#anyway. just need to scream into the void for a while before i can scrub the bathroom floor

[elementalwriter67]

The Void Chapter Twelve

Word Count: 4079

Pairing: (Eventual) Jason Todd x Reader

Tag List: @wittedhat, @clea-nightingale, @undertheredhood, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @grey-water-colors, @jasonlovertodd, @ximaginx, @lexythedepressy, @e-bendy

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7a, 7b, 8, 9, 10, 11

Summary:  The Void is a hellish place filled with screams that echoed throughout the place at all the hours of the night, and where pain is a very close friend. You’ve spent your entire life in the Void, having been there since you were ten and you’ve just recently gotten a new cellmate… Who’s a little more hopeful than you are that either of you are going to make it out of this place alive. Though you have to admit that maybe his hope is rubbing off on you because you slowly find yourself hoping that the two of you do get out of here.

“Maria! Samantha! Oh it’s been too long since I’ve seen the two of you! How have you two been?” Selina exclaimed as she stood up from her seat in the outdoor cafe a large smile on her face as she made her way over to Barbara and Kate as they walked up to her. 

“I’ve been good, how’s the family? How’s dad?” Barbara asked as she hugged Selina. As the two of them hugged, Selina scanned the crowd behind the both of them before letting go of her and moving towards Kate and pulling her into a hug as well. When Selina was certain that there was nothing behind the two of them she pulled away from Kate and held on to her shoulders smiling widely at her. Nodding her head just slightly Selina let go of Kate and moved back to her seat. 

“Oh the family’s doing well, we had a little scare with grandpa last week while he was at the grocery store but that turned out to be a false alarm but it put your father more on edge than he already has been with your grandfather’s health but what can you do?” Selina said with a shrug of her shoulders as she sat back down in her chair crossing one leg over the other as she picked up her cup of coffee from the table. 

“Have you-” Kate cut herself off as she looked towards the waitress who was walking towards them with a smile on her face. 

“Hi, I’m Cathy. I'll be your server for the evening. Is there anything I can get the two of you?” Cathy asked as Barbara and Kate sat down. Kate and Barbara shared a look before Barbara grabbed the menu and quickly scanned it as Kate looked back at Cathy. 

“I’ll take a black coffee, with no sugar please.” Kate said and Cathy nodded as she jotted down her order before looking up at Barbara. 

“Aaaaannnnndddd I’ll have a chamomile tea with a chocolate scone please.” Barbara told her as she returned the menu to its spot in the middle of the table, flashing Cathy a quick smile. 

“Alright, I’ll get that stuff right out for you.” Cathy stated as she tucked her order pad into her apron and walked away. Kate waited until she was sure that Cathy was out of ear shot before focusing on Selina again.

“Have you guys heard anything from J since he went on that road trip of his?” Kate asked and Selina shook her head a worried expression flashing across her face before it was replaced with an easy relaxed look. 

“No we haven’t heard anything from him since his last phone call home over two weeks ago. You’re brothers and father are worried but I’m sure he’s doing fine. He's just too busy having fun to worry about contacting us.” Selina told them and the two of them nodded worried looks crossing their faces for a second before they forced smiles on to their faces. Barbara opened her mouth to ask Selina another question but before she could she caught Cathy walking out from the Cafe and over to them. 

“Here you go one chamomile tea with a chocolate scone and a black coffee.” Cathy said as she set down Barbara and Kate’s orders in front of them sending them a small smile. 

“Is there anything else I can get the two of you?” She asked as she looked between Barbara and Kate who both shook their heads. 

“No thanks we’re all set.” Barbara said and Cathy nodded before turning and walking away from the table. 

“So how’s the business going? Have Dad and Tim made any headway on their new project?” Barbara asked and Selina nodded her head around a sip of her coffee. 

“Surprisingly they’ve made quite a bit of headway. As the two of you know Tim was able to find a location for that new building of theirs but he’s also managed to draw up the blueprints of it as well. They’ve even got Roy in to help them on their project and he’s done some research on the area and apparently it used to belong to the government. So how have your new jobs been going?” Selina asked as she set her cup of coffee down on the table and leaned back in her chair watching the two of them. 

“The new job in the morgue has been going well. It's a lot calmer than the GCPD morgue which is honestly nice but if anything it’s weirder than the GCPD morgue.” Barbara told her at which Selina raised her eyebrow at her.

“What do you mean?” 

“Well for starters for a hospital we get more Jane and John Does than I ever got at the morgue and when I asked my boss about it he said that it was a normal occurrence because they have a lot of homeless people who get brought in an alot of the time they don’t give us their names. Then there are the bodies that don’t match up with their actual medical records and every time I ask about it my boss tells me not to worry about it because that’s an upstairs thing.” Barbara explained and Kate nodded her head as she looked over at her. 

“Yeah the same shit happens upstairs with the emergency room people get brought in their records don’t match anything about them and the other nurses disappear for large periods of time randomly throughout the day and if I ask where they went I’m told they go on lunch or they had to go home, and then minutes later there they are working again when they should have gone home. It’s just all so weird and if the pay wasn’t so good I don’t think I would even bother staying.” Kate explained before taking a large sip of her coffee with a disgruntled look on her face. Selina frowned as she looked between the two of them concerning marking the lines of her face as she did so. 

“The nurses there aren’t exactly the most friendly of people to the new guys, at least they're not to me anyways.” Kate added on when she set down her drink. Selina’s face turned sympathetic as she reached out a hand and gave Kate an affectionate squeeze as she did so. 

“I’m sorry Samantha but you know if you ever get tired of working in the emergency room there’s always room in your father’s company for you he could use someone like you when it comes to the advancement of modern medicine, he could use both of you.” Selina told them as she looked over at Barbara giving her a pointed look that she returned with a smile. Giving Kate’s hand one more affectionate squeeze she let go and sat back in her seat. 

Clenching her hand Kate smiled at Selina before she moved her hand off the table and set it in her lap, looking over at Babs out of the corner of her eyes and giving her a small nod. Focusing on Selina again as she sighed and stood up from the table. 

“As fun as this has been Emilia I’m afraid that I at the very least have to get going, my shift at the hospital starts in a couple of hours and I gotta go get ready.” Kate said as she grabbed her purse slinging it over her shoulder as she gave Barbara and Selina a sad look. 

“Alright well, have a good day at work, it was nice seeing you again.” Selina said as she stood up from the table and gave Kate another hug. 

“It was nice seeing you again too. Maria I’ll see you back at the apartment yeah?” Kate said as she pulled away from Selina and looked towards Barbara who nodded her head. 

“Have fun at work.” Barbara said, waving bye to Kate as she did and Kate flashed her a smile before turning and walking away from.

~Back at the Hospital~

Kate smiled as she walked into the hospital a few hours later her work bag slung over her shoulder and her strides purposeful as she walked through the doors of the emergency room. 

“Hey Samantha.” The nurse at the front desk said when she caught sight of Kate. 

“Hey Kim.” Kate offered back as she forced a small friendly smile on to her face and gave a small wave as acknowledgement before scanning her badge and walking through the doors and into the actual ER. 

Casting a quick glance around the locker room as she entered it Kate sighed in relief when she noticed that it was surprisingly empty. Shoving her things into the locker Kate slipped the device that Selina had given her into the pocket of her scrubs before closing her locker and throwing her hair up into a ponytail as she walked out of the locker room. Walking up to the main desk in the ER Kate shoved her hands into her pockets, her fingers brushing against the device as she leaned over the counter. 

“So, what’s on the menu for today Sarah?” Kate asked as her eyes skimmed over the contents on the front desk and then the people rushing around the ER. Besides her Sarah sighed as she rolled back in her seat towards the filing cabinet grabbing a file off the top she rolled back towards the desk and flipped it open. 

“Looks like today is shaping up to be one of the slower days in Gotham so there’s not much to do today other than the usual.” Sarah said as she started typing on the computer while glancing at the file every now and again. Sighing Kate pushed herself off the counter and pulled her hands from her pockets. 

“Alright, where am I starting first?” Kate asked and Sarah looked up at her for a brief second before rolling away from the desk again, grabbing a blue folder off of a pile she rolled back over to Kate handing it to her. 

“Carla Francheska came in this morning victim of a drive by in Crime Alley she’s in critical condition, Dr. Roberts wants you to check on her and make sure she’s still stable. Once that’s done you need to go change 209’s catheter and 210’s bedpan, after that the medical waste needs to be taken out, and the surgery rooms need restocking.” Sarah ordered as Kate took Carla’s file from her. Mentally Kate sighed as she looked over the file, getting the gist of Carla’s situation. 

“Alright, I’ll get started on that.” Kate said as she wandered away from the desk. She needed to do the things that Sarah had listed off first. Flipping the file closed Kate sighed as she closed her eyes for a few brief moments before opening them again and continuing towards Carla’s room. It was going to take longer to do her part of the mission than she originally thought.

Kate huffed out a relieved sigh as she fell back against the wall resisting the temptation to slowly slide down the wall, she had finally finished restocking the operation rooms and even helping out in a couple of the surgeries themselves when no one else could. Reaching up she wiped the sweat from her brow before letting her shoulders slump. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat that Kate even bothered moving and even then it was only to look towards the person who had cleared their throat to see Dr. Jekyll standing a few feet away from her holding a couple of files in his hands. Pushing herself off the wall she straightened out her scrubs as she forced a smile on to her face. 

“Hello Dr. Jekyll I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.” Kate said and he nodded his head, offering her what he probably assumed was a small friendly smile but only served to look slightly pissed. 

“No need to worry my dear, I just wanted to congratulate you on your splendid performance in the operating room today. I've never seen a new nurse handle a situation like what we found ourselves in as well as you did.” He told her, his tone sounding genuinely sincere as he looked at her. Kate’s smile turned genuine for the first time since she had started her undercover work here, and she stood up a little straighter as she smiled at him. 

“Oh, thank you sir, you have no idea how much that means to me.” Kate said and Dr. Jekyll nodded his head. 

“Of course, now I need you to take these files to Dr. Roberts office for me please, I need him to sign off on these files and then I need a second opinion on the top file.” Dr. Jekyll said as he held out the files in his hand for her to take. Internally Kate smiled widely to herself as she took the files from Dr. Jekyll with a smile on her face. 

“Yeah, sure, no problem Dr. Jekyll I’ll get right on that.” She said and he nodded his head.

“Good, once you're done why don’t you go on lunch, you look like you’ve been going since you started.” He mentioned and she nodded her head, widening her eyes just a little to emphasize her point. 

“That’s because I have been a doctor, anyways I’ll get right on this for you.” Kate said and Dr. Jekyll nodded before walking away. She waited until he had rounded the corner before letting a large smile spread across her face and turning and walking in the opposite direction. She loved when things magically worked out for her especially when an excuse is handed directly to her. 

Walking over to Dr. Roberts office Kate hugged the files to her chest and weaved her way in and out of the people that she passed. She stopped in front of Dr. Roberts office hesitating for a few seconds before knocking on his door and pressing her ear against it listening. She knocked again when she didn’t hear anything the first time and when she still didn’t hear anything the second time she tested the handle to find that it wasn’t locked. Pushing the door open she stepped into the office and stood in the doorway for a few seconds, her eyes glancing around the room searching for a hidden camera. When she was satisfied that there weren’t any cameras in the office she walked in, softly kicking the door closed behind her before walking up to his desk. Setting the files down on Dr. Roberts desk Kate pulled the two listening devices out of her pocket and slowly looked around the room again looking for a good place to put the devices. After a few seconds of looking she made her way over to the book shelf that was pressed along the wall next to the desk popping up onto the tip of her toes she pressed one of the devices into the little out cropping where the walls of it met the top of the bookcase. Stepping back she peered up at the top of the book case making sure that it wasn’t noticeable without feeling around before walking back over to his desk. Grabbing one of the files off the desk she dropped it on the floor before crouching down and pressing the second device on to the wires running out of the computer.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” A voice sounded from behind her suddenly causing Kate to jump, bashing the back of her head into the underside of the desk in the process. 

“Fuck.” Kate cursed as she crawled out from underneath the desk, grabbing one of the papers that had fallen out of the file as she went. Sitting back on her knees she looked up at Marge who was standing over her with her arms crossed over her chest and a glare that would stop most people in their tracks. 

“Oh, hey Marge.” Kate gave her a small wave before turning back to grabbing the papers that had fallen out of the file, and shoving them back into the file. 

“I repeat what the hell are you doing in her Smith?” Marge bit out her stance widening and Kate swallowed, pretending to be nervous as she looked up at her again. She had always been told to avoid Marge as much as possible and to never piss her off, and well she was finally learning as to why she had to avoid the head nurse as much as possible. 

“Ah, Dr. Jekyll asked me to bring these files to Dr. Roberts because he needs a few of them signed off and a consultation on another one but he wasn’t here so I decided that I would just put them on his desk but one of them fell off and everything spilled out so I’m cleaning it up.” Kate said as she motioned to the files on the desk and then to the mess on the floor that was only half cleaned up. Marge was silent for a moment as she looked at Kate watching her for any sign of a lie when she didn’t find any she nodded her head once. 

“Right, well hurry up and pick all that stuff up, I need you back in the ER as quickly as possible.” She ordered and Kate nodded hurrying to shove the papers back in the folder all while Marge watched over her. Standing up she set the folder down on the desk again and rushed out of the room, and Marge just stood there watching as Kate hurried out of the room. Once Kate had left she cast a quick glance around the room before nodding once to herself when she didn’t see anything out of place and leaving Dr. Roberts office. 

~The Void~

Your lungs burned and your feet ached with the force that they were slapping against the ground as you pushed yourself to run faster, harder, anything to get away from the things chasing you. Whipping yourself around a corner you slammed into the wall, a grunt escaping you as you barely managed to catch yourself to stop yourself from falling, pushing yourself off the wall you took off running again. Glancing over your shoulder again you watched as the darkness advanced on you the sound of growling and screeching coming from the darkness as clawed hands reached out dragging the darkness forward after you. Looking back forward you raced around another corner stumbling slightly as you tripped over your own feet. Before you could really pick up the speed again you felt a hand wrap around your ankle, sharp claws digging into your skin there and the next thing that you knew you were on the ground again. 

“No! No! Let go of me! Let go!” You screeched as you kicked at the darkness with your other foot. Clawing at the ground you tried to drag yourself away from the darkness as it dragged you backwards the sounds of growling and screeching growing louder as the sound of tearing flesh reached your ears as well. 

“No! Let go! Let go!” You screamed as you felt more hands grab you pulling and tugging at you as you were flipped over onto your back the hands gripping at your clothes and shoulders as the darkness started to swallow up your legs. Shaking your head you twisted and turned, bucking and pulling against the hands dragging you forward. Just as the darkness had reached your knees the lights in the hallway suddenly brightened to the point of blinding but just as suddenly as it had come it was gone. 

Blinking several times you brought your hands up to shield your eyes from the blinding light. It took several minutes for the light to finally subside just enough to for you to see that you where standing in one of the torture rooms only you wheren’t on the rack this time.

“Wh… What’s going on?” You muttered as you lowered your hands, squinting into the lights as you tried to see who was strung up on the rack, fully expecting to see a reflection of yourself after all that was how this usually went. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. A sense of cold washed through you as your eyes widened, your whole body shook as you took a terrified step forward. 

“No. No, Jason, no.” You muttered as you took another step forward only to see the darkness from behind Jason's hands flying out of it wrapping around Jason’s beaten and battered body, pulling him closer despite the chains holding him up. 

“No! NO! JASON!” Your voice cracked as you raced forward straight into the darkness. When the darkness cleared you were no longer trying to save Jason from the darkness, you were now the one strung up on the rack. 

Your heart jumped into your throat as your hands wrapped around the chains and your breath came in short quick bursts, your knuckles turned white. No, no, no, this isn’t good, this isn’t good, you weren’t supposed to be here, you hadn’t done anything wrong, you weren’t supposed to be here, what had happened to you? What did you do? You could feel your heart beating against your rib cage as your whole body began to shake and your eyes frantically jumping around the room searching for anyone else. When the door opened your heart stopped when you saw who was walking through it. 

“Jason?” You asked as you watched him walk towards you, picking up a whip as he went. Your blood ran cold as he smiled maliciously at you, his hand stretching out the whip as his eyes traveled up and down the length of your body.

“Where to start, where to start.” Jason muttered but it wasn’t with his voice and through your confusion your brow furrowed just the tiniest bits. He sounded like Dr. Roberts and you weren’t sure what terrified you more the whip in his hands or his voice. 

“Oh I know, how about right here?” He asked as he reached out with the handle of the whip tracing a line from your shoulder down across your chest. Shaking your head you tried to push yourself back away from Jason as he raised the whip in the air. 

“No, no, no, Jason no, please, Jason don’t. Jason don’t! Jason DON’T PLEASE DON’T!” You begged him as he brought the whip down causing you to scream in pain as he brought the whip up again and then down again on your other shoulder creating an X across your chest. 

“No! NO! NO! Jason please! Please! Stop! PLEASE!” You screamed as he continued to whip you. 

~Jason’s P.O.V~

Jason jolted out of the light sleep that he had fallen into his hand tightening around yours as he sat up straight his eyes jumping around the room searching for a threat only to find nothing, not even a guard standing outside the door. Turning his attention back to you he watched in shock as you moved for the first time in literal days. He watched as you twitched and jerked slightly, your face contorting into one of confusion and then pain as a weak sounding whimper escaped your throat. Jason felt his heart break as he watched you and he climbed on to his knees reaching out he grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N) wake up, come on wake up it’s just a dream, wake up.” Jason murmured as he shook you lightly trying to get you to wake up. When that didn’t work he stared at you for a few seconds trying to think of another way to wake you up but he didn’t want to hurt you yet it killed him to see you in such pain and not be able to do anything. Sighing he climbed up to his feet before sitting on the edge of you bed, carefully he shifted around picking you up he set your head on his lap. Running his hands through your hair he whispered calming words trying to comfort you as best he could. It took a good several minutes before you finally calmed down you expression turning peaceful once again as your body went lax in his arms and your breathing evened.

[adonis-koo]

Lust • pjm

↳ Summary: The village of Incúrsio has always said to be plagued by a demon, to keep its evil at bay they must sacrifice a young virgin to its hunger every year. You assumed that was a certain death, by what means? You didn’t know. Becoming the the mate of the Prince of Hell to keep his brother away from you? That was never apart of the folktale.

↳ Genre: demon!au, supernatural, smut, strangers to lovers

↳ Word Count: 11k

↳ Pairing: Jimin/Reader

↳ Tags: MC is thirsty as hell, thigh riding, multiple orgasms and I mean a LOT, eating out, overstimulation, virginal sex, mutual masturbation, sub/dom overtones, finger fucking, creamiepie, unprotected sex, jimin has a big dong

Last installment

Note: Second installment to Halloween!verse !! I this is technically edited but I’m probably still gonna go back and tweak a few things, just a heads up. You don’t have to read the last installment for this series but there is a loosely followed plot :)

Incúrsio was right in the middle of the most used trading route in the whole realm. You’d often met people from many walks of life and there was never a dull day with so much life flooding your village. Incúrsio however, did come with its faults. And now laying in bed sleepless over the past twelve hours, you briefly wondered if those faults were even justifiable.

You see, Incúrsio, was home to the demons curse. An old folktale in your opinion to scare children. Your village, however, took the curse as serious as they came which opened the door to the ceremony held each year to pick the unfortunate virgin girl who’d be used as the Offering.

The virgin girl, had become you.

You believed in a lot of things. But demons were not one of them. At least not until today. Not until you were chosen from the bowl of many names, what would happen to you? You had grown up your whole life watching them drag girls kicking and screaming into the woods only to disappear and never be seen again. Would they just kill you right there?

Thoughts rolled throughout your head as you stared at the ceiling, the wood had begun rotting last year and you were surprised by the last bad storm that had rolled through the village hadn’t caused the roof to cave in on you. Maybe it would right now, you’d prefer it over whatever fate laid ahead.

The door to your room opened wide causing the early morning light to stream inside as your caretaker Grelda opened the door. Twenty two years all to be thrown away on one single piece of note with your name written down. Anger flooded your veins but your mind was numb as you wordlessly rose to your feet as followed her down the small crooked hall.

Most mornings were spent through banter while helping her make breakfast, she had been so kind to take you in when you were nothing but a small helpless child, you filled one another's lives with joy. And yet it was all absent today, the last you’d ever spend together.

Grelda had prepared you a bath, it was the first time all year you had sat down in warm water and she had even helped clean your hair. It was all in name of the celebration of the demon not destroying your village another year. The village would even throw a whole celebration that night after your death. You knew because you had always gone in previous years.

Only now did you realize just how sickening it was.

Your hair had been scrubbed near clean and the dirt from under your nails had been picked, the skin you had long since was used to have a layer of dirt covering it was polished like fine china and standing still in the dainty long white dress. The one you swore you’d wear on your wedding day- you felt as if you didn’t even know who you were any longer.

Hearing the loud knock wrap against the old unsteady door of the entrance made your heart drop into your stomach, it was time.

Grelda quickly finished the long braid in your hair before leading you to the door, stopping in front of it only to turn around and pull you into a tight hug, “I love you, my child, no matter what,” Your eyes were already stinging at the choke in her voice, her own quiet anger quivering before forcing it back, to stay strong for the both of you, “You will be okay.” She pulled away and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead as a louder, more demanding knock rapped once more.

You could only muster a single nod as your eyes threatened to water before glancing down at your feet.

Grelda quickly opened the door to reveal the head townsmen and a few other volunteers stood stoically, as if anticipating you’d put up a fight as most girls did in the last few minutes of their life. Being sleep deprived and emotionally exhausted from your long night, some hours spent in rage while others spent in tears. You couldn’t muster anymore emotion as you stepped forward. Letting them clasp your upperarms tightly, a man on either side of you as you began to walk forwards.

Incúrsio really was a quaint place, most wouldn’t suspect it of being under such a horrid curse. The fog in the early morning gave it a haunted but enchanted feeling and a single candle stood outside of everyone’s homes, a silent mourning of the one who would be lost today. Your eyes set on the road ahead where you noticed guards were on rotation.

They must’ve arrived last night from the Kingdom up north. The Jeon Dynasty had always been too kind for their own good and you felt a brief surprise fill your face at the sight of them. Hysteria had been setting in with the Offering so close and talk of the town was the Blood Moon pack had been spotted scouting your village not too long ago.

Werewolves, were a fickle kind and often temperamental by nature but the Jeons had just signed a peace treaty with them. Surely they wouldn’t break it, right? Regardless and for whatever reason they had went ahead and sent guards anyways.

Biting against your lip you could only wonder what went through the royals heads.

You were quickly forced from your thoughts as the townsmen suddenly yanked you along forcing you to stumble slightly while attempting to keep in line with their steps into the woods where every other girl before you had also went.

Would they kill you now? Or would they just leave you lost in the woods for a blood starved vampire to find? Or a crazed werewolf to eat? Anxiety began to spike through your mind and briefly, it felt as if your life had flashed before your eyes as you began to approach the odditie ahead.

It looked like a pegan altar of sorts, the stone head like a gateway to nothing and the large black burnt circle free of any tree’s sat at it’s entrance, oh my god you were going to be literally sacrificed weren’t you? Your breath had become hitched and unsteady as you passed through the stone hedge and stood in the middle of the circle, the head townsmen forced you to kneel and then silence set in.

One second went by, then another. And another. What was supposed to happen? You could tell this was an unusual sight as the volunteers began to fidget from side to side their eyes darting to one another and you could see the hysteria getting to them as well. Swallowing you forced your eyes shut once more as your exhale came out shaky and timid.

Another minute had to become five eventually and just when you thought perhaps you'd be spared over this year one of the volunteers finally spoke, “This- This isn’t normal! Let’s just kill her and go! The demon can still feed on her afterwards!”

His words was the only spark needed to cause everyone to snap in anxiety as they began to fight among themselves. Someone determined to keep you alive while others agreeing with him and wanting you dead. Before you could blink blood had been spilled and the hysteria was becoming thick and crazed before a sharp knife was suddenly being hurdled at you in the hands of a volunteer.

You scrambled back onto your bottom before harshly closing your eyes with a whimper as defeated tears finally slid down your face. You waited for the sharp, burning puncture to set in only to timidly open your eyes from the odd silence. A tall, dark figure stood in front of you undisturbed and regal before humming, “That won’t be necessary.”

Your lips had parted as you breathlessly gaped at the figure of a human until he turned around. Dark magenta eyes like you had never seen before, too dark to be a vampire and too pink to be a werewolf. A large, almost demented smirk coiled on his lips wrapping you in a spill of darkness making your head light and your body weak as the void filled around you both leaving everyone behind.

“Don’t worry,” He leaned down, grabbing your chin, “You’re safe now darling.”

Your head was light, and briefly you wondered if the hysteria got to you as well. Your vision was beginning to spot and before you could even speak your body finally collapsed.

Groaning your body felt weak and briefly you could feel a bead of sweat trickle down your forehead, god you were so hot. Did you have a fever? Your mind was hazy and had a dull ache as you forced your eyes open, anticipating the old rotting ceiling of your bedroom.

Instead your eyes were met with a the black silk canopy and the plush bed beneath you sunk against your body brought it’s ache a small relief.

Had you the energy you would’ve shot out of the bed with a scream at where the hell were you.

But your movement was sluggish and forced you to lay there, still and in a dazed wonder, “You’re awake,” His voice was like silk, soft as an angel but the magenta eyes were anything but, “Don’t try to move,” He turned to face you, his face slim and cheekbones chiseled and high, the odd silver hair making him look ironically angelic, “You’re body is still in shock from traversing the first time.”

Closing your eyes you swallowed thickly, trying to keep the whimper from escaping your lips before forcing your timid voice to rasp, “Aren’t you going to kill me? Rape me? You’re a demon.” He was in the perfect position to do as such, you weren’t even sure you could muster a scream right now, your body was so dull and it was difficult to even wiggle your fingers.

His lips curled slightly in amusement as he walked to the bedside, pulling out the chair from his desk as he sat down, “Even demons aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be,” He clacked his tongue, a playful myrth in his eyes as he continued, a little more serious, “A demon must have consent, without it we’ll turn to dust.”

“Oh,” You breathed, glancing up at him wearily before back at the silk canopy hanging above you while muttering, “So you’re going to kill me.” If you had the energy, you’d be interrogating the supposed demon already while wielding a pillow for your defense but instead you just decided to dramatically accept your fate.

He clacked his tongue once more causing your gaze to shift back to him as he replied, “Is it so difficult to assume I’m not going to harm you?”

“...Yes.” You replied after a moment of silence making him chuckle as you frowned, “I was dragged out into the woods and almost killed only to be transported to hell with a demon. Is just killing me too much to ask?” His laugh only continued as he shook his head.

The amused smirk pulling on his lips as he leaned back in his seat, setting his foot against his other knee as he answered, “I’m afraid so darling. I’m in need of a mate, you were getting ready to be killed, it’s all very convenient for the both of us. You’re alive, and now I don’t have to search through the whole realm for a mate.”

Your lips parted and closed several times before your voice rasped in defiance though it only came out cracked and half whispered, “I didn’t agree to that!”

“Yes well…” He shrugged, not looking shocked by your resistance as he continued, “I didn’t agree with that either but here I am. I could always send you off to my brother like originally intended.”

You weren’t sure what that was supposed to mean. But going off any indication of his trailed off words, his brother must’ve not as been such a gentlemen as himself. You huffed, glancing back up to the canopy. When you woke up that morning, you had intended anything but this to happen. But he was right, you were alive and you most definitely would’ve met your untimely fate if it weren’t for him, the last thing you were going to do was pick a fight with the man who had saved your life. Demon or not.

Being his mate? Which in human terms was likened to marriage? Outrageous and you weren’t about to let that happen. But you’d cross that bridge when the time came as he didn’t seem set on genuinely mating you and there was always a chance he was just teasing you, as you quickly found out. For a demon, he seemed awfully light hearted.

“What is your name?” You muttered, glancing up at the soft silk. Was this how the royals slept at night you wondered? You had always tried to imagine falling asleep in such luxury at night only to wake up in the grunge of your bedroom.

But now, if there was anything you could appreciate, it was the aesthetic and pleasure of the room.

“Lust.” Your eyes shot back to his figure in mild panic and horror as his smirk curled into a more seductive one, his eyes brighter than before as he introduced himself before he chuckled, his body relaxing once more making a scowl twitch on your lips at his teasing, “Formally, on the surface I’m simply referred to as Jimin. You may call me as such if it’s more comfortable.”

Jimin laughed once more at the constant twitch of your lips as you fought the scold that continuously tried to twist further onto your face, “Y/n.”

He gave a hum as he plucked your hand up from the bed, your arm felt like a heavy weight but his plump soft lips felt like a caress of clouds against your skin as he kissed the knuckle of your hand, “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Y/n, circumstances aside.” Jimin set your hand down before standing up, “Now get some sleep darling. The effects of the traversing will wear off soon.” Despite your ruffledness you found yourself listening to him as your lashes heavily fluttered closed, you could barely register the blanket being covered over your body as sleep took you once more.

The next time you woke up your head was clear from it’s pain and your body was as light as a feather. The first thing you noticed were the lights of the room had been gone leaving it dark and you wondered if it was supposedly night? You weren’t actually in Hell, right? You had been overdramatic earlier but surely that wasn’t the case. Hell was, well....Hell, endless torture. You established that this definitely was not it as you turned to face the other wall.

Instead you were faced with the sleeping demon, who had stayed respectfully on his side of the bed, but just registering that you were in his room, of course, had you yelping in surprise as you tumbled out of the bed.

Your body instantly throbbing as it hit the ground making you whine out. The bed aboved shifted as you watched him peer above you with furrowed brows and messy hair, expression twisting with amusement as he asked, “Do you enjoy sitting on the floor? You always seem to end up there.”

Anger brittled through your veins as you gave a huffy indignant whine, fumbling as you stood up while stomping your foot, pointing a finger down at him menacingly as he leaned back against his hands, not looking the least bit threatened, “I…! I demand to be let go! I am not staying here!”

Jimin rose his brows before he let a small smirk curl on his face shrugging as he waved his hand, allowing his upper body to collapse against the bed. His silk black sleep shirt only held together by a single button parting to reveal his warm toned skin beneath, “Then leave.” He said it so easily, not even looking as if he truly cared, making you scold further.

Wanting to get a reaction from him, you assumed he’d at least put up a fight or maybe his eyes would go pitch black and his voice would go demonic telling you to never leave the room. Instead the infuriating man looked as if he already won the battle as he dismissively waved a hand to the door.

Stomping your foot once more you huffed before turning around and going for the door, you weren’t going to question his motives and all you needed to figure out was where to find the exit and how to get back home. Maybe the whole village would burn you at the stake for being a witch? Even if you weren’t alive by magic they didn’t know any better and it had been outlawed punishable by death.

But you’d rather take your chances there, then stay here with such an insufferable person.

Opening the door you felt a vague sense of unsurety run through you, the halls were lit in red and darkened by black silhouettes, the large crystal chandelier above head held by black candles that flickered dimly litting the hall as you stepped outside the room hesitantly.

Frowning you gently shut the door as you glanced around, suddenly swallowed by anxiety, you had never seen so much grandiose in your whole life, what was held in these halls? Were there more demons like Jimin.

Surely not all were as nice as him...Groaning you ran a hand through your hair as you tried to muster the courage to just walk down the hall and find the exit. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the door opening not to far down the hall making a gentle whimper escape your lips before fumbling with your own door. Not even realizing what you were doing until you shut it, back into the safety of Jimin’s room.

“That didn’t last long.” He hummed out, eyes still closed with an infuriating smug smile pulling on his lips.

You glared down at his figure with the strong urge to stomp on his pretty throat, you had never met someone so audacious and annoying in your whole life! He sat up finally as he opened his eyes, his smile turning a little more sincere as he raised his brows, “I’ll take you down to the kitchen, I’m sure you’re hungry after everything that’s happened.”

You were demanding to leave and this…! This fiend (literally) was going to act like you hadn't tried to run away and was now going to offer you food!? You were about to snap only to be stopped by the wail of your stomach. You may not have been interested in a late night snack, but your stomach most definitely was.

You could feel the blush began to creep it’s way onto your cheeks as your lips angrily frowned while Jimin laughed, standing up as he walked towards you. Grabbing your hands as he opened the door, “You humans are too cute.”

“I…!” Your nose wrinkled in anger, as you harshly glared at his soft hold on your hand. You would fight this man with your bare fists if he’d only put them up against you, “I don’t want to be here!”

Jimin sighed as he paused, turning to look at you as he raised a brow, “You don’t want to get a snack?” He looked as if he was talking to a toddler making your easily flared temper further as he snickered, always teasing it seemed.

The hallway had only turned into more and Jimin must’ve known his way around here well as he weaved so effortlessly through the...this had to be an estate, or maybe a castle? It was so big, “What is this…? You finally asked, your voice soft and curious as you glanced up towards the ceiling that sat so high up it could surely be mistook for an odd evening sky as the black candles flickered.

Opening the two large doors to the kitchen, Jimin glanced back at you as he encouragingly tugged on your hand, “The palace of course, where else?” His words made you stop in your track as your brows furrowed, parting your lips but now words came out.

This time he tugged you inside before shutting the door and allowing you to sit on the bench at the sturdy wooden table, “You’re in the heart of Hell darling. The Dark Lord resides here in the palace as well as his children. There’s six others but none too pleasant I’m afraid.” He pulled out the roll of leftover bread before cutting into it, “You could try to leave if you’d like but I doubt you’d get anywhere. Except perhaps took by one of my brothers,” Jimin’s shoulders stiffened slightly as he curved a brow, a more annoyed smile twitching on his lips as he finished cutting into the loaf, “Which believe me, for as insufferable as I am, my company is better then there’s.”

You frowned, glancing at the table from his words, still not quite registering the severity of them. Perhaps you assumed hell would be more...hellish. Maybe it was, this was the palace, naturally it took on a regal atmosphere but still, “Can’t you just taking me home…? You didn’t have a problem bringing me here.” You murmured quietly, shoulders sinking slightly as you felt a small quiver in your lips.

Jimin sighed, setting the large chunk of bread in front of you as he pulled out a goblet from the counter, pouring you a cup of water as he replied, “I wish it were that easy darling,” He set it beside the bread before taking a seat across from you, “You’re the yearly sacrifice from Incúrsio. Your kin,” He paused, his brows furrowed and a small odd smile pulled on his lips, “Have an odd perception about us cursing your village. That is not the case. Incúrsio, just so happens to be one of Hell’s transversing portals causing demonic energy to run strong. Virgin sacrifices are, vitally useless given there is no demon interest in destroying your village if they don’t ‘repay’ us once a year.”

Your frown furthered as you tilted your head, now curious more then anything at his words, finally you pulled a piece of bread off as you bit into the soft substance, “But the girls...they never returned afterwards. If a sacrifice isn’t needed, then where do they go?”

Jimin sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, face twisting into mild irritation that wasn’t aimed at you, but more his words, “Well it isn’t needed but it’s still gladly took by one of my brothers. Greed is always looking for another girl to add to his collection, his cardinal nature often gets the better of him. He looks at the yearly sacrifices as his. If I were to take you back, Greed would hunt you down without hesitation given you’ve become- in his mind apart of his harem per say.” He finally concluded as he glanced towards you.

You had parted your lips several times and yet you remained speechless, before ultimately deciding to nibble along the edge of the thick crust of the bread you held. So even if Jimin did take you home, you still wouldn’t be free? Dejection casted over your eyes as your shoulders sank slightly. At least you had a stroke of luck to have Jimin intervene with the Offering when he had then. His brother, Greed, didn’t sound the kindest and while Jimin did annoy you it was nothing more than your childishness coming out. He genuinely wasn’t all that bad of a company.

“So this is it then…” You sighed, finally speaking as you met his gaze, “I’m stuck with you?”

Jimin finally gave you a cheeky smile, tossing a wink your way that forced your lips into an unimpressed quirk, “I make great company after so long I can assure you.”

You clacked your tongue as you curved your brow, “Somehow, I doubt that.” And just as before, he only laughed, never seeming to take your sour words serious.

Jimin’s company, really wasn’t terrible. He teased you constantly and you’d sourly stomp your feet at him while complaining. You had spent most of the day in his bedroom though you’d be lying to say you weren’t curious to go out and explore, Jimin had duties to attend to- as apparently being a Prince of Hell held just as many duties as a regular Prince.

You couldn’t imagine how but you often decided to just not think about it. He promised to take you out and let you explore a little bit of the castle once he returned.

And so you waited, fiddling with the white dress you wore as you’d occasionally pace around the room. You’d poke around his bookshelf and attempted to read- except you never learned how. Furthermore the book must’ve been in latin as none of the wording seemed even familiar.

Eventually you had laid back down on the plush, soft bed of black satin and silks combined, you wrapped your arms around the fairly firm pillow as you sighed.

The smell of cedar and a distinct hint of ash mixed together, but often times this had began to bring you a sense of comfort. You almost jumped out of bed at the door to the room being opened Jimin appearing in the entry as he raised his brows, “You haven’t gotten cabin fever already, have you?”

“A little,” You admitted, feeling a bit sheepish at your words as you glanced away from him. Avoiding his cheeky smile as he gestured you over, laughing at your quick steps as you almost pounced over, excited to finally get out of this stuffy room. You had been a fair bit nervous of a tour. It wasn’t every day you were in the palace of Hell after all.

Jimin offered his arm out to you causing you to pause, glancing at it with a little suspicion as he chuckled, watching your childish weary expression before reluctantly hooking your own arm around him. Jimin instantly tugged you outside the door as he gave you a small smile, “It’s really not as intimidating as it sounds. The palace is beautiful and as long as you stay around it’s realms you’ll be fine. Any further and you’ll start stumbling on the souls here.”

He cringed a little at his words as he guided you through the long hall way that had you sheepish the first time you stepped outside of his room.

It still made you a little fidgety, something about it’s low lit red lights and black candles had your stomach churning, perhaps you’d get used to it eventually.

But this was going to take time, you were already beginning to miss the sun and the smell of the grass after it had just rained. What you’d give to see the blue sky above again rather than the black voidless ceiling of the palace. You’d imagine the outside wasn’t much better, you genuinely were in Hell.

It could be worse, you kept repeating those words to yourself. Because it really could be worse, you could be dead for one. Jimin could’ve killed you with the flick of his wrist, or so you imagined. You had never seen a demon obviously, and therefore had no idea what type of power they held. But you still imagined it was a lot, for a Prince of Hell no less.

You had passed by several people, all with disarrayed facial features and gruesome boils and abnormalities, their skin ashen and horns appeared from their head, just the sight of their black soulless eyes had you almost hiding behind Jimin. It only took one look from him for them to sudden scurry back to whatever they were doing. Jimin had referred to them as mere servants, often times taking their true form here when they were not present on the surface of the earth.

Regardless you weren’t sure you’d ever feel comfortable walking without Jimin by your side as he seemed completely stress free, and you supposed it made sense, he was their Prince after all.

All had been fine until you arrived at the throne room. It was vacant but massive and the large fire roared in its place didn’t need tending too as if it was a natural fire spout, or so Jimin had called it. The large chandelier hung over head in all it’s grandiose, the large iron throne standing on it’s own without a chair beside it. Glancing towards Jimin you could only wonder where his mother was, or if he even had a mother. How could a demon be born?

You had parted your lips, intending to ask instantly gaining Jimin’s attention. The large doors of the throne room however, were shoved open and in a fiery blaze all of the low lit candles roared and the fireplace near exploded sending you into a yelp as Jimin’s arms quickly wrapped around you, pulling you closer.

Contrary to Jimin the man that stalked in was tall and his own magenta eyes were bright and glaring down with hells fury and his black hair wild and dusting over his wrathful gaze, forcing a whimper down your throat as Jimin quickly squeezed against you reassuringly, his eyes as cold as ice in contrast as they stared back.

“You disgusting fiend, why don’t you take something that isn’t already claimed.” The man hissed out, the fire all around you burning darkly and the room at been lit up and the temperature had risen.

Jimin’s brows pressed together as he glared back, not phased at the man before as he replied, “I don’t remember your claim on Incúrsio’s sacrifices, Greed you have several mates, your cardinal sin is showing.”

You swallowed thickly, shrinking closer to him as fear overrode your body. So this was Greed? The man who’d hunt you down personally if you were to ever return to a normal life on the surface of earth unmated. You watched his jaw clench and it’s line sharp enough to cut, his eyes burning dark as he sneered, “And this one will become my mate just as the rest, you can’t hide her forever Lust.”

Jimin’s jaw clenched to match his brothers, his grip on you tightening as they stared one another down. The realization on why it was so important for you to stay with Jimin now finally hitting. It didn’t matter where you went, your soul belonged to Greed now and even if you could go back to normal life he’d still bring you back.

His glare harshened and his eyes suddenly glowed in color matching his brothers as he hissed out, “You can’t mate what’s already mine. Now go before you do something you’ll later regret.” Greed only gave a growl but you watched the flames in the room die down a little as he snarled, “Mark my words Lust, you’ll regret this.” He snapped around and walked out the doors leaving the room a few degrees cooler but it wasn’t the air that was making your body shake.

Jimin’s glare didn’t leave the door until Greed was out of sight, finally he seemed to register your shakiness as his grip on you loosened, thumbs soothing rubbing against your skin as he sighed, “Do you understand why it’s important for us to remain together now?” He asked with a hushed murmur, gently pressing a kiss into your hair, “If I could take you back to your old life I would, and I can. But it will only be a matter of time before Greed finds you there.”

It was silent for a minute and you hadn’t even realized how tight you were gripping his black buttoned shirt until you watched the blood drain from your knuckles, “Do...do we have too?” You could barely manage a whisper, your lips quivering at the thought as you tried to unclench your fists.

“As long as you remain unmated even staying in my room is a danger. Being mated to Greed isn’t necessarily bad,” Jimin sighed, as if realizing perhaps you did want to be someone else's, “But there’s a lot of strife between all of his mates and you’re guaranteed to never leave the lodge of his harem.”

His hands sat on your waist before he murmured, “I’d never do that to you, never to my mate. We could roam the earth together and see it’s every corner, you’d be free to go as you wish as long you returned to me. We’ve only just met now, but I need a mate Y/n, and you need one as well if you value your freedom at all.”

Your lips were quivering as you swallowed once more, you weren’t sure what this meant. But in terms of both Vampires and Werewolves a mate, was the equivalent to marriage and it sounded close to the same for a demon as well. The idea had your head spinning but just the memory of Greed’s fury ridden gaze had you quivering in fear, he was right.

If you wanted your freedom, you’d just have to trust Jimin’s words. They were so soft, and he had given a lot of promise in his words. Could he really take you back to earth, would you truly see the sun and the sky once more?

“Then we shouldn’t wait any longer.” You finally murmured, your gaze still downcast and your lips still quivering until you felt his hand cup your cheek, his fingers tracing along your jawline as he murmured soothingly, “Demon mating isn’t the same as other earthly creatures, it’s an intense but doesn’t require sexuality as most do.” He had already started leading you down the hall and by the familiarity of everything you could tell he was taking you back to his room.

You didn’t understand his reason for needing a mate but you wouldn’t deny him when he was your only option. You had just met Greed but you could tell you didn’t want to be his mate, he had several others and you’d be locked away for eternity.

This was your only option now.

Opening the door to the dark room Jimin seemed to lose his imperative rush as he gently closed it, letting you go to walk further into the room. Your body was still stiff and you were nervous, he said sexuality wasn’t required but...just how would this mating be performed?

You paused as you wearily glanced at Jimin, he had brought a black candle out of his dresser before turning to you, “Go ahead and sit down, this won’t take too long,” His voice was soothing as if noticing how quiet you had become, your banter being replaced by stiffness at the serious situation.

You’d be permanently bonded to him after this, you knew you had a choice. But this was clearly the better one, and he wasn’t terrible company...atleast not completely.

Shuffling you sat down on the edge of the bed, your hands folded meekly as you watched him set down black candles on the floor, forming a circle around the bed. Honestly, you felt like you were about to be sacrificed in a cult ritual, maybe this wasn’t far off…

Seeing Jimin pull out the silver plated knife with what appeared to be a latin incantation on it you couldn’t help the anxiety that shot through your whole body. Holy shit, you were definitely about to die. Was he gonna turn you into a demon? You had to swallow your anxiety as you fiddled with your fingers.

Seeing such a curved, wicked knife in his hands had you nervous though he wielded it so delicately, with a snap of his fingers the candles around the bed suddenly flickered with light, the light however matched the candles with a pure black flame that gave the room an odd silvery glow, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” Jimin offered a tiny smile as he kneeled down in front of you, knife still in hand as he continued, “I just need to put a nick in your body so I can place a blood sigal. It’ll just feel like a little pinch.”

“Wh...where are you gonna place it.” You curled slightly in weariness as you kept your gaze steadily on the silver blade that gleamed so beautifully under the lights. You had heard about both vampire and werewolf mating and it all had to do with biting, you supposed it made sense that demon’s would be different but still.

“Anywhere you’d like,” Jimin replied steadily, “Typically most go for the neck as it’s the most common mating mark, but it’s not necessary.” You watched the way his long slim fingers grazed against the edge of the blade, careful to not apply too much pressure or else he’d cut himself.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers unconsciously grazing over your neck before you shook your head. You always had a fear of possibly being drank dry by a vampire, even if you had never knew one well enough before, anything around your neck made you too squeamish.

Hesitantly you held your wrist, feeling a little more comfortable if you’d be able to watch the process take place, “Would my wrist work…?” Your lips quivered slightly and your shoulders sunk as you let your eyes flick away from his gaze.

He took hold of your wrist delicately, stroking over the skin covering your artiary as he nodded, “Perfect,” kneeling down he let the knife graze over your skin, the chill of the metal causing goosebumps to form over your skin as your breath hitched slightly before giving a small whimper at the nick skillfully cut to avoid your artiary. Setting the knife down on the bed Jimin clasped your wrist delicately before glancing up at you, “Just relax, mating is an intense practice but will be easier if you trust me. Okay?” His thumbs gently rubbed against your skin soothingly as you swallowed back another whimper before nodding.

Letting his eyes flutter shut Jimin placed his tongue over the cut, gently lapping up the blood before a bright glow casted over his eyes just as it did earlier when he spoke to his brother, his eyes flicked from you back down at your skin before you yelped, his tongue suddenly burning like fire on your skin as you tried to pull away.

Jimin kept your arm locked in place as he kept his tongue still, tears were beginning to gloss in your eyes and your vision was beginning to spot and darken as your senses became overwhelmed, fire licking at your skin as it felt like it was being melted, “Ow! It-It hurts!” You cried out weakly, the faint smell of ash and cedar filling your scent until you could smell nothing but those two notes.

Jimin said nothing, letting his tongue move gently over the mark, this thumbs rubbing against your skin soothingly as your breathing had become shallow, your vision of the room nearly dark and you couldn’t tell if you were crying anymore, every breath you took was the woody and light, yet smoky smell of cedar and your lungs choked with the burnt smell of ash.

Your senses were beginning to numb and the burn of his tongue was beginning to subside as your body weakly collapsed onto its side as Jimin closed his eyes. Your vision was beginning to go in phases and faintly the glow of his eyes had become red balls of light and you could feel your body beginning to overheat.

An odd wet pool beginning to set between your legs and your hair was beginning to stick to your neck as you let out a soft whine, your body becoming hypersensitive to every lick of his tongue against the soft skin of your wrist.

Opening his eyes he pulled away from your wrist, only letting go of you for a second before a loud whine suddenly escaped your lips, the sudden need for him to be close to taking over your body as you choked out a whimper, “Shhh,” Jimin murmured, gently sitting up on the bed as he pulled you into his chest, “The after effects are what make the process so intense, you take on the demons cardinal sin so it’s going to be a long few hours.”

Your body was burning up and you were rubbing your thighs together, uncomfortable at the stickiness between your legs as he soothingly stroked through your hair.

You couldn’t focus on the soothing gesture though when you sat in his lap, his thick muscular thighs bulging against his thin pants that had arousal soaking through your panties as you let out a breathy whine, “J..Jimin…” You could hardly stay still and your mind was groggy, then encased in his smell and focus was hazy with only one line thought in mind, “Pl-Please…”

“Shhh, that’s just the lust talking. I’m not going to do anything you’ll later regret,” You nearly cried at his gentle words, your body’s need becoming near unbearable, “We’ve become mated without becoming properly acquainted with one another, we have the rest of eternity Y/n.” Those were the words that made soft tears stream down your face as you shifted in his lap to straddle him.

Just the slightest graze of his pants making you jump with a breathy moan, “Please, you- you can’t just do this to me and then make me suffer.” Your hips instantly grinded down over his thigh, your gorged, hypersensitive clit dragging against the material as you moaned once more, pressing your face into his neck almost too overwhelmed by the sensation.

Jimin sighed, his grip on your tightening as if restraining himself before he replied, “You’re so stubborn.” His hands sat on your waist making you jump as you whined, grinding your hips harder on his thigh, a big wet mark forming over his pants as your slick arousal slipped off your folds, an insatiable desire forming in your body.

Noticing he hadn’t stop you your hips quickly beginning ride against his pants with little stifled whines and moans, your fingers tangling in his hair as your clit pressed down, rubbing into the soft fabric as your breath hitched, your body building it’s release at a fast pace that made your head dizzy and vision begin spotting again.

“Are you going to cum so soon?” Jimin murmured against your ear, his voice like honey but darkened a tone making you whine with a nod, his thigh suddenly bouncing against your soaked folds, rubbing into your little nub as you cried out, your release suddenly washing over your body as you cried softly, the wetness of your tears dripping into the crook of his neck as he soothingly rubbed your back, “Is it not enough darling?”

You rapidly shook your head, your hips already wanting to ride against his thigh once more as your hormones spiked once more your body nearly burning in pain at the need for your next release. Jimin suddenly picked you up making you cry out as you struggled to get out of his grip and back on his body as he gave a soft laugh, “Shhh don’t worry darling, I’ll help you just be patient.”

Your mind was hazy at the idea and you were still kicking about as you whined, “You! You made me like this- please!” Your impatience getting the better of you as Jimin sat you down on the bed unbuttoning his shirt, “Undress.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you fumbled with your dress, pulling it over your head and pushing down your panties.

Jimin had let his shirt fall from his shoulders as he rounded the bed, pulling his pants off nearly made your mouth water at the sight of his girthy length.

You had never seen anything so big, his bulbous head was a pretty pink and precum was beading from it’s slit, the slight curve of his cock had your body clenching around nothing as he sat against the headboard, ignoring his massive swollen cock that rested against his chiseled abdomen, hair messy and looking like pure sin, finally with a smirk and glowing eyes he commanded, “Come on little girl, you asked for this.”

Arousal was sliding down your thighs and your body was burning with need as you quickly crawled over, straddling him once more as he caught your hips, “You wanted my thigh that’s what you’ll get.” His eyes were dark and left no room for debate as you whined, settling against the warm skin of his thigh, your wetness dripping down against him as he let a crooked smirk pull on his lips, “You’re making such a big mess on my thigh doesn’t that little clit need relief?” He cooed out making your hips instantly buck against is thigh, your sticky wet pussy parting against his skin as your nub rubbed down making you moan.

Your body already hypersensitive but your mind was clouded by insatiable pleasure as you continued rocking your hips into his thigh. Jimin’s eyes stayed on your body as he licked his plump lips, finally he grabbed his fat cock as he began to stroke it making you whine, “Mmh! Please! Let me ride it! Please- please Jimin- please!” He said nothing in return but the sadistic smirk twisted on his lips, enjoying you suffer as you continued riding his thigh.

Your gorged, sensitive clit continuously rubbing in just the right spot that had your body stiffening and your words babbled and moaned as your next orgasm quickly spiked through your whole body, your hips tremored and a whine escaped your lips as Jimin kept a steady pace on his cock.

As soon as the euphoric feeling passed your body you were already wanting another, your body burning harshly and fresh arousal dripping from your folds and your inner thighs nearly coated, your cheeks were red in embarrassment as Jimin laughed at the sight, letting go of his members before grabbing your thighs. Forcing your back to hit the bed as he pulled your thighs over his shoulders, “So needy, you really are the mate of Lust huh.” His eyes were so pretty, glowing in the dark of the room in that intense color of magenta, his tongue dragged against your thigh, licking up your arousal as you whined, hips quickly lifting towards him as he forced them in place.

His tongue was hot and his own wetness mixed with yours as he sucked up all of the stray arousal on your thighs, licking his lips as he glanced down at you, his face truly that of angel with such a wicked smirk on his lips, you felt like nothing but prey under his gaze, your eyes lidded and timid as you shifted against his shoulders, “Watch.” Jimin commanded as he let his tongue place at the entrance between your slit making you cry out at the odd sensation, his tongue swirling and delicately pressing against your little hole teasing it as you obediently watched.

Your face burning brighter with each moment as he held your gaze so confidently, his tongue dragging up your wet folds before swiping across your sensitive clit making you throw your head back with another small whine. His hands suddenly gripped your ass tightly as he growled, “I said watch, don’t disobey me.” Whimpering you glanced back up, your cheeks on fire as he ate you alive, tongue lapping up your clit as you left out a breathy moan, trying to keep yourself from collapsing your head back against the bed, “Mmm! Feels so good- please! Please Jimin-”

Your hips rocked against his tongue that he stretched past his lips, letting your hips take over as his tongue flattened over your hypersensitive nub, crying out at the pain of your sensitivity, pleasure continued to wave through your body as you let out another moan.

With one more flick against your sweet spot your toes curled at the orgasm washing through your body, letting out a sob at the pain that washed with it, your head becoming dizzy from the pleasure but Jimin ignored your whimper as he coated his fingers along your folds, “Such a pretty girl,” You whined, squeezing your thighs as you watched his middle finger push inside you.

You had been told a first time was painful and yet you could hardly even feel his finger slide inside as he pushed another snug in your walls, “So wet for me, I could just fit my whole cock in this little hole without any preparation couldn’t I?” The effects of his cardinal sin over your body could probably let him do it with zero trouble, your walls clenched immediately at the thought, squeezing around his fingers making him chuckle, “Lust looks so good on you darling.”

Jimin pushed a third finger inside you before he began to drag them into the spongy little spot that had you crying out, head finally dropping against the bed and your back arching as your body rapidly clenched around him, “F-fuck please! Please!” Your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure if your pleas were for him to stop or to keep going, your body was demanding another fill of pleasure though as your hips obediently rocked in sync with the fingers he pumped into you with such ease.

“My little mate, so needy.” Jimin let his tongue flatten back over your clit making you let out a near scream at the electric shock of pleasure he provided, fingers nearly digging into your g-spot as your little walls rapidly clenched and relaxed around him, his tongue dripping spit mixing with your wetness as he lapped over your abused clit.

The lewd sounds spilled throughout the whole room, your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as the loud relieved moan escaped your lips, a loud squelch of your body clenching roughly around him fingers as the next orgasm washed over your body.

Your hips nearly spazzed as he kept going, your thighs shaking like leaves as he ruthlessly glanced down at you, tongue still rubbing over your clit making tears fall down your face as you cried, the pleasure your body craved so intensely nearly overwhelming you. You were unable to do anything but take what was being given to you as he took your little clit into his mouth, his fingers slowing down as they pumped inside of you, lewd squelching sounding through the room with every thrust of his fingers inside you.

Your voice was rasped but moans wouldn’t stop flooding your lips as the raw feeling of your gorged nub being ate alive and Jimin continuously prodded his fingers against the soft spongy spot against your walls enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes, “Go on, cum again I know you want too.” Jimin instantly attached his lips back to your clit as you cried out the orgasm that had quickly built up obediently released on his command as you sobbed gently your body still hot and aroused as he pulled his fingers out of you, delicately setting your thighs back down.

Your lower body was completely shaking and yet fresh arousal was already beginning to slide down your legs against the bed making you choke out a quiet sob, you were so aroused and yet unsure if your body could even handle anymore. Jimin gently shushed you as he wiped your tears away, “It’ll be over soon darling, do you need my cock?” You couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you nodded, he cooed once more wiping your tears before pressing a kiss against your forehead, “It’s okay my love, I’ll take good care of you.”

Your hips ached dully as he spread your thighs, the cool air of the room hitting your wet slick folds once more as you let out a breathy whimper, the intense hormones washing over you again as Jimin grabbed ahold of his cock pumping it slowly before letting it’s curve fit against your folds, dragging over your clit as he coated himself in your wetness.

Bucking your hips you let out a raspy moan as repeated the motion again, letting his fat girth drag over your gorged bud once more, “You like that sweetheart?” Jimin purred out, his own eyes lidded with pleasure as he dragged his length back down your folds, grabbing ahold of his bulbous head as he circled it over your clit making you mew out as your back arched, “Please! Please Jimin!” You whined making him lick his lips as he guided his head to your entrance.

Carefully he pushed his head in making you tense up for a moment, the horrid first time you had always heard about wasn’t anything you had anticipated. Your cunt was practically split open by his large head and yet all you felt was a mild discomfort, wetness dripping from your stretched hole as he stroked your hips, “Does it hurt?”

“N-no,” You shook your head with a rasp, needily bucking your hips to get him to push further in, “Just- uncomfortable, a little weird?” You fumbled with your words, your cheeks bright red but he only laughed, for a breath moment he looked endeared at his new mates innocence.

Slowly he eased his cock inside you making you both string out moans, pausing as he let his whole cock sit and stretch inside you, your warm velvety walls tight around him as he purred, lips pressing into your neck, “You feel so good sweetheart, so tight and pure just for me to taint.”

Letting out a small whimper your walls clenched around him, legs quickly wrapping around his waist and his words ignited your horniness once more as you tried to bounce your hips against his, “Don’t tease me! Jimin please start moving…!” You whimpered, cheeks becoming hot again and your body craving another release despite it’s hypersensitivity.

On command Jimin quickly began thrusting, his cock stretching your small walls perfectly, shaft rubbing into that soft spot that had you moaning, back arching and eyes fluttering shut, “You’re just too easy to tease though darling,” He leaned down, hips rolling fluidly and the wet sounds your body made filled the room as he dragged his tongue over your neck, “God you feel so good around my cock.”

Feeling his fingers drag down your body back to your clit forced a cry from your lips, walls clenching around him causing a loud embarrassing wet squelch that had him moaning.

Pleasure was thrumming through your body once more as you breathed out cracked moans, his cock throbbing inside you, hitting into your g-spot with every stroke, fingers deftly rubbing over your swollen abused bud as your body twisted and withered, moaning with a cry as you felt your eyes water up, “One more time kitten,” Jimin nipped at your neck encouragingly, “I know you can do it.”

It was all you needed before you let out a loud cry, moaning with it as your body became wrecked with pleasure, you could barely even notice Jimin throwing his head back with a moan at the way your walls tightened around him, eyes burning magenta as he let his cock cream deep inside you, his release nestling inside you and with it the burning of your body began to cool down, suddenly whimpering at the slightest of touch against your skin.

Jimin pulled him softening members from you as he peppered your neck in kisses, “You did so well darling.”

With each little kiss came a stifled whine from you, the full effect of how sensitive your body was beginning to wash over you, Jimin had fully drained the life force from your body and you hadn’t realized how tired you had become until your eyes closed, letting your consciousness take you at the sound of the praise Jimin gave.

Your body was in pain, your hips were stiff even just laying down and the ache between your legs had you wincing as soon as you opened your eyes, you were without a doubt sore from what had taken place. Your face felt hot at the memory and your mind was throbbing in a dull headache as you groaned, shifting a little at the feeling of the warm body tucked against you.

It was then that you noticed the hand that was stroking your hair with a delicate hum, shifting slightly you winced once more before glancing up at Jimin’s wrecked appearance, his neatly styled hair had been wild and ridden with oil, still just as naked as you were though he didn’t appear to care, “Are you okay?” He gave a small smile, tenderly let his hand run down your back as rested your head back against his chest, listening to quiet beat of his heart, “A demons mating ritual can be very taxing for humans.”

“Everything hurts,” You answered dully, making him give a small laugh, hand still comfortingly running down your body. You couldn’t help but wonder as silence took over the room, why did he need a mate? Remembering his words when you first woke up in this bed made you shifted a little before softly speaking up, “Jimin.”

“Hm?” He hummed out, releasing you from his hold as you struggled to sit up, glancing down at his laid out figure as he raised his brows.

You fidgetted a little, feeling an air of self consciousness you didn’t have before under his cardinal sin at the feeling of your nipples perked, crossing your arms shyly to hide yourself you looked away, “Why did you need a mate?”

It was a valid question you had never thought of until this moment, but since you had met, Jimin made it clear this wasn’t out of pity for you or for some sort of twisted goal, he simply needed a mate though you had never asked and he never offered.

Jimin shifted slightly before sitting up as well, letting his back rest against the headboard as he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he answered, “If a demon isn’t mated before their thousand year mark their cardinal sin becomes amplified to the point of no return. I’d be like a starved incubai for the rest of my life, never sated and constantly rutting into someone or something. It could be worse but my time was running out, I have too many important responsibilities both in Hell and on the surface to let my cardinal sin run me. It just worked out that you were in need of a mate as well.”

It became quiet once more as you shifted against the soft mattress, you supposed it made sense, becoming unsated for the rest of your life did sound miserable and with the way he put it, it sounded as if he’d constantly be in a rut, even if this was an unlikely duo.

You’d make it work, Jimin wasn’t bad company and at the very least you could’ve ended up locked away in Hell for eternity mated to Greed or worse, you could be dead.

Jimin reached out, letting his hand brushed the hair over your shoulder, his touch warm and soft making you shudder slightly at the cold nip of the room, unable to resist you could feel a warm bond in your chest tightening as you felt the urge to coil in closer, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re a lovely mate.” Jimin teases lightly, making your cheeks dust pink as he tugged against your arm.

Without any protest you scooted closer to him, allowing his arms to wrap around you as he set his chin again your shoulder.

You felt weird at this new sensation, aware that it was your mating bond but still odd nonetheless on how innate being close to him at suddenly became, “I don’t have a problem with your reasoning, mine wasn’t any better,” You replied dryly before shrugging a little, ignoring the ache that continued to remind you of the event that had taken place earlier, “I was just curious why it was necessary for you.”

Jimin pressed a kiss into your hair, the odd light bond in your chest thrumming happily as you curled into him closer, “Well you have an answer, I just wish we could’ve had more time to properly form a bond before hand and I could explain what would take place. I’m sure taking on my cardinal sin wasn’t pleasant.”

He soothingly let his hand run down to your thigh, the pads of his fingers brushing over the skin delicately, “But at least down we can properly become acquainted without any looming threats, we can even visit your family on the surface as soon as you can properly walk.”

You slapped his arm making him chuckle as you glared down at the mattress, your gaze however softened after a moment and your chest stirred as you sighed, “That would be nice…I’m sure my guardian would love to host for a demon.”

Jimin seemed to notice the way you attempted to keep your voice level and upbeat as he let his hand run back up to your hair, petting against your hair before murmuring the question you had been expecting, “Guardian? Has your family passed on?”

“I don’t know.” You murmured with a sigh, the room had become quiet once more and Jimin was patiently waiting for you to continue, it wasn’t a pleasant memory by any means but your bond was almost making you feel obligated to go ahead and share it.

“I was young when it happened,” You explained while leaning against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head down before you felt a soft peck against your hair once more, “I don’t even remember much of any of it anymore. But…” You paused for a moment, pressing your brows together, “We were in a carriage and it had come to an abrupt stop, I don’t remember what my father had said but the next thing I knew the door had opened and I was the first to be pulled out.”

The memory was vague and brought you nothing but grief your whole life ripped away from you in just mere seconds, Jimin soothingly curled his arms around you listening patiently, “They were like a cult, black robes and faces hidden behind hoods, one had some sort of dagger in his hands, I thought he was gonna kill me but they ended up throwing me off to the side. I had to have bruised or broken something because it hurt to breathe and I could hardly stand.”

Sighing you let your fingers trace a pattern against his warm skin before you gave a small shrug, “And then they took them, my parents, kicking and screaming trying to fight. My sister was left in the carriage, she was just a newborn at the time and I tried going back to her, but…” you could feel guilt fester in your stomach as you sighed, “I ended up passing out and next thing I knew I woke up at my guardians house, she had been out along the rode searching for what herbs hadn’t withered from the cold when she found me. We went back just along the road outside of Incúrsio where our carriage was to find her but we were too late,”

You sighed, guilt would be useless now but still even as a small child you couldn’t help but take on that burden, she was your younger sister and you couldn’t even remember her name anymore, “She was gone, I don’t know if they came back for her, or if something…” You shuddered at the thought making Jimin give you a little squeeze.

“Perhaps she’s still out there, your parents could be alive as well.” Jimin offered softly, his thumbs rubbing into your skin soothingly, a mates touch relaxing you unlike you had ever known despite not even truly knowing the man that held you, “In fact, Incúrsio is right along one of the largest trading routes, I’m sure someone found her.”

You heart felt a little more at ease at the idea of your sister out there somewhere, perhaps living a more normal life then you, maybe she was living in the luxury she deserved, you could only pray she was, “I just hope she’s happy, wherever she is.”

Laughing softly Jimin pressed a kiss against your neck, “Well I’m sure she is, and the same could be said for you as well. Maybe we can find her in the future, we only have the rest of eternity together.”

You couldn’t help the smile that curled on your lips as your nose wrinkled at his words, pulling away as you raised your brows, “I can’t believe I really agreed to something so...indefinite.”

Snorting his own laugh Jimin let the smile quirk on his lips as he replied, “But you’ll come to love me anyways, I’m absolutely confident.” He sent you a wink making you roll your eyes, the bond between you both once more thrumming happily.

Perhaps he was right, maybe, just maybe, you would come to love him, regardless of what may come you doubt you’d ever admit it to him, even for the rest of eternity you refused to give him the satisfaction.

“We’ll see Lust, we’ll see.” You clacked your tongue, both smiling at each other and though mating was always done out of love but he sure did make one hell of a great friend too.

[anonniemousefics]

My Dearest Inej | Chapter Two

Chapter Masterlist 

Originally posted on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up

Synopsis: A series of letters kept among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

Chapter Two: Burn Before Reading

My dearest Inej,

I’m trying to respond to your last letter, but I am stuck on the fact that you began it with the greeting, “My Devastation.” Dear Ghezen, woman. Is this what it feels like to blush? I despise it. This must never happen again. This is also the only greeting I will accept from now on.

Changing the subject. If I keep thinking about you calling me that, I will get nothing done at all.

You’ve asked for longer letters, more details about the happenings here. To that I say, why not just stay longer next time? And then you won’t have to settle for reading about it.

But since there’s still one month, two weeks, and three days left until you dock again, I’ll try to entertain you. I write these at the end of the day, and I’m finding it’s a pleasant way to unravel the mess in my mind a little anyway. So, here are three things which occurred this past week:

Rotty accidentally stepped on a cat in an alley and needed twelve stitches afterwards. He’s telling everyone it was a knife fight. It doesn’t matter to me what he tells them. I still get to laugh about it either way.

I think Jesper and Wylan are having an argument. Jesper’s worn the same clothes for three days. I’m oddly preoccupied with whether or not I should say something. Or maybe buy him a drink. Look what you’ve done to me.

I dreamt of you this week. And that is all I’m saying about that. Because, unlike some people, I don’t have a sick fascination with making other people blush. I much prefer screaming and cowering and sniveling. It’s far less cruel.

That is your entertainment for the night. As I am writing this, I’m also examining the blueprints of a certain mercher’s townhome. There’s a strange looking void in the plans that I suspect is a hidden vault. I’m probably not going to sleep until I’ve worked out how to get to it.  

Devastatingly yours,

K. Brekker

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

Inej, darling,

I’m very sorry Jesper’s letter disturbed you. I’m all right. It was just a little arrest and very minor concussion. No, you don’t need to hurry home. I made bail, made all the appropriate bribes – this will all blow over in a month. Well in time for your arrival.

In the meantime, I’m enclosing the blueprints. Maybe you can have a look and tell me how you would have broken in. Be aware -- this one’s a light sleeper and has a very good aim.

Of course I’m resting. Of course.

(in the margins, in Inej’s handwriting:  Lies.)

Yours,

Kaz

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

Inej. Inej Inej Inej.

You’ll be here tomorrow. I wasn’t going to write again until after. But I took Jesper out for the drink like you said. Drinks. Plural. And it’s interacting strangely with the pain pills the medik offered for the concussion. This has not been my smartest evening.  

Inej. I hope someone stops me before I drop this off at the post tomorrow. I feel very much like I’m about to say things I’m going to regret.  

Listen. Between you and me. Wylan has every right to be angry with Jesper. His spending habits are abysmal, and his cleanliness even worse. He’s a grown man who doesn’t even know how to scrub a dish. They had better not ask us to take sides. Who would you pick? I’d have to pick Jesper. That’s strange. Why do I feel like I have to pick Jesper?

This has been illuminating.

You’ll be here tomorrow. Inej. You’ll be here tomorrow. I don't think I'll be able to sleep. This has been the longest three months of my life. I’ve lost count of how often I’ve dreamt of your laugh, your eyes, your hair, your lips. If I could only taste them. I imagine I might even prefer it toffees.  

Tasting your lips, specifically, I mean. I think that was clear. I actually have no interest in eating your hair. Gods, I'm drunk.

You’ll be here tomorrow, Inej. And now I’m going to be hungover like an ass. I’m sorry. Hopefully I’ll have the decency to say sorry to your face. You have the most lovely face.

Perhaps I will put this in the post, just in case tomorrow’s hangover ruins everything. A preemptive apology can’t hurt.

With every regret and with all of my heart,

I remain yours,

K. Rietveld

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

(in an envelope marked: “OPEN FIRST”)

My dearest Inej,

I must respectfully and urgently request that you only read this letter when you pick up your mail in Os Kervo. In my haste, I accidentally included sensitive information in the letter postmarked the day before this one, and it is a danger to us all. Burn before reading. Seriously.

Sincerely,

K. Brekker

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

My dearest, brilliant Inej,

Thank you for burning the letter as per my last request. No, I’d rather not even allude to its contents. It is a relief to know it’s gone.  

Was it just me or did this last Ketterdam trip of yours go better than the previous? I hope you felt that way. For me, I’m thrilled enough to have held your hand. I can still feel the memory of you resting against my shoulder. You seemed happy. I have wanted that for you for so long.

We’re going to try your suggestions on the vault this time, later in the week. I find myself less motivated in the initial days after you depart. I imagine that’s not something you feel, and I understand. The water calls for you in ways it doesn’t call to me. We can’t all be seafarers.

This letter has been a little drearier, I’m realizing. Maybe it’s the rain. Maybe it’s my head. Maybe it’s because I miss you. An excessive supply of Ravkan toffees can only cure so much.  

I’ll make sure the next one's cheerier. This is all for now.  

Yours,

Kaz

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

Inej,

Well. Thanks for coming clean about the letter at least. I hope you’re happy with yourself.

What if there’d actually been something dangerous in it? What then?  

Who knows why I decided to sign it with that name. I was drunk and concussed and strung out on pain relievers. It wasn’t meant to be read.  

But go on -- enjoy the laugh at my expense.  

Honestly, I expected a little more consideration from you.

Kaz

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

(no envelope, unsent)

My most cherished Devastation,  

I am not laughing. I didn’t laugh at the letter at all. It was never my intent to humiliate you. You have to know that I loved every word of it. It was like opening a plain box and finding a gem. You are rarely so free with your words and your feelings. If I could kiss the medik who intoxicated you, I would.

I’m keeping the letter. I’m savoring every word. Even the part about not eating my hair, which, while an unnecessary clarification, I do appreciate the effort to communicate. I’m dreaming of kissing and holding you, too. You have nothing to be ashamed of.

Although, let’s not tell Wylan what you wrote. Your secret is safe with me. Your secrets are always safe with me.

You are my sweetest devastation, Kaz Rietveld. Please don’t be angry.

Yours,

Inej

P.S. – If you were hungover that day like you feared, you hid it alarmingly well. Or perhaps your usual grumpy demeanor lends itself well to masking hangovers. That’s not to say you were an ass. You were perfect. You were charming. I’m really bungling this. You were Kaz, and you were exactly as I needed you. Does that make sense? No, it doesn’t. I think I need to throw this out and try again.

(scribbled in the margins, roughly translated from Suli)

“BURN BEFORE READING”? DO YOU TRUST ME AT ALL?!

INEJ, YOU MASSIVE LOON

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

Inej, bravest and most daring of all Inejs,  

I can’t stay angry with you. Disregard the last letter. Do what you want with the ridiculous one. Let’s blame all of this on the damn mercher who hit me in the head. None of this would have happened if he could have just been decent and let me rob him.  

When are you coming home again?

Yours,

Kaz

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

My dearest Devastation,  

We are docking in Ketterdam next week. I’d rather not completely disregard the letter in question. Let’s speak of it in person then. Do you think you can do that?

And before you say no, I’m bringing toffees to sweeten the deal. So, consider carefully.  

Affectionately yours,

Inej

[wwwafflewrites]

Never Fear (The Winchesters Are Here)

Six Feet Under

You woke up to a deep ache in your shoulders. It was sore all the way down your back. Probably bruised to hell.

You grunted, and your breath fanned back onto your face. You attempted to move, despite your smarting back, and your hands brushed against loose dirt and flaky wood. You tried to adjust your eyes, but there was nothing to see. Just… black. Wherever you were, it was a narrow space. A dirty narrow space.

Was it time to mention you were also slightly claustrophobic?

You were sweating. The air was stuffy. But there was something cold right next to you. Something cold and yielding. You reached for it, blindly patting with your hand flat out, until your fingers curled around something with contour.

You mapped out the dimensions of the object before recoiling in horror. That was no object—that… that was a body. 

Which, with your odds, meant you were in a coffin. An oddly large, though still cramped, coffin. Underground. With no way out but through the suffocating dirt.

Freaking ghouls.

Your first instinct was to scream. To pound up against the wood and holler until your throat was raw. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t, either; it was that you couldn’t. 

You couldn’t breathe.

There was something in your chest right now. There had to be. A void where your lungs had been, like a vacuum that swallowed up all the usable air. Your heart was in your throat.

Were you running out of oxygen? Was it already too late? Your shallow breaths were burning a hole in your chest. You couldn’t breathe.

You reached over to the corpse, this time with urgency. Cold but still flaccid. The body had been fresh for about an hour, then. Rigor mortis hadn’t even begun.

Does it matter? a part of your mind reasoned. It sounded a little like Dean. There’s a cold, dead body next to you, you’re on your last round of air, and you still can’t stop being a nerd?

"It matters," you muttered to yourself. "Matters ‘cause that means I’ve been stuck down here for about an hour. Takes about five hours total to run short on oxygen. Means at the very least, I’m not dying… yet."

As hard as a transition was going to be, you needed to breathe deep and slow. But there was still a tightness in your chest.

Relax your shoulders, you could almost hear Sam chiding.

"A little… difficult to do… suffocating in a pine box," you said, but you relaxed them anyway. You then took in your first, full breath since you woke up. That was progress.

You couldn’t count on the Winchesters finding you in time, or at all. You were going to have to take matters into your own hands and try to climb out of the grave. Dean had done it before, so you could too.

Dean’s also, like, 200 pounds of muscle, Sam cautioned.

If you were going to climb out of your grave, you needed a mask to protect your face from the dirt. Which meant you were going to need to work your shirt off of your head. You brushed your hand over your stomach. Well, you must have put up a fight. Your shirt was shredded, so… that was a no go.

The dead guy had a shirt, Dean said.

Fantastic.

You looked over to your left, to the corpse you couldn’t see. You reached over, awkwardly pulling the shirt up. Its cool skin grazed yours as you worked the fabric over its head. 

The neck didn't jerk about; it was rigid, but the arms weren't. Rigor mortis was kicking into gear. Which meant you had been down here for roughly two hours. Working as a hunter, you needed to have some level of knowledge on the dead.

Such a nerd, you could see Dean rolling his eyes.

You tied the bottom of the shirt which took a little while with your arms pinned down and the pitch darkness to guide you. Finally, though, you made a tight knot.

You pulled the shirt over your head like a bag and sat there for a moment. You wished the Winchesters could talk you through this.

That's when you broke at the pine box. The dirt was cold, dry, and thankfully loose. It fell in clumps around your shoulders, and you shoved it down at your feet.

Climbing your way past the dirt was no joke. It was grimy and freaking difficult. It was like those foam pits that gymnasts use that are nearly impossible to work your way out of, except in complete darkness with limited space. In other words, a freaking nightmare.

But you kept working. Kept pushing up while pushing the dirt down. Six feet, Sam reminded you. Just six feet. Once you’re standing, just work upward. Should be about as tall as I am, yeah?

You made a risky move upward, throwing your hand up as far as it could go, and touched air. A light breeze fell over your skin.

To say it was encouragement was an exaggeration. You worked twice as hard, shoving your way to the top. When your hand felt hard dirt, you crunched your abs and pulled until your chest hit the surface. You frantically dug your legs out before collapsing on the ground.

You went into a fit of hysterical laughter, a result of your adrenaline high and the last throes of your panic.You threw the filthy t-shirt off of your head, inhaling the air that you had once taken for granted.

In your brief delirium, you recalled Dean Winchester retelling his old raising-from-perdition story. He had hardly mentioned climbing out of his grave, as if it hadn't been important. His focus had mainly been on the mystery of the angels and how they turned out to be douches. He had made this part sound like a. Slice. Of. Pie.

And, well, you got a freaking reality check today. Because it was an entire body workout, and it was exactly as terrifying as it sounded—no, worse. Waking up in pitch darkness, in a small space, with a corpse, six feet under the ground? Hell naw. You were lucky you'd had enough trauma to know how to push back your panic. Because two years ago, you probably would have rotted down there, helpless.

It left you to wonder, though. Why the ghouls left you alive, and not the dead guy. All the other grave desecrations had been long dead—but you were the first to live.

First, you were going to have to get back to the motel. You already knew the boys were gonna freak.

///

When you opened up the hotel door, the Winchesters sprang out of their chairs, barking your name in surprise. "You're—you're…" Sam stammered as he took in your state. You couldn't blame him; the grave had covered you in dirt from neck to toe.

"Alive. I know," you said. "I'm also really dirty. You mind if I use your guys' shower?"

Sam blinked. "No, not at all, but uh, seriously—what happened?"

You let out a halfhearted, breathy laugh. "Nothing I couldn't handle." You tried to shrug past Dean, but he caught your arm.

"You were gone for three hours," he said.

"Look, we're just worried about you. Could you humor us?" Sam added. His eyes were pleading and damn hard to say no to.

You scowled. "You two gotta tell me what happened on your end first. Deal?"

"Deal," Dean said. "You know most of it. Several grave desecrations of old gravestones, but fresh bodies where bones should be. People in town go missing a few days before that. We split: you went to check on the newest body, while we checked the cemetery. We ganked the ghoul, figured you were coming back from the morgue, but you never showed. After about three hours of looking, we came back here to see if you had maybe come back at all. Actually, we were just about to leave again." Dean clapped his hands. "Did you ever find anything at the morgue?"

"Yeah, the guy had died from…" …asphyxiation. You trailed off. "Oh crap…"

"What? What is it?"

"Asphyxiation. The guy… he, uh, he had died from asphyxiation. Originally, I mean. The ghoul had been burying his food to eat later. Like… like a squirrel. Must have taken the guy out to snack on, but he was already dead." It was all coming together. "The ghoul was either stupid or confident because he got sloppy. Probably because he was too hungry to care. That's why… why I… why I..." Damn it, you let that slip. You peered around them, looking for escape. "Guys, hey, can I just shower? I really just wanna—"

This time, Sam caught your arm. He was gentle, but he had a firm grip. "That's why you what?"

You clammed up, peeling your eyes away from them. "Why I… uh…" you couldn't think of an excuse, and the silence was becoming too long to make a convincing one on the spot. You should have walked into this room with a workable lie in mind, but all you had wanted was to shower, scrub all the dirt off your skin, and to lather soap where you had touched that god-awful corpse. You just wanted to be clean and to sleep.

And you seriously were trying to tell them things. Lying sucked, but this? You weren’t sure if you could tell them this and come out of it in one piece.

Sam softly said your name again, trying to bring your eyes back to his. It was too easy. He knew your tells. Your eyes always gave you away if you lied.

We're never going to let this die, your inner Dean voice sang. And you internally swatted it away. 

I know, you thought sourly. Behind your eyes, a pressure built. Just let me go so I can cry alone. I can't cry in front of you. I can't. "He—it… might have…  buried me alive." It took everything you had in you for your voice to stay steady.

Both of them rocked back a little. Dean looked a little dazed, and Sam looked pale. Sam tilted his head, "Excuse me, buried—?"

"It explains the dirt," Dean sighed. "No offense, sweetheart, but you smell like a toilet."

Oh, shove it, Winchester.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I just want to shower—"

"Hold on," Sam said. He had his hands combing his hair. "Hold on, hold on, just— am I the only one bothered by this?! She— you could have died!"

"But I didn't," "But she didn't," you and Dean said in unison. He winked at you and you rolled your eyes back.

"Sam. I have been through a lot. You know it, I know it. I'm not that girl from two years ago. You said it yourself once before: I'm a Winchester now. And I'm not a Winchester without a few near death experiences."

Sam scowled. "You two are so frustrating. Fine, go. Go take your shower. This conversation isn't over, though."

Thank God. You could handle this later. The conversation alone had keyed you up. You were burning with tension, anxiety, and trauma. You waved a hand at him. "Fine. But can we do it in the morning? I am so frickin' exhausted." It wasn't a lie; you had bruises lining your entire back, and your face muscles hurt from all the fake expressions you were sending Sam.

They can't know that I'm weak. How hard could it be, anyway?

Dean did it once, like a freaking champ. Why couldn't you just suck it up and be a big girl?

He looked on at you with that sad, thoughtful look of his. Complete with the infamous Winchester puppy eyes. "Yeah, sure."

You were happy to get out of the conversation—and this hunt—relatively unscathed. Hopefully, you would never have to go through that crap ever again, or you really didn't think you'd be able to keep yourself together like you just had.

When you shut the bathroom door behind you, you let the silent tears run down your face. You bit your hand, heaving, wishing you had the freedom to scream. But you couldn't, so you didn't. All you did was turn on the shower right as you let out a quiet sob into a towel to muffle it out. 

Why did your life suck so bad?

///

#supernatural #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural gif#SPN#spn gifs#spnfandom#fanfiction#fanfic#Supernatural fanfic#dean winchester#dean#dean fanfiction#sam fanfiction#Sam Winchester#sam#reader#reader insert#x reader#dean x reader#sam x reader#sam x you#sam x y/n#sam x platonic reader#dean x platonic reader#fanfics#fanfictions#spn fanfics#spn fanfictions

[grumpyhedgehogs]

something old, something new

Summary:  Cody meets Luke. It stirs up mixed emotions. Cody also gets a mission; it's not any more straightforward. AO3. Part 4 of the “scraps” series. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5.

Warnings: Grief/mourning, anger, canonical character death.

Cody meets Obi-Wan’s last padawan on a rebel base after he’s just signed up for a covert mission onto the Death Star.

His limbs shake. His spine tingles; heat and chills flash alternately over his skin. Cody feels sick bubble up his throat but swallows it as best he can. His vision is blurry around the edges. He can’t quite believe what he’s agreed to. He’s been running from the Empire for months, picking off Imps at a distance for months, avoiding the void in space that is the Death Star for months. But the rebel commanders are right; Cody is the best person to go back in. He’s the best undercover operative they have on hand. He’s already familiar with trooper regs, and he’s used to filling out the armor. His face, while recognizable as Jango Fett’s copy, is not uncommon among Imps. Cody is the best choice. It still turns his stomach.

He wonders if this is how Obi-Wan felt before the Hardeen incident. General Windu had told Ponds offhandedly that Kenobi had asked to veto the mission but was overruled by the need to save Chancellor Palpatine, and Ponds had let Cody know too. Cody wishes they’d just let him die.

He’ll have to leave behind his armor. His own logo has spread, first to Rex's chest piece, then Ahsoka had carved it into her vambraces, then any clone the rebels rescued seem to have the lightsaber and 212th insignias overlapping on their armor somewhere. It makes it a little easier to strip off his own armor, knowing the symbol will still be upheld when Cody isn’t wearing it. It still feels like a betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” Cody whispers to any Jedi spirits who might still be listening. “I’m sorry. I keep failing you.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Cody doesn’t jump, but his hand is on his blaster when he turns. A man not much older than boyhood stands at the entrance to Cody’s bunk; it’s not odd to see strangers on the base, everyone moves in and out as needed, but most people don’t stop to chat. Especially not with Cody. He thinks they might not be used to seeing someone so old fighting with them.

“You ever knock?”

The kid’s face, round and tanned and youthful, falls a little. “There’s no door,” he mutters, petulant. Cody is reminded absurdly of General Skywalker at the beginning of the wars. He shakes it off.

“What’d you need?” He has to get to packing. Cody bends down and picks up the repurposed trooper armor he’d been given for the assignment. The stark, empty whiteness mocks him. He longs for his own armor; his own trooper stuff or his 212th outfit, it doesn’t matter. At least they’re his . This costume he must don belongs to a dead man.

“I just heard you talking and wanted to know if you needed to talk to someone.”

“You go looking for conversations with strangers often, kid?”

The kid shakes his head, blond hair flopping in his face as he does. There’s a strange, familiar little smile on his face as he says, “Sometimes I just get these feelings about things.”

The smile is what does it, it's so like Obi-Wan's. It hits Cody like a blaster bolt between the eyes. He wobbles on his feet and the kid takes a surprised step forward, ready to assist, but Cody holds up his hand and regains his balance. He still feels shaky, and he ends up lowering himself onto his bunk. It’s reminiscent of all those months ago when he made the decision to desert; reflexively, he reaches over and tugs the robe from where he’d folded it after removing it from his armor. Cody pulls it into his lap and tries not to look directly at the young man. “You--Kenobi saved you from the Death Star. You and the Alderaanian princess.”

“Wh--yes,” the kid says. “How did you know that?”

“I was there.”

Blue eyes dart to his discarded armor, to his weathered face, to the new stormtrooper armor he’ll have to wear. He can see the gears turning before the kid blurts out, “You deserted?”

That's one way to look at the chip deactivating. Cody nods. The blond grins widely. “That’s great! Gosh, I knew not all of the Empire could be evil.”

“Enough of it is.”

He seems to shrug this off as he steps further into the room. He sticks his hand out to Cody. “I’m glad to meet you. My name’s Luke Skywalker.”

It takes everything in Cody not to crush his hand in surprise. He lets go hastily. “Where’d you get a name like that?”

“Tatooine. I’m named after my father, but I never met him. If you--you knew Kenobi?” Cody nods, numb. “He was from Tatooine too. He trained me in the ways of the Jedi before we got to the Death Star.”

No he’s not , Cody wants to say. He’s from Coruscant. He’s Stewjoni but he doesn’t remember any of that place and he grew up in the Temple on Coruscant. His padawan was Anakin Skywalker. Who are you?

But it’s all clicking in his head the minute he thinks of these questions. Skywalker, the former slave. He used to avoid sand like the plague. He never talked about his home planet. Amidala had been pregnant. Obi-Wan disappeared, presumed dead by most of the Empire, for years.

What was the one place Skywalker would never return to on pain of death?

“Clever,” Cody mutters. He waves off Luke’s confused expression. Cody focuses, evaluating, and Luke shifts on his feet, ducks his head. He’s wearing the orange flight suit of the rebel pilots, but he’s too skinny and it’s baggy on him. He certainly doesn’t look like he’s going to follow in his father’s footsteps to the Dark side. “I knew Obi-Wan in the wars, before the Empire. He was my general and I was his commander.”

“Really? That's so wizard! Can you tell me more about him?” Luke asks eagerly. His intensity is a little overwhelming. Cody picks up the new armor and starts strapping it to his legs over his blacks. He can’t stand to put on the new chest piece before he has to.

“I’ve got a mission.” He cuts Luke off shortly. His head pounds, his heart pounds. Obi-Wan would say he’s being rude. He is being rude. “Sorry.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s okay.” Cody doesn’t look up. Luke sounds like the shinies used to, all nervous and fearful of rejection. The sound clamps tight around his lungs. “It’s just that he knew my father but he didn't talk a lot about him. I was hoping…”

Cody looks up then, and rage blazes through him. He remembers Vader’s saber slicing through someone beloved, he remembers the black cloud of misery and death sweeping away, he remembers those loathed hands curling around the hilt of a trusted weapon. He looks up and Cody is ready to scream, to fight, to sink his teeth in and hold on.

He meets guileless blue eyes and a slight, kind smile. It’s a smile he’s used to seeing on a dead face. Cody’s mouth shuts with a click.

(This child doesn’t know his father. This child barely knew Obi-Wan. Cody trusts Obi-Wan still, at least enough not to break this child’s trusting idealism. There’s a reason for everything Obi-Wan did.)

“I didn’t know Skywalker personally.” He mutters, looking away. When he catches Luke sagging out of the corner of his eye, guilt gnaws at Cody. He amends, “I only met him during missions. He was a good fighter. Obi-Wan cared a lot about him. They were--people called them The Team, they were so good together.”

“Wow,” Luke breathes. There’s a ruckus outside, a group of fellow pilots and soldiers rushing past, but he doesn’t waver from his study of Cody’s tight expression. “Thank you.”

“Obi-Wan raised you, then?” Any topic is better than Skywalker. He wishes Rex were here, but he and Ahsoka have to deal with some mess the rebels had made for them on the other side of the universe.

“Oh, no,” Luke laughs. He scrubs a hand across the back of his neck and Cody’s heart twists. “No, but he was around the whole time. I think maybe he was watching out for me, in memory of my father, you know.”

“Sounds like something Obi-Wan would do.”

A taller man in a vest swings into the open doorway and crosses his arms over his chest when he sees Luke. Squinting, Cody thinks maybe he remembers this man from the Death Star too. Small galaxy. “Luke. It’s time to go.”

“Sure thing, Han!” Luke waits until Han has left with a grumble before turning around and holding his hand out to Cody again. Cody rises and shakes it; his skin doesn’t burst into flames from touching a Skywalker a second time. “Thank you for your time. If you--if you ever want to talk some more about Obi-Wan…?”

“You know where to find me.” Cody offers and hopes the words don’t sound too wooden. Then, moving as if he is deep underwater, he pauses and turns back to his bunk. The edges of the robe are even more frayed now, and there's one corner with a hole in it. Cody begins to lift the scrap of cloth up, because he loves Obi-Wan, he does, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that Obi-Wan would want a Skywalker taken care of. His whole being rejects the notion, grief and heartache and longing screaming at him to stop, yet Cody offers it anyway, words dry on his tongue. But Luke's eyes are wide, and he shakes his head mutely. Relief floods through him. When Cody drops the cloth back to the cot, Luke carries on like nothing has happened.

“You’re going undercover on the Death Star, right? That’s you?”

Cody nudges the new trooper bucket near his foot and grunts. “Scarif helped us get schematics of the place, but the command wants to make sure we’re not leaving anybody--or anything useful--behind. So they’re sending me in to make sure, minimize collateral damage.”

“That sounds like a dangerous job.”

“I’m used to it.”

Luke pauses for a long moment. He doesn’t look directly at Cody, his eyes far away. Suddenly the kid turns back, continence even brighter than it's been for the entire conversation. “Keep your own armor on,” he advises. Then, with a sly glace to the cloth bundle on Cody's cot, he adds, “And the poncho. I think it might help you soon. It certainly couldn't hurt, right?”

Cody nods, a little uncertain. Luke smiles again and wanders out. Pensive, Cody turns back to his bunk and spreads his fingers over the fabric of Obi-Wan’s robe, trails them over the insignia on his armor. “Another Skywalker, huh? You sure know how to pick ‘em, Obi-Wan.”

[akutagawasbitch]

Memories: Chapter one

Hey guys here's chapter one of my OC sorry! I hope you enjoy. As always feedback is greatly appreciated ❤️

It was a normal night for Yukiche, and everything was running smoothly. No bloody mafioso in sight. After she had cleaned up all the blood and water, the mafioso left after threatening her. He left after telling her that he “owed her a favour” which didn’t feel particularly reassuring. But she didn’t have time to reflect on the events of that night. She had to focus. Three other girls were working tonight alongside her to help keep things running smoothly and guests entertained. Akiko was on waitressing tonight, her dark brown hair tied back in a simple bun, Enya was alongside her on bar helping get through the millions of drink orders and Aimi was on the bar as well but taking orders. Things had gotten a lot easier since she had hired the three girls to help out. Before she struggled to get through a shift in one piece, running herself ragged. Taking orders, making orders, serving orders all while keeping guests entertained was draining the life out of her. The only thing she did was work and sleep but now she had more time on her hands, giving her the freedom to take days off if she needed to.

Besides the girls helped out her other side business: blackmailing the wealthy businessmen who came into her bar. If they ever tried to finance any competition or try pull any stunts, she had entire folders of secrets that she could spill and ruin their lives. That’s what kept her afloat, not the sales but her extensive knowledge of all the dirty gossip around Yokohama alongside with evidence. She could use to destroy the entire business world of Yokohama if she wanted to, but she had no interest in that. All she wanted was the bar to stay open so she could pay back Haru. She didn’t care about gaining wealth or status. She just wanted to live life well and to the fullest.

“I need to get another shipment” Yukiche thought to herself, looking behind her at the rows of alcohol. She was running low on pretty much everything, tonight was so busy thus wiping out her entire supply. Turning around she was about to call Akiko over when she saw something that made her see red.

One of the businessmen grabbed Akiko and was trying to grope her ass.

“That fucker.” She hissed, fuming.

He was easily 40s with balding hair and a greasy slimy look to him. A human equivalent of a cockroach. She smiled and waved to him, catching his eye. Yukiche made sure to learn over and cross her arms so he got a view, enticing him to come over. He blinks and she winks at him, beckoning him over with her finger, smiling. He walks over all smug and she just wants to break his jaw and wipe that arrogant smile off his face. He arrives at the bar.

“What’s up gorgeous? Are you wanting to buy this handsome devil a drink hm? Or maybe get to “know” each other a little better after hours hm?” he yelled in what he perceived as a “seductive” tone. In reality it was creepy, and he sounded like he swallowed a hive of bees with how raspy his voice was.

She smiles sweetly and says “I saw you trying to grab my waitress’s ass. If you ever pull that shit again, I will break your jaw. Now get the fuck out of my bar you deplorable cretin of a being.”

The man looks shocked and insulted. “Who the fuck do you think you are to speak to me like that? Fuck you bitch, I’m not going anywhere. Besides she was asking for it, wearing a skirt that short. She’s practically flashing everyone.”

Yukiche sighed, she picked up a bottle and started to clean it. Holding it up to the light she inspected it and smashed it over the man’s head. The glass shattered everywhere, some of it getting into his head and face. She grabbed the top of his balding head and smashed it into the bar top.

“Oh, my apologies. You were practically asking for it, you see?” she commented, smiling sweetly. His face was an absolute bloody mess.

“You fucking psycho! You broke my fucking nose!” he screamed at her.

“Ah well, you’re lucky. I was hoping to break a lot more than that. Now I suggest you get out before I break your legs.” She sneered, leaning over the bar to look at him. “Now run along little boy, I’m sure your wife is anxiously awaiting you so she can fake it for 5 minutes.” The entire bar started laughing.

“You fucking bitch, you’ll regret this. I will ruin your life.” He spat out, standing up and pointing a fat finger at Yukiche.

“I’m not your wife so no… my life isn’t ruined but have fun trying!” she waved to him as he stormed out. Sighing, she signalled to Aimi to clean up the blood while she went and personally apologised to all the customers for the disturbance.

 It had been a few weeks since the incident at the bar, but business hadn’t dropped. More and more businessmen were coming and bringing along potential clients to enjoy the drinks and the atmosphere. While she enjoyed busy nights more than slow nights, it did mean Yukiche hadn’t had a day off in weeks. All her other co-workers took days off and she had to cover their shifts herself which sucked but she didn’t mind. They needed to have a break once and awhile. Besides she was planning on taking a two-week trip soon anyways, so she didn’t mind.

It was after the bar had closed, and she was finishing cleaning up the bar top. Spilled drinks meant the bar top would get insanely sticky throughout the night and if she didn’t clean it, she could probably catch flies with it.  Sighing, she scrubbed at the sticky stains vigorously, swearing to herself.

“Fucking assholes, I hate this shit” she muttered to herself, continuing scrubbing at the stain aggressively. Suddenly the door flew off the handle across the room, crashing into the wall. The light bulb shatters as the door flies through it, plunging the room into darkness. Yukiche whips around to have her shoulder stabbed by a glowing red black tendril. She screams out in pain, her eyes watering as blood began to drip onto the floor. Panting she dives under the bar, grabbing her cleaning rag and pressing it against her wound. Hissing in pain from the chemicals reacting to her skin, she tries to quieten her breathing. Her heart was pounding in her ears, making it hard to hear anything but she listened out the best she could for any noise. Footsteps walked in, along with someone coughing. Swallowing she grabs the gun hidden under the bar and loads it as quietly as she can.

Her hands shaking as she holds the gun, her breathing shallow. She listens out for any sounds but hears nothing. She has the advantage here. She knows the bar like the back of her hand, she knows how sound echoes off the walls so any sound she hears she’ll be able to pinpoint the location in theory.

*cough cough*

She hears the coughing again and tries to focus to work out where its coming from. She can’t. She’s in too much pain and panic is setting in. “Fuck” she thought. She was trapped.

“Death is inevitable. It is a part of life. Walking this world are weak creatures who deserved to be crushed to make way for the strong. In the end your death is no fault but your own. I am merely a messenger of Death. But I am also the Devil himself. So come and take your death willingly and it will be less painful. No matter where you hide, the devil always finds you.”  A male voice comments, his voice void of any emotion.

A wave of anger washes over Yukiche. “Weak creatures who deserved to be crushed huh?” she murmured to herself. Footsteps approach her but she isn’t paying attention. Anger clouds her judgement as she spits out

“What utter bullshit. Who are you to dictate who is weak or strong? You attempt to kill me and act like you’re a god but anyone who tries to kill others because they’re weak is coward. Afraid of themselves and their own weakness. So, who are you to dictate strength when you are the weakest one. I pity you.”

She feels a sharp stabbing pain in her chest and cries out in pain.

“I can’t tell if you’re an idiot or brave to speak to me like that. But then foolish bravery is often the trademark of an idiot.”

Breathing heavily, she collapsed from the pain. Tears prick her eyes and she silently cries. She hopes that her body won’t be discovered by Haru or the girls. She didn’t want them to see that. Swallowing she gets up and tries to crawl away but knocks over a glass. Another tendril stabs but misses her, hitting the wall behind her and causing all the glasses to shatter. She ducks, trying to avoid the falling glass shards.  She accidentally stabs her hand on a piece of glass and tries to muffle her yelp of pain, but it doesn’t work. Black fabric wraps around her ankle as she’s dragged away and thrown against the wall.

Slamming against the wall, Yukiche felt her ribs crack. Groaning from the pain, the man walks closer his body and the air around him glowing red. His coat morphed into a monster with gnashing teeth, glowing red. Her heart was pounding. She tries to move but her body couldn’t.

She was going to die.

The man coughed one more and the beast was about to lunge forward to Yukiche to shreds when a voice yelled out.

“Akutagawa stop! That’s enough.” She recognised that voice. Standing next to the man was Chuuya Nakahara. The man whose life Yukiche saved by accident.

Then everything started to fade to black.

[chief-of-restless-hearts]

Chapter 3: Oaths

.  .  .

Only in the sensible blackness did he remember that he couldn’t have run. It would have killed them. Slade might not even have chased him if he escaped the base. He might have let him run, and then let him return to the Tower to find four dead friends.

Dick drifted in and out of consciousness, losing count of the slow, bleary hours.

Time crawled without any way of measuring it, but the next time he stirred awake his stomach was pinched and complaining. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, his mouth was sandpaper dry, and his head felt stuffed full of throbbing wads of cotton.

He needed to get into the bathroom, for the water, to smear the cold wetness over his face until the crusting blood washed away, to gulp it down until it cleared his throat and his head.

But he felt so heavy, and he didn’t need to do that just yet.

He could wait...

and let his eyelids fall closed...just one more time...

 . . .

 The next time his dry eyes drifted open, he forced himself to move. It wasn’t quite as painful as the night before, but as he pushed up onto all fours he had to stop and wait for a cold shadow of dizziness to pass before rising the rest of the way and making his way haltingly over to the door that he knew would be locked. He checked it anyway.

He pressed his forehead against what was definitely a locked door and waited for the room to stop turning before making his way to the little bathroom.

Everything seemed gray through the mask lenses’ artificial light, and the mirror seemed almost black--save for the glowing white eyes that stared back at him. That at least was a relief. He pulled his gloves off with clumsy fingers, twisted the faucet, and plunged his face under the icy stream, gulping it down until his stomach threatened to send it all up again. Only then did he scrub away the flakes of blood caked along his left jaw and cheek, and pry his mask away from his face just far enough to splash water against his still hot, dry eyes. Knowing Deathstroke, he could be watching even now, even in the dark.

He braced his forearms against the porcelain sink, the water only just beginning to cut the weight of exhaustion away.

It was sinking in that for the first time since this ‘apprenticeship’ began, he didn’t have his hours dictated to him. With that door locked, he didn’t have to go out, listen to Slade, obey Slade, and pretend to not care. In theory, he could now do whatever he wanted.

In theory.

His room was bare, without even an assignment to distract from the dim silence. But at least it was better than having to look Slade in the eye after...that.

He took another chest-stabbing breath, willing himself to relax, and it was in that silence that his memory conjured up Slade’s voice as clearly as if it had been spoken into his ear.

“It’s as rigged over as you are.”

With ragged, painful motions he stripped off the top of his uniform and flung it onto the floor before starting on the pants. When he wore only his undershirt and shorts he sank down against the edge of the shower base. The underground labyrinth was as chilly as ever, and he rubbed his fingers briskly over his bare arms. He could tolerate the cold if it meant Slade didn’t get to read his system like a book.

But there was a blanket on the cot. He made his way across the room and settled under the blanket in the position that hurt his ribs the least.

It really was quiet, wasn’t it? He could hear his own breathing and the low steady thud in his chest, but beyond that the room was as soundless as a sealed tomb. Though he knew better than to think that Slade would keep him in there long enough for it to become a literal one, Dick began psychologically steeling himself for what could be a hungry few days. If necessary he could slow his breathing and heartbeat to essentially hibernate through the empty hours, but until then, all he really wanted to do was sleep.

  . . .

  He managed to ruffle Jason’s mop of coarse black curls before the kid ducked away with a growl of protest. Laughing, Dick dropped down beside Jason on the edge of the tower roof. The kid scooted away to put a full three feet between them.

Despite the mere two years between them in age, Jason stood a full head below Dick in stature. The teasing over that had stopped after Bruce explained that it was due to childhood malnutrition.

Jay scowled down at the trees surrounding Titans’ tower, but his lips were twitching treacherously.

With a renewed grin, Dick leaned forward just enough to catch his eye. “You know, we could do this more often if you’d just come over to the Tower. It was fun today, wasn’t it? Being part of the team?”

Jason’s masked gaze shifted away from him. “He doesn’t let me go out alone.”

Dick’s grin slipped. “Oh.”

He watched Jason fiddle idly with the corner of his cape; it was the same butter yellow that his had been before his work with the Titans had driven him to make a few alterations to his Robin costume. It still felt strange seeing his colors on someone else, even if he had grown past the discomfort.

Jason was a good kid. It had hardly been his fault when Bruce suddenly decided that his first Robin wasn’t doing the job well enough anymore.

“...But he might if you were in Gotham,” Jason continued suddenly. “If you came I could show you some cool tunnels I found by the docks. He never lets me explore with him, but together we could...” his gaze slanted toward Dick again, and he shrugged, “y’know, have fun.”

Dick could hear the barely reined eagerness in his voice.

He should have agreed. He should have gone home. But just the thought of facing Bruce again was enough to shut that option away altogether.

He kicked back against the Tower wall. “I dunno. It’s just that the HIVE called a hit on the team recently, so we’ve got this mercenary to deal with. I’m still working on a plan to draw him out, and...I think I must have mentioned some of that earlier.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Well, I promise to stop by as soon as I can, li’l wing.”

He reached to ruffle Jay’s hair again, but the boy slapped his hand away and pushed to his feet.

“You know, Bruce said that we’d be brothers,” Jason bit out. “That’s a real joke. It’s been two years and I barely even know you.”

Something gripped Dick’s throat. “Jay--”

"I should get going,” Jason interrupted, not even looking at him. “Bruce and I are planning on going to a Knights’ game tonight. Unless he’s busy too.”

Jason leapt off the roof, arms spread like a bird as he fell. Dick jolted to his feet, to call after him, to catch him--but below the tower was nothing but a black void, he couldn't see Jason anymore, and all of a sudden, he knew that he wasn’t on the tower.

He never had been.

Dick’s phone was ringing. But he didn’t have his phone, not anymore. Still, he took it out of his pocket.

The caller ID said Jason Todd.

He tried to answer. He couldn’t.

The ringing finished, transitioning to the answering message.

“So...hey. It’s been a while, so this is me, calling that number you gave me. You must be busy or something, but I wanted to ask if maybe, when you have time later, we could hang out...or something. So, uh...see ya, I guess.”

*Beep*

The phone was ringing again. Agitatedly, he tried again to answer, futilely jamming his finger into the button repeatedly until the next answering message began.

“Hey. Last time didn’t work out, I get it, but Bruce and I are going to go up to the cabin in Vermont next week, and he said that I should ask if you’re interested in coming with. If you’re still busy with the Titans...that’s cool. No biggie. Bye.”

*Beep*

Dick’s throat tightened with guilt and foreboding. He nearly screamed in frustration as the ringing resumed, until the message brought Jason’s voice again, this time quieter, more tense. Dick stopped breathing.

“Dick. I...need to ask you something. Do this for me and I swear I’ll never ask for anything again, but there’s something that I need to do. I can do it alone, but I was wondering if...maybe --Oh hell, nevermind.”

*Beep*

Dick’s heart was hammering in his ears.

Oh God. Not this. Not again. No.

The ringing came and passed again, uninterrupted.

“I called, Dick. Before Joker, before I even left the manor. And I’ll bet that Bruce still doesn’t know.”

This time, the voice came from a shadow he could just make out through the inky black, caped in butter yellow with gleaming white accusing eyes.

The ringing began again and this time--finally--when Dick’s desperate finger slammed on the button, it stopped. He pulled the phone to his ear.

“Jason?” he asked, breathlessly.

Shrill, manic laughter screamed into his ear, almost but not quite drowning out the gut-lurching crunch of metal slamming into flesh and bone.

He yanked the phone away from his ear, hand slapped over his mouth and fighting back the bile that was pushing up his throat.

Jason’s voice from the shadows, again.

“‘Brothers’. What a joke.”

  . . .

  He jolted awake with Jason’s name in his raw throat. He was on his side facing the wall, a blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and gradually his true location sank in. He pressed his hands over his eyes and waited for the lingering sensations of the dream to pass. The adrenaline. The tremors.

His sandpaper tongue and twinging abdomen were the only indicators for how long he had slept. It had been too long. He made himself return to the sink for water. Once satisfied, he turned on the shower.

He jumped back at the sharp hiss of the water, only to flush with embarrassment. He sincerely hoped that Slade hadn’t seen that.

The water, though tepid as always, still helped soothe the bruising patched across his torso, back, and jaw. The water cut off abruptly after five minutes, and sullenly Dick stepped out and scrubbed the damp out of his hair with the towel on the rack.

Unable and unwilling to sleep any longer, he dressed and put himself through a series of bends and stretches to gauge how far he could push through the pain.

Far enough, he decided once sweat was pouring from his temples after what should have been a basic warm-up. He would be easy pickings next time Slade decided to teach him a lesson, and that thought brought a prickling of the old anger back. He was sick of being treated like a student, a toy, and a prisoner in turns. It was like the man couldn’t make up his mind.

He sat stiffly against the cot with the silence still ringing in his ears, and waited. Perhaps he should have been using the time to ruminate over a new plan, but for now his mind was a blank.

He waited, and dozed, and tried not to dream.

 . . .

 A clack jolted him back to consciousness and the door swung open to pour blinding white light into his eyes.

He flung his arm across his eyes, hastily deactivating the night-vision lenses, and peered through the fading pain to see a familiar silhouette standing out stark against the doorway. He stood stiffly before Slade had a chance to tell him to and forced himself to glare into the cutting brightness.

“Get dressed,” said Slade. “I’ll be waiting in the training room.”

“I’m not fighting you like this!” Dick shouted before Slade could leave, hating how his voice cracked at the end. “You’ve already made your point.”

Slade paused, half-turned in the doorway. Dick glimpsed the man’s profile; he was unmasked.

“Who said anything about fighting?” Slade asked dryly. “I’m not going to repeat myself, Renegade. Do as you’re told.”

Slade left the door ajar, and Dick stared after him for a few seething moments before snatching his (still torn) uniform off the bathroom floor. When he stepped into the hallway, the floor seemed to sway under him. He braced against the wall just in time. He hadn’t felt this weak for a long, long time.

He made his way down the seemingly endless hall and entered the gym, half expecting to see Slade waiting on the mat, no matter what he had said. But he wasn’t. He was standing on the right side of the room beside one of the work tables, with something in his hands.

Deathstroke’s sword. Dick recognized it by the elaborate brass hilt as the one Slade always wore strapped across his back. Fending off a twinge of foreboding, Dick approached.

Slade lifted the naked sword so that it rested across his open palms and then extended it toward Dick, who glanced uncertainly between Slade and the weapon.

“Place your right hand over the blade,” Slade instructed, and waited for Dick to comply. “Now,” he continued smoothly, “I’m going to straighten a few things out for you: You are my apprentice now, not Batman’s. You take orders from me alone. You are no longer a Titan, neither are you a sidekick dressed like a parrot, and you will only continue to make life more difficult for the both of us until you learn to accept that and afford me a little trust.”

Dick’s glare hardened. “You don’t honestly expect me to--”

“Trust will come in its own time, but until then, I want you to learn the weight of your word, once given.”

Suddenly knowing exactly what Slade wanted him to do, Dick tried to pull his hand away from the sword. Slade’s hand clamped over his, pinning it in place. Dick pinched his lips together and tried to think.

“What ‘word’?” he snapped.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

 . . .

  “This is the oath you took?”

Bruce paused, froze, for just an instant. “We’ll share this vow,” he said at last, and if that wasn’t exactly an answer Dick was far beyond caring. “If there is anything about it you would like to change--”

“No.” His fingers trembled over the paper with reverence and anticipation. “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

 . . .

 With frustration Dick waited for yet another wave of dizziness to pass.

“So,” Slade prompted. “Do I have your word?”

Dick met his gaze with as much defiance as he could muster. “Those words won’t mean anything. Only one thing is keeping me here, and it isn’t words.”

 . . .

  Batman stood over his bed, holding a single candle.

Dick’s clock read three minutes to midnight. He didn’t even think to change out of his pajamas before bounding after Bruce through the hall, down the stone stairwell, and into the cave that was dimmer than he’d ever seen it. All the way down, the oath worked silently over his lips and then, over a fraying Bible and the light of that single, gleaming candle, he raised his right hand and looked into Batman’s piercing white eyes.

“I’m ready.”

 . . .

 “Maybe you don’t understand the importance of a vow yet, but one day you will,” Slade said. “Now, say it. What is your name?” When Dick stiffened, Slade wryly clarified, “Your title.”

A moment passed, and Dick knew by the shift in Slade’s expression that something in his eyes must have betrayed his answer.

“Robin,” he answered, and the conviction in his voice was the first solid thing he’d felt in days.

Slade’s hand whipped across his face.

“I’d rethink that answer if I were you,” Slade hissed. The clamping grip over Dick’s hand returned, this time squeezing until the bones of his hand ground together, dangerously close to snapping. Dick held his cry behind his clenched teeth, refusing to break eye contact. “...Or do you need some more time alone to think it over?”

“My name,” Dick repeated, voice level but dangerously tight, “is Robin.”

Without another word the sword ripped out from under his hand, slicing across his palm.

This time Dick didn’t resist as Slade grabbed his upper arm, hauled him down the hall, and flung him like a ragdoll onto the floor of his room. His conviction barely wavered, even as the door slammed shut and locked behind him with a finality that stirred up dread in his gut.

He took one deep breath, let it out, and took another. He activated his night vision and set about cleaning and wrapping his hand with the med kit under his cot. He could handle this, and it was worth it. While in this room, he couldn’t be Slade’s tool. He couldn’t hurt his friends. He couldn’t steal, or kill, or break any of the vows he had made to Bruce and to himself.

In here, he was buying precious time, time that the Titans or the League or Bruce could use to sort out this mess before it got any worse.

He could handle this.

 . . .

 He couldn’t sleep.

He waited, even used the slowed breathing techniques he’d been taught to use in extreme emergency to bring him close to a coma, but the closest he came to sleep was dreams that he flickered in and out of so quickly and so frequently that it was difficult to discern between them.

“Enough, Jason,” he whispered under his breath. The physical sound touched his ears, pulling him just an inch closer to reality. “I know that I messed up. I should have been your brother, and I should have protected you. I KNOW.”

He flinched as his own shout rang shrilly through his skull--and through his ribs, and then he was coughing, uncontrollably even though the pain spiked through him like claws through his chest, the suffocating fluid wasn’t in his throat it was deep inside his chest and no matter how hard he coughed he couldn’t get it out, he couldn’t breathe...

He didn’t know how much time passed before he was laying limp on his side, sucking in shuddering, painful, but hungry breaths. Slowly, his heartbeat stopped thundering against his ribs.

He should never have left either of them, not the way he had, and the guilt of it clung to the inside of his chest, just as suffocating. But...Bruce had been...different, after Jason came. Suddenly nothing his first Robin did had been good enough for him, Bruce had changed and he still didn’t know why, whether it was Gotham or...or him...

Moving into Titans Tower had been his choice, his hot blooded retaliation against Bruce’s passive-aggressive maneuvering, but he had wanted Bruce to make him come back home. Or ask. Anything but the disconnect that happened instead. In the end it had been Alfred who came to see him, bringing only a question of why.

Slade wasn’t as wrong as Dick wanted him to be, but Dick hadn’t been the only one abandoned. Because where had Dick been when Bruce needed him, when Jason needed him. And now Jason was six feet under and somehow Dick was buried even deeper, leaving Bruce alone, more alone than he’d been since Dick first met him.

When it ultimately came down to the question of blame, each time he torturously cycled through it the answer was always, always, anyone but Jason.

 . . .

 How many hours had it been, now? Twenty-four hours? Fifty?

Had Halloween passed yet?

Gar had been looking forward to trick-or-treating, wasting hours trying to convince Vic and Raven to come with him. Gar had never had the opportunity to go before, and his enthusiasm had blinded him to the realization that Vic would never agree to treat his cybernetic parts like a costume and that Raven would rather drop dead than put on the Batgirl costume he had bought her in a futile attempt at bribery. It probably hadn’t helped that Gar had been planning to go as himself.

Gar had even bought a Batman costume for Dick...who had been too busy to even consider wearing it.

At the time, he had been utterly preoccupied with his work--that had largely circulated around Red X. His futile plan to draw Slade’s attention by assuming the identity of a skilled thief. Stupidly, Dick had been following the logic that Deathstroke might seek out a replacement for his former partner, Ravager, the boy Deathstroke had cried over as he died at their feet.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Not only had Deathstroke been humoring him the entire time, when the Titans ultimately learned the truth they hadn’t understood at all.

He had made a mistake, he knew that now. But back then, all that wasted time had seemed the most important thing in the world.

Dick remembered Gar’s crestfallen reaction to his apologetic rejection, and winced.

Kory had of course embraced Gar’s plans with her usual wholehearted zeal. When Gar had given her the Wonder Woman costume he had picked out for her she had embraced the much shorter boy in a bone-crushing hug and proceeded to join him in pestering their teammates.

Dick had found it much harder to say no to her cajoling, faced with wide, hopeful green eyes that glimmered with unspoken concern...but he had done it anyway. It was already difficult enough to focus on the mission without her smiles turning him into a distracted, blushing mess.

Though a selfish part of him wanted his team’s first priority to be getting to the bottom of this charade...he did hope that Gar and Kory had still gone trick-or-treating.

Right now he wanted nothing more than to get back home to the Tower and apologize to all of them for being such an ass for at least the past month...but first he would need to get out.

He would get out. Of course he would get out.

Any time now would be good, he thought earnestly, with just a hint of panic as once again the walls pressed down on him from all sides, as though by sheer force of will he might get Raven to hear him.

A voice whispered back, but it wasn’t Raven’s.

“No one ever comes, Dick. No one.”

Dick pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and pressed his forearms against his ears. “Please, shut up,” he whispered. “Please.”

 . . .

 The crack of an opening door and the immediate onslaught of piercing brightness flooded his senses again before Slade’s hulking silhouette cut between him and the light.

Slade grabbed and hauled him upright and then out the door without speaking a word. Dick tripped over his own feet more than once, a blinding bout of dizziness nearly dropping him, but Slade’s iron hold on his arm kept pulling him along. His feet were a little more steady under him by the time they finally reached the gym.

He smelled the food on the worktable before he saw it, and the aroma curdled a confused mixture of nausea and desperation in his smarting stomach. He glimpsed sweet potatoes and stewed oats before forcing himself to look away.

Slade, masked this time, halted exactly where they had stood before. He reached over his shoulder, drew his sword from its sheath, and then slapped Dick’s bandaged hand down on the blade. Slade stared down at him until Dick forced his dry eyes upward.

He was so tired. He saw a chair behind Slade at the table, and wanted nothing more than to slump down into it, already drained by the brief walk from his room.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Slade said coldly. “What is your name?”

Dick said nothing, his teeth clamped tightly shut. He wanted this over with. He wanted Slade to send him back into the dark. He also wanted to eat, and he wanted to spit into Slade’s one good eye. But mostly he was tired. He knew what his answer was, but this time he was too weary to say it.

“Do not make me wonder if I’m wasting my time on you,” Slade said in a frigid near-whisper. “Or did I not make it clear that your friends will only live as long as I have a use for you?”

Dick’s heart stuttered in his chest. For the first time he looked into Slade’s face, saw the man’s brow furrowed under the cloth mask, and fresh, almost-forgotten fear curled around his gut.

“I’ll do it,” he mumbled, gaze drifting down to his hand on the sword.

They were just words. It didn’t matter. Not really.

“Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” Slowly, wearily, Dick obeyed the order. “Your name?” Slade prompted him.

He forced the name out. It felt like ripping something out of his chest, something he could never put back. I’m sorry, Jay. I’m sorry the title had to die with me.

“Renegade.”

“And what do you swear to do,” Slade asked, “on the lives of your friends?”

He could have sworn he could still smell the burning wick, feel the leather binding fraying under his fingers, still hear Bruce’s baritone voice overlaying his own as they spoke the oath together, ‘I swear to fight against crime and corruption, and never to swerve from the path of righteousness--’

“I swear to,” he swallowed, “serve as your apprentice.”

“And?”

“To follow your orders.” Words. Just words, he told himself, even as frustrated tears pricked at his eyes. “But--”

“No,” Slade barked. “No conditions. That isn’t how this deal of ours works.” Slade pulled the sword back and slid it back into its sheath. “We’re done,” he said shortly, and waved a hand toward the tray of food that Dick had given up on looking away from. “When you finish that there’s medication in the kitchen.”

Dick watched Slade walking away, fully confident that he had won, and what was left of Dick’s anger reached its boiling point.

“What about you?” he burst out. Slade stopped, and turned slowly. “If this is a deal, then what’s your oath?”

Slade surveyed him for a long moment before he spoke. “You have what I’ve already promised you, that I’ll teach and train you to the best of my ability...and that your life from now on will only be as difficult as you make it. You have my word on that. And I do keep my word, Renegade.”

He turned, then stopped as though something had occurred to him. “Oh, and I fixed you a new uniform top. You’ll be wearing it tomorrow night.” Slade grabbed something from the table beside him and tossed the black and orange bundle of kevlar beside the food tray before starting for the hall. “I’ll be going out tonight,” he called back. “If I were you, I’d use the time to ensure I was in shape for my first encounter with the HIVE.”

As soon as the doors closed behind Slade, Dick dropped like a stone into the chair by the table. His stomach was doing uncomfortable things at the sight of the food, and it was all he could do to make sure that he ate slowly enough to keep the food from forcing its way up again.

Finally he finished and leaned back in the chair. Slade had left an ice pack beside the tray; Dick carefully pressed it against his ribcage, and was musing over what medication he should take before proceeding with some semblance of a workout when Slade’s final words finally sank in.

The HIVE? They were going to ‘encounter’ the HIVE?

The one mystery that had haunted him beyond that of Deathstroke’s identity had been the HIVE’s location and intentions. The Titans had known that Ravager had been hired by the mysterious organization, but beyond that Dick hadn’t had a clue of where to start an investigation. That had left the team completely vulnerable to whatever attack might come next, and it had been driving him mad.

But then Deathstroke had proven himself a more immediate threat, and the organization had lost its priority.

What was Slade planning now? He had as good as said that first night that he planned to hold the HIVE accountable for what had happened to his son, and that he intended for Dick to help him do it. Well, that was one thing Dick would not object to.

Dick’s gaze drifted toward the new uniform lying on the table, forgotten until now. A little curious, he reached to pick it up

--only to drop it like a burning coal.

A familiar emblem, a golden ‘R’ that he hadn't expected to see again, was attached to the kevlar over his heart.

R, for Renegade.

  + - + - + - +

  A flurry of thin screeching and leathery wings heralded his return. Long, weary steps, hindered by the tattered cape tangling around his ankles, carried Batman from the landing bay toward the main computers and past the enshrined uniform.

His fingers skimmed a feather touch across the glass casing in answer to the youthful greeting whose deafening absence hollowed the cave out into a tomb, as it should. He settled heavily into the computer chair, and exhaled as much of the weight as would pass out of his lungs, while the gravity still dragged him down.

Familiar clipped footsteps approached his seat from behind, and then paused. “Welcome home, Master Bruce. I trust that you return uninjured?”

Bruce didn’t push back his cowl, didn’t turn. In keeping with their nightly routine, he activated the computer before Alfred would inquire further.

“Sir,” Alfred began again, hesitantly, “during your absence Lucius Fox made multiple attempts to contact you. I...must insist that you listen to what he had to say.”

“I’ll look into it,” Batman said, and his voice came out like gravel. He swallowed, and then out of basic duty, and debt, he forced out the rest. “...Thank you.”

Alfred opened his mouth briefly before resigning himself to pensively pinching his lips together.

Batman pretended not to notice.

Alfred’s concern was ironic, to say the least. If patrols had been ending with more injuries than usual, even Alfred must understand how little that mattered now. With that shrine erected in memory of a child’s life cut short while the father’s inexplicably lingered on, it was impossible to believe otherwise--or to be selfish enough to wish that the still-living child might return to the city that would only eat him alive too.

He prepared to review Gotham’s recent activity. It was inevitable that an excursion with the League, no matter how rare or how urgent, had resulted in him being cut off from his city. He had told the League to contact him for nothing less than an emergency of intergalactic proportions--and they had then proceeded to summon him for exactly that.

Grimly, he braced for the inevitable. The unanswered signals, the damage, the deaths...

An alert flashing across his screen interrupted his search, and in an instant he was viewing surveillance footage of a recent theft from Wayne Tower.

At his shoulder, Alfred sighed. “Perhaps the messages shall be unnecessary,” he said, a note of tension coloring his tone.

Batman didn’t have time to wonder why before the screen came to life. A figure in orange and black emerged from a hatch and darted across the rooftop--with the Teen Titans hot on his heels. At one end of the roof the figure halted, hand pressed to his ear, as if listening to an earpiece.

Bruce’s finger slammed down on the keyboard to freeze the screen. He zoomed in. The intruder was clearly a teenager, whose long dark bangs nearly obscured the domino mask that left his identity unmistakable.

Bruce lurched to his feet, shoving back his cowl, eyes glued to the screen as he searched desperately for a contradiction to what he already knew to be true.

But the recording played on, and Bruce watched as Dick took on his own team single-handedly, his attacks clearly restrained, yet marked with the ferocity of a battle he could not afford to lose. By the time the clip ended the Wayne sign’s lettering was scattered in smoking shambles across the roof, and Dick had vanished with the dissipating smoke, leaving Bruce with a hauntingly familiar hollow forming in his chest.

“Is the lad alright, sir?” Alfred asked softly.

Was he? Bruce should know, he should have watched his surviving son more closely because he recognized those colors, that pattern--

and, already, it was happening again.

[lognecro]

I’m getting job training at Bonehaven learning center

I’m typing this on my phone because I don’t have a computer, but i’m hoping to get one in the next month. Anyways, my name is Logan, and I had no direction in life. I was born on March 22, 2003, so i’ll be 18 in about a month. I have a few interesting things about me that might be important for this blog. I am autistic, I suffer from several mental disorders that cause psychosis, anger issues, and in general destructive behavior. I dropped out of high school midway through junior year, and have been through the process of getting my ged while holding down a job at a grocery store.

I don’t know when but my parents found out about a program called Job Corps, and I filled out an application. I’ll be going to the Bonehaven center in Oregon, where I will be trained in SAPS(Security and protective services). This should be happening in the next few months, but since right now my life is doing pretty poorly social wise, I thought writing a journal might help. I don’t like being trapped in my own bubble though, so i’m doing a blog. Instead of screaming my thoughts onto paper, i’ll be doing it into the void that is the internet.

My hobbies include reading and writing, listening to music, and practicing bass(I’m not very good at it). I’m hoping in the future though to write my own music, or at least perform in a band. My main dream is to become a ghost and monster hunter though, traveling the United States checking out hotspots of folklore and supernatural activity. Sadly I have to focus on reality, and that’s why I am doing SAPS with Job Corps, I’m not an idiot but i’m not the smartest guy either, and despite me having a bit of a weight issue, when i’m working out regularly I have body builder muscles and i’m absolutely swol.

Right now me and my friends are going through a rough patch, I spend too much money and time on my friend Ivy, while I barely spend time with Jenny. It doesn’t help that they hate each other and refuse to be in the same room together. Ivy is super needy and texts me every day to hang out, which makes me irritable most of the time so I usually lie and say I’m working because I need my alone time. Jenny never texts me and I rarely see her cause she lives a couple towns over, and I don’t have my license yet so I always have to ask for a ride.

I’m hoping to get my license soon, but with this pandemic, it’s been nearly impossible to get an appointment set up. I have this old convertible Chrysler that my grandma gave me, it needs a new battery and hood, and before I take it in to get fixed, I have to scrub the inside down with bleach because of all the mold. It’s a really nice car though and I hope to have it running in a couple months. I have a bit of an energy drink addiction and right now I’m in love with these zero calorie, 300 mg caffeine drinks. I get the new red dragon flavor and it’s just a really good and smooth fruit punch flavor.

At my job, I’m the closing parcel, so i’m the guy pushing carts and cleaning the restrooms, though I refuse to clean the womens restroom after I had done my whole *knock knock* “HOUSEKEEPING, ANYBODY INSIDE?!?!?” routine, and nobody answered, so I walked in and in the first stall, a woman was...having some fun I guess, awkward thing was she stared me in the eyes and only did it more furiously, so I just don’t go in there anymore. My bosses are generally very pleasant and easy to work with, except for Big Bitch and Little Bitch, who I will not say their names as to not reference their names.

Big Bitch has no idea how to manage people, and has a thick accent that makes it very hard to understand him. He’s the one that tells me to go vacuum the front lobby when the cart bays are over flowing and people are complaining. Little Bitch has absolutely no empathy or awareness of his surroundings, he generally wanders off to go talk to customers or check his phone, while he lets the assistant manager do all the hard work of managing the front end. The assistant managers are the people I can actually respect, because they’re real people instead of an annoying character that only exists to make my day harder.

In general I don’t have to do much most days, and take long breaks because people often don’t use carts or make massive messes, you’d think they would but it’s only happen a couple times in the year i’ve worked here. At home I live in a repurposed bathroom, where the sink, bathtub, and toilet had all been removed and paved over to turn the room into an exceptionally large storage room, where I have a twin sized bed, a tv, and an xbox that I never play. Often at night, I can hear my parents having sex over my music because the walls are so thin. Getting drunk or high helps, but most days I just turn the tv up high or listen to music via my headphones.

I’m going to be switching to a flip phone, because I want to stop using social media as often, and I just think they’re cool. I love old tech. I’m making the switch after I get a laptop, so that i’ll still have a way to update this blog. Anyways I’ve, recently been getting into the occult, mainly to explain my prophetic dreams that are either random events that i’m going to experience or end of the world scenarios that happen in other universes. My mom had the ability to see and conjure the dead, and my brothers inherited that ability, but I didn’t. While i’m sensitive to the supernatural, I can’t perceive what’s around me, only what’s in my head

I initially thought it was some sort of schizophrenia the voices in my head, but even after taking anti psychotics and getting monthly injections, they never went away. I never told anybody though, because I don’t want to go to a hospital again. I’ve been trying to categorize and place the voices, but they’re not the same every time, and they’re not talking to me. They’re just talking, it’s like eavesdropping on a conversation that doesn’t exist, but yet some how, the information I hear is usually about the people around me, some random stuff, and me. I’m currently in the small break room, with an ear bud in my right ear and two conversations going on to my left.

One is my coworkers talking to each other, and the other one is a man talking to a woman, I don’t really know what it’s about but a few snippets are “Yeah I piss in the milk, they can’t tell though. I’ve managed to open a door, gonna try to do that again soon. I made about 3 kids cry again, honestly if I could I’d make a career out of it”

Just random things like that, in general though the conversation seems to be about somebody named and I don’t know how this is spelt so this is a guess, “Hephitus” I have no idea who that is, but it seems like they’re talking about a person. I hear this name every now and then, but they dropped this name a few times and in general it’s them just verbally shitting on him/her, pretty much what I do when i’m talking about somebody. I typically ignore these convos but right now i’m bored, so I got nothing better to do. I have to go back to work now though, so Imma go. I’m going to try posting daily, so let me know what you think. This has been Logan or LogNecro, and this is my blog

[cutegirlmayra]

A prompt. Can we have some modern tails and amy mother child moments? You can add sonamy on the sides. I really loved the other one :)

Cheery Cherry, may all your prompt wishes come true~ And I hope you don’t mind… but what if… Not Sonamy, necessarily,… but a ‘different’ love story? -eyebrow bounce-

Public announcement: PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN! PLEASE DON’T ASK FOR ANY TILL I REOPEN THEM! Thank you :)b

Prompt:

Amy was sweeping away in her home, finding that little critters kept wandering in, she would gently lead them outside and then look to see large holes in her walls from when Sonic and the gang came over and caused havoc.

She sighed, before the door swung open again.

Without even looking to see who it is, she slumped down and let out a frustrated groan, “Look, little guys. If I don’t finish cleaning this mess, then I’ll clean you all out of existence!” she swung around and swapped her broom for her hammer, before seeing Tails with his eyes red from crying and sniffling as he held the door open.

“Even you’re calling me names…”

“Tails!” she immediately dropped her hammer, “N-no, no, I wasn’t! I just thought you were-… uh, anyway, what’s wrong?” She struggled to explain herself, but then tossed the whole thing aside, leaning him in.

He fell face-first onto her couch, void of life it seemed, and mumbled into the cushions while his hands gestured around lazily to his sides.

“Tails, you absolutely know what butts have sat on that seat cushion.” Amy nonchalantly stated her warning as Tails immediately let out a gasp and pulled his face out from the seat cushion, sitting back properly this time.

“Yuck! Phoo! Phoo!” he spat and wiped his mouth.

“Now, you look like you’ve been crying.” Amy sprayed the spot his head at talked into and began to continue cleaning while he composed himself.

His two tails wrapped up around him as he attempted to hide himself and appear smaller. “It’s awful! I’ll never be able to show myself around Zooey again! Or any girl for that matter.”

“I’m a girl, Tails.” Amy unamusingly pointed out, wiping her table down.

“Well… not really, you’re like a… girl bro.”

She turned around, growling a moment.

“I-I-I mean, you’re the prettiest girl there is! But easy to talk to about things that well… n-normal dude bros can’t–or… don’t… talk about.” he broke out of his little insecure entanglement and waved his hands out in front of himself, before holding himself and leaning back on the couch.

“So, what happened with Zooey?” Amy went back to her chores, going to the dishes and pulling back her wraps around her arms to do so, getting into the bubbly water.

“…I met her friends…”

“And?” Amy didn’t seem to be picking up on what that implied.

“…And… They didn’t like me.”

Amy had just picked up the scrubber when she felt her whole house had collapsed onto her heart. At least, that’s how deep it felt.

“Didn’t…” she turned to look over her shoulder at him. “Like… you? Wh-wah-what do you mean?” she put the dish she was about to scrub back into the sink, giving Tails her full attention.

He turned quiet, his tails barely flopping like they would if he was happy.

The light tap of them made her strangely nervous, and she put the scrubber away, making it splash into the sink as she turned back to him, looking upset.

“Hmph.” She glared off to the side, biting her lip. “So… They don’t like decent men in this world?”

“Heh.” he smiled a moment, but then pulled up his knees and curled himself up again, turning his head away from her, sorrowfully. “To be honest… I don’t think they like her either.”

“What…” Amy put the dish away, her entire face softening as he said that.

“They weren’t exactly friendly or nice to her either.” He looked out the window, tilting his head. “Amy��� Why do girls insult each other so much? It doesn’t sound the same when dudes do it. When Sonic or Knuckles tease me, it makes me laugh and I can usually tease them back. Their smiles are different too… But when Zooey and I were talking, her–so called–friends’ smiles looked more like Eggman’s smirking… Zooey got real quiet too as they pulled her away from me… I wanted to reach out and get her away from them but she told me not too…”

“How did she say not too?” Amy, fully invested now in this story, sat down on the couch beside him.

He looked up, watery eyes again, “Please… don’t.” he ducked his head, as though ashamed.

“Like…” Amy leaned in closer, narrowing her eyes for understanding. “Please, don’t? Or Please… Don’t?”

“Is there a difference?” Tails looked up to her, as a new found rage swirled inside of Amy.

“Yes. A big one.” She walked back over to her hammer, picking it up as it was beside the broom. She didn’t even glance at the broom, her own troubles were not as severely crucial to the moment as what she had just heard. “I have a feeling those girls weren’t her friends, Tails.” she turned back to him.

“I think Zooey needs us.”

Worried, Tails got up and followed after her.

It took only a moment for Tails to show Amy the direction the girls ran off too, and once finding them, were appalled to see the girls flinging her own produce at her shop down on her.

They laughed as Zooey sat on the ground, covering her head as she was bombarded with juice spraying everywhere over her. Her shop wasn’t exactly structurally sound either, and when one girl tossed the watermelon, Zooey gasped as it hurt her shoulder and also hit one of the key posts for her roof.

“Ah!” she cried out, as the girls stepped back, seeing the structure come down.

“Tails! Get Zooey and that roof!” Amy cried out, “I’m gonna take care of these… These…” she ground her hammer’s stem into her tight grip around it, making hot heat sear through her hand… but it wasn’t burning lava quite like her eyes looked. “Girls…” she walked with purpose, justice and fury in her quake, and said those words as though a hissful curse.

Tails charged without another thought towards Zooey, “It’s going to be okay!” he comforted her, and flew up to catch the roof. Struggling, it almost looked like he wasn’t enough for the job.

“Tails! Oh no, be careful!” Zooey cried out, turning to look up at him. “Ohh!” more produce fell from their raised shelves as Tails began to find the strength, with the added weight now leveraged from the roof, to lift the shelter up.

“Z-Zooey!” he called down to her, his teeth clenched tightly to keep the roof up. “The beam!”

“Huh? Oh!” Zooey looked up from her cowering, before quickly grabbing the wooden staff that supported the roof and held it in place. “It’s ready, Tails!”

“Grrr…!” Tails squinted his eyes as he used the remaining muscle he had left to lower the roof gently back into place. As he flew down, he ‘phew’d a moment and sat back, breathing hard.

“A… Are you… okay?” He smiled to her.

“Oh, Tails… Tails, that was-! Oh!!” She covered her mouth several times as though too astonished by his feat for words, then wrapped her arms around him in great gratitude.

A blush crossed Tails’s face, before a sly boyish grin took hold and he looked the other way, “O-oh, yeah. It was nothing. I do this kind of stuff all the time. No need to worry about me.” He tried to sound as cool as Sonic, but was beaming from ear to ear with joy at her reaction.

She pulled away then, still looking scared, “I’m sorry I asked you to leave so abruptly. It really wasn’t you, Tails. Honest! I just didn’t want those girls to hurt your feelings…”

“But they were hurting yours!” He quickly sprung to his knees, clasping her hands in his own as she then looked down to the gesture and back up into his passionate eyes. “Zooey, I’m a hero! Y-y-yo-you’re… em, you should tell me if someone’s bullying you!” He opted to not say what he wanted too… but in his heart, he wanted so desperately for her to accept him as ‘her hero’. “If I knew those girls were so vicious towards you, I would have never left your side!”

“O-oh, Tails…” She ducked her head, turning to the side with a smile and blush, but there was still some doubt. “I… I just wanted to protect you.” she turned back to look at him, and in a sweet moment, Tails felt his heart melt into his crushing feelings.

“Zooey…”

“Tails…”

“Zooey…” He leaned forward a little more.

“Tails…” Her eyes drooped a little, leaning closer as well.

                                         “AMMMMYYYY!!!!”

“H-huh?” the two leaned back, away from each other and turned to see the girls shouting out for mercy and getting thrashed about by Amy’s hammer.

“And don’t you forget the name!” Amy shooed them away, then took in a deep breath, “Awhhh~ Awh~ Awh~” Amy suddenly sang, calling out to the forest as suddenly those same critters who she was ushering out–politely–the door before came bounding out the woods and heading straight to the girls.

They screamed and ran as the critters pursued.

Amy scoffed out her nose with a big blare of air, then held her hammer to her side, hitting it to the ground. “I can’t stand women like that. Letting their own cowardly emotions make prey of those sweeter than they are! Hmph! I curse the whole lot of them! When I’m a mother of daughters, I’ll-” she swung her hammer as though lecturing before turning around to see Tails walking up to her, Zooey’s hand in his.

“You’d make a great mother,… Amy.” Tails smiled warmly, his ears bending a bit as he confessed that. “Thank you.” he looked back to Zooey, who stepped forward to be beside him. “Without you, I wouldn’t have known what was really going on, or have saved Zooey in the nick of time.”

“Thank you, Miss Amy.” Zooey bowed a little, “I’m sorry I look this way but…”

“That’s not your fault.” Amy was suddenly horrified that she would apologize for something like that. She moved her hammer to the other hand and offered her own. “Come on, let’s get you all cleaned up. Tails? Mind tinkering with that stall?” Amy gave him a sly look in her eyes.

“Huh? But I don’t… OOOOOHHHHH…. Got’cha.” He winked back to her, seeming to now comprehend. “I’ll uh…” he let Zooey go into Amy’s hands, then staggered back as though a sneakily hiding what the two were planning, and cracked his knuckles out. “Just go get my tools then… Heh heh…” He snickered mischievously and was off like a rocket.

Zooey looked to Amy for an explanation, but Amy just sneered. “Come on, I have to be a good wingwoman now and tell you all the amazing things there are to know about Tails.”

“Oh, I’ve already seen so many amazing things in Miles…” Zooey raised a hand to her heart, blushing down into it. “It’s amazing to even think there could be more.”

Amy’s heart melted with that too, but she laughed and blushed with her, “I know how that feels.” she lightly reminisced about Sonic. “Also, since when does anyone call Tails, Miles?”

“Is that not… his name?” She seemed embarrassed, “I’m so sorry! Tails told me it was a nickname, and Miles does sound awfully…” she paused a moment, looking down to the ground and blushing even more red than before. “Precious…”

“Oh, you’ve got it bad.” Amy began to help her towards her door. “But you got it right, and that’s what’s important.”

“H-huh?” Zooey seemed confused on the context that Amy was implying, but seeing that, Amy just waved it off.

“Nothing. He’s Miles to you and Tails to us. But both are pretty precious friends, if you ask me.”

Later, the girls came back to the stall, all messy and scratched up from the implied critter fiasco.

“You… you… Hey, Vixen!” one of the girls called out to her.

Her tail shook out in her shock, as Zooey had cleaned up but wasn’t expecting them to come back so soon.

But now, Zooey lifted her cart and placed it down on the newly rebuilt shelf on the ground, raised so that people could sample the fruit, and looked mildly more agitated with the girls than before.

“Heh, what makes you think you can pull off that face with us, huh?”

“Yeah!” one of the other girls, still having a raccoon tugging her hair with its teeth as it seemed to be stuck there, “You don’t have your little heroes around this time! What are you gonna do now, huh?”

“I’ll always have my friends, right here with me.” She proudly put her hands to her hips, daring to even close her eyes to show her confidence in the situation.

The strange, new power from her made the girls hesitate a moment, before marching up to continue.

“I wouldn’t do that…~” She slightly chimed, as suddenly the entire stall began to transform and guns, rockets, and canons suddenly emerged from every nook and cranny of the wooden and shoddy stall.

Mechanism began to activate and the roof formed into the upper-half of a giant robot, his arms spread out and then pointing to the girls as though to activate the cannon fire.

The girls’ eyes shrunk.

“Not again.”

The fireworks were glorious.

And as the robot leaned his free hand down to Zooey, she giggled and stepped into it, letting it rise her up to the head.

“Thank you, Tails.”

On his home monitor back at his place, Tails blushed at the controls of the new Security Zooey Safety machine he had invented.

Amy, home again and washing dishes, was amazed to hear another knock at the door.

Opening it, she smiled as Tails wore an apron with a maid’s hat on, holding up a bucket of soapy water and some tools to fix the holes and other such things.

She patted his head, then let him in.

Her home was fixed up in no time, and Tails’s relationship was saved all in the same day~

[the-fandom-took-over-my-life]

The one where he blipped and you didn’t (Ch. 1)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Peter blipped. You didn’t. Now you’re both the same age and he’s confused by the kid he used to know and the girl you are now.

Word Count: 3k-ish

Warnings: Language, INFINITY WAR AND ENDGAME SPOILERS

A/N: Okay, this is Chapter One to this series. It’s a little long, I got carried away (sorry not sorry). Let me know what you think! Remember I also do requests, pls don’t get discouraged by my amateur profile, I’m still figuring it all out :)

Read the intro first

CHAPTER ONE

"Y/N, get your ass out of bed, you're going to be late." you heard Rhodey scold through your open door. 

"Language" you mumbled sleepily. 

"Goddamn- I don't have time for this." you heard him grumble under his breath and suddenly the fluorescent lights in your room switched on and you yelped in surprise, flinging the covers over your head. Rhodey chuckled and you heard your door swing shut. 

"If I come back in 20 minutes and you're still in bed, I'm going to personally fly you to school." he said through the door and walked away.

You smiled sleepily. Rhodey, though he was tough on you, cared about you like his own daughter. Nearly eleven years ago your mother had died in a car crash and you were sent to live with your father, Tony. You, being so young, were excited to finally meet your father. Tony, on the other hand, was a wreck. He had just announced to the world that he was Iron Man and the last thing he wanted was to take care of and raise a child, whether it be his or not. He had all intention of sending you off to boarding school but, when he met you, he refused to make the same mistakes his father did. You instantly melted his heart with your smile and your big E/C eyes. After deciding to take you in, he asked Rhodey to be your Godfather, not that he was a very religious man, he just wanted someone else to be there for you if there came a day that he couldn't. 

Deciding not to test Rhodey's threat, you rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Your reflection in the mirror, in the such loving words of Peter, looked as if death had walked over you...twice. It wasn't a secret that, since the battle and your dad's death, you haven't been sleeping well. Thankfully, nightmares were a thing of the past ever since Bruce gave you something that evaded them. You remembered waking up screaming, tears streaming down your face, causing Rhodey to come and calm you down in the middle of the night. Every night you were forced to relive a part of the battle, and every night you were forced to see your dad die. Now, your sleep was a void that, although lacked the trauma, was a difficult place to find peace.

You scrubbed your face and brushed your teeth, avoiding your face in the mirror, and walked back into your room. Not really in the mood to dress nice, you pulled on some black tights and a big sweatshirt that was draped over your desk chair. You slipped on your converse and walked back into the bathroom to put concealer under your eyes. The last thing your need is for one of your teachers to send your to the counselors office because of your physical appearance...again.

Deciding you looked presentable, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and started downstairs before rushing back to your room to grab your phone, still charging on your nightstand. You found 6 new messages. 

(1) Spider-thing: Hey are you gonna go to Flash's party tonight?

(2) Spider-thing: Don't tell me you slept in again

(3) Spider-thing: ok nvm I'll see u at school

(4) Ned: Hey Y/N u wanna go to Flash's tonight? 

(5) Ned: Peter might confess his undying love for u, u never know 

(6) Flash: Hope to see u at my party tonight I'll b waiting ;)

You rolled your eyes at Flash's text, and clicked the notification form Ned. 

Y/N: yeah right after he confesses his undying love for Flash 

He replied immediately, making you chuckle. 

Ned: I'm telling u, he's got it bad 4 u 

You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone in your back pocket. You found it funny; Ned's obsession with the idea of you and Peter as a couple, and sometimes you went along with it just to tease Peter, but that's all it was, teasing. Sure, he was hot and sweet and funny and, before the snap, these things nourished a major crush that bloomed in your little pre-teen heart. But things changed, you got older and, when he came back the same age as you, you had to remember that he probably still saw you as that little girl he used to babysit. 

~TIME SKIP~

"Bye Happy, I'll see you after school!" you said, blowing Happy a kiss as you closed the car door. Happy rolled down his window. 

"Call me if anything happens. Just call and I'll come and get you." 

"I will." you said watched him drive off. Happy was, despite the fact that it's been a few months since everything happened, still worried about you. You didn't mind it though, you loved him for it.

Sighing, you walked into the building that leered over you. For the first time today, you realized how heavy your backpack was and you made a beeline for your locker. You smiled sadly and recalled how Nat would always get after you for carrying too much and you would get the lecture about how, even though you were an Avenger, you still had to take care of yourself. You stacked the books in your locker, slammed the door shut, and found yourself face to face with Peter. 

"SHIT!" you shrieked as he howled with laughter. 

"You shoulda- you should have seen your face" he said between breaths. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved him into the lockers. 

"This isn't funny you idiot, I could have attacked you" you said despite the smile growing on your lips.

"I can take you Stark" he said, regaining his breath. 

"In your dreams Parker"

It was his turn to roll his eyes. It was then that you noticed the two coffee cups he held. You sighed in relief and gratefully took one from him. 

"Anyway, you ignored my texts this morning. You wanna go to the party?" he said falling in step with you as you walked towards your first class. 

"I don't know. Flash's parties always end with someone almost drowning in the pool or jumping off the roof." 

"Oh c'mon, let's go. Maybe this time it'll be Flash jumping off the roof and it'll put us all out of our misery." 

You couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled from your lips and you were about to reply when someone called you from behind. 

You both turned to see Brad Davis walking briskly towards you. You smiled at him and slowed your pace so he could catch up. 

"Hey Y/N, hey Peter." he said walking up beside you. 

"Sup" Peter grumbled. You sent him a sideways glare and turned to up at Brad.

Despite the numerous times you questioned Peter about his silent grudge against Brad, he could never give you a straight answer on why he hated him. "I don't trust him" he would always say, but you could never figure out why. Brad, like you, survived the snap and, because you were both in the same grade, became friends. 

"Are you guys going to the party tonight?" he asked.

"Jeez, is that the only thing everyone cares about?" you said jokingly.

"Well, it is the only good thing about high school" he said, making you laugh. 

Over the past couple of years, Brad was the person who got to hear all the complaints you had about high school. He had always been an annoyingly upbeat guy and he took all your complaints in stride, turning them into something that you should be grateful for. The last five years gave you very few things to be grateful for, but Brad was one of them. 

"You're definitely right about that. But, yeah we're planning on going" you said, slightly nudging Peter next to you.

"Awesome. I'll see you there then." Brad said and waved as he turned down a passing hallway. 

"Aw, I love Brad" you said fondly as you watched him disappear in the growing crowd of students. You looked up at Peter just in time to see him roll his eyes at your comment. You frowned at him, annoyed of his attitude. 

"Dude, seriously, what the hell is your problem?" 

 "Nothing. He just rubs me the wrong way I guess."  he said with a shrug.

It was your turn to roll your eyes.

 "Oh c'mon. you're just mad that he became hot while you were gone and now all the girls want him" 

"It's just weird. One day he was this tiny annoying kid and the next he's huge." Peter said before bringing his coffee to his lips. 

"Well it wasn't like that for all of us." you reminded him. "And how is that weird for you? You literally got bit by a spider and became hot overnight." 

At your words Peter choked on his coffee and coughed furiously, trying to breathe through the hot liquid. 

"Y-you think I'm hot?" he spluttered in disbelief 

For about the millionth time this morning, you rolled your eyes at him. 

"Dude, have you seen your abs? I had the biggest crush on you and your stupid hot spider muscles" you said with a smirk.

Peter stopped in his tracks in the middle of the hall and stared at you with huge eyes.

 "You had a crush on me?" 

 "Yeah, when I was like 13. You don't think I actually needed so much help on my algebra homework, did you? What's the matter with you?" you said laughing

Peter was staring at you like you had just dropped from another planet.

"I-I just never knew you felt that way about me." he said, eyes still wide.

You rose your eyebrows at him. 

"Yeah, well, I was a kid. I also thought the tooth fairy was real. I grew up. Anyway, let's forget that I was once a pre-teen and move on."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at you, but let the subject go. He walked quietly beside you and barely even acknowledged you when you turned into your calculus class, telling him you'll see him later. Confused, you shot a text to Ned.

Y/N: Dude Peter's being weird

Ned: He's always weird what's ur point? 

Y/N: true

Y/N: ur right, nvm I'll see u at lunch

Ned: cool

Accepting that Ned was right, you chose to forget about Peter and try to focus on the party that awaited tonight as your teacher started the lecture. 'Derivatives' you thought with a smirk, 'what child’s play”.

~TIME SKIP~

"Alright losers, we'll meet at Peter's place at 7 then, right?" you said as the three you you walked out of the school's parking lot.

"Yeah definitely. I'm thinking about bringing back my hat. Betty says it compliments my face structure, whatever that means." Ned said, earning a laugh form you. 

"Earth to Peter. You are being uncharacteristically quiet" you said to Peter who was staring into space as you walked.

"Sorry, right. My place at 7." he said, jolting from his daze.

You eyed him, but, before you could question his behavior, you heard a familiar honk and turned around to see Happy waiting for you. 

"I'll see you guys tonight." you said with a wave, and walked toward the car. 

Peter watched the car drive away, and as soon as it disappeared down the road, he turned to Ned. 

"Y/N used to have a crush on me!" he blurted out. 

Ned furrowed his eyebrows. "Okay, and?"

"What do you mea- she used to like me! Like, like me like me" Peter said 

Ned smirked 

"And you're so freaked out about this why?" 

Peter stared at him. "I don't know. It's just weird"

"Or is it because you just found out that the girl you are head over heels for used to have a crush on you?" 

Peter rolled his eyes. 

"I do not have a crush on Y/N, how many times to I have to tell you. And, anyway, I'm not freaked out, it's just weird." 

"Sure Peter." 

~TIME SKIP`

You knocked on the door to Peter's apartment and dusted yourself off, waiting for someone to answer. You were excited to get to the party and relax for the first time this week. You looked down at your outfit for about the millionth time and inspected it. You were wearing a black sheer long sleeve with a solid black stripe around your chest and a pair of distressed light wash skinny jeans and black platform doc martin boots.

You were adjusted the hem of your top when May opened the door and immediately enveloped you in a big hug. 

"Y/N how are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in so long." 

You had actually seen her last week, but you smiled at her comment. 

"I'm good May. Are the boys here?" you asked, walking into the apartment.  

"Yeah they are in Peter's room. Maybe you can help Peter find something to wear, he's more indecisive than I am." she chuckled. 

"I'll see what I can do." you said with a chuckle and walked toward his closed door but stopped when you heard them talking.

"It's obvious that you like her Peter, all you have to do is tell her.” you heard Ned say through the door. 

Peter had a crush on a girl? Why hasn't he told you about it? You didn't really know how to feel about this new information. Peter was your best friend and, sure he had every right to like who he pleases, but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt. You were always the only girl in his life, even when you were younger, and you couldn't imagine Peter with anyone else. I mean, you’re not dating or anything. But, it was not your decision to make, and with that final thought, you pushed your feelings aside and opened the door to reveal Peter standing in the middle of the room in just his boxers.

"Y/N!" he shouted, his face turning beet red. 

"Oh relax Peter, it's not like I've never seen you like this" you said with a playful smirk.

It was true, you were always the one to patch him up after a bad patrol. 

"Anyway, May told me that you couldn't figure out what to wear so I've come to the rescue." you said and walked past him to his closet. 

Peter, for the first time, realized what you were wearing and his face flushed even darker. He took in you sheer top that showed your stomach and back and the skinny jeans that accented your...

"Y/N you look really nice" Ned piped up from the bed, wiggling his eyebrows at his visibly flustered friend. 

"Aw thank you Ned" you said, turning from the closet with an armful of clothes which you handed to Peter who refused to meet your eyes.

 "Okay, put this on" you said to Peter, and walked out of the room to chat with May in the meantime. 

"May, has Peter talked to you about any girls recently?" you said as you walked into the kitchen where she was drying dishes. 

She looked up and gave you a faux look of surprise. 

"No, not recently. Why do you ask?" she said, handing you the plate she was holding. 

She, like Ned, also had her suspicions about the relationship between you and Peter. She’d always noticed the way Peter looks at you and the way his face just lights up whenever she mentions you. She, too, thought the pair of you would make a great couple.

You went to put the plate in it's respective cabinet and shrugged. "I don't know, I was just wondering." 

She smiled at you. "I don't know, I always thought he would end up with you." she said slyly, picking up another dish. 

Your eyes widened, and you were about to answer when Peter appeared in the doorway. He was wearing the simple outfit you had picked for him: dark blue jeans and a black tee shirt. You couldn't help but admire how the shirt accented his abs and his toned arms. 

"You look good Pete." you said and chuckled at the light blush that dusted his cheeks. 

"just one more thing" you said as you walked up to him and reached for his head. He leaned back and looked down at you in confusion. 

"Oh c'mon, don't you trust me? I won't bite." you said, smiling. 

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but leaned back toward you and you carded you fingers through his hair, mussing it up. 

You fixed you attention on his hair and you missed the way he closed his eyes and leaned into your relaxing touch. He was also acutely aware of how close you were to him and the intoxicating smell of your perfume. 

"You guys ready?" Ned said suddenly from behind, and you pulled away, ending the moment Peter was relishing. 

You stepped back and admired your work. "What do you think May?" you said without taking your eyes off of him. 

"He's never looked better" she replied teasingly and Peter rolled his eyes as you laughed. 

"Yeah, can we just go already?" he said, faking annoyance and smiled at you. 

"Yeah, let's go!" you said and you grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the door, Ned and May trailing behind you, sharing a knowing glance. 

You led him through the hallway, toward the exit and Peter tried his hardest to ignore the tingling in his hand as it held yours. He didn't want to admit it, but, recently, he couldn't remember what is was about you that reminded him of a sister. It was becoming harder to see you as the little 13 year old he used to know, but he couldn't tell Ned that yet. He didn't want to have to deal with any 'I told you so's right now, so he just relished the feeling of your hand in his and, for the first time this week, began to really look forward to the party. 

[void-tiger]

Gentron Week: Days 1-3

Characters: Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane, Ryou “Jiro” Shirogane

Prompts: Bed-Sharing/Sleepovers; Clothes-Sharing; Soulmate AU (sorta), Hand-Holding

Canon Compliant?: NOPE! Not even a little, although canonical events are referenced.

Other Notes: ...I started this with Sunday’s prompt, got behind, then realized that it fit with the first three days, anyway. Hope that’s alright.

He’d been back for almost a phoeb now, thanks to the combined efforts of Jiro, his Team, and his Lion. And after he got back there was a bit of a scramble trying to sort out immediate things like Lion bonds, then of course the much more mundane ones as well. Like sleeping arrangements. Clothes. Who owned what with the small stockpile of belongings after months-to-years in space between them and the lines already blurred.

When they first rescued Shiro from the Void of Black Lion’s inner quintessence field, there hadn’t been time to figure these things out beyond who flew with Black and their Team. And after that what time hadn’t been spent fleeing Haggar’s repeated assaults was spent running repeated tests over both Jiro and Shiro for any lasting “presents” left by the witch, or any lasting damage from his time spent suspended at the subatomic level for so long. Then remedial drills as well as he reintegrated back into the Team and they had to relearn how to form Voltron...again.

But after they exhausted every drill, and after they could confidently form yet a third version of Voltron with their current Team (Shiro was disheartened to learn about Keith defecting to the Blades after his stint as Voltron’s leader. He still hoped to reach his friend, to let him know he was still alive, that the Team and Shiro both wanted him to return home), and after Allura and Coran were finally confident that both Shiroganes had a clean bill of health (and NO nasty spells and implants leftover) ...they could finaly rest.

Only, they still hadn’t sorted through who owned what. Or who even had bigger claim to Shiro’s old room. 

But like with his bond with the Black Lion, Jiro practically shoved Jiro into his old room, only pausing long enough to grab himself a fresh set of bedclothes, with Lance insisting Jiro crash with him. (Shiro was pretty sure that the tank and sleep pants he himself had ended up wearing actually belonged to Jiro. Not him.) But sleeping alone in a dark, quiet room proved unbearable. It was too easy for Shiro to return to that listless floating he experienced while suspended in the Void, body free from all the aches and pains he’d long since reconciled as his “normal” but only his mind kept intact. 

Well, mostly.

Only...

Soft, steady snores competed with his own gulped and held shallow panting. His right side felt lopsided and pinned down by a weight that wasn’t from his now-absent Galran prosthetic. And for all the Black Lion’s efforts to make him comfortable while he was stored as atoms within the Lion’s quintessence, he’d never felt warm. Or felt anything at all, really. And the Lion’s quintessence certainly hadn’t smelled like laundry detergent. Come to think of it, Shiro didn’t quite remember making it back to his bunk.

Slowly his eyes adjusted to the Castle’s night cycle gloom. Soft green light cast shadows against his sleeping clone’s pale skin, ragged scar, and inky black hair. Shiro felt his eyes flutter closed as they were dragged down by tiny, but dense, dense weights. Like mini neutron stars. Shiro felt himself lulled back to sleep, drifting not in Voltron’s Void, but the innocence of stars that space once held for him.

In the morning, neither spoke about the previous night. But to his bemusement the room had somehow converted into holding two stacked bunks where there was only one previously overnight.

.

Jiro wrenched himself awake with a silent scream. His sheets stuck to his skin thanks to a dripping sheen of cold sweat as well as lay tangled around his legs and feet. As did the image still vivid behind his mind’s eye

He scrubbed his face furiously and sniffed reflexively, glaring at his ruined bedding. Even if the could get back to sleep again, no way was he going to be able to sleep in that. With measured movements in an attempt to not shake the shared alcove and wake his brother in the upper bunk, Jiro softly set his bare feet down against the frigid floor. He then cautiously groped his single hand in the dark until he finally felt a bed corner, then tugged. The mattress rose about half an inch before slamming back down. Jiro barely bit back a curse.

The sheets, however, stayed firmly tucked for all his trouble. Naturally. Yet another reminder about Why He Needed His Own Prosthetic. Or at least his own bayard. He’d prefer not borrowing Shiro’s.

The sheets above him rustled as he heard Shiro stifling a yawn. “Jiro, what are you doing.”

Jiro winced. “N-nothing,” he murmured as he fought to keep his voice steady. “Go back to sleep.”

“Ry.”

Jiro knew that tone. That sympathetic I’m the Black Paladin and Leader and Your Big Brother so you better tell me And Deal With It tone.He’d used it himself against Shiro more than once. He hated being on the receiving end. Especially when Shiro felt the need to switch to using some form of “Ryou” to further his point. “Just remaking my bed,” Jiro hedged.

“At 2:30 in the morning?” Takashi pressed.

Jiro remained silent. The bunk shifted as Shiro’s feet scraped against the rungs. Shiro gently nudged his brother to scoot over with his right shoulder. Jiro obliged. He heaved an exasperated sigh when Shiro immediately started untucking the sheets and gathering them into the center of the mattress as one, wadded bundle.

Of course Shiro could. Shiro had a bayard that could double as an arm while they both waited for new prosthetics.

“Nightmare or memory,” Shiro asked abruptly.

Jiro squeezed his eyes shut. “Vision,” he finally choked out in a strained whisper. “I’ll just...” Jiro cleared his throat thickly as he grabbed the damp bundle of sweaty bedding. 

“Ry,” Shiro called again. “We can deal with that tomorrow.”

“But--” 

Shiro tossed a fresh set of bed clothes at him, forcing Jiro to drop the bundle as he reflexively tried to catch the set thrown at him with his non-dominant hand. Jiro shot Shiro a baleful glare. Shiro toothily grinned.

“Fine,” Jiro mumbled through a faceful of pantleg, then stalked out of the room and into the bathroom to change. He flipped the light on, immediately wincing at the sudden, harsh light, then glanced down at the set Shiro tossed at him. It wasn’t a fresh tank and sweatpants, oh no. It was that quiznacking Black Lion Onesie, with the right sleeve already zipped off.

When Jiro returned, he found Shiro sitting crosslegged atop a newly remade bed with fresh sheets, face illuminated by the glow of a datapad resting in Shiro’s lap while he rested his chin in his left hand. The bayard sat deactivated on top of the bed next to him.

“You’re gonna kill your eyesight that way,” Jiro snarked.

Shiro glanced up and shrugged nonplussed. “It’ll get fixed again by the next pod visit.”

Jiro balled up his discarded pajamas and chucked them at Shiro. They struck Shiro’s face with a wet-sounding smack before landing in his brother’s lap.

“Okay, first of all, gross,” Shiro drawled dryly. “Second, is that the thanks I get for remaking your bed, brother dearest?”

“You earned that and you know it,” Jiro dead panned.

“Fair.”

Shiro wadded up the sweaty clothes, then tossed them at the heap of used bedding already shoved into a corner. However, he still didn’t budge from Jiro’s bunk.

Jiro sighed in exasperation. “Look...I appreciate you putting my bed back together, but are you gonna move or not.”

“Not just yet, Ry,” Shiro said seriously.

Jiro swallowed. “Ryou” again. That didn’t bode well. “Alright...” he said apprehensively. “But no way can I sleep between the sheets in this thing. It’s way too stuffy.”

Shiro chuckled softly with a small smile. “You don’t get it, do you.”

“Apparently not, unless you tell me,” Jiro huffed impatiently.

“You’re right, that thing is way too hot to sleep in--”

“Think you do need your eyes checked, afterall,” Jiro interjected sardonically.

“Hush,” Shiro scolded lightly with a playful swat to the back of Jiro’s head. Jiro continued to glare balefully, but without any real heat to it.

“--but that’s not exactly the point,” Shiro continued. “The Team made that for me when they threw an impromptu surprise slumber party.”

“...And think you need a reminder of the definitions of ‘impromptu’ and ‘surprise’,” Jiro remarked. “And yes, I do remember.” He tapped his temple. “So what’s your point.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “It’s the Team’s reminder that I’m not alone to sort things. that they--and the Black Lion--are always gonna be there if they can. And I’m reminding you that that extends to you, too.”

Jiro’s eyes squeezed shut as he tensed around the way his breathing tried to hitch. The vision, which already left him raw, flashed resh into his mind’s eye once again. As did the loss of his Lion Bond--or rather, how he never had one, not really--although technically he knew that wasn’t Shiro’s intention. Shiro wasn’t that cruel. His hand clenched around the fabric pocket of the onesie until his knuckles turned white.

“Hey,” Shiro called again urgently. “You still with me?”

Jiro nodded stiffly. He gulped down more air as he tried to stuff down the impending sob that threatened to erupt out. A hitched hiccup escaped instead for his trouble.

Gently Shiro unwound Jiro’s hand from his death grip against the fabric until he could hold Jiro’s hand in his own, shifting so that his good arm and shoulder could support his brother. “I’m sorry. That didn’t help, did it,” Shiro murmured apologetically.

Jiro shook his head furiously. A few traitorous tears leaked out to trail down his cheeks and nose and stinging the ragged scar across his face, before splattering against the tacky thing. Jiro felt Shiro hug him tighter, promptint the violent sob to finally escape. Shiro simply held him closer, but thankfully one-armed. Jiro didn’t know how he’d react if the bayard shifted into Shiro’s prosthetic and rubbed it in even further.

“Which one was it?” Shiro asked softly.

“They chose you,” Jiro finally bit out around his sobbing. “She...the witch. She tu-turn-ned me against them. I wasn’t...I wasn’t strong enough to stop her! A-and they chose you!”

Shiro’s eyes closed. Of course it was that vision, which happened to be his own worst nightmare. Of course, despite his best intentions, lending the silly onesie only made things worse. But, secretly Shiro was glad that Ryou was processing things this way, instead of...

Jiro’s tears gradually slowed into steady, shallow hiccups as they finally spent. For now. Snot and saline still continued to flow from his eyes and nose. Jiro’s face wrinkled in disgust and embarrassment. Shiro wordlessly passed him a box of tissues from the alcove’s shelf. Jiro accepted it and sniffed.

“But how have things happened in this Reality?” Shiro finally said softly.

“They...the Team found you,” Jiro answered hesitantly with a sniff. “I didn’t have to die.”

Shiro hummed his confirmation. “And you were the one to find me. The Black Lion placed the bracelet Princess Allura made me around that prosthetic,” Shiro reminded him. “And you never hurt anyone. Our Team found another way to...” Shiro faltered, then swallowed thickly. “...to bring me home.”

Shiro felt Ryou nod against him. Good. Maybe his words were reaching his twin.

“And even if that did happen, it wouldn’t be your fault. Not now. Not ever.”

A spike of anger shot through Jiro’s chest as a memory of a different vision shoved its way forward. Shiro’s voice through his lips. Lance not contradicting him. No one contradicting him. But he swallowed that resentment back down. Shiro didn’t need to know. He’d sort that one out on his own, or take it to the grave.

Jiro felt Shiro staring at him in bemusement, but thankfully his brother didn’t push it.

“Besides,” Shiro continued. “Is Allura responsible for what Empress Allura has done?”

“No,” Jiro ground out vehemently.

“Then neither is our Team. This Team would never do that. And if for what ever reason they did try it, I’m eating my arm. Then kicking their butts no-handed.”

Despite himself Jiro laughed. And silently he supposed that Shiro’s logic applied to Shiro and That Other Shiro as well (the Shiro that wasn’t him...quiznack this was complicated.) Somehow they had avoided That Reality, although Jiro desperately wished that he wasn’t the one dealing with all the aftershocks as space and time realigned and knitted itself back together. Not that he’d with that on anyone... (the witch included. Especially the witch. He shuddered to think about what she could do with that knowledge.)

“...okay,” Jiro finally whispered tightly. “Although then you really would have two robot arms.”

Shiro barked out a laugh then reached over and tapped Jiro’s right stump. “Technically I already did. Or will.”

Jiro chuckled again, then yawned. Exhaustion dragged at every joint and limb. The vision and his outburst left him feeling emotionally wrung out and spent, but he was still suspicious if sleep would come. Or what it would hold this time.

Shiro released him, then laid down on this side, scooting until his back was flush against the alcove wall and left Jiro with most of the room on the narrow mattress. Jiro rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. He placed the tissue box, abandoned datapad, and Shiro’s bayard back onto the alcove shelf above them, passed the folded throw blanket at the foot of the bed to his belligerent brother--really, that should’ve been the first thing to clue him in as to Shiro’s intentions--and settled in on Shiro’s other side. Shiro poked Jiro’s left shoulder and grinned.

Jiro huffed a laugh. “You’re impossible.”

Shiro merely grinned harder. “You know you love me, Roo,” Shiro teased in sing-song.

Jiro rolled his eyes then shoved Shiro’s shin with his foot. “Keep telling yourself that, Kashi.”

“Hey!” Takashi squawked indignantly. “No kicking allowed!”

 “Technically this was your idea,” Ryou snorted. “You should’ve know better, older brother dearest,” he added sweetly.

“I’d say I should ask the witch for a new twin, but I’d rather not know how many more models she made,” Takashi grumbled.

Jiro scooted closer to Shiro. Shiro gently nudged him back to make more room. Jiro obliged, then rested his head under Shiro’s right stump.

“We’ll get her back for that...right?” Ryou asked tentatively.

“Definitely,” Takashi growled. “And I’d pay good GAC to see Allura saiyan blast that witch at least once when we do.”

“Think I could get Hunk to make a popcorn basket to hold over that?” Ryou quipped.

“Dork,” Takashi laughed.

“Technically you’re calling yourself that, Shiro.”

“Mmm. And who recently actually took tactical advice from Return of the Jedi?”

“...I’m glad you’ve forgiven me for that,” Jiro said softly.

Shiro nudged him gently with his shoulder. “I’m still not happy about that, no,” he admitted. “But...I understand. I’m not sure what I would’ve done instead if in your shoes, honestly.”

“Well, thanks for that, anyway,” Jiro mumbled.

“Hey. It all worked out. And regardless as to why or how, I’m glad that you’re my brother.”

“I’m guessing that you’re meaning--?”

“Both, yeah.”

Jiro grinned inwardly. He opened his mouth to reply, but Shiro’s breathing had already slowed to soft, steady snores.

He’d have preferred having his own thoughts and own memories and own identity from the start, he mused. And he’d definitely have preferred being born Shiro’s real twin instead of subbing as a replacement for a stillborn one. But...at least this way he could understand Shiro a bit better. In a sense the two had shared a soul for a time, albeit not quite as literaly as in That Other Reality. And besides: what better way to use Haggar’s “gift” than to better protect and support his brother?

With one final, vindictive grin Jiro felt himself drift to sleep, lulled by the slow, gentle thuds of a twin heartbeat.

[nunya-busy-ness-you-mess]

I Don’t Want Your Photograph - DESTIEL

Changes - David Bowie "Turn And Face The Strange"

It was a daily thing; the ache in the back and neck. A thing that was a constant reminder of exhaustion from traveling on the road and being in discomfort sitting or laying in the seats of the old 1967 Chevy Impala. Even when they weren't traveling Dean could feel the exhaustion. The ache in stiffened joints and the smell of stale fries that were trapped underneath the seats.

Dean stretched his arms outwards, lacing his fingers in the process and bringing them forward, away from him. He cracked his knuckles his young primed body popping quietly as he stretched. He had been woken up to his ecstatic little brother that sat in the back seat of the Impala.

Sam beamed at him, eager to get inside the house. Sam climbed out of the car, leaving the door open, and ran with his tattered, dingy, orange duffel bag to the rickety, graying porch. John Winchester was renting the house for a while since he finally managed to find work.

Dean turned to his father that had called him over to the trunk of the car, he climbed out of the Impala and closed the passenger door. "Sir?" he looked to his father.

"Help your brother inside and take this case inside," John ordered, his voice low.

"Yes, sir." Dean lifted the suitcase from the trunk, avoiding eye contact as he took the keys from his father.

Dean looked at the house. It was a small, family-sized, white, two-story house. The white paint had begun to turn a dingy gray and had a few chipped spots off the wood siding. The porch was bowing and shaking beneath his weight as he walked up the steps towards the door. Guess this would be home for the while, maybe a week at tops.

He sighed as he set the case down and fiddled with the keys to unlock the door. The key stuck in the lock, as expected, it hadn't been used in years at the most. Finally, he managed to get the door unlocked and set the keys of the windowsill. Sam ran inside and up the stairs, most likely choosing his room.

Dean carried the suitcase in and stood in the doorway, getting a whiff of the musty mildew, and settled tar covered walls. Most likely from the previous renters of many years before that had smoked, slowly shading the walls yellow-brown with smoke.

"Common, Dean, outta the way."

Dean moved out of and from the doorway giving his father room to enter with a load of boxes. Dean went up the stairs, suitcase in hand, he steered himself away from the master bedroom and turned to the nearest room, which was empty. Sam knew their constructed rules; Always take the room furthest from dad's. It's a just in case matter of escape for the two of them, in case John gets off his I'm-Drunk-Off-My-Rocker moods.

They had always managed to end up in Sioux Falls. John had a few friends that lived around that could check on Dean and Sam while he was at work or away on one of his benders. Bobby Singer was regularly the one to do it. Dean was always at ease with the older man.

Bobby had come over that evening to help the Winchester’s unpack and put necessities in place. He had even checked the plumbing since there was a leak in the bathroom faucet, allowing Dean to help because as he put it “Even idjits need to know a way around rusting pipes.”

Dean was always relaxed when it came to working with his hands, he especially liked working on cars. He learned everything about cars that he could between Bobby and John. At one of his old schools he ended in the Auto-Tech classes and was working his way to being a licensed mechanic, but that changed when they moved away a week before his test. It had infuriated him, but he never told his dad his plan, not like the man would care anyway. So it was just another thing he would “let go”.

He was handing Bobby tools this time around though, so he ended up twiddling his fingers or rubbing the tools until Bobby asked for them.

“What’s eatin’ ya, kid?” Bobby’s voice woke him from his thoughts, “Ya seem antsy.” he looked at the man under the sink, then looked away again. Dean fiddled with the wrench in his hand, the metal cool against his fingers.

“School,” he mumbled, staring at the greasy grooves on the tool. Bobby huffed and sat up from under the sink.

“Ya’ know you can talk to me,” Bobby trailed off, “Is it about your daddy?”

Dean shook his head and sighed, “Just tired.”

“Mhm,” Bobby hummed, “Well, whenever you wanna talk about your old man, talk.” he grabbed another tool and moved the pipe to the side, “You can go on to your room, take a rest.”

“You sure?” Dean checked Bobby’s face for another order for a new tool or to see if it was a joke.

“‘Course I’m sure, you’ve been traveling for about a week, and you ain’t doin’ no good being in here twiddling your thumbs and bending my tools.” Bobby barked a tease, a gleam in his eye.

Dean smiled lightly to Bobby, “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Now go on, ya idjit.”

Dean stood and left the bathroom. The bathroom he knew he would be scrubbing down the next day. Not because he had to, but because who knew when the last time it had been cleaned and God knows who had lived there before them.

He entered his room, dust was settled on the bedframe and old dresser that was left over from the last family. Today was productive in travel, fixing and unpacking, but he never slowed down enough to actually unpack anything in his room. He opened his window to let some air in and just decided to spread a blanket down across the full-sized bed and lay on it, he wasn’t much for covers anyway, he was sure he’d be warm enough in his hoodie. He laid out in a supine position, staring at the popcorn ceiling.

The window behind him drafted in an orange-tinted light through old, white-yellowed, sheer curtains from the light pole by the driveway, giving him a detailed view of the textured wall. The wind outside whistled and howled as it passed the house and through his window making the curtains float around him, allowing some gray-blue moonlight in. He let out a deep breath and had inhaled back in cool, dust-filled air.

Maybe tomorrow he’d be able to go into the small town and walk around the town square after he cleaned up. He and Sam could look for a diner-restaurant and hang out while their dad was away. He might even be able to get a job before school started out, meet some students if any hung around the town. Maybe tomorrow will be more at ease for them both. Maybe tomorrow would be different. Changes are hopefully happening here.

Some Kind Of Monster - Metallica "Some Kind Of Monster"

Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide, illness, sickness and panic attacks

Dean looked out to the gray field, he turned around at the sound of thunder behind him. Behind him a pale woman in a tattered nightgown stood just a few feet from him, whispering. Her hair blowing in the wind and framing her features and intense gaze towards him.

He called to her, but words didn’t form from his lips, his voice muted beneath the harsh blowing wind and thunder. It whistled past him, stinging his eyes and tufting up his hair, he blinked away the tears that had begun to coat his eyes, the thunder rushing through his body like a bass drum. She screamed at him and his tears began to fall.

Screaming, shrieking, she was suddenly at the tree, standing on a bucket below a thick branch. He called to her again and ran to her, but his voice was projected into an empty void and he wasn’t fast enough to get to her. She still continued to scream like he was some kind of monster.

She kicked the bucket below her and in that instant, the rope around her frail neck snapped from her weight and she was left hanging and swinging to the wind, she was brought to silence. Thunder sounded and a blinding stream of light struck the tree. The tree leaves emitted themselves into flame and the branches into an obsidian charcoal.

He fell to his knee, hot tears falling down his cheek and screamed at her. Lightning struck again, blinding him. It flashed before his very eyes beside him this time, giving him a buzzed feeling after it cracked a roar making his ears ring. He looked to the heavens seeing another stream of light barreling downwards to him. Right for him.

Dean woke up his chest heaving and aching in panic, he sat up and opened the drawer of his side table and relieved himself of the bile that came up from the pits of his stomach. He shakingly wiped his mouth and the chill of the wind on his drenched back sent goosebumps up onto his arms. His chest heaved again and he spits in the drawer, cringing at the acidic taste and the tears that beaded in his eyes.

He had that dream countless nights lately, whenever he was in a new place that wasn’t a motel, that dream...that nightmare came back to him. Came back more haunting and realistic it left him sicker each time. He could almost taste the smoke behind his tongue from the burning tree in his dream and could almost feel the ache for a solid, clean breath. It seemed that the heaviness of the smoke stuck in his lungs forever.

He rose from the bed and went to the bathroom. He closed the creaking door softly, turning the doorknob so it wouldn’t click shut in the eerily quiet hallway and turned on the light after closing it. He turned the faucet, the knob squeaking, hurting his ears and the water fell into his hands. He managed to swish some in his mouth and spit it out, he repeated this process until the acid was from his mouth. He huffed and collected more, splashing his face. Head down he looked at himself.

His gaze met his reflection, his cheeks sallow and skin seemed grey under the lighting, the sweat on him gave his skin a sickish, green glow, he wasn’t sure if the color was from his eyes or the horrid, green tile flooring. He swallowed as he looked at himself, he looked like a frail, broken boy, that was ready to break or who had done horrid things. He looked like some kind of monster. He sighed at himself and brushed his teeth.

After he finished he looked at his watch, it read 4:47 a.m. He huffed, bracing his arms on the counter, thumbs flat against the surface. Might as well stay up, John will be up to leave for work. He quietly made his way downstairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath his weight.

“Dean.” John’s voice bellowed, “Whattaya doin’ up?”

Dean turned to his father who was at the top of the steps, “Gonna make a grocery list and get out there before Sammy wakes up.”

His father stared, “You had that dream again, didn’t ya?”

Dean sighed, looking at the wooden step, he was going need to sweep them or the dust and dirt sticking to his feet would drive him crazy, “Yes, sir.” he answered.

“I assume you got sick then?”

“Yes, sir.” He looked up, shoulders tensing up to stand straighter, “I was going down to make a list and then clean it up.”

“Been takin’ your medicine?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered without hesitation, his eyes focusing on his fathers. His father hummed as he stared back, focusing on his son. Dean took his father’s stare as a way of his father studying him to see if Dean was lying to his father.

“Well, continue...” John bellowed, turning to the restroom, “I’ma get ready for work.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean sighed out, continuing his way down the last of the creaking steps.

[Continue] 

[sunevial]

The Strings That Bind Us Together: A Needed Vacation

Chapter 3 of the Follower’s Sequel, set in @internetremix ‘s DMP universe. Featuring @miss-goggles​ character, Murder God! Hope you all enjoy!

Warm sunlight beat down on the white sand and crystal clear waters, making the air shimmer and sparkle in the midday sun. Palm trees lazily swayed in the wind, catching the incessant cheering of scantily clad volleyball players and passed out sunbathers. Anyone who wasn’t playing in the sand was holed up in the little tiki bar off to the side, the dark wooden paneling fitting the mood of the patrons trying to drown out their sorrows with alcohol, including a woman with short blonde hair nursing a glass of bourbon.

“Hello there dear, enjoying the vacation?” Old Priestess asked, walking behind the bar counter and grabbing a cocktail glass. Humming a little tune under her breath, she picked up a few bottles and poured the contents into a shaker. “And bourbon? Really? I was under the impression that hell would have to freeze over before you’d drink hard liquor.”

“I was just robbed of a long game and Vincent is being an ass and I know that bastard is planning something but I have no proof, I am a desperate woman Old Priestess,” Murder God said in something between an annoyed sigh and an honestly rather cute growl. She screamed in frustration and pushed the glass across the counter, planting her head into the polished wood. “It’s not like I can get drunk anyways.”

“What are you feeling, dearest? Death in the Afternoon, Spider’s Kiss, Devil’s Poison?”

“Which is most likely to not taste awful?”

“Spider’s Kiss it is then,” Old Priestess said with a chuckle, grabbing the chocolate syrup and melon liqueur.

“Please tell me Young Priest’s training went well, I need a piece of good news right about now,” Murder God mumbled, rubbing her temples with her perfectly manicured fingers. “Also, what in the actual hell are you wearing?”

“You’re the one that made the beach episode, love. I’m just fitting the theme” Old Priestess replied, sliding the drink across the counter and taking a sip of her own questionably tasting drink. Her normal long, flowing garments had been replaced with a simple flower patterned bathing suit, covered by a see through magenta sarong and light windbreaker. “But I think our newest colleague will be more than ready for the big day. He’s given us quite the enthusiastic showing.”

“Good,” Murder God said through gritted teeth, sitting back up and snatching the drink up. Tipping it back, she drank far more of the cocktail than she should’ve in one gulp. “At least that’s one less thing I need to worry about.” She set the glass down, now almost half empty and smelling very strongly of vodka. “Speaking of which, where is he? And the rest of them? Did you lose them again?”

“Dearie, I’m not that irresponsible. They’re further off down the beach with Nebbie,” Old Priestess said with a casual hand wave, motioning to a little cove through the window. In the distance, a large comically light blue whale was surfaced just off of the coast, the small forms of the Followers lounging in the distance. On the whale themself were Witch and Huntress, the former sporting a frilled purple bikini with orange flowers while the latter covered her simple black swimsuit with a gray t-shirt. Further in, Advisor was dangling his toes into the water with a red and white towel at his side, dressed in a dark purple swim shirt and dark red swim shorts. Lieutenant was seated next to Advisor, sporting just a simple pair of blue swim trunks that exposed a web of horizontal scars crossing his back. The only outlier was Young Priest, dressed just the same as always and reading a book under a large umbrella.

“Oh good, they’re with the void whale, that’s so much better,” Murder God mumbled, drinking more of her cocktail and sighing as she watched the shenanigans go down.

“Need me to take over for a bit again?” Old Priestess asked, pushing her glasses further up her nose and opening her eyes in little slits to let the summer sunlight dance within her irises. “I do love running them. Reminds me of the old days before of all of this fancy magic and reality breaking when it was just you and me and that little strip of land out in the woods.”

“No, no, I’m fine, just leave me here with my drink that does absolutely nothing for my mental state, which by the way, doesn’t taste completely like off-brand moonshine, so thanks for that,” Murder God replied, dragging her finger around the rim of the glass. Raising two fingers into the air, she motioned to a woman floating off in the corner, scribbling endlessly on long rolls of scrolls with her long brown hair brushed back out of her face. “How goes the scribing there, Bookkeeper? Get everything in already?”

The woman glanced over, her quill still scribbling even though her attention was on the bar and the two of them. As like everyone else stuck in this scenario, she was dressed to the theme, wearing an earthy dark green bikini. She wordlessly motioned to the several scrolls floating behind her, all wrapped up with a single red string and lightly colored gold. “There was…not much to record…” Bookkeeper said, her voice low and dripping like honey.

“Good, because it’s time for you to go and meet your newest colleague,” Murder God said with a little more of her normal sadistically cheerful voice. “I’m sure his story will make an excellent addition to your collection. It’s been a bit since we last added something to the Followers’ section of the library.”

“If that is your will…” Without another word, Bookkeeper bowed her head and floated towards the exit of the bar, grabbing her sunhat off of a peg and plopping it over her pointed ears.

“I suppose that’s my cue to leave as well,” Old Priestess said, walking out from behind the bar and heading for the little exit to the bar. As she passed by the little mini fridge, she grabbed a large picnic basket that definitely had not been resting there a minute ago. “Have a good rest of your day, dearest.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see the fanfiction about me and Vincent, we are having a talk about that.”

“Oh Bookkeeper, how lovely it is to see you again,” Old Priestess said, completely brushing past her rather annoyed friend boss and catching up with the floating woman in just two strides. “Tell me, sweet pea, how has it been holed up in the library?”

Bookkeeper just focused on the scroll in hand, not even slightly twitching her ears to indicate she was paying attention.

“We missed you at the summons, you know. Doing things out in the open is never as much fun without our scribe there watching,” Old Priestess continued, letting the warm sand run over her bare feet and toes. “You also missed game night, Uno, poker, me winning…”

A wall would’ve reacted more.

“You know, I hear there was even a small massacre at, well, what little is left of the first game site.”

At this, the corners of Bookkeeper’s mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. “I see…I will…have to consult the others for the events that transpired then,” she remarked, switching out her scroll and continuing to write, the feather dancing along the page with the grace of a hummingbird in flight. “And I heard the summons and met with Lieutenant…I was just too busy catching up on my records to leave for any significant stretch of time.”

“You really need to get out more,” Old Priestess replied, turning a bend in the coastline. As their steps and idle chatter drew them closer to the other Followers, a small flicker tore through the carefully sculpted trees and background shrubbery. Before Old Priestess had the means or the care to patch up the hole so rudely punched through the fabric of the void, a man fell through and landed with something between clumsiness and impeccable grace on the sand. He was scrawny, sickly even, though tall enough to dwarf even the Lieutenant. Like a visual representation of why mortals should not mess with the natural order, the right half of his body was picture of relative health while the left was, at best, showing more muscle and bone than flesh. The nurse scrubs she had remembered seeing him in last were gone, instead replaced by a dark red wetsuit.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh, hello-hello-hello Old-Old Priestess-Priestess, Bookkeeper-Bookkeeper,” the man stuttered as he picked himself up off the ground and brushed the sand off of his arms and out of his curly gray hair.

“Oh gods, not you,” Bookkeeper muttered, aggressively grabbing her new quill and pulling a red string out of her hat. With two quick knots, she tied up the finished scroll with a little bow and set it off to float along behind her.

“Hello there, Doctor, enjoy your stay in the void?” Old Priestess asked, continuing to tread along the coast.

“Yes-yes-yes, it-it was-was-was very en-enjoyable, very-very educational,” he replied, picking up his fallen medical bag and clearing his throat. “Also-also YOU ABANDONED ME THERE.”

“Yeah I did,” she replied with a smirk and a small laugh.

“WHY.”

“Builds character and keeps you from trying to help people you shouldn’t be,” she said. She shrugged her shoulders and let a wicked smile cross her face. Bookkeeper smirked a little at the statement before continuing her writing. “Also, I don’t know if you heard, but it saved you from the attempted coup, so you should really be thanking me.”

“So-so-so it seems-seems,” Doctor replied, rubbing his left arm and shuddering. “Did-Did you think-think I-I-I was going-going to find-find my way-way-way out and come-come back-back-back?”

“I mean, you do have the nickname of the Part Timer for a reason, my love,” Old Priestess said, giving him a pat on his good shoulder.

“This-this-this is true-true,” he replied. “Though-though I did-did hear the-the-the summons and-and the good-good news-news-news.”

“Ah, good, we’re headed to meet him right now. Such a jumpy little thing, so compassionate…not unlike you,” she said with a sigh. “By the way...“

“Yes-yes?”

Old Priestess reached into the picnic basket and pulled out the bloodspattered dress from just a few days ago, a perfectly round bullet hole in both the front and back of the knitted fabric. “Could you be a dear and fix my dress?”

The stutter dropped. “…did you get shot again?”

Old Priestess suddenly found the giant whale much more fascinating than the current conversation. “...Not on purpose.”

“You said that last time.”

“It’s not like I was trying to ruin a perfectly good dress, he’s the one who fired the gun,” she said, casually gesturing into the air and smiling.

The Doctor sighed and grabbed the stained clothing out of her hands, stuffing it into his medical bag and zipping it shut. “Fine-fine-fine, but this-this-this is the-the last-last-last time-time,” he replied, slipping back into the stutter.

“You’re an absolute doll,” she said, gently patting his cheek as they rounded the bend and came into view and earshot of the other Followers. She cleared her throat a little, letting the wind and the land remember how to carry the voice of a elder god who once controlled the elements like a sculptor shapes stone and clay. “Young Priest!”

The young redhead just about leapt into the umbrella over his head, scrambling to close the book and get to his feet. “Y-yes, Old Priestess?”

“Come over here, I want you to say hello to the last two of our merry little bunch. They were a little…preoccupied and couldn’t make it to game night,” Old Priestess said with a calm smile, holding up the picnic basket for everyone to see. “Oh, and get something to eat. I brought sandwiches for everyone.”

“Aw sweet! Lunch time!” Huntress said, jumping off of the back of the monstrous whale and swimming back to shore.

Old Priestess set down the basket on a nearby rock, watching the others all get up and walk over, giving their greetings to the remaining two Followers and catching up on events long since past. Bookkeeper and Advisor began comparing notes on the past couple of days, both of them engrossed in their respective reading materials while Young Priest looked on in something akin to mild confusion and curiosity. Huntress and Doctor shared a bottle of wine while he took out a needle and thread for the repair work. Lieutenant simply took Young Priest’s place under the umbrella, lying back and stretching his wings out. Taking three sandwiches and some various cutlery, Old Priestess walked over to join him and promptly sat down out of the sun. She took a napkin and wrapped the turkey sandwich up in a neat little package and set it off to the side. For later.

After all, Witch would probably want something when she got back.

[corazonstealer]

Cup of coffee - Law x Reader

Eying him from behind the counter, he was frighteningly stunning. Although you were busy helping his mink friend around freshly baked honey buns, you couldn’t keep your eyes off from him.

Through the glass, you continued to give sly peeks towards his way.

“C-Can I get you anything?” Mustering up the courage to approach him, you sheepishly asked.

He paused for a second, taken aback from the innocent question. As his eyebrows dropped into a disgusted slouch, his words fell out without thinking, “No, I hate bread.”

You held back for a moment unsure of how to respond. The words initially not making any sense bringing a deep sense of confusion. How could he hate bread? Was that really a thing? The sugary puffy pillows brought happiness to all except one.

Face drawn as sour as his, your words fell as easily as his did before, “Get out of my shop.” You huffed while walking away from the counter leaving him with no second word on the matter.

Words now unable to come from him, his friend’s heavy laughter made up for the silent void.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the day ended without instance. Well, sort of, there was that one man that you had practically chased out.

You flustered as the moment replayed over and over in your mind. The words accidentally coming out, you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Get out of my shop, you never expected for your words to be so aggressive.

Why… you continued to sigh as you mentally beat yourself up. Scrubbing the table harder, it accepted your frustrations.    

Embarrassment and regret mixed, you couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Your only consolidation was the fact that you’d never see him again. The thought becoming reassuring quickly sunk your stomach as the effect of it roughly hit. Such an opportunity missed.

Sigh.

There was nothing else to do but try and forget that it all happened. His scruffy scowl was to be soon forgotten. Those steel eyes that pierced your heart, never to be seen a second time.

One final wipe down of the pastry flaked table, it was the time to call it a night. All else chores would be set aside for the next day, your mind needing to be cleared was priority.

Picking your head up from the cleared table, you caught a fleeting figure shifting through the darkness outside. Initially unsure of what you had seen, you stared out inching close to the glass coming face to face.

Your blood immediately rushed cold from the sharp steel eyes staring back at you gaining a heavy scare.

Your heavy scream turned into an airy grasp as you quickly lost your breath. Taking a fright fueled jump back from the glass, you struggled to catch your bearings. Desperately fumbling, your hand reached back grasping the chair for balance.

He quickly rushed into the shop alerted from your high-pitched screaming. “Hey, are you okay?” He cupped your face, gently redirecting your eyes up to him.

“Breathe,” he calmly repeated in a soft whisper.

You nodded, keeping eye contact as you followed his soft breathing. Laying your hand upon your chest, you took one final uncomfortable breath before slowly recovering.

“I-I’m fine… just don’t scare me like that!” You swatted him away with the dirty rag paying no mind to laying the day’s mess on him.

Law backed away slowly allowing you your space before looking down at the light brown crumbs evident against his navy pullover.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry.” Your defensive stance lowered to lightly brush the crumbs off from him.

He pulled on his high feathered neckline to clear his stuffy throat from your sudden touch. “No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to, I was just out on a walk.”

“Walk? This late?” You looked up to him with a questioning tone.

“Yeah…” he looked upon the ground before turning back to the window. “I just wanted to find some coffee, but everything around here looks like it’s closed.”

You gave him an initially puzzling look. It was well known that all shops upon the island closed rather early on certain days. You being the only exception remaining behind for a deep cleaning of your shop.

You chuckled softly, “Oh, it’s painfully obvious that you’re not from around here.”

“What?” He turned around to your soft laughter.

“Just wait here,” you called out to him as you momentarily sunk into the back.

“Here you go,” a few minutes later, you returned with a prepared tray. Freshly brewed coffee steamed from a pair of matching stripped mugs. Teaspoons of cream and stacked sugar cubes waited in their own dishes for a preferred taste.

“I’m not sure how you take yours, so I brought extra.”

“It’s fine like this, thanks.” The raven-haired man accepted the mug, taking a sip of the dark beverage that he craved. Rich and strong, plain was the way that he liked it.

“It’s no problem, please take a seat… I mean, if you want to, whatever your name is…” your words muttered in the end as you couldn’t stop yourself. Turning your gaze away from him, you forced a burning sip from your coffee preventing you from saying anything else.

“It’s Law and are you sure?” He questioned your offer, unsure if he should stay due to the late hour.

“Mhm,” you nodded, forcefully swallowing your drink. “I’m [NAME] and I’m in no rush, don’t worry.”

“[NAME]-ya,” your name lingered on his lips as he nodded accepting the offer to stay as he pulled up a seat.

Holding his mug, he kept drinking as he gave soft peeks towards your way. From scrunching your nose to the foul taste of plain coffee to the smile of satisfaction after adding the right amount of cream, he leaned back to enjoy the increasingly lovely sight.

Blissful view until you took a bite of the small doughnut holes alongside the coffee.

You paused mid-bite, catching his gaze in your peripherals, “D-Do you want—” you caught yourself at the last moment.

The thought of the petty anger returned the feeling of embarrassment. “I’m sorry about before, I’m not sure what came over me,” you began to nervously sweat.

“Don’t worry about it,” he rubbed the back of his head feeling no hard feelings about the moment hours before. He simply tried to keep his intensive eyes from off of you before he could be caught staring once more.

You gave a sigh of relief from his easy pardon. “What a shame, you don’t know what you’re missing out on.” You chuckled, taking the final bite of the fried treat.

He didn’t hold back, snorting to the skewed fact of it being good. “Not really, I don’t know how you can eat that.” He took his preferred sip of bitter coffee forgoing anything sweet.

“Well, maybe that’s because you’ve never tried anything made by me, Law.”

He gave a minor chuckle, his name ringing quite lovely in your tone. “I’ll pass, I don’t think that I’ll like anything made by you, [NAME]-ya.” Law teased your name. Raising a brow, he tried to see how far he could push your buttons.

You took a deep breath, trying to catch your words before another mistake could be made. “Anything? I’m a great cook not just a baker,” you huffed softly to yourself taking his words as a challenge. “Come over tomorrow to my house and I’ll show you.” You quickly spoke without thinking about the underlying meaning hitting you a moment too late.

Law raised a brow to your invitation, “Are you asking me out?”

“N-No, of course not.” You hesitated, stuttering your words as your cheeks flushed a rosy hue. Increasing, you shoved a whole doughnut hole into your mouth preventing you from saying anything else.

He chuckled lowly to your curious reaction, “Well, I wasn’t gong to ask you out either.”

You harshly swallowed, biting your lip anxiously nibbling upon your delicate skin, “I would have said no anyways, just so you know.” You mumbled speaking flushed behind your sleeve looking at anything but him.

“Then I won’t see you tomorrow at 6, right?”

“No, of course not,” you quickly spat out.

He didn’t respond right away like before, leaving the room in silence. Painfully voided he suddenly stood without a word. Only the chair grazing loudly against the flooring rang as he stood to depart.

After a few heavy steps making their way out, you frantically picked your head up to witness his silent leave. Gulping deeply, you tried to swallow the feeling of pushing him out once more.

“I’ll see you then tomorrow, [NAME]-ya.” He gave a weak wave as he walked out leaving you no time to respond.

You hesitated, unsure of what he had meant. Looking down at his empty mug, his number laid written on the coffee stained napkin beneath.

[helenaveee]

Against All Odds Pt.1

Against All Odds ~ACOTAR FIC~

--->Link to Part 2<---

Feysand’s heir Estrella goes on an adventure to find out what is pulling her south toward the forbidden  Spring Court.  Andras, Tamlins youngest son has been having dreams of the night sky for weeks. It is only when he decides to venture out of his comfort zone that he realizes there is a larger meaning behind those dreams and that he will do anything to find it.

THE BEGINNING

*Estrella* I had heard the tale a million times. The War of Courts, Hybern and his armies, Vassa and birds made of flames. Ships that bore the names of my family and creatures so feared that even the dark ran from them. Yet, I felt as though it was so far away, so much time had passed and these stories became watered down versions of the truth. My mother never talked about what happened to her under the Mountain. She never included those memories in her re-telling. I’d heard the whispers though. Everyone still remembered her bravery. Everyone still called her The Cursebreaker. My father looks at her with such pride, such adoration that I can only wonder what led to their pairing. It feels like an entire chapter of their lives was swept away, dust under the rug. I cannot explain the feeling.. but something from their past is calling to me. It’s a warm breeze caressing my cheek, a whisper in the wind, the sweet scent of a flower I cannot ever recall smelling. It’s pulling me somewhere foreign and yet familiar. It’s pulling me into Spring.

-Andras-

It was the same dream I’d been having for a while. The North Star glimmering in the night sky amidst a myriad of colors. Hues of periwinkle, deep blues and greens dancing behind it. The moon resting just under the star like a great shining eye, beckoning me forward. I take a step and feel my feet snag on something with thorns. Red roses creep up above my knees and twine their stems around my wrists. The panic sets in almost immediately and I’m overcome with a feeling of dispair. I must follow the North Star, I need to know why it is drawing me forth into the night. More vines come slithering out of the earth, pinning me in place. There is nothing I can do, no amount of struggle or screaming will loosen their grip. The colors in the sky start to fade into grey, the Star fades too. All that is left is me and the moon. For a moment I am still; defeated and weak. I hear it then, a howling of defiance. A wolf in the distance, silhouetted against the moon itself. It cries out into the void louder and louder, building into crescendo that rattles the stars back into the sky. It is only then that the realization hits. I am the wolf. I am shepherd to The North Star and I will howl until it finds it’s way out of the dark and back to me.

                              *Estrella*

They say I take after my father in looks and my mother in temperament. With my inky hair, dark complexion and mischievous smile you’d think us twins. There weren’t a lot of features I inherited from my mother except the smattering of freckles on my cheeks and the ring of blue-grey in my otherwise violet colored eyes. Oh, and the bits of power from every court in Prythian. The gift willingly given to save my mothers life just so happened to be the gift that kept on giving. I couldn’t summon the full extent of their powers but some abilities were quite useful even at a trickle of their strength. At the present moment, I could kiss the feet of High Lord Tarquin for bestowing us with water manipulation.

It was an unseasonably hot night in Velaris and Ritas was filled to the brim with writhing bodies. Music filled the air making my pulse jump and my head swim. Well, I do suppose my head was also swimming thanks to the generous helpings of sweet red wine being offered left and right. Swimming… my head was swimming… Oh, yes, thank the cauldron. I summoned water from my fingertips and filled a goblet to the brim, the liquid dripping down my face as I took it in three large gulps. I was filling my second glass when a chill crept up my neck and nipped my nose. It could only mean one thing. I turned around and was greeted by the loudest squeal I had ever heard followed by a bone crushing hug.

“ ESTRELLAAAA! Thank the mother I am SO happy to see you. Mor and Selene are driving me mad! They won’t stop telling stories of their adventures in Cretea after the wedding and if I have to hear one of those tales again my brain will quite literally melt.”

“It’s lovely to see you too cousin and I am happy to rescue you but could you please do me a favor?”

I pointed at my glass of now warm water and put on a soppy frown. Cohl was heir to The Winter Court and could summon ice in the blink of an eye and so he did, effectively turning my bathwater goblet into a refreshing ice slushy. I could only muster a few snowflakes on a good day.

“Can we please get out of here, I’m staying at the House of Wind and could use some help navigating. Your roads always confuse me. They all look so different.”

I scoffed at his statement, recalling the image of The Winter Court into my mind. One giant snowball, not a variation of color in sight. No wonder he was lost in Velaris, this was practically a maze to him.

“Yes yes, let’s winnow out. Mor and Selene can make their own way back.”

And so we went, arm in arm into the night, giggling all the way home.  

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

In the early hours of the morning my eyes fluttered open. Something strange had stirred me awake. It was a sound.. not my name but something else. A howling…but was it? We didn’t have wolves here in the north. That was distinctly a southern region beast. I scrubbed at the sleep in my eyes and stumbled out of bed. My head immediately started to pound as I was not-so-kindly reminded of mine and Cohls detour to another tavern. We had caught up over flaming whiskey, a drink he had never tried and was indeed floored by, literally. After scraping him up off the ground, we half winnowed and half walked back to The House of Wind. A million steps later and here I was, in my mothers old quarters. Sometimes I felt like I couldn’t escape the shadow of my parents. They were everywhere. I stood, legs shaky as a newborn doe and walked to the terrace. The sky was beginning to turn colors; periwinkle, pinks and purples. I took in the sight of my home, the beauty of it and felt an unfamiliar tug at my heart. Then, out of nowhere, a warm breeze. It was both alluring and alarming, the way it wove itself in and out of my fingers, lifted my hair back from my face. It smelled of flowers and grass and earth. No, not flowers. A flower… one I had never smelled in my life. Before I could think on it any further the sensation was gone along with the breeze and smell. I lingered there for a moment longer then crawled back into bed, my head insisting on more sleep. As my eyes closed I had the vaguest feeling that I was not entirely alone. It did not scare me, not one bit.

                                  -Andras-

I woke with my heart slamming against my chest. For the love of the cauldron, was this really happening again? The same dream for a fortnight. Thorns, roses, wolves, stars and the moon. It was going to be the end of me any day now. The sun had not even peeked over the hills yet and I was wide awake. I turned my face into my pillow and let out a groan that could have woken half of Prythian. A moment later and I was rolling out of bed and headed into my bathing quarters. I chanced a look into the great golden vanity mirror, something I did not do often since the dreams started. The darkness under my eyes had gotten worse and my cheekbones had become more prominent. Even my hair was protesting. When had I last ran a comb through it? I could not recall. Anyway, what did it matter.. I wasn’t the son who needed to put on airs for anyone. That was my brother Hensel’s duty as first born heir to The Spring Court. I swiftly turned from my reflection and drew a bath. Once it was filled to the brim with suds, I stepped in, a great sigh of relief escaping my lips. Perhaps this would help me fall back to sleep. I only hoped that scrubbing my skin would in turn scrub away the images that haunted me every night. It didn’t.

Two hours later the manor woke. I could hear the maids preparing the decorations for Calanmai, an ancient ceremony that is held to signify the start of Spring. Another year, another ceremony, all the same. I’d have to be present for the revel even though it bored me half to death. Hensel on the other hand was more than excited to attend Calanmai. Being a High Lords heir had it’s advantages with the female and male fae alike. I was aware of his sneaking off into the stables to exchange “words” with his consorts. I couldn’t help but to laugh and turn my attentions elsewhere.. usually the magnificent spread of food on the tables. This year it would be more of the same.. always the same. Except this year my dreams had kept me awake for many many nights and I was in definite need of some sneaking and reveling.

____________________

“Hensel, Andras, you know what I expect of you in the coming days so please be on your best behavior. We have new guests coming in from villages all over the court and they will be enjoying the festivities with us for the first time. I do hope you will be most courteous and respectful to everyone. Hensel! for the love of the mother TAKE YOUR FEET OFF THE TABLE.”

I peeked under my curtain of dark hair to my brother on the opposite end of the table. His feet were indeed up and least surprising was the berry pressed between two toes, ready to eat. Hensel was the spitting image of our father; golden mane, eyes green as sprouting leaves and a shit eating grin that could rival that of The High Lord himself. Watching them both assert their dominance was like watching two great lions stare each other down. It never ended well. The only time our father wasn’t met with resistance from Hensel was during Calanmai, so to his great relief, my brother took his feet off the table. A lion recognizing that his next big feast depended on someone else.

“Andras darling, have you had a bath yet today? I could have one drawn for you at once if not.” My mother was the fiercest person I’d ever encountered but when it came to me she seemed to have a soft spot.

“I did have one earlier this morning… do I really look that bad?”

“You look like hell frozen over little prince” said Hensel, while tossing the berry I imagined was in between his toes onto my plate.

I threw the berry back, “ You might want to clip those talons from your feet before tonight or you’ll risk impaling one of our new guests.”

Hensel flashed me a less-than-savory gesture and I returned the favor. We grinned like fools for the rest of breakfast while our parents grilled us on proper etiquette for the nights to come.

*Estrella*

“ Amren, where exactly do wolves roam in Prythian? “

Amren slid her eyes up from the handful of jewels she had been polishing. I never called Amren anything but her name, although I suspected she’d be okay with me calling her Aunt if the feeling compelled me. Everyone in The Inner Circle was Aunt or Uncle to me.

“They are native to the southern courts.”

“I know that.. I just mean to ask where exactly..”

Amren cocked an eyebrow and said “ You know where. Your mother and father forbade me to speak of that court with you. Don’t think bringing me handfuls of jewels is going to soften me up child.”

I wrinkled my brows and stuck my tongue out at her. Immediately realizing the grave mistake I turned around and ran for my life. I had barely made it out the door before a ruby encrusted slipper flew past my ear.

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

“ Aunt Nesta, can I ask you a question about your life before you were made fae?”

My aunt was sitting in the library of the large treehouse her and my uncle Cassian had moved into together years ago. She sat barefoot, feet curled underneath her, scribbling in a volume of text that had strange markings on the pages. When she closed the book and turned her attention to me, I noticed the authors name… Nesta Archeron. She had become quite the scholar since being turned fae, particularly in ancient magic thanks to Amren having taught her years ago.

“ Yes, you may. No, I cannot tell you anything of your mothers time in the south.”

I sighed, “ That’s okay because this question has to do with when you lived in the mortal realm. Did you ever see any wolves? Hear them howling? I could have sworn I heard one the other night and it woke me from sleep. Have you ever heard of one traveling up this far north?”

My aunts eyes glazed over at the memory that was tugging her mind. She seemed very far away at that moment, lost in a time before now, nearly 20 years ago.

“I had not encountered the wolf until Feyre had brought back the pelt. It was a giant beast and she made good money for the furs. It all happened so suddenly, one moment we were sitting around a fire and next a monster comes bursting through our cottage door. We were all so frightened, the beast was demanding to know what happened to his wolf companion. It took me a few blinks to realize they had been High Fae-“

I must have looked eager for the information because she immediately snapped out of her daze and looked me square in the eyes.

“Wolves are dangerous creatures and you will not seek them out. Had it not been for the wolf in the forest that day we might all live very different lives. I’m happy here with Cassian and our family, but know that I have thought of my mortal life many times in the years and still yearn for it in some ways. Don’t be a fool Estrella.”

I thanked her for sharing that story with me, turned on my heel and winnowed back to the last place I’d heard the howling. My mothers quarters. On the terrace I made a vow that I’d find out what was tugging me south. Deep in my core I knew where the answers were.. I was going somewhere forbidden by my entire family. I was going into Spring... but not before enlisting a little help. {All character edits are done by me for this fan fiction} {All characters,places and events are inspired by the ACOTAR series written by Sarah J Maas. }

[bemorecronch]

Glass Bird (Jared Kleinman x Gender Neutral Reader)

WARNINGS: heavy mentions of Anxiety, medication. Super fluffy. Just about self-care and how Jared's secretly a softie who loves you. You and Jared had been dating for 4 months, and you'd become that couple. The one that people weren't sure if you were actually dating. You'd throw harmless insults at each other and neither of you were too good with public displays of affection. When you were in private it was usually over at his house a lot because his parents were always working and it was easier to be alone. Since the relationship started it was more friends that had sex rather than a romantic thing. It was comfortable and you'd never been happier. But today was different. Today was shitty. You'd been feeling nervous all morning and had 3 panic attacks in total. You were taking your medication and trying to do what your therapist said. The problem was you didn't have the energy to even try and make yourself better. You wanted to climb under the covers and scream into the void at the same time. So when Jared had asked if you were coming over and you didn't reply, he got worried. “You ok?” His voice was quiet on the phone and you tried your best to put on what you'd labelled as your ‘plastic-voice’ the one you used to convince people you were doing fine. Somehow it never really worked with him, “Yeah! I'm good! You?” You sound bright and he hesitates. You here him moving on the phone, “I'm putting my shoes on. See you in five.” “Wait! Jared I'm…” But he's hung up. You rest your head in your hands because any second he'd be over and be totally repulsed. You look pathetic and weak and he’ll want nothing to do with you. You lye face down on the sofa and shut your eyes; trying to focus on any other sound than the hyper-static noise in your head. You must be worn out after classes because you can sense that over-tired feeling wash over you. The all too familiar fear based adrenaline that was there for seemly no reason and nothing you could channel it toward. You feel like no time has gone by, but 10 minutes later you hear a knock on the door. There's a moment where you consider not answering. You pause with your hand on the door knob for what can only be a few seconds, but feels an awful lot like eternity. The mail slot opens from the other side, “hey asshole I'm not leaving. Either let me in or I'm sleeping in your doorstep.” You try to plaster on a smile as you open the door. He has a basket full on stuff in his arms and charges past you before you can work out what any of it is and places it in the floor. You lock the door and turn to face him, “Jared I'm fine, you don't need to…” you're cut off by a chaste kiss in the lips. He's holding your waist and you feel yourself melt a little. He doesn't let many people see this side of him, but he can be sweet. “Ok. Go take a shower.” So much for sweet. “What?” You look up and he kisses you again, “I'm taking care of you so you have to do what I say. Go take a shower.” You'd usually fight. No one tells you what to do as a matter of principle. But the energy just isn't there. Plus now you think about it you don't actually remember the last time you showered. A mix of general mental health bullshit was effecting your memory and made you feel a little gross. You nod slowly, “but not because you told me.” You whisper and he chuckles, “of course not.” You slowly make your way up the stairs and undress, running the shower hot and climbing in. You wash your hair and start to feel somewhat human. The urge to sit down and cry is still there though, and after 20 minutes there's a light tapping on the door, “you're not masturbating in there are you?” Jared asks and you give a quiet laugh, “just finished.” “Well I uh… I brought you some of my pyjamas because God knows how long live just been wearing those.” You step out and wrap a towel around you before opening the door, he's holding a graphic-T and plaid boxers. He tucks a strand of wet hair behind your ear and he kisses your forehead, “get dry and come down stairs.” You pull him into a light kiss and take the clothes from him, “why are you doing this?” You ask and he smirks “you think I can't tell when you our faking it?” He cocks and eyebrow and forces another laugh out of you, “well shit.” “Exactly. Now go get changed and I'll see you down stairs.” While you'd never admit it to anyone else, you did what you were told. Wrapping your hair into a towel and pulling on his shirt and boxers. The T-shirts a little big on you but it smells fresh and also slightly like his house. Something else you'd never admit is to how comforting the smell of Jared actually was. He'd mock you for weeks if he knew. As you pad down the stairs you see a cup of tea waiting for you and RuPaul on Netflix. There's microwaved noodles on a plate and he smiles when he sees you. You sit on your knees and instantly begin to cry. He wraps his arms around you, kissing your temple. “I'm sorry if I was being bossy- I just know making decisions when your in a bad place makes it worse. I didn't mean to…” He's babbling and you stop him by kissing him lightly. You're still crying so it's a little strange, and you pull away wiping your face, “they're not sad tears.” You're whispering for fear of your voice cracking, “it's not tears of joy… More like, relief.” You're trying to regain yourself and he pulls you to lean on him. He kisses your cheek and you notice he's got that half cocked smile, “you get that its only like, shitty noodles. And this is your Netflix account. Jesus baby you really need to heighten your standards.” You know he's kidding, but you push him a little anyway. He sits behind you and wraps a long, wool blanket around your shoulders. You fight the urge to cry again because he will definitely start mocking you. He presses play but you’re not focuses on the t.v. He's watching and commenting absentmindedly. You rest your head on his chest and yawn, the sound from the t.v echoes around you and you focus in the slow thumping of Jared’s heart. It's steady and slow and you count the beats in your head. “Hey nerd, you need to eat.” He kisses the the top of your head and you can actually feel yourself begin to centre. The adrenaline is lesser and the static is barely audible. You smile at him; an actual smile, “this is the first and last time I do what you tell me.” You comment before sitting forward and eating. He rolls his eyes but there's a grin growing too, “Yeah well apparently Nurse Kleinman knows how to make you feel better.” “Nurse Kleinman? Kinky.” You mutter. He nudges you slightly and laughs. You finish the noodles that were actually pretty good and take your plates into the sink. You start washing automatically and he puts his hand on your shoulder, “I'll do them if you…” You cut him off by kissing him, “you cooked, I'll clean.” You run the tap and let it fill up before scrubbing on the plates. All the while you can feel eyes on you. Usually you wouldn't mind but in your current state it puts you a little on edge, “you don't have to stay and like… Watch me.” He's leaning against the counter and there's a softer look in his eyes, “I just realised… What it would be like living together.” It's quiet and you freeze up. Your stomach drops and your hands support you on the edge of the sink for fear of falling, your breathing increases and the static comes back in a loud and terrible manner. As quick as it happens he has his arms around your waist from behind, “what's wrong?” His hold is strong and safe. The guilt is almost unbearable. But how do you word it without coming across needy, “I… It's… Look. I'm not saying we would be living together but, if you ever did- if we ever… It wouldn't be like this. You wouldn't have to care for me. I'm not some breakable glass bird you'd need to keep putting back together.” It comes out in a ramble and is met by silence. You feel his head rest on your shoulder and lightly kiss your neck, “I meant me cooking and you doing the dishes. We’re being all domestic and I… Liked it. And on the days where one of us has a breakdown; because it will happen, I know the other will be there with noodles and RuPaul.” You inhale, not realising you'd been holding you breath, “oh.” “And for the record,” he spins you around, bubbles flying as your hands cone out of the sink, “I have not, do not and will not see you as a little glass bird. You're one of the strongest people I know. It's actually why I love you.” The panic in his eyes after he realises what he's said is pretty goddamn cute neither if you had ever talked about the word love- much less said to to each other. But you knew how you felt, you kiss him again. It's a little stronger and you feel him relax into it, he holds you tighter as you pull away, “Jared… That's gay as shit.” You can't help but smile as he opens his mouth to retort and no words come out, you wrap your arms around his neck: “but I… I love you too.” You whisper. He kisses you on the forehead again. “I'm gonna dry my hands and we can finish that episode RuPaul?” You ask and he nods and let's go, making his way back to the living room. You quickly dry your hands and grab his shoulder, “Jared?” “Yeah?” You grab his collar and pull him into another kiss. It's deeper and you run your hands through his hair before trailing them down his neck and cupping his jaw. He's wrapped his arms completely around you and as you pull away he's still leaning in. His glasses have fogged a little and he looks completely caught off guard. You take his hands, “thank you for today. I… I really needed this.”