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paganvamp · 3 years

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Saving Grace: Chapter Seven

Meet Damon Salvatore!

(Holy shit this a long chapter)

2009 AD: The Other Brother

Elena was soaked, standing chest-deep in the muddy lake as Ric looked on from the woods above.

“Damon! How are you even here?”

“Thanks for the tip, brother.” Damon’s voice, disapproving and frustrated, sounded from his place behind Ric, leaning against the tree trunk next to him. Neither of them seemed too bothered that he had just launched Elena into the water, though Ric did have the decency to look a bit sheepish.

“You sold me out!” Elena accused.

“You think I'd take you to a mountain range of werewolves on a full moon without backup?”

“Get out of the water, Elena.”

“If I get out of the water, you’re gonna make me go home.” Elena protested.

“Yes, because I’m not an idiot like you.”

“Right now, you’re both acting like idiots.” Ric groused, rolling his eyes, and walking further away from the bickering pair.

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Probably won’t be the last.” Grace’s voice could be heard before she came into view, but it was clear from the tone she meant the jibe with affection and good humor.

“You dragged Grace all the way out here just to babysit me?” Elena frowned at Damon.

“He dragged Grace all the way out here because she doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” Grace responded in Damon’s stead. A moment of silence as Damon and Elena stared accusingly at each other.

“You gave up on him, Damon.”

A klaxon-sounding bell tore Grace from her vision-dream, and she was momentarily too discombobulated to realize it was her own alarm clock. Who the fuck are Damon and Ric? Grace sighed. And why the fuck are they looking for werewolves? She’d just gotten over her strange Stefan vision, and the uneasy feeling of her hand in his. Elena liked him, seemed to trust him, and Caroline thought he was God’s gift… it was only Bonnie who seemed to share Grace’s reservations.

Pulling her phone off the charger, Grace found she had a string of new messages. Navigating to the three-way chat between herself, Bonnie, and Elena (some things needed to be Caroline-free), she noticed that the other two girls had apparently had an entire conversation while Grace was asleep.

E: Any word on the psychic front? Am I gonna win the lottery today?

B: ha-ha. I told you, Grams was drunk. No winning lottery numbers here

E: 2 bad. Aunt Jenna really wanted that new tv

B: Grace, I hope Ur not ignoring us. That’s very rude

E: She’s probably still asleep, Bon. It’s like 5 am

There were more, as well as some texts from Caroline, but all Grace could see was one word floating in front of her eyes: psychic. She’d prayed that Bonnie would show some inclination toward magic, that she would have someone to talk to and practice with. Could this be the first signs of her Tapping into her powers?

Quickly - so quickly her first draft was unrecognizable as English – she typed out a response to Elena and Bonnie.

G: I’m awake. Psychic???

While waiting for a response, she alternated between reading the rest of her notifications and beginning the arduous process of brushing and braiding her elbow-length hair. Strangely, Grace had yet to receive Caroline’s customary ‘good morning’ message, which usually consisted of a precise list of all the plans she’d made for the entire day, and maybe an actual ‘good morning,' if she remembered. She did, however, have multiple texts from Caroline dated the night before.

C: If you notice any new tall, dark & handsomes around town, know I’ve already called dibs – 8:00 PM

C: could you please tell Elena she just needs to jump S’s bones already? She listens to u – 8:30 PM

C: OK srsly, I’m asking — has Vicki always been such an attention whore – 8:45 PM

C: don’t answer that – 8:46 PM

No other texts had come in from Caroline until hours later, when she sent the last message of the night:

C: Elena may be a prude, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get some. Don’t wait up ; ) – 10:30 PM

So, clearly Caroline had run into her ‘tall, dark, and handsome’ last night and taken him home. The last part of the message, ‘don’t wait up ; )’, sent a pang through Grace. She remembered when she was the one sending her friends texts like that. Not now, Grace. It’s school time. Mostly, she was fine, didn’t think of Bryan at all… but sometimes a memory would hit her like a fuckton of bricks. She shook off the sudden melancholy and gathered up the scattered grimoires and spiral notebooks strewn across her room from the night before. No wonder she’d stopped answering messages at 8:00 – after pouring over magical tomes for hours, she had fallen asleep early.

“Grace, hurry!” Aimee’s voice urged from her room across the hall. “Don’t you have practice today?” Oh, shit. No matter how good Caroline’s mystery man had been last night, she would happily skewer Grace over a bonfire if she were late for practice again, and her practice clothes were in her duffel in the school locker room. If she was late to school, she wouldn’t be able to grab them before class, which would mean she’d have to detour before practice to get them and… well. Either way, she needed to move her ass or she’d be late to first period. She winced; It was kind of a habit of hers, unfortunately.

“Shit, Aims, I really have to go! Are y’all ready, or can you get dad to drive you?” ‘Y’all,' a phrase reminiscent of her childhood in Louisiana, usually only made an appearance around family members or when she was in a hurry.

“Neither.” Chloe called grouchily from the bathroom, down the hall from her sister’s rooms. She was not a morning person — which was lucky for her, since she’d somehow ended up with study hall (aka an hour to sleep in) first thing in the morning. “Dad left already, which you would know if you ever woke up on time.” Since she didn’t have time to argue, Grace let the snide comment go this once.

“Then get in the car, we have to leave, Chloe!” Where is my damn history book? Grace’s room was a mess of grimoires and textbooks and writings by and for witches. The history book was buried somewhere in the sea of paper and ink.

Chloe’s head popped out from the bathroom, a furiously indignant look on her pretty face. Her hair was to Grace a rat’s nest of clips and curlers and bobby pins, though she was sure it made sense to Chloe.

“Not all of us are okay with looking like Leif Erikson every day, you know.” As mothers are wont to do, Cecile somehow sensed an argument brewing and appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Grace, you go. Take Aimee if she’s ready. I don’t have anything until the afternoon – I can drive Chloe.” As Assistant Curator of the history museum in the city, Cecile worked strange hours and dealt with a fairly lengthy commute every day, but she and Joseph – manager at a bakery in town — felt it worth the sacrifice.

“I’m ready!” To prove her point, the only brunette among them sailed past her mother and sister down the stairs, bag over her shoulder and shoes already on. Shoving her feet into the first pair of tennis shoes she saw, Grace stuffed her history book — found under her bed, for some reason — into her bag and followed Aimee to the car.

Grace needn’t have worried about Caroline’s wrath; when she reached the school, Caroline was nowhere in sight. Bonnie and Elena were, though, so after saying goodbye to her sister, she headed their way, just in time for Stefan to join them.

“Good morning, Elena. Good morning, Bonnie, Grace.” Grace smiled and nodded at him, more focused on Bonnie’s reaction to him than a warm welcome. She hadn’t had any time to see if either of the two girls had responded to her inquiry about Bonnie’s supposed psychic powers, so she’d just have to observe and bring it up later.

“Hey,” the greeting was short and uncomfortable, even for Grace, as Bonnie cast her eyes around for an escape route, “Um, I gotta find Caroline. She’s not answering her phone. So, I’ll see you guys later.” Late and unreachable? Maybe mystery man was more Ted Bundy than Casanova? But before Grace could ask if Caroline really was AWOL or simply being used as an escape route, Bonnie was gone.

“She doesn’t like me very much.” How astute.

“She doesn’t know you.” Elena corrected gently, smoothing ruffled feathers as usual. “She’s my best friend. She’s just looking out for me. But when she does, she will love you.”

“Bonnie’s one of those resistant-to-change types, at least when it comes to the friend group.” Grace offered. She felt awkward, as she agreed with Bonnie but was standing with Stefan.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” Uh-oh. That’s her ‘I have a plan’ voice. “Are you free tonight?” Grace didn’t need any powers of divination to see where this was going.

“Yes.”

“Perfect. Dinner; My house, 8:00; You, me, and Bonnie.” Elena turned to Grace, an invitation on her lips.

“Oh, no. I’m not getting in the middle of that. This is Bonnie’s thing.” No need to mention her own reservations, especially if it meant getting out of the sure-to-be-awkward dinner.

“Fine. Stefan and Bonnie will spend some quality time and she’ll get to see what a great guy you are. Mission accomplished.” Elena had quite the self-satisfied smile on her face, as if she’d solved world hunger and not Bonnie’s bad attitude. In the silence, a familiar voice sounded in Grace’s ear.

“….Do, Ty?” It was Matt, clearly, but the words were faint. Grace could only make out a few of them,“…made…choice.”

“…One.” Tyler responded.

“Hey, I didn’t know Matt was here already.” Grace exclaimed, just to say something. Elena gave her a strange look.

“What are you talking about? How do you know Matt is here?” Elena knew Matt’s voice as well as Grace did. It should have caught her attention as well, shouldn’t it?

“You didn’t hear him and Tyler?” It was Stefan’s turn to give a strange look, but this one she couldn’t decipher. She wasn’t willing to read him again, so she was left bewildered at the searching expression on his face.

“…Ty, don’t! Ty!” That was louder, but before Grace could make a comment, Stefan was whirling around to catch the football that had been aimed directly at his head. He threw it back — a good throw, maybe better than Tyler’s. Elena laughed at Tyler’s shocked reaction, but Grace was focused on something else. They’re so far away… Grace had always had good senses — perfect vision, a sometimes-too-sensitive consciousness of smell, good hearing — but that was almost… inhuman. No wonder Elena was confused. She hadn’t heard a thing they’d said. Noticing more students arriving, they made their way inside the school, where Elena was not ready to forget Stefan’s display outside.

“That throw was insane. I didn’t know you played football.”

“I used to.” He looked nostalgic for a moment. “It was a long time ago.”

“So why don’t you try out for the team?” Grace asked. Football player and cheerleader may have been a cliché, but it was a cute one.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Stefan appeared to think the suggestion was ludicrous.

“So, you don’t like football?” Elena clarified. I hope the mixed signals aren’t a Thing with him.

“No, I love football. I think it’s a great sport.” Grace would beg to differ, though she would never tell Matt. “But in this case, I don’t think football likes me. You saw Tyler over there, and we both know how Matt feels.” The word ‘both’ let Grace know she was heading into third-wheel territory, so she told Elena she’d see her at lunch and made her way to her locker, where her worst nightmare had come true.

Tyler and Vicki. Kissing. She supposed the pair were always either fucking or fighting, so no option was great, but at least when they were fighting, they weren’t a unified front. They wouldn’t tag-team to make her day more difficult. In fact, one of them might even go out of their way to make her life easier, just to spite the other.

Maybe she was glad to be single after all.

“Luctor et emergo.” Grace muttered, as she elbowed her way past the writhing couple to her locker. Grace’s parents had insisted on all three of their children learning both Latin and French from an incredibly early age. Back then, Grace simply thought they were classists or wanted to set their kids apart somehow. Now she knew their true motives – Traditional Magic, and its spells, were almost entirely recited in Latin; the witches of the Quarter use Ancestral Magic – a large part of which was in French. Since childhood, Grace had a habit of slipping into another language in times of stress or hardship — similar to her use of ‘y’all’ — which seemed to be happening a lot more lately. Luctor et emergo: I struggle and emerge. A frequently used phrase when walking the halls of Mystic Fall High School. Another thing becoming more common lately was upper arm work-outs — for days, Grace had been shoving every textbook and spiral bound she could into her backpack and lugging it around all day, just so she could avoid the two forces of nature currently sucking each other’s faces off. The one bright spot was that Vicki had seemed to loosen up on her vendetta against all associated with Elena Gilbert.

Slamming her locker door shut, Grace glanced at her phone again. Bonnie was right — not a peep from Caroline. She began to type a message when the warning bell clanged, signaling two minutes to get to class. She would have to locate Caroline later.

Cheerleading practice was the highlight of Grace’s day. There was almost nothing she loved more than the rush that came from flying and tumbling, except maybe magic. Yes, she hated football — basketball was much less boring, without all that stopping and starting — but cheer was worth it. Of course, she’d made her three closest friends through the squad, and it was one of the few subjects she and Chloe seemed to agree on. Then there was the adrenaline rush, as well as the benefits of having to keep her body in such good condition. It didn’t hurt that the uniform was adorable, either; Grace was proud of the body both nature and cheer had given her, and tended to prefer silhouettes and styles that accentuated her curves, complimenting her features — which, of course, the uniform was basically designed for.

After dropping her water bottle and bag at the edge of the field, Grace began stretching near Bonnie.

“Seriously, if you could maybe make yourself look a little uglier next practice, I think we’d all appreciate it.” Bonnie japed, eyeing the cherry-red spandex shorts and black sports bra Grace had donned for practice.

“You’re one to talk.” Dana, doing the splits a few feet away, called to Bonnie. “Like, could you turn down the glow a little bit, Bonnie?” Grace herself dropped into the splits, having loosened up enough, and slowly rotated forward until she was flat on her stomach. She looked up to see Bethany, a fellow senior, inches away doing the same. Beth, who shared Grace’s weird sense of humor, grabbed Grace’s hand.

“Tell my family…” she whispered, as though she were dying. “Tell my family I died well.” She collapsed loosely on the grass as Grace wailed in feigned grief.

“No, Beth! Come back! I’ll miss you!” Before the charade could continue too far, Grace heard Bonnie’s voice from just outside her limited field of vision.

“Oh, my God! You’re here!” She sounded stunned.

“Yep.” Elena! Grace contorted herself as far as she could without spraining something and saw her two friends standing above her. “I can’t be sad girl forever. The only way to get things back to the way they were are to do things that were.” Grace wasn’t sure that made sense. She slowly pushed herself back up into a sitting position and Bonnie and Elena each grabbed a hand to help her up. “Oh, and you're coming to dinner tonight.” This could end poorly.

“I am?”

“Mm-hmm. You, me, and Stefan.” Bonnie gave The Look. “You have to give him a chance.”

“Tonight's no good. Have you seen Caroline? I texted her like a hundred times.” So, Caroline was still missing… Grace was seriously starting to worry. Missing practice was perhaps the most Un-Caroline thing that could possibly happen.

“Don't change the subject, Bonnie Bennett! You're going to be there.”

“Fine. I'll go.” No one could talk Elena out of something when she set her mind to it, not even Bonnie Bennett.

“Good.”

“Can I circle back to the Caroline thing?” This was probably an appropriate time for Grace to circle back to the psychic thing, but anxiety was gnawing at her. “Neither of you have heard from her. Like at all?” They both shook their heads, then all three girls looked around as if Caroline might pop out of a bush.

“Seriously, where is Caroline?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like her.” Grace was already reaching into her bag for her phone.

“I’ll try her again.” Before she could, however, a car pulled up to the field, containing none other than Caroline… and ‘Damon’. Dream Damon. Grace couldn’t equate Caroline’s sexy-bad-boy mystery guy to the obnoxious but lovable older-brother type she’d dreamt earlier.

“Uh…”

“Oh, my God. That must be the mystery guy from the grill.” Grace suggested. Her friends seemed dumbfounded, and some part of her found it good to know they were just as lost as Grace.

“That’s not a mystery guy.” Or not. “That’s Damon Salvatore.” Grace’s head swung toward Elena so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.

“Salvatore, as in Stefan?” So, she’d had visions of both brothers within days of each other? Each one an indication of future best-friendships? Caroline sauntered over to them, looking smug as all hell even with that ridiculous scarf around her neck. I’m all for a fashion statement, but at cheer practice?

“I got the other brother.” She said to Elena. Well, that explained some of it. Grace knew about Caroline’s deeply buried resentment of Elena, and the fact that never dealt with it or addressed it — she didn’t need to be an Empath to know that, because Caroline had told her. But even if she hadn’t, Grace could practically smell it radiating off of Caroline, she was so upset. “Hope you don’t mind.” Clearly not true. “Sorry I’m late, girls.” She addressed the whole squad this time. “I, uh, was busy.” That little smirk at the corner of her mouth let Grace know that she wasn’t completely wrong about Caroline’s activities the previous night. “All right, let’s start with the double pike herkey hurdler, what do you say?” The girls quickly formed lines, never willing to risk Caroline’s drill-sergeant-esque wrath, and Caroline began counting. Grace, who was behind Elena, could see the younger girl struggling with the maneuver and wondered if Caroline had chosen it on purpose. “Elena, sweetie, why don’t you just observe today? Okay?” It was never a good thing when Caroline used the word “sweetie," and smoke was practically coming out of Elena’s ears. “Keep going! Okay. Do it again, from the top! And 5…” as she went back to counting beats, Grace and Bonnie threw Elena as many commiserative looks as they could. But Elena’s attention had been drawn to the football field, where Stefan Salvatore himself was running plays. The girls watched as Tyler rammed into Stefan, all his weight behind it, and they went down.

“…Gonna live, Salvatore?” Coach Tanner called to the boy, still prone on the grass. Grace could fucking feel Tyler’s emotions from across the field, he was so worked up; he was pissed that some new guy was climbing the popularity ladder so fast, and though a part of him truly did hate Stefan for Matt’s sake, mostly he was jealous himself. It was moments like this when Grace remembered why she hated Tyler so much. The douchebag is using Matt as an excuse to deal with his Alpha Male Complex. Maybe next he’ll pee all over the school like a dog, just to mark his territory.

Stefan got up, and the boys huddled up again; Grace turned her focus back to Caroline’s instructions.

Grace was not looking forward to the football game. Between Caroline’s pettiness being at peak capacity, Elena’s patience at an all-time low, and Bonnie still refusing to come around and give Stefan a chance, Grace figured every moment spent not cheering would be in mediation. As soon as she arrived, she made it her mission to finally talk about the ‘Bonnie’s psychic’ text that had been hovering around her mind all day. Along the way, she ran into Elena, who had apparently quit the squad, and Stefan, who had apparently joined the football team — not quite the stereotypical couple she’d imagined earlier, but whatever.

Finally managing to locate Bonnie, Grace dove straight into what she’d been itching to ask all day.

“So, Bonnie. Psychic?” Bonnie scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“You know how my Grams will get drunk and then start telling me all these stories about magic and fairies and everything…”

“Yeah, I’ve experienced it a time or two.” Perhaps because Sheila knew Grace herself was a witch, she had even less of a filter when Grace was around.

“Well, the other day she starts going on about how I’m psychic.” As Bonnie explained Sheila Bennett’s drunken rambles, Grace realized what Bonnie had yet to put together. Her Grams was telling the truth – Bonnie was a witch. A powerful one, judging by her lineage and psychic abilities — not as strong as Grace’s, but present enough to mean Bonnie’s powers were likely almost unparalleled. “… I mean its crazy, right?” Bonnie was laughing, but there was the smallest part of her that was starting to think maybe it wasn’t so crazy after all.

“Yeah, maybe.” Grace didn’t think it was quite time to reveal herself to Bonnie, but she didn’t want to be unsupportive either. “But, I mean, I totally predicted the end of that movie the other day, so maybe Grams is on to something.”

“Guys, hello?” Caroline had found them. “Are you going to cheer, or are you going to chat?” The two girls rolled their eyes.

“Good to see you, too, Care Bear.” Caroline ignored them, instead using that freaky talent of hers to hone in on the slightest of imperfections.

“Hey, Tiki, it’s all wobbly. Can you stand straight, please? Could someone please help Tiki?”

Grace had her arms wrapped around Matt, despite his protests that he was fine.

“You’re not fine, you dumbass. You just found your teacher and coach…” She didn’t want to say it out loud. “You’re the one who found him, okay? Don’t pretend that didn’t suck.” They were standing by his stupid truck, the light from the ambulance and police cars throwing strange red and blue shadows over everything. The cab door was open, as Grace had bodily slammed into Matt’s back as he made to get inside and clung to him like a monkey.

“Yeah, Gracie, it sucked.” He sighed. “What kind of animal would do something like this?” Caroline’s mom had made the announcement not long ago – Coach Tanner was the victim of another animal attack, this time right in town. Grace shrugged.

“A starving one, I guess.” But Tanner hadn’t been eaten. Just attacked. Like the others. Matt rubbed his hand down Grace’s back as if he were the one comforting her.

“C’mon, Gracie. I’ll drive you home. You can get your car tomorrow.” He walked her around to the passenger’s side, the door of which sometimes stuck shut, and helped her climb up before finally getting in himself. The air conditioning rattled, a comforting, familiar sound in the silence. Grace toed off her white Nfinities, flexing her aching feet. She’d been an idiot in practice last week and fucked up her ankle during a particularly poorly executed scorpion stunt. She’d wrapped it in elastic wrap her mother had spelled with healing charms before the game, but it was no miracle cure. Matt must have noticed her grimace, because he glanced at her with a disapproving big brother look, despite being a year younger than her.

“How many times have I told you to keep your legs straight?”

“Well, look at you, Mr. Cheerleading Expert.” Grace mocked him, not wanting to admit that he had told her that countless times. After nearly 7 years of watching (and sometimes unwillingly participating) in backyard cheer practice, Matt was somewhat knowledgeable in the sport. Knowledgeable enough to know a stunt will fall if the flyer can’t keep her fucking legs straight, anyway. “Don’t worry, Caroline already tore me a new one.” Damn, had she ever. The moment Grace went down, she’d felt Caroline’s hawk-like gaze on her, even through the bodies of her bases. ‘Stop giving me excuses, Sinclair. It’s been four months! Get it together.’ Elena had been in Grace’s stunt group when her parents were killed, which left the foursome someone bereft of a base when she quit. Caroline had frantically rearranged but getting used to a new base was always an adjustment. Selfishly, Grace was just glad none of this had happened when she was captain.

“Yeah, well Caroline can be a nutcase but this time she’s kind of right.” Grace could feel herself getting defensive, even though he was once again correct, but didn’t want to say something that might stall the effectively distracting conversation. Matt might pretend to be blasé, but Grace was calling bullshit.

“Yeah, I get it mom, I need to be more careful.” By this time, they’d reached Matt’s house and, despite Grace living literally fifteen feet away, Matt drove past his own driveway and pulled into hers. “Seriously, dude?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m a gentleman,” Matt smirked, “sue me.” Rolling her eyes affectionately, Grace moved to unbuckle her seatbelt when she noticed Matt staring toward her house with a strange look on his face. She’d seen that look before. She waited for him to break the sudden silence, but he was lost in thought.

“Matt?” She prompted quietly. She knew what he was going to say, and if talking about it was going to keep his mind off Tanner’s mangled body a little longer, then she’d talk about it.

“It feels weird.” That’s specific. “Looking at… this.” He gestured vaguely towards her house, then back towards his. “I mean… yours is so…”

“Big?” It wasn’t really, not for a family of five — it was actually a completely average house in every way. Two floors, four bedrooms — well, three bedrooms and a converted office — two bathrooms. But next to Matt’s she supposed, it did look a bit extravagant.

“And your car is so…” Again, he trailed off, searching for a nice way to call her spoiled. She didn’t take offense.

“Fancy?” She did drive an Audi - cherry red and the love of her life — but (here comes the justification, she nearly cringed) her father had wanted an Audi for years. By the time they’d saved up enough, they had three little kids and it was impractical. So they kept the savings set aside and when Grace turned 16, her dad finally got his dream car… for her. ‘If you so much as scratch the paint, this car is mine,' her father had warned. Chloe, much to her disappointment, had gotten a Honda as her first car. It was a perfectly good car, but certainly not an Audi. Matt sighed and gave her a sheepish look.

“I’m sorry. I just look at the difference between the two… who knew one yard could feel like such a big divide?” It wasn’t like Matt lived in the “bad part of town” and Grace’s house happened to be the closest. His house should have been perfectly normal, just like hers. But his mother wasn’t the best with finances… Or upkeep… Or mothering. She hated that her family’s good fortune made Matt feel so inferior.

“Well, if anyone can bridge that divide, Donovan… it’s you.” Matt would almost certainly settle quite happily into the small town life, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be a better small town life. He smiled at her, shaking off the seriousness.

“Well, it certainly won’t be the girl who can’t even keep her legs straight.” She punched him, both of them laughing. She gathered her shoes and bag and jumped down onto the still-warm asphalt.

“Goodnight, Donovan.” She called, circling around to his side of the truck. “But seriously. If you’re ever not fine…” she paused, searching for a way to end that statement that didn’t sound too smothering. “Well, you know where I live.” He smiled at her, backing out and pulling into his own car port, before waving goodnight as the side door into the kitchen slammed behind him. Making her way inside, Grace was nearly tackled to the ground by her sister, and she suddenly knew what Matt must have felt like when she leapt on him at his truck.

“Oh my God, Gracie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Aims. I wasn’t…” I wasn’t there. But she was there, was just around the corner when a wild animal viciously attacked a man she knew. “I didn’t even…” I didn’t even see the body. But she had, just before the coroner draped a white sheet over her old history teacher and loaded him into a van headed to the morgue. “Matt found him.” Matt had it worse. That’s what she meant. She wasn’t fine, but Matt had it so much worse, so how could she admit that? Maybe that’s what Matt himself had felt, in some form.

“Oh my God, that’s awful.” Her sisters weren’t at the game, thank God, as Chloe had dance rehearsal and Aimee a date. All of their knowledge was second-hand and incomplete, which possibly made their worry worse. Or would, when rehearsal was over, and Chloe checked her phone to undoubtedly find dozens of messages ranging from factual to wild rumor. “Was it really a bear?” Grace snorted. She had no idea what kind of animal had attacked Tanner, but whatever story Aimee had heard probably involved some hulking Goliath of a grizzly storming onto the football field and biting the coach in two.

“I have no idea, Aims. No one saw anything.” So it was probably not a bear. Something stealthier, like a cougar. “Have you spoken to mom and dad?” Their parents were also out on a rare date night and Grace wasn’t sure if the news had reached them yet. If so, they were likely speeding their way home at this moment. But Grace’s younger sister shook her head.

“I don’t think they’ve heard yet. I didn’t want to spoil date night and tell them.”

“What about your date? I’m sorry it was cut short.” It was Aimee’s turn to snort, sounding just like Grace.

“I’m not. He spent the entire time bouncing between checking his phone and his reflection.”

“Yikes.” Grace knew her sister’s pain. “I guess maybe one good thing came out of this evening then, yeah?” Aimee worried her lip, something clearly on her mind. “What’s up, Aims?”

“I just… all these animal attacks… do you know of anything that could help?”

“What, like hunting the thing down?”

“No, doofus. Magically. Are there… protection spells or talismans or something, so I don’t have to constantly worry about you and Chloe and mom and dad?” As the only non-witch in the family — though their father practiced very rarely – Aimee’s knowledge of magic had limitations.

“Um, sure. Probably. But I’ve already got my jet.” To illustrate the point, Grace held her hands out her sister, the black rings sparkling on her fingers. She wasn’t technically supposed to wear much jewelry while cheering, but the thumb ring was inconspicuous and unlikely to cause problems. It was also a security blanket of sorts. The other one, the one she’d bought for herself only a few years ago, she took off right before cheering and put on again immediately after.

“Yeah, I don’t know if Chloe’s into the whole black-jewelry thing.” If Grace was into it, then Chloe likely wasn’t, more out of conscious decision than personal preference, but it didn’t matter. There were other alternatives. Grace sat at the dining room table, sliding her mother’s grimoire to her sister.

“Pick your favorite, then.”

Grace completely fucking forgot about the Founder’s Party. Like, literally, would not have remembered to go if her mom and sisters didn’t scream at her to ‘go get ready because your date is picking you up in an hour’. Actually, they walked into Matt’s house, uninvited — where she had been celebrating the news that the culprit of all the animal attacks had been killed (a cougar, like she thought) — and marched her back home.

When Jeffrey Lockwood-Hamilton had approached her and asked her to go to the Founder’s Party with him, quote ‘because it’s going to be so boring and you might actually make it bearable,' she’d been flattered, if confused. It wasn’t that she and Jeffrey were unfriendly, but they didn’t associate much, what with him being two years younger. Grace supposed that, the times they had hung out had been at other excruciatingly dull parties such as the Miss Mystic pageant, which Caroline required Grace to go to every year for ‘moral support’. They’d entertained each other while their respective ‘dates’ had been occupied, so she supposed it had become somewhat of an unspoken tradition that she and Jeff would hang out at parties.

So, here she was, digging her red party dress out from the closet and wincing as Chloe none-too-gently twisted her hair into an updo. The dress was pretty, standard, just passed the knees with a simple, straight silhouette and thin straps. She threw on some strappy sandals and grabbed a purse right as Jeff rang the bell.

“Ready to have some fun?” He asked sarcastically by way of greeting.

“Cheer up, Jeff.” Grace coaxed. “There’s always champagne.”

When they arrived, Grace immediately spotted a potential problem: Damon Salvatore, looking unfairly handsome in his dark suit, was on Caroline’s arm, and they were chatting with Elena and Stefan. Caroline was still sporting that weird-ass scarf.

“I’m about to be super fucking tacky, Jeff, and leave you alone for a few minutes.” Grace grimaced as she made her excuse. Jeff laughed.

“You’re fine, Grace. Go say hey. Bring me back a glass or two of champagne if you can sneak it past my mom.” He nodded to the corner, where his mother had one eye on the heritage display and one on her son.

“Sure thing.” As Grace approached, Caroline began dragging a wary Stefan onto the dance floor before spotting the older girl.

“Gracie, you’re here!”

“I am! And you’re with Stefan.” It was a question phrased as a statement.

“Damon won’t dance with me,” Caroline pouted, “but apparently Stefan is quite talented.” He looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Well, he’ll have to be to keep up with you, Miss Mystic.” Caroline beamed at the reminder of her potential title and the compliment.

“Why don’t we find out?” Stefan suggested, motioning Caroline forward. That was clearly code for “let’s get this over with,” but Care either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. Grace continued forward to Damon and Elena, who were studying the heritage displays.

“…I just… I hope you two can work it out.” Elena was saying, in her “Elena voice”.

“I hope so, too.” Damon’s tone rang of double entendre, but Grace dismissed it and made her presence known.

“Founding Families, huh?” She asked, looking over the document they were in front of. “Riveting.”

“You make fun, but you New Orleans-folks have your traditions too.” Elena poked fun right back at Grace, the age-old debate familiar and affectionate. Damon turned to her.

“You’re from New Orleans?”

“I am. I’m Grace.” Knowing he was Stefan’s brother, Grace was beyond reluctant to shake his hand and experience that same slimy emptiness, but it would be extremely rude not to.

“Damon.” He extended his arm and Grace placed her small hand in his, hoping she didn’t look as apprehensive as she felt. His hand was warm, but his soul was cold. Cold and dead, like Stefan’s, but there was something else… a warmth not from life or love, but bitterness and hate and malice all festering inside of him. There’s more than this to him. The Damon she had seen in her vision, the one she had been friends with — closer even than her and Stefan would become, judging from the emotions in her vision — was not this embittered, cancerous thing currently in front of her. So, she pushed deeper and deeper, shoving her way past all the black and bad, until finally, finally, there was something else. Something surprising. Insecurity and… longing. Love, or… something he thought was love. Something that maybe used to be love but was now merely the impression of it. Intelligence still glimmered in every corner of this part of his soul, but it wasn’t the cold cunning of before. It was hard won, a lifetime’s worth — several lifetimes worth — of mistakes and knowledge and experience. This was the Damon she would come to know, someone broken but too proud to show it, who used acerbic humor as both a defense mechanism and a show of support for those few he cared for. Suddenly becoming aware that this handshake was starting to become too long to be normal, she pulled her hand away as he looked her over, assessing. Too deep. She’d pushed her powers too far, had already reached her limit and was practically exhausted and out of breath, like she’d been running. She tried to covertly catch her breath, hoping Damon and Elena didn’t notice.

“Have you been? To New Orleans, I mean.”

“I lived there. Once.”

“Really?” Grace’s eyes widened. It wasn’t often she met other people who’d experienced the magic of New Orleans, let alone lived there. “Do you miss it? I know I do.” He smiled a touch nostalgically.

“Well, it was a long time ago.” There was something in his voice as he said "long time,” the same thing that had been in Stefan’s as he said the same words about playing football. Something that implied more. “But it was a hell of a lot fun.” Grace gave him a once-over.

“You know, Damon, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.” Damon’s eyes gleamed with something even she couldn’t quite place.

“I look forward to it, Grace.”

As Damon and Elena headed off toward the dance floor and their respective dates, Grace noticed Bonnie sitting at a table by herself. She knew that she was ignoring Jeff, but she hadn’t spoken to Bonnie all day, and she had the rest of the party to hover by his side. She made her way over, but when she was a few feet away, the breeze blew out the candle sitting as the centerpiece on the table. Bonnie turned her head, focusing her attention on the candle.

It re-ignited.

Grace stumbled, nearly fell over. Bonnie started, blowing the candle out and glancing around to make sure no one saw. From this short distance away, Grace could feel Bonnie’s budding realization that her Gram’s drunken rambles were true, her fear and confusion, her paranoia and loneliness. And Grace couldn’t let Bonnie believe she was alone in this. So, she righted herself, marched over to her friend, and grabbed her arm. Bonnie looked up at her, obviously scared she had witnessed the candle incident.

“I think we need to talk.” Grace pulled her friend out of her chair and away from bustle of the party. “There’s some things you need to hear.”

#saving grace #masterlist #oc #kol mikaelson #damon salvatore #fanfic #the vampire diaries #the originals #elena gilbert #stefan salvatore #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson

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lurkingcrow · 5 years

Note

Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP: 51 and 97, any pairing.

You know anon, you really lucked out. Because I SWORE that the next person to leave out a pairing was going to get Maul/Grievous whether they liked it or not. But as is happens, @generallkenobi managed to wheedle me into contemplating a plot that fits this prompt rather neatly so you’ve been spared the cyborg courtship this time...

So, Time Travel and Accidental Marriage.

It starts with Commander Poe Dameron really wishing that he hadn’t left BB8 behind at base for maintenance. Because he has no idea what the hell that anomaly his X-Wing is being pulled into is, and the General is going to be PISSED if he gets himself killed before they work out exactly what monstrosity the First Order has been hiding in the Unknown Regions...

He hits the anomaly and suddenly everything is offline and it's a he can do to manage a crash landing on the nearest planet that he SWEARS wasn't there a moment ago!

It's desert. Of course it is. And of course he's injured, not critically but enough that he's going to need medical attention sooner rather than later. But his ship is so badly off that it's all he can do to strip out the emergency supplies, fashion himself some kind of a pack and makeshift crutch and begin walking to find some shelter in the cliffs up ahead.

He's almost there when he sees some kind of commotion, a small number of hooded figures attacking what seems to be a young man with a broken down speeder, and not even stopping to think Poe pulls out the his blaster and does his best to help the kid.

He seems successful, as the figures retreat and Poe does his best to look charming and relatively harmless as he approaches the local.

"You alright?"

The kid's bleeding kind of heavily, but his smile is bright and damn those eyes are blue.

"I will be, thanks to you."

As it happens night is closing in, so they take shelter together in a little alcove. The kid (Luke, he'd introduced himself as) is indeed a local, his speeder having run into mechanical trouble as he was returning home for the day. It's fixable, but the ambush sank his chances of getting it done tonight.

Poe is cautious with his own story, but before he can do much more than mention his crash Luke's eyes light up.

"You're a pilot aren't you? Your gear's from a fighter - are you with the Rebellion?" He asks eagerly.

And ok, it's a little weird that he's using the old name but technically the Resistance is the continuation of the Rebellion, but either way he doesn't seem hostile which is all Poe can want at the moment. Still discretion is the better part of valour.

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. Doesn't really matter given I'm not going anywhere soon" Poe responds, gesturing to his crutch.

The kid seems to accept that, and they pass a bit of time quietly together. Until Poe notices that his new friend is shivering, his shirt having been used as makeshift bandages.

(He definitely doesn't think about all that golden skin exposed to the firelight).

"Here, take this." He offers, holding out his jacket, and Luke shakes his head.

"I'll be fine."

And ok, Poe may not always be the coolest of heads but he is a capable and experienced commander and he knows that's a lie.

"Wear it." He repeats, tone allowing no disagreement.

The younger man looks pensive for a moment but, after reassuring gestures from Poe, Luke does so. Poe tries not to think about how good he looks in it.

Good. No hypothermia. What else is on the "desert survival checklist"? Oh. Water. Good he has a full canteen.

Poe takes a mouthful, careful not to overindulge, and then offers it to his companion.

"Drink?"

This time Luke is definitely hesitant and really, what does he think Poe's going to do? Poison him?

With a huff Poe shakes the canteen. "Look, it's fine. There's enough here for both of us to share. Please. Drink."

Luke's face turns distant for a moment, as if weighing up his options before nodding decisively. He turns to look Poe straight in the eyes a gentle smile on his lips.

"I accept your offer." He says, drinking deeply.

(That should not have been as hot as it was. What is with him today?)

Then Luke grins, full of sly humour.

"You realise this makes us married right?"

***

Luke Skywalker is having a very interesting day. He'd been restless since that morning, the urge to take the speeder out stronger than usual, pushing him to finish his chores early so he could sneak out after lunch and head to one of the better racing canyons. Then there had been the itch in the back of his mind, telling him he NEEDED to take the longer route home, which led to the attack by raiders and the very last thing Luke had expected was a handsome rebel pilot emerging from the sand to save his life!

It sounds like something out of a holodrama.

And then it turns out that Poe really is the helpful sort, helping bandage Luke's wounds despite his own injuries and finding them shelter for the night. The part of his brain that sounds a bit like Uncle Owen tells him that he shod be careful, that Poe is still a stranger, but there's another, stronger, part of him, deep in his soul, that tells him this is a Good Man, a person to be trusted.

A hero.

Luke's instincts have never failed him before, and so he allows himself to relax a little. Perhaps if he's never he enough he can convince Poe to take him with him when he leaves.

(Or if not, maybe he can at least get a goodbye kiss, the pilot is so VERY pretty after all)

The jacket is unexpected. It's not as if Poe himself is in much better shape than Luke, there's no real reason for him to... huh.

If he hadn't already been thinking about the traditional stories it would probably have passed him by, but Poe has chosen to defend Luke from his foes, provided him a place at his fire, and freely offered him shelter from the elements, all at his own expense.

Really, all it needs for this to be something out of one of the old romances is...

Water. Poe is offering to SHARE his water.

This can't be real. Luke should just speak up and tell Poe what exactly he's offering...

And that part of him that always seems to know things screams for him to remain silent.

Poe is getting agitated but Luke needs to THINK. There has to be a reason why everything in his soul is telling him to let this happen, he needs to keep this man by his side.

There's logic there too. Poe is going to need help, and time to recover before he can rejoin the Rebellion. But on a planet like Tatooine he's more likely to be sold out to the imperials for a rich reward. But if Luke marries him, it makes Poe FAMILY.

And on Tatooine family is everything.

Well then. It looks like Luke is getting a pretty husband of his own.

He drinks, and the water tastes like destiny.

***

"What do you mean married???" Poe exclaims, eyes wide, before the Kid holds his hands up in a calming motion.

"It's an old tradition, a way of temporarily binding clans together for short periods of mutual protection. If you want we can pretend it never happened and custom says it will dissolve at the next moon's turn regardless. But..."

"But?" Poe asks, and Luke blushes.

"But, if you want a safe place to lie low and heal you're not going to find better than our farm. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru wont like it, but if you're my husband they're not going to turn you away. When time's up I'll give you a lift to the spaceport and you can do your own way from there."

It's a good offer. There is something distinctly off about this while situation (not so much Luke, who seems pretty damn genuine, but the anomaly and the planet that shouldn't have been there? Definitely wrong.) and he's being offered the chance to get his bearings and mend in relative safety. All is means is having to call the pretty blond his husband.

... ok. He can do that. His father will kill him once he finds out and there's going to be some ribbing back in the squadron, but there are truly worse dates than this

Poe's silence is obviously worrying Luke, who immediately beings apologising and insisting that it doesn't have to be anything more than a in name only thing, and as cute as the babbling is Poe is going to need sleep soon, so he uses a single finger to press against those lips and hush the younger man.

"Why don't we just see where this goes hmm?" He offers with a sincere smile which is soon matched by Luke's own.

"Yeah, ok" Luke breathes (and oh it's really flattering to be looked at like that). "Wait, I just realised, I don't actually know your full name?"

"Under the circumstances," Poe starts, "I think it's probably safer for both of us if I take your name for the time being. So tell me, husband, what's my name?"

And this time Luke's grin is brighter than the twin suns and oh Poe definitely wants him to smile like that always.

"Skywalker. Your name is Poe Skywalker, husband to Luke Skywalker."

Wait.

What?

Hang on.

Oh FORCE!

Poe feels distinctly faint, his new partner's face (Luke. Karking. Skywalker. Young and bright and not even a Rebel yet) watching him worriedly before the darkness rises up to meet him.

What a mess.

...

Yep! There we have it! Just before TFA Poe Dameron meets just before ANH Luke Skywalker and ends up getting hitched. After Luke wakes up Poe from his faint they do indeed end up making it back the farm and Poe does his best to win over the parental figures (which he does, he's helpful and polite and really if it weren't for the fact his existence fosters Luke's desire to leave he would have Beru's full approval). At some point a certain old hermit shows up to scope out if Poe is a threat to Luke...

("You don't belong here." Says Old Ben. "Oh thank the Force, no I really do not!" Poe sighs in relief before spilling the whole story because if anyone is going to know how to fix this it's a JEDI. Poe does NOT want to toy with timelines if he can help it.)

But then of course the Empire comes calling and Poe starts to discover how very different it is BEING in the story to hearing it from someone who was there. On the other hand he gets to travel on the Millenium Falcon and thats something his childhood self could only dream of!

I have more ideas on how this AU fleshed out but it's late and my head aches, so that can be left for next time :)

#anonymous

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this-girl-loves-batfam-comics · 6 years

Text

another night, another fight- a Tim drake/ Jason todd fan fic

Summary:

Tim can’t help it. He can’t stop himself. This was not how he wanted to let it out. He didn’t want to let it out at all. But he failed. His mask was down. He was now lying on this cold roof, bleeding. Why? Why did it have to be Jason? Of all people why did he have to break down in front of Jason? Why wasn’t Jason pulling the trigger? He was begging him ‘do it’ because he knew he Jason may be the only person who’d do this favor for him. He was begging. Now he was crying. He was sobbing. He was still saying ‘do it’.

Notes:

read at your own risk. i wrote this to help people who suffer from depression and suicidal desires. there's always a way out. if any of you want to talk to someone when you feel like ending it all, you can always talk to me, as a stranger, i wont judge. please leave a comment or even a thumbs up here's a link to contact me https://this-girl-loves-batfam-comics.tumblr.com/

Work Text:

Another night, another patrol, another fight, another dead body, another regret and the na another morning Tim Drake sat on the couch in the lounge, a dusty, messy coffee table in front of him a broken LCD, corners of the room crowded with empty take out containers, the smell of expired food, the dust all over the small apartment building, the smell of blood dripping from him on the couch, the whole place smelled like a morgue. No, it smelled like death. He didn’t realize how long he had been sitting there, but he knew it was more than a couple minutes. The blood dripping from his left arm had stopped and the blood around his cut had dried. The blood on the couch and the coffee table was now dark in color. He laid halfway on the couch his feet legs on the white carpet now all covered in blood. He was there , just staring at the ceiling, it didn’t even hurt anymore. All those cut he took, they didn’t hurt at all, nothing hurt. He was empty. He was dead inside. After maybe a hour, or two, Tim couldn’t remember, her dragged himself to the smelly bathroom that hadn’t been clean in weeks. Toilet papers were all over the place. There was no soap. He took off his torn suit, threw his belt and cape on the bed and stepped under the shower. The water was cold, but he didn’t neutralized it with the hot water. He just stood. In the cold water. The blood from his arm. And hid fingers dripped all over the white tiles, slowly into the drain. The water was cold. But he couldn’t feel anything. He stood there. For 10 minutes. Maybe less. There was no soap. He didn’t bother. He dragged himself out without a towel. In the chills of November he didn’t feel cold. He didn’t feel the sword cut that had been better if wiped with medicine before exposing to water. But Tim, didn’t care. He just didn’t care anymore. Then he felt something, after hours he felt hunger. He opened the fridge, there was nothing. Nothing at all. It wasn’t really like this. Alfred always restocked his apartment. Cleaned it. Wiped it. With fruit cleansers. The smell of strawberries. But no, there was no Alfred. He was overseas for a month now. No one even knew Tim was still in Gotham, in the country, he was supposed to be in honk Kong. With Cass. Cass didn’t know he was coming so she didn’t ask why he didn’t come. Bruce though he was in honking s he didn’t check. Tim had been operating in the undergrounds so no one spotted Red Robin in the city. But what they didn’t know that Tim was barely alive. It was Lady Shiva yesterday. Her sword passed through Tim’s stomach, he barely made it home after she declared him weak, and that he had failed her test. What test>? He couldn’t remember. He did what he could with the patch work. Unfinished stitches. Just enough for him to make it to the next day Today it was killer croc in the sewers. He threw him hard against a pipe line. Tim may have a few broken ribs. Then he smashed his head in the wall. So hard then he almost passed out. While he ran to escape, his dizziness made him slice his arm from the sharp ends of a sign board. On his way back to his apartment, he lost grip of the grapple but thankfully he wasn’t that high up. He crashed on a GCPD mobile. But he collected himself. He walked. He ran. He climbed. He made it home. No. not home. The hell of his apartment. He looked around for his phone. To order another take out. But he could find it. He found a sachet of powdered coffee mix. He heated the milk. He made a cup. It tasted horrible for some reason. But he drank it. It was his medicine. The only thing that kept him sane. Or maybe, he just believed that. When he passed out he didn’t remember. When he woke up, it was night. It couldn’t have been the same night. It was 3 when he came home and the dark outside was certainly not of the dawn. No. he slept the whole day. How? His head hurts. But he remembers swallowing pills before. One of them must be a sleeping pill. Tim gets on his feet. His head hurts like hell and he can barely keep his balance. But he makes it anyway to the lounge to find blood all over, then he remembers the cut, at the very instance he feels the world of pain. From injuries he took months ago and the ones he took this week. His body felt paralyzed from all that pain. Every limb and tissue was hurting so much that Tim collapses on the ground. He just wants to lay there. He doesn’t was to get up. He doesn’t want to stay up. He wants to sleep. He wants to die. He wants to be at peace. Reason? He didn’t have any. No. he missed someone. He missed Steph. She left him. It was his fault. He missed dad. He was gone. He missed mom. Mom? She’s been gone for so long now. Tim is a horrible son. Dick visits his parents every month. Bruce does every Friday. Even Damian goes to Ra’s grave from time to time. He? He never once considered it. He’s a bad son. He misses them. Hell, he misses Dana. She was nice. She cared. He took them all for granted. It’s his fault. But were they the reason? He misses them often. He’s just having another episode. Another wave of desires. An urge to just end it all. He often had no reason, but why he felt like this was a mystery. He put on the suit. Once again. Another fight. Another night. Another cut. Another dead body. But Tim wishes it was his. This time, it was he who lies cold on a roof. Or a street. He didn’t care. He just wanted to hide. He takes out his grapple, fires it to the nearest sky scrapper. He swings looking down. Should he just loose the grip? It would be just one horrible accident and no one would blame him. His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a gunshot. Then another. And another. He follows the direction. A roof. 3 dead bodies. 4 standing. The look like agents. There’s the Red Hood. Why would he kill government agents. They looked like FBI. Tim needed to stop him so he leaps forward. Tackles the Hood pushing him into the ground while the agents run. “What are you doing?” Red Hood struggles under his grip. “You’re not taking another life on my watch” Tim fight to keep him grounded. “You little…they’re getting away” Red Hood knees Red Robin in the guts pushing him on the side and takes the shot. He’s good. Two guns. Four bullets and the agents are down. Tim eyes are widened in shock. Then anger takes over. And he leaps on the Hood. “You monster! Murderer!” he shouts punching Red Hood on the face. He is now down on the ground but he’s also angry “I don’t want to fight you, Red” he says calming himself but Tim doesn’t listen. He’s angry. 4 men got killed on his watch. He’s to blame. No! It’s Hood’s fault. And he didn’t stop him. “You killed them! In Gotham! We don’t kill!” he shouts punching the older boy’s jaw “`What’s wrong with you Tim? I didn’t kill anyone” Red Hood is now less angry more confused. He blocks Red Robin’s blow and punches but for how long. A kick sends him flying off the roof but Tim is good and Red Hood knows it. In an instance his grapple is fired and he’s now climbing back. The two fight. At first Jason held back, because he was concerned why Tim was acting that way. But he only had so much patience If it’s a fight you want, you’ve got it” Red Hood’s swing sent his crashing on the ground. Now they’re both fighting with the fullest. A few more minutes. Jason has a broken rib. Tim has a bleeding nose but they’re still fighting and Red Hood is winning. Tim isn’t used to let anger guide him but Red Hood takes full advantage of rage. So, He’s wining. Tim is now on the ground. Sweating. Bleeding. His hairs over his face. Jason has a foot on his throat and a gun pointed to his face and he is huffing. Gritting his teeth. His helmet is broken from the right side. The Red domino mask hides most of his expressions but he’s angry as hell and Tim is now mildly afraid. Another minutes and Jason doesn’t take his foot of his throat. Tim chokes for breath. “Just… just do it already” Tim chokes on the words but he feels so good saying that. “Do it” he snaps now. Jason removes his foot from him “do it!” he snaps loudly again still on the ground. “Do it, dam you!” he’s now pleading. “DO IT. I BEG YOU. PULL THE DAMNED TRIGGER” hot tears are now dripping on his cheeks. Jason tucks the gun back. He’s now just standing, bewildered, shocked. He’s looking at the sobbing Tim. Who’s still murmuring ‘do it’ Tim can’t help it. He can’t stop himself. This was not how he wanted to let it out. He didn’t want to let it out at all. But he failed. His mask was down. He was now lying on this cold roof, bleeding. Why? Why did it have to be Jason? Of all people why did he have to break down in front of Jason? Why wasn’t Jason pulling the trigger? He was begging him ‘do it’ because he knew he Jason may be the only person who’d do this favor for him. He was begging. Now he was crying. He was sobbing. He was still saying ‘do it’. Jason’s tall figure standing front of him. There wasn’t a gun anymore. He was just standing there. Looking on him. He was confused. It was all going black. And maybe- maybe- he was finally getting his wish. It was all going black. He was dying. It all goes black. ----- When Tim wakes up, he finds himself on his bed. He tries to feel the headache he gets every time he wakes up but it’s not there. Is he dead? Is he dreaming? Because this sure as heck wasn’t how he left his room. The curtains of his small window are open wide. Sunshine is lighting up his room. By the looks of the room, it’s probably 10 am. Tim struggles to get out of bed but his back hurts so much but still he manages to sit up straight. Rubbing his eyes he looks around the room. It was definitely his room but it was…so clean? The dirty laundry that was around the room just 10 hours ago was gone. The empty coffee mugs were gone. His sheets were replaced from the bloody ones to clean ones. His room smelt like strawberries. Alfred? Tim thought to himself. Maybe Alfred was finally back. But how did he get back here? Then he remembered. Fighting. Loosing. Passing out. And Jason! Then he heard rattles from the kitchen. Someone was in his apartment. Please don’t let it be Jason. Please. He was practically praying in his head. Tim quickly got out of bed ignoring his back. He was still in the body armor underneath his suit but his cape and cowl were gone. Tim opened his door to the lounge to find the mother of all nightmares. Jason was standing in his kitchen leaning against the counter beside the running coffee machine. He was looking at his phone and didn’t notice Tim. Tim examined him and the kitchen standing at the same place by his door for minutes. Jason was wearing one of Tim’s hoodie which was a lot loose on Tim but fit perfectly on Jason. The dirty dishes were all gone. The plates were in their places. The mugs were all neatly on their stand. The trash bin of the kitchen was now clean and empty. Tim stood there in shock looking at Jason, part of him wanted to kick his ass, the other part wanted to run away from this embarrassment he brought upon himself last night. He wanted to smash his hated against something hard to avoid Jason’s acidic comments he was about to give. After a minute probably, Jason looked up from his phone at Tim. Slightly smiling at him “How long are you gonna stand there?” he asked turning toward the machine. He knew Tim was there all along. Shit! Tim took a few steps forward to look around. The laundry was now in the machine. The couch was all clean. The floor all mopped and cleaned. The trash was gone. It was just like it was when Alfred visited. God! Tim wished to heaven that Jason could get replaced by Alfred right now. But sadly this was not happening. Jason would probably hold this against Tim for years and Tim was feeling stupid for ever leaving his apartment last night. Stupid! Stupid! “Here, I now you can’t function without this” Jason said handing him the coffee mug and throwing himself at the couch. His feet were on the coffee table and he was now turning pages of a book. Probably one of the books Alfred left for Tim to read in his ‘spare time’ “What are you gonna stand here for the whole day? There’s a plate of toast on the counter. Get it yourself and fill that stupid stomach of yours” Jason ordered still looking at his book. “What are you doing here” Tim managed to asked picking up the plate “You’re welcome, you turd” Jason hissed throwing the book on the table. “Now, fucking eat so I can get the hell out. Damn Alfred for making me do this” Jason grinned slightly annoyed but otherwise in a good mood “You…You told Alfred?” Tim asked setting himself on the other end of the couch. “I’m not the den mother of this god forsaken family. Besides, you were scaring me” Jason said quietly not looking at Tim “Who else? Tim asked a bit afraid. He was sure the whole crew knew about his episode by now and they were probably waiting to ambush him and humiliate him about it right outside his door. “No one” Jason hissed looking a bit annoyed. “You didn’t expect me to run to Bruce with your dead body. He can go to hell. Damned idiot is gonna get another killed” Jason’s voice was full of anger but Tim could hear the concern in it. “It isn’t his fault” Tim retorted sipping his coffee “Yeah. Like hell it isn’t. Everyone thinks that” Jason said carelessly folding his hand on the back of his head. “Seriously, Hood. Bruce has nothing to do with it. I.. just get like that sometimes” Tim didn’t want o have this conversation. He didn’t want to talk about last night at all. Much less to Jason but here he was, having the conversation, with Jason, about last night. Sigh. Life was so messed up. ”yeah ‘that’ you get like ‘that’. And it’s his fault. Should have let you have a normal life. Bastard doesn’t know how much he’s fucking up people” Jason once again said angrily. But at least he wasn’t picking on him like Tim feared. “You…killed those men, last night” Tim changed the topic setting the empty mug down. A bit of anger took over his voice “First, you’re supposed to be in Honk Kong, aren’t you, second, how long ago did you tune into the frequency we all use?” Jason said readjusting himself to meet Tim’s gaze “I… yes, I am supposed to be with Cass. And no, it’s been a week since I tuned in” Tim replied looking at the empty coffee mug ignoring the fact that Jason ignored his question. “Well then birdbrain, they weren’t men, they were effing bio mechanical androids that penguin smuggled from star lab’s shipment. Not like I wouldn’t have killed any fuckers but just for your information.” Jason explained sinking deeply into the couch. “I didn’t know” Tim said a little guilty. “But you could have said so” he defended “Yeah” Jason scoffed “pfft, like you gave me a warning before you decided to take on me. You little shit you broken my ribs too” he moaned placing his hand on his rib cage “Sorry” Tim said quietly looking down on his lap. “Hey!” Jason warned sitting up “don’t have that look on your face you little! I don’t think I can handle another one of your episodes. Two broken ribs are enough” Jason sounded a bit worried but Tim couldn’t help but giggle at his pleading “I’m leaving. You’re welcome you little weasel.” Jason said standing up and walking towards his jacket. Tim watched as he took off Tim’s hooded shirt and put on his own. Then sliding his jacket back up. “Here” Jason said holding out the red shirt in front of Tim who was now smiling a bit “and it was such a soft shirt too” Jason added standing there with the shirt still in his hands. “No, keep it” Tim smiled. “It’s big on me anyway” “Okay, but I’m not giving it back” Jason grinned at him folding the shirt. “oh and next time Tim…?” Jason’s voice got serious. “hm?” Tim asked ”next time, go talk to Dick one some one. Babs perhaps. Don’ let those fuckers give you nightmares. You’re too young to be visiting the other side. It’s not great, from personal experience” Jason said tucking the helmet in his arm an d opening the apartment door. “Thanks” Tim said softly. “…For not telling Bruce. And for… not killing me” “Nah, I’m just saving your kill for a rainy day” Jason laughed a bit, and Tim let out a giggle too. “By the way, you owe me like 400 dollars. I restocked your stupid fridge” Jason said stepping out the door “400!” Tim’s eyes widened in shock “I was sure to pick up the most expensive products” he smirked at him before walking out the hallway “You ass!” Tim called back but he wasn’t angry. He was happy. He felt good. He stood there even after Jason left his sight. He just stood there feeling good. Better than he had in a long time. The end!

#tim drake #jason todd #bat family #suicide #depression

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buzzmery · 4 years

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How To Be a far better Wife: 11 Tips To think about

How To Be an honest Wife Let’s talk all about the way to be a far better wife.

Does this thought have you ever scratching your head? These ideas are here to assist.

Let me start this off by saying I do know it takes two to form a wedding work. Team sports for the win!

But don’t spend an excessive amount of time analyzing if you ought to attempt to make a change until your husband changes x, y, and z. Don’t do something supported by what your partner is or isn’t doing.

Look inside yourself. believe the way to be a far better wife today!

How to be an honest wife! An all-around better person.

This is not a contest to ascertain who is doing more work and who is doing it better.

Making a change is for yourself even as very much like for your spouse.

I included my husband in on this one. I even have been loving hearing his combat things.

Yes, it is often hard sometimes. He may have used the word trapped during a conversation. But there’s little question in my mind that those hard conversations cause better things.

Dare I exploit the word breakthrough?

Now, this might surprise you. But I'm no marriage counselor. Although, some days I desire one.

But I'm hooked into thriving in my marriage. to mention I do touch research is an irony.

Just like there's nobody size fits all with parenting. an equivalent is true for marriage.

These are things I make it a priority to figure on. I'm constantly evaluating myself and my relationship with my hubby. Doing a touch check-in you'll say.

You know when the check engine light comes on in your car.

Well, picture a light-weight like that for your marriage. Keep things running smoothly with these tried and true tips.

This post contains affiliate links, which suggests I'll receive a little commission, at no cost to you, if you create a sale through a link. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

Here Are 11 recommendations on the way to Be a far better Wife and Improve Your Marriage 1) Give Him Some Space OK, so I'd be the lady waiting at the highest of the steps like an eager dog when my hubby gets home from work. and that I am armed with a minimum of 3 things to inform him about my day.

And I follow him around to whatever room he goes in. Oops. Now, I don’t do that to harass him. I'm not purposely invading his personal space every second.

I am just legitimately happy to ascertain him. and therefore the incontrovertible fact that he isn’t running into my arms has been known to harm my feelings.

Even though we all know most are different. It is often a challenge to accept and understand this. then adjust accordingly.

I am comfortable with him invading my personal space most of the time but that’s not how he's employed. And that’s fine.

There are worse things than him wanting some space. albeit sometimes my heart feels a touch broken.

I am performing on TRYING to ascertain things from his side and not take everything so personally.

2) Know His Love Language This one may be a game-changer. For you and your spouse.

Knowing a love language can assist you better understand the various ways people give and receive love.

If you've got no idea what this is often then you're certain a treat. This book is so helpful!

I can consider a couple of (OK a lot) of times I wish I might have had this handy marriage tool. But luckily I do now.

Does this mean we sleep in marital bliss?

Sometimes.

Does this mean I understand him a touch more?

Also sometimes.

But I assure you this book helped us understand one another more.

3) Compliment More Do you give compliments regularly? I'm not talking about gushing over your spouse. I’m talking about small things.

These little things can take a backseat during a marriage. Life goes on and that we forget to only stop and say something nice. Isn’t that crazy. We forget to mention nice things.

I try very hard to form sure I'm dispensing compliments daily.

Compliments give me a touching pep in my step. I'm pretty sure it does an equivalent for my husband. and every one the opposite men out there.

One last item. Don’t roll in the hay just to urge something reciprocally. that kind of defeats the aim.

I know I even have been guilty of this. Staring him down so hard and most the time he's watching me with no idea why my eyes are bulging out of my head.

This is a reminder to all or any folks that a compliment is 100% for and about the opposite person.

4) Criticize Less I am a professional at giving my two cents. Who isn’t?

I’m sort of a cat able to pounce.

But sometimes an individual doesn't want advice or your combat things. they only want to be heard. Listened to.

I am performing on knowing when my combat things aren't needed. Man, this is often a tough one. Especially once I desire I even have the solution or I do know a far better way. My mouth and my brain start having an inner argument.

My mouth has been known to win but what am I able to say. I’m a piece ongoing.

And ladies, sometimes we do know best. Am I right?

5) means Something Good a day Some days this may be easy peasy. Other days, it's going to take some deep thinking to return up with something.

But I still try. It doesn’t need to be anything huge. I even have found that it is that the little things that matter. These are the items that fall flat the cracks.

This also involves being thankful. I find myself browsing the motions and not stopping to be grateful.

Showing appreciation for the items my husband does. Even when all I would like to try to do is call him out for x, y, and z.

My husband is the best daddy to our female child. So, even on the rough days, there's always that tiny nugget of excellent.

Even when it feels challenging, find, and acknowledge the great in your spouse.

6) specialize in The Positive He doesn't get to hear about every little annoyance that occurred in my day. Becoming a negative Nancy may be a slippery slope.

We all have crap days. and that we want to vent to someone. That’s fine and dandy. But my venting was the type that never stopped. It just went on and on.

It is very easy for that to happen. you begin by saying one thing and your level of annoyance keeps rising and you're mad everywhere again. I don’t want something to possess that much control over me.

Focus on the positive in yourself, the positive you see in others, and therefore the positive things in your life.

how to be a far better wife 7) Asking What He Wants/Needs My husband works tons. I do know I'm not alone during this. So, when he's off I tend to form the plans for the day. Without even talking with him. I just tell him what we do that day.

This is another one among those things I am not doing maliciously. But maybe he's not on board with having his entire time off controlled.

Maybe he's feeling tired or drained. Maybe he's mentally exhausted and wishes some alone time.

I don’t know if I don’t ask. I could await him to inform me eventually. But at that time, he has been holding things in and that we all skills that sometimes seems.

We all know the hard part about change. the sole person we will change is ourselves. I know, bummer. Some days, i wish I could change my husband.

But something amazing happens once you work on yourself. It won’t happen overnight but it's pretty safe to mention you'll see a change in your spouse.

Fingers crossed, ladies!

8) Give Him Guy Time Girl talk makes me feel alive. Seriously. It makes me feel rejuvenated.

So, maybe it does an equivalent for him?

This one is tough on my behalf. In my mind, his eagerness to spend time together with his friends is not eager to spend time with me. But it doesn’t work like that. Some days I would like ice coffee and a few days hot coffee is my ally.

It is not always about choosing one thing over another.

I am black and White. The struggle is real, friends!

A bonus to the present is him having some guy time is additionally an ideal opportunity to specialize in some self-care!

I planned and began this blog while he was playing video games together with his friends!

9) leave of Your temperature I need to form an attempt to try to things that aren't my exact cup of tea.

Like when it's his address pick the movie for date night. I desire there's no way I will be able to like his pick then find yourself loving it.

I am not the foremost adventurous person around. And I’m fine with the way I'm. But a part of being during a relationship is doing things for the opposite person. Even once you don’t desire it.

10) Speak Up Ever hold something certain goodbye that you simply word barfed everywhere your husband.

And maybe, within the beginning, it wasn’t an enormous thing. But it grew and grew sort of a weed. Now, it seems like there's a dang 20 foot oak inside you waiting to burst out.

Communication is crucial. (Don’t miss these communication tips that are vital for your relationship)

The biggest mistake I wont to make was saying those certain two words. “I’m fine.”

Those words mean anything but that. I might say they then hold things in and expect him to read my mind. I assumed I used to be making it obvious I used to be not fine but apparently, he just thought it had been my time of the month or something.

The deduct from this?

Talk it out. Always!

how to be a far better wife 11) Watch Your Words Does this sound familiar? you usually do x, y, and z. You NEVER do that or that.

These words were my best friends. once you are mad about something, it can desire things are always or never a particular way. Especially when this thing went on before.

The best thing I can do when my blood is boiling is to require a moment. Hit the pause button.

If a screaming match starts, neither one among you is listening. you're just thinking of what you're getting to say next. Your next insult is on deck.

And this does absolutely nothing positive for your relationship.

Marriage isn't a one-person job. But sometimes it can desire you're alone. the reality is marriage is going to be hard. I stray far away from using the word easy in the least when it involves relationships.

There are different seasons. Sometimes a tough season will sneak up on you. Like snow in April. Rare in my parts but it's happened. It just happened the opposite day.

Now, I still get mad. I still say things I don’t mean and exaggerate situations. So does he. So does everyone. But I attempt to speak in a way that helps move a conversation forward.

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sarahinzhuhai-blog · 7 years

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A day on the town: 拱北 and 公共汽车

Today started off great--I'm feeling much better and no longer have to hit the WC (that’s my new word) every thirty minutes. I woke up at a normal-person-time, and then my dad (who I still can’t understand) made me some noodles and urged me to eat another banana. I also tried this pork sausage that I liked because the taste reminded me of txorixo. I told my dad it was similar to a Basque meat and I think he said they’re going to buy some more. A bit later, 笑笑 woke up and my mom went somewhere, so I practiced piano for an hour and then chilled on my phone, which I do a lot. I feel bad cause I’m always on my phone, but I’m not sure what else to do–they always urge me to go in my room because there’s AC in here...hopefully after classes start I can be more productive. I tried reading Harry Potter in Chinese and that worked out alright. 笑笑 and I talked about how we both cry when we read the series and I found out she’s never seen the movies!!! I’m going to see if I can get hold of a copy to watch with her before I leave. // Lunch was a big spread of this really good beef, cooked greens, cucumber and egg/tomato (which is a thing here)–so delicious! I mostly ate broth and rice because my stomach is still recovering, but it was still 👌. Then it was time to go to Gongbei!//We all met at a really swanky hotel lobby and let me tell you, it was SO nice to see friends (and tbh, speak English for a few hours). Some kids are really happy with their host families, like me, and some are having a really bad time and sliding down the W curve pretty hard. After almost all 20 (21 if you count Grace, which I do) of us showed up, we were off! 走吧！// We spent most of our time in Gongbei in the underground market. By that I mean, this whole market was literally underneath a square. There were dozens (hundreds? I'm not sure--it was like a labyrinth) of shops packed in there, selling everything from 小笼包 to knockoff Rolexes to drones. Everything was very cheap (or could be bargained down). We split off into groups–some were trying to get knockoff versions of fancy brand items. After some group switching, etc, I ended up with Shayley, Sydney and Lexi. My groups goal was to find as many shirts that said nonsense things in English as possible. Our key find (which Lexi ended up buying after we got Grace to help us bargain down) was a shirt that said: “ACTION PURPLE PROVE WHO CAMERA” …if that doesn’t speak to you on a deeply personal (metaphysical, as Grace said) level, nothing will. Other notable finds included: a dress that said "BASIL", a brown camo shirt with pink letting that said "horny," a waterbottle reassuring us that “Tomorrow Will Be Sexy” and a phone case that read “UNI F***” (without the asterisks). All in all, I had a fun time but my fun was tempered by the large crowds, back pain and questionable bathrooms (although at this point, I’m proud to say I’m well acquainted and comfortable with squat pots). One of the coolest things was these ladies dressed in really elaborate blue and white dresses and headdresses to advertise for their store. I took a picture with one of them (which felt like a role reversal since people often stare at us here since we are foreign or ask to take pix with us, although no one has asked ME for a picture yet), but it’s on my actual camera, so that wont be on this blog until much later. // After a while, our groups reconvened. While I bought nothing but a very confusing milk tea, some people had bought knockoff shoes, bags, glasses, watches, and the works. A lot of us were very tired, so we went outside to the square above the market and sat for a while. It was really beautiful–there were big golden characters above a building that said Gongbei Port (I think it's all fancy because that’s the entrance to Macau…we were just yards away from the border but don’t worry, we stayed safely within the country limits!) and some pretty fountains in a reflecting pool surrounding these black stones with more golden lettering about Gongbei. We (me, Shayley, Grace, Maya, Anthony, Alec, XY, Lexi, Richa, Josh, Sydney and maybe others) hung out on the steps after checking out the 7-11, which carries stuff very different to that which you find in America, until it was time to go. Some kids stayed later (and I had been given permission to stay out until about 7 or 8, specific instructions were “come home when you are hungry”), but I was tired and didn’t want to go back in the market, so Alec and I headed off to find the bus. // To find the bus. Haahahahahahhahaa...Such an innocent phrase until you realize you don’t know where you’re going and have a command of the Chinese language worse than the average six year old. We went to one stop and couldn’t find the right line. Then we asked a police officer and he was saying words I didn’t understand, so I had him write it on my phone. Then I understood the word but I still had no idea what he was saying, so we nodded and then crossed the street to find someone else. Next station wasn’t the one we were looking for but had the right line. However, it wasn’t showing up on the app, so we asked a lady and again could not understand. We got nervous about it not showing up on the app, so we headed down toward where the station we were supposed to be at was supposed to be. We asked a DIFFERENT police officer, understood (finally) and FOUND THE STATION! Success!!! It was so hot I was winded just from power walking. We boarded the bus and set off. // Since this stop was the first of the route, me and Alec were both able to sit down. A few stops later when Alec had already gotten off, the bus was so crammed it felt unsafe. By the time we got to my stop, I wasn’t sure I would be able to get out. So I did my most assertive stand-up-and-push-through-the-crowd and made it out! Then I successfully got home without getting lost (win!) and had a very confusing interaction with my dad (I believe he asked me: “I thought you weren’t getting home until 8. Did you come alone? Ok eat a banana” and then sort of just disappeared). My first successful public transport experience in China! Take 2, 3, 4, etc will be going to school every day. // A few minutes later, my sister came home and gave me a water bottle--it's so cute!!! We hung out, she gave me some math problems to solve while she studied for her exams, and then we ate dinner. Everyone was very shocked when I put a little bit of this pepper paste in my broth because it is VERY spicy (辣辣的!)but it was very good. After dinner, I gave my host family their gifts (the photobook pages got totally warped from my mosquito lotion exploding in my bag! I’m so sad!), went for an early shower and now it’s time to sleep! I'm exhausted after a great day with friends, but excited for classes....First day of school tomorrow! ✌️️ (PS My phone is being temperamental and won’t let me post pictures from HK, of my family, etc so use your imagination for now, hopefully I’ll be able to post them soon)

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boshawbearclaw · 6 years

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Flames In The Ashes Chapter 5

Dead dove: do not eat

The week after Lucas gets settled in his trailer is when he gets the call telling him to come down to the set for a table reading on Friday, its Wednesday today.

Lucas likes his trailer, its big enough for him and his new black pitbull, Brutus, who is laying in bed beside the Georgian. Lucas rolls over to wrap his arm around his dogs body, cuddling the large baby.

"Flying cross the desert in a TWA

Saw a women walking

Cross the sand--" His alarm rang loudly, playing one of his favorite songs by Waylon Jennings, Lucas groans as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand behind him, grabbing it he hits the button a littler harder than he intended but hey its silent now, save for the radio playing in the kitchen.

He groans as he rolls over to sit up, he plants his feet on the ground then pushes himself up off his warm comfortable bed who is begging for him to come back and bury himself in the weighted blanket. Lucas stumbles tiredly over to his bathroom to piss, after he's done he heads over to the kitchen to get a sandwich.

As he made a monster of a sandwich, he heard his little monster, Brutus, wake up and make his way to the couch, the big boy hops on the couch and sits down to stare at his owner. Lucas looked up at Brutus and smiled when he noticed the bully was staring at him, expecting him to give Brutus a piece of ham that was piled onto his sandwich.

"Alright, B you win." Lucas says with a cute smile that plastered its self to his face, he grabs a piece of ham and tosses it over to Brutus, the large baby catches it in his mouths and swallows it whole. "Good boy Brutus!" Lucas shouts excitedly.

When he finished making the sandwich,he sat on the couch and watched cartoons while eating. "Patrick your genius is showing." "Where!?" The TV said, Lucas chuckles at the joke. Brutus grumbles and paws at Lucas' thigh, "Need to piss?" He asked the black pitbull, the dog barked and got up to bumble to the door of the trailer.

"Ah i see, well your gonna have to gimme a kiss first, Bubba." Lucas said slyly, the dog jogged over and licked the mans cheek, "Thank you buddy, now we can go."

He got up and let Brutus out of the trailer while he trails behind him.

The sun was shining, barely any clouds in the baby blue sky, a few trailers down another door slammed shut with a yell echoes through the park, "Lucas?! Is that you?" A man yelled, scaring the living shit out of him.

"Haha Ho-lee-shit, it is you! I aint seen you since highschool!" The man jogged over to Lucas only stopping a few feet away from the skittish man, "Uh i dont remember you, w-who are you?" Lucas mumbled.

The man had slicked back hair, a slightly thicker pencil mustache with a soul patch, a leather jacket with a black shirt underneath it along with torn up blue jeans and brown boots with the laces untied, he noticed Lucas staring and decided to snap his fingers in front of his face.

He blinks, "Sorry uh, whats your name?" The Raven haired man says quietly, "Oh right, i'm Randy, we used to hang out with our best friend Raw dog underneath the bleachers at lunch remember?" Randy said excitedly, the memories of the trio hanging out with weed and stolen beer, bathroom blowjobs and late night burgers at Mc Dicks came back.

"Oh shit, yeah now i remember, you were the one who was always on his knees for me all through science class in the bathroom." Lucas says with a straight face before he cracks up with loud cackling, he grabbed onto Randy's right schoulder to steady himself.

Randy started to laugh as well, "Yeah i always did that, didn't i?" The man grins, "Walk with me wont you?" Lucas asked when he'd calm down, the other man nodded and started to walk with Lucas and Brutus.

"Thats a big fuckin' pit bull you got there, whats his name?"

"His names Brutus and he's the best fuckin' thing to ever happen to me." Lucas said as he pets his big baby, "So where's Raw dog, he still around?" He asked in a soft tone, "Hell yeah, hes still around, he's in my trailer sleeping off a hangover."

Lucas grins as they walk around the trailer park, Brutus pisses on almost everything on their way to Randy's trailer, they hoped up the steps and barge through the door.

The trailer was a tad bit messy, but the thing that stood out the most was the nazi flag hanging on one of the walls, "Nice flag, you with the AB?" Lucas asks, Randy smiled softly at the compliment.

"Yeah, me and Raw dog joined up few years back, are you?" Randy said as he sat on the couch, a tad surprised when Brutus walks over and demands scritches. "Yeah, still am, got initiated when i was 10." In the other room Raw dog awoke from his lovely nap when Lucas and Randy continued to talk, he rolls over in Randy's bed and gets up to put his clothes back on.

The man wore a rugged thin flannel, a styx shirt underneath it, torn up jeans and boots, along with a fingerless glove on his left hand. Raw dog was beautiful in his own way, that was one of the things that drawn both of the boys to Raw dog in the first place.

Lucas and Randy were watching TV when Raw dog came into the living room, "Oh shit, its you, your back man. Where did you go?" Raw dog asks in utter surprise. "I was admitted to a mental hospital 10 years ago, ive been there since, i just got back a week ago." He said shyly, they were shocked to say the least.

Raw dog held his arms out, clearly expecting a hug, which Lucas got up and gave him a big hug. He wraps his arms around his best friends waist and buries his face into his neck. "Mm i missed y'all so much, god it's been too long." Lucas mutters into the guys neck, Randy got up and squeezed his way into the middle of the hug, "Don't forget 'bout me."

"Hah, never." Lucas declares as he nibbled on Randy's ear while gripping onto them both, they break away from each other so they could sit on the couch and watch TV. Lucas sat in the middle while the other two sar on either side of him. Raw dog got a little horny so hes now sucking a hickey onto Lucas' neck while groping his crotch.

Randy decided to get on his knees in between Lucas' legs, he undoes his button and fly and takes out the already throbbing length. Raw dog joins Randy on the floor and they both started licking Lucas' cock up and down teasingly before mouthing words against the hard flesh from base to top.

Lucas growls softly as his head drops back, Brutus grumbles and trots into the kitchen to sleep, Randy sucks on the head of the mans cock when Raw dog whispers in his ear before situating himself behind Randy. Moments later Raw dog is balls deep into Randy as Randy is deep throating Lucas' big cock.

Groans filled the trailer as they get closer to their own orgasms, Raw dog was the first to cum then Randy then Lucas. The boys collectively sigh and grunt in exhaustion. Raw dog started to laugh as memories of when something like this first happend to the trio flooded his doped up mind.

Randy smacked Raw dogs head, "Boy did you hear me? I said get me something to clean up with!" "Shit sorry!" Raw dog squeaked, Lucas chuckles as he urges Randy to sit on his dick. "Cmon darlin', i wanna fuck you this time." Lucas said with possession in his voice.

Randy nodded and stripped fully out of his jeans and boots before climbing onto Lucas' lap, "Raw dog, hold off on finding that shit, cm'ere!" Randy hollers, Raw dog appears a moment later with a heavy blush on his cheeks. "Aw are you blushing, Raw dog?" Lucas teases as he pushes Randy's hips down, his ass taking all of Lucas' cock.

Raw dog scampers over to the couch to watch while he jerks off, its like his own real life porno. Randy's hips smack down hard as Lucas' hard cock pummels his prostate, the mans big hands grope Randy's ass cheek. Randy's tongue flops about as his mouth hangs open, Lucas fixes that when he fondles his tongue with his own in a messy kiss.

Randy's orgasm was hot and loud, as for Lucas, he moved his mouth down Randys neck and was bitting him to muffle his moans, making Randy's orgasm even better. Raw dog on the other hand finished a while ago, seeing his lovers fuck turns him on more than anything.

When they clean up, Lucas went home with the boys in toe, when he opened up the door they shuffled past and toppled over eachother to get to the coach, "guess im making dinner then." Lucas mumbled, after dinner all three of them winded up in bed fast asleep.

After all it was a very tiring day, plus its Lucas' big day tomorrow.

#flames in the ashes #my fanfic #my oc

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