#and not when i sat down and impaled myself on a piece of glass and didn't stop bleeding for ten minutes

[mauraderstrash]

eating a jolly rancher while watching micheal sheen and david tennet compilations has been the peak of my day so far

[maksymnielubowicz]

Service April

0. After researching what I needed for cleaning I biked to a with building supplies store called Castorama. Where I bought a trash grabber and latex gloves, the trash bags I figured I could take from my house. 

Started picking up trash on the banks of the Vistula river. Mostly picked up cigarette buts and bottle caps with the addition of some broken glass, which impaled my trash bags making me have to rush to a nearby trashcan. My setup is not ideal when it comes to picking up glass shards for that I should have equipped myself with a broom, but nevertheless I picked up most of the pieces I could along the way. I centered my attention on the promenade atop the stairs that double as a lounge area leading to the river. Curiously, I found that in the area most of the accumulated trash was around trashcans.

This time I picked up the trash from the stairs and the beaches comprised of sand and big boulders. Here there was still an abundance of the type of trash I picked up yesterday, but I found a much bigger pieces as well, including: glass and plastic bottles, cans (of which I found none on the previous day, most likely because as an incentive returning them to a store is paid), chip bags, plastic cups, and a needle. Finding bigger trash made me feel I was working at a quicker pace, even though some were buried in the sand or in the weeds which made them tougher to retrieve, they filled up my bag much more quickly. That is not to say that I omitted the small ones, it is that I cherish the experience of the weight and size of the bag increase so rapidly. 

This time I took smaller bags, seeing as they were often getting pierced before they reached their capacity. I also noticed bigger trash bins which segregated between glass and others. Because I was already in over my head with keeping one bag intact and upright to avoid spilling and open against the will of the wind, I decided to set a perimeter and work my way trough it twice, once only looking for glass and a second time for everything else. The unfortunate thing was that in this place the connection to the river was much more rocky and populated by a common weed that stings upon touch called „pokrzywa” or nettle in English, making the terrain much more hazardous. Nonetheless, when I saw trash I went and picked it up. (The picture shows just how much was laying hidden between these rocks.)

Before cleaning up I decided to have a warm beverage from my favourite caffe in the neighbourhood (circa 600 meters from the river which is next to nothing on a bike) called „STOR.” There I couldnt help but notice the litter on the streets and in the neighboring park, so last minute I decided to clean up there. In some places the trashcans were overflowing, fortunately I found a large dumpster nearby and tossed what I  found in it. 

It was Saturday so the Promenade was heavily occupied by tourists and locals, seeking to sit down with a nice view (and possibly have a drink - since public drinking is allowed in the area). I already struggled with the gaze of passersby as I disturbed their piece in a moment of leisure, so I decided to venture to the other bank of the Vistula river. One less policed and much more natural (akin to a forrest,) here also many people bivouac and drink but the trashcans are much sparser so many leave their litter where they sat. I started cleaning under the bridge by which I crossed the river, finding bottles wrappers shopping bags and a syringe. Then I cleaned up along the earthy sidewalk for a while but, I figured out that if I am to find the most I have to get to the places where people actually sit, so I followed narrower and narrower lanes and found blown out campfires and in their wake lied exactly what I was looking for. One such place even had hints that someone might be living there, with a shoe, drinking glasses, cables, and unidentifiable pieces of fabric, there I found so much I decided to clean to bags since the trash can was further rather than closer. 

[sab3rto0thed]

i forgot what it was to dissect myself peacefully. i don’t think i ever did it at all. i’ve been gnashing my teeth for a scalpel and a pair of kitchen scissors and digging into my skin like a groundhog, burrowing the same way every single day, stitching up stitches over stitches over stitches. i swallowed books and let them fall out of my gutted ribs. i chewed on metal until my teeth broke off. my lungs were a collage of nicotine and the look on your face when you told me that i didn’t like you. i liked you so much that i swallowed that too, and that was the problem.

i could write about the way you look always. i think i have. when i shoved a knife down my throat during christmas break, you all turned away. the only time my blades were relevant was when they were choicey, when you could grab them and impale me. a dissection is in process. i am the rotting limbs i study, and you carved your name into my skin over and over and over again. i thought i was used to dissection. i was not. 

if you look under the light and tilt your head at just the right angle, you will see all of the names. some were taken to me by others with their knives and my skin and a car that swallows whole. some were slitted throats and gaping mouths. some were burn prints from lighters and too-hot candle wax and all of your sexual fantasies. it’s easy to objectify a body, especially when it is made of what i am made of. 

but i have to admit, most of those names were carved by me. i hid them so well; i mean, i tore gashes down my neck with my own fingernails and painted a smile over it. i carved organs out with library cards and pressed a knife to my frame when i was thirteen. i learned greek and carved your names into the corner of my mouth, repeating the process every day like a religion. you ask me what god is, i tell you that he’s the four letters engraved into my thigh.

the point is i stripped. so used to those carvings as i was, looking in the mirror and counting them all. every letter had a different weight and i hated it. i draped myself in survival tools and hung hooks from my ears. the only artistry i have ever committed is the one where i am tearing myself apart. i didn’t show anyone those carvings, but when people started looking, i didn’t try to stop them. i hated those pieces, those names and necklaces and so much lace shoved down my throat i stopped breathing for five straight minutes in which no one flinched and everyone moved around me except for me.

it was time for someone else to examine those carvings, so i closed my eyes and let them. another dissection or not, i was ready for my body to fall out all over my hands. but when i opened my eyes, the scalpel was untouched in your hands, gleaming and bright, wiped clean from my last execution. and you looked at me with such untapped affection that it hurt worse than when i bled for five years.

we stopped talking about the names in my skin, burrowed into my lips and stitched into my fingers. you hid the scalpel, hid the knives, hid the scissors. the first time you put your arms around me, you didn’t stop. gentle gentle gentle. girls of shattered glass are hard to hold, but you always knew before i told you. you knew when to hold me. you knew what i wanted. you plucked my brain and pulled out the rotting books and the crimson pieces of tissue, and you held me. and you didn’t stop.

you told me you loved me over fifty times and every time was a different way. you didn’t ask about my skin. you made me coffee and let me cry and you knew. we didn’t talk about it, but that was the gift you had given me when you took away those blades. i communicated with carvings and screaming and blood, because i learned early that in order to make a difference, you take a slice out of the world and eat it whole. 

when you finally told me that you loved me, no stalling or qualms or hidden messages, i was long past the point of throwing up. i sat with a smile, my scars just scars, and realized that i wasn’t carving myself in that moment. i realized that i hadn’t wrapped my hands around that scalpel for at least a week.

[ghost-like-pale]

my favorite kind of friend

info: sometimes other people understand you better than you do; wilbur is on of those people. 》 teenage reader, they/them 》 irl + platonic 》 0.9k words

warnings: intrusive/depressing thoughts, intense panic attacks, hurt/comfort

a/n: i'm aware that i'm repeating myself, but thank you for all the love and support. i hope you will enjoy this piece as much as the last two.

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

this is a piece for the writing event hosted by @cherios and @ttakinou, i have the prompt "i don't know what's wrong, okay? i'm just really tired." - congratulations to the both of you♡

——♤——

04:29

the clock emitted a dimmed red glow. you groaned when you registered the time in your head for the third time since midnight. the cold breeze from the half-opened window cooled the room. the entire day you've felt tired, even though you had slept fine the evening before. sitting up, the feeling of loneliness dawned on you as you looked around in your bedroom.

the place within the walls was pitch black. there was no one. no one. you were alone. the people you called your friends weren't around. they hate you, don't they? of course they do; you're the reason they're stressed, the reason they're unhappy. they all have to look out for you, care for you, they're just putting up with you because they feel bad. this is your fault. your fault. your fault-

a sob escaped your throat and you dropped your face into your hands. pulling your knees up you let yourself cry freely into them. your senses were quickly overwhelmed; your skin was too cold, the room was too loud, your room was too dark, your head was too heavy.

—

04:31

tears, sweat and saliva drip off your contorted face, seeping into your sweatpants. it felt like the wailing and sobbing didn't have an end. your lungs expanded and deflated faster than ever while the sound of nothing bursts your eardrums. your head was hefty, but the headache it brought you made it feel light as a feather. the contradicting feelings only strengthened your panicking while you buried your face into your knees. the blanket you were trying to comfort yourself with covered you from your chest to the mattress you sat on. every word your brain told you impaled your heart.

they hate you. they should hate you. you're wasting their time with this nonsense. nothing they say is true, they're lying to you - they have to be. you're an unlovable mess who doesn't deserve to see the light of day.

—

04:33

from the bed he layed wilbur could hear a muffled voice crying softly. he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand. the sound became clearer and he figured out where it was coming from; (y/n)'s room.

he quickly made his way to your room and opened the door that lead to it. he made sure not to make the light hit your face, trying not to scare you any more. the light coming from the hallway alerted you, still staggering your already terrified mind.

"(y/n)?"

wilbur moved through the room carefully, trying not to startle you. he kneeled down and took in your distressed state; a shaking, whimpering teenager with a look that can only be described as terrified. he was reminded of his own younger years, a young boy with a scared expression flashed before him.

"(y/n), can you hear me?"

his tone was worried, the kind that made your heart slow down, even if it was just a little bit. you nodded with small movements, hoping he noticed. he picked up on your response and sighed in relief.

"can you see me?"

you moved your head so you could see his face. one of your eyes was closed and pressed against the palm of your hand, the other peeked through the cracks of your fingers. you nodded again.

"okay. (y/n), follow my lead, okay?"

you nodded once more, this time with more confidence that before. you heard a deep breath being taken, followed by an exhale that lasted a few seconds. the voice in your head quieted down to hear the full thing.

"your turn, (y/n). i know you can do it."

you lifted your head from your hands and laid both of them on your knees comfortably. your lungs spasmed a bit, but after a few tries you managed to breath a steady amount of air in and out.

"you're doing amazing, (y/n)."

you took one very deep breath to open your airpipe further. the smile you caught on wilbur's face as you exhaled made everything worth it.

"are you okay?"

wilbur took a seat on your bed while you changed your position by folding your legs and facing your body towards him.

"i'm..."

you thought about your answer for a moment. why were you so upset? was it even important? were you really going to bother him with your problems? are you-

"(y/n), hey!"

you snap out of your own head and realize you've been quiet since the moment he asked. wilbur leaned over slightly, inspecting your twitching face like he could read what you were thinking.

"i just- i don't know. i'm just so... tired."

wilbur's eyes sparked with sympathy, like he knew exactly how you felt just by looking at you. the man squeezed your hand and gave you a reassuring smile. that small gesture he made at you made you break completely. you let yourself fall into wilbur's embrace, him catching you and tightening his limbs around you. the warmth coming off his tall figure makes you more comfortable as you rest in his arms, tears spilling from your glassy eyes.

—

04:38

his arms were protectively wrapped around your still slightly trembling body, his words were sweet and genuine and his love was stronger than the loud voice coming from the back of your head. he's the best kind of friend you could have.

—

ty for reading ♡

masterlist

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Swiss Ghoul (Ghost) 18+

I realized a while ago that I always shoulder shimmy whenever I hear a song with a particularly good beat (usually Hispanic music lol), so it was about time I wrote something about Multi.

Warning: The reader has night terrors. I don’t have night terrors myself, so I apologize if I portray it incorrectly! +SMUT.

Edit: I’m adding smut at the end of this...don’t know why. This would be the first time writing something so explicit. So, 18+ 18+ 18+!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

Every night, you’d get these horrible night terrors.

It started when you were a young, after your parents died. You’d always cry or scream in your sleep. You went to the church’s Priestess for help, but she told you that there was nothing she could do. You prayed to your lord every night, hoping that he could take away your suffering. He never answered.

Eventually, almost a week of screaming every night, it was decided to move your room to the most secluded part of the abbey. You didn’t blame them. You were sure you’d get tired of listening to your screams every night too.

You knew everyone felt sorry for you, but you didn’t need their pity. You just wanted one good nights sleep...was that too much to ask?

In your room, no human could hear your screams. No human. But unfortunately, the Ghouls could. Curse their super hearing...

The Ghouls didn’t have to tell you that they could hear you, you could tell by the way they looked at you with pitiful stares every time you’d pass them in the halls in the mornings. You felt so embarrassed... 

The worst part for you was everyone in the abbey treating you like you were made of glass. You had lived with night terrors for so long now that you knew how to make sure that you didn’t get hurt. You did not need their help with that.

After one practically awful incident, you grew more and more careful of how you slept. It was when you were living in foster care, about a year after your parents died. You had already dealt with the night terrors, but that night, you got hurt. You don’t usually remember what happens when you have these episodes, but your foster parents told you that you flailing around so hard that you fell off your bed, hitting your head on the bedside table in the process.

You had to deal with the risk of getting concussions after that, and ever since you’d make sure to wherever you slept was basically safe enough for a child.

After becoming a Sister of Sin, the night terrors mellowed out for a while, but it didn’t last.

You sighed, pushing your fork around, some scrambled eggs and a sausage being the only thing left on your plate. You looked around the mess hall, it was pretty empty. You were usually one of the first ones to arrive for breakfast since you rarely got your full eight hours.

Even if the night terrors were detrimental to your sleep, you were still thankful you didn’t remember them. But ever since you got hurt, you’ll admit, you’ve been afraid of sleeping. Nowadays, you get about four or five hours every night at the most.

You suddenly think back to a psychology class where your teacher said that lack of sleep can cause early deaths and heart attacks...oh well.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Swiss’ voice called out, making you drop your silverware in shock.

“Morning.” You sighed and yawned.

“Sleep well?” He asked, making you glare at him. He grinned nervously, knowing full well of your predicament. “Bad joke? Sorry...”

Being annoyed, you still chuckle. “It’s alright.”

“Gonna eat that?” He asked, pointing at your neglected eggs and sausage.

You smiled weakly, and pushed the plate over to Swiss. “Knock yourself out.”

Swiss licked his lips in anticipation, a puddle of drool already pooling on the table. He grabbed your previously held fork and stabbed it into the greasy piece of meat. He lifted up the impaled sausage and brought it to his mouth, only to bite the bitter metal of the fork.

Swiss whined and looked around for the culprit of his stolen breakfast, only to see Dewdrop already scoffing it down. “Hey! That was mine!” Swiss fussed.

Dewdrop grinned and sucked off the leftover grease that coated his fingers. “You don’t eat sausage with a fuckin’ fork. You were basically asking for it to be stolen.”

“Civilized Ghouls use their manners!” Swiss growled.

“Swiss, when has Dewy ever been civilized?” You chuckled, making Dewdrop narrow his eyes at you.

“I told you not to call me that, brat.” He growled.

“Ha! You’re calling me a brat?!” You laughed loudly.

“You wanna meet your maker early?!” Dewdrop shouted.

“Ugh, children. Stop fighting!” Aether said suddenly, sitting down beside you, opposite of Swiss, making you feel quite protected from Dew’s empty threats.

“She started it!” Dewdrop pointed a sharp claw at you.

“If you wanna get technical, it actually Swiss that started it.”

“What?!” Swiss squeaked.

Dewdrop suddenly grinned evilly. “You know what, you’re absolutely right.” He said, Swiss immediately begging for his life before Dewdrop tackled him to the floor.

You and the rest of the Ghouls watched in amusement as Dewdrop and Swiss wrestled each other on the floor, Aether enjoyed his breakfast while watching the show.

“Hey! Hey!” 

You all looked to see Sister Imperator storming towards the group, a spray bottle in hand. She quickly sprayed a still fighting Dew and Swiss with water, forcing them to break apart.

“You Ghouls are supposed to be at practice soon! Copia is gonna waiting!”

The Ghouls suddenly remember that they had to go on tour soon, frowning when they had to leave you alone. But shooed them off anyway, you didn’t want to be the cause of their possible punishments for blowing off work.

“We’ll hang out later, okay?” Swiss smiled at you, showing his pearly white teeth, water still dripping off his silver mask.

You nodded and smiled, but frowned as soon as his back turned and headed off to the studio where they usually practiced. “Y/N,” Sister Imperator said, “can I talk to you?”

You held your breath for a moment, nervous about the grim look on her face, but you answered anyway. “Yes, of course, Sister.”

Sister took a seat where Aether previously sat, and put a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Your terrors haven’t stopped.” She stated.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “H-how...?”

“The Ghouls.” She answered. “They haven’t been getting much sleep lately. The band is suffering because of this. They just can’t focus on their music due to lack of sleep.”

You looked down embarrassed. “Sister...I’m-”

“I know it’s not your fault, dear. But...” She sighed. “It needs to stop or else they won’t be tour ready.”

Your heart almost stopped. “...are you kicking me out?” You almost cried.

“No, no, no!” She said. “Not permanently.” You nodded tearfully. “It would only be until they go on tour, dear. I promise. It’s just...they need their sleep to get the most out their practice time.”

“I understand.” You said, your voice barely passing a whisper.

“You won’t be homeless. We’ve already set up a living arrangement with a member of the church that’ll be happy to house you for awhile. Okay?”

“When do I leave?”

“Anytime tomorrow.”

You bit your lip to keep it from trembling. “Okay...I’ll go pack now if that’s okay with you Sister.” You said and got up without waiting for an answer.

You dug your nails into the soft material of your habit, willing yourself not to break down on your way to your room.

The waterworks started flowing at soon as you closed your door, throwing yourself onto the familiar comforting feeling of your bed, remembering that you wouldn’t have this bed until you got back.

It made you cry for hours, until you fell asleep...

You suddenly gasped awake, quickly trying to escape the claustrophobic feeling you felt around you. “Hey, hey, hey...shh...” You heard.

You looked up, and quickly realized who the voice belonged to. “Swiss...” You smiled, but Swiss didn’t smile. He looked worried. “What?”

You tried to sit, finding it difficult when you suddenly felt a sharp pain in the palms of your hands and forearms. You hissed in pain and looked at your arms. They were covered in scratches, and your palms had deep crescent shaped indents in them, all bleeding.

“Y/N...” Swiss frowned. “We got to take you to the infirmary.”

“No, no.” You groaned. “It’s okay. I have a first aid kit in my closet. Bottom shelf, I think.”

Swiss immediately rummaged through your closet and pulled out the kit, bringing it over to you as you sat up. “Does this happen often?” He asked while take out some antibiotic ointment.

You sighed. “Not really. I usually don’t hurt myself...it hasn’t happened in a long time.”

“I didn’t know it could get this bad...” Swiss gently took your arm, uncapping the tube. “I’m sorry.”

You smiled. “It’s not your fault. If anything, I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Swiss briefly gave you a confused look, continuing to treat your self inflicted wounds. “What do you mean?”

“Sister...she told me I’ve been keeping you all awake because of...my screaming. You Ghouls have always had better hearing than humans.” You laughed nervously.

Swiss’ eyes darkened. “She told you that?”

You nodded. “Practice hasn’t been going very well for you guys.”

Swiss sighed and shook his head, starting to wrap your hands with gauze. “I...yeah, it’s true. But it’s not your fault!”

“You’ve lost sleep because of me! How is that not my fault?”

“You can’t control what you do in your sleep, Y/N.”

“I have to leave tomorrow.” Your statement made Swiss halt his actions. “I have to stay at a Clergy member’s house until the band goes back on tour.”

“Fuck that.” Swiss suddenly said, making you blink in shock. “I’m not letting you leave.”

You chuckled bitterly. “It’s not like you have a choice.”

“I don’t care. You don’t deserve to be kicked out, even if it’s temporary. because of something you can’t control. I will go on strike, hell, all of us will.”

“Swiss...” You tried to scold, the determination in his voice making it hard for you to crush his hopes.

“Nope. Shut up.”

“Swiss.” You laughed.

“I’ll talk to Sister Imperator. I’ll convince her to let you stay.” Swiss said, looking you in the eyes. “Okay?”

You sighed in defeat. “...okay.”

Swiss finally finished treating your wounds, and put the first aid kit back in the closet. “Move over.” He ordered when he got back over to your bed.

You were confused but listened anyway. “What time is it?” You asked.

“Hmm, about ten.” He said and sat beside you.

You frowned. “You should probably leave then.”

“No, I’m staying with you.” Swiss said, making you blush. “If you want that it. Maybe it’ll sleep better?”

“Swiss, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Swiss giggled. “I don’t know if you remember, but I’m a Ghoul babe. You’d have to be really freaking strong to even leave a scratch on me.”

You giggled. “Okay then. Fine.” You said and snuggled up against Swiss, finding his muscular body quite comfortable.

“I’ll make sure you don’t hurt yourself again.” You heard him whisper before his warmth lulled you into a deep sleep.

The next morning, you woke up still in Swiss’ arms. You found it surprising that you hadn’t scared him away. You looked up to see a sleeping Swiss. His mask was slightly crooked, showing a tiny bit of skin underneath. You smiled when you heard his soft snores. You always found him adorable.

But you frowned, remembering that you had to leave the abbey today...you had to leave Swiss.

You reached up and gently poked his jaw, him groaning in reply. “Hmm?”

“It’s morning.” You said softly, looking back towards your window that had sunrays shining through.

“Oh, really?” Swiss yawned, finally opening his eyes to look at you. “Guess what?”

“What?” You smiled.

“You didn’t scream in your sleep.” He smiled.

“Really?” You almost shouted, making Swiss wince slightly.

“Mhm, you didn’t even more around that much. You mumbled a little, but other than that, you pretty much slept like a baby.”

“Huh...that’s odd. I mean, it’s great but still, kinda odd. That doesn’t usually happen. I guess that means the others Ghouls finally got some sleep too.” You laughed.

“Oh, don’t worry about them. You should be focusing on yourself.” Swiss snuggled into your neck, the cold metal raising goosebumps all over your body.

“I have to leave today...” You frowned. Swiss stayed silent, not loosing his grip on you. “Swiss...”

“I told you I’d take care of it.” Swiss said, slightly muffled. You sighed and decided to sit up, making Swiss groan. “No, come back.”

“I have start packing.” You started to get up but Swiss grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down and looking at you with an intense glare.

“I told you, I’d take care of it.” Swiss said and stood up. “Stay here. Don’t fucking leave.” He ordered.

You rolled your eyes and fake saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

As soon as Swiss left your room, you started packing your suitcase. It’s not like you didn’t trust Swiss’ abilities to talk his way out of any problem, but talking to Sister Imperator was a whole other thing. She wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit, so that was worrying.

You didn’t exactly know how Swiss was going to try to convince Sister, but you hoped he could anyway.

Meanwhile, Swiss gathered up his fellow Ghouls and explained the situation. Dewdrop made the mistake of joking around that he wouldn’t mind if you left, making Aether slap the back of the head.

But they all agreed to help out, quickly going to Sister Imperator and successfully convincing her to let you stay.

You however decided to change out of your habit, not really thinking you’d have the need to wear it in your new temporary home. It felt like you were being put in foster care all over again...

You swiftly removed your habit, neatly folding it and placing it on your dresser. You picked some comfortable clothes and briefly wondered if you should take a shower. But before you decided, Swiss barged in through the door without knocking.

You squeaked and quickly got underneath your bed covers, hiding your half naked form. But it was too late, Swiss was already wearing a smirk. “Oh, learn to knock, will ya!” You blushed furiously.

“Sorry.” He laughed. Yeah, he obviously wasn’t sorry.

As if he wanted to make you more embarrassed, he sauntered over and sat in front of you. “Swiss...” You whined and sighed.

Swiss smiled, looking over to your open suitcase and frowned. “You were packing?”

“...uh, yeah.”

“I talked to Sister Imperator. She said you could stay.” He said, still frowning.

But you grinned. “Oh my...wow, really?! That’s...Swiss, I don’t know how you did it, but thank you! I’d totally hug you right now, but well, you know.” You giggled nervously.

“Y/N...” Swiss said lowly. “Didn’t I say that I’d take care of it?”

“Uh, um...” You stuttered, suddenly nervous by Swiss’ gaze.

“Use your words, babe.”

“Uh, yeah. You did say that.” You sighed.

Swiss moved closer to you and placed a gentle hand on your knee. “So, why is it that you’re packed, huh? Did you not have faith in me?” He pouted.

“N-no...I didn’t have faith that Sister would be convinced.” You chuckled.

“Hmm, I suppose I can understand that.” Swiss said, moving even closer to you and placing his hand on your cheek. “Guess you’re stuck with me now, huh?” He smiled.

You suddenly became aware of how close he was to you when you felt his warm breath on your face. He would not stop looking into your eyes. You glanced down at his lips, feeling the urge to taste them.

Swiss smiled and leaned in, the cold metal of his mask hitting your face first then his soft lips.

You almost moaned at the pleasant feeling. You always had a soft spot for the charismatic Ghouls, now, you were finally his.

Slowly but surely, you started to feel the fabric of your duvet slid off your body. “Is this okay?” Swiss whispered.

You nodded rapidly, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

As soon as you gave consent, Swiss ripped off your coverings. Moving closer to you, he rubbed his large hands up and down your thighs. You could already feel yourself become slick with excitement.

Swiss brought a hand up to your underwear, delicately moving the article of clothing out of the way. You gasped when his cold fingers started moving in between your folds. “You’re so wet for me already, babe?” He grinned beautifully.

Swiss then inserted a finger into you, pumping in and out at a rate that made your head spin. You panted and tangled your fingers into his hair, placing the other hand on his bicep to try and steady yourself.

You moaned in pleasure when Swiss added another finger, then rubbing tight circles on your aching clit with his thumb. “Fuck, Swiss...”

Feeling a little guilty that you were getting all the pleasure, you brought your hand down from his head to palm his hardening length through his pants. “Eager, are we, Y/N?” Swiss groaned, throwing his head back slightly and chuckled.

With Swiss’ consistent pressure on your clit, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Quick shocks of intense pleasure making your body jolt occasionally. “Swiss...I’m gonna-”

Swiss quickly pulled his hand away, making you whine and almost let out a sob at the loss of contact. He grinned and brought his hand up, licking and sucking you off his fingers. “Can’t have you cumming just yet, babe.”

Swiss stood up from the bed to remove his clothes, taking off his briefs released his throbbing cock, a bead of precum already leaking out of the tip. He then hovered above you, placing himself in between your legs. “Again, you sure about this, babe?” He asked softly.

You almost groaned in frustration. “Yes, Swiss, I’m sure. Now please just fuck me!” You begged.

Swiss quickly obliged, thrusting up into you with a snap of his hips, not worrying about getting you to adjust to his size since you were already so prepared. You moaned loudly, finally feeling him stretching you out. “You feel so good.” Swiss moaned.

Swiss kept up a steady pace, his length hitting all the right places.

From already being so close to your release from his fingers before, you could feel the knot building up inside you once again. “Swiss, I’m so close.” You stuttered.

Swiss nodded and picked up the pace, close to his release as well. He thrusted into you fast and hard, making your tits bounce and your head close to hitting up against the wall. His mouth pouring out delicious moans every time he felt you clench around him.

You soon felt that familiar sensation flow throughout your entire body. The knot in you finally snapping, causing waves of ecstasy to burn through you like lava. You moaned loudly, eyes tearing up and your vision becoming hazy as you rode out your orgasm.

Swiss’ thrusts became sloppy, chasing and finally catching up to you in reaching his own climax. The shots of his warmth filling you up, making you moan in unison with him.

Swiss pulled out of you with a huff, throwing himself beside you and soon wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Wow...that was-”

“Fuckin’ amazing.” You giggled.

~~~~~~~~~~

I came up with a really dumb, cheesy title for a Multi Ghoul story. “Shimmying his way into my heart.” But I have no idea what to write to fit that title😂

Also, that was my first time writing smut so I’m sorry if it sucked. The cringeeeeeee 🙈

[frostahesmegabite]

The Judgement of Carrion

@daily-writing-challenge - Day 4 - Accomplish/Macabre [ Content warning: Blood, Guts, Gore, Bits of Torture, That sort of stuff. While there aren't pages and pages of it, it is present in this short story. I tried to find a balance of detail and keeping things light without going into ‘Hostel’ territory. ]

Human forts were a dime a dozen, easily found and half of them forgotten or falling to ruin due to the numerous war fronts that were constantly moving across the face of Azeroth to fight one force or another. Some lost to time, others to ruin, some to marauding forces and others simply abandoned because they were no longer needed. It was one of these Forts that Megahes had put to use for himself and probably his most comprehensive and long lasting pastime.

Clever little devices put into play to keep things looking abandoned and misused, neglected and falling to ruin. The place had not only been repaired but also reinforced with Magical and Mechanical Goblin ingenuity that was built upon with knowledge gained over the past several decades.

Inside of this fort, despite the fact it was never intended to receive an actual willful audience, was decorative furniture made of fine dark woods embroidered with rich velvets, soft silks and the finest wools and cottons coin could acquire. Tables stretching about with plates and goldware that no man or woman other than Megahes would ever see sat to present an atmosphere of riches on display. Trophy cases and stands line the walls with numerous weapons of both magical and mundane descent that perch over Armor Stands holding protective metal layers meant not just for Goblins, but all races.

If any ever came to somehow find the place and took the time to inspect any of it, they’d find that all of these items weren’t as ‘pristine’ as they may appear at a distance. Damage came to them all at some point or another. Blunted blades, shattered axe heads assembled to look presentable. Armor with gashes, pierced helmets or chest pieces, greaves with shorn metal by the thighs that most likely led to bleed outs.

The more one could look, the more they’d note that all of the gear was like walking through a museum of deathly wounds. All that stood or hung from the walls had a story of defeat and loss and probably before then, great triumphs, valor and victory… just to have their stories end here.

Megahes pays no mind to these things now though as he walks with his back rigid and straight, his arms back behind him with hands clasping the other arms elbow in some overly formal glide across the stone floor. His bright white and gold attire is a stark beacon amongst the dark colors and atmosphere of the room that one should have found comforting, but for some reason, only brought worry and dread with it as he moves about his untold business.

[ Artwork by the Magnificent Fishadee. No Fire or Light Shards floating about in this scene, purely put for clothing example. https://twitter.com/fishadee ] He stops, not worrying to look around for any watchers, for he knows there are none as he stops at a small wall just behind a staircase. “Rehorur decno Kudex.” A series of flashes occur around our Goblin and once completed a small stone panel slides off to the side and Megahes puts his hand into the slot. A sudden sharp ‘shing!’ sound is head and Mega’s neck tenses but for a moment before his hand is withdrawn. A mechanical but feminine voice perks up from the slot. “Welcome back.” “Hmm.” The only sound Megahes makes before he takes a step back and then to the left. The stone wall jars forward at an alarming speed, spikes erupting from her stone crevices meant to impale and kill any would-be intruders while giving Megahes the solitary moment that was needed to pass behind the crude defense into the wall beyond. Whether by measured practice or perhaps sensors, the trap quickly retreats and returns to normal, giving off no telltale signs of a hidden door or of Mega’s earlier passing.

The reason for all this secrecy? Hidden at the end of the staircase Mega was already descending. Humans had their specialties sure, jacks of all trades those people. But the one thing they never fail to make well?

Jail Cells and Prisons.

It was this singular reason that Megahes took over this once ramshackle Fort for himself. Though there weren’t many cells, there was no need. Three of them sat in a row at the bottom of the stairs, each outfitted with custom Arcano-tech that allowed for the arrival of a singular occupant that was soon set to magical and electrical suppression to keep them docile and incapable of action while time slowly allowed them to become dehydrated and starved to where strength or speed was no longer an issue either.

The work put into this place was one of Mega’s hidden creations of pride and in the past, its use went towards a sorted pastime of torturing whoever was unfortunate enough to get caught by one of his traps. Times change however and with Mega’s newfound religion, came the need to change how and why he did things while applying them to old hobbies. Today’s hobby however, only involved one other person beyond himself and Mega comes to stand right before him as electricity pulses through his frail, nearly starved frame.

“Brother Abacus.” A stupid name, false to be sure, but one that Megahes didn’t really care about either way. “I realize you don’t know who I am and that’s quite alright.” He leans in, voice dialing down as he speaks through the bars just as another tide of electricity bombards the ‘Brother’, causing him to whimper and whine in pain. “You have been found guilty of being a member of a Twilight Cult, one in fact, that was run by Dinthoqaf the Defiler.”

The cultist looks up, arms shaking in heavy tremors as he tries to look his would-be captor in the eye. They give out however, causing him to hit the ground with an exhale. His cracked and bleeding lips wobble, trying to say something, but the lack of strength made their efforts near useless. It was sad really, or at least it would be if Megahes cared about the man's condition in the slightest.

Megah glides over to a control panel on the wall and proceeds to flip a series of switches and dials which cause several mechanical tendrils to tear from the wall in Abacus’ cell that soon lash him to the same wall they originated from. His body was quickly drawn into an ‘X’ shape with limbs pulled tight and to their limits.

“You see. Your former… Employer? Boss? Leader.” Megahes hands lift and tumble in slow methodical circles as he tries to find the right word, but leaves it be. “Him and I don’t get along very well and thanks to his efforts, I find myself needing to improvise my tactics a bit. While I know he’s dead, face turned to slag and glass, I wanna make sure I get the job done correctly, meaning none of his followers try to take up his mantle. I’m sure you understand.”

He turns around and heads into the cell, worry of electrocution now gone thanks to the current state of affairs. “You see. I have this…” He pauses. “...Macabre little ritual I have to do every so often and believe me.” The Goblin laughs while looking up at the man while proceeding to straighten up his clothes, as if it mattered. “As much as people might want me to say I hate doing this… I don’t. I’ve been doing this to people way before you all found me and now. Now I get to put my hobbies to better use.”

Megahes’ hand comes up, his index finger pressing to his lips to tell Brother Abacus to be silent. His smile fades with the gesture and he reaches up, pressing his black and gold painted claw against the clothing of this man's thigh. Downward, slowly, it runs. Fabric quickly turns from a peasant-y brown to a heavy red and brown as flesh below seems to split before the clothing itself can.

Magic? Possibly. Insanely sharp claws? Not likely. But whatever it was, the man's thigh split open as if by scalpel and despite his starvation, he thrashes weakly in an effort to pull away. The machines holding his wrists tighten and continue to do so until the sound of bone is heard crunching.

This process continues on not just for mere moments but stretches of hours, lines drawn across flesh like sand. Megahes had nothing else to say and so, despite the protests and pleading, begging to let him go and he’d tell no one, Mega continued.

Soon, details were carved away, facial features, scalp and its rooted hair, ears. Nearly anything that could be taken and removed without outright killing this poor cultist was taken in some macabre movie of silence and torture and finally, when the man was nearest his end, Megahes opens his own shirt.

The metal embedded into his Chest that shines with the Light like a beacon in this squalor, practically vibrates as Mega runs his blood coated hands across its surface. Red blood made semi-translucent by the sheer shine, soon was baked and cooked black, all Vitae devoured, leaving Megahes to sigh in relief.

“I would ask you to tell the Defiler thank you for giving me this. But… we both know you’re never going to have that opportunity.”

Megahes runs his hand up from Brother Abacus' groin clear up to his collarbone, shearing clean through flesh and muscle alike. What came next was a grotesque shower of innards that began to fall and slop to the floor, leaving our would-be cultist inanimate and lifeless.

“Now to clean up and go home. Tonight’s my date night and I have so many things to accomplish before She gets home…” Soon, the jail cells were left dark and eventually the slow trickling of blood and various other liquids came to silence in the dark, waiting to be cleaned up and for a new subject to be taken.

[justfangirlthingies]

Talking to the Moon (Billy Hargrove)

Another songfic. This one is based on "Talking to the Moon" by Bruno Mars

Word count: 2049 words

Warnings: a swear word I think?, mentions of death, description of death, this is basically fueled by angst, sad, mental illness I guess (I think that's it), allusions to sex

I may or may not have made myself cry while writing this

"I know you're somewhere out there" you whispered as you were seated in your driveway, leaning against a car, long abandoned. His car.

Denial. That's what one could call your situation. Struck with grief and pain, yet still not recognizing it.

"Somewhere far away, but that's okay I'll find you or maybe you'll find me." A sad smile traced your lips as your eyes began to water. You gazed at the starry night sky, the moon, shining as bright as ever, illuminating your frame.

You couldn't accept it. And why would you? Just to have your world shutter to pieces before your feet? No thanks!

"I want you back,"

It never happened. Not as long as you refused to believe it. It just had to be some cruel joke. IT HAD TO BE!

Slowly flashes of memories invaded your thoughts and unfolded before your eyes. The way he sacrificed himself in order to save all of you. The way he was impaled from all directions by the beast and how his blood soaked the white tank top he had been wearing that evening. The way his limp body dropped to the floor. How he just laid there unconscious in a puddle of of his own blood. How they had to drag you and Max away from his body, but you wouldn't budge. "No Billy! BILLY! Come on! D-don't do this to me! You can't just leave me here like that!" In that moment you either wanted him to wake up or to just lie down and leave this place with him, but you couldn't do that to your family and friends. And to think that fateful day was your anniversary as well. You quickly pushed your thoughts and trauma to the back of your mind.

"I want you back Billy, please just come back home." Slowly the silent tears started escaping your eyes.

A hand pat your shoulder causing your features to flash with hope. Yet, it wasn't him. "Come on you gotta go back inside" It was just your little brother. The hopeful glimmer in your eyes vanished as you slowly got up. "I know... I know" You muttered and when you had made it to the front door you glanced at the old car again, wiping at your face to dry the tears.

"(Y/n) do you wanna watch a movie or maybe meet up with the gang? They miss you." Your face contorted to one of agony and you flinched at the mention of the kids and some of your friends. However, you quickly tried to mask it up and flashed your brother a smile "Sorry Dustin, those are your friends I'm just your babysitter. Have fun though." You ruffled his hair and just like that you left your little brother standing in the hallway as you made a beeline for your bedroom.

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My neighbors think I'm crazy. But they don't understand

Whenever you left the house you got weird or pitiful looks thrown in your direction. It was no wonder you stopped leaving the house. And quite honestly, you were beginning to feel better. You felt better, not because you finally accepted the decision fate had made, but rather because you started to drift off. Reminiscing about the good times and creating your own little world in your head where everything was just fine. Or maybe you were just feeling numb by now...

"You're all I had, you're all I had and you're all I'd ever need" you mumbled to yourself and to the night sky.

At night, when the stars light up my room. I sit by myself. Talking to the moon

You often sat on your windowsill as you told him all that happened on each day. Sometimes you'd rant about your job. Other times you'd ask him questions and beg him to come back to you.

Trying to get to you. In hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too

Could he even hear you? See you? Know you were trying to contact him somehow? If the upside down was real, then so was the chance he might be out there somewhere, right? It was a desparate last glimmer of hope you had left.

"Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon? Maybe I am..." Oh

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I'm feeling like I'm famous, the talk of the town.

Of course you noticed the people watching you and talking about you behind your back. They say I've gone mad. Apparently they had nothing better to do than talk about you.

Yeah, I've gone mad. But they don't know what I know

One night when you were rambling into the night you heard his voice.

'Cause when the sun goes down, someone's talking back.

It was faint at first, but it got louder and steadier and sounded more like him.

Yeah, they're talking back, oh. At night, when the stars light up my room

And that was when hope returned to you. You left your room less and less, your family and friends growing more worried with each passing day. They barely got to see you.

I sit by myself. Talking to the moon

You didn't even notice how you neglected your needs.

Trying to get to you

You were too busy talking to him. Too busy to eat or sleep. To anxious that he'd be gone again if you left for too long.

In hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too

Your family was at their wits end. They didn't know how they could help you. But you didn't think you needed help. You had Billy and that was all that mattered to you.

Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon?

Slowly your brain had repressed the trauma, leaving it on the threshold between consciousness and unconsciousness. The images of the distressing and traumatizing memories only appearing in your sleep. In your nightmare plagued sleep.

Do you ever hear me calling? (Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah) Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh. 'Cause every night, I'm talking to the moon

They were just nightmares, nothing more. After all he was here. What did you need sleep for when you could be awake and talk to Billy

Still trying to get to you

You had gotten lost in your own fantasy. A different reality where your boyfriend was still alive. Where he was still his usual cocky, jealous overprotective, but loving self, the one you fell in love with.

In hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too

Today was your anniversary. You dressed up nicely and left your room for the first time in forever. Describing your family as shocked when you left your room, went to grab a shopping basket and put on your shoes was an understatement. You flashed a bright smile at them when you saw them. "(Y/n)? What's got you in such a good mood? Are you going out?" Your mother was a little worried about your sudden change in demeanor, but quickly pushed those doubts aside. She was delighted at how happy you seemed. She didn't want to see in what bad shape you were, didn't want to notice how weird that smile looked on your exhausted posture or how that smile didn't actually reach your glassed over, dull (e/c) eyes. Eyes that shone bright with love, hope and life once. She didn't want to realize that you were just a shell of yourself.

What she did notice though, was the effort you put into looking nice today and that you actually wanted to leave your room and even the house.

"Yes mum, of course I'm in a good mood!" you exclaimed, you almost seemed like you were in some kind of trance. "It's our anniversary today. I'll go buy a few things to surprise Billy with his favourite dish for when he comes over later" and just like that you were out the door. Leaving your mother with confusion and worry written all over her face. Dustin had noticed the whole ordeal, however he did not choose to blatantly ignore your change in behaviour. "I have an idea, I know someone who might be able to help." Just like that your brother had left through the front door, sprinting to his friend's home.

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Or am I a fool, who sits alone,

You had spent your afternoon cooking and baking for your boyfriend. You prepared everything, now all you had to do was wait for him.

talking to the moon? Oh

A grin made itself prominent on your face as you thought about your favourite anniversary, the one three years ago. The weather was nice and Billy took you to the fun fair that just happened to be in town. He kept you close to him and would've punched anyone who laid their eyes on you for too long if you hadn't stopped him. "Don't worry, I'm only yours Hargrove" you beamed at him with delight in your eyes as you pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. After that he won you a stuffed animal and you got some cotton candy together.

"I love you, you know that right? I'll stay by your side forever you'll see. And I'll never leave you, like my asshole of a father left my mum, I promise. The two of us, we'll stay together for eternity" The blonde told you that evening when you were in bed, snuggled up cozily together after he had shown you just how much he loved you in every possible way. You moved your head which was resting on his naked chest slightly so you could properly look at him. His eyes held so much love, passion, adoration and tenderness for you in them and you knew yours did too "Forever huh?" you grinned as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You could feel his fingers trace patterns on your back and arms as his strong arms pulled you impossibly closer to his body, the scent of his cologne engulfing you. "You better keep that promise then because I love you too." A cocky smirk appeared on his face and there was a short pause, a comfortable silence, as you pondered "Billy?" The boy hummed in response, his fingers still caressing your soft skin. "Can you promise to show me the beaches in Cali someday as well?" You felt your boyfriends chest vibrating as he chuckled softly "I think that I can manage (Y/n)" That's how you drifted off to sleep that night.

"(Y/n)..." a soft voice cautiously brought you back to your reality. "It's been three years." Your eyes were wide as you found yourself face to face with Maxine Mayfield, Billy's half-sister. He always acted like he hated it when someone called them siblings, when in reality he didn't mind at all. He loved his sister, he just had a special way of showing it. "What are you doing here? And what are you even talking about?" A smile was on your face. "As much as I love our silly little talks Max, I must advice you leave. Billy will come home any minute now and you know how he can get when he has plans and you appear out of nowhere." a giggle left your throat. As you spoke your eyes started swimming with tears. Why? You didn't know.

"(Y/n) listen to me. Billy died three years ago today, he's not gonna come to your anniversary. You just made up that he's still here with you because you couldn't handle his death. Not with how brutal it was." Tears were now pouring from your eyes as you shook your head. Realization dawning on you. "No...that-that's not true" you said, your voice cracking halfway. "Three-three years ago he took me to the funfair and-" you stopped mid sentence as the images from your nightmares unraveled before you. Max pulled you into her embrace and you hugged her back immediately, your whole body racking with sobs. The redhead also shed a few tears, not only because of her dead brother but also because of the state you were in. "I know, I know..." she soothed you

I know you're somewhere out there.

Somewhere far away...

[justthehiddleswrites]

Destiny Has Other Plans | Loki x OFC (Alexis Randall) | Chapter 6

Pairing: Loki x OFC

MASTERLIST IS HERE

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him.  He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim.  An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond.  Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.  

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds.  But it doesn’t mean he has to like it.   A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love.  Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life.  A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them.  Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

This Chapter:   Alexis comes clean with Clint and Loki, Alexis and Clint decide to get the better of Tony and Bruce.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst,  Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.

-

Clint stood there with his arms crossed as Alexis told the entire sordid tale of Loki and her, from the encounter in the bathroom at The Whiskey Front Room to the dinner and Ashlynn to last night. There was a sense of relief as she told Clint everything. A weight lifted. No one but Loki and her knew everything, not even Hannah. Clint continued to stare at her as she finished up.

Her feet shuffled from side to side, scooting pieces of cereal around on the kitchen floor. “Are you going to say something?”

Clint pressed his lips together. “Did you really get arrested for punching a guy at a club who grabbed your ass?”

Alexis stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “That is what you took away from that?”

Clint chuckled with her. “I mean, it is a badass move. Pregnant woman bloodies a guy’s nose.”

“I had to learn to take care of myself at an early age. I didn’t have people looking out for me.”

Clint threw an arm over her shoulder. “That is all changed now. We are your family now. Which means taking care of each other. Besides, I have never seen Loki this happy… well, ever. And I would like to keep him that way.”

“Me too.” She bent down to pick up the scattered cereal.

“Allow me to help.” Clint grabbed a broom by the fridge and swept up the cereal from the floor and threw it in the trash. “Speaking of keeping Loki happy, you should probably know about the bet between Bruce and Tony?”

Alexis’s brow furrowed. “What bet?”

-

Loki woke to Alexis shoving his shoulder hard. “Wake up, Loki, it’s important.”

He jolted upright with a start. “The baby! Is everything okay?” His hands flew to her belly.

She frowned. “The baby is fine. It’s about Bruce and Tony.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “What have they done now?”

Alexis gave him the quick rundown of Tony and Bruce, conspiring to get photographic evidence of their relationship. Loki clenched his fists.

“I’ll straighten this out.” He rose to get dressed. Alexis caught his wrist.

“While I appreciate your willingness to beat the shit out of them, may I suggest something a little less bloody?” Her eyes twinkled as she gazed up at Loki.

“What do you have in mind?” Loki sat down beside her on the bed.

“What if we have a bit of fun with them? Ratchet up the discord between us. Have a big blowout right in front of them. I am sure Clint would be willing to help.”

Loki’s eyes flashed. “How is Barton involved in all of this?”

“He is the one who told me about the contest.”

“And he would help?”

Alexis’s lips curled into a smile. “I am certain I can convince him to do so.”

Loki dipped her into his lap and kissed her. “I love the way your mind works.”

“Why thank you.” Alexis chuckled.

-

Tony and Bruce watched Alexis and Loki like a hawk, often making excuses to pop in unannounced. Loki and Alexis started locking not only the front door but the bedroom doors as well. They also no longer stole kisses and glances in the common areas. Alexis missed pulling Loki into an empty room to make out, but knew the payoff would be worth it.

“Legolas,” Tony caught Clint one day. “You still lurking in the vents these days?” Tony popped a chocolate-covered pecan in his mouth.

Clint’s mouth twitched. As expected, Tony came to him with information on Loki and Alexis. When Alexis came to him for help, Clint jumped at the chance. He often felt excluded from the Avengers’ activities because of his more unusual habits. Plus, he loved seeing Tony taken down a peg or two.

“Why?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Noticed anything unusual going on between the Trickster and his baby mama?” He popped another pecan.

Clint shook his head. “Not really. What are you looking for?”

Tony shrugged his shoulders. “Signs of a relationship. Hugging, hand holding, kissing. That sort of thing.”

Clint rubbed his chin, making Tony sweat for a minute. “Now that I think about it, I have noticed something different between the two of them.”

“Yeah… Spill.” Tony offered a pecan. Clint waved it off.

“They seemed to despise each other. I even saw her hurl a glass at Loki’s head. If you ask me, they are one argument away from Alexis up and leaving.”

“Really? I thought they were looking pretty cozy the other day.”

“Well, you don’t live on the same floor as them. You don’t hear the yelling.” Clint hooked his thumb. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to meet Nat in the gym.”

Tony waved him away, deep in thought. “Yeah… sure… whatever…”

Clint waited until he was out of sight before smirking. He had sowed the seeds. Now for Loki and Alexis to finish the job.

-

Loki stomped into Bruce’s lab later that day.

“You’re late.” Bruce didn’t bother to look up from his screen.

“Are all women so infuriating, or is it the pregnancy that causes them to be so?” Loki groused as he leaned over Bruce’s shoulder, breathing on the man’s neck on purpose.

Bruce scratched his neck in irritation, turning to face Loki, hoping the god would step back. He didn’t.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“More like a continuing hell.” Loki rubbed his forehead. “She is insufferable. Whining and complaining. I am contemplating having Stark relocate Alexis to her own quarters for the duration of this pregnancy.”

“Is it really that bad?” Bruce wrinkled up his nose.

Loki threw him a derisive glare. “I would rather share a bed with my brother at this point.”

“Doesn’t he snore?”

“The walls shake.” Loki retorted. “So excuse me if I am not in the mood for chitchat.”

Bruce became flustered, hands waving in the air. “Right… right…” And he hustled away to find something to pass the time until he could leave the awkward situation.

-

Loki shut the door, and Alexis popped up off the couch.

“So…?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

His face pulled into a wide grin. “Bruce appears to have believed our ruse.” Alexis jumped in place and spun around in glee. Her chest bounced up and down that caught Loki’s attention.

“Excellent!” She came over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Clint says Tony took the bait too. Now to let them stew.”

Loki’s arms wrapped around her waist. “You have become close with Barton. Should I be jealous?” He raised an eyebrow.

Alexis’s lips twitched into a smile. She ran a finger along Loki’s chest. “Are you jealous?”

Loki leaned down to nuzzle against her neck. She smelled of perfume smelling of vanilla and spice. “You minx.” he purred. “You are mine and mine alone.”

Alexis gasped as she gripped his arms. Loki’s lips ghosted over her neck, causing her to shiver. Her nails dug into Loki’s jacket.

“Bold words.” Alexis countered, breathless.

Her hands slipped underneath Loki’s jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. He shook it off to the ground. As Loki undid the buttons of his shirt, Alexis tugged her dress over her head, dropping it to the side.

“I have only just begun, my love.” He kissed the tops of her breasts, fumbling with her bra.

“It clasps in the front. You mean having sex in a bathroom is not bold.”

With the flick of a finger, Loki undid the clasp and slid the straps off her shoulders. He squeezed her breasts with his hands.

“You lack an imagination, my darling. Allow me a small demonstration.”

His lips latched onto hers, nipping about her lips with his teeth. As Loki walked her back in the room, Alexis tugged at his belt and trousers. Her fingers made quick work of his zipper, pushing them down to Loki’s thighs. His cock popped free.

“I appreciate your lack of underwear these days.” Alexis teased as she stroked his shaft.

“As do I.” He turned her around and eased her onto the couch, placing her on her hands and knees facing the back of the couch.

Loki’s fingertips ghosted up and down the back of her thighs. Alexis moaned, her head dropped onto the couch.

“Loki, please… I… need you..” She hissed.

“But teasing you is so much more fun.” He cupped her ass while rubbing the tip of his cock along her slit. Alexis wiggled her ass against him. “It appears I am not the only one who likes to tease.”

Loki impaled himself with a single thrust.

“Fuck!” Alexis bit her lower lip. Her breasts and belly hung low while she propped herself up on her elbows on the back of the couch.

Loki gripped her hips and continued to snap his hips against her. He pressed against her back and reached over to pinch her nipple. Alexis came with a moan. Her walls clenched around Loki. He grunted as he thrusted twice more and spilled inside of her.

Alexis collapsed onto the couch, spent and exhausted. Her head spun.

“Loki, I need…” She grabbed his arm, and he shifted out of the way to have her lie down on her side on the sofa.

“What is it, darling? Are you hurt? What can I do?”

Alexis wasn’t sure what was going. It was the third dizzy spell in a week. She made an appointment to see her OB/GYN later in the week, and Dr. Cho found nothing unusual in her tests.

“I just need a glass of water.” She lied, not wanting to scare Loki unnecessarily if it turned out to be nothing.

Loki rushed to the kitchen and came back with a large glass of water. He lifted her head up to sip.

“Here…” He slipped his arms underneath her and lifted her off the couch.

“Loki, I—”

He cut her off. “Please allow me to take care of you.”

Loki pulled her close to his chest. She relented and allowed Loki to carry her to bed. The bed they were now sharing. Her head hit the soft pillow with a sigh. Loki pulled the covers over her and settled next to her.

“Hmm…” She hummed. “I’m sorry.”

Loki kissed her cheek. “No apologies. Rest. We still have the grand finale for Bruce and Tony.”

“Bruce and Tony…”

Loki laid awake until he was certain Alexis was asleep. He did his best to convince himself Alexis’s fatigue was nothing out of the ordinary, but deep inside where he didn’t want to admit he knew something else was going on. He pushed away his fear drifting into a restless sleep.

-

“I’m telling you, Bruce, you are being punk’d.” Tony snapped back.

Bruce scratched his head. “I don’t know, Tony. They seem to be on the outs. I think you are wrong. “

Tony held up two fingers as he leaped over the back of the couch to lie down with a bounce. “Two words.. fore.. play.”

“That’s one word, Tony.”

“Whatever. They have it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already sleeping together.”

A door slamming down the hall punctuated Tony’s sentence. And then another door opening and slamming. Alexis stomped into the living room.

“Speaking of the devil…” Tony started, oblivious to Alexis’s mood. Loki soon followed.

“Darling, I—” Loki started.

Alexis whipped around and stopped in her tracks. “DON’T EVEN TRY TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF LOKI! I’M DONE, I’M LEAVING!”

Loki chuckled. “No, you’re not. You are being hysterical. Come back and we can talk—”

“HYSTERICAL?!” Alexis screeched, resisting the urge to smile. Loki was playing it perfectly. She noticed Tony sitting up on the couch. Clint had appeared from nowhere. Time to drop the bomb. “You think I’m hysterical for being upset at catching you fucking someone on the couch?!? I sleep on that couch, LOKI!” The tears flowed freely from her eyes. The adrenaline pumped through her. “I trusted you.”

Loki stepped forward towards her. “We never agreed to be exclusive. Was it not you who said I shouldn’t change my life just because you were here?”

Alexis reared back and slapped Loki across the face. “You fucking bastard! HOW DARE YOU! I never want to see you again!” They now have a full audience, with Steve and Nat slipping into the kitchen. Even Thor peeked his head into the room.

She stormed away towards the elevator. Loki grabbed her wrist, but she yanked free. “Touch me again and lose the hand.” Alexis’s vision darkened at the edges and her head became fuzzy.

“But, the child—” Loki protested.

“Loki…” she called out, her voice wavering.

His eyes snapped to her, and he saw panic reflecting at him in her eyes. “Alexis, darling, you are—”

“I don’t feel…” Her legs wobbled before giving out underneath her. Loki lunged for her, catching her before she hit the floor, cradling her body in his arms.

“Alexis, wake up.” He shook her gently. “The trick’s over.”

Alexis groaned but didn’t wake. Loki glanced over his shoulders to find the rest of the Avengers staring at the two of them, frozen in place.

“Don’t just stand there, call the doctor!” Loki bellowed.

Everyone scurrying about, Tony yelling out to JARVIS and everyone else pretending to be busy at something. Thor came behind and grabbed Loki’s shoulder.

“I am sure everything is going to be fine, Brother. She is strong.”

“I wish I shared your confidence.”

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california @jayjaydawn @i-peachesandstrawberries

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!

Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 12: A Boy Like The Sun

Lei’s POV

It was the best dream I ever had— the feeling of Sehun’s lips against mine. His touch was gentle— so gentle that I shouldn’t have felt it long after the moment passed, so faint that it shouldn’t still seize my heart and squeeze my lungs empty and wipe my mind of every thought except those of him. 

Sehun. Sehun, who was never mine. Sehun, who made me believe for a fraction of an infinity that maybe everything in life had led to that moment when he filled my every sense and painted my every thought and memory with colors that I had never seen once with open eyes. 

My best dream. My favorite dream. The dream that blessed me too many nights before and after it became a curse. The dream I would bring back to life every day of every week even if it ended the same way every single time. 

The problem with dreams coming true is that you always wake up or the dream becomes a nightmare. 

Never in a million years would I have believed that his smile and his laughter— the luxuries that were once so rare and more brilliant than the sun in my childhood world— would conspire to break my heart into a million little pieces that were too jagged and sore and bloodsoaked by the piano to pick up and fit back together.

Yes, it was my first kiss. 

He was my first kiss. 

Sehun was my first kiss. 

Sehun. 

And I wasn’t shy— just humiliated by his laughter at my expense. I was just humiliated that I couldn’t catch my breath. I was just humiliated by the urge to kiss him again because it— he— Sehun was everything I was afraid of wanting or needing to feel like one of those people who can smile in the sun and really mean it no matter how many eyes try to rip them apart. 

And I was, for a fleeting second that I wish with all of my soul had lasted forever, proud to have shared my first and only act of intimate affection with Sehun because I always imagined that he was so much more than handsome before he broke my heart with a smile and a wink. 

And if he would have loved me, even in his broken joke of a way that impaled me through the chest, I would have forgotten my refusal to date— just for him. I would have let him in every door, I would have helped him climb over every wall because — well— every wall crumbled at his touch. Not even his ill-timed laughter and mockery would rebuild them. Every door was always unlocked for him, and his kiss blew them wide open with a wild gust of tornado hurricane wind, and it would take all of my strength to lock them.  

I guess I have Minseok to thank for saving my pride. If he hadn’t called Sehun to his side and allowed me to run up to my moonlit bedroom where I could reconstruct my defenses— the defenses that I once imagined applied to everyone but the one who already held my heart in the palm of his hand— maybe I would have acted on that urge to rise on the tips of my toes to kiss Sehun again and again and again even if it was just a joke to him and Chanyeol, even if his heart could never swell for me or break for me, even if I could never look at him while remembering the beloved boy who was always beautifully too far out of reach, always opposed to love despite frequent expressive actions, always just slightly out of step, never quite on the same page, tragically never on the same path for long, never once in a million daydreams close to being mine. 

I closed the door on years of memories, years of looking at one person who never needed to look at me to have my love, years of falling for Lucas’s adamant belief that everything works out for those who are meant to be together, years of praying in the tiniest, most irrational piece of my heart that Sehun and I would someday—

Every thought died when I made eye contact with his poster that hung on my wall since his debut. All at once, as I removed it pin by pin, imagining that this was exactly what I would have to do in my mind with every one of his memories if I ever wanted to stop bleeding, tears streamed down my cheeks. 

Would you think that I’m pathetic if I told you how hard it was to be angry with Sehun for hurting me? Would you think that I’m weak if you knew how long I struggled to pack Sehun’s poster back into its container? Would you call me a fool if you knew that I almost left his photocards up on the wall because I wanted so desperately to remember him without that stabbing ache in my chest— because I wanted to forget that he told me I was annoying for following him and that he laughed at my first kiss and that he dashed my every conception of him? 

I don’t care if you would. 

It killed me to lock our memories away in that box. It killed me to unfasten his bracelet. I hated that I couldn’t just close my eyes and think of Sehun as I always had. I hated that I couldn’t trick myself into believing the lie that nothing had changed— that I wasn’t shattered. 

I don’t care if you think I’m weak because I don’t care about being strong anymore. After all this time, I have accepted that there is only one person who has ever held the power to fragment me like that. I have accepted that I am foolish enough to trust him with that power in every universe. What’s worse: I am okay with spending all that time crying in the dark if it gives me the vaguest hope that he could love me someday. 

I was hugging Sehun’s note that came with the bracelet against my chest when Lucas burst through the door, smiling and unsteady on his feet. “Baekhyun spiked the punch!” He cheered, holding up a clear glass of red liquid. “I brought you some!”

Lucas’s smile faltered when he sat on the foot of my bed. Setting the cup down on the floor, he asked, “What’s wrong, Lei?” 

And before I could decide what was worth sharing and what was worth locking away in the box, I threw myself into Lucas’s outstretched arms, sputtering, “Sehun— Sehun— Sehun—” 

I couldn’t say anything but his name. The name that still made my heart swell. 

Realizing that I couldn’t say anything else, Lucas ran a comforting hand up and down my back, promising, “It’s okay. Just let it out.” 

Until the embarrassment of baring my raw emotions overwhelmed the ache of a broken heart, I sobbed into Lucas’s shirt. If he didn’t smell so different— if he didn’t feel so different— if his voice didn’t sound so different, I would have imagined that (instead of Lucas) Sehun held me together that night. 

When I finally ran out of tears that Lucas could dry, when I finally untangled myself, I rubbed at my eyes. “I’m really tired.” My words blurred together in a pathetic mumble. 

“Oh,” Lucas hummed. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, if you’re sure—” I nodded— “then I’ll just go back downstairs.” He picked the alcoholic punch up off of the floor. “Just text me if you need me, and I’ll come running.”

“I know.” To prove that I would be okay alone— that I could heal alone— I tried to force a smile. Just before he walked out of the door, I asked, “Can you take that box away for me?”

“Sure,” Lucas agreed before knowing its contents. After taking a glance at Sehun’s picture, he swore, “I’ll take good care of this for you.” 

Practicing my hand at pretending to be strong despite the growing urge to snatch my box away from Lucas and return its contents to their rightful places, I lied, “I don’t care what you do with it.” 

Lucas blinked. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t say so. “Someday you might,” was all he said before walking away with every token of my memories with Sehun.

If I thought that the memories would fade with those objects out of sight, I must have been disappointed breathless at the number of scenes that played in my mind as I stepped out of my white dress and heels into a set of sunflower pajamas. When I settled into bed, rubbing at the headache forming around my temples, I realized that I would never forget Sehun. Only with the greatest exertion of effort would I be able to hide my love for him (and my humiliating utter desperation for his love) behind a mask of exaggerated anger. 

Here’s the truth, if you want it: I didn’t love Sehun any less after he kissed me at that Christmas party. It was with great difficulty that I avoided him over the following two years. The embarrassed anger that would eventually swell in my gut with his mocking flirtatious remarks wasn’t an immediate response. For a while, I was still stupid enough to swoon at his glance. 

I was lying in bed, dreaming of how I would survive without surrendering any more pieces of my heart the next time I saw Sehun, when three knocks sounded at the door. My eyes opened wide to the sight of Baekhyun tiptoeing into my bedroom as if he were afraid to wake me. 

Although Baekhyun and I were not especially close, I didn’t feel bothered by his sudden, unannounced, unsolicited appearance. Spurred by curiosity that burned through my sadness, I sat upright and quipped, “Come on in, Baekhyun.” 

Turning toward me quickly enough to flick his orange-dyed bangs out of his eyes, Baekhyun broke into a glittering smile. “Thanks for the warm welcome!” 

He turned back to trace the outline of the place where Sehun’s poster stood for years. His touch was careful, hesitant as if he feared that the wall would crumble under pressure. “I was looking for the bathroom. It’s a happy accident that I ended up where you are.”

Owing to his devious smile, I didn’t believe that anything Baekhyun did was an accident. Still, I was afraid to say something that would send him away. Forgetting that I wanted to be alone just minutes ago, I didn’t offer him directions to the bathroom. “A happy accident,” I repeated under my breath.

He said, “The party is boring without you,” although he hadn’t said a word since ‘hello’ at the start of the night. “Can’t I convince you to go back with me?”

“I would follow you anywhere, Baek.”

My hand clamped over my mouth after the words fell out as if in an ill-timed effort to contain them. I don’t know why I said that. I had never followed Baekhyun a day in my life— not even that time at the SM showcase when he tried to lead me away from the first Sehun-induced heartache. 

“Anywhere?” Baekhyun winked and melted the block of ice in my chest. 

Stupidly, as if enchanted by his smile, I nodded, conditioning, “Just not tonight.” Although Baekhyun asked for no explanation as his gaze dropped down to his feet in a perfect picture of disappointment, I said, “My heart is too heavy tonight.”

“What if I carried it for you?”

Thinking that he couldn't have been serious, I laughed until I felt his eyes on me. Something about the way he looked at me took my breath away— made my heart thunder as if it wasn’t broken— made me forget that I was supposed to be crying, mourning a dream that I never should have dreamed. 

Once I found my voice, I said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“Somebody else is holding it,” Baekhyun muttered, likely assuming that I wouldn’t hear. He reached for the ribbon on my vanity— the one I wore on my debut stage— and I raced to reach it first. 

But I couldn’t beat Baekhyun. I don’t know why I tried in the first place. I don’t know why I didn’t want him to touch the item I hadn’t looked at since the first and only time I wore it. 

The ribbon was radiant in his hands. As he traced his fingers over it, eyes widening and glittering as if it were an artifact of his wildest dreams, I told him, “I’m holding my heart. I can feel it pounding. Breaking. Aching. It’s mine again, for the first time that I can really remember, and I wouldn’t give it to someone like you in its current condition.” 

In a wounded whimper, Baekhyun repeated, “Someone like me?”

My heart stilled. I was quick to explain that I wasn’t trying to insult him. “Yeah. A boy like the sun.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows pinched together to form little wrinkles in his forehead. “The sun?”

“Yeah. Somebody who can smile in the sun and mean it no matter how many eyes try to rip them apart.” I burned at how easily I could speak to Baekhyun, who was little more than a friendly acquaintance, when I was a stuttering, blubbering mess around Lucas, who was my best friend. 

The stars shone in Baekhyun’s eyes a thousand times brighter than they ever did in the sky. I couldn’t look away from them. I couldn’t forget them. Sometimes, I count them when it’s hard to fall asleep. 

“That’s what you think of me?” Baekhyun beamed. His smile made me smile too. “You think I’m like the sun?” 

“You’re probably brighter than the sun, Baek.” 

Suddenly, he was too bright, and there were too many parts of myself that I wanted to hide in the shadows. Although I didn’t want to, I needed to look away from Baekhyun’s smile. My eyes fixed on the ribbon in his hand, and I reached for it again. 

Holding it just out of reach, Baekhyun looked down on me with a muted form of his sunshine smile. “Have you ever heard about ribbons and soulmates?” When I shook my head, flushing at the word ‘soulmate,’ Baekhyun continued, “I learned about it from my second favorite love story. Apparently, if you give a ribbon to someone or if someone gives a ribbon to you, your souls will be tied together forever. So be careful of who you give this to.” 

Struggling to imagine that Baekhyun was the kind of person who watched or read romantic stories, much less believed romantic superstitions, I narrowed my eyes at him, waiting for some outburst of laughter. “Do you really believe in that sort of thing?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “The couple in the story was together forever, so it can’t hurt to be careful.” He pressed the ribbon into my palm. His skin was fire against mine— a flame that warmed but didn’t scald. I think that’s the first hint that I was dreaming. Feelings like that don’t exist in real life. 

Maybe I scalded him, though. Maybe I gave him frostbite. Baekhyun’s hand flinched away from mine, and he looked down at it as if expecting to find a scar or a blister. There was nothing there.

Frowning, I said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” 

Baekhyun looked up from his hand to meet my eyes. “Huh? You didn’t hurt me. You could never hurt me.”

I wanted to ask him how he could be so sure about something like that, but I didn’t even want to imagine hurting Baekhyun, so I made a joke instead. Grinning down at the ribbon in my hand, I asked, “You gave this to me. Does that make you my soulmate, Baek?”

He blinked a few times, mouth falling agape before a smile broke across his face. “Don’t make a big deal of it.” 

Those words— they struck a familiar chord within my heart, within my memory. I closed my eyes and remembered a golden pink sunset coloring a cotton candy sky, a crown of white roses, a white rose in his coat pocket, a fountain where we made wishes. Deja vu. The memory with Baekhyun that played in my mind had never happened, but still I— I could feel it. 

The last time I heard him say those words to me, did I want to kiss him as badly as I did that night in my room? I must have. Whether it was in another dream— because surely, this was a dream— or another lifetime, those words must have inspired the singular desire to bridge all distance between us. 

The dream prompted me to take the first step toward him— the first step I had ever taken in my life— ribbon still in hand, and I would have brushed my lips against his in pursuit of some cosmic miracle if he didn’t wheeze, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.” 

My eyes, which I must have closed in preparation for some eclipse, opened to the sight of Baekhyun’s eyes swimming in tears. I would have done anything to take that look from his face, even if it was a figment of a dream turned nightmare. Leaping away (despite my persisting desire to cling to him) because I knew I was accidentally the source of his tears, I opened my mouth to apologize. 

Baekhyun didn’t give me a chance, though. Gnawing at his lips as if he was afraid that I would try again to kiss them, he bowed to me. “I’m sorry, Lei. There’s something really important that I have to take care of. Don’t—” A tear streamed down his cheek— “If we’re dreaming, don’t forget me when we wake up.” 

Before I could promise that I wouldn’t, he bolted out the door without glancing back. He was gone just as suddenly as he appeared. And I missed him. I miss him. 

Maybe Baekhyun knew how to carry others’ broken hearts, and maybe he didn’t need permission to do so. After he left, and I settled back under my blankets, the ache in my chest was almost gone. 

I fell into dreams about him— laughing down by some lake, arguing in some darkened corner of an SM banquet hall, talking by the side of some pool, driving through my hometown late at night with the sunroof down, tossing coins into a wishing fountain, stumbling into his arms at a party where we matched from head to toe. Dreams— maybe they’re memories from another life. Maybe I woke the next morning, haunted by the hope that I loved Baekhyun in another life and that maybe, someday, if I did everything right, I would get to live that life again. 

I dreamed of Baekhyun, burned as I wondered how I would ever face him, squirmed as I debated whether he was in real life anything like he was in dreams. 

And then I remembered the dangers of wasting one’s life dwelling on dreams— even the best ones. And I learned to be content with his mischievous glittering smiles and the memory of the stars in his eyes. And I never quite packed it away— the hope that there would be a time for him someday. 

Of course, I think I forgot just about everything when I saw him again— the one who could send me falling with just a glance. 

Sehun. 

Maybe my heart was mine, but that was only due to the force with which I held it whenever Sehun stood too close, calling it to him without words. That was only due to the scowl that I sculpted onto my face whenever the white-hot sting of his laughter wasn’t a distant enough memory. 

And even then, if I’m really honest, if I hold nothing back, I’ll admit that my heart was secretly (not-so-secretly) his all that time.

[3laxx]

Bring It Home - Chapter 6

To her right, Emira was hopping in place, before winking at her while shaking her arms out.

They were ready and poised and wouldn’t leave any of this in one piece.

Growling in anticipation, Amity looked ahead to see Willow holding up the flag.

Another chapter???? I'm spoiling you guys

But I already wanna start on my big fanfiction!! And for that I promised myself to finish all open fanfics first, before starting the megaproject not to lose my motivation with too many options again. So bear with me, please xD

Ah right, warnings:

- MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL - DRINKING - THEY'RE ALL OF AGE RELAX THEY'RE ALL 18 OR OLDER

Ao3 / FF.net

---

Cracking her knuckles, Amity huffed, before focusing on the backyard full of things.

The eighteen-year-old had managed to convince her siblings to empty the attic of any and all furniture her parents didn’t and wouldn’t need anymore, most of it probably treasured family heirlooms that were left up there to rot.

Straightening her back and rolling her head, Amity breathed through, before looking ahead again.

They had assembled some furniture to the best of their ability after transporting them down here, but they had also just thrown some off the roof, for the fun of it. The backyard was littered with boards, glass shards, and assembled furniture, which looked kind of funny, actually.

Their parents were still on a business trip, for at least another week, so the twins had readily accepted Amity’s offer to clean up the attic. Especially if that meant smashing stuff.

Grinning, she looked to her left where Edric was rolling his shoulders and showed her a thumb up, grinning deviously. He had gloated about some new powerful spell he had been working on and had impatiently waited all day to try this out.

To her right, Emira was hopping in place, before winking at her while shaking her arms out.

They were ready and poised and wouldn’t leave any of this in one piece.

Growling in anticipation, Amity looked ahead to see Willow holding up the flag.

They had roped her in on this, mostly by worrying her about any injuries they could possibly get from punching glass, so Willow had proclaimed herself the judge of the race the siblings were planning and had positioned herself on the other end of their backyard.

Their goal was to race to the other side and leave as much destruction to the furniture as they possibly could. Leaving anything whole or causing damage to the lawn in any way would result in fewer points for the score since they didn’t want to have Willow repair their backyard for their parents not to notice what their children were up to.

Smirking to herself, Amity readied her fingers by flexing them, already planning on using her abominations to leave nothing but destruction and chipped wood.

Willow’s hand with the flag fell and Amity pounced.

Immediately, she conjured an abomination to crush the first piece of furniture beneath it, while she took off its arm to slice through the nearest chair. She worked quickly and effectively, using all her training with Eda and Lilith to be as fast and deadly as she could. She had learned to utilize her abominations as basically anything by now, to crush, slice, envelop and even impale if she wanted to.

After half the way, sweat already started running down her forehead and temples but she couldn’t deny how amazing it felt to smash up all the furniture the Blight family had hoarded over the years, probably hundreds of them, for her to smash up. The rotting boards were flying all around and she fell into a sort of trance while continuing to hack everything up to the best of her abilities.

Emira was mostly using magically enhanced martial art, which allowed her to move quicker but left less destruction than Amity or Edric.

Edric, on the other hand, was using fire magic and highly directive explosions, almost like fireworks and flamethrowers combined. She’d have to ask him for that spell after this was over.

Coming in as second, Amity finally held herself up on her knees and chuckled, before straightening up and high-fiving both her siblings. The sweat was running down her face and a flying glass shard had left a small cut on her forehead, making a small trail of blood run down her tumble as well. One of her lower arms had also gotten a cut, but she didn’t even feel the pain, she was too ecstatic for that. Neither did her siblings because they also had minor injuries but didn’t speak up about any of them.

Grinning, the Blight siblings approached Willow who was already waiting for them with her eyebrows quirking up.

“You look like you just fought for your lives.”, she remarked, before joining into their laughter and high-fiving them as well.

The youngest Blight straightened her back and glanced back to their warpaths. Edric’s furniture was still burning, Amity had stayed true to her promise only to leave chipped wood, and Emira’s side showed a similar state of destruction.

Unsurprisingly, Amity got the highest score for destruction, while Emira had won the time and Edric the most impressive spell. She suspected Willow had just given him the reward not to make him feel bad, though, even if his spell was really impressive.

“Hey, we still have a bit of furniture left. Edric, wanna show us that spell?”, Amity finally asked after regaining her breath, and her brother eagerly nodded, showing his sisters and Willow the spell on an old piano they had found. Imitating him, the girls giggled and laughed while blowing up all scrap furniture they found, before sitting down in the grass with some cool drinks and a few towels to dry the sweat on their skin.

Humming, Amity touched glasses with everyone, before taking a deep gulp of her beverage, already feeling the alcohol pleasantly numbing her nerves after such a workout. Willow and Edric shared a harder drink while Emira and her had gone for a lighter cocktail because they had physically worked harder and didn’t want to lose their minds immediately.

Their backyard was still partially burning, but the siblings and Willow were all relaxed about it. They were probably going to burn all the scrap they had produced later, and they were positive about nothing else catching fire, so they opted to lie down for now and relax.

Amity removed her arms from beneath herself and lied down on the grass, closing her eyes when she enjoyed the evening sun. Smiling to herself, she finally indulged in her memories again.

Luz would’ve had so much fun today. Amity knew how much her late friend loved to use her glyphs in new and exciting ways and she would’ve given everything to graduate with a blow like this.

She briefly wondered how Luz would look like now. Maybe her face would be sharper like Amity’s had become, and she’d lose her chubby baby cheeks that made Amity smile every time she looked at the pictures of her and the human.

Maybe she’d be taller than her now, but she imagined her laugh would still be the same. It had to be. Amity imagined it as cheerful as back then, even if she could never know what it would sound like now.

And her eyes wouldn’t change she was sure. They would still be the same wonderful brown she remembered, and they would still shine with everything that she enjoyed. She would still probably fangirl about Azura ever since their favorite ship got together at the end of the last book almost four years ago. Smiling to herself, Amity daydreamed a bit but flinched when her sister punched her arm.

“Hey mittens, what’re you thinking about.”, she playfully asked and Amity growled.

“None of your business.”, she snapped and Willow chuckled.

“I know what she’s thinking about.”

Without further prompting, Amity felt something fluttering on her stomach and opened her eyes to see the old piece of paper, almost falling apart from the usage, that Willow had thrown there.

When she sat up, her old friend already gave her a pen and softly smiled.

“It’s time for another check off the list, isn’t it?”

With her breath hitching, Amity opened the bucket list and looked over the tasks she had completed.

The Azura book had three checks behind it by now, and she had given up on counting Skiing. She had also skipped school about five times, resulting in five checks.

Next was to smash something.

Grinning, Amity clicked the pen and drew a satisfying check behind the task, before looking up to their backyard with the chipped wood and burning furniture.

“She would’ve enjoyed this.”, Amity mumbled and Edric nodded.

“I’ll drink to that.”, he slurred and downed his drink, making his sisters giggle.

“Slow down Edric, we don’t wanna clean up your bedroom from your vomit again.”, Emira chastised him and smacked his shoulder, making him scowl.

“That never happened!”, he retorted but Amity just shook her head.

“Sure, that happened!”, Emira bit back and lifted her chin at him, “At the graduation party we threw!”

Willow laughed and nodded.

“Oh yeah, I remember that party. That was fun.”

Emira pushed Amity’s shoulder.

“Mittens’ first blackout!”, she giggled and Amity rolled her eyes, taking another gulp from her drink. Rolling her eyes, she finally replied.

“Only because you gave me the drink. I didn’t know it was way harder than you let on.”, she grumbled but Emira merely laughed, along with Edric and Willow. Thinking back to the party, Amity shook her head over her blazing blush. She was just glad Luz hadn’t been there to see her throwing off her shirt and jumping on the table in a bra before proceeding to breathe fire. It had been funny, admittedly, and she had enjoyed living it up like this for once, but she was still glad her crush hadn’t witnessed that.

Smiling to herself, she looked out to the backyard again, drinking a gulp from her bottle.

What she would’ve given to share this moment with Luz, though.

Sitting in the grass with people she loved, looking out to the destruction they had caused, completely powered out and holding a drink, feeling like an adult. Smiling to herself, she finished the drink before getting up.

“Come on, let’s put out the fires before the grass starts burning.”, she called and Edric groaned.

“I need more alcohol for that!”

“No, you need less alcohol for that. That stuff burns, you idiot.”

“Who said I wanna pour it on the flames?!”

Willow and Amity laughed at her siblings’ bickering, shaking their heads as they went to start collecting the pieces of wood.

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Let me know if you liked it!

[ahatintimestorybook]

OtH AU! Nightmares Aboard the Ship

Hello! First time uploading a story on this new blog! Well fourt AHIT story overall, but those were reblogs from my main page! Hey everyone! I'm back with another OtH! AU fanfic for you all! 

AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings

It was bedtime aboard Hat and Bow’s ship, and what appears to seem like a quiet night didn’t seem like it to Hat Kid, who was moving around in her sleep. Almost like she was having a nightmare.

Hat Kid’s Nightmare:

Hat was walking along Subcon Forest near the area where Queen Vanessa’s manor was. She didn’t know why she was walking there. Was Snatcher in trouble? A Time Piece? Or was she being hypnotized to come towards the queen’s manor. She didn’t know? In fact she wanted to stop walking and head back to where it’s safe.

Soon enough something snapped her out of her thoughts. She heard the sound of a fight coming from the manor. Hat Kid ran towards the fight and gasped seeing who was fighting who. It was Snatcher against his ex-wife Vanessa, and the battle looked bloody.

Snatcher was covered in cuts as well as bleeding from his head, and Queen Vanessa didn’t have a scratch on her. Hat was getting scared, and wanted to help Snatcher, but something was preventing her from doing so.

“Its over, my Prince! Queen Vanessa shouted as she released a bunch of ice crystals surrounding the two one of them being right towards Snatcher’s body. Suddenly, Hat was able to move and she ran towards the ice rock barrier. However, before she could reach Snatcher an ice rock barricade her from doing so.

Hat Kid tried using her umbrella beam to break through the ice, but she couldn’t. “Snatcher! Snatcher!” Hat Kid cried. Snatcher and Vanessa heard the cries of the child trying to break free of the ice and rescuing her friend.

Queen Vanessa chuckled hearing the young child’s cries. “I see your little friend has arrived.”

Snatcher growled. “Don’t you dare TOUCH HER VEN!” He shouted.

Queen Vanessa laughed. “Who said I was going to touch her?” She asked. Snatcher’s eyes widen realizing what his ex-wife meant.

“N-NO!” Snatcher shouted.

From outside the wall, Hat Kid froze as she heard what sounded like someone getting impaled followed by choking noise. Soon the ice wall fell except for Queen Vanessa, who was now back in her human form except for her hand still having the black shadow. She turned to Hat Kid with an evil smirk, making the young girl step back from her.

However, that wasn’t the true horror. Hat Kid turned to the left of her, and covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming. There, lied Snatcher, dead once again, impaled by Queen Vanessa’s ice rock. Hat Kid walked slowly towards her BFF, Blood started to pool beneath her feet and some came from Snatcher’s mouth. His eyes were closed like he was resting, but he wasn’t.

“S-Snatcher?” Hat Kid whispered. No response. “Snatcher please get up!” She begged. Still no response. “Snatcher. L-let’s go back to Subcon! O-or the ship! W-we can help you.” Hat Kid begged hoping Snatcher was still alive and not dead for good. “P-please Snatcher.”

After begging, Hat Kid collapsed on the ground and sobbed. Her BFF was dead, and he was never coming back.

Hat Kid gasped waking up from her nightmare. She looked around her ship and sighed knowing it was all a dream. Hat Kid collapsed on her bed and looked up, she wasn’t getting anymore sleep after what she saw in her nightmare.

“Maybe I’ll grab a snack.” Hat Kid whispered to herself. She grabbed her crow agent plushie, put on her signature hat, and walked out of her room to the kitchen. Her ship was very quiet, and a bit spooky when the lights were off. Hat Kid wouldn’t be so scared, but after her nightmare she had become wary.

Nearing the kitchen, she heard a small noise making her jump. Hat Kid gulped and gathered all the courage she had before entering her kitchen. As she did, she saw a figure moving around the kitchen and putting something on the table. Hat Kid reached for the light and turned it on.

“Ah!” Snatcher screamed almost dropping his glass of milk.

“Ah!” Hat Kid screamed back. However, Hat Kid shook it off seeing it was only Snatcher. “Snatcher, what are you doing up?” She asked.

Snatcher sighed seeing it was only his BFF. “I should be asking the same thing.” He replied. Hat Kid sighed and turned away from the former ghost. Just looking at him brought back the nightmare she had. The ice, the blood, her cries repeated in her mind like a movie.

Hat Kid frowned and shook her head. “I-I just couldn’t sleep. Figured a snack could help me.” She told Snatcher.

Snatcher frowned knowing Hat Kid was keeping something from him. He could sense it. He knelled down to be at eye level towards the kid and put a hand on her shoulder. “Kiddo there’s something wrong. I can feel it.” He said.

“I-I don’t want to talk about it.” Hat Kid said looking away.

“Kiddo, please. You can tell me anything.” Snatcher replied giving a small smile.

Hat Kid sniffled and hugged Snatcher tight crying into his chest. The former ghost was surprised and held the child close to him and rubbing her back for comfort. As Hat Kid cried she tried to tell Snatcher what happened in her nightmare. “Y-you were fighting the evil Queen, and I-I tried to help, b-but sh-she k-killed.” Hat Kid stopped and started to cry harder on Snatcher’s chest.

Snatcher was shocked the poor girl had a nightmare about him. If he was still a ghost he wouldn’t care and just let the girl cry till she passed out. This was different; he needed to comfort the girl tell her its alright and it was just a night terror plaguing her dreams.

However, it truly wasn’t a dream. If Vanessa did invade Subcon while he was stuck like this he would need to fight his ex-wife and it would be a battle between life or death.

“Kiddo its just a dream. I promise you nothing will happen to me, even if I fight Vanessa.” Snatcher reassured. However, the kid still cried hugging Snatcher tighter. Snatcher sighed and continued the ease the girl of her sorrow. Now Snatcher needed to speak up why he was up as well. “You know kiddo, I-I had a nightmare myself.”

Hat Kid stopped crying and looked up at the former ghost. She sniffled and wiped the tears away from her eyes. “R-really?” She asked. Snatcher nodded. Hat Kid sniffled and hugged her plushie tighter. “A-are you lying?” She asked.

“No. Kiddo I’m not.” Snatcher answered back in a whisper. Hat Kid looked up at Snatcher eyes and closed her eyes too nodding slowly. He was telling the truth. Hat Kid sighed and hugged Snatcher again. Snatcher gave a small smile and hugged the young girl back, once again.

“Is that why your up?” Hat Kid asked, muffled as her face was covered by Snatcher’s shirt.

Snatcher nodded, “Yes.” He replied. “I remember a bit as a child, m-my parents would get me something to drink and a snack after having a nightmare or if I couldn’t sleep due to a bad storm or something.” He explained as he gently pulled the young child away. “That’s why I’m here.”

Hat Kid sniffled and wiped the last remaining tears from her eyes. “M-may I stay with you?” She asked.

Snatcher nodded he adored having some company after a nightmare, even if his company had a nightmare as well. “Of course.” Hat Kid gave a small smile and sat at the table, while Snatcher went over to the stove to make another hot milk for Hat Kid.

Once the hot milk was done, he poured the hot drink into a cup and gave it to Hat Kid. “Thanks.” Hat Kid whispered before blowing on the hot drink before drinking it. Hat Kid smiled enjoying the warm drink and drank some more as well as taking a cookie from the plate. Snatcher chuckled seeing the young girl cheer up. Soon he too drank his milk and had a cookie himself.

“Snatcher?” Hat Kid spoke up. “What was your nightmare?” Snatcher froze in the middle of drinking his milk. He didn’t want to think about the nightmare not at all. But, thanks to Hat he just had too and the worse part of it is, this nightmare involved her. Hat was confused and worried about Snatcher as she saw his expression change. “Snatcher?” She asked again.

Soon enough, Snatcher’s nightmare replayed in his head.

“I-It was our fight we had back when I was a ghost trying to steal your soul.” Snatcher started. He gulped, and continued with the story. “However, this was different. I-I was human again and our fight was pretty brutal. We were both hurt and bleeding, you were scared and crying and I just didn’t give a peck about you, I kept hurting you piece by piece then.” He gulped trying to hold back tears. “Y-you wouldn’t wake up.” He cried.

Hat Kid got out of her seat and ran to Snatcher giving him the third hug tonight. Snatcher stood their shocked, how could the kid still care for him after how he treated her when he was a ghost. He was surprised to meet a young girl or alien like Hat Kid that was so kind and caring. “Did I ever hurt you kiddo?” He asked in a whisper.

Hat Kid looked up at Snatcher and his answer surprised him. “Well, you didn’t really hurt me. I mean you did, but it wasn’t enough to harm me. I was tossed around by many bosses so I was used to it.” She explained giving a giggle.

Snatcher glared, he’d yell but forgot Bow was still asleep. “Why are you taking this like a joke?” He asked giving a low growl.

“I’m not joking around. I’m being honest. I don’t know what I did wrong to be treated as an enemy, but you, you truly didn’t hurt me I had fun in our fight that’s why,” she paused taking Snatcher’s hands in her’s, “I asked you to be my BFF, you’ve been a ghost for so many years that you must of not had a BFF in a long time, so what I’m here to say is your the best-est BFF I ever had!” She beamed.

That’s what warmed up Snatcher’s heart. This kid was the reason why he cared for so much. Even though he didn’t show it or mention it, he truly did care and regretted wanting her dead. Snatcher sniffled and hugged the girl once more and spin her around, making her giggle. “Thanks kiddo, your a sweet, sweet child that I ever met.”

“Thanks Snatcher.” Hat Kid replied.

“Anytime.” Snatcher replied giving a small chuckle. “I’m taking care of you and Bow, so I’m technically your parent, and parents help kids with problems.”

Hat Kid’s signature smug appeared. “So you are a dad to us.” She replied.

Snatcher stuttered, blushing hard. “N-no!” He denied. “I’m just saying technically, not legally!”

“Admit it. You want to adopt us and be our dad!” Hat Kid replied nudging him.

“N-no!” Snatcher snapped back. “I’m just a caretaker!”

Hat Kid chuckled, feeling 100% better after her nightmare. Her chuckles evolved into laughter, and soon Snatcher laughed as well. The two enjoyed each other’s company, laughing, joking, and just being with each other. Hat Kid was right, Snatcher did needed a BFF and he was glad it was her.

Hat Kid’s laughter evolved into a loud yawn, as her eyes started to open and close trying to keep herself awake. Snatcher smiled and yawned as well. “Come on kiddo, let’s get some sleep.” Hat Kid nodded as Snatcher carried her back to her room. Once back into the room he laid Hat Kid down and tucked her in. He put her plush next to her, and put the kid’s signature Hat right next to her bed.

Snatcher walked over to the pillow pile and grabbed a pillow and his blanket and lied down next to Hat Kid’s bed and fell asleep.

[saharamae21]

In Uncharted Waters (Part 6)

Hey guys! Here’s chapter six! Let me know if you like the story line so far!!

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These violent delights have violent ends

A few weeks went by and the world seemed to fall apart around me. I went through each day with no motivation for anything. I barely got out of bed most days. Then school began to creep up slowly. Jasper left and dad got worse. He smiled even less than usual. He drank more. My mom began to worry about our well being, but she never stopped what I went through. When dad drank he yelled too. He screamed at me for what I couldn’t do. He threw things, but never hit me. I was scared though. I wasn’t comfortable at home anymore.

It was the night before the first day of school. I had just gotten home from Topper’s house and when I got in, my dad was at the kitchen table. I tried to slip upstairs, but my dad called me in. I knew it was better to talk to him now. It was better than the other outcome. I walked over timidly and held my breath. He asked me where I was. He told me I should’ve been at the hotel. He told me that I was disappointing him. I said nothing. Up until now it was better to stay quiet. Today was different though. He got mad and threw the scotch glass. I screamed and ducked. I covered my head as the bottle was next. Glass and booze shattered over me, impaling my arms and stinging. I was surrounded by pieces of glass. I couldn’t move without cutting my feet. The decorative bowl on the table was next. My mom came running in as I cried hysterically. She handed me some shoes and told me to find somewhere to stay tonight. I nodded and ran upstairs to grab anything I would need for tomorrow.

20 mins later, I found myself back at Toppers. I threw some rocks at his window in order to get his attention. He glanced out and ran down to see me. He saw the blood, the cuts on my arm. He knew why I was there.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he snuck me inside. I nodded. I sat on his bed as he went and got the first aid kit. I had never been in his room before. It was neater than I thought it would be. The walls were gray and sheets were navy. It wasn’t what I was expecting.

He came back and picked the glass out of my cuts with a pair of tweezers. He gave me a towel to bite down on as he sterilized the wounds. He got the glass out of my arms, but then came time for the cut I didn’t want to address. When my dad threw the bowl, I didn’t have enough reaction time. I closed my eyes and felt glass sink into my cheek. He picked up the tweezers and I grabbed his arm.

“I can’t leave the glass in there, Sav,” he said with sad eyes. Seeing him look at me like that triggered my tears. I broke down, trying not to alert anyone in the house that I was there. He pulled me into his chest and told me it was going to be alright. He picked up the tweezers one more time and held my hand as he removed the piece. He wiped it gently and gave my hand a squeeze.

I’ve never met anyone like Topper. He was sweet like a boyfriend, but neither of us wanted to be romantically involved. He knew everything about me, but he didn’t want to fix me. He was really the best friend I’ve ever had. He was staring at me and analyzing me. I got up from the bed, but he stopped me. He knew if I went out on my own, I wouldn’t be okay. He told me to stay, but I couldn’t get him into trouble like that. I assured him that I would see him bright and early for school.

I slipped out of his house unnoticed and got into my car. I drove to the boneyard and locked the doors. I shut off my lights and closed my eyes. The weather was hot so I had cracked the window, but I was still frying. I was about to sit up and get out of the car, but then there was a knock on the window. I nearly passed at as I saw Rafe’s face beaming back at me.

“Hey Savannah,” he said slyly. “Funny seeing you today.” “Y-you’re supposed to be in prison,” I said. I was shaking as he motioned me to get out. I shook my head and listened to his explanation. I listened to how Ward took the fall for him. How he wanted to make up for being a bad dad. Rafe had learned nothing.

“Are you having fun with Topper?” he asked me. “Are you enjoying it? Being a kook?”

“Leave me alone Rafe,” I warned.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “As long as you're friends with Topper, I won’t touch you. Tell the Pogues I’m coming for them though.”

I didn’t sleep that night. How could I? I sat in my car and contemplated the next move. I couldn’t face JJ. He hasn’t even tried to contact me since. He wanted nothing to do with me. I would see Kie at school tomorrow so that was my best option. I would have to swallow my pride and go up to her. I sighed as I changed into a nicer outfit. I drove to the high school and waited outside. A new year, yet I felt like nothing would change. I got out and walked into the hallway. People stared as I walked by. The cuts on my arms and face stood out. I pulled my shirt down to cover my side that was finally starting to return to its normal color. None of them said anything. I made myself small as I got to my locker. I opened the door and placed my bag inside, grabbing what I needed for the first period. I closed the locker and turned around. Topper was there. He looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“He said he saw you,” he said. I knew he had met Rafe. “He said you guys talked.” “Yeah,” I said. “Have you seen Kiara? I have to warn her.”

“I’ll do it,” he said. “Stop pushing yourself.”

I shook my head no at him. He would be too harsh. It would sound  more like a threat than a warning. I needed to do it. I needed to swallow my pride. I walked calmly over to where Kiara stood. Her face tensed when she saw me.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at the cuts on me. I just nodded and avoided eye contact. “Savannah, if you would just talk to JJ and make up, we could all go back to normal. I don’t know what he said but don’t you think breaking up with him was rash?”

“Breaking up with him?” I asked. “It was his idea! I can’t even talk to you about this… I just came to tell you Rafe is out of prison.”

“What?” she asked. I stared back at her and explained how I ran into him last night. How he’s looking for revenge, redemption even. I couldn’t fathom what he wanted, but he looked so determined. “Well, we need a game plan.” “You need a game plan,” I said. “I’m no pogue. You guys didn’t want me around. I’ll handle Rafe and try to keep him away from you guys, but just lie low. Tell Pope I miss him and I hope he’s doing well. Look out for JJ for me.”

I felt my words catch in my throat as I turned away from her. I walked back to where Topper was and told him I was ready for first period. He rubbed my back as we walked and told me everything was going to be alright. I didn’t believe him though.

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[fandomoneshots-imagines]

Knives Out (Natasha Romanov x Reader)

This is part two of the kink mini series. Updating from my phone and will do further editing and links later!

Summary: The reader is sent on a mission and things get heated.

Warnings: implied smut, quick mention of drugs, sadomasochist relationships (with both Nat and Reader), knife play

PART ONE (Steve’s Kink)

I sat in the meeting bored out of my fucking mind. I didn’t want to be here. I don’t think anyone of us wanted to be here. I flipped the knife in my hand, letting the handles flip through my fingers, tuning out the secretary of state.

“Excuse me, Y/N,” Secretary Ross cleared his throat, “Are we boring you?”

I looked around the room, looking for someone to help me out. I made eye contact with Sam who mouthed lie.

“Whaaaat?” I drew out, “This is the most interesting meeting ever.” Sam slapped his head and Bucky choked on the water he just took a sip of. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nat cover her smile with the folder we were given at the start of the meeting.

“Can you tell me anything that I’ve said in the 10 minutes that I’ve been here?” Ross asked, leaning forward to brace himself on the table.

“Yeah you said thanked us for coming. And then you asked if I was bored.” I gave him a triumphant grin.

“Anything between that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Something on something that we need to take care of?” I guessed, flipping the knife shut. Secretary Ross dropped his head.

“This team will be the death of me.” He mumbled under his breath, “You, Romanov, Rogers, and Barnes will be going to Colombia. Intel about weapons trafficking from a cartel. You four are going to stop it.”

“Ah, Colombia. Great coffee, great drugs, beautiful women.” I leaned back in the chair, drumming my fingers on the table.

“What was that?” Ross looked up.

“Beautiful women?” I looked at him weird. Tony had his hand folded over his mouth to hide his laughter but the shaking of his shoulders gave it away.

“No, before that.”

“Oh, great coffee?” I questioned. Steve turned around in his chair, taking great interest in a picture hanging on the wall

“No, the other thing.” Ross’ jaw clenched.

“Ah, Colombia?” I tilted my head. The folder Nat was holding was shaking, trying to keep in her laughter.

“Get out of my conference room. All of you. Rogers, you’re in charge. You leave tomorrow.” Ross fell back in his chair and we all left in a hurry.

“I swear, Y/N, you’re going to get grounded again.” Sam laughed as we filed out of the room.

“Oh please, if I was grounded you all would have no way of getting in with locals anywhere. People love me.” I rolled my eyes.

We piled into two separate vehicles, riding back to the Avengers compound. The four of us going on the mission rode in one together, going over the file that we received.

“So, it looks like the weapons are moving through a local bar.” Bucky read the folder. He was sitting in the front seat, riding shotgun with Steve in the driver’s seat. I was reading my folder, flipping my knife once again, but actually paying attention this time.

“We don’t have much of a window. The bar is an open air bar so we’re exposed from everywhere.” Steve added.

“How much of a window do we have?” Nat asked, watching me from the corner of her eye.

“We have a five minute window to stop the movement of 4 crates of weapons.” Bucky read from the file. I flipped through and noticed pictures of some of the men that may be facilitating in the trafficking.

“Nat and I can handle the men. You two handle the crates.” I flipped my knife closed. Nat’s head jerked towards me.

“What?” A chorus of voices asked.

“What what?” I looked back and forth between them, “I’m coming up with an idea to distract the men.”

“I do believe I’m the leader on this one, Y/N. I’ll come up with a plan.” Steve eyed me from the rear view mirror.

“Ok, then you and Bucky can use your femininity to seduce the men and Natasha and I will grab the crates.” I challenged. It was silent in the car for a few seconds.

“Steve, she -,” Bucky started to say.

“Don’t say it Bucky.” Steve let out a sigh.

The next night Natasha and I were at the outdoor bar in a very hot Colombia. I was wearing a black dress, that hit right below my knees. Natasha was wearing jeans which were tight but also easy to move in, and a flowy tank top. On my body was a multitude of knives. I had two on either side of both of my thighs, two down the down the back of my bra, and a few others hidden on my body. Nat also had two knives down in both boots she was wearing. Plus one gun on either hip, hence the flowy tank.

“Three men are standing on the right side of the bar.” Steve said through the ear com device.

“Two men at my 10 o’clock.” Bucky informed.

“One at our 7 o’clock.” Nat mumbled to the glass in her hand. I watched her as she took a sip from her glass and her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

“Let’s dance.” I stood up from my chair and took her hand. All around us people were dancing. I heard two voices of protest but Nat stood up and followed me to the makeshift dance floor of the open air bar. The music played loudly and I pulled Natasha close to me, switching both of our coms to mute. “You remember that night a few weeks ago.” I said, leaning in to talk in her ear. I slowly moved my body against hers, moving her hands around my body.

“How could I forget?” She grinned, moving her body with mine, “We couldn’t get enough of each other. My favorite part was when I had you squirming under my body.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, pressing my body more into hers, “My favorite part was when you were squirming under me.” I leaned in gently brushing my lips against hers, our bodies grinding together in rhythm with the music.

“The guy that was at your seven is moving in closer.” Bucky said through the com, “He’s at your 12 Nat.”

Natasha’s hand slowly moved down my body and hiked one of my legs up over her thigh, her hand slowly moving up under my dress, sliding one of my knives out of its sheath. Her pressed her lips hard against mine and threw the knife, no doubt hitting the target with a kill shot.

I licked her bottom lip and gently but it, causing a moan to fall from her lips, and pushed my tongue in her mouth, “Two men from the bar coming your way, coming from your 12, Y/N.” I heard Steve say through the com unit.

I slowly slid down Nat’s body, sliding the two blades from Nat’s boots. I stood back up, wrapping my arms around Nat’s neck, the two knives expertly hidden, “You know your marks are starting to scar up.” I smirked, flicking both of my wrists, watching both knives land center target and grinned as they dropped to the floor.

Nat moved down the top of my press, pressing a kiss to the forming scar at the swell of my breast, “Fuck,” I smirked hearing Bucky whisper through the ear piece. “Uh, o-only three targets left. I-If you can get the other guy by the bar to move Steve and I can get in.”

I turned in the direction of the bar and turned in Nat’s arms. She slowly moved her arms up my body, biting and kissing my neck. I smirked making eye contact with the loan man by the door and moved my hips more dramatically to the music and wrapped one of my arms back around Nat’s neck. She bit down on one of the older scars she once left on my neck, causing a moan to pass through my lips and my head dropping back against her shoulder.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” She whispered against my skin, “I can’t wait to leave more scars on you tonight.” The fingers on one of her hands moved up to my throat and the other one pressed right against my pelvis, not quite cupping my sex. I kept eye contact with the man at the bar and opened my mouth in another soft moan, bucking my hips against her hand. That small movement made the man move away from the door he was posted at and move in our direction. I held my hand out for him as Nat slipped one of the blades from my bra. Over the man’s shoulder I watched Bucky and Steve slip through the door. Once the man close enough for our fingers to touch I pulled him to him, impaling him on the knife that was not stuck between my arm.

The man looked down at where the knife connected our bodies and looked back up at me. I placed my hands on his cheeks and softly kissed his lips before pushing him off, letting his body drop to the floor. I turned around, taking the knife from Nat, wiping the blade off on my dress.

“Come on. The faster we finish this, the sooner we can get back to our room.” I smirked and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the door the two super soldiers slipped through. As we entered the room both Steve and Bucky had a crate rested on both shoulders.

“So you guys got everything covered. We’ll just be leaving.” I turned to walk back out the door.

“Not so fast. We still have to make it to the car.” Steve smirked. “You two can have your fun in a little bit.”

I groaned as Natasha handed me one of the guns she had holstered on her hip. I hated gun, hated the sounds they made, and hated the feel of the recoil. Didn’t mean I didn’t know how to use one though. We slipped out the door, Nat and I leading defenses.

The four of us moved through people with stealth, at least as much stealth as you could have with two six foot men, carrying large crates on their shoulders.

“Sixth man coming up on our right.” Bucky said. I didn’t want to draw attention by shooting off the gun and pulled a knife from the sheath on my thigh. As soon as the final man got close enough, I threw it landing the knife in the center of his chest, keeping my eyes straight ahead of me looking out for any potential threats

“That was so hot,” Nat mumbled, making me smirk. We got back to the truck and the two men put the crates.

“Are we done now?” I groaned.

“We’re done. You two go do whatever it is you want to do. We’ll coordinate with the team to get these weapons destroyed.” Steve waved us off. Natasha grabbed myself hand and the two of us ran to the hotel we were staying at. We got back to our room and was immediately pushed against the door, soft hands pushing my dress down.

“How fucked up is it that we get turned on like this during missions?” She brushed her lips against my pulse point.

“It’s super fucked up.” I chuckled and pushed her back towards the bed, stepping out of the dress that was pooled at my feet, standing only in my strapless bra and underwear. I quickly removed Nat’s clothing like she did with mine and just stared at her body, then smirked and moved to straddle her hips.

“Where are you thinking of putting your mark tonight?” Nat’s hands ran up my sides, her fingers brushed the underside of my breast.

“I almost don’t want to. Your body is perfect babe.” I said, licking my lips, “But I do have an idea.” I smirked moving down her legs, slowly kissing up her thighs. One of Nat’s hands tangled in my hair, gently pulling at it. I moved over to the other thigh giving it the same attention and slipped one last knife from the thigh sheaths.

“Don’t move,” I bit her left thigh and flipped the knife in my hand like I was holding a pencil. I slowly started marking into her skin, watching as blood pooled out of each cut, taking shape of my initials. Once I was finished with my masterpiece I place soft kisses on either side.

“It’s perfect.” She smiled sitting up, kissing me hard, quickly shifting her weight and hovered over me.

“Just thought since I had your initials, you should have mine.” I panted as she kissed down my neck, smiling as she kissed her healing initials on my left breast, like how she had done earlier in the evening.

“I love you Y/N.” She brushed her lips over mine, brushing her thumb over my cheek, “I know we can’t actually get married because of how much of a risk it could be but this means just as much to me.” Her hand slowly made its way down my body, pushing my bra down as she went.

“I love you too Natasha. One day we will get married though.” I moaned softly as she slowly began rubbing my clit.

“Most definitely,” She mumbled against then roughly sucked on my neck, “But until then, I’m going to show you exactly how much you mean to me.”

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Tags:

@heyiamthatbitch @notyourtypicalrose

[zenithlux]

Cadence Update - 24

Catch up on the story here!

Long lost words whisper slowly to me Still can’t find what keeps me here When all this time I’ve been so hollow inside I know your still there Watching me…

Haunted - Evanescence

-------------

That night, the nightmares returned.

He’d forgotten how miserable each one was; an endless cycle of torture and almost-death that always ended once he’d healed again. He’d tried to forget them. He’d thought he’d moved on. But on this particular night, this particular set of dreams, he knew that he failed. 

Oh Nelo…

Mundus’ face hovered in the sky above him, but Vergil didn’t dare meet its gaze. He couldn’t. Not anymore. Not when that monster was so close to him now. Over and over he chanted: It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. But that only amused Nightmare Mundus, whose booming laugh reverberated in Vergil’s very bones.

You tried so hard to escape.

Vergil hissed as shards of glass shot through him in so many places his brain couldn’t process them all. He bit his tongue, drawing blood as another one pierced straight through his chest. His lungs collapsed - he’d felt that enough times to know what was happening - and he gasped as air flooded out of him in a panic. 

But this is inevitable, Nelo. 

The shards retreated. His body healed. Air rushed back into his lungs, painfully filling in where the holes had once been. It wouldn’t be long until another series of something impaled him. Glass. Swords. Bones. Yamato. 

Yamato… That is an interesting idea. Mundus whispered. I wonder if I’d be better off discarding your pesky human emotions altogether. 

Vergil wished he could fight back. He prayed for some kind of snide remark that would prove he was still fighting. But nothing came to him but cold, hard dread. He would not survive a second break. His human form would vanish in an instant. His demon half would follow its new master. He would cease to exist. 

Vergil!

Mundus growled. That foolish girl interrupts what she does not understand. 

“Leave her out of this,” Vergil said. 

Vergil! Wake up!

Mundus chuckled. I’m afraid that’s just not possible. But how fun it will be to tear her to pieces in front of you. Maybe I’ll start with the familiars…

“Enough!” Vergil shouted, stretching against the chains that dug further into his skin. “You will not have me.”

We shall see. 

“Wake up!”

Vergil snapped upright in a panic. A yelp of surprise caught him off guard as his hand found flesh. A blast of cold smacked him in the chest. He recoiled as his vision finally cleared. Roxy hit the ground, gasping for air as she reached for her neck. A bruise was already forming, and Vergil realized what he’d done. 

No…

No. No. No.

“Leave!” He yelled.

“No!” She snapped back as she dragged herself to her feet. 

“I said…”

“I’m not leaving you!”

Silence fell. Kuro retreated, his energy slipping back into Roxy. The bruise vanished, leaving Vergil to stare into her furious gaze instead. 

No… not furious. 

Terrified.

“I hurt you.” 

“It was my fault,” She said. “I shouldn’t have tried to shake you awake like that.”

 “You didn’t have a choice.”

“It was Mundus, wasn’t it?” When Vergil said nothing, she sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“You…”

“Dia won’t be back for at least a week. She’s working with Nico as we speak and has Dante and Nero watching out for more unusual portals. Our Yamato thief has not reappeared, but the chances of them finding this place are slim to none.”

“There’s still a chance.”

“That is why we need to figure out what we have to do,” She said. “The moment Dia comes back, we have to make the pact or this will all be for nothing. I’ve located some of my father’s work, but I’ve only found some information on his transplants.” She paused for a moment then, quietly, she said, “Have you always had nightmares?”

“I assumed you were aware of them.”

Roxy blinked. “Why? I sleep pretty soundly when I actually fall asleep.”

“When you actually…?” Vergil trailed off as his gaze hardened. “How many days?”

She looked away. “Since?”

“You’ve slept a full night.”

Still, she didn’t look at him, but her fingers tightened on the blanket. “Three or so.” She mumbled. “I’ve gotten about eight hours total. I think. Maybe less.” She shook her head. “This isn’t about me.”

“If you’ve needed help…”

She snorted. “With what, sleeping? And how are you going to help with that? Sing me a lullaby?”

“You need to rest.” 

“I can’t, Vergil.” There was a hint of anger in her tone, but she clearly didn’t have the energy to express it. “And I don’t appreciate you turning this conversation on me.” When she met his gaze again, it was with a soft, warning glare. “How would I know about your nightmares?”

“Aki,” Vergil said. “He’s always been there when I have one.”

She stared at him, and Vergil was absolutely positive she had no idea what he was talking about. “But why?” She muttered, more to herself than him. “How would that even help?” She went silent for a moment as her eyes closed. Vergil could imagine her reaching deep into her subconscious, searching for Aki’s soul. Maybe she would summon him. Maybe she wouldn’t. It didn’t matter as long as she got answers. When her eyes opened again, they were Kuro’s pale blue. “Aki says he could feel your distress and wanted to comfort you.” She shook her head. “I never considered that my own familiars could help you.” 

“How?”

“Kuro’s magic is primarily healing,” She said. “And Aki has likely absorbed plenty over the years…” Her eyes brightened suddenly as if a literal lightbulb had gone off in her head. “I can help too!”

“What?”

“Proximity,” She whispered. “Maybe if I sleep in the same room…”

“Absolutely not. I’m not risking your life to make myself feel better.” Vergil said. 

Her anger flared up again. This time, she had no trouble showing it. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I��m not an idiot, Roxy.” He said. “I saw the bruise.”

“I bruise very easily,” She said. “And, as you can see,” she waved her hand near her neck. “It’s gone.”

“Roxy,”

“Please, Vergil,” She said. “Let me at least try.” 

“... You’re not going to give this up are you?”

“Nope.”

Vergil sighed. “Fine.” 

--------------

After three days of near-perfect sleep, it was Kuro who woke Vergil up. 

“Come,” The dragon said, his snout incredibly close to Vergil’s face. “Leave her here.” He hopped off the bed and sauntered away, leaving Vergil to stare at the ceiling. Roxy was asleep beside him, as her heartbeat was a gentle thump that had miraculously kept most of the nightmares away. He’d had a couple, but she’d always been there to soothe him back to sleep. In fact, Roxy had barely left his side since her promise, constantly finding ways to distract him when his mind wandered too far. And Vergil didn’t mind the constant companionship, though he was very aware that he was much less her caretaker now than she was his. But, considering how quiet the rest of his family had been (which he hoped was a good sign), she was the glue holding him together. 

Of course, none of this helped him figure out what Kuro could possibly want on a morning like this. The dragon had been rather quiet as of late. After they’d been forced to give Roxy some of Vergil’s blood to keep her functioning without the extra demons to help, Kuro had all but disappeared. Roxy said he was keeping track of her “from within” (though she had sounded a bit skeptical about that). The dragon had claimed he was giving them privacy, but the two had both agreed they weren’t doing anything that necessarily needed it. Sure, the two had been more open about their feelings toward each other, but they still had a lot to figure out before anything… drastic.

Honestly, that was the furthest thing from Vergil’s mind at the moment. They’d have plenty of time to figure things out once Mundus was taken care of. 

Aki appeared on Vergil’s chest and gave a series of chirps as he tilted his head in what Vergil assumed was a “what are you waiting for?”. Then, the bird ran up Vergil’s arm and curled up in the small space beside a sleeping Roxy. Vergil sighed as he absentmindedly ran his thumb along her arm. Dia hadn’t returned yet, though he had no way of knowing how time worked between her world and theirs. He didn’t have the mental energy to stress over that too. 

A low growl is what finally got him out of bed, and he wasn’t surprised to find a very irritated, and rather large Kuro sitting outside. He towered a good few feet over Vergil, tongue flicking in pure frustration.

Vergil was not impressed. 

“Slow as usual,” Kuro said.

“If you’re trying to intimidate me, don’t bother,” Vergil replied.

“You are not ready.”

“For?”

“To be her familiar.”

Vergil’s eyebrow shot up. “It is temporary, is it not?”

“You don’t know how long that might be,” Kuro said. “What if Mundus’ hold on you does not immediately break? What if his mark remains and he comes after her? What if my power is overused in the process and she needs yours to keep her going?” Kuro’s head rose a bit higher. “You are wholly unprepared for the possibilities, and I am going to teach you.”

“I know how familiars work,” Vergil said. 

“Summoning is a lot different than being summoned.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Kuro huffed. “How do you maintain balance between her energy and yours?”

“I…” Vergil trailed off, realizing the ruse was up.

“How do you keep your thoughts from flowing freely into her mind?”

“I’m sure that’s…”

“How do you keep your nightmares from terrorizing her?”

“You’ve made your point.”

“Have I?” Kuro said. “Do you know how to summon yourself in any form she needs you in, regardless of the strain it puts on you? Do you know how to channel your demonic magic where she needs it instead of yourself? Do you even know what it’s like to put someone else’s safety entirely above your own?” The dragon’s muzzle was uncomfortable close now, and his voice only got louder. “This isn’t some game, Vergil. It’s her life. And I will not allow you to undo the sacrifices I have made to maintain it.” 

“It isn’t my intention to hurt her,” Vergil said. “Nor am I so foolish to risk her life.”

“You’re afraid.”

Vergil’s eyes drifted closed. “Not of her.”

“Of what could happen.”

“I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Which is why I ask that you learn what you can while you have the chance,” Kuro said. “If something goes wrong, you need to be the one in control, understand?” 

Finally, Vergil nodded. “I do.”

[join-the-joywrite]

Time After Time -- 2

a boy a girl a time turner

when a time turner is shattered in a small fight, it’s up to the unlikely pair to figure out how to survive until the end of the war. it’s their only shot at breaking the loop.

masterpost prev || next

Chapter 2 - When Pansy tried her luck

Hermione sat up with a gasp. Hand on her chest, she struggled to breathe. Her vision remained hazy as her eyes began to water. She felt as though someone was squeezing her lungs. She couldn't breathe.

"Drink," a soft voice told her as a glass was held up to her lips. Hermione drank.

She choked on the water when she realised she'd listened to Draco Malfoy without questioning it. She screamed as she fell over the arm of the couch in an attempt to scramble away. At least she wasn't choking anymore -- and she could breathe.

Hermione stood up and pointed her wand at him. "What did you put in there?! What -- did you drug me?! Where--" She broke off finding an odd sense of deja vu.

"Off Hogwarts grounds. I had to bring you out here. I couldn't get into the Room and if any of your friends had found me with you, I'd be dead and it would all be to waste."

Hermione's hand shook. "What -- what happened?"

"Well, bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time. We broke the Time-Turner."

"What I saw in there . . . is that what really happens? To me?"

Draco shrugged as he turned and set the glass down on a wooden table. Hermione suddenly realised they were in Hagrid's cottage. "I don't know. All I know is that my future and present self merged. The future is infinite. We won't know until it happens."

"But if you're still the version that came back, shouldn't you know?"

"I don't know what's real and what's not. The future is always changing depending on what happens now. Breaking the Time-Turner could've changed course, shown us what could've happened, what will happen or what might never happen. Nothing is certain."

"I'm leaving. They'll be looking for me."

Draco nodded, not looking at Hermione. "Your jacket is over that chair there. You had shards of glass in your shoulder. I didn't look."

Hermione rolled her left shoulder, wincing when she felt the pain. With her right hand, she lightly rubbed from her collarbone to her shoulder. Her fingers grazed over what felt like welts. In addition, she felt rather short of breath, as she often did when she woke from violent nightmares. "Thank you."

She picked up her jacket and headed towards the door. As she passed by Draco, he grabbed her wrist. "Be careful, Hermione."

She nodded stiffly. "I will."

And without another glance, Hermione left the cottage, feeling a sinking dread, as if something truly devastating was to follow.

///////////////

"If anyone here has knowledge of Mr Potter's movements this evening," Severus Snape addressed the gathered students, "I invite them to step forward now."

Hermione watched from behind Harry as he stepped forward. In the dead silence of the hall, his footsteps echoed like thunder. "I think I could help with that."

The odd feeling of deja vu brushed over Hermione again as several students' faces lit up with hope. Professor McGonagall looked absolutely delighted. Hermione zoned out as she noticed Draco hiding behind a few taller students. She could not tell which house they were.

"How dare you stand where he stood?!"

Hermione blinked and turned back to see Harry screaming at Snape.

"Tell them how it was that night!" Harry cried, jabbing his wand at the air between him and the professor. "Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you . . . and killed him! TELL THEM!"

The hall was silent. Several hands twitched over their wands, waiting. The student body gasped when Snape drew his wand, but when McGonagall pushed Harry aside and drew her own wand, the students scrambled away, some screaming. In the chaos, Hermione's gaze found Draco again.

Even the Order had split to the sides to give McGonagall the room she needed to duel the man who was once her own student.

Hermione's eyes searched the other side of the hall. She found Ron with Ginny, arms protectively wrapped around his sister. Harry had stumbled into them and Ginny held Harry's hand in her own. Three of Ron's brothers stood with Hermione.

Once again, her gaze landed on Draco. This time, he was watching her. She motioned for him to come towards her. That dream had been awful, flying out a window and dying. It still made her shudder. She made sure to meet Draco between two windows, where the wall would stop her from going down. Nightmares were terrible things.

"What?"

"You called me."

"You were staring at me."

"Uh, you've still got some sand on your face." Draco only meant to point in the general direction, but Hermione turned to see how her professor fared and Draco's fingers brushed her cheekbone. "Sorry."

"Is it gone?" Hermione asked, ignoring everything else. "Who knows what would happen if we still had--"

Children and adults alike screamed as a force blew across the hall, shattering the windows and throwing people off balance. While everyone was preoccupied with Snape vanishing, no one noticed Hermione grab Draco and hide herself between him and the wall.

The students scrambled as the roof caved in at the centre. Wood splintered and flew over their heads as they ducked, as if the sharp pieces had been thrown like javelins. Concrete slammed against the tiles. Empty suits of armour fell to pieces, tossed about in the crumbling building. Screaming students avoided flying swords.

"Hermione. . ."

Hermione couldn't form words. She couldn't see anything past the deep red stain on Draco's shirt, surrounding the tip of the splintered wood in his shoulder.

"No. This isn't what I saw. This isn't what happens. This--"

"Hermione!" Her name echoed across the hall from the lips of her friends. It was only then that she glanced down and noticed the blade pinning both her and Draco to the wall.

"You weren't supposed to die," she told Draco.

"Neither were you."

///////////////

Hermione sat up with a gasp. Hands pressed to her stomach, she forced her eyes open just as Draco turned around with the glass of water.

"Drink," he said gently, holding the glass out.

She didn't take it. Instead, she stared up at him with her mouth open. Sighing, Draco knelt next to the couch and fed her the water.

"I just died," Hermione whispered as Draco got up to set the empty glass on the table.

He glanced back to see her staring at her hands, almost as if she expected to see them stained red. He scoffed. "You just passed out. Don't be so dramatic."

Hermione looked up at him. "You died."

Now, Draco laughed. "Being on the run mess with that brain of yours? You only passed out. You must've had a nightmare. Or maybe it was the Time-Turner. What did you see?"

"Bodies," Hermione answered honestly, "too many. It was past dawn."

Draco sat down on the chair at the table. "Yeah?"

"There was . . . there was a battle. A war. So many died. I -- I died."

"I saw that too," Draco said softly. "If that was the future then I guess I owe you my life."

"But I died in the Great Hall."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Now that was probably a nightmare. There is a version of the future where you die and you've had a glimpse into it so maybe that's what brought the nightmare on."

Hermione watched as Draco got up and went to pick up her jacket. He paused, jacket in hand. "How did you die?" he asked, curious.

"Impaled. The ceiling in the hall caved. Those not suits of armour were knocked around. Swords were flying. One of them ran us both through. You got hit by splintered wood too."

"Both of us? What . . . why?"

Hermione shrugged. "I thought I was going to fall out the window. I don't know why. I figured if I stayed between someone and the wall, neither of us would fall out the window and -- well, you were right there."

Draco smirked to deflate the tension. "Why, Granger, I didn't know you dreamt about me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She stood up and yanked her jacket from Draco. "Thanks. I'll be going now. They'll be looking for me."

"Tale care not to daydream about me."

"Sod off."

Just before she left, Draco caught her wrist. "Be careful, Hermione."

Hermione glanced at his hand around her wrist. "I will," she said, finding his gray eyes full of life. In the doorway of the cottage, she glanced back to see Draco sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

Hermione left.

///////////////

Unlike her nightmares, Hermione did not go to Draco, nor did she call him to her, when she noticed him staring. Instead, she raised her eyebrows.

Draco tapped his left cheek.

Hermione brushed her fingers over her left cheek.

Draco gave her a small smile and a nod.

Instinctively, she ducked when Snape made his exit. The windows neither blew out, nor did the ceiling cave. Hermione relaxed as the students cheered Snape's fleeing. The cheers didn't last long. A cold and horrifying voice filled the air.

"I know many of you will want to fight. Some of you may even think this wise. But this is folly."

Voldemort, Hermione's mind told her.

"I wish you no harm. I have great respect for the students of Hogwarts. I was once one myself after all. I ask for but one thing and if granted, no magical blood shall be split."

Hermione's gaze fell on Draco again, but his gaze was fixed on Harry.

"Give me Harry Potter. Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I will leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded."

Still unaware of Hermione's gaze on him, Draco slowly shook his head. Slowly, everyone else's gaze fell on Harry. Hermione's never left Draco. Why did it seem as if he knew what was about to happen?

"He's right there!" Pansy Parkinson cried, pointing. "Someone grab him!"

Harry was rather moved at the sight of every Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw stepping between him and the Slytherins, but what truly brought him -- and quite a few others -- to tears was witnessing the first line of defence for Harry be Slytherins themselves. They stood, lined up, wands ready. Most glared at Pansy. Others fixed their gaze on unmoving Slytherins. Hermione watched, transfixed, as Draco pushed through the Slytherins.

Pansy looked thrilled as Draco reached for his wand. Her expression quickly turned terrified when Draco stepped in front of her and the point of his ebony wand found itself tucked under his chin, placing ever so slight pressure on her throat. "Stand down, Parkinson," he warned softly.

Hermione had never seen anyone look so threatening and dangerous -- and she'd fought many a dangerous foe before -- in all her life. Just as she was transfixed by Draco, Pansy could not tear her gaze away. Though, unlike Hermione, Pansy was terrified out of her wits. Several students moved away from Pansy, backing up against each other and the wall.

The doors burst open for Filch. "Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!"

"They're supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot!" McGonagall cried.

"Last chance," Draco whispered, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Filch murmured. He turned to leave.

"Wait," Draco called. The sudden increase in volume stunned Pansy. When Draco left to whisper something to McGonagall, Pansy let out the breath she hadn't even realised she'd been holding. One student rushed to her side, rubbing soothing circles on her back and holding tightly to her hand.

"Mr Filch," McGonagall said, "as it turns out, your arrival is most opportune. If you would, I'd like you to escort Miss Parkinsoit out of the hall. Any who agree with her may follow right behind."

"Right away," Filch said. He turned to leave. He stopped. "Where exactly is it I'll be leadin' em to?"

Gazes moved from McGonagall to the young man that stood behind her, hand clasped behind his back. He leaned forward and whispered something in the professor's ear.

"I think the dungeons will do nicely," McGonagall said, fighting a smile.

Draco's expression remained blank as McGonagall turned to Harry and Filch herded Pansy and several Slytherins away. He gave them one last look before turning, preparing to stand protectively over his fellow Slytherins in front of everyone else.

Hermione saw Pansy turn back and pull out her wand, aiming for the blond. In her nightmares, Draco had died first. Hermione didn't know if she even liked him, but she knew she didn't hate him. "No!"

"Hermione!" several people cried as Pansy shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

Hermione fell into Draco, knocking him down. Briefly blinded, everyone covered their eyes.

"Hermione?"

Draco found himself holding on to Hermione's lifeless body, not for the first time.

prev || next

[thedragonswillreturn]

You know that feeling when you’re drafting out a character, and just completely fall in love with them?

Because...I mean...like...

THIS

“AHHHH!”

I sprinted around the room, seizing everything that wasn’t nailed down and throwing against the walls, the floor, the fucking ceiling, I roundhouse kicked every single cabinet door off of its hinges and then I leaped onto the table, screamed, shot into the air and roundhouse kicked the chandelier, screamed because the chandelier did not give way, fell backward onto the floor, lept to my feet, screamed again, suplexed the table, launched it into the air and smashed it against the ceiling, nearly made it collapse, and then lay there gasping in the splinters, shards of glass and pottery in my hair. 

“You know what...I should really stop doing stuff like this…”

“Yeah, probably.” Mark said from the safety of the doorway.

“I mean...like…” I gestured aimlessly with my hand, “it’s hard to regret...because it was really, really fun, but...the clean up is always a bitch, you get me?” I sat up straight, “you know what? Yeah! I’m not gonna do this kind of thing anymore! I-�� I tried to stand up, slipped on some glass and nearly fucking impaled myself, “I WILL DESTROY MY HOUSE NO LONGER!” I stood up, was extremely proud of myself, and waltzed my way over to Mark, “I can do this, and I am very proud of myself, and I- Oh sweet God IT’S HIM.”

“Caitlyn!” David appeared next to Mark, gasping for breath, “I...uh...I got something to tell you! But...ah...you should probably be in am...empty space when you find out.”

“David.” I leaned against the doorframe and squeezed my eyes shut, “are you perhaps suggesting that, upon me hearing your news, I will go apeshit and destroy my house?”

“Uh…” David glanced behind me at my destroyed living room, “kinda?”

“Well,” I threw myself across the rest of the doorframe, “then you will be glad to know that I do not do that kind of thing anymore.” 

Glass sprinkled out of my hair. 

“Because you see, I’ve changed.”

The chandelier smashed to pieces behind me. 

“I AM A CHANGED INDIVIDUAL.”

There was a long silence, where all you could hear was the crackling of the flaming chandelier remnants, and a small poof as the stovetop burst into flames.

“What you see behind me is not a reflection of who I currently am as I person.” I whispered. 

The ceiling collapsed.

“Please, tell me the news, David.”

David and Mark glanced at each other, “well...it’s kinda a long story.”

“I have however long it takes for the chandeliers fire to kill me, David.”

“Right.” He glanced at Mark again, “so basically…what happened was…”

“David.” I gazed at him sternly.

“I don’t know how to say this.”

“Quickly would be best, David. The chandelier fire only grows.”

“Right, I just…”

“David. Do not worry about my reaction. I am going to remain completely calm.” 

He cringed away from me like I was a ticking time bomb, which could not have been further from the truth, I was more like a serene, peaceful ocean, like a meth addict who just got his first shot in weeks, I was-”

“Stephan has the bomb.”

“HE HAS THE FUCKING WHAT?!”

Excuse the writing, I dashed this off in a fever of inspiration, but I’m really happy with the general like, idea of this character. And after a good few days of really hating writing, it’s even better, it makes all the pain feel worth it.