#could you just whip out a brick or something and chuck it at them and they wouldn't be able to see it

[egginfroggin]

Ingo and Emmet, by the timemost of the fic takes place in the Mistborn AU, have certain strengths and weaknesses, and certain parts of their respective fighting styles that are rather unique.

This got so long. I thought too hard.

Got some claustrophobia stuff here, too.

Anyway:

Ingo's main weakness is that he is essentially a false Mistborn and does not, in fact, have the ability to burn all Allomantic metals. He gave himself the ability to burn metals other than iron by way of Hemalurgy -- specifically, by using slender pins, like very large needles.

(There's a certain irony and logic in the fact that he hunts Steel Inquisitors and yet has made himself into something resembling the same thing that he seeks to eradicate)

As such, there are certain things he's unable to do -- tracking someone by sensing the metal they burn, for example, or hiding his own use of metal. Most of the metals he burns are very noticeable -- steel and pewter, for example, though he also uses tin to amplify his senses for the purpose of self-preservation.

Also, claustrophobia. Very bad claustrophobia. He will panic if he's shooed into an enclosed space, especially at night -- an alley, an underground tunnel, a small room, anywhere small and confined.

Emmet's main weakness (outside of his linchpin) and is the fact that he constantly burns tin. As far as I can recall and tell, Steel Inquisitors don't really see normally -- having metal stakes driven into your eye sockets will do that to you, I guess -- and instead "see" by way of sensing metal. So, the presence and absence of metal. I think.

(One of the twins clocked him in the face with a brick, once)

(No you don't get context) (yet)

This is something that he's gotten used to, but being unable to see what's around him makes him exceptionally uneasy at times -- especially because of the fact that his hearing is not the best. It isn't the worst, but it is not the best, either.

Thus, he burns tin. It's almost constant, giving him an edge by letting him pick out the sounds of things nearby, such as sneaky little gremlin twins or murderous brothers or similar such threats. But this is for picking out small sounds -- he uses quite a bit of tin, as a result, and his hearing can be very sensitive at times, to the point where overly loud noises can be debilitating until he stops burning.

Now, fighting.

Ingo is very nimble, and accurate when moving via iron and steel. He's acquired quite a bit of flexibility and precision with his movements -- a lingering result of squirming around underground and trying not to shred his arms completely when reaching for atium beads in the Pits of Hathsin -- and when firing coins.

But here's where he gets fun.

His steelpush isn't the most powerful -- imperfect Hemalurgy, the pin spending too much time outside of his body, and such, has made it so. Coins are good, convenient weapons, but what about other pieces of metal, like shrapnel?

What about adding poison to the mix?

He wears gloves -- thick leather gloves that the shards won't cut through. The shrapnel cuts through skin with far less force than a coin, and if he's decided to use poison, well, isn't that convenient?

(I just really like the idea of Ingo knowing a lot about poison and toxins; it's fun, and in this case, I feel like it's something that's plausible)

Emmet, on the other hand, excels at close-quarters combat. And if he is given a weapon, he will dual wield. Knives? He's got two. Probably four, just in case one of them breaks. He knows when to flare pewter to hit especially hard, relying on his own natural speed and skill to get close, and when to burn it in the background to dull the pain of any wounds, to conserve what he has.

He hits hard and he hits fast, and you'll probably have either broken bones or a good number of lacerations by the time he's done with you -- if you're still alive.

Anyway, I just think these guys are neat. And that the idea of Mistborn using shrapnel in place of coins would be terrifying.

[w2sarcher]

hiii i know you havent posted in a while but if you are still taking requests would you do blurb or smau of harry and reader buying a new house maybe in guernsey or london and its just cute domestic vibes ? love your work :)

ahhh love this idea!!! i'm still taking requests just been a bit slow getting round to them all because i'm back at uni and have a load of work i need to do :( but hope you enjoy this little blurb!!! xx

home | harry lewis

summary: y/n and harry move in to their forever home

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mostly just a cutesy/fluff blurb but references to sex at the end

The day had finally come for Y/N and Harry. The day they were about to move into their new house. Sure, they had shared a quaint but homely London flat for the past five years, but now they were onto bigger things. Their first proper forever home. 

To say Harry was bricking it was an understatement. Of course, the pair had done their fair share of moving around, life tucked away in cardboard boxes, but this was the real deal—probably the last time they’d ever have to do this, and God, there was so much to do, and Harry felt completely hopeless. He’d spent the last half an hour trying to get the garage door to open, slapping the remote aimlessly with his hand to try and get it to work, and pulling his hair in defeat when it didn’t. It turns out he had been using the wrong remote the whole time, and instead of opening the garage door, he had been toying about with your house's light system, the lights inside the house flickering on and off as he sighed in frustration outside unknowingly. He was stressed, and Y/N was inside, thinking they had faulty electrics.. It was a great start. 

Another five minutes passed, and Harry had given up, deciding his car looked much better parked on the driveway anyway, and took it upon himself to unload some more boxes from the boot of his car. He walked up to the house, rummaging in his pockets for the house keys, cursing under his breath when he saw sight of that stupid remote that had caused him torture for the last few minutes—he'd have chucked it in the bin at this rate, but knew Y/N would give him a telling-off for being so silly. Shoving the key in the door, he opened the blue door that had drawn the pair in the first time they came to view the house—his favourite colour being blue and Y/N loving the pop of colour it gave—a warm welcome to future guests that the two would definitely have. He placed the two boxes he had managed to carry from the car and kicked off his Air Forces, abiding by Y/N’s  ‘No Shoes’ rule that she had gone on and on about, not wanting to dirty the brand new floors. 

He could hear the faint sound of some pop song he didn’t know the name of as he made his way down the hallway, a fresh smell of paint wafting into his nose. He leaned on the doorframe, not before tapping his finger to check if the paint had dried and luckily it had as he couldn’t think of anything worse than getting paint all over his new hoodie. He could see the woman he loved trailing around the kitchen, cupboards open, and boxes all over the marble kitchen counter. She had a determined look on her face as she placed different glassware and plates into cupboards—shiny new ones but also some that Harry had recognised from their old flat. She couldn’t see him as he watched her intently, struggling to lift a heavy box that was filled to the brim with more kitchenware. He knew he’d ought to help her because she was struggling, but the sight was something to enjoy, and a smug look was present on his face as he watched his love scuffle around the kitchen in her pink crocs and his old jumper that was a few sizes too big for her. 

‘’You need a hand, lovely?’’ he teased as she whipped her head around at the sound of his voice, plates nearly falling out of her hands.

‘’Fucking hell, Harry’’ She gasped, steadying the plates in her hands, leaving them down on the counter as she looked properly at him. He had a cheeky grin on his face that made her want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. ‘’Don’t sneak up on me like that.’’

‘’I would have warned you, but I can’t bloody hear myself think over this shite music.’’ he laughed as he made his way over to the counter and pressed the volume down on the speaker that was bellowing endless pop tunes. 

‘’Don’t hate on Sabrina Carpenter; she’s an icon.’’ 

‘’I haven’t a clue who that is.’’ Harry narrowed his eyes at her as she made her way towards him, wrapping her hands around his waist. 

Looking up at him, Y/N laughed, ‘’Course you don’t, you old man.’’ With a kiss to his lips, she smiled, and she took her arms from his waist, wanting to get a better look at him. ‘’How was your day?’’

‘’Was alright.’’ Harry sighed, ‘’Saw the lads for a bit and picked up the last of the boxes from storage, but that’s all. How was yours?’’

‘’OK. Better now you’re home.’’ she smiled. 

The word home almost made Harry’s heart explode out of his chest. It just sounded so good and so right. This place was home, especially with the two here together. 

‘’Think there’s a problem with the electrics though; the lights kept flickering earlier. I hope this place isn’t haunted - they never advertised that.’’ She laughed. 

''Oh, for fuck sakes.’’ Harry cursed, pulling her hand so that her body was nearer to him and away from the counter. ‘’Well, at least I’m here now to protect you from anything scary.’’

Y/N snorted, ‘’Some job you’d do at protecting me—you're scared of everything, silly.’’

''Oh, shut up and gimme me a kiss.’’ he said before separating the space between them once again. 

✩ ✩ ✩

A couple of hours had passed, and Y/N and Harry had managed to unpack all the boxes from the kitchen, living room, and bedroom, leaving all the others piled up in a spare room, ready for them to tackle the following day. To say they were exhausted would have been an understatement.

‘’I’m here all day tomorrow.’’ Harry hummed, ‘’What’s the unpacking plan?’’  

‘’Hmm, I’m thinking we start with the spare rooms.’’ Y/N yawned, her body relaxing into Harry’s body as the pair lay on the sofa, his hands delicately playing with her hair. ‘’Then maybe we could do your filming room; you’ll need that soon enough, won’t you?’’ 

‘’What about your office?’’ Harry asked, knowing Y/N loved her little office she had in their old flat. The two loved one another’s company, don’t get them wrong, but sometimes it was nice that they had their own separate little rooms where they could get on with whatever they needed to that day with no distractions—Harry mostly shouting at his computer filming a More Sidemen video and Y/N working on her fashion blog, headphones on so she didn’t hear her lover screaming every ten minutes. 

‘’That can wait. You need your room done more than me; you have all that filming to do.’’ She poked at his side. 

‘’You’re an angel, d’you know that, ’’ Harry smiled. ‘’We’ll try to do both.’’

Y/N hummed into him, knowing that they probably would only end up doing one room before Harry ended up getting distracted while he unpacked, finding some random useless item he had kept from 2014. ‘’We’ll try.’’

‘’You feeling tired?’’ Harry asked as he kept playing with her hair. She always got tired whenever he did it, usually lulling to sleep half the time, but Harry didn’t mind; he enjoyed watching her pretty eyes flutter to sleep, knowing she felt safe in his embrace. 

‘’Not really.’’ She lied. ‘’Why, what are you thinking?’’

Pulling his hand from her head, she looked up at him dreamily, and it was like she could see the thoughts spinning around his head as he watched her intently. 

‘’Just thinking we haven’t christened the house yet is all.’’ He smiled, a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. 

‘’Christened the house?’’ Y/N laughed, moving to prop herself up to get a better look at her smirking boyfriend. 

‘’Yeah, you know, like they do in the movies.’’

‘’What sort of movies have you been watching?’’ Y/N snorted. 

''Oh, shut up, don’t you start,’’ Harry tutted playfully, ‘’Y’know what I mean.’’

‘’Go on then; tell me more.’’ Y/N teased.

Harry laughed. So she wanted to indulge him. Thought she was tired? Bullshit.

‘’Just feel like we’ve got a lot of rooms to christen, big house and all,’’ He pressed a kiss on her cheek. ‘’I’m thinking we start upstairs and work our way around the house.’’

‘’All in one night? You’ll be knackered.’’ She teased again.

‘’We’ve got forever, lovely, not just the night,’’ Harry smiled. ''Plus, I think you’ll be the knackered one once I’ve had my way with you.’’ Pressing another kiss on her other cheek. 

‘’Is that so?’’ Y/N’s voice spoke. Yeah, she wasn’t tired anymore at all.  

‘’Yes, doll,’’ Harry grinned, ‘’Don’t pretend you don’t know it.’’

‘’Hmm,’’ she sighed before getting up from the sofa, untangling herself from his grasp and the mounds of blankets that surrounded them. ‘’Race you upstairs then.’’ She said this before legging it out the living room door. She could hear Harry groan from the sofa as she waited momentarily outside the doorway, not wanting to run too far ahead of him. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life, chucking the blankets and his phone to the side as he raced out the door to see her not that far ahead of him, nearing the staircase. 

‘’Thought you were faster than that, lovely.’’ He laughed as he chased after her, hands flying out in front of him to try and take hold of her hand but failing as she was always just a few inches ahead of him. 

‘’Come on, slow coach.’’ She echoed from the top of the stairs, and he could see that his hoodie that she’d been wearing for the past few hours had been discarded over the bannister. What a menace, he thought. 

With her just out of sight, he took heavy steps up the stairs before pausing at the top, letting out a sigh of happiness. His favourite girl in the world, running around their house as she shouted for him from their bedroom—he could so get used to this, he knew that for sure. 

Their home together, forever.

✩ ✩ ✩

a/n: hope you enjoyed this little blurb!!! i'll try and get back to doing my requests and series updates more frequently - just need to find the time x

[sea-jello]

train of events + my constant thoughts of lego led to:

ninjago characters in a dodgeball game

of COURSE powers and spinjitzu are allowed. who do you think they are

except for cole. cole is not allowed to use his super strength to throw anything because it will put a hole through something or someone

that being said, tiny tiny earthquakes to throw someone off balance is not off the table

definitely targets jay

you already know kai and jay are competitive as fuck. both in the game and in screaming bloody murder the loudest

i think they would both use some elemental power to charge up the throw, like that short where they’re chopping bricks (i forgot the name lmao)

jay WHIPS the ball like no one else (cause lightning 😎) AND plus the lightning charge up?? bros out for blood

little bit of a sore loser but he forgets about it pretty quickly

kai is such a sore loser let’s be honest now

but if he wins he’s holding it above the others forever

i think he’s got shit aim lmao

in fights he’s so used to making a big ass blast of fire and shooting it in the general direction he doesn’t need to aim

that being said he definitely torches the dodgeballs midair

regardless of if they’re about to hit him or not

zane however has scarily accurate aim, being a nindroid and all

he always hits them on the shoulder

he’s not above freezing the floor and making them slip. you would think he is, but he’s not.

mfs got strategies and scenarios planned out and everything

he is here to WIN

lloyd “it’s just a game guys, lets just have fun” garmadon and lloyd “i will hold a grudge against the person who got me out for the rest of my life” garmadon are ideas that could and absolutely do coexist

i think he’s a bad thrower. like he CAN throw, he’s just not as good as the rest of them

gets people out by catching the ball more than actually hitting them (he’s got practice with catching HANDS)

nya absolutely decimates them

goes easy on jay and is out for kai’s head

jay SAYS he was going easy on her, and in return she nails him in the stomach with a ball

jay is no longer going easy on her

she’s just as much of a sore loser as kai is

wu and garmadon would play something like dodgeball when they were younger

it mostly involved chucking whatever they could find at each other at random times

garmadon called it training. wu called it being childish and petty

catch him throwing cans straight at garmadons head just to hear the hollow “tonk” sound (if they had cans back then lmao)

so there’s really no way to declare a winner

garmadon says he won though

if morro was alive and/or with the ninja he is here to WIN. nothing less.

if he’s still a ghost then he couldn’t really participate

he’s kinda salty about it cause he knows he would absolutely destroy them

at least that’s what he says

if he was alive tho

fucking jukes everyone. breaking ankles left and right

i like to think he’s agile and fast as hell cause wind and everything

contrary to popular belief he doesn’t use the wind to block anything thrown at him

the point of dodgeball is to dodge. if he gets hit, then it’s his failure and incompetence

THROWING with the wind however,, he’s only playing to his strengths, that’s all

he and lloyd definitely target each other. whoever wins, it’s a matter of pride on both sides

[moral-turpitudes]

More Than Gold:

Trigger Warnings: Kind of Season 6 Spoilers if you haven't seen it yet. Angst, Descriptions of death etc.

Word Count: Idk lol

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Ruby Shelby

Requested by: Anon

Request:

"Please could I have some Tommy x teenage daughter angst? Thank you so much"

“Daddy? Where do we go when we die?” Ruby asked softly, her frail frame shaking with bloodied coughs every moment or so.

“I’d say heaven, but I don’t quite know myself. But you aren’t going anywhere love. Now now. Not ever.” He said, kissing her hand.

“Mum said you were going to find someone that could help me get better?” She asked.

“Aye I am. Leaving tomorrow. Sometimes you can’t trust doctors and their treatments. So I’m going to try to help you alright?” He said, watching her nod with a small smile.

“Goodnight my darling. I love you.” Tommy said, his eyes watering slightly as he took in what he knew could be the last image of his daughter alive. It haunted him with each day that passed. Only making his mission grow more important as time went on.

Over the next few days he’d traveled to where Esme Lee was taking up camp.

“Took ages. Didn’t think you’d be over here.” Tommy said, looking at the tired young woman with hurt in her eyes.

“You only found me because I wanted to be found. Now, Thomas…what are you here for?” She asked, her eyes dancing toward his as the wind whipped around them. The bonfire near her groups caravans nearly blowing out.

“I have a daughter named Ruby. She’s ill. Deathly ill with consumption.” He said.

“Not surprised you’ve procreated again…Now tell me, has she wore a black Madonna?” She asked.

“Yes, doctors are going to try collapsing her lung and if it spreads they’ll try a new gold treatment. Apparently it’s been working decently.” He said.

“They always say that. Give me two days and I’ll have something for you. But I’ll need to be paid for my efforts.” She said.

“What’s your price?” He asked.

“Gold. I want gold, Tommy. If they can use it for medicine it might as well be accessible by now aye?” She said.

“Okay, I’ll get ya gold. Now will this work?” He asked.

“If you have to question it, probably not. Just give me two days.” She said, waving him off to find his own shelter.

Her heart was still broken from Johns death. Nothing could bring him back, but maybe there was hope for little Ruby yet.

Two days passed and Lizzie frantically called Tommy, her voice thick with tears.

“Tommy. You need to come home. It’s in both her lungs. The gold didn’t work.” She said.

“Fuck. Alright I’ll be there in the morning. Is she stable?” He asked.

“For now. Please hurry.” She said, hanging up.

Thomas slammed the phone down on the hotel desk, his eyes blurring with tears as he pictured Ruby lying in her hospital bed, dreading what was to come.

“I’m going to help you Ruby. I swear it…” He said through gritted teeth as he yelled in frustration, throwing his glass of water against the brick wall and shattering it to pieces.

Not soon after, he got back in his car and sped to Esme. It’s been two days and word hadn’t gotten to him. Did she just say that so he’d leave? Or did she really have something?

Brakes squeaked and squelched along the muddy ground as the car came to a halt.

“Esme! Esme Lee! Come out right now!” He yelled, the company surrounding Esme at the camp, slowly getting out of bed and out into the open.

“Quiet down will ya Tommy? Kids are sleepin’” She said, getting out of her vardo with a small vial in her hand.

“Took me own blood to make it, has special things in it that I’m not telling ya, but Polly would appreciate it. Give her the whole bottle. And I mean, every last drop. It’s worth more than gold.” She said, chucking it to him.

“Thank you. I’ll get you your gold.” He said firmly.

“You better. Now go save your precious little gem.” She said, truly praying it would help. As much as she despised Tommy, she couldn’t let a child die.

—

It was 5 in the morning when Thomas had burst through the hospital doors, the staff jumping at the sudden noise.

“Where’s Ruby? Ruby Shelby? I need to see my daughter right now.” He said.

“She’s quarantined, made her a special room sir. She’s not doing well I’m afraid.” One of the nurses said as she led him to the isolated room.

Lizzie soon enveloped him in a hug as she cried, her hope dwindling with each second he was gone.

“She’s dying Tommy. They tried some of the gold. It didn’t work, she’s too far gone.” She said as she followed him to Ruby’s bedside.

“No she’s not, not now. Ruby…I’m here love. Drink this very fast alright? Can you hear me?” He whispered, bringing the vial to her lips as she barely moved to swallow the concoction.

“What was that?” Lizzie asked, her faith in gypsy medicine skeptical at best.

“It’s worth more than gold Lizzie. That’s what it is.” He said, looking at his watch and then at Ruby’s sweet face.

“C’mon…” He whispered, trying to clutch her to himself where she could be safe in his arms.

“We’re going to watch her tonight Mr. Shelby. You and Mrs. Shelby can go-“ the doctor started, being cut off by a unanimous “No.”

“We wait till noon.” Thomas said, praying to Polly and god-knows-what that his daughter can come back to him.

“Give her time. C’mon.” Lizzie said, urging him to lie down on the nearby bench.

“No.” He said, gently picking Ruby up to where he was holding her, cradling her as best he could with all the bandages and things attached to her.

“I have to feel her breathing. Please sleep love.” He said, Lizzie nodding and lying down and laying a blanket over her slender frame.

“Daddy’s here. I’m right here okay Ruby? I’ll always be right here.” He said rubbing her small hands in his, they were cold despite the sweat beading on her forehead.

Thomas told her little stories and sang soft lullabies as he too drifted off to sleep, hoping that in a few hours time she’d be with him again.

—

At noon, Thomas felt a sharp pain in his side as the sun shined down from the hospital windows.

“What was-“ He started to say, before he realized the pain was caused by Ruby fighting in her sleep.

She’d moved, finally in days she’d moved.

“Lizzie…Lizzie shes awake!” Tommy said urgently, Lizzie stumbling over to her bedside.

“Wake up love, just a dream. It’s just a dream.” Thomas said, rubbing her back as she came to.

“Sorry daddy. I was fighting the scary man. He tried to trick you and then hurt you.” She said, her voice sounding a bit clearer.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” Lizzie said, running straight out of the room.

“Who’s Esme?” She asked, Tommy shaking as he realized it was working.

“Oh my sweet girl…she…she was in our family…you’re back…” He said holding her close.

“She’s nice, she and aunt Polly visited me in my dream.” She said, looking up at her father with clear eyes that reflected her mothers.

“Good. My darling, good.” He said, his brain not yet connecting that she was indeed alive. It all seemed like a dream to him too.

“Why is she up? How-how is she up?” The doctor said as he came in.

“I told you I’d help her.” Tommy said.

“What did you do Mr. Shelby?” He asked.

“Trust me, if I knew, I’d tell ya.” He said, gently picking her up and heading out the door with Lizzie.

They both cried all the way home, arrow house greeting them with open arms as they entered. The Shelby family was once again safe, even if just for a while.

—

Years later, 6 to be exact, Ruby had turned 13. Her mother coming in from overseas and Tommy pulling out the chair for her at the grand dining table at arrow house.

“So good to see you my girl. It’s been a while. You’ll have to visit me and Charlie.” She said, her eyes still hiding the pain of her husband sleeping with Mosley’s wife in order to infiltrate his plans. It was a harsh goodbye, nearly causing Tommy to spiral, but Ruby decided to stay with him, saving him.

“You can have as much cake as you’d like if you want love, but just tell me one thing…” Thomas said, holding his daughters hand.

“Do you have any regrets? Blow them all away with the candles if ya do.” He said as he used his lighter to light birthday candles instead of cigarettes for once.

“I have one, but it’s morbid.” She said.

“Oh? How morbid? You’re a blinder, you’ve seen morbid.” He said.

“I…didn’t tell you about the scary man and what he’d said later that day…” She said, her eyes flickering to the flames as the wax dropped onto the cake.

Tommy froze and Lizzie tensed as they realized what she’d meant. The man from her dream all those years ago.

“He said even though I’d beaten him, his business isn’t done. A devils business is never done. I knew he meant you. Polly and Esme…they…they warned me to protect you. To know that there’s still people out there trying to harm you. I didn’t want to say anything but I feel I’ve said it too late already.” She said.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

“Because I know someone will come for you, it may be near your life’s end when you notice, it may be near all our ends…” She said taking a breath, her lungs still scarred from her past illness.

“But, Polly showed me a man with a black rectangle on his face, or I guess a mustache, not sure. Looked quite funny.” She said, a small smile cracking despite the cryptic warning.

“Those are dreams my love, don’t let them haunt you now. We’ll be okay.” Lizzie said, chuckling and kissing her daughters forehead.

Thomas sucked in a breath as he remembered Michael and his plot against him; Gina’s family still wreaking havoc on part of their imports; and remembered the growing tensions with the nazi party and their unethical ideals. It was only a matter of time before they were all in danger but he didn’t think it would be so soon.

“I’m going to stop him. Even if it kills me.” He said tensely, kissing his daughters forehead before heading out to make his plans.

“He’s going to be killed. He has-“ Lizzie started to say.

“No limitations. I know.” Ruby said, cutting her mother off before taking a sip of her tea. She’d felt conflicted, having faith in her father but fear in her heart of what could come. This could be the last mission for Thomas Shelby, and the whole family in general. But like the ticking of her fathers pocket watch, only time would tell.

[sophie-i-guess13]

Young Love

|Words: 1087|

|Characters: Tim + Curly Shepard, Ponyboy Curtis|

|Genre: Fluff|

|TW: N/A|

|Tag! @mjmacchio1991 @apricot-colored-feathers @pepsi-and-cigarettes @the-kneesbees @ralphmaccchiato 

Ponyboy Curtis is a weird kid. I know I don’t have much to go off of, since the last time I’d been to his house was after a Rumble and I could barely stand, but there are just some things you remember for a lifetime.

Growing up here, it makes sense that he’s as skinny as he is, all bones and joints that stick out from the rest of his body. For being the youngest of three, he doesn’t look much like his brothers, either. Maybe I’m just being biased since Curls and me are close to identical, but none of those kids even have the same coloured eyes.

The last I saw of him, Darry’s eyes were blue. Not like, actual blue, but kinda green-blue. Not brown, anyway, not like Sodapop’s eyes are. They’re both quite a bit taller than him, too, and I don’t think age is the only reason.

Having both your parents die in a fucking train accident probably has something to do with the bags under his eyes and the way his clothes fit now- like he could slip right out of them if the wind was strong enough. Ponyboy’s never been much of a fighter, either.

That always seemed pretty weird, for a kid from the east side to not like fighting. Darry and Soda always got involved in Rumbles, they had a tendency to drag their gang with them, too. But not Ponyboy. From what I heard, that kid was happiest with a book, rather than a switchblade.

He’s got a book in his hand now, as he leans against the brick wall of the high school and lets his eyes dart around for his buddies. My brother’s standing with him, which is something that surprises me. Curly’s a year older than the youngest Curtis, but since Pony got to skip a grade, they’re at the same school now. They’ve always seemed to get along, but I’ve never seen him stick around at school with him.

At fifteen years old, Curly shouldn’t need his big brother to make sure he stays out of trouble on his way back from school. I’m not really worried about him- even if I should be, I’m more worried about the Socs always hanging around. He could take care of himself, but I’m not fixing to have the police banging on my door again because some rich pricks got their asses handed to them by a kid.

I lay on the horn after another minute or two and chuckle when Curly whips his head around, eyes locked on mine. His lips move, probably muttering some curse he thinks I can’t make out from the other side of the road. Then, he risks a quick glance back to Ponyboy and waves goodbye. Another thing I would have never expected.

“What’s your problem?” He asks as the door flies open and he chucks whatever he’s used as a backpack into the back seat of my car. Before I can get a good look at him, he’s messing with his hair in the reflection of the windshield, running his fingers through it and tryna slick it back. I shrug my shoulders and look into the rearview mirror before pulling out of my parking spot and revving the engine. “I don’t have a problem,” I answer. “What’re you so worked up about?”

He mumbles something I can’t understand, twisting his hands together on his lap. I guess Curly’s always been a weird kid, too. Climbing a telephone pole and almost busting your skull on the cement when you fall off can do that to a kid. Not to mention all the times he’s licked the floor on some stupid dare, or all the bugs he’s eaten because Angela told him they tasted like chicken. Maybe that’s why he’s been getting so close with the other weird kid in his grade.

“What’s with you and Pony all of a sudden?”

Now, one thing I’ve learned about my brother, is that he’s a good liar. Unless you knew what to look for, you’d never be able to get the truth out of him. He keeps his eyes straight ahead, watching the cars in front of us as we cruise on. He doesn’t get fidgety when he lies, he doesn’t trip over his words, either. No, out of everything, it’s his hands that go red when he lies. He realizes I’m looking when he sighs and lets his head fall back. “It’s nothin’, okay? We- we’re goin’ to the Drive-In tomorrow.”

I’m going over the pros and cons in my head. Getting Curly out of the house for a night would be great, but I’m gonna be the one paying for the night out, I already know that. Before I can think of anything else, Curly groans and slaps my shoulder. “Stop lookin’ like that,” he says quickly, “i-it ain’t like that… Y’know, I’m just tryna get him out of the house-”

“I don’t care what it’s supposed to be, Curls, you got that? Lord knows he’d be a mighty good influence on you.” If Pony can’t get corrupted first, that is. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch his eyes go wide and his cheeks burn a pale red. I’m a greaser and a hood, but I’m not heartless. If that Curtis kid makes my brother happy, who am I to stand in the way? “But you better not be a dick, alright? I ain’t fighting Darry Curtis because you hurt his baby brother.”

His face is split into a smile, but Curly still tries to bury it with a fake glare. “Wouldn’t be much of a fight, Darry’d snap your neck like a toothpick.”

Now, if there ever came a time when Darry wanted to kill my little brother, I’d try my hardest to keep that from happening, alright? But I’m not saying I would succeed. So instead of preparing for a fight that would probably end in my untimely death, I could just drag him upstairs once we get back to the house and fill him on all the things he’ll need to do in order to have a somewhat successful first date. Usually, the first step is to play it cool. Be interested enough that they know you’re interested, but not so strong that it’s suffocating.

That step is already out the window. It’s been a little over a month since Ponyboy and my brother started hanging out more, and he’s already whipped.

Lord, have mercy.

[amarimaryllis]

Sleep-Deprived (Daichi x Reader)

Pairing: Daichi/Reader Prompt/Summary: Daichi overhears you spilling all your feelings about him to Kiyoko. Tags: Fluff Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, Extremely self-indulgent (made this fic just to scream over Daichi) Warnings: Mild swearing, Slight mentions of insecurity

You had a lot of terrible ideas, and pulling an all-nighter just to study for an exam is one of them. It isn’t exactly the worst idea you could muster from three working brain cells, but it’s still terrible. Honestly speaking, it would’ve been fine. It seriously would’ve been fine if you didn’t open your mouth. It was one of the few effects that sleep deprivation had on you: losing whatever filter you had. Words slur from your mouth in your sleepy state, and it never passes through your brain for approval or disapproval. It just goes straight out of your mouth.

It was a team effort though. If only your lovely friend, Shimizu Kiyoko, had not talked you up when you were drunk on the lack of sleep, then maybe you wouldn’t be stuck in your current predicament.

“Y/N?” Kiyoko lightly tapped you on the shoulder, your sleeping form sprawled out on your desk as you try to squeeze in a few minutes of sleep before class starts. “How much sleep did you get last night?”

You shift your head, turning to look at your friend with droopy eyes. “Around“, your yawn interrupts you mid-sentence, “an hour?”

Kiyoko sighs as she pulls her pens out of her bag and arranges them neatly on her desk. “Why did you stay up so late? It’s not like we have a quiz today.”

Your eyes shoot open, a dark look in your eyes as you look at Kiyoko. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” Kiyoko looks at you, her eyebrows furrowed as she tries to make sense of what you’re trying to say. “Did you think we have a quiz today?”

You shot up straight in your seat, feeling slightly betrayed as you thought back to a certain grey-haired setter’s words.

‘I heard that Takahashi-sensei is giving a surprise quiz tomorrow.’

You move back to sleep on your desk, mumbling insults lowly as you shut your eyes. “Sugawara told me that we had a quiz in Math.”

Kiyoko stifled her amusement, not wanting to add insult to your injury. “You actually believed him?”

“Yes.” You answered curtly before proceeding to grumble as you shifted to find a comfortable position. “Evil monster. How could he do that to me?”

“Well-“

Kiyoko is interrupted as her phone buzzes. She grins a little as she looks from the message on her phone to the female hunched over the desk. “Sawamura’s asking if I have notes from Takahashi-sensei’s recent lecture.”

Y/N, despite her sleepy state, makes an effort to play it off coolly. Her eyes remain shut as she mumbles out in reply to Kiyoko. “And?”

“Didn’t you study for math last night?” Kiyoko states as she replies to Daichi’s text with a ‘No, but Y/N has. You can borrow hers.’

You nodded as you tried to calm the racing of your heart. Just hearing Daichi’s name had you feeling all sorts of giddy.

“I told Sawamura he could borrow your notes.” Kiyoko held back a small smile as a plan formulated in her head. One where it would end with her two friends together.

If it was even possible, your heart started racing even faster. Daichi? Early in the morning? You were so happy and nervous at the thought of seeing him that you couldn’t stop your mouth from running. “Oh, he can borrow more than just my notes.”

“Why don’t you just confess?” Kiyoko asks you in a straightforward manner as she opens up her notebook. The girl had known both for three years already, and in those three years, they’ve been doing nothing but dance around their feelings.

At that same moment, someone walks into your classroom. “Kiyoko, where’s Y/N-“

However, neither you nor Kiyoko notices the newcomer, stuck in your little bubble.

You sat up at Kiyoko’s question and went into your rant before you could even worry about who could hear you. “Daichi’s just so perfect? What does someone like me have to offer him? He’s strong, reliable, sporty, smart, and it doesn’t help that he’s really attractive. Sometimes I just wanna go to his mom and say ‘Thank you, ma’am, for giving birth to this god amongst men’. I’m so whipped it’s pathetic!” You huff as you turn to look at Kiyoko. “Like who even gave Sawamura Daichi the right to be this damn fine-“

Your words stop short as you notice the figure standing a few meters behind Kiyoko. “Oh shit. Am I dreaming?”

Daichi stood a few meters away, a blush on his cheeks as he looked to the side and rubbed the back of his neck.

All color drains from your face as the situation hits you like a brick chucked by a world-renowned pitcher. You had just poured your feelings out about your crush and said crush just had to overhear it.

Kiyoko looks at you weirdly before asking. “What’s wrong?”

You’re unable to reply, just staring at Daichi who looked like he didn’t know what to say either.

Kiyoko follows your gaze and turns her head around, and she stiffens in her seat. “Sawamura, you’re here.”

Daichi gulps, his Adam’s apple moving visibly. “Yeah.”

Kiyoko stands up without a word and walks out of the classroom, and you can only gape after her.

“Traitor.” You mumble under your breath as you slam your forehead on the desk with a light thud.

A million thoughts are running through your head. Your brain is working faster than it ever did before, and you’re kind of bitter at how it only works this fast now and not when you actually need it to function. What would happen to you? Daichi probably thinks you’re weird now. Anyone would be weirded out at the thought of your mother receiving thanks for birthing you, right? What if Daichi is so disgusted with you and he just goes away? Worse, what if Suga finds out and never lets you hear the end of it? Oh, the constant torment from him would be so bad that you’d never go to school. Your education would be at risk! All this because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

You were internally screaming, and it was so loud that you didn’t notice Daichi moving to sit in the spot that Kiyoko was in just a few seconds ago before she betrayed you and left you with Daichi right after you made a fool of yourself. You wanted to run away so badly, but you were just frozen on the spot. You could only clench your fists on your lap and squeeze your eyes tightly and hope that Daichi walks away.

The chair screeches loudly as Daichi pulls the chair he was sitting closer to your desk.

You could feel your heart beating even faster because you could sense how close Daichi was, and damn was he real close. As you clench your fists tighter, you could only wish that the floor beneath you opens up and lets the earth swallow you whole.

Warmth spreads through your wrist as a calloused hand encircles it. “Ease up on the grip, you might hurt yourself.”

You turn your head and look at where Daichi is holding you. You couldn’t even look him in the eye as he unfurls your fingers slowly. You relax your hands but the rest of your body is tense, unable to comprehend the situation. Your eyes grow wide as you watch Daichi gently bring your hand to press on his chest right above where his heart is.

His heart is beating really fast, you noted.

You sat up straight and just stared at Daichi, not knowing what to say or do as he gazes at you intensely.

“Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?” Daichi asks as he stares into your eyes as if he was searching for something.

You could only nod in reply, unable to trust your voice in fear that it may come out shaky. Your mind was blank. You couldn’t think of anything. All coherent thoughts were consumed by Daichi’s presence and the feeling of his hand around your wrist.

“Do you know why?” Daichi asked softly as his thumb gently stroked the back of your hand that was on his chest (MAN WAS THAT MAKING YOU FEEL ALL SORTS OF THINGS).

Once again, you were filterless. Even embarrassment was not enough to sober you up. “You’re afraid of me cause you probably think I’m weird after overhearing the things I said-“

Daichi shuts you up by moving the hand that was your wrist to your forearm and tugging you to him before he gently presses his lips against yours to shut you up.

Your eyes were wide.

Nothing was sinking in.

Except it kind of is sinking in.

His lips were soft against yours, a stark contrast to the feeling of his calloused hand that had moved to cup your cheek. You could only close your eyes, melt into his touch, and wish that this moment never ends. Your heart was beating so fast and your body felt so warm as Daichi continued to move his lips against yours.

Daichi pulls away first, his hand still on the side of your face as he strokes your cheek. “If it helps, I’m considering going to your house and personally thanking your mom for giving birth to you.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you look away from Daichi. Daichi doesn’t let you and grabs your chin lightly to make you look at him.

You were so tempted to faint then and there as Daichi gazes into your eyes warmly, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to speak. “This isn’t exactly how I planned to confess, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Shock. Just pure shock. It was written all over your face. Sure, he kissed you, but there are times where you’re pretty damn dense where you needed things to be spelt out for you in glowing neon letters. Hearing your crush confess to you had you feeling all sorts of happy, nervous, and doubtful.

“Y/N.” The way he said your name made you want to melt into a puddle right there. “I really like you. Will you go out with me?”

“Yes.” You grinned widely as you lunged towards Daichi and wrapped your arms around his neck. You still couldn’t believe it, but you sure as hell weren’t about to let this moment fly by you. If this was a dream, then you can only wish that it would never end.

Daichi smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly but gently, not wanting to let go of you now that he has you in his arms, something he had only dreamt about before overhearing your conversation with Kiyoko.

Deep in your mind, you thanked Sugawara. If he didn’t give you false information that led to you pulling an all-nighter, you wouldn’t have blurted out your feelings like an idiot, and you would have never gained this opportunity with your longtime crush.

A/N: Another old fic, phew. This one was the first Haikyuu fanfic I ever made, so it’s not that polished, but I still do like it. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!

[baronesscmd]

@anubis-005 has graciously allowed me to continue writing her sinfully delightful Nene’s Inferno Au, so I bring you the next installment. I hope you enjoy, and thank you. And go check out all her artwork; its absolutely amazing and deserves all the love!

AH! DISCLAIMER! CONTAINS SCENES OF SEXUAL INNUENDO/REFERENCES/SITUATIONS!

 He dropped himself to the ground, pulling her flush against him. One hand curled around her arm as the other caught her chin, bringing her gaze directly to the smoldering golden stare that was attempting to burn her alive. 

Nene's face flushed as he leaned in, tongue flicking over the sharp fangs in his mouth as he tipped his head so the heat of his words brushed against her lips. 

"You won't be needing those clothes."

**

“EXCUSE ME?!!”

Nene felt her pulse stutter and pick up double-time as the demon leaned closer, claws pricking at the soft curve of her cheeks as her whole body burned from his implications. She tried to push away, tried to get as much space between her and the demon before her; he wasn’t having it. The hand on her arm slid around her waist, pinning her tight against his chest as he smirked. 

“Oh yes, my sweet little Angel; that uniform just has to go.”

She felt those claws curl into her sash and tug, and before she could even make a sound, before she could try and push herself away; he moved. His hand slid from her waist to cup her bottom and squeeze, and she shrieked as he hauled her up and over his shoulder. 

He spun on his heel, whistling as he headed deeper into the maze as she tried to get loose. Nene beat her fists against his back and kicked her legs, trying to ignore the sharp curve of his shoulder as it pressed into her belly.

Harder to ignore was the hand hooked around her knees, and the thumb that was making tiny circles against her thigh. Worse than that though, was the hand still on her butt. She struggled harder, flushing as he patted the soft curve of her cheeks. 

 "PUT ME DOWN! AND DONT TOUCH ME!"

Nene let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a scream as the demon chucked, pinching her as he nipped at her hip through the fabric of her dress.

"My my, aren't you a feisty one! You'll be great fun. I can already tell. But you have to behave, my Angel, or your new Master will punish you.

"And while I can guarantee you will not enjoy it, I shall have a delightful time."

She continued to struggle against him until the band around her finger began to burn. She yelped and folded, her chin bouncing into his back as she curled her hands together. 

It hurt, more than anything she had ever experienced. Like something was trying to claw at her soul, to tear her open and lay her bare. She watched through her tears as the demon's tail looped around her wrists, and as suddenly as the pain had come on, it vanished.

"Ah, fun little bit about that Bond, my Angel." 

She stiffened in his grasp as he drew a claw down her thigh before his fingers crept back up to pinch her.

"You cannot disobey me."

Cold stole through Nene's limbs and she went still and silent. The demon laughed, the echo of it reverberating through her own chest in a hollow imitation of joy. The tail squeezed her wrists, and she swallowed back her tears. 

Beneath them, the grassy maze gave way to cobblestones, and she planted her hands against the small of his back as he spun around. 

"Welcome to your new home, Angel."

Nene lifted her head, biting back a gasp at the palace before her; she had not expected something so elegant of a design in Hell. It rose from a tangle of wild roses like a crouching beast, sweeping up into the skyline like nothing she had seen. 

In Heaven, the buildings had been white, and gold and silver-toned. It had felt like walking through a dream, with open shutters and friendly hellos as she passed. This was quite the opposite. 

This was a nightmare of brick, wood, bone, and glass. Shadows hung from the twisted black iron of the balconies like discarded clothes, the stained glass depicting demons in different throes of lust. 

Ivy twisted it's way up the cracks of the black stones, twisting around marble statues carved in obscene positions. She averted her eyes as they passed a set of skeletons, entwined together, forever frozen in the moment of completion. 

And the arch of the grand doorway, before the demon carrying her turned on his heel to march her under it, was carved in stark white bone with the twisted limbs and slack faces of those who had given in to the Sin of Lust.

The inside was as hauntingly beautiful as the exterior, with dark walls and black marble floors. Golden lamps spilled light in fleeting puddles, and Nene saw more than one alcove with the entwined forms of sated bodies. 

He hauled her through the dining hall, whispers rising as the few demons who happened to be awake caught sight of them. Painted mouths disappeared behind razor-tipped nails as she knew they began to gossip, and more than one pair of hungry, hooded eyes raked over her form, leaving her feeling filthy. 

Nene tried to remember the twists and turns he took so she could attempt an escape, but when they passed the same low table with a couple half-concealed beneath it again, she knew he had purposely misled her.

Each path was more confusing than the last, some with high, vaulted ceilings that the light could not illuminate, and others with low curving beams that pulled the shadows close enough to touch. 

And the paintings! Nene could look nowhere and find a patch of wall that was not hung with obscenities. Even what she assumed were flowers, painted in soft brush strokes, resembled a part of her own anatomy that the demon's hand was much too close to.

He took them down a long hallway, the doors at the beginning doing little to conceal the moans and cries of the pleasure-seekers within. She flushed and tried to raise her hands to cover her ears to block out the sounds, but the tail held her fast. 

They turned again, and this hallway was silent but for the echo of his footsteps. His hand stroked from the curve of her waist to the back of her knee before he kicked a door open. 

Nene watched with increasing panic as the heavy wooden doors fell shut behind them, lock sliding into place as her heart sank. She was trapped, completely and utterly. 

She had no time to admire the room, richly decorated in swathes of black and red satin as the demon fisted his hand in the back of her dress and dumped her onto a bed.

It took her a second, as she was consumed by tangled scarlet silk and plush pillows as dark as a raven's wing, that she was not in just any bedroom, tumbled onto a sinfully soft bed. 

Nene was sprawled across the sheets in the bed that belonged to the Lord of Lust, locked in this den of depravity and debauchery. 

She watched with horror as he set a knee to the bed and dragged her closer, pinning her beneath his lithe form as she tried to get away, even though she knew it was useless. His mouth nipped at her throat, tongue sliding up her skin before he sucked a bruise into the tender flesh as he groaned. 

"You taste like innocence and divinity. And I am going to enjoy corrupting you."

He shoved her knees apart and settled against her, and before he could side his hand from her waist to her breast or between her legs, Nene threw her arms against his chest with a cry. 

She wasn't sure who was more surprised as he was tossed back, his black eyes lightening to amber as they both watched the pale gold band form around his tail. She scrambled from beneath him, not getting far before he hooked his hand around her chubby ankle. 

He didn’t draw her back to him, which she found odd, but he seemed more preoccupied with the sharp flicks he made to try and fling the ring off. The swing of it was rather hypnotic, and Nene gasped as his claws bit into her skin as he yanked her down the bed. 

She drew her knees up as he loomed over her, and she watched as his eyes flickered rapidly over her face, as if there was something hidden in her own gaze that would explain what had happened. His mouth split into a wicked smile and he hauled her up, locking one arm around her as she thrashed in his hold as he snapped his fingers. 

Seconds later, three scantily clad demonesses hurried through the door, all wearing the same outfit of a black and white maids uniform, and dipped into deep curtsies. Nene paled as he shoved her forward; the tallest demoness, who had ripped the front of her blouse so that her very generous bust could be seen through the heart shape, caught her by the arm before she could hit the floor. 

“Dress our little Angel in her new uniform; she’ll be joining you in your duties starting today.”

Nene whipped her head around as another of the demoness’ hurried away, the ruffles of her dress barely touching the top of her thighs. He couldn’t really mean to put her in something so revealing, but the sly smile as their eyes met showed that he absolutely did. 

She shrieked as the demons pulled at her uniform, trying to bat their hands away to no avail. The taller one unsnapped the buttons on her collar as the other pulled her sash free, and she could do nothing as the third came back with her arms full of fabric. 

They stripped her quickly and efficiently, though their touch lingered on her skin like a burn. She clung to her thin shift as they tried to pull it off, even as they knocked her off balance to remove her sandals. They couldn’t take her shift, she’d be naked; no one had ever seen her naked. The demoness caught her hands in a bruising grip and bunched the fabric in her free hand.

“Let her keep it.”

They all froze, turning to the Demon Lord reclining on his bed. His grin was as filthy as it was seductive, and Nene tried to draw her hands down to cover herself as his eyes raked over her, his tail flicking lazily against his thigh. She may as well have been completely bare before him with the way his gaze smoldered. 

“Yes, M’Lord.”

She didn’t struggle as they pulled the fabric over her head and harshly tugged her braids free of the collar, didn’t comment as they shoved her into the neat black shoes, muffled a gasp as they tied the bow of her apron with enough force to nearly drive the air from her lungs.

The demons hurried out as he snapped his fingers, one poking back in briefly to drop a mop, broom, and bucket inside the door with a cruel grin before it closed behind her. Nene kept her eyes shut as he crossed the room and curled his hands around her hips. 

There was nothing she could do as he twisted her from side to side and then turned her, trailing his claws across her belly as he pressed his face into her hair. She could feel the curve of his smile against the shell of her ear before he pulled away.

“You might as well look, my little Angel. You’ll be seeing yourself in it for the foreseeable future. Unless you’d like to clean in the nude.”

Nene snapped her eyes open as heat flooded her cheeks, and was surprised to find herself in a uniform that, while still inappropriate, covered much more than she was expecting. The puffed black sleeves left her arms bare, and the dark ruffles of her skirt at least came to her knees. It was actually cute, with the frilled overskirt and pink and white heart over her chest. 

“By the grace of providence we had one in your size.”

She glared at him as he chuckled as he floated behind her, magicing the bucket, mop, and broom into her hands. Providence, as if; more like limitless lechery, she thought as he adjusted her headband. She truly was stuck here, this wasn’t just an elaborate nightmare. 

Nene jumped with a scream as his hand smacked her bottom, cleaning supplies flying as he caught her up in his arms. That damned tail wound around her leg as if it had a mind of its own as he pinned her hands to his chest so he could twirl the ring around her finger. 

“And, my little Angel; a few more things.”

He bent her nearly backward as he slid his knee between her own, the tension in her spine the only thing keeping her from sprawling back over the bed. The ring on her finger seemed to burn with the same intensity as the one tapping against her thigh.

“You will be my personal attendant; you will wake me, bring me meals if I do not dine in the hall. When I do dine in the hall, you shall serve me. Ah ah, I’m not finished,” his finger pressed against her lips to silence her protests, “You will help me bathe, and dress, and cater to any of my whims.”

His hand slid down her back to cup her bottom and bring her hips flush to his. The hard lines of his body settled against the soft curves of her own with a familiarity that made her flush. 

“And I shall allow you to keep your innocence; for now.”

The press of him to the intimate place between her thighs made her whimper and tremble, and he only smirked. 

“Also, you shall address me as “My Lord” or “Master” when you speak to me; is that clear, my Angel?”

Nene dipped her head and mumbled as he shifted against her, his tail tightening around her thigh like a demonic garter. 

“I didn’t hear you, Angel.”

She lifted her head, meeting those blazing eyes with her own as she curled her nails into his chest and watched him wince. 

“Yes, Master.”

He dipped his head, mouth a breath from hers as he pressed their bodies closer together. Heat flooded her at every point they met, and she let her eyes flicker down to his lips worriedly.

“Good girl.”

And then he was gone. 

Nene sank onto the edge of the bed as he swept his hand out and the cleaning supplies disappeared with the spilled water. He pulled open the door of his room and gestured into the hall.

“Come along, unless you wish for me to take you now.”

She shot up from the bed and hurried to the entrance, shuttering as he laid his hand on the small of her back to guide her. 

“You have much to see before you help me tonight, and I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

Nene felt despair sink into her soul as he led her back down those twisting halls. There were more demons now, peeking from doorways and corners as they headed to the servants quarters. Eyes followed her every step, and the whispers hung in the air like a death sentence. 

The Lord of Lust had an Angel for a plaything, and wouldn’t he have fun with her? 

Her master’s hand slid lower as his tail lashed against her with every step, and she bit back her tears. This was her own fault, she had gotten herself into this mess. And she would have to be the one to get herself out. There would be no Divine Intervention to save her; the Angels did not listen to the cries that rose from Hell. 

If Nene wanted to escape, she’d have to do it herself.

And @anubis-005 Thank you SOOO much for this again! It is, as always, an honor and pleasure to work with you!!! <3 :3

[onenerdtwonagas]

Maybe a pred x prey role-play between the two, like he's hunting his prey and trapping him in his coils~

“We have the temple to ourselves today,” Orpheus sighed.

“Mother and Father are out spending the day with Hue in the pantheon’s capitol, Anthea’s off with Vulcan, and Amosis decided to tag along with our parents.”

“Good for him; your brother doesn’t get out much,” Uriah said with a nod, tracing a hand along the stone wall.

“And it seems neither of us is busy, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Nah, Hue said I could take some time off from elemental training. He says I’m coming along pretty well, for someone who wasn’t born with powers.”

He drummed his fingers along a crack in the ancient bricks and smiled as moss sprang up beneath his hand.

“See?”

Orpheus chuckled.

“Look at you, warming up to it already!”

“It’s still weird, kind of, but I think it’s becoming more natural,” Uriah mused.

“Well, if you’re not training with Hue or one of his brothers, and I’ve got no pressing matters to attend to, what shall we do today, hmm?”

Orpheus paused in his slithering and looked down at his husband. Uriah’s mouth twisted in thought.

“Anything in mind?”

“Not necessarily,” the naga said, shrugging, “but I do feel playful.”

Uriah glanced up at him, one eyebrow rising, and then smirked as he carefully stepped around him.

“Playful, huh?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well...you always did like a challenge... Perhaps we could see how well I’ve memorized your family’s temple?”

“You can’t outrun me, precious,” Orpheus purred, playfully leaning over Uriah’s shoulder.

“Maybe not, but I might just outsmart you,” he teased back, ducking out from under him and gesturing to the elaborate labyrinth of stone around them. “Give me a head start and I might just manage to evade you this time.”

“Testing my tracking skills? How very bold of you.”

“Is that a no?”

Orpheus rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before smiling down at Uriah.

“Two minutes. I’d start walking, precious.”

His voice was a low growl, but his eyes sparkled with humor and keen interest. It sent a pleasant spark down Uriah’s neck. The man but back a laugh and turned on his heel, taking off down the nearest hall. Orpheus watched as he disappeared into the shadows and his footsteps faded off. Thirty seconds, a minute, a minute and a half, a minute and fifty seconds... His coils flexed once with excitement, and then he went off in the opposite direction. He knew Uriah was too smart to remain in the same pathway.

“Let’s see how far into the eastern wing my husband got...”

——

Uriah wasn’t one hundred percent certain where he’d managed to end up, but he knew he wasn’t in the central body of the temple where he’d started. He’d crossed through several of Eden’s gardens, and even tried to throw off his path by scaling walls rather than taking the direct stone walkways instead where possible. A few misleading moss tracks here, a little vine snare there—just something to try and mislead Orpheus. He would love to throw his husband off just once, as unlikely as it was. It had been...at least five minutes since his initial two minute start. Not bad, considering he’d married an apex predator.

He paused as something shifted in the distance, echoing off of the walls and floor like sand sifting through a sieve. Scales on stone. Uriah tucked himself into an alcove, hidden by a half-crumbled statue. The shifting of scales grew closer, until Uriah could hear the excited growl rumbling in Orpheus’s chest.

“I know you’re here somewhere, preciousss,” he hissed. Uriah had to stifle the shiver that extended whisper sent through him. Damn, Orpheus knew him a little too well sometimes.

“Why don’t you just make it easy and come on out, hmm? We can get to the fun part quicker that way...”

Uriah felt around the alcove and discovered a loose, palm-sized stone. He crouched down to grab it, freezing as he caught a glimpse of star-speckled scales just a few paces from his hiding spot. Biting his bottom lip, he craned his neck for a view of the hall. Several columns braced the upper level, the spaces between open to a sunken garden below. That could work.

He reared back as best as the cramped space would allow and chucked the stone through a gap in the columns. A distant crunch of foliage and a splash echoed up out of the garden. Orpheus perked, and his coils rushed across the hall as he darted to the wall. Uriah took the chance and snuck out from behind the statue, darting around the corner.

How interesting, Orpheus mused. Ripples in the water, but no other sign.

The naga tapped his claws against the closest column and glanced back over his shoulder. A confident smirk slowly spread over his lips.

“I’ll give you points for cleverness, sweetheart, but I’m not quite that gullible.”

He chuckled and turned down the next hall.

Uriah skidded into a large rounded room, an inner circle of pillars supporting the ceiling. A rotunda of sorts, on the inside. Well, he certainly couldn’t fault Orpheus’s family for taste. But the sound of scales was approaching again, and he didn’t have much time to gawk at the fading murals and old tile mosaics. He sprinted for the farthest pillar and ducked behind, tucking his limbs in close and trying to quiet his breathing.

“That was a nifty little trick you tried to pull back there, Uriah,” Orpheus called out, slipping into the chamber. “Perhaps it would’ve worked on someone else.”

Uriah tried to gauge just where Orpheus’s voice was coming from. The room produced an echo that warped his sense of auditory direction. But he knew he was close.

“Aww, no banter? I always loved our banter,” the naga pretended to pout. “You were always so good with witty comebacks.”

Uriah rolled his eyes. If he couldn’t place Orpheus, maybe he couldn’t place him either.

“Only when you didn’t fluster me to death,” Uriah finally quipped back. Orpheus chuckled.

“Mm, yes, you got the most adorable blush when I’d surprise you.”

“I like to think I’ve improved with time.”

“With your nerve and your hiding skills. I’m impressed...”

His voice sounded...fainter? Uriah realized he couldn’t hear scales sliding across stone anymore. Had Orpheus slipped out of the room? Maybe he could change his place again, buy a little more time to this game. He turned, seeing no sign of the naga in the chamber, and hesitantly traipsed out into the open, debating his options—

“...But not fooled.”

Uriah froze. He whipped around, seeing Orpheus curled around the pillar, leaning inches from his face.

“Boo.”

Uriah yelped, stumbling before Orpheus lightly pushed him back with the tip of a claw. He expected to feel the harsh stone floor beneath him, but instead a tangle of coils caught him. Orpheus’s tail laced beneath his right arm, behind his neck, and down beneath his left arm, holding him back into the swarm of cosmic scales. Uriah struggled for a moment before the strength of his husband’s coils won out, letting his head flop back against it in defeat.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” he huffed. “What’s my time? Ten minutes?”

Orpheus chuckled and hovered over him.

“Something like that. Well done.”

The tip of his tail curled beneath Uriah’s chin as he slipped a thicker coil across his lap, ensnaring him further. Uriah felt heat rushing to his face as his face was lifted upwards.

“Have I ever told you that was a good look for you?” Orpheus purred, tracing a finger along the center of Uriah’s tunic. He managed a shy smile.

“You talking about the clothes, or the coils?”

His tail slid further along Uriah’s chin, curling around his neck and flexing, just enough to tease. A soft whimper escaped him, accentuated by the increasing redness of his freckled cheeks and the growing excitement in his green eyes.

“Both,” Orpheus purred, leaning down, lips just barely out of reach. “But I think I’d like to see you in just my coils, now...”

“Well, the hunter gets to do what he wants with his prey, doesn’t he?”

Orpheus’s eyes began to glow as more of his body swarmed over Uriah.

“Oh, you know me so well.”

[statticscribbles]

Soul

Summary: Kurtz/Reader, Soulmate AU, you gain the injuries of your soulmate and can hear their voice when they sing

You’re watching unimpressed as Malachai throws you a plastic bag filled with clothes.

“Come on, we have to get to school in ten. Your bag is in the car and-Christ you get the bad send-off?” He watches as you move jerkily, deep purple smudging under your eyes, bruises on your wrists and your shoulders.

“You ever been slammed into a brick wall twice over, after getting used as a fucking punching bag, strung up on a hook and everything?” He swallows any comment, opening the bag and handing you your clothes, you tug the crop top on and the flannel over it, before he snorts gesturing to the faint handprints he can see against your hips as you tug the shorts up.

“Aww poor thing, are you sore?” He laughs.

“You owe me so many shakes from that place you brought me lunch from.”

“Pop’s. How hard is it to remember that name?” he rolls his eyes pointing to the back to show you where your bag is, you slide in next to it and buckle your seatbelt.

“Riverdale High, by the way. Southside got shut down while you were in the slammer.” You nod shouldering your bag as Lance starts explaining most of the students.

“Archie and his friends are the goody two shoes group, well besides Jughead, and his gang, although they’re much less violent then the Ghouls.They have some members to watch out for, Sweet Pea, Fangs, oh and Kurtz, although he’s not really a snake. And then Cheryl and Toni with the pretty poisons or whatever game they’re playing.” You nod letting him continue to explain how a few of them had found their soulmates. He continues to talk and fill you in more about the gangs and the tentative truce he’s formed with the Serpents. He parks two blocks away and you give him a two finger salute.

“Thanks for the lift, now I have to go meet Betty Cooper for my tour? The blonde one that’s with Lodge right?” You look to him for confirmation and he nods.

“Glad to see you were paying attention, do you have other clothes? You’ll get dress-coded in that.”

“You didn’t bring me anything else.” You hiss at him as you cross the street moving towards the school.

You’re letting Betty pull you around you can feel eyes everywhere and you wonder if it’s from the bruises peeking out or the clothes. Maybe it's simply because you’re the shiny new student, everyone unsure how you’ll act.

“Not now I’m giving a tour.” Betty breezes by a redhead boy, Archie, your brain supplies. You watch as Betty’s eyes falter at Veronica a blush rising as you spot the identical hickeys on their necks.

“People open about soul mates here?”

“Most are, everyone wants to find their one, ya know?” You nod pretending the anxiety in your chest is from the new school not the dread of someone rejecting you. She prattles on carefully explaining your schedule and is halfway through giving you dirt on your teachers when Cheryl walks up flanked by the rest of the River Vixens.

“You simply have to try out.” She smiles, eyes roaming down your outfit.

“You seem in shape enough, we can always use more trainee’s” You find yourself smiling up at her.

“I’d love to.” You swear you can hear Lance scream in the hallway. You laugh to yourself.

She beams and wanders off, you can see Ethel nervously talking to Chuck Clayton, he’s leering over her in a way that is making her uncomfortable, Betty smiles apologetically at you.

“Sorry let me just pop over and-“

“Hey, Ethel right?” You step forward waving to her slightly.

“We share history, I’m new, in case you couldn’t tell and I was wondering if you could lend me your notes Betty said you’d have no problem doing that and-“ You turn as if seeing Chuck for the first time.

“Oh hello, are you her soulmate?”

“No but I might be yours. Chuck Clayton.” Your eyes light up.

“Oh, Ethel would you excuse us for a second, Betty wanted to ask you something.” You wait till she’s safely out of the way; you can see the rest of the football team hovering you smirk, licking your lips.

“So since you’re new I’m guessing you haven’t heard about me and my-“ You grip his wrist, your nails cutting into the fleshy under part, digging them into his wrist as he jerks it back. You stumble back pretending to be shocked already feeling someone’s hand on your shoulder. Betty pulling you away from Chuck, who straightens up and glares at you.

“Of course you’re friends with Cooper; you should have seen-“

“Chuck, let me give you some semi-friendly advice, since I’m new, and you clearly haven’t heard of me, or where I’ve been for the past few months.” He arches an eyebrow and you can tell a small crowd is gathering.

“It doesn’t matter how well you think you’re hiding it, you hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it; I will rip you apart.”

“Oh really you and-“ You snort as he goes quiet feeling Lance glaring from somewhere, just enough for only Chuck to see.

“You think Betty has darkness, I pity when you meet mine.” You laugh and he turns away from you as you return to Betty and Ethel’s side.

“You two okay? You look a little shocked?”

“We’ve never seen him retreat like that, that was incredible.” You smile and turn your head to your schedule when the bell rings.

By the time lunch rolls around the news of Chuck’s retreat had spread.

“Talk of the town you are, no clue what you did but he’s freaked.” Veronica nods to you and you sit on the edge of the couch watching everyone settle into their usual seats. You stare shocked at Kevin Keller.

“Yes?” He tilts his head as you look away smile on your lips.

“That scar on your eyebrow isn’t yours... I didn’t think I was ever going to meet you, pleasure’s all mine Preppy.” You laugh when his head whips up.

“You know Joaquin?”

“Yeah we used to bunk together, he’s an angel, amazing talker got me out of soooo much trouble in, where I used to go to school.”

“Oh you’re from the Southside?” Kevin asks, just as Cheryl returns with the Vixens.

“Who’s from the southside?” You cringe at Toni and Sweet Pea’s voices.

“This one here and-“

“Never seen them before in my life.” Toni states, Sweet Pea looks at you, his eyes widening as he pulls Toni and Fangs behind him.

“Someone we stay away from. All of us.” You raise an eyebrow at him. You can feel a hand on your shoulder and sigh.

“Yeah coming, what’s up?” You mumble as Lance moves you away and towards the outside area. You don’t look back at the group hearing other voices joining in on the confusion as you walk away. Lance slams you against the wall smirking.

“Good first day so far?”

“With you dragging me off during lunch, no, but for the most part it’s been manageable.”

“What was with threatening Chuck, he do something bad?”

“Well he’s basically the head male; gotta take him down before I do anything else. Duh.” You slide out from under his arms that cage you; you don’t flinch when he slams them back around you.

“No. You are not in that yard anymore that shit will have consequences, they’ll want you to prove that you’re dark.” You look unimpressed and nod.

“Yeah and? I can doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to let them goad me into it. I’m not you.” You slip from under his arms, scowling as he catches your wrist tugging you back, you know someone sees with how they move slightly forward, black hair, potentially Reggie from the football team, one of the safe ones Lance had mentioned. You turn back twisting Lance’s own weight against him and pinning him against the wall, scraping his cheeks against the brick. You lean over your mouth against his ear.

“I am not your plaything, nor am I you. You want to try the usual shit, you’ll be getting my real response.” Lance coughs snarling as you walk towards the school once again.

You sit back next to Betty who frowns and looks to Jughead.

“Kurtz bailing on us again, said he got a lead to who his soulmate is and wants to find them soon.”

“Kurtz? He another Serpent?”

“No, our friend, his soulmate, well we all think they’re being abused, he gets bruises, cuts, and scars all the time, he’s really worried about them. He’s not exactly the friendliest but we still want to help his soulmate at least.”

“How can he hope to find them, like the world is pretty big?”

“He knows they’re here in Riverdale.”

“How?” You look confused and Josie, Archie’s soulmate beams.

“Me. My songs are pretty much only played around this area, he heard them singing once and knows they have to be around here. Hey Reg, what’s up?” Josie turns to smile at Reggie Mantle who walks up.

“You okay?” He nods to you and you turn smiling.

“Yeah I’m good thanks Reggie, I appreciate it.”

“You sure? Seemed like Lance has it out for you.”

“Lance was messing with you?” You watch the Serpent’s tense looking back to the voice that spoke.

“Hey Kurtz, guessing that lead was no good.” The boy nods as he sits next to Jughead.

“Yeah just like the others, now what is this about Lance causing havoc?”

“Chaos actually. It’s his thing, he likes to pretend he’s the new Malachai, mostly just a rip off to be honest.” Sweet Pea nods to Kurtz and you watch as he rubs his own wrist.

“You okay?” You can see a bruise peeking out from his collar, he nods shrugging.

“My soulmate, they get in a lot of fights.”

“Fights? You should probably have a word about that then.” You laugh a little and he scowls.

“Little hard when I can’t talk to them yeah.”

“You can sing right? Sing-ask.”

“Sing-ask?”

“Yeah like you don’t make up a song but you use an already existing song to form out a ‘letter’ of sorts, you can’t use it for places but its good for planning meet-ups. Where are you-“You look confused as Kurtz vanishes.

“He’s embarrassed of his singing voice.” You nod, frowning when you can hear your soulmate singing.

“You okay?” You tilt your head at Veronica as she asks.

“Yeah, my soulmate likes to sing on lunch break. It’s nice.”

“Do you do check in songs?”

“Oh yeah, I usually don’t get to sing much, my dad’s pretty strict.” You bite down the rule you want to spit up. Singing leads to identification; which leads to jail.

“Oh that’s so cute! Do you have specific songs for specific times of the day? Like Betty and I used to sing goodnight to each other.” Veronica places her hand over Betty’s who blushes.

“We have a couple, mainly just comfort songs, I think my soulmate deals with a lot. He's always sad.” You shrug listening to him start and cut off halfway through the song. You laugh a little.

“It seems like he wants to say something, but he’s failing I guess.” You laugh again closing your eyes and focusing on what he’s singing. You can’t help but smile laughing once again as the half song ends.

“What?” Betty and Kevin’s eyes spark.

“Apparently my soulmate wants to meet up, we’ve tried meeting up in the past but my dad found out and kept me home. He thinks I’m too young to find my soulmate; that I still need to mature and grow-up before we meet. I think he’s just scared about me dating.” You cover the truth, your father is scared, not of you dating, but of exposure, you know you can’t exactly bring your soulmate back to the house of the dead, back into the Ghoulies without him first being vetted.

“We can help you sneak out!! Just say you’re staying with me or Betty.” Archie nods excitedly and you smile.

“Alright, I’ll call him now.” You pull your phone out, calling your brother instead. You cringe when you can hear him outside the student lounge.

“Hey, uhh, can I stay over at a friends today? I have to work on a biology lab. Her name is-“

“Call him yourself.” He hangs up and you glare.

“Did he say no?”

“No, he said he was busy, I’ll call during Biology then.” You smile excitedly.

You’re working on the lab in Biology when you step into the lab closet after the teacher said you could call.

“Hey, I was just wondering if-“

“You wanna stay at a friends for the night right? Your brother called and told me. Fine. On one condition.”

“Of course.” You know well enough not to answer before hearing but the thought of meeting your soulmate has you willing to take whatever punishment he deems fit.

“I pick you up in the morning, now which house?” You suck in a breath.

“Let me get her address and-“

“Her name is all I need.”

“Betty Cooper.”

“Glad you’re making useful friends.” He drawls before he hands up, you retreat back to your seat shooting a thumbs up to Betty.

“He just said he wanted to pick me up in the morning.” Betty smiles.

“That won't be a problem we can just explain to your soulmate when you meet him.”

“We?”

“I’m not letting you go to meet your soulmate alone, what if they try to hurt you?” I can hurt them more. You smile at her.

“Thanks Betty.”

“Besides Veronica and I could use a date, where are we meeting?” You laugh a little as a chorus of Pop goes the weasel plays again as it had been for the past hour.

“Somewhere called Pop I think? Well Pop goes the weasel so.” You shrug and Betty laughs.

“Oh that’s clever, is there a time?”

-It’s a quarter after one I’m a little- Pop goes- It’s a quarter after one I’m a little- Pop goes-

“Quarter after one, no clue if its in the morning or not. Since tomorrow is Saturday.” Betty smiles.

“Well Pop’s it is, we can get a late night burger, hopefully he means one am.”

You’re trying not to fall asleep, Betty had insisted you both show up in your pyjama’s and you’d been thankful when she offered for you to change in the bathroom, you wipe the last smudges of the makeup from your neck hoping she wont comment on the lingering finger prints around your throat. She doesn’t as she pulls you to Pop’s mindful of your wrist. You try your best to bite down the tang of rejection, you know will bloom once your father picks you up tomorrow.

“So who’re we looking for?” You blink at her shrugging.

“Someone with this.” You tilt your neck up exposing the full handprint over your throat.

“O-Okay.” She chokes a little and you nod in understanding.

-You’re about to sit in a booth when a hand waves you both over.

“Kurtz, hey what’re you doing?”

“Following a lead, my soulmate kept singing Pop goes the weasel, either they were babysitting or were trying to respond to the message I left. Hey Veronica.” He nods as she walks up smiling.

“Betty I got us a booth so Y/N can wait for her soulmate, on her own.” She nods to Kurtz who arches an eyebrow.

“You’re waiting for your soulmate?” He leans forward slightly.

“Yeah, I’ve been listening to, it’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk and I need you now, on repeat for three hours, so I guess this was the appropriate time. God forbid my soulmate couldn’t just mean the afternoon.” Kurtz snorts.

“Your soulmate a night owl then?” You sit across from him shrugging.

“I’ve probably given him that impression of me. My dad’s super strict to say the least.”

“Strict is a funny way to say abusive, unless he didn’t give you that?” he tilts his head up towards your neck and you catch the hand print on his.

“Oh my god. Shit.” You shift in the seat looking nervously at him.

“What? Is it the Serpent thing?”

“My dad, oh my god.” You look up wide eyed once more.

“You’re the like gargoyle gang guy…...” He reaches out hand brushing yours.

“You don’t have a problem with that.”

“My dad, fucking- I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” You squeeze your eyes shut and can feel him slide over to your side of the booth, his arm wrapping around you.

“Hey come on, your dad won’t know I’m into gargoyles, it’ll be fine.”

“He adopted me when I was five.” You blurt out, and Kurtz smiles.

“See you’re not even related to him, you’ll be fine I promise.” He offers a crooked smile.

“My brother, well adopted brother, Lance. We grew up at the sister’s of quiet mercy, we-“ You cut yourself off shaking your head and curling into his side sighing.

“This is nice.” You let yourself stay curled in his arms trying your best not to think of the scars your father left marking you and Lance as his.

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[shereadsandwritesformelanin]

The Baker And Her Actor: part I [The Delivery!]

Paring: Chris Evans x Black Fem!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris while making a house delivery for the Evans. He can’t get you off his mind, and to be honest you can’t get him of yours.

Warnings: profanity, sexual content, angst, but overall fluff!

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy, don’t be afraid to leave your thoughts opinions and critique’s. All are welcome!

Early morning shifts were apart of your normal routine, but never this early.

You had made arrangements with a costumer. You’d drop off five dozen boxes of your holiday edition sticky pecan maple donuts.

You walk into the bakery the cool Boston breeze follows you indoors.

Walking back you gently place a hair net on, wrapping your body in your favorite apron that said “ All you kneed is love.” It was your absolute favorite.

You hit the lights to kitchen and begin assembling all the ingredients nessecary for this massive delivery.

“Hey sorry I’m late.” Kiara, your employees and best friend said barging in.

She approached you tieing on her apron as well, preparing to help you whip up this hefty batch.

“Okay so like I said these are semi important guest, considering I have to make a home delivery and they gave me a key code. I’m assuming their loaded, so we need to make this our best. Presentation and taste.” You explain to kiara

She nods in agreement sucking in air, you’d didn’t know who was dreading this most you or her.

——-

Packaging the last few donuts Kiara spoke breaking the silence.

“So who is this special delivery for, I mean I get being rich but come on making us deliver first thing on thanksgiving is kind of fucked up.” She complained

You couldn’t agree more, thanksgiving was your favorite holiday and here you were stuck making over sixty donuts at the crack of dawn. You wish you could have refused but you needed the money.

“I know, trust me I understand, and I appreciate you and your vigor. Helping me, waking up this early isn’t easy for you I know that. And the name was- Evans I believe. Sounded like a man on the phone.” You announce

“Evans, in Boston. BITCH!’Kiara shouts. “I’m coming with you, because if this is who I think this is I swear I’m never living this day down!” She continues to Elate.

“Who’s Evans?”

——-

For the entirety of the car ride Kiara couldn’t stop ranting and raving about the infamous Chris Evans.

The way she talked about him would have made you believe she knew him personally.

According to Kiara, he is an actor in the marvel movies, which you’ve never seen. He lives in Boston with his family, and has an adorable dog named Dodger.

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of this hottie.” Kiara said

“Well I know of him I’m just not obsessed like some.” You sass.

Kiara rolls her eyes in your direction. “No matter who he is we have to stay professional. Pretend you have no idea who he is and it’s just another delivery.” You instruct.

“I would, but it’s not just another delivery.”

“Why is that?” You remark

“Bitch because we don’t deliver.” Kiara curses.

She did have a solid point, we aren’t a delivery service. only having 5 employees so you run a pretty tight ship.

But you make it work, you’re only delivering because they asked and offered to throw in a pretty hefty delivery fee.

Looks like we are here.

You pull up to a gated community, from what you could see the houses were huge.

It was a mixture of recently builds and older builds. Overall it was beautiful, The rich really do have it all.

“What’s the code again?” Kiara asks hand hanging out the window ready to punch in the code.

Snapping from your gaze. “Um 369696.” You announce

“Got it.” We watch as the retracts allowing my 2008 Mariner to slip through and up the hills to the “Evans” home.

—-

“Okay remember what I said. No celebrity talk, just hand them the bag say some quick “thank you’s, your welcome’s and we’re out.” You demand

Kiara smirks. “Then we can sneak back later since we have the code, and watch him sleep.”

“Okay see nope, you’re staying in the car!” You shout.

“Why?” Kiara whines.

“Because your a freaking liability I don’t need them thinking we are weird fan girls that happen to bake.” You whisper shout.

“We are weird fan girls that bake.” Kiara chuckes

“We,” is a long shot.” You say getting the donuts out from the backseat.

Placing them in your hands you could feel the heat of them, still warm. And obviously they smelled amazing.

You and Kiara walked up to the Evans home. It was large, modern with a twist. The bricks were a beautiful mixture of cool earth tones and the pathway up to the front door was beautiful.

You could tell the home was designed by a women. The touch was so feminine but with many masculine hints.

“Ring it.” You told Kiara

“Wow even the doorbell sound is expensive.” She joked

Immediately the door swings open and you and Kiara are met with the most beautiful blue eyes.

He wore a red flannel, regular denim blue jeans that fit him well, a navy snap back and held a beer in one of his large hands.

Kiara wasn’t lying he was beautiful.

Clearing your throat before you speak. “Oh Um we are here for Evans.” You sqeak lacking your usual confidence.

Guys always had that affect on you, especially attractive ones.

“I would be Evans.” Chris chuckles sitting his beer on a side table, reaching out to take the boxes from you.

His hand brushes against yours just for a brief moment.

You felt your heart beat accelerate and those damn butterflies explode in your pit.

God, no.

Maybe it was just because he was the last man to touch you in years?

I hope so.

“Wow this smell absolutely fantastic, I know the family will love them. Thanks so much for coming I know you guys don’t do that I just- never mind let me grab my wallet.” He explained

“You know what it’s fine we should get going, enjoy your day!” You almost shout gripping Kiaras arm yankimg her down the pathway practically tearing her arm off.

Chris is left baffled at his doorstep, he really thought you two deserved a tip. That’s also what was discussed over the phone.

“Bitch what the hell was that!” Kiara shouts.

“I don’t know I really don’t. I just freaked and wanted to get out of there, something wasn’t right.” I had a bad feeling.” You lied.

“Or a good feeling.” Kiara mumbles.

“What?”

“Oh come on y/n it’s no secret you love to self sabotage all the time. I saw they way you were looking at him and frankly he was checking yo big booty ass out too.” She informs.

No way.

It was true though. Chris opened the door and was immediately blown away by your beauty.

he loved how your hair fit your face just right, the way your outfit cordinated with the holiday and season, your big brown eyes, and beautiful dark skin.

He was immediately blown away, and shocked that you ran off like Cinderella.

—-

Driving back home gave you time to think. You hadn’t felt those butterflies in your stomach in years. The feeling was so foreign but so familiar.

You had to move on though, it was a one time thing. You’d never see him again.

——

Back at Chris’s house:

A/n: the girls thought it was a family home it’s really just Chris’s home!

Chris’s Point Of View:

Chris shuts the door completely taken a back by your sudden take off.

“Oooh the desserts are here mom!’Scott shouts “well that’s not a pretty face.” Scott teases .

“Yeah I know the baker she ran off before I could give her a tip, I sort of feel bad. They deserve it.” Chris moaned

He hated not being able to give back. He was blessed with all this luxury he wanted to be able to give back in any way he could.

“Well maybe drop it off tomorrow, let’s celebrate and not sulk.” Scott suggested pushing his older brother in the direction of the kitchen.

“Yeah.” Chris said starting to chipper up again.

—-

The Next Day:

Another early shift.

You never understood why after holidays people were still craving sweets, hadn’t they had enough at their parties and gatherings?

“Jesus this line wont go down.” Kiara complains

“Hey look at it as exposure and a better paycheck.” You said

“I’ll go check on the guys.” Kiara announces

Your main bakers Jay and Deacon were amazing. They were prompt, selfless, and came up with the most delicious unique recipes.

“Hi welcome to y/n’s what can I get you today.” You ask not completely aware of the person in front of you.

“A regular glaze donut should do.”

Your ears burn at how familiar the voice sounded.

Your attention slowly turned from the coffe machine you were working with to the figure standing in front of you.

Chris Evans.

Their he stood. Frame decorated with a warm winter puff coat, a navy knit sweater, denim blue jeans, and his imfamous Boston hat.

“Oh ok, of course.’ Let me grab a fresh on for you.” You stammer.

You were nervous, he made you nervous.

“No the one on display is fine I don’t need special treatment.” Chris had reassured

You nod in a agreement. Grabbing the donut wrapping it in your seasonal decorate parchment paper. You slip it in a brown baggie and hand it over to him.

“That’ll be 0.99 cents.”

Chris’s face hardened, his eyebrows furrowing in.

Digging into his pocket. “You know, you should really charge more. Your name goods are amazing.” Chris compliments.

You feel your face heat up and those damn butterflies erupting again.

It was no secret you tend to fall fast but self sabotage because you’re awkward and can’t fathom the thought of being loved.

“Have a good day, Chris.” You say whispering his name not wanting to pull attention to him.

“You as well y/n.” He whispered mimicking you.

He remembered your name?

You turn around to finish adjusting the coffe machine, but slightly peaking to watch him walk out.

God he was so darn beautiful.

—

“Days over let’s count profit, Kiara can you grab Jay I think he’s still back there cleaning.” You ask politely

Kiara nods in agreement making her way through the flapping doors.

You begin opening the registers, fact checking and counting the profit you and yo it team made for the day. You loved having the bakery but gosh this was time consuming.

You reach for the tip jar, tilting it downward for easy acsses to slip your hands through. You pull out varrace one dollar bills, coins, some five dollar bills, until, you pulled out a wad of three hundred dollar bills.

“What the fuck.’You whisper to yourself. “Guys, guys come out her right now!” You shout excitedly.

“What who’s here?” Jay runs out of the kitchen with a rolling pen ready to attack any threats.

“No ones here, and put that down.”

“Someone left a three hundred dollar tip.” You announced

Your small bakery filled with loud hoots and hollers from your team. Everyone excited by the unexpected win.

“Well girl don’t act like you don’t know who left it.” Kiara said smirking

“What do you mean?” You respond

“Obviously it was Cevans.” She stared eyebrows wiggling.

“Who’s Cevans?” Deacon blurts.

“You remember that home delivery the other day, yeah that was to Chris Mother fucking Evans house.” Kiara explains.

“What?!” Deacon and Jay shout simotaniously.

“When were you gonna tell us this?” Deacon says.

“Never.’ You whisper. “Only because it’s not that big of a deal, I mean look at you guys your obsess all ready. He’s just a guy.” You rationalize

“Yeah just a guy that drops three hundred dollars on a pretty brown skin doll.” Kiara teases.

“Shut up.” You say cheeks heating up.

“Well don’t get to deep because you still owe me a date.” Deacon says walking away.

You and Deacon had a moment not to long ago, I mean you loved him as a friend and could never go past the point of no return with him.

But Deacons feelings for you were explosive and seemingly never ending.

God what was it with you and white men.

——

Chris’s Point Of View:

At home I had spent the remainder of the day with my family.

The thoughts of y/n still lingered. I was no doubt proud that i could give you the tip you deserved.

He could tell you worked hard, and deserved every team.

Were you single?

“What are you day dreaming about?” Scott says interrupting my thoughts.

“Nothing.” I say dry

“Really because we just had y/n’s yesterday and your already back. I thought we’d be donuted out for a while.” Scott implied

Scott was constantly trying to find me someone. He said I would “die alone,” if I don’t find a wife. But the truth is I’m protective of me, my space.

It’s not easy being a noticeable celebrity, people seem to always have alternative motives.

Like what they can gain from me, use me.

“I just liked her donuts, that’s all not that deep Scott.” I lied.

“Mhmm, we should wear face mask tonight and try and find her instagram, see what’s she up to.” Scott suggests non chalantly.

I mean If I did it would only be to spend quality time with scott right?

“I mean I guess, but not that one face mask made my face burn.” I said fingers circuling my face.

—-

Y/n’s Point Of View:

Finally locking up the shop I walk away to my car keys in my hand bag in another.

I couldn’t feel somewhat guilty for the amount of money we’d recieved from Chris. He was too generous.

It almost felt like I was using him even though he willing gave us the money. I still felt bad.

At home you ate your dinner in peace, lofi music playing in the background.

When suddenly your phone went off with a ping, two pings.

Picking up your phone to see what it was.

An instagram notification. “What the fuck.” You curse

Why was Scott Evans liking your pictures.

Now this was no coincidence.

You dial your Bestfriends number to tell her the news.

“Kiara.”

—-

Chris’s Point Of View:

“Scott what the fuck!” I shout. “Now she’s gonna know I was lurking.”

“But you weren’t I am.” Scott says

“Yes but don’t you think she’ll know we are together. This is why I didn’t want to do this.” I continue to shout.

“Just don’t like anymore pictures please.” I plead.

“Fine I won’t, but isn’t she hot.” Scott teases.

“She’s beautiful yes but not my type.” I lie

“You don’t have a type.” Scott rebutted

This wasn’t 100% accurate or inaccurate looks weren’t a formality for me not that you weren’t stunning, but the personality was were it was for me.

From the small moments I observed of you, your quiet and shy but outgoing on fun once you get to know the person and people you are around.

Maybe Scott was right, just maybe.

—-

First part! Lemme know what you think!

Are you liking y/n? She’s shy but she’ll open up soon😏.

Should they get together fast or slow I’m thinking mega slow!

—

Tag list:

@toniilaney

[mysteryartisticwriter]

Body Stealing Black-Eyed Bitch // Jack Kline/Belphegor X Reader

A/N: I was a fan of the show ‘Supernatural’ WAY before I started to write on this account. I’ve always wanted to write for it but I lost interest in it before I could. But lately, since the show is ending, I got back into my love for the show. My favorite character is of course, baby boy Jack. I just love him so much

TAKES PLACE DURING 15x01 (SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW

Requested: Nope

Warnings: Blood, death and some angst

PART 2

Not my gifs!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

-

Seeing the love of your life die right before your eyes, knowing you couldn’t do anything, was one of the most traumatizing things you’ve ever encountered.

Jack Kline, the sweet Nephilim, was being killed by someone you thought was a friend right in front of you. No one could see it coming, Dean was just about to kill Jack until he managed to come to his senses and lower his gun. Chuck apparently didn’t like it.

With a snap of his fingers, Jack’s screams echoed through your ears and a bright light showed where his eyes and mouth would be. He fell to the ground in pain.

“Jack? Jack!” Castiel asked fantically, kneeling down next to him.

“What’s happening?” Dean asked Chuck.

“Stop it. Stop it!” You screamed, starting to run towards him.

Chuck waved his hand and sent you flying back to a nearby gravestone, breaking it in half and causing you to black out for a few moments. Your head pounded as you tried to sit up, your body aching.

You looked up to see Dean and Cas still trying to help a screaming Jack on the ground, not knowing what to do. As Chuck walked away, Sam looked around for anything. He picked up the gun (the one Chuck said could kill anything) and pointed it at the man.

“Hey Chuck!”

The man turned around and Sam fired the gun straight towards him.

However, once he shot the bullet, it just bounced right off of Chuck’s shoulder and into Sam’s. Sam fell to the ground and Chuck looked at his damaged suit with a displeased face.

“Fine! That’s the way you want it?” Chuck said, looking over all of you.

Each of you looked towards him, scared of what was going to happen next.

“Story’s over. Welcome to the End.”

Suddenly, the sky went pure black. The graveyard was quiet as the rest of you laid on the grass in defeat. Chuck disappearing without a trace.

Groaning in pain, you stood up and tried to run over to your friends.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked Sam.

“Yup. Y-Yup, I’m good.” He replied, obviously still in pain from the bullet.

As you helped him up, you looked over to wear Jack laid on the ground from before, Dean and Cas leaning over him with distraught faces.

“I thought Chuck said that the gun was the only thing that could...” Dean stopped his sentence midway.

Cas looked off far into the distance, trying his best not to break down crying.

“He’s a writer. Writers lie.”

Once you managed to get a closer look at Jack’s body, you covered your mouth trying to muffle a sob. Tears ran down your face as you saw the body of your boyfriend, lifeless and his eyes burnt out. A sign showing that he was gone forever.

You dropped to your knees in despair, doing your best to cover your crying. Dean crawled over to you on the ground and held you in his arms. He had always been like a father figure to you, seeing you so broken was terrible for him. You all had lost Jack, one of the kindest and innocent boys to ever exist.

You felt a rumbling sound come from the ground and you looked up, cheeks full of tears. All four of you stood up in confusion, looking around and off not too far in the distance, you could make out the figures of something escaping from the ground.

At first only a few flew out, then dozens of them came out flying in all directions.

“What the hell is happening?” Dean yelled out.

“The souls,” Castiel told you. “They’re all souls from Hell.”

You and Sam glanced at the angel in horror. Somehow, Chuck had managed to let the souls of Hell escape? As if things weren’t already bad enough.

You kind of spoke too soon. Cracks in the graveyard ground formed and an explosion appeared in front of a stone. When the dust disappeared, the rotting corpse of a man replaced it, walking towards you.

The same thing happened with other gravestones as well, souls flying into their old bodies and popping out of the ground.

Dean had found two iron spears for him and his brother, while you and Cas only had your angel blades, yours being a gift from him. The zombies started to walk to you four, enclosing you in circle. You got into your fighting stance, ready to attack.

Dean went first, trying to kill the clostest ones to him and then the rest of you followed. Cas expelled souls from their bodies, Dean and Sam fighting off as many as they could, and you were going all out on stabbing and killing them.

“Sam! Dean! (Y/n)!” You heard Cas call.

While still trying to fight the corpses, you focused your attention on your friend. You saw him out of the corner of his eye take Jack’s body over his shoulder and run off, the rest of you behind him.

You helped Dean and Sam kill off the ones that were in the way, making a clear path for Cas.

“This way!”

Sam had directed you guys toward into a mausoleum for shelter. You all ran inside and shut the doors tight. Taking a moment to catch your breaths, Cas set Jack down on the ground.

You were trapped in the crypt like flies in a venus fly trap. Maybe Chuck was right, maybe this is the end. While the Winchester brothers and the angel tried their best to think of a way out, you sat on the ground and laid on a wall, your boyfriend’s body not far away.

You felt tears build up in your eyes again, close to breaking down once more. You could hardly look at his body, knowing you could never seen his bright smile or hear his soft voice again.

Memories came back from Kevin Tran, your old best friend. Both of them with their eyes burnt out and dead. You failed to save him too, you failed both of them. Now, they were both gone and all you wanted to do was go join them.

A sound in the walls drew your attention. It wasn’t a familiar sound but it didn’t mean it wasn’t good either.

“Guys.” You tried to call out to the three men.

But they continued to talk and argue amongst each other. You rolled your eyes and yelled to them again.

“Guys!” This time, you got their attention almost immediately.

“I hear something. Something inside the walls.” You said, pushing your ear against the wall and followed the sounds to another one.

“Could be just a sewage pipe line.” Dean suggested.

The sounds in the wall started to get louder, like a pounding. You backed away from the wall and Dean walked past you, pulling a thick concrete slab off the wall to reveal a bunch of bricks.

The brick wall was broken open by another corpse, all of you jumping in shock as the zombie snarled at you. You whipped out your angel blade as the brothers held their spears.

“Cas, a little help here.” Dean said.

The said angel picked up the large cement block and dumped it right onto the dead body. It died and you watched as the soul left its body.

“Well so much for the pipes.”

“The hell are we gonna do now?” Dean questioned.

You and the boys looked around the chambre for anything that could be used as a weapon or an escape route.

“Hello.”

Your heart stopped, you knew that voice. You turned around quickly to see Jack- or at least the body of Jack standing across the room.

You looked at him shocked, wondering what was happening. Was Jack alive? No, he couldn’t be. His eyes were burnt out by Chuck, God. But then, who was the one standing across from you?

“Jack.” Sam whispered in disbelief.

You and the others looked over him, he seemed as alive as ever but just without eyes.

“You’re alive.”

“That’s not Jack. It’s a demon.” Cas said, staring down the body of his son.

“What?” You asked, shocked and confused at the same time.

You knew it wasn’t really him, but a part of you wanted to believe it was.

“Yeah...sorry about that.” The demon apologized, shrugging.

“How in the hell...?” Dean started to say.

“Look I just got here and uhh...I needed a body. So...”

“So you’re a demon?” Sam wanted to confirm.

You started to get angry at this demon. There was no way in hell that you were going to let your love’s body be used by some black-eyed bitch.

“Yeah well I-I would do the whole eyes thing but,” He waved his hand over where his eyes would be. “No eyes.”

He clapped his hands together and looked around the room before setting his eyes-err eye sockets onto a pair of white sunglasses in the corner. A pair that belonged to Jack.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked in anger.

The demon picked up the glasses and set them on his face, making him look like a real human. Making him look just like Jack.

He smiled. “Blending.”

“Get out of him.” Castiel sneered.

“Look, I-I know it’s weird. Okay um,” the demon sighed. “Where do I start? Like the first day of school, I guess. Hi! My name is Belphegor and I’m here from-“

You interrupted him by pushing him against one of the tomb’s pillars, your angel blade against his neck.

“Get out of him.”

The demon just laughed in amusement.

“Cute, I’ve heard about you. You’re much hotter in person than what people say.”

In response, you just pushed him further against the pillar. Your eyes full of fury.

“I won’t ask again.” You hissed.

“No, I can help. Okay, I can help!” He pleaded, looking towards the three men still across the room.

“Why the hell would be want your help? You body stealing black-eye bitch-“

“(Y/n), let him speak.” Dean interrupted you, walking to your side.

“No, don’t, he’s an abomination!” Castiel yelled as he came next to you.

“You’re an abomination to wear that stupid, dumb trench coat.”

You just forced him more into the concrete pillar and glared at him.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), listen to me,” Dean pushed you off of the demon in your boyfriend’s body and directed your focus to him. “We need the help.”

“Like hell we do.”

“He is defiling Jack’s corpse!” Cas tried to tell Dean.

“But if-if he can help,” Dean pointed to the demon. “Jack’s gone! Alright? So let’s listen to what the demon has to say. If we don’t what he says, then we stab him.”

“Cas, (Y/n),” You looked to the taller Winchester sibling. “Dean’s right.”

Not really agreeing but backing off anyway, you slowly walked over to the demon.

“You try anything and I will send you back to where you came from.” You threatened him.

He just wolf-whistled back at you as you went over next to Sam. Belphegor then proceeded to walk to the middle of the room.

“Got a lot of fire in that one. Good thing I like fire, then.”

“Shut it.”

“So we are-“ Sam was about to say before being interrupted by Belphegor.

“The Winchesters. Ah, I know. I read the papers.”

“You have newspapers in Hell?” Dean asked.

“Yeah the wifi sucks. Anyway, I’m guessing this whole thing is kinda of uh...you?” Guessed the demon.

“No. It was God.” Cas corrected him.

Belphegor laughed for a moment, thinking he was joking until he noticed that no one else had laughed.

“Oh, you’re serious?”

“It’s a long story.” Sam told him.

“Okay, okay well listen. I’m not some cross road demon, I’m not even one of those black-eyed goons who crawled his way up here and eats virgins, puppies...or virgin puppies.” He joked.

“Look, downstairs I punch a clock. A soul comes in, I torment it- it’s what I do.”

“What’s your point?” You impatiently asked.

“The point is, sweetheart...I like my job! I like Hell the way it is or was. So all those bad guys,” Belphegor pointed to the sounds of the dead souls still pounding on the door. “You want them back where they came from, right? Well, me too! Okay we’re...we’re twinsies, guys!”

“We are not twinsies.” Cas growled at the demon.

Sam gestured up to the sounds of the zombies. “Can you fix this?”

“Umm...no. But I can get you out of here.”

“How?”

“Oh just a little spell. You know, nothing major. I just need some graveyard dirt,” he said as he picked up some soil on the ground. “And some uh, angel blood.”

Cas held up his hand until you grabbed his wrist, protesting against the action.

“No, no he’s not handing over his blood to you!”

“(Y/n)-“ Sam tried to convince you but you ignored him.

“No! What if he’s not actually helping us, hm? He could take Cas’ blood and end up making us...into those zombies outside.”

Dean looked tired, not wanting to deal with you at the moment. “Do you wanna get out of here or not? We could always stay trapped down here until those things eat us alive.”

You bit your lip anxiously, a habit you’ve always had.

“Come on, doll. Don’t you trust me?” The demon inside your boyfriend asked, grinning.

You said nothing and let go of Castiel’s hand, allowing him to cut his palm open with his angel blade and pour his blood over the dirt in Belphegor’s hand.

The man walked into the center of the room, holding out his hands then clapped. The pounding outside the doors silenced right away and the ingredients fell to the ground after the clap.

The guys ran to the doors to check the outside while you stayed back and stared down the demon. He noticed you looking at him and smiled.

“What? No thank you?”

You scoffed. “As if I’ll ever thank you.”

-

A/N: This is only part one! I wanted to make this longer and do the whole episode but this was already pretty long in itself so I’ll just do a second part later

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my Supernatural stories!

[basine]

Red and Purple (Taiyuu OCT Round 2)

@taiyuu-oct Oh boy... was this a fun one to write! CW: Burning, Scars, death of close friend. CW is listed in the story, so please feel free to read until then! After randomly being brought to the training ground by Wolfsboon and Aurora, Mei knew that there was a challenge coming up. She saw Ryujin standing there with her four dragons larger than Mei had ever seen them. In the entrance exam, Mei had fought Lux to obtain a small flag, but Lux was much smaller than they are now. Mei couldn’t help but get excited because this was going to be her first test. Not just a test for the teachers but for the other students as well. It was a one on one fight, with a dragon of one’s choice. Mei saw others go for Seafoam, Lux, and Jade. Jade was probably the most terrifying to Mei. The way that Jade held themselves made Mei always very cautious of them. However, Mei stared down the one dragon that no one seemed to have gone over to yet; Firecracker. Firecracker was known for being a little brash and known for being a little more aggressive. Mei thought that it would be an interesting test of her skill to go against a dragon that seemed to be more on the aggressive side.

Mei pointed to Firecracker and saw a little bit of fire come through their nose. Mei knew this was going to be a tough challenge for her. She had things to prove being new to the academy. She wasn’t the only new student, but she wanted to shine above the rest if she could. There was also the point of trying to prove something to Kirai Nahito, that she wasn’t weak and she could win a battle by herself. She grinned as she went to her starting place across the dirt stained city. While she was waiting for the command to start, Mei did a little bit of stretching, making sure to stay loose. It was one of the things that she learned very quickly here at the hero academy. Stay loose so that after training and or fighting you don’t end up with too sore of a body the next day.

The starting sound was issued and Mei started full sprint towards the dragon. She knew that Firecracker being brash and aggressive would do the same thing. As both of them charged toward each other Mei prepared a yellow card to potentially stun Firecracker so she could get around them. As the two grew closer and closer, Mei felt that presence in her head. Akuma was there with her. She wasn’t alone in this fight even if she was the only student on the battlefield.

As the two were mere yards from each other Mei tossed her yellow card toward Firecracker to blind them for a few seconds. The card struck true and Firecracker reeled back shaking their head. Mei sprinted around the back of Firecracker and grabbed two blue cards. She threw them at Firecrackers feet to try and freeze them in place. Both landed in the spot Mei wanted them to and Mei breathed a sigh of relief.

“Maybe this challenge isn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” Mei thought to herself.

Before the next thought could even cross her mind, Firecracker unleashed a breath of flame and immediately melted the ice holding their feet to the ground. Mei taken aback by this new development didn’t see the tail that was whipping around to hit her. It nailed Mei in the side and threw her a bit away. As Mei fell to the floor she tried to regain her breath. That hit really did a number on her, and it was only the first one.

Mei stood up, morale not shaken, and charged at Firecracker once again. This time she had a purple card in hand and was ready to bounce. As she quickly approached Firecracker she threw down the card and leaped. The trampoline-like surface that formed bounced Mei high into the air. Mei pulled two more cards, both yellow, and threw them at Firecracker and she backflipped over the dragon. Both the cards once again struck true and might last a little longer than the previous time, since there were now two cards. Mei in quick succession threw four ice cards at the dragon's feet hoping that the extra cards may be able to withstand the fire blast that was about to come once again. However the dragon flames were much more potent this time and once again melted the ice.

“I do not think that is going to work again, Mei. It seems that Firecrackers breath is way too hot for our ice to be effective.” Akuma warned.

Mei knowing that Akuma was right decided to sprint away from Firecracker trying to get the dragon to follow her. She didn’t have a plan at this point, but hopefully she would think of one. She ducked around the corner as she heard the dragon start to head in her direction. All she needed to do was subdue the dragon, so that it couldn’t cause any more chaos. Mei started to focus on all her possible options with the cards she had remaining. There wasn’t anything she could do with ice because Firecracker could just melt it away. She could attempt to stun and bounce Firecracker away, but that wouldn’t subdue the dragon. Time was running short as the sound of a dragon's breath got closer and closer.

Mei decided to act on instinct this time and flew out from the corner trying to surprise Firecracker with a gold card. She dug her heels in the dirt to drift around the corner allowing the card to have some extra spin on it, maybe catching Firecracker off guard. Mei chucked the card with all of her might at Firecracker and it spun. It was exactly on the trajectory that Mei thought it would be. It would land right behind Firecrackers head and stun him giving Mei enough time to hide. However, Firecracker saw the card coming and smacked it to the floor with his claw.

“Can’t keep using the same tricks on me! I am so much smarter than you give me credit for. You are going to need to try even harder to beat me.” Firecracker mocked.

Mei felt the rage start to boil her blood. She would not be mocked by a dragon about her capabilities as a hero. Mei without thinking let Akuma take over her body and started sprinting full force at Firecracker. Firecracker raised his paw to swat at Mei but her dexterity and speed allowed her to dodge out of the way. Mei zoomed around the dragon trying to confuse it, and maybe get it a little bit off balance. Jumping, doging, and stealthy making her way around the dragon seemed to work until her mind wandered off for just a second. He mind went to the girl that she actually started to like. Her name she couldn’t remember at that moment, but she knew she was real and Mei was trying to impress her. Unfortunately the opposite happened when Mei got flustered and tripped over her own shoes. Mei fell to the ground like a sack of bricks and looked up to see what Firecrackers next move would be. Mei guessed a claw to the chest but it looked like he hadn't spotted her at this point. As Mei went to stand up, she was blindsided by a swinging tail that burned with heat. Mei felt her skin burn a tiny bit as she was flung through the wall of a nearby building. As she was tumbling from the hit, she heard a large explosion happen just to the side of her.

Mei felt her body giving up on her. She felt weak. Her arms were so sore but also stung with pain from the hot scales that Firecracker had from his two fire blasts earlier. Mei felt her back ache and pop as she tried to move. She collapsed in pain, grunting and letting out a very muffled scream. She went to reach for her cards but only felt three left in her hand. She glanced down realizing that the explosion earlier was her cards being scattered across the battlefield. She had three left, one purple and two red.

Mei sighed. This was it. She wouldn’t pass this challenge. She would fail and make a fool of herself in front of everyone. She already probably got docked points for letting her powers slip out of control when she lost her cards. She could have endangered other people if they were around.

“Can I really be a hero? I… I don’t even know how to hold onto my cards when I get hit. What sort of hero loses control of their powers that easily… I-I can’t protect those who I love, I end up killing them…”.

(CW: Burns and Scars and death of close friend) Tears are running down Mei’s cheek as she remembers her best friend. The one that she killed because she didn’t understand how her powers worked or how potent they could be under the right circumstances. Her mind starts to project quick images of the house that her best friend lived in, burning in flames. Mei remembers trying to run into the house and being pulled back by other heroes as she tried to save her best friend. The pain she felt, knowing that it was all because she picked the wrong card. It was a red instead of a purple card causing the floor to catch on fire. Kimiko…

Mei looked down at her hands. If you looked closely through that dark navy skin, you could see the scars from when Mei reached into the flames to try and save her. Ever since that point, Mei couldn’t feel anything with her hands. The cards, her clothes, the bark of trees, even the dirt beneath her, all felt the same. The tears running down her cheeks she could feel, but when she lost Kimiko, it is almost like she lost a part of herself. The only time Mei had ever felt anything was when she held hands with Zuruko Kayaki, her new best friend. Kayaki! That was who she thought about before when she tripped. When they held that card together, for the first time in 3 years, Mei felt something with her hand. She could feel Kiko’s hand in hers. Just at the mere thought of that, gave Mei hope. She had to keep fighting, she couldn’t lose. She had to prove to Kirai that she could win, even when she drew a bad hand. She has to keep fighting to make sure she can feel again. She needs to keep fighting… for Kimiko.

Mei pushed herself off the wall. Her body screamed in pain but Mei kept fighting it. She had to. She walked out of the building bruised and sore but stood there and looked at Firecracker. Mei summoned all the strength and forced herself to sprint as fast as she could away from Firecracker. Her legs ached and were in enormous pain as she ran. At one point her right leg gave out and she stumbled but never stopped moving.

After putting some distance between her and Firecracker, Mei took out her last three cards. One purple, two red. Mei focused her energy on the purple card as she threw it to the ground creating a small 1x1 cube of purple bouncy material. Then she held both of the red cards in her hand. Instead of throwing them she held onto them. She crumpled them allowing the cards to activate, dousing her hands in fire. She plunged them into the purple cube she had infront of her. The flames tickled her upper arm where she could feel the heat blazing. She had one chance to subdue the dragon and she wasn’t going to waste it.

Working with her teachers, she learned that her bounce card doesn’t use momentum to activate it, instead it uses energy. Mei learned about this in primary school that fire is hot because of the chemical reaction that happens. It creates thermal energy. This energy is what Mei would use to power the cube.  As Firecracker drew closer, Mei picked up the cube, hands still burning and threw it. She tossed it like she did when she played left field in softball. She summoned all the energy she had and the cube soared. It hit Firecracker right in the chest. For a moment, Mei thought she had failed, that her untested theory would cost her.

Then, the cube expended all the energy it had contained within it and transferred it over to Firecracker. The dragon looked perplexed when it happened. Firecracker suddenly was thrown thousands and thousands of feet away outside the arena. The threat was gone. Mei had gotten rid of the dragon.

Mei looked down at her clenched fists still burning with red flame. As she stared, she thought about the house again. The house that burned. The friend that she killed. Mei shrugged it off. It was her fault, but it is in the past. Did she love Kimiko yes, but it’s time to move on. What is done, is done. There are more people to save.

“Imagine all the people I can save when I’m really a hero. I can’t save everyone and that is ok.”

Mei held her head as high as she could. Her thoughts drifted from Kimiko to Kayaki. Mei smiled. What she would give to be with her right now, eating rice and enjoying each other's company.

That was the last thing Mei thought of before she passed out.

[stusbunker]

He Is, Therefore I Am

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean and Sam Winchester

Written for: @impala-dreamer‘s Make Me Feel It Challenge

Beta’d by the amazing: @itmighthavebeenintentional​

Inspired by: Brandi Carlile’s The Story

Warnings: Show level violence and angst.

^*^*^*^

      I am struggling here, which is kind of funny when you think about it. In one way or another, my life has been a perpetual struggle. But that’s all Chuck’s fault, isn’t it? Everything I’ve done to push back the tide has only opened another fissure somewhere else. Because that’s what he wanted, he liked to keep us dancing for him. There might be no way out of this now, but there is one thing I know for certain: it’s not going to end on his terms. Sam and I aren’t going to off each other. That’s not Chuck’s call, that one never was.

               ----

               Dean’s tired. I feel it almost as much as I feel my own exhaustion, like a shell around him. He nods as I explain my plans for the day, but he’s not really hearing me. I can’t keep the chuckle from my voice when I tell him I’ll wake him up if I find anything. He hums a response and I raise my voice and shake him a bit to wake him enough to make it the last ten feet from the door jam to the bed. I don’t even taste the coffee once it’s finished brewing.

               ----

               Sam’s been quiet since Eileen’s not around. Sucks; kid had that genuine lightness to him from the moment she had been brought back. And now, it’s fraying. If anybody deserves somebody, it’s Sammy. I know it’s impossible with what we do, hell I’ve proven it is. But he should get some happily ever after crap, even if it’s just happily for as long as possible. Another thing Chuck needs to be punched over, honestly, just fuck that fucking asshole.

               I’ve been tryin’ to keep him smiling, or at least out of his head when we’re on the road. Laying on the bad notes more than necessary, he doesn’t need to know I’m doing it on purpose. Some songs were made to be belted out, ‘snot my fault. I catch a glimpse of my eyes in the rearview; shit, when’d the wrinkles start sticking?

               But Sammy’s singing along now, and I forget my vanity. Because this is my happily-for-as-long-as-possible.

               ----

               It’s so fucking dark that I close my eyes and listen, silently begging to find them first, to pull myself together, to find a way out. My gun’s in my hand, lightweight and familiar, brick wall biting into my back as I creep around into the next room. Even though I can barely see, I can feel the space expanding out in front of me, gaping with possibility. Somewhere, metal crashes and I stop being cautious.

               “DEAN?!” No one answers.

               I’m nearing some scaffolding, try to step around it without rocking it, but there’s someone else here now. I can feel their eyes in the dark, but I still can’t see them. They don’t seem to even breathe. Maybe they’re not werewolves. And suddenly I feel very exposed. I turn on the spot, anticipating the ambush. It doesn’t come. Everything goes quiet, then a shot rings out somewhere outside. I give up on quiet and bolt for the industrial sized door at the far end of the warehouse.

               Another shot is fired, but I don’t register it because there’s more than two after all.

               ----

               Sam shoulda cleared the building already, it’s practically empty from the remodeling anyhow. The tarps in the windows rustle in the wind high above my head as I keep to the perimeter. I’m banking on it being a bust, but then I hear him scream my name and I’m running. The gravel is loose, so I gotta slow down to keep from biting it. As I round the corner, aiming for the service entrance connecting the two buildings, I spook one of them.

               He’s big but fast, and he gets me with his claws as I land a right hook. My shoulder’s screaming as I land on it. I roll and quickly get a shot off. It only slows him down. I kick away and fire again.

               ----

               I sidestep right before reaching the crumbling pavement, throwing the one on my heels out with their own momentum. The one that had been watching me goes for my knees and, I’m already aiming, but all-too-soon missing him.

               “Sammy!” Dean’s hollering, but he’s somewhere on the other end of the building and I’m falling.

He’s okay.

It’s going to be okay; keep fighting.

               The cement floor gets me hard and I am struggling to get another shot off. But the one I dodged is on me again, and all I can see is the mass of his torso and the floor. I choke on the stench of them. The demon knife bites into my lower back as I twist to reach it. My hand crumbles beneath a heavy boot. I’m screaming in pain and then, almost in slow motion, I see him reach wide, a clawed hand ready to swipe at my throat. My eyes slam shut.

               ----

               Sam musta found the other one because there’s matching shots seconds after I put the big one down. I call for him, but don’t hear anything back. Instantly, I’m booking it to the far end where I am hoping they are. The crunch of gravel is giving me away, but soon I reach a derelict parking lot that gets me to the bend where I can see a stocky wolf stumble back inside a delivery door.

               I hit the gas, gun tight in my sweaty hand.

               When I reach the door, I scream at the heap that is half my brother. The guy flinches enough for me to get three in his chest. But then I’m on my ass, again! Wrestling the third one Sam had insisted existed. I pin an arm behind his back, but he’s getting too close with his fangs now. I roll and try and get him in a leg lock, his free hand nearly gutting me. I hear Sam behind me, so I roll again, presenting his back for a clear shot. Like a fucking meat shield.

               I can’t help but laugh, Sam shot lefty and we still got ‘em.

               “Anymore?” I’m riding the high that only comes from almost biting it.

               “Not that I’ve seen,” Sam groans, shaking out his right hand. My victory is short lived as I internally panic over his injury. ‘What the hell happened’ screams in my head, a voice that I won’t ever completely lose berating me.

               “You alright?” I check, but don’t get all mother hen about it. He’s standing for god’s sake.

               “Think it’s broken,” Sam huffed. Fucking hospitals.

               We make it back to my baby and I try, “you think Jack could---?”

               Sam shakes his head and grimaces, it’s bad. I stop asking questions and high tail it back to town.

               ----

               Newly minted insurance cards from the juice we got from Fortuna ended up saving us a lot of time and energy. I swear I’m the only one who gets their hands taken from them; Dean’s playing at trying not to gloat. But if he wasn’t so smug, I know he’d be internalizing it as his fault, so I shake my head at him and give him the finger behind the nurse’s back as I wait. Finally, I can dole out the information for the pharmacy closest to the bunker to the woman at the desk.

               My hand’s plastered and I dry swallow the first round of painkillers before we make it home. All I want is to pass the fuck out, but I’ve got wolf guts in my hair and I can smell my own dried sweat as I haul myself out of the Impala. This night will never end.

               Dean beat me to the shower, but he doesn’t turn on the water. I give him five minutes until I can barely stand upright and pound with the side of my cast and immediately regret it.

               “Dude! Hurry up already!”

               He pulls the door open, fully clothed with a plastic shopping bag strung through one fist.

               “Took you long enough, come here.” He beckons me in, takes my bum wrist and threads my hand through the bag until he can tie it off. Dean whips a roll of first aid tape out of his back pocket and proceeds to seal off the bag while ensuring that I lose the most amount of arm hair when unraveling it. He slaps the closure and I groan without looking at him.

               I thank him before he leaves me alone, but he just waves it off, heads to his room and gives me the first shower. Tonight could have been so much worse and I try not to overanalyze it as I let the hot water add to my wooziness. I keep afloat until I pass as clean. I fall into bed not five minutes later, safe and sound once again because my brother had my back. How the fuck can Chuck think that is going to change?

               -----

               I gotta drag Sam’s fucking goldy locks out of the drain before I can even start my shower. Gross. But the water pressure does its magic. I almost pass out standing up, I feel so relaxed. Glad I sucked down that second coffee over dinner, it was a bitch driving in. I glance in Sammy’s room as I pass, he’s already snoring. Drugs must be workin’.

               Cas and Jack are on some trail and at this point I don’t know if I want to know. Between Billie and the hearts, it’s just another fucking ordeal. Another flaming hoop. But, at least the kid’s alive, and Cas has eyes on him this go ‘round. My shirt feels tight around the collar, so I pull it off. I bury myself in my sheets, fighting to get comfortable.

               The hunt flashes before my eyes, everything over with in the blink of an eye. Just like yesterday and tomorrow. And every miserable fucking day of my entire life. Except we pulled it off. We keep pulling it off, and with whatever Chuck’s got comin’ I’m lucky because I’ve got Sam in my corner. Because without him, I’d be dead. Without me? He’d probably hit another dog, at the very least.

               It’s quiet, I eye the light creepin’ beneath the door. Exhaustion burrows into my memories, but instead of darkness, it surfaces with only the steady echo of Sam’s heavy breathing in some motel room, every motel room. The familiar rhythm settles something inside me, finally letting me sleep.

^*^*^

Tags: @flamencodiva​ @dolphincliffs​  @dontshootmespence​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​  @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @defenderrosetyler​ @ericaprice2008​ @princessofthefandomrealm​ @awesomesusiebstuff​  @wingedcatninja​

[scullysexual]

Gone

Chapter One: Goodbye.

Chapter Two: Twenty-Four Hours Missing.

Chapter Three: Death.

With his sister’s fate now confirmed, Mulder is determined to get answers so the other two missing kids don’t succumb to the same fate as Samantha. 

It’s his least favourite part of the job. He’s fortunate he doesn’t have to do it regularly but it’s still difficult all the same.

Skinner raps against the door. Stepping back, he begins rehearsing the words in his head. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we found your daughter’s body in the forest tonight.

He removes his glasses, rubbing a hand across his face. No amount of academy training ever prepares a man to deliver this type of news.

He schools his expressions, retaining his straight-faced cop look, as a figure approaches the door.

“Detective Skinner, what can I do for you?” Mr Mulder asks upon opening the door and seeing him.

Skinner swallows. “May I come in please, sir?” he says, controlling his voice. “I have some…unpleasant news I must share with you and your wife.”

 .:.:.:.:.:.

 It felt good to be able to speak to someone who was going through the same thing as you. Mulder would change everything about that night just for Scully to have her brother back if he could but he felt grounded knowing there was at least one other person who truly understood.

They had spent the majority of the evening sat on the deck, just the two of them with no interruptions. They mainly spoke about the year- his time spent in England, hers spent here. He wanted to ask her about Ethan, at what point did they become a thing, but he decided against it, instead choosing to put Ethan in a box and out the way, opting for this moment to just be about him and Scully.

It wasn’t unlike the summer before he went away.

“What time does your dad get here?” he asks now walking towards the direction of her house.

“Tomorrow morning,” Scully answers. “Bill and Missy are coming back in two or three days.”

Mulder nods. He tries not to feel envious that Scully has so many siblings to share her pain with. He has his parents and that’s no better than just having himself.

“Are you happy he’s coming back early?” he continues.

She throws him a look and he looks away, guilty, realising his mistake.

“I mean, just to see him. Despite the circumstances,” he recovers.

Scully sighs. “Despite the circumstances, yeah.”

Mulder nods again. His own father was away when Sam disappeared. Mulder hadn’t been looking forward to him returning.

“Mulder,” Scully says, tapping him on the arm and pointing towards his house.

Mulder follows her finger and sees a dark police car sat outside his house.

“That’s Skinner’s car, isn’t it?”

A deep, unsettling feeling pools in his stomach. Feeling something off, he says goodnight to Scully and runs towards his house.

His mother, father, and Detective Skinner all sit in the living room, all looking sombrely at the ground. They turn to look at him when he appears in the doorway, his eyes searching everyone.

“Fox…” his mother begins but is unable to finish as she starts crying again.

Mulder looks towards Skinner who gives him his own look of I’m sorry and Mulder knows, Mulder knows what it is.

 .:.:.:.:.:.

 He sits on his bed, hunched forward, eyes staring at the floor, his brain repeating the same sentence over and over again.

Samantha is dead. Samantha is dead. Samantha is dead.

Skinner had confirmed it, privately in the hallway just before he had left. Spoken truth to the words. Mulder had wanted to see her, go to the morgue and see her one last time.

He could see in Skinner’s eyes how much he wanted to tell him no but with his own eyes, Mulder had begged and he’d been granted his wish.

Monday, after school, he would go to the morgue.

Unable to sit any longer, he stands. His foot collides with the trashcan beside his desk, knocking it over and spilling out the contents on the carpet. It ignites something within Mulder, a wave of rage overcomes him and before he knows it, he’s opposite his wall, punching the shit out of it. Too concentrated, he doesn’t feel the pain, just continues punching like he’d been taught in those brief boxing lessons his father had made him attend when he was younger to “get his head away from fantasy books of his”.

He punches and punches, tears streaming down his face, letting out his rage at Skinner, at his parents, and most importantly, himself for not being able to protect her in the first place.

He punches and punches until a familiar voice his telling him to stop. And he stops. His knuckles now pulsing, he looks down, seeing them bloodied and bruised, an impressive dent in the wall.

 .:.:.:.:.:.

 SUNDAY

He wakes in pain the next morning.

Slumped on top of his covers, his head barely on the pillow, and harsh sunlight streaming into the room. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep.

His nerves are banging against his skull, his knuckles are throbbing. Another stupid mistake made.

Mulder stretches, his muscles aching (another pain to add to the list) and heads for the medicine cabinet.

Samantha is dead.

Has been for almost half a day now.

All that worrying, all that hoping, all that time spent wondering where she was…

He chucks the pills down his throat, not even bothering with water.

All that is over now. He has his answers. He doesn’t need to look anymore.

But there are still two kids lost out there and if he couldn’t save Samantha, maybe he can save them.

His mind set, Mulder goes back into his bedroom, grabbing any old clothes and throwing them onto his bed.

He has a mission now.

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.

 The night- or as much as he can remember of it- plays in his mind as he peddles. There was the growl, the rustling, and Charlie said something.

There’s something in the well.

He didn’t see anything. Scully didn’t say she saw anything when they spoke about it last night. He’d yet to ask Ethan or Phoebe.

Reaching the well, Mulder hops off his bike, letting it crash onto the ground. He stalks up to the well, touching the roof with his hand. The wood cuts into his skin but he ignores it and peers down.

“What did you see, Charlie?” he mutters to himself.

Mulder continues to stare down into the dark hole, willing whatever Charlie saw to show itself to him.

But nothing. It’s just a well. An old abandoned well.

Defeated, Mulder walks away. He picks up his bike, throwing one last look at the well and the wall not far behind it and rides off.

 .:.:.:.:.:.

 “How are you?”

Mulder could tell him it’s a stupid question, maybe even throw him a look, but he doesn’t have the energy. The well had given him nothing, no indication of how Charlie and Duane Barry could’ve disappeared. What was he expecting?

“Fine,” Mulder answers, looking down at the floor.

“Yeah, your knuckles seem to say that,” Ethan laughs, taking a swig of his beer.

Mulder looks down at his knuckles. They’re still red and raw but they look better than they did covered in blood.

“Just…shock, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Ethan answers. “Want one?” he holds a joint out towards Mulder.

“Duane’s stuff,” Mulder comments.

“Wasn’t about to pass it up,” Ethan says, rolling himself his own joint. “All the hassle it caused.” Ethan pauses for a moment, his fingers stopping their task but he shakes his head and resumes again. “Have you spoken to Dana?”

“Yeah,” says Mulder, nodding, finding no reason to lie. “Last night.”

“How is she?” He pulls a face. “She still won’t answer my calls.”

Mulder shrugs. “She’s holding up I guess,” he answers, not thinking about the way she cried into him last night. “It’s hard for her.”

“Yeah,” Ethan half-scoffs. “I mean, really, I should be smoking this with her, right?”

Mulder looks to the bag of weed as Ethan lights up.

“I don’t know if weed is what she needs right now.”

Ethan takes a drag then falls back against the head of his couch.

“I don’t know what she needs because she won’t answer my calls to tell me what she needs.”

Mulder’s at a loss of what to say. Slightly repulsed that Ethan seems to be making this all about him so he just reiterates what Scully told him.

“She’s not good at relationships,” he says shrugging.

“She’s not good at talking, is what it is.”

“She’ll talk, just give her time,” Mulder says, intending on ending this conversation.

They fall silent, just smoking, until Ethan speaks again.

“She talks to you, though.”

He tries to ignore what he thinks Ethan is implying. He is aware of that summer after all.

So he shrugs, “We have stuff in common, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Ethan simply says.

Mulder ignores the signs, the implications. He wonders for a moment if the weed has made Ethan paranoid. Maybe he should tell him to stop but thinks better of it.

Intent on changing the conversation now, Mulder asks.

“What do you think is behind the stone wall by the well?”

Ethan shrugs. “My dad says it’s an abandoned mine or a storage room.” Ethan sits up then, reaching into the bag beside. “I think I found Barry’s drug dealer.”

Mulder whips his head up. “Seriously?”

Ethan nods and holds out a piece of paper with a number on it.

“I called it earlier, some man answered. I’m meeting him tonight.”

Sometimes the dude could be a massive idiot.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

Ethan shrugs him off with his hand. “Be fine,” he says. “It’s nowhere near the well.” He turns to Mulder then, unsure. “But, just in case, will you come with me?”

Mulder thinks for a moment. He had all intentions of going back to the well, seeing if he could climb the wall, and really see what was behind it. But he couldn’t let Ethan go visit this person on his own.

“Sure, what time?”

“Ten.”

Mulder nods, he’ll be there.

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.

 He isn’t there.

He chucks his bike on the ground and walks past the well towards the wall. It’s made of big pieces of rocks rather than an average brick wall. He did rock-climbing as a kid and now his feet and hands grip onto the crevices in the wall.

Mulder hoists himself up it. Once at the top, he stays low, careful of the barbed wire that lines the top of the wall.

Beyond he sees an abandoned building. Next it to is an entrance to a cave or something of the sort. The lettering has fallen off, only a few remain.

St u h ld Mini g  omp y.

Mulder looks back to the well, a thought in mind.

He climbs back down the rocks, jumping down onto the ground when he nears the bottom. His mind swirling, he situates himself in the middle of the wall, beginning to walk towards the well in as straight a line as possible.

He walks the few steps until the well stands in front of him.

Guys, there’s something in the well.

He peers back down, seeing nothing but a dark bottomless pit. He turns back to the wall he’s just walked from, thinking of what it’s concealing.

Mulder bolts back to his bike, his mind racing with what everything could mean; what Charlie saw, the well being right by that wall, the abandoned mine.

Maybe it’s all piecing together.

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.

 He hammers on the knocker of the Scully’s house. Impatient, needing someone to answer and someone to answer now.

A light is switched on and Mulder sees a person nearing the door. As they get closer, the shadow becomes that of a small female.

Mulder smiles as Scully answers the door.

“Mulder, what are you doing here?” she’s asking immediately.

Out of breath from how fast he’d peddled back, desperate to tell her of his theory.

“I need to tell you something. Can I come in?”

He sees her glance an unsure look towards the living room door before she’s turning back and nodding, opening the door wider and allowing him in.

“Upstairs,” she tells him. “But be quiet, okay.”

He nods, making his way upstairs. When he reaches the top, he waits for Scully to lead the rest of the way. She guides them to a door furthest away from the stairs, a door Mulder can only assume is her bedroom.

Fairy lights run around the edge of her ceiling, casting the room in a cosy off white glow. Records and posters of bands cover her walls. Mulder smiles as he looks around.

Scully sits on an unmade bed littered with duvets and blankets. His smile drops when he realises this is probably where she’s been spending a majority of her time, holed up in her safety blankets like he was in the early days Sam was taken.

She looks at him with concern. “We heard the news,” she says. “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, he’s fine. After his outburst last night he’s come to terms, accepted that this is it now, the mystery is over, his sole focus in finding Duane and Charlie.

“I’m fine,” he says, nodding but her eyes are falling to his knuckles and she gasps at the sight of them.

“Mulder, what did you do to your hands?” she asks, coming towards him and taking his hand, cradling them in both of hers.

Mulder shrugs, “Practiced some boxing on my wall.” She looks at him like he’s an idiot before turning her attention back to his hand, gently running her fingers around the cuts.

“Do they hurt?” she asks.

He shrugs again. “Not as much as they did.” He takes his hand out of her grasp, missing it immediately. “They’re fine, not much you can do for them now anyway.”

Scully nods. “So what did you want to tell me?”

He begins. He tells her about the mine and how it lines up perfectly with the well.

They’re both sitting on her bed when he’s finished.

“So, what? You think Duane and Charlie are in the mine?”

Mulder shakes his head. “Not exactly. But I think the mine might be linked to it. Charlie said he saw something, I didn’t see what it was, I was hoping you did.”

Scully shakes her head, defeated. She looks away. “I don’t remember much about that night.” She looking at him then and he sees the fear on her face. “Mulder, why don’t I remember?”

Mulder shakes his head again, wishing he had an answer for her.

“Sometimes our bodies react strangely to stress. Sometimes something traumatic happens and our minds want to forget it so we can heal and move on.”

She bites the skin on her thumb. “Is that what happened to you when Samantha when missing?”

He nods. “It came back in the form of nightmares but it took me being under hypnosis to fully recount what happened.” He looks at her. It’s been almost two days since Charlie went missing. “You’re not having nightmares, are you?”

“No,” she answers, shaking her head so fast that her curls bounce around her shoulders. “I want to go to the well with you, Mulder,” she says, looking directly at him. “I want you to show me what you found.”

Mulder nods. He’ll do that.

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.

 Ethan waits on the edge of the forest. He looks around, checks his watch, taps his foot.

Maybe he should have realised Mulder would ditch him.

Things had started falling apart since his friend got back. The year he was gone, it was great- in the nicest way Ethan can put it. It gave him a chance to talk to Dana, to take her on dates, and finally ask her out without Mulder being there, without her gaze always moving over to Mulder.

Ethan was well aware of the summer. He was there for the most of it, after all. Sat on the sidelines watching Mulder and Dana grow closer, listen to the way they’d playfully argue with each other about some scientific fact. They talked about things that excluded him, things he had no interest in. He liked stories, gossip, his interests was journalism, and knowing what was happening when it was happening. He didn’t have the patience or the love for Science like Dana did.

But then Mulder went away and it was just him and Dana. It was finally his time.

Now he’s back. Now his girlfriend would rather talk to his best friend than him.

We have stuff in common, I guess.

Bullshit! He angrily kicks a rock aside before grabbing his bike and riding off. I’ll go visit this man with or without Mulder.

 It begins to rain as Ethan reaches the sideroad. Slamming on his brakes he sees a car sat in the middle of the road.

Apprehension sieges him. For the first time since calling the number he feels uneasy about the situation. Kids have gone missing, stranger danger, and all that. He debates turning back but instead grips his handlebars tighter, dead-set on proving to himself (and Mulder) that he can do things on his own.

With an exhale, he rides his bike down the hill and towards the car.

Once at the bottom, he places his bike down, walks to the car, and taps on the tinted window. Immediately the car window rolls down.

An old, well-dressed man sits in the back seat. He smiles. Ethan gulps as the rain picks up weight and speed.

“You must be Ethan,” the man says, his smile not leaving his face.

Ethan nods, trying not to let his nerves show through.

“My name’s Michael.” He taps the seat beside him. “Take a ride with me, would you, Ethan?”

Ethan gulps, wanting nothing more than to bolt but his feet keep him glued to the spot.

“Thought I was just here to pick up the dope,” he says, hoping the quiver he hears in his voice isn’t evident to the man.

“Do you believe in alien abductions, Ethan?”

Ethan shrugs.

“Well, let me help you decide.” Michael removes his hand and the doors unlock.

[vixensheart]

Of Cow Pastures and Hay Bales

.

.

.

If there was one thing Katsuki loved, it was the feel of the blazing sun burning on his bare skin. He was warmed to his core, skin hot and slick with sweat, shirt tossed off onto a hay bale hours earlier. Katsuki jammed his pitchfork into a bale again and pulled some free, tossing it into the half filled trough. He paused to swipe at the sweat dripping at his brow, before shovelling out another bit, and another. His arms and shoulders ached from the effort, but the ache felt good. It meant he was getting shit done, and Katsuki liked getting shit done and done right. 

The cows seemed to appreciate it, too. 

“Hey, stranger!”

Katsuki threw another pitchfork full of hay into the trough and tossed a glance over his shoulder. There, galloping up over the slope was the familiar shape of Riot and his rider, Kirishima Eijirou. 

He snorted. Dumbass. 

Katsuki jammed his pitchfork into the dirt and lumbered to the hay bale with his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. The thunder of hooves came to a halt, and Katsuki watched as Riot tossed his head, black mane flopping about. 

“Whoa, easy, boy,” Kirishima said. He pat the stallion’s thick neck and hopped down, boots kicking up a cloud of dust. Riot flicked his ears but settled, tail whisking back and forth like a manic fly swatter. Which, fair. There were tons of fucking flies everywhere, thanks to all the piles of cow shit. Kirishima patted him again and set to work untying something from the saddlebags. Seconds later, Kirishima turned around again and chucked something at him. “Here, catch.” 

Reflex had Katsuki reaching out and catching a full canteen, which he immediately unscrewed and guzzled. Fuck, that hit the spot. He replaced the cap and tossed it back, swiping at his mouth. Kirishima snorted when he caught it, giving the canteen a shake. “Damn, dude, thirsty much?” 

Katsuki flipped him off. “Fuck off.” That just earned him a laugh, which, in turn, had his traitorous heart flip flopping in his chest. Katsuki elected to ignore the feeling and scowled instead, tossing his shirt back onto the closest hay bale. His gaze found its way back to Kirishima, who was scratching his brick house of a horse behind the ear, having secured the canteen back into its saddlebag. 

Riot was a big ass horse. Standing roughly seventeen hands tall, he was a goddamn tank, muscular and tall- he could probably squish a man’s skull like a grape. His hide shone red in the bright afternoon sun, mud and dirt obscuring the black of his legs and hooves. Despite his intimidating size, Riot was, as Kirishima often claimed, a big softie. And Katsuki knew the damn thing was spoiled like a baby- Kirishima loved that horse. 

When he’d first come to Yueii Ranch, Riot was unrideable, sending every rider to the dirt in seconds. The stablehands claimed he was unbreakable. Untameable. Wild and dangerous, what with his size and power. Kirishima, the fucker, was undeterred, though. Katsuki’d been forced to watch the idiot get thrown a whopping twelve times before Riot gave up, finally. ‘Course, Kirishima was practically unbreakable himself, always popping back up when he should be laid flat and wheezing. They were a good match.

“How’s it going out here?” Kirishima asked, drawing Katsuki from his thoughts. Katsuki shrugged. 

“S’alright. I’ll be done prolly around sundown.” 

He hummed, gaze settling on Katsuki. Kirishima quirked a brow then, tilting his head. “And you’re not wearing a shirt why…?” 

“It’s fucking hot as balls,” Katsuki snapped. “Obviously.” 

Kirishima snorted. “Dude, you’re gonna get all scratched up.” He sauntered over, boots scuffing the dusty pasture. Katsuki tried to maintain a scowl, but it was hard when he had Kirishima’s swinging hips in those tight ass jeans distracting him. Good looking fucker. He had no idea how that shit was comfortable, but Kirishima swore by it. Paired with that loose flannel, buttons undone enough to show off his broad chest, and Katsuki’s mouth was suddenly dry again. Goddammit. Kirishima smirked, eyes glimmering from under the shade of his hat, and Katsuki felt just a little weak at the knees. He stepped close enough to invade Katsuki’s space, and reached up to brush some stray bits of hay off Katsuki’s shoulder. The sudden touch had Katsuki flinching, and Kirishima snickered like the asshole he was. 

“Awful jumpy there, Bakubro.”

Katsuki sucked in a breath and glared despite the lava in his veins. “Fuck off,” he said for the second time, voice strained. Kirishima just grinned. 

There was something, between them, recently. Something Katsuki was afraid to put a name to. Something filled with heated glances and casual, burning touches, of leaning into each other’s space and murmuring soft words into the other’s ears. It was shiny and new, and it was as natural as it wasn’t. Katsuki didn’t know what to make of the way his heart pounded, didn’t know how to process the intense desire to close the distance between them and kiss this idiot senseless. So, with all the willpower he could muster, he backed off and yanked his pitchfork from the ground. “If you’re gonna hang around, you could at least do something useful,” Katsuki said, chucking the tool at Kirishima. He caught it with ease, snickering. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Kirishima twirled the pitchfork in his hands like the fancy, daring idiot he was, and skipped his way over to the remaining bales of hay. Katsuki was probably about halfway done, give or take. And it was what. Past noon, by now? He squinted up at the sun, head tilted. Eh, close enough. His gaze drifted back to Kirishima, who was bent over scooping up another pitchfork full of hay. Katsuki couldn’t help but enjoy the view, gaze lingering on the slope of Kirishima’s fine ass. God, those jeans were a sin. He bit his lip and forced himself to look away, because he had work to do, dammit. 

He could admire Kirishima’s ass some other time. Like, when he didn’t have a mound of hay to feed out to a herd of a two hundred head of cattle. 

Katsuki ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair and huffed a sigh. Fuck, okay. Time to finish this shit so he could go lie in some shade somewhere. He stalked to the wagon picketed just a stone’s toss away, and nabbed the second pitchfork he always kept handy for situations such as this. What? Kirishima was predictable as fuck, and as much as Katsuki loathed to admit it, so was he. They were going to work side by side, melting under the unrelenting sun, surrounded by lazy ass cows that did nothing but stare as they provided a boost of nutrition for them, and Katsuki was going to steal glances at Kirishima because fuck, those arms, and Kirishima was going to pretend he didn’t notice even though Katsuki knew he did- that knowing smirk never escaped Katsuki’s attention. 

“Whew, it is hot out here,” Kirishima said. He jammed his pitchfork into the hoof-beaten earth and ripped off his hat, strands of red hair falling messily into his face. Katsuki scoffed. 

“Yeah, no shit. You just figuring that out?” 

Kirishima chuckled. “Maybe.” His grin turned dangerous, then, and he let his hat fall to the ground. “Now I get why you took your shirt off, dude,” he said, hands reaching up to start undoing his buttons, and oh, shit, this was not good.

“What are you doing,” Katsuki croaked. He watched with wide eyes as Kirishima unbuttoned more and more of his worn flannel. There was a glint in his eyes, that same glint Kirishima got when he was up to no good. Katsuki’s seen this shit before, many times. Often it yielded some less than desirable situations, like when he decided to try and tip a cow with idiot Kaminari. That had resulted in a concussion and some bruised ribs. And of course Katsuki was the one that had to play doctor. 

Which Kirishima seemed to enjoy a little too much. Though Katsuki always maintained that it was just the concussion talking, then. 

“Obviously,” Kirishima said, “I’m taking off my shirt. Ya know. Because it’s hot.” He was closer, suddenly, in Katsuki’s space. When did he get there? Katsuki wasn’t actually sure. What? He was fucking distracted. A shirtless Kirishima was very distracting after all. Fucking adonis, tits out and glistening in the golden sunlight. Katsuki’s gay ass was already easily distracted by this goon he called a partner. The shirt removal left him feeling almost catatonic, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. His gaze somehow managed to find Kirishima’s, and he was lost in a setting sun, heart thudding in his chest. Kirishima chuckled. “Like what you see?” 

Katsuki gulped. He was helpless as Kirishima sauntered even closer, breath fanning his face. Fuck, oh, fuck, his heart felt like it was gonna pound right out of his chest. Kirishima’s hand brushed his jaw, and Katsuki gulped, skin erupting in tingles. Everything was both slowed down and sped up and Katsuki’s gaze flicked to Kirishima’s plush lips and he wondered for what had to be the hundredth time what they tasted like. Would they be sweet, like the candies he was always sucking on? Or would they taste salty, like the sweat beading Kirishima’s brow. His eyelids drooped all on their own, and he found himself leaning forward, and- 

In one swift motion, Kirishima whipped his hat off with a whoop, leaving Katsuki blinking into the bright afternoon, wondering what the fuck just happened. He stared as Kirishima stumbled back, bent over and laughing like a crazy person. “Dude, your face,” he wheezed. Katsuki scrunched his face. 

That actual asshole…

He lurched forward with a snarl. “You fucker!” He gave Kirishima a shove, trying to grab for his hat. Kirishima cackled, twisting to evade his grasp. A growl rumbled in Katsuki’s throat, and he lunged again, which of course resulted in them running amok through the field like a pair of idiots. Kirishima’s laughter was infectious, though, and Katsuki found his indignance melting away and giddy laughter take its place. They ducked around the wagon and weaved between the stacks of hay bales, their game of chase littered with curses and taunts and laughter. 

Katsuki finally caught Kirishima turning a corner, his hand snagging the crook of Kirishima’s elbow. He yanked, pulling Kirishima off his feet. Only, Kirishima managed to nab his wrist and brought Katsuki down with him. They landed, hard. Chest to chest, with Katsuki staring down at Kirishima, his hat forgotten an arm’s length away. And, oh, fuck. He was goddamn beautiful, eyes wide, expression open and awed. That red hair of his was a goddamn mess, spilling into the grass and hay, and there was a solid chance they were laying in shit, but fuck, Katsuki was entranced. Smitten. Enamored. Besotted. All of those shitty ass sappy things people said. And he couldn’t help himself any more, he lurched forward and smashed their lips together in a messy, off-center kiss. 

There was a squeak, and Katsuki felt Kirishima stiffened beneath him, and a bolt of panic shot through him. Oh, shit, what if he read everything wrong? But before he could pull back and ram himself on a pitchfork, Kirishima came to life, arms wrapping around him, pulling Katsuki impossibly closer as he kissed him back with fervor. 

It was far from what most would consider perfect or romantic. They were laying in a muddy, clumpy field, littered with stray bits of hay and cow shit, sweaty as fuck and kissing each other like they were devouring their last meal on this mortal plane. 

And Katsuki wouldn’t have it any other way. 

.

.

.

END

[tisfan]

(I can) Brew this all Day

Title (I Can) Brew this all Day Link https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408346/chapters/58881478 Square Filled C5: Bucky/Wanda Ship/Main Pairing Bucky/Wanda Rating Teen Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings none Summary Wanda works at a coffee shop. Clint does not understand why she’s crushing on a patron. Word Count 1559

for @buckybarnesbingo and @livewire28

“You’re a fright,” Steve complained as she walked in through the employee entrance at Brew This All Day coffee. “Did someone throw a bucket of water at you?”

“It’s raining,” Wanda said, scowling. She knew her hair looked terrible, practically plastered to her head. She’d had an umbrella when she left for work, but it had gotten snatched up by the wind and by the time she chased it down, it didn’t seem to matter. She was already soaked through. 

Usually, she kept a spare dress in her work-locker for just such occasions, but she’d had to wear one last week when a customer did a “prank” and chucked an extra large frozen drink at her (with extra whip) so he could film it for his YouTube channel.

Steve had put him on the not-welcome-back list, but it probably didn’t matter. She was sure that the asshole had gotten fifty million hits or whatever and collected his cash from YouTube and he’d go around the rest of the city doing it to other baristas.

Whatever. She was going to have to work in a cold, wet dress and soaking shoes today and her hair was a mess.

“Your boy’s here,” Clint added. “I mean, I don’t get it. I can’t look at a customer without feeling contempt, so the idea of flirting with them really just-- they’re customers, therefore, idiots.”

“You’re an idiot,” Wanda said, trying suddenly not to throw up with nerves.

Not that it mattered. The cute guy who came to Brew This to study wasn’t going to ask her out any more than the hot guy who came in at odd hours of the night (Brew This All Day was one of the few coffee shops that was decent and open twenty-four hours a day) was going to ask out Steve, no matter how many longing looks Steve directed at that guy’s ass when he left the shop.

Customers might all be idiots, but they often didn’t even see servers unless they made a mistake. And even when that happened, servers weren’t… people. Not really.

Even the guys that flirted with her didn’t see her as a human being; someone to date and enjoy their company. They saw her as a conquest or a cheap, easy lay.

So it didn’t matter that she looked terrible, like a drowned rat, and that her clothes were going to wrinkle and be clammy and nasty all day.

He was just a decoration.

Someone with a perfect face and amazing shoulders and lovely hair.

A work of art.

And as untouchable as the same.

“Oh, my god,” Natasha said, uncoiling herself from behind the desk in the manager’s office. Technically, Nat was the shift lead, but Steve mostly had her doing the books because she was better at it than Steve was. She also set all the schedules, approved vacation time, and worked shifts when other people were sick.

Thus, not someone you wanted to be on the wrong side of.

“You look like you’re gonna puke,” Nat said. “Come here, change shirts with me.” Nat tugged off her scoop-necked black shirt with red accents, completely unphased by the way Clint stared and Steve turned around, the back of his neck going brick red. Nat had no body-shame, along with everything else.

Not that she had any reason to have it. She was quite attractive. 

Wanda took the proffered shirt, but went behind the door to change, giving Nat her damp dress in return. So, now she was in Nat’s too tight, too short top. And leggings.

Well, she might not look better, but at least she wasn’t soaked.

Nat rolled her eyes at Wanda’s shirt and grabbed one of the tees with the shop’s logo on it. Technically, employees got a 50% discount off all shop merch, but even at half off, Wanda couldn’t really afford a new shirt right now.

She wondered if Nat could, or if she was just going to count the peep show as part of her compensation.

“Get on the clock, witchy,” Clint said. “I want to get the hell out of here.”

“Remind me why I pay you again?” Steve mused, scratching his chin.

Wanda didn’t stick around to watch the rest of the argument; she’d heard that particular song-and-dance a dozen times before.

Steve was, actually, a good boss. He paid at least fifteen dollars an hour -- as soon as Seattle had instituted that as minimum wage, he was right there behind it. Also, he let them keep all their tips and didn’t cut himself in on it, even if he worked a shift behind the machines.

As advertised, the hot guy was at his usual table; she could see him almost the whole time she was working, except when she was directly pulling a shot. Probably for the best, since she needed to pay attention to the steamer and not to the daytime television god who drank caramel lattes with extra whip while he studied from a pile of books.

Wanda thought he was planning to be a social worker, or something. She had trouble talking to people outside of actual work interactions, even on the best of days, and when dazzled by the man’s eyes, she barely remembered to ask his name to put it on the cup.

Worst, he never said his name. He sometimes used initials (JB) but mostly he used a series of jokes. Manchurian Candidate, Winter Soldier, Special Snowflake. (She particularly liked that last one, which he used when there was an entire cadre of bro-ristas in the shop, the kind of guys who liked to lean on their privilege and tell Wanda that she had no idea how to make coffee. People talked about Karens in their Target, but she thought those friends of hers could use an afternoon with a coffee-house Chad and see which one was worse. Those guys had looked up to mock the person calling themselves Snowflake, taken one look at JB’s body-builder physique and shut the fuck up. It had been great.)

Fortunately, there wasn’t much of a line; just before lunch when her shift started tended to be dead, aside from the occasional harried looking mom, or the perpetual student.

She checked the house pot, found it relatively fresh. The pastry cabinet was well stocked. She counted out her drawer, signed in. Watched JB from the corner of her eye. He looked up as she came into the room, smiled, and then went back to scowling at his papers and books and computer.

She did a round of the floor, picked up a few stray napkins and straw papers, wiped down the tables. 

“Get you a refill?” she chirped, just like he was any other customer.

“Oh, would you?” JB asked, sounding like she’d offered a drowning man a lifeline.

“Sure, what are you drinking today?”

“Double-double,” JB said. “I’ve got an exam in--” he checked his watch, “three hours.”

“Sounds fun,” Wanda said. “I have a short shift today, I’m off in six hours.”

JB looked up at her, eyes going wide. “Are--”

“I mean, are-- if you-- just saying--”

“Are you asking me out on a post-exam date?” The only thing good about the entire situation is that he seemed just as flustered and embarrassed as she did. And he hadn’t immediately told her he was in a relationship. Or gay.

“I mean-- if you wanted to, then, you know. Yes?” Wanda waved her hands around, wondering if a convenient hole would ever open up in the ground and swallow her. No such luck.

“Yeah, then, sure,” JB said. “I, yeah. I’ll either want to celebrate. This is my last exam before I get my degree, fingers crossed--” Wanda dutifully crossed her fingers for him “-- or I’ll want to drown myself in beer if it goes badly. In either case, company would be nice.”

“Yeah,” Wanda said. “Okay. We’ll do that, then. You can pick me up here, the red line’s just up the road, go anywhere you want.”

“Sure thing,” JB said. He jotted something down on a paper napkin-- when he handed it to her, it was a phone number. “Text me in a bit, then I’ll have your number and you’ll have mine. Just-- just in case.”

Wanda nodded.

She took the napkin, went back and got his double-double, and then got caught up in an entire busload of tourists from Maryland, none of whom had been in a coffee shop that wasn’t Dunkin’ Donuts or Starbucks in their life, and by the time she texted him, he was already gone to his exam.

Just sitting down. Wish me luck.

Wanda debated her list of emojis for a bit, and then sent him a snowflake, a four leaf clover, thumbs up, and several coffee and tea cups. Waited a few minutes, then sent a wine glass, a plate, and an OK.

OK Wine

“Somebody’s happy,” Steve commented, looking at her beaming at her phone.

“I have a date,” Wanda said.

“With Snowflake?”

“Yeah?”

“Good for you. Guess I owe Nat twenty dollars.”

“Why?”

“I bet that I’d ask Tony out before you’d get up the nerve to ask JB.”

“So, uh. You don’t happen to know his actual name, do you?”

Steve just laughed and walked away.

Awkward.