involuntarily flexed his pecs. He'd have her do that again. It seemed like a trick question. 'I...probably not Mistress?' replied Adrian with as much humility as possible, even though his gaze could not help but fix on her breasts which he wished he could nibble and squeeze. She noted his gaze and teasingly fingered her own nipples, making them hard. Adrian couldn't help but smile, then his lips parted and his tongue darted against them to moisten them, as he felt a kind of parched all of a sudden. She chuckled and with her right hand she took his jaw firmly and bent to kiss him, but she captured his bottom lip between her teeth and bit it enough to pinch uncomfortably. 'nnnng' Adrian moaned with a frown. Sydney's expression bore no sympathy.

The next he knew, she was putting a blind fold on him, the sleeping mask variety. Oh pleaase please, touch my cock next...His last thought before his sight was stolen. Now in darkness, Adrian's other senses became heightened. He was more aware now of the scent of her, a soft floral perfume and her sex as he felt her weight on the bed, then a dip on either side of his hips and her heat by his sides. She was straddling him but not yet setting her weight down.

'Mmm please Mistress, ple' He began, but her fingers were then in his mouth, silencing him, so he obligingly sucked on them until she withdrew them, to pinch his nipples hard. He hissed in response at the sharp sensation, though he loved it, and it made him press his chest up to meet her touch all the more.

'So needy... my perfect slave...' She cooed, her voice all the more sexy sounding somehow, without the vision of her to distract from it. He hummed and rocked his hips which only made her grab a handful of his hair at the front of his head firmly. The pull on his scalp sent a burning sensation into the skin, enough to jolt him out of ideas of moving. 'Keep still' She said calmly and then released his hair and smoothed his cheek.

There was the sense of her moving above him, though he couldn't make out what she was doing and then her hand grazed his most inner thigh making him go very still before there was the sound of a click and then....Buzzzzzzzzz.

Oh god, now, that he wasn't expecting. The plug to not only be bigger and more interestingly shaped than his old one, but also a vibrator. The effect was immediate. 'Oooooh god' He sighed as the vibrations sent delicious tingles through his rectum, into his groin and against his prostate. His legs tensed, his toes curled...And then...then heat...and weight and pressure from above as he felt Sydney's cunny swallow his then, achingly hard cock. Only she didn't pump him with her body straight away. No, instead she ground her groin against his slowly. Dear sweet fuck...Were about the only words that came to mind and then a funny thing happened.

Unable to see at such a physical, intensely pleasurable, though tenuous moment, an image came to him, of Detective Inspector Reid on top of him instead. Completely naked, muscular, gorgeous toned arms and hairy chest... thick, bitable thighs spread, cock erect and bobbing shamelessly, all there right in front of him for the touching...His Edmund, wanton and grinding his arse onto Adrian's cock. Adrian shook his head but moaned with want at the same time which spurred Sydney on to start bouncing on his hips.

Lost, completely lost then to all the sensations, the tingles on his prostate growing to waves of gorgeous tension mounting to their inevitable conclusion, whilst his cock was sucked and warmed and pumped by Edmund’s tight, meaty arse.

Adrian's legs trembled as his G-spot erupted and he groaned an unrestrained 'OohEdmund!'. His cock had just caught up, as he abruptly felt the heat and the weight of the body above move off him. 'Ooohh fuck' He whined as he shot a  load onto his own belly and realised his ridiculous error.

 Still the buzzing continued inside him, threatening to make him come again. 'Mmmmplease, Mistress, I'm sorry...Turn it off, pleeease' He bit his lip and then gasped. He wriggled a bit in protest which only made the vibrator inside him all the more tingly. He whined. 'I'm... mmmmmsorrryyy'. He didn't know that Sydney was standing right near him by the bed, her hand over her mouth, chuckling quietly. She wasn't offended, surprised out of the moment yes, but not upset.

And to see him on the bed, hot and bothered and shamed. His hips raised, cock deflating, with his own come on his belly not knowing whether he was alone to be left there for the next hour like that or not,... was rather amusing to her wicked streak.

But her curiosity eventually overpowered her wickedness and she leaned over him, and reached between his legs to turn off the little switch in the base of the plug. Oh thank fuck!, he thought and sighed deeply. 'Alright...' She said softly and got onto the bed on his right side, and took his blindfold off.

Soft light, and her pretty face and the room all reappeared again. He blinked and swallowed and looked at her apologetically. But she was smiling at him playfully. 'You have to tell me. You've met someone haven't you? Someone called Edmund, who must be exquisite for you to think of him so, in the throws of our passion...' He was relieved to see her clearly unphased by his game changer vocalisations. He didn't even know if she came or not which was a new one on him. Not to be repeated. He nodded slowly and dared a smile at last.

'Yes’ He replied with a hint of a sly smirk ‘...and I can show you a video of him that might amuse you.'

[tabithacarlisle]

*OFF THE RECORD : Part 10.1

.......

by jo ( @tabithacarlisle ;)

*Catch up on OFF THE RECORD’s previous chapters Parts 1-9 here at the OTR MASTERLIST

Word count: 5167

OTR Part 10 Notes & Warnings: Pixelberry Studios owns these characters, not me! I just have fun playing with them :)

Notes: This chapter because of the length & scope needed to be split into 2 parts.

*OTR Part 10.2 is still in the works, thanks for being so patient! ;)

Warnings: This will be 18+ NS*W, !, erotica, polyamory, marital angst, discussions of group sex, recreational [legal]drug use, swearing,

If you click ‘Keep Reading’ you are acknowledging that you are 18+

*OTR Part 10.1

……….

“We’re here!! Max, take the road to the left of the gates. Ellis will let us in the back way to the cabin.”

“I’m so excited babe, I can’t wait to see it.”

Once past the security gates, Maxwell drove his Jag (a new purchase from his book advance earnings) down the newly paved road to the far end of the Valtoria estate.

“I know, I’ve only seen it in pictures so far and whenever Drake has FaceTime’d me when he had to come here for the building inspections. It’s going to be so perfect for the four of us! I can’t wait to show it to you in person!”

He parked in the side driveway and turning the ignition off, pivoted off the side of the driver’s seat and winced. “ohh. Almost forgot that was there” Maxwell brushed his hand lightly against something hidden underneath his shirt.

“Max, are you sure you’re ok with these new rules of Bastien’s? I know you don’t like guns.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Hate ‘em, in fact. Don’t get me wrong, I love swords and daggers and crossbows, mostly for their awesome champagne cork-popping potential. But firearms make me nervous, even after all those weeks of training I had to go through to be able to travel alone with you.”

“I know, Bastien made it so Drake has to carry one when he travels alone with Liam, too.”

“Y’know, the target practice training with Mara and Bash was actually pretty fun. But three full weeks of studying all of those security protocol books was really stressful. It made me feel like I was back at University again, and not the fun parts of University with the coed parties. Plus, reading through all of those scary possible scenarios was really…intense…”

“Maxwell, I know you said you’d do this for me, but if you’re ever uncomfortable with the responsibility just let me know, please? We can always ask one of the royal guards to escort us on our trips. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m forcing you to do this.”

“I don’t. Tabitha, I love you so much. I would never let anything happen to you if I could help it. And if I have to get all ‘John Wick’ on some assassin’s ass to protect you and our ba—I mean your baby…”

Tabitha squeezed his hand. “It’s okay.” she whispered,  “You can say it to me, babe.”

“Well, statistically speaking, the chances that the baby’s mine are pretty low…”

“That doesn’t matter. You are going to be the most wonderful ‘Uncle Max.’ The best. And your little niece or nephew is going to be so blessed to have you in their life every day. I know I’m blessed to have you every day.” She beamed at him with eyes sparkling with tears.

Maxwell blushed. He squeezed her hand back and sighed, carefully patting the hidden SIG Sauer pistol holstered under his shirt. “Anyways… I’m looking forward to locking this thing up in the safe when we get inside.”

“I know, right? Inside our very own private cabin!! Look! There’s Drake and Liam on the porch!”

She walked carefully up the wood porch stairs; Maxwell followed behind her pulling their suitcases. Liam and Drake were outside busying themselves staining the wood porch deck that surrounded the cabin.

“Hey boys! We made it! Ooh, you both are looking sexy working hard out here in the sun with your shirts off. Mama likes. Need any help?” She tilted her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and raised her eyebrows suggestively at them. Drake looked up, beaming at her with a big goofy grin, looking like he was about ready to hand her a paintbrush, anxious to get her involved. Liam, on the other hand chuckled dismissively, shaking his head. He paused to wipe sweat from his brow and lean over the deck railing as he replied,

“Thank you, love, but… I’m afraid that’s not the best idea. Even outdoors, the chemical fumes from the deck stain might be harmful for the baby. You should go ahead, unpack, and relax indoors.”

She shrugged, “Okay, if you insist?”

“I do.”

Liam wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and bent down to kiss her sweetly. Tabitha got up on tiptoes to kiss him back, then turned ‘round to grab Maxwell by the hand.

“C’mon, Max! I want to show you your room.”

She went inside with Maxwell trailing behind her, whereupon he found himself denied entry as Drake braced his bare muscled arm flexing in front of the door frame.

“Slow your roll there, Beaumont. You aren’t pregnant. So go on, pick up a brush and get to work.”

“Nah, I’d better go in with her. Y’know? ‘Queen’s Retinue’ duties and all that...” Maxwell shrugged, smirking before he pushed Drake’s arm aside. “Have fun, fellas!”

Drake seethed as he watched them go in, muttering under his breath,

“Lazy-ass motherfu—“

Liam grabbed his shoulder to hold him back, scolding, “Drake, we promised we’d be civil out here, for Tabitha’s sake. ‘Circle of Trust’ Remember?”

They both watched them through the window and heard Tabitha squeal as Maxwell picked her up and carried her bridal-style up the stairs.

“Look at ‘em, Lee. Fuckin’ ‘Romeo & Juliet’ in there...”

“She needs him now. And I need you...”

Liam came up closer from behind and slipped his hands into Drake’s front jean pockets as he bent his head to kiss the side of his neck. Drake reached his hand around to cup the backside of Liam’s head, threading his fingers through Liam’s hair and arching his back into him, closing his eyes as he let out a low moan. Liam finished his sentence in a low whisper at Drake’s ear, before he playfully nipped it with his teeth.

“...to finish helping me stain this deck.”

“Ughh, fine. You win.”

“I always do.”

He slapped Drake’s ass, causing both of them to laugh as they went back to work.

...

Tabitha woke up from her nap in her room to the sounds of Maxwell and Liam laughing outside. She rolled gingerly off the bed and peered out the window, smiling. They had turned the riverbank into a makeshift driving range, hitting golf balls off of the dock. Tabitha felt utterly content and at peace at sight of the two of them having fun and enjoying each other’s company and it warmed her from within. The sharp kick she felt when she stood up startled her, and she held her belly as she spoke to it, “That’s right, baby. That’s your father down there…” The uncertainty of paternity that once seemed like it would be a cloud over all of their lives, here, all together where they could be together without expectations and restrictions, felt like a non-issue. It didn’t matter, because everyone who mattered to her was here with her, exactly how she wanted it to be. She went downstairs to go watch the boys' outdoor activities up closer.

Drake was on the porch, standing by the railing. He wasn’t watching the other two gentlemen as they horsed around by the river. Golf wasn’t his thing. He was facing the mountain range just beyond the cottage grounds seemingly lost in thought. He held an ornate looking brown beer bottle as he stood and took a swig. Tabitha approached him.

“That looks good.”

“Oh this? Yeah, it is. It’s a small batch Belgian Lambic I picked up at the bottle shop on the way over. Hazy, not too fruity, which is how I like it. It’s got a nice, rounded malt mouth feel to it though.”

“You’re making my mouth water. I can’t wait‘till this baby comes and I can finally drink beer again.”

Drake grinned and took another drink without breaking eye contact. Nothing sexier than a hot chick who can drink with the guys. She’s perfect. As an idea crossed his mind his eyes darted around towards the river, then back to her with a conspiratorial smirk.

“...I could… give you a sip. I won’t tell Liam.”

“I shouldn’t...”

“Why not?” he whispered back “Women around here drink in moderation when they’re pregnant. Hell, all of our moms probably did, and we turned out just fine. It’s Lee who’s gotten all paranoid after reading one too many American books on pregnancy to get ready for the baby. I don’t think one sip is going to hurt anyone.”

“Shhh...” She looked around to make sure Liam and Maxwell weren’t watching. “Ok give it here, quick before I change my mind.”

Tabitha took a swig from the bottle, and it was every bit as flavorful and complex as Drake had made it out to be.

“Mmmmm! that is good!”

“I told you.” His arms crossed over his broad chest satisfied at this small victory in their little secret. Drake was staring at her in awe as she took one last sip. A wide grin crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and leaned in towards her.

“I’m just so… so goddamned happy.”

Drake set the bottle down on the porch rail and beamed at Tabitha, clasping her shoulders and rubbing in affectionate circles as he beamed from ear to ear.

“We did it, Carlisle. This is what we’ve been talking about since, god... since we first hooked up, right? You and me, and Liam. We’re actually doing this crazy thing tonight. I never, ever thought we’d be able to convince him, but I should never have doubted you. You just have this way of bringing people together. Carlisle, I lo—“ his voice trailed off and his smile faltered for just a moment as he weighed the meaning of the words he was about to say,

“What?”

Drake’s expression became reverent. “I love you, Carlisle... Tabitha, I love you.” he spoke with such gentleness it was almost whispered. His hand stroked up the base of her neck and cupped the back of her head underneath her hair, pressing gently against the sensitive spot just under her ear, causing her breath to stutter.

“Drake...”

He smiled as his eyes searched hers, cupping her face in his warm hands, “What? Is it that much of a surprise to you?”

“No, I know you do. It’s just so nice to hear you admit it to me, finally.” Her arms snaked around the small of his back, “I love you too, Drake. So damned much.”

He pulled her by her hips to press against his own, then skimmed the back of his knuckles against her cheekbone as she closed her eyes and inhaled, savoring his touch in the charged moment they were sharing. “Well, I think that means I’m going to have to kiss you now.”

Tabitha opened her eyes again with a wry grin up at him, “You’d better.”

Drake wrapped his arms around her and looked animatedly over his shoulder as if to check to see if either of their lovers were watching them, “Nah, I don’t care who sees us anymore.”

Tabitha had just a short moment to get lost in the heated stare of longing in Drake’s eyes before they closed, half lidded, and his lips found hers, fitting together before she skimmed his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue to coax it open. It had been so long, too long, since Drake had allowed himself to kiss her like this: sure of his love for her, and sure of Liam’s blessing in this place of refuge they had created & built for this very purpose. Her knees went weak just as his arms braced around her torso and they melted into each other, breathless, desperate and hungry for touch. And all too soon, their embrace was interrupted.

“Oi! Cut that out!” Maxwell came bounding to them up the back-porch stairs, possessively pulling Tabitha’s torso away from Drake and tickled her as he playfully kissed the side of her neck. “Tabz! I’m here to save you from this random vagrant! He looked like he was about to devour your face off!”

“Maxwell! stahp!” She protested through fits of giggles. “You’re incorrigible.”

Maxwell’s arms wrapped round her with his fingers laced together under her belly from behind, and he bent down, resting his chin on her shoulder as he rocked her, gloating to his old friend. “Sorry, Drake. You know how it is. ‘Queen’s Retinue’ duties and all of that.”

“I know where I’d like you to shove your ‘Queen’s Retinue duties’ right now...”

Maxwell stepped in front of Tabitha scowling, momentarily emboldened by Drake’s challenge, “Fight me.”

Tabitha pulled back on Maxwell’s shirt collar to no avail “Max, please. This is ridiculous. Stop.”

Drake cracked his knuckles in fists at his sides.

“You asked for it...”

It took Maxwell all of 30 seconds after he challenged Drake for him to regret it. “Wait! No, don’t! seriously? Liam just asked me to bring you two inside for lunch. And we have to make it ourselves since you both insisted there should be no staff working on site while we’re here! Ha! Great idea, guys.” Maxwell put his thumbs up as his voice dripped with sarcasm.

“No staff means no outside witnesses when I decide to wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Um... How about we wait ‘till after lunch?”

..........

The crew of four had lunch and spent the remainder of the day relaxing at the cabin. Four o’clock came around, and Tabitha rose to her feet. “All right boys, I’m going to go take a nice hot shower, maybe a soak in the tub first, then a shower, and get myself ready. For tonight. For us.” She stood up and winked, and they all stood up to bid her farewell.

She went to Liam first, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head before hooking a finger under her chin to tilt her head up to him. Her blue eyes sparkled at him, smiling crinkled the corners. “God you’re beautiful. I look forward to meeting with you again, soon, my love.”

“Liam” she whispered, “darling, I love you. So much. I’m so happy. Thank you, for everything. I want you to have fun with the boys relaxing tonight, ok? It’ll help your nerves. “ She could feel his hands trembling slightly as he cupped her face.

“Right, I know you’re right. You always are.” He bent down as she raised herself on tiptoes to kiss her softly on the lips, letting the kiss linger and open softly, grazing her tongue lightly with his before he pulled back and clasped her shoulders. “I love you too,”

Tabitha squeezed Liam’s hand before she let it drop as she moved to Drake, reaching for his hand hooked in his jean belt loops. “Drake, this house, this moment, everything, it’s perfect. None of this wouldn’t have been possible without you. Thank you.”

Drake wrapped her in a strong bear hug, pulling her tightly to his chest as he kissed her head and whispered in her ear, “I think you have that wrong. You’re the reason we’re all here. You made this happen. It’s your magic that set everything in motion.”

“So, a team effort then?” She smirked and winked at him, making Drake weak in the knees. He pulled her in for one last embrace before she pulled away, saving her Max for last.

Maxwell and Tabitha reached out for each other’s hands. He pulled her to him, and their hips met as flush as they could get with a nearly five-month pregnant belly separating them both. His hands took hers and rolled her arms in a dance and he met her gaze with raised brows, “Do you need any help drawing your bath? Or getting anything else in the room ready? I’m happy to help.”

“You are too good to me Max, no, I’ll be fine. These two will need you to get them relaxed. You brought the good stuff right?”

“You know it, I’ve got that under control.”

“If you’re sure then…” Maxwell kissed her hand and twirled her, giddy under his arms as her body curled up against his back. He bent down and caught her top lip in his before her mouth opened and his sighed into her. She pulled away reluctantly and dragged her hand down his arm before she squeezed his hands one last time.

“Ok. Have fun boys, and behave.  I love you all. And remember,” she laced her fingers together as she turned around one last time before heading to the master bedroom “Circle of Trust!” Her shoulders fell as she sighed audibly one last time before turning on her heels and heading towards the master suite.

……….

“It’s not working.”

“No, see… you have to click it five times fast, like this.”

Liam inhaled deeply, he never liked the smell or taste of marijuana and the sooner he got high enough to not care about either of those things, the better.

His hand holding the vape pen fell to rest on the white Turkish cotton spa towel covering his knees while the smoke billowed out of his mouth and nostrils as he spoke.

“I don’t feel anything yet.”

Maxwell clucked his tongue as he helped himself to the pen resting on Liam’s lap to take a hit. “Geez, don’t be such a noob. It doesn’t take effect the moment you start smoking. Give it a few minutes.” Maxwell leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes as he took a drag and blew it out in a large, dense cloud.

“Check out the expert over here.” Drake snatched the pen from Maxwell’s hand, took a long drag for himself and then passed it back to Liam. “It’s true though. Apparently you’ve had more experience at all of this than either of us.”

“Experience at what?”

“Party drugs... Group sex...”

“Well yeah, when you’ve been to the kind of parties I have, the orgies are pretty standard.”

Drake coughed purposefully to hi-light his mocking.

“‘standard’... ‘orgies?’”

“Well, yeah... I mean...”

Liam and Drake both stared at Maxwell pointedly, waiting for him to finish the thought. He was sweating profusely as he began to understand how the casual tone of the words falling out of his mouth must sound to them. ‘Circle of Trust’... shit...

“I always got tested regularly!”

Drake’s brow furrowed and he sneered at Maxwell, “You just used the past-tense.”

“That’s because I never...” Maxwell’s voice trailed off and he mumbled the rest, clearly too embarrassed to be speaking about such intimate issues in front of his two old friends.

“What was that, Beaumont?”

“I meant to say that I haven’t slept with anyone else since we met Tabitha. The last rager-party I went to where I hooked up with someone was before your first bachelor party, Liam, before we met Tabitha... and I haven’t...”

“You haven’t had sex with anyone else since we met Carlisle? I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true! I wouldn’t lie about that. I know what’s at stake.”

“I believe him.”

“Wait a damned minute, Maxwell. I remember seeing Tariq strutting out of your hotel room the night we met Carlisle in New York. You’re telling me that was ‘nothing’?”

“Exactly, because I turned him down. Nothing happened, swear to god.”

Drake turned towards Liam, “You believe him?”

Liam looked Maxwell square in the eye and could sense the sincerity he projected. “I do.”

Maxwell continued replying to Drake, “Just because someone walks outta your hotel room, doesn’t mean that you’ve hooked up with them. You should know that. With Tariq in particular. You were there the night he tried to assault Tabitha.” Maxwell could feel himself getting angrier. He stared pointedly at Drake, hoping he’d drop the matter, and if he didn’t, Maxwell had half a mind to bring up that time in Paris when he saw Drake leaving Kiara’s hotel room late at night. I’ll bring it up, right in front of Liam, too. I don’t care. Just try me.

Drake persisted,

“So why, then? Was it because you were hoping to hook up with Carlisle? Was that your plan all along when you decided to sponsor her?”

“Fuck… no! Stop trying to think you understand my motives. ‘Cause you clear as hell don’t.”

“Yeah, but I know you, Maxwell.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Tabitha, she changed me. When we were going through Social Season I saw her with you, Liam. The connection you guys had was magical. I don’t know a better way to describe it-- it still is, and I realized that’s what I wanted to find someday, too. So I decided I was going to stop partying and stop sleeping around. But I never dared to imagine that we’d all end up like...” Maxwell’s thought trailed off. This was a getting lot heavier than most subject matters he was used to discussing while getting high.

Liam could sense Maxwell’s discomfort and attempted to change the subject, as he himself started to feel too buzzed to discuss such pressing matters, “Look, what’s done is done. I harbor no ill feelings towards you, Maxwell. And you,”

He turned re-directing his comment at Drake before he finished the sentence,

“need to... fucking, relax...” Liam’s shoulders shrugged, and he started giggling with an uncharacteristically wide goofy grin. The smoke poured out of his mouth and nostrils as he passed the pen to Drake, putting his hand on the inside of Drake’s thigh so that it began to push up the towel covering his lap, his head bent towards him as he looked down at Drake’s lips.

“Damn, Lee. You’re so high right now.”

“I know how to get you to shut up.”

“Then fuckin’ do it.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

Liam growled, “You know…” His eyes flickered back and forth from Drake’s lips to his dilated pupils and back again as he leaned in closer with a hand on Drake’s lap. The towels covering them both fell as they angled their heads and leaned into each other

“Yes, sire…”

“Fuck…”

Liam lips captured Drakes and their tongues began to twist together. Drake groaned in Liam’s mouth as his arms wrapped around his shoulders and he dipped him down on the wood bench.

Maxwell’s vision seemed to get cloudier. Did someone put more water on the rocks? It suddenly felt stiflingly hot and overwhelming as the sauna seemed to shrink before his eyes. Was he just really high? Or was the act of watching two of his oldest friends making out in front of him turning him on more than he had anticipated it would do to him? Their hands were all over each other, moaning just a bit too loudly for Maxwell’s taste. He felt like he was intruding on their privacy.

“Um… hey, you guys?” he spoke in a whisper under his breath, thinking out loud… but Liam and Drake were too wrapped up in making out to hear him “What’s the saying? ‘If you can’t join ’em… beat it?’ Heh-heh…”

Maxwell clicked the vape pen five times fast to start it up again and closed his eyes while blowing out the smoke out his nostrils as his hand reached down for his dick, already nearly erect at half-mast. His thoughts took him back to the shower in the Royal Chambers with Tabitha, how she rode him so slowly it made him ache. He remembered how the water droplets raced down her breasts as they bounced against his chest, how smooth her back was as he held her, the soft sounds she made as she neared climax…

“Bloody hell, Maxwell?! where have you been hiding... that—?”

Maxwell startled from his trance and he looked down, realizing he now had an audience as he jacked off. Drake and Liam were both back to sitting on the opposite bench, wide eyed slack jawed, staring at him and all of his 9 and a half inches. He stopped pumping his cock abruptly and gulped as his knees reflexively shut together, pulling his towel back over them.

“Um...in... my pants?”

“Clearly you are... a man of... hidden depths?” Liam fought an attempt to keep a straight face but failed when he couldn’t keep from snickering.

Drake snorted, “That’s one way to put it!”

“I’m going to take that compliment and run with it, Liam, thanks.”

Drake had been laughing so much he had to wipe the tears from his eyes and catch his breath before he spoke again, “Goddamnit, Maxwell, I’ll admit I never could understand what Carlisle saw in you before today, but... now?...I get it.”

“Oh fuck you. That’s not the only reason!”

“Pffft...Isn’t it?!?”

“Shut-the-fuck-up!”

He snapped his wet towel at him

“HAHahahaHA! Fuuuuck this is some good shit, I am... so high right now? I take it back, Maxwell. Your dick is huge, and every now and then you come up with some fan-fuckin’-tastic ideas. Like this weed vape. We definitely need to do this more often, Lee.” He leaned in to press his lips against Liam’s smile and ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth before taking another drag of the vape and passing it back to Liam

Maxwell took a big sip from his water bottle. “It’s nice to see you finally appreciating me, Drake. Thanks, man.”

Liam blew his toke out the side of his mouth, finally getting the hang of it, as he attempted to return to serious conversation. “So, are we really going to go through with this?”

“Damn right we are. And we better get started before I think better of including Beaumont, here.”

Maxwell scoffed, “Good thing it’s up to Tabitha and not you then, assmunch”

“You’d like it if I ‘munched’ your ass, wouldn’t you?”

Maxwell wiggled his eyebrows “Not as much as you’d enjoy ‘munching’ it”

Liam let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes and dragging a hand over his face in dramatic disgust while the other two dissolved into fits of giggles. Drake broke his laughter, wheezing, to say, “Nah, that’s never going to happen.”

.........

“So I’ll be taking Tabitha from the front, first. I am her husband and I am king after all. That ought to count for something.”

Maxwell took another long toke, and winced, squinting thoughtfully. “Seems fair.”

Drake guffawed, “no it isn’t! But that’s the whole point of the monarchy isn’t it? To not be fair.”

Liam gritted his teeth, “So that’s how you really feel?”

Drake closed his eyes and covered his face, only trying halfheartedly to keep from laughing more. Liam continued grilling him

“Tell me? What’s next? Are you going to start running around shouting ‘Eat the Rich!’ and spray-painting anarchy symbols all over the Palace walls?”

Maxwell giggled, “Heheheh... That’d be pretty funny.”

“Nah, Lee. If I end up painting giant letter “A”s on anything, it’s gonna stand or “Ass” “‘cause I fucking love yours. And Carlisle’s, for that matter... damn that’s a good piece of ass… But not yours, Maxwell.”

“Shuddup!”

“Enough! You two. Jesuschrist. Drake: Tabitha discussed wanting you to take her from behind for the entire duration. I believe that’s best…”

“I already talked about this with her before we came here y’know… you don’t have to-- "

“Did you, now? Fine, then Maxwell, after I’ve had her, you’ll take my place.”

“I’m down with that, but… why does this feel like you’re coaching us on plays before the big game or something Liam? It’s just sex…”

“ ‘Just sex’ Is that how you’d define it? Didn’t you have to plan out the details before your past ménage trysts?”

“Umm… nope? They kinda just, happened?” he winced and covered his eyes, the memories were making him blush, desperate to move the subject on from his past.

“Well I do feel, if we’re going to make this work, we need to have this planned out. Perhaps you’d be well advised to bring some more planning into your life for once, Maxwell…”

“Dude, dude… you’re going off… She’s gonna get mad if you’re in a pissed off mood when we start.” Drake chuckled, “Damn, Lee. Never figured you’d be an ‘angry stoner.’”

Max rolled his lips together in an attempt to keep from laughing. It didn’t work. His shoulders heaved as he spoke, “Pfft! Yeah, he’s pretty intense at micromanaging everyone when he’s sober, but this is some next-level shit”

Drake leaned forward wide eyed towards Maxwell, laughing with a side-five slapping his hand in agreement, “Right?”

“Would you two just--” Liam pouted, leaning against the wall. He was not amused.

Drake and Max both choked on their laughs as they tried to get serious again. “Nah, Liam. It’s cool. I’m down for whatever makes you guys happy; whatever makes Tabitha happy. We both love her, and I want us to make this work just like you do.”

“That’s good to hear from you, Maxwell. I’m glad it appears we’re on the same page.”

Drake leaned his arm on Liam’s shoulder, leaning down to kiss and murmur against his neck, “But I think you’re gonna have to relax a bit more before we go in there, Lee…” His lips captured Liam’s as they moved in a slow, licentious dance together.

Maxwell took another hit off of the vape. He was past the point of feeling awkward in front of the two lovers now but being high didn’t do wonders for his tact. “Hey,” he called out to them from across the bench, “So, who’s the top and who’s the bottom?”

Liam broke away from Drake, only slightly incredulous at Maxwell’s question before he answered, “That’s a bit personal, don’t you think?”

“I mean… I think it’s a pretty valid question… considering what we’re about to all do— hey!”

Drake reached over and grabbed the pen from Maxwell to take a drag of his own. “We’re switch, verse. I dunno, whatever you ‘kids’ call it these days.” Liam nodded once silently, looking slightly uncomfortable and trying not to blush. Drake continued, “What about you, Beaumont?”

“Kid?” His nervous laughter belied more than the incredulity of someone less than a year older than him calling him ‘kid’, “I…I only ‘top’ now… I had a bad experience years ago…” his voice trailed off to almost a whisper.

Liam held his hand out to pause the need for explanation. “You don’t need to elaborate, Maxwell. It’s good that we’re being open about this though.”

“Yeah… I—” Maxwell felt his iWatch vibrate with the text notification scrolling across the tiny screen from Tabitha:

Tabitha 👑🌸 

Babe! It’s time! Where r u boys? Don’t make me come in there!! 😘😘😘 

Saved by the buzz.

............

TO BE CONTINUED !!!

Thanks so much for continuing to read and for all of the feedback, reblogs and support <3 :)

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[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Daughter of a Righteous Man- Chapter 30

*SEQUEL TO THE LOOK IN HER EYES*

After her husband is drug to Hell, Ava Winchester and her brother in law Sam try their best to do right by Dean and raise her daughter, only to find that good intentions aren’t always enough. Loving someone isnt always enough.

Chapter Thirty, The Time Has Come for Letting Go

Ella

About sixteen years later

"Hey, Dad," I said, poking my head into his bathroom. He was shaving, and cream covered half of his face. He quirked an eyebrow.

"Hey, kid."

"Sorry I'm such an ass."

"Me too, for the record." He winked at me, running the razor over his skin, leaving a line in the cream.

"I see where I get it." I grinned, walking past him. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, and watched him rid himself of stubble. He always looked younger when he was bare faced. "You mad at me?"

"Never." Dad smiled at me. "I made you, which means I'm never gonna be mad at you. Frustrated at times, but never mad."

"Hm." I looked down at my hands. "Even if I told you I was wasted when Claire found me?"

"Steal my good whiskey that I've been saving?"

"What? No."

"Then, nah I'm not mad. You're a good kid, El. The reason you're so upset is because of me, so I don't blame you for drowning it a bit."

I shook my head. I couldn't ask for a better dad. Claire was right. "They were setting up for the Halloween festival."

"Oh yeah? That time already?"

"Mhm. If you don't have any cases lined up I was thinking... maybe we could all go, like as a family. Dads, Jackie, Claire, the whole nine."

"What about the newest member?"

"What?"

"Clementine." He grinned at me, before splashing his face with water.

"Christ, Dad. No, the cat isn't coming."

"She's kind of cute, though. If you get past the initial shock factor. Actually kinda looks like you when you were a baby,” he teased.

"I'm so bad at rebellious activity. I'm failing miserably."

"You have no idea how happy that makes me, kid." Dad leaned forward and placed a kiss on my head. "I think the festival sounds like a great time. I'll talk to Sammy and Cas about it."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, and buried my face in his chest. "I really miss you when you leave, you know."

He wrapped his arms around me protectively, like he'd been doing all my life. "I know,” he murmured. "I miss you too."

"Did Mom go on cases with you?" I asked when we released each other from our hug.

"Yeah." He smiled. "She was damn good, too. Saved my tail multiple times. She had this way about her. She could put together a puzzle without lookin at the picture on the box. She was always finding the answer. She said she had instinct, which was true, but she also was fighting against her gender. The hunter world is like all the others, a mans world. And fuck did she make us all regret feeling that way." He laughed.

He seemed so effortless, lost in the memory. His green eyes seemed far away. He closed them for a moment. "Sammy and I walked into a trap, and she saved our ass. Us and uncle Bobby." He laughed lightly. "She put two and two together in a way I never could."

"Bet she didn't let you live that save down."

He laughed and grinned at me. "No way. She rubbed it in all the time. That was... that was the first night I spent with her." He met my eyes. "You probably don't want to hear about that. Your parents as people and all."

"No." I reached for his hand. "If you want to tell me, I want to hear it. I want to hear about how you fell in love."

Maybe it was the fact that we weren't fighting, or maybe that I knew he was going to die that made him crack open to me. He exposed his soft under belly, and I was going to poke it. I had to.

"I got hit real hard in the head. Kind of fucked up my inhibitions." He looked down, touching the back of his head, like he was in the memory. "She was watching me, to make sure I didn't die in my sleep. I told her I thought she was beautiful. Cute to be exact, and she didn't like that. Thought I was patronizing her. She chewed me out, and I had to explain... I meant she was cute. She was beautiful. Hell, kid, she was everything I didn't know I wanted."

"How'd she react to that news?" I asked, literally on the edge of my seat.

"She told me we couldn't have anything. ‘t was too dangerous. Not even for a night."

"But?"

"But I convinced her." He grinned. "I'm basically irresistible."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help smiling along with him. "What then?"

"We stayed together all night. I think that was the night I realized that I was in deep. Before I knew I didn't want to live without her, and that was the night that I knew I couldn't ever lose her. So when she said it was a one night only occurrence I had to agree, even though it hurt like hell."

"It obviously didn't last."

He looked down bashfully and sighed a bit. "No. It didn't last. Nothing ever does." He looked back at me. "I'm tired. Raincheck, kiddo?"

"Of course," I said, quietly. A pang in my chest. I knew I hurt his feelings. I poked the wrong place and he curled back into himself, covering that vulnerable spot. I stood up and hugged him one more time. "Night, Daddy. Love you." I kissed his smooth, minty cheek.

"Love you too, Nel."

Dean

Present

"Where the fuck?" I was in my kitchen with my wife. She held baby Nel in her arms, and I was leaning in to kiss her. I leaned forward to press my lips to hers and I fell forward. She was gone, and when I opened my eyes I was in a weird, white, sterile room. There was a round table and two chairs. One door and no windows. I suddenly felt really fucking claustrophobic.

"Hello, Dean. It's almost time."

I turned, recognizing the gruff voice. "Cas? You literally ripping me out of the arms of my wife?"

Cas blinked numbly at me, and I turned again, feeling eyes on the back of my head.

Zachariah smiled at me. I'd met the angel a few times, and he always gave me the creeps. The gray whisps coming off his head seemed to float, like he was electrically charged at all times.

"Hello, Dean. You're looking fit."

"Well, how 'bout this? The Suite Life of Zach and Cas." I stared at the two angels. It was like talking to a fucking wall. I pinched the bridge of my nose with a sigh. "It's a... never mind. So, what is this? Where the hell am I?" I gestured to the room.

"Call it a Green Room. We're closing in on the grand finale, here. We want to keep you safe before showtime." He snapped his fingers, a few beers and a pile of bacon cheeseburgers appeared on a large platter. I raised an eyebrow. If things didn't smell so fucking fishy I'd be stoked. I realized, with a growl of my stomach, that I couldn't remember the last meal Ava and I had that didn't consist of just black coffee. "Try a burger. They're your favorite. From that seaside shack in Delaware. You were 11, I think."

"Not hungry."

"No? How about Ginger from season 2 of Gilligan's Island? You do have a thing for her, don't you?"

I gasped dramatically. "Zach, I'm married."

"We'll throw in Mary Ann for free."

I rolled my eyes. This dude was fucking weird. "No, no. Let's... bail on the holodeck, okay? I want to know what the game plan is."

"Let us worry about that. We want you... focused, relaxed."

I flexed my hands at my sides. Ava was going to be seriously worried. I felt my pants pocket. Empty, of course. My phone was on the kitchen counter. "Well, I'm about to be pissed and leaving, so start talking, Chuckles."

Zach clasped his hands with a sigh. "All the seals have fallen. Except one."

"That's an impressive score. That's... that's right up there with the Washington Generals."

"You think sarcasm's appropriate, do you? Considering... you started all of this? But the final seal... it'll be different."

I frowned, not liking being reminded of Hell. Keep me comfortable my ass. "Why?"

"Lilith has to break it. She's the only one who can. Tomorrow night at midnight."

I stood up a little straighter. It was time. "Where?"

"We're working on it."

"Well, work harder!" I shouted. This guy was testing my patience. I glanced at Cas who was silently pressed against the wall, avoiding me.

"We'll do our job," Zachariah promised. "You just make sure you do yours."

I crossed my arms. "Yeah, and what is that, exactly? If I'm supposed to be the one that stops her, how? With the knife?"

I lazy smile touched Zachariahs lips. "All in good time."

I narrowed my eyes. "Isn't now a good time? You know, before she breaks the seal?"

"Have faith."

"What, in you? Give me one good reason why I should." I took a step closer to him.

"Because you swore your obedience. So obey."

I looked to Cas again, this time I caught him looking at me, but he immediately averted his gaze. What the hell is going on here? There was something they weren't saying. Something Cas wanted to say, but couldn't. He was an open book, that kid.

"I do want something, after all."

Zachariah raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What can I get you?"

"I want to talk to Cas. Alone."

Zachariah glanced at Cas, and groaned. "Fine. Castiel you have your orders." He pointed before snapping his fingers, and disappearing into thin air.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Cas asked, not stepping any closer to me.

"Yeah, man. I do. Listen, I need you to take me to see Sam," I said desperately. Something felt wrong, and I was worried. Ava was right, of fucking course she was. If it walks like a duck, it's probably a fucking duck, and the confined spaces of my new digs were making me feel like this duck had teeth.

"I cannot allow that."

I walked to him. "What's wrong with you? Of course you can. I just need to talk to him, Cas. Bring him here. I don't care."

"You want to speak to him after how your last conversation went?"

"That's exactly why."

"He is dangerous, Dean. He has consumed a lot of demon blood," Cas said gently.

I winced. I was hoping otherwise, but I wasn't exactly surprised.

"We need to protect him. We need to stop him from jumping into the ring with Lilith. If I can take her down... we have to help Sam before he gets killed."

"I'm sorry, Dean. I can't do that."

"So what? Am I trapped here?"

"Of course not."

"Then I want to go for a walk," I said flatly, eyeing the door.

"I'm not sure that's wise."

"What the fuck is happening, Cas? Just be a man! Just tell me!"

Suddenly Zachariah poofed back into the room.

"Christ, man. You don't know how to knock," I complained. "Let me out of here," I said right to Zachariah.

He shook his head. "Can't. It's too dangerous out there. Demons on the prowl."

I laughed out loud and shook my head. "Yeah, I don't buy that for a second. I've been getting my ass kicked all year. Now you're sweating my safety? You're lying. I want to see my brother."

"That's... ill-advised."

"You know, I am so sick of your crap riddles and your smug, fat face. What the hell is going on, huh? Why can't I see Sam? And how am I gonna ice Lilith?"

Zachariah sighed and rubbed his temples. Didn't know angels got headaches, but it seemed like I annoyed Zach into getting one. "You're not going to ice Lilith."

"Excuse me?"

"Lilith's going to break the final seal. Fait accompli at this point. Train's left the station."

"But me and Sam, we can stop..." It was like someone turned the lights on. Like I'd been sitting in the darkness. "Holy fuck. You don't want to stop it, do you?"

"Nope. Never did. The end is nigh,” he said casually. "The apocalypse is coming, kiddo, to a theater near you."

I clenched my fists, my daughter's face flashing in my mind. I've been so stupid. "What was all that crap about saving seals?"

"Our grunts on the ground...we couldn't just tell them the whole truth. We'd have a full-scale rebellion on our hands. I mean, think about it. Would we really let 65 seals get broken unless senior management wanted it that way?"

"But why?" I glanced at Cas. He was avoiding my eyes again. Fucking coward.

"Why not? The apocalypse? Poor name, bad marketing ya know? Puts people off. When all it is is Ali/Foreman on a slightly larger scale, and we like our chances. When our side wins it's paradise on earth. Now, what's not to like about that?"

"Sounds too good to be true," I said smugly. "What happens to all the people during your little pissing contest?"

"Well... you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. In this case... truckloads of eggs, but you get the picture. Look, it happens. This isn't the first planetary enema we've delivered."

Suddenly I was glad that my brother wasn't here. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was our only hope. "What about Sam? He won't go quietly. He'll stop Lilith."

"Sam... has a part to play. A very important part. He may need a little nudging in the right direction, but I'll make sure he plays it."

"What the fuck does that mean? What are you gonna do to him?"

"Forget about him, would you? You have larger concerns. Why do you think I'm confiding in you? You're still vital, Dean. We weren't lying about your destiny. Just omitted a few pertinent details. But nothing's changed. You are chosen. You will stop it. Just not Lilith, or the apocalypse. That's all."

"Which means?"

Zach smiled, causing my stomach to drop. "Lucifer. You're going to stop Lucifer."

I felt like the room was spinning. "Tell me something. Where's God in all this?"

Zach laughed humorlessly. "God? God has left the building."

I pulled back my fist, wanting nothing more than to knock this smug son of a bitch out, but he blinked away from me again, right as my fist was about to collide with his jaw.

I fell to my knees and shouted, slamming my fists into the stark white tile.

"Dean," Cas said weakly.

I looked up at him desperately. "What are you gonna do to Sam?"

"Nothing. He's gonna do it to himself."

"What's that supposed to mean? God, just say what you mean! For once in your fucking life be honorable. I know Ava talked to you about that. I know that's why you healed me. We have somethin, Cas. Don't act like you don't know it. You aren't like these cold bastards,” he said nothing. Blank, like a fucking statue. Maybe I was wrong all this time. "Yeah, well, fuck you too. Why are you even here?"

"We've been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it ended like this."

I pulled myself to my feet. "Sorry? That's fucking rich man!" I said, my fist colliding with his jaw. I needed to hit something. Anything. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hold my daughter. I wanted to say goodbye, because the longer I was here, the more I realized that I would lose that chance. "It's Armageddon, Cas. You need a bigger word than sorry."

Cas sighed, not even moved by my hit, even though my own knuckles throbbed. "Try to understand. This is long foretold. This is your..."

"Destiny? Don't give me that bullshit. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families... My wife, my baby, my brother. Family. That's real. And you're really gonna watch them all burn?"

Cas finally broke. He raised his voice, poking me in the chest. "What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you, Dean. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace, even with Sam. Ava and Eleanor will be there, too."

"Don't you fucking say their names." I clenched my fist and shook my head, avoiding his striking blue eyes. "You can take your peace and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. Ava's always told me that anything worth having hurts. The idea of losing it can tear you apart, but that's what makes it worth having." I turned back to him. "This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it." He turned away from me, and I grabbed his shoulder. "Look at me, damn it! Help me, Cas!"

Cas paused for a moment before answering. "What would you have me do?"

"Get me to Sam," I said, desperately. "We can stop this before it's too late."

"I do that, we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed."

"If there is anything worth dying for... this is it," I told him, but he shook his head and sighed. "So, what? I offer to help you. You fuckers lie to me, and now I don't even get to say goodbye before you blow up the planet and for some cheap ass promise of paradise. I've heard it all before." I shook my head. "It's never what they say it is, Cas. One mans paradise is another mans Hell, and you know that I know all about Hell."

"Dean..."

"No, you spineless, son of a bitch. I'm done. We're done here."

The room was empty again, and I fell to the floor. I closed my eyes, wishing I could reach out to Ava. To pray to her like I could to the angels. Baby if you can hear me, I'm so sorry. I did what I thought was right, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong... again.

I hit my head against the wall a few times, wishing for some clarity that I knew wouldn't come. It couldn't come. Sam was going to die hunting Lilith. The world was going to burn. I wouldn't see Nel grow up, or kiss Ava again. When was our last kiss? I couldn't even remember.

Great.

Squeak. I opened an eye, to see Cas shuffling across the floor in his cheap, brown dress shoes. They made this annoying rubber sound against the tile. "What are you doing here? I told you to go. God, let me just be miserable in peace."

Cas ignored me, rushing to the wall, he took a blade and sliced open his hand. I stood up slowly as he started painting in his own blood. "What are you?"

Zachariah poofed in, almost as if an alarm went off saying Hello Castiel is rebelling, again, wee woo wee woo. "Castiel what do you think you're doing?"

Cas turned to Zachariah, holding his hand up to the sigil. The same one Anna had drawn so long ago. "I'm choosing honor,” he said before pressing his palm to the sigil, sending Zachariah flying out of the room.

"Cas?"

"He won't be gone long. We have to find Sam now,” he said, his hand wound already healed.

"Where is he?" I asked, rushing to him.

"I don't know," Cas shook his head. "But I know who does. We have to stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith."

I frowned. "But Lilith's gonna break the final seal."

He shook his head, grabbing my forearm with a strength that I wouldn't expect from such a little guy. "Lilith is the final seal. She dies, the end begins."

—————

Chapter Thirty-One, We Would Always End Here

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[noxus-the-venomous-blog]

2.3 forwarding audio

“NO I WILL NOT BE QUIET!!!” Big Problem shouted at the small annoyed security guard, “SLAP A BOB AND ME AND CALL ME BECKY CAUSE I'M GONNA NEED TO SEE YOUR MANAGER!”

“Sir there is no manager, it’s a security team. You can call the security company and file a complaint but you still have to move along.”

“I'm not leaving here till I talk to someone.”

“The only way that would happen is if I call in backup and i'm not doing that for you to complain.”

BP’s eyes lit up with fiery inspiration. “SO I'M NOT WORTH CALLING IN BACKUP?!” He reached forward and grabbed the man by the collar. As his hands touched the man's clothing, BP’s power activated. The guard became lighter and BP lifted him high into the air. The frightened man scrambled for the radio sheathed on his chest.

“Uhhh guys we have a situation in the front!”

“Are you going to need backup?”

The man's eyes widened as BP holds him closer. “I think you do boy.”

--------

Mission 64 Equipment Live Test #50

Noxus and Tranquil waited patiently in the corner of the facility. He was fiddling with the PDA looking object he had purchased. It had a horrific appearance of old parts and new parts loosely wired together. It looked like something he would have made himself except more reliable. Let's see. He turned it on and waited while it slowly booted. He was tapping the side of the unit anxiously making small patterns to distract himself. Once fully loaded, he began navigating the small screen.

~~WelcomeNoxus~~

>Select Function (eg 1-9

>1

>initializing

>forwarding audio

“Someone call the cops this guy can't be human!”

“We were ordered to not call the police under any circumstances!”

“THEN WHAT ARE WE… SIR DROP THE BEAM! SIR! STAND DOWN SIR STA…(static)”

>3

>Replaying

>Forwarding Audio

“STAND DOWN! SIR”

>1

>Writing

>Clip saved

He then nodded at tranq, letting her know they were ready to move on. The lobby was empty now and a door left open by security made it much easier to proceed. They went through the main room and up the stairs to a large empty room, likely a banquet hall or conference area. They took a silent position in the storage room. Tranq tapped a device on her ear twice, signalling to big problem outside, as Noxious re-established radio connection.

>1

>Forwarding audio

>.....

>Transmission closed

>Forcing open coms

>Forwarding Audio

“AND THAT'S IF YOU EVEN WALK AGAIN! COME ON YOU SCRAWNY LITTLE PRETZEL STICKS I CAN DO THIS ALL DAY! IF THE LAST THREE COULDN'T TAKE ME THEN WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOUR GOING TO DO!”

>4

>Closing open transmission

He glanced over at Tranq and held up five fingers. She then checked her palms where the number six was scribbled and gestured the number one at him before pointing all over the room. Five distracted, one unknown. They moved a slowly out of the room out into the hallway, walking back to back, checking each room meticulously before moving up to the next floor. They quickly split up however when they saw the moving light of a guard patrolling the hallways. Of course this is where they would patrol.

Tranquil ducked into a small but terrifying room filled with children's toys and lab equipment. There were crayon drawings fading on the wall and small dashes on door frames marking heights. Noxious always takes her to the nicest places... She moved through the room, carefully going around small tables with permanently affixed loop games and tiny wooden chairs. What a nightmare. She made her way to the doorway and watched the man move. Two tapping sounds came across her ear piece. He had a plan, now it was her job to figure out what. She readied a small syringe they had bought to deal with live targets and held it out. That handles one potential scenario. She hovered her hand over the pack at her side, gently coming just close to touching the button on the small smoke grenade, to be ready for another. All she could do now is trust that Noxious had a plan.

“Yeah those guys are getting their ass kicked,” the guard blurted into his radio, “sounds like they’re fighting a bear.”

>6

>Forwarding audio to port two

“No not like a real bear… You idiot it's a metaphor. I'm saying I think it's a really big guy… No way i'm going down their i'm just waiting for the backup car to get here… That's way too long, tell them if it takes longer then 10 minutes i'm getting out of here before this place gets overrun… Yeah well if your so damn noble why are you at base?”

>7

>please select file

>12

>Transmitting Audio

“WE NEED HELP!!!”

“Screw that guys y'all poked it y’all can deal with it”

“HOLY CRAP… He’ s… EATING… GREG”

“Are you screwing with me right now”

“NEGATIVE… We have a situation… COMING UP THE FRONT…. BACK AWAY”

“SCREW THIS! I'm outta here. This job was sketchy from the beginning.” the guard started briskly walking away.

STATUS

“Radio Scrambler.” Passed.

“Weaponized Acepromazine.” Undetermined.

“Distraction gas.” Undetermined.

Tranquil took off her mask, winding down the truck window and shivering as cool air chilled the sweat on her face. Noxus kept his mask on but she knew he was smiling under it. A job well done.

“Y’all missed the whole thing. At one point i hit a guy with another guy. How in the hell they didn't call the cops is beyond me!” BP joked from the front seat.

“They were ordered not to. Probably some sort of illegal business going on there. That's what makes these places perfect to target,” Noxious said, retying the rope lace on his glove, untying it, and retying it again, “that pace was weird as hell. I spent some time in a room with nothing but cameras and pictures of old people.”

Tranq leaned in and held down his knot so he could tighten it. He moved and flexed and wiggled his fingers, admiring the much better fit than previously. It made her happy to help but her smile faded. “When you were in their i was some type of strange ass kindergarten from hell. Half mad lab, half daycare drop off. Where do we find these places???”

BP cracked his knuckles on the steering wheel.  “Hey i don't ask any questions about the job other than where, when and how. It's weird work but y'all can't deny the little toys he gave you make life easier. Keep working with this guy and you two will be pros in no time.”

Tranq liked the sound of that. They had been working hard at this and leaving a lot behind. It took a lot of sacrifice but they were starting to make decent money, and when they weren’t on the scheduled assignments BP set up, her and noxious were making some real progress fixing the minds of broken people around them. She smiled and glanced over at him. He was still rotating his palms, still bending his fingers, still impressed at the tied knot. She took his hand and put it into hers.