#don’t worry the chains on our ankles don’t let us get too far <3

[lacheri]

You and Astrid both moving on from Levi is not a good omen for 2023 😞

he needed to be humbled

[headinthestaticsky]

The Dusk Comes for me: Jasper Hale x My OC Fleur Swan, Chapter 4

Warnings: Moments of violence, cussing

AUTHORS NOTES: None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

 Sorry if you find anything misspelled or out of place. I proof read these chapters 3 times I still find things wrong with it.

“I'm alone, look at the sky, my dear. I am not every falling star make a wish every time I leave so we can love until infinity.” I'm Waiting Here by Lykke Li and David Lynch

One minute I was I sleeping with Jasper in my room and the next it seemed I was in a unfamiliar location. My movements were not at will, my feet pounded against the steel floor. It was as if I was chasing someone, I soon caught a glimpse of who it was. It looked like a security guard as I was running I noticed a sign on the wall “Grimsham.” Grimsham, that’s in Mason County. What am I doing in Mason County? Two men had ran ahead of me eager to catch the man. The two men looked unfamiliar to me, I was sure I had never seen them before. The security guard had made it outside just about to get out of the area when the man with long blonde hair caught him taking him down to the ground. They then began to feed on him, They were vampires that explained the speed. But why was I moving so fast though? My uncontrolled movements moved toward the man about to start feeding on him. It was then that I noticed that I was not in my body. My “hands” looked far to pale to be my own. Before I could see who the woman was I jumped up, gasping for air. I looked around the room, Jasper was gone. 

For once I was thankful about him not being there. I didn’t need him stressing out about something that I was a dream. I stretched and got up quickly getting ready for school as I slept in a bit too long. I went for a white lace long sleeved shirt and black jeans with the same ankle boots that I've owned for 4 years. I grabbed an apple since I didn’t have much time to eat. Just as I had closed the door I saw Bella slips on a big patch of ice. I held in a laugh wanting to be a little nicer today. I saw dad pull up in her truck and quickly help her up.

“Geez are you okay Bells?” He asked.

“Yeah, ice doesn’t exactly help the uncoordinated.” She replied.

“Well I put new tires on your truck since the old ones were getting pretty bald.” 

“Oh thanks dad.”

“I’ll put the chains on your tires tomorrow okay Petal?” 

“That’s fine dad, thank you.”

“I’m gonna be late for dinner today. I’ll be working overtime.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Well, a security guard  that works at Grimsham Mills down in Mason county got attacked by some animal.” He explained.

“Oh.” Was all I could say. My heart dropped down into my stomach I didn’t know what else to say. This couldn’t have been a coincidence, no way it couldn’t of been. But, I wasn’t a vampire how could I have predicted this. My mind was racing. Dad seemed to have noticed my distant look on my face.

“Are you okay Petal? You’re looking kinda pale there.” He asked

“Oh yeah I’m fine sorry my mind wandered. Be careful down there dad.” I replied.

“Yeah be careful dad.” Bella said.

“I always am. love you guys.”

“Love you too.”

These past few days have been pretty tense. Bella was of course on even more edge than usual as Edward hadn’t been showing up to school. Every time I pulled into the back of the lot and joined the rest of the Cullens I could feel Bella’s eyes burn at the back of my skull. I didn’t dare to look back, thinking I might combust into flames if I even glanced at her for a second. 

Today seemed to be one of those days. Jasper and I began to walk up the stairs toward the school. He suddenly stopped and turned around glaring back at her. Bella faltered and turned around quickly, seemingly intimidated by his harsh glare.

“You didn’t have to do that you know that right? I can handle my bony twin sister.”

“I felt like I had to darlin, her emotions were starting to give me a migraine.” 

“Aww, I’m sorry love.” I said I then pecked his lips.

“Edwards suppose to be back to though right?”

“Yes, he is he’s just running late.”

“Oh okay. Maybe him being back will calm her down.”

“Hopefully, now come on, we have a history test to take.”

“Ugh, why would you remind me about that now I got a migraine.” I said.

He chuckled before dragging me to class. As much as I wanted to focus on my test I just couldn’t. That dream kept filling my head after every questions I read. 

“Who was America named after?”

“Where is the Hudson River located at?”

“Name differences between federalist and anti-federalist.”

I just couldn’t formulate a full answer without drifting back to the dream. The three people ravaged that poor security guard and I was in one of those monsters bodies. Am I connected to them in someway or was this really just a dream? For my sanity and racing heart I just came to the conclusion it was. I just barely finished that history test before the time had run out. I finally lifted my head to see Jasper looking at me, worry etched all over his chiseled face. I couldn’t be helping his migraine at all. I grabbed his hand and led him out of the classroom. English and Calculus went by quickly and I was soon back at lunch. Bella hadn’t been glaring at me from across the room today. Jasper must’ve of scared her a bit. It was nice to get a break from the constant looks of pure hatred. I was working on an essay about the Scarlet Letter for English and Jasper had left to take a quick walk. As soon as he left Rosalie had tapped my shoulder.

“Hey are you okay? You’ve seemed kinda off this morning, Jasper’s starting to notice it too. She asked.

“No, I’m not.”

Alice and Dean’s interest had peaked and listened in on our conversation.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen to you?”

“No, not exactly. I just had a really bad nightmare. It was like I was in on the attack, It wasn’t me me though I was in someone elses body. I helped with the attack I was chasing that poor man with two other men.” 

“That’s strange, no wonder you’ve been out of it all morning.” Rosalie said.

“But it gets even worse, dad told me today he had to go down to Mason county because a security guard got attack by an animal. It was the same place in my dream.”

Rosalie, Emmett, Dean, and Alice looked shocked not exactly knowing what to say.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” Rosalie said.

“Yeah don’t worry about it short-stack.”

“Yeah, you guys are right I need to stop worrying. I just can’t help it. It felt so real to me.”

“We’ll check out the area if that makes you feel better.” Alice suggested.

“I couldn’t ask you guys to do that but, thank you for the offer.”

“It wouldn’t be much trouble.” Dean said.

“No really I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Rosalie asked.

“Yeah it’s okay, can we just keep this between us for now.

“Don’t worry, We won’t tell anyone else.” Rosalie said.

“Thank you.”

Jasper had returned to the table putting his arm around my should and kissing my head. I noticed he had someone else with him, that person being Edward. 

“Been a while Edward, are you feeling better?”

“Yes, I feel a lot better.”

“Good.”

I then took Jasper’s hand feeling more content. It felt nice to tell somebody else about my dream. It was like a weight fell off my shoulders and my heart had returned to it’s normal pace. After Art and Calculus I made my way out of the building ready to head back home. Hopefully Bella would be in a better mood I didn’t want to fight today. I felt my arm being tugged on to turn me around... I of course knew who it was I guess him being back didn’t help he much. 

“Yes, Bella?” I asked in a calm tone.

“Look I know you’re around the Cullens all the time what’s going on with Edward!? She demanded.

“I don’t know.” I lied.

“Don’t lie to me! How stupid do you think I am? Everything was going fine in Biology and then when I asked about his eyes he freaked out again.” 

I held in a comment I didn’t want this to escalate.

“I am not lying Bella I don’t what is going on we never talk much.”

“Oh don’t give me that load of crap! Tell that freak of a boyfriend of yours to stop glaring at.”

“He can look where ever he wants to and he is not a freak. Don’t start something you can’t finished Bella. It won’t end well for you.” I said and started to walk away. 

“Oh no your not, you’re not going to walk away from me again!.”

Before I could say anything else I heard the screeching of a van. It was heading right towards us. I pushed Bella out of harms ways as much as I wanted to rip her head off I wouldn’t let her get crushed by a van. But I didn’t have enough time to move myself. I put my hands up knowing that it would help the impact but, my instincts just told me to do that. I was suddenly knocked down hitting my head on the pavement. I looked up with blurry eyes to see Jasper holding me and stopping the van. My breath was stuttering I didn’t know what to do.

“Are you okay darlin? I feel pain.” He asked he amber eyes filled with worry.

“I’m fine. You need to go though you can get caught. We don’t need anyone getting suspicious about you guys.” I said.

He nodded, kissed my head then left. I was suddenly surrounded by students all of them shouting to call 911.

“Oh my gosh Fleur!”

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m calling 911 now.”

“I’m sorry Fleur I tried to stop!” I heard Tyler say, he had a cut on the side of his head

My head started spinning so I laid down before I closed my eyes though I saw Bella's face for once she didn’t look at me with hatred but, shock and worry.

[jay-and-dean]

Firefly  Chapter 3 : Nine and Twelve years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ?

Summary :  40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her.

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here…

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer… And also Sammy and Jack…

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 4880

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Firefly Chapter 1

Firefly Chapter 2

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

—————————————————————————————

3.

Reader’s pov

She sighed, putting the notebook down on the marble table.

“Once more” the demon ordered, weirdly scratching his chin, or rather the skin of a middle-aged lady that didn’t suit him. “I want you to know this by heart.”

“Why” Y/n frowned. “What is the point of all that ? You’re not even a real teacher ! You make me learn things that have no sense !” 

A wicked expression appeared on the demon’s face, betraying him despite that ridiculous disguise.

“Oh I’m begging you little shit, disobey again. Punishing you is the only good part of this stupid job.”  

“You’re not allowed to hurt me” she smiled with contempt. “Crowley would end you, and Lilith…”

The demon suddenly got up, grabbing her by the hair to throw her where the chains were. Immediately tying her like an animal in a circus. She tried to fight him, already regretting her words.

“I’m allowed to cage you.”

“No no no…” she instantly begged.

Last time he had done that, he left her chained for four days and no one showed up, he was the only one coming every day.

         But today, she was going to know if Sammy told John about the college letter. After several bad days in a row (days when Dean couldn’t talk, wasn’t in his cell or she couldn’t get there), she couldn’t resolve to be locked again.

“Let me out !” she groaned. “Let me out or I SWEAR !”

But the demon kept smiling, seeing the now warded chains redden without breaking.

“Please…” she finally begged, falling on her knees. “Please, I hate those chains.”

“Prime numbers” the demon just stated coldly. “Until two thousand.” 

“Two” she swallowed, looking down. “Three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen…”

          She limped in the corridor, holding on to the bloody walls with tears in her eyes, and Mister Teddy Bear against her.

         After making her start again ten times, the demon had thrown the keys at her with a satisfied smile before he left. But of course, he had given them all but one : the one holding her ankle ; just to laugh, thinking at her false hope.

         And after tugging at it furiously for an hour or more, something had finally broke. Not in the chain... but in her ankle. 

         Dean’s cell wasn’t so far now, she would make it. And she would be brave and heal, just like he did, every single day. She turned left and limped to his cell, a cold sweat dripping down her back, and finally pushed the door with a light smile.

         Her smile faded.

She was too late or too early, or Alastair just lost his temper again. Almost nothing was left of her friend. Blood and guts, pieces of bones....  

For the first time in her life, she looked away, turned around on her purple foot and left a tear fall on her cheek. Hell was an unfair place and, for years, she had just accepted it for was it was, because she knew nothing else… But now her child innocence was slowly dying, and her hate growing.

She sat on the corner of the room, making herself as small as possible, her back on what was left of Dean, holding her teddy bear against her. 

She could wait.

After a while, she could hear the little whimpers that left his mouth, a sign that he was back together.

She turned around to see him : He was panting, his clothes clung to his sweat drenched body. His eyes were still closed, not ready to face her yet, if he even knew she was there. 

She took her injured ankle and heaved it up off the ground to turn completely to him, a hiss leaving her mouth. It wasn't totally healed yet, which made her frown. She was used to injuries only lasting a few minutes, an hour eventually… But this one was bad.

His eyes opened, he probably heard her. 

“H-hey Firefly…” he sounded hoarse. 

She wiped her tear and tried to give him her best smile, but she couldn’t. Hell was weighing down on her more and more every single day, she now saw how wrong it all was. How her friend suffered every single minute down here.

“Hey…” she said a little bitterly, as she waved the arm of Mister Teddy Bear. 

His eyes raked over her, but he didn’t really seem to see her yet. They looked void of anything. He heaved himself up with his arms, his back now resting against the wall. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and opens them again. His pupils adjusted to the darkness that surrounded them. He once again took her in, frowning when he saw her cradling her foot.

“Y-You’re hurt ?” He sat up more, his hair sticked to his sweaty forehead. 

She shrugged, she would heal anyway. It’s nothing compared to what he is going through. For the first time in her short life, she thought of the act of torture, for real, not just like something that existed and filled her world, but like something absurdly cruel… Before she could really come to any conclusion, he spoke again, his voice worried like it was more important for her to be hurt, like for him, it was just the way it was… Was it ?

“Does it hurt ?” he questioned her.

She shook her head no. It did hurt, but she didn’t want to worry him, she just wanted to know more about Earth and try to take his mind off everything.

He let his head rest back against the wall.

“Where were we ?” He still had some trouble breathing, she could see it in the way his chest moved. “Oh yeah. The college letter, right ?”

She nodded, yes ! Was Sam gonna tell their dad or not ?

“Right…” he took a deep shaky breath, and she couldn’t say if it was from his body still being broken, or from that weight on his chest, he always seemed to have when he talked about his father. “So at first Sammy didn’t tell our dad, because well, he knew dad wouldn’t like it. He knew I didn’t like it.”

Of course he didn’t, she thought, he needed Sam. And being alone with his father really didn’t seem fun… For a second, she wondered what would life be with a brother or a sister. But she will never know, her own father made it very clear that her “accidental” life was enough bother. 

“I didn’t want Sammy to leave” he continued. “He’s my baby brother. I gotta look out for him.”

He fell silent suddenly, apparently strangled by emotions, a tear rolled down his face. Her own stomach felt tight, the love Dean felt for his brother always moved her deeply.

She moved a little closer and put her teddy bear in his lap, she knew he felt lonely. It was part of the torture, the loneliness… She felt it too. 

He wrapped his hand around the small, dirty bear with a tender smile, almost amused.

“Thank you.” He looked down at the bear as he continued. “He is the reason I’m here, you know. Sammy died and I… I couldn’t let that happen, so I made a deal. My life for his. I would do it again in a heartbeat. He deserves a happy life.” 

And he didn’t ? 

He was tortured every single day, just because he saved his baby brother ? That sounded… wrong.

She knew a few reasons people would give up their soul. Money, success, fame... She never understood why those reasons exactly, these things didn’t mean anything down here. Those souls, they never lasted long on the rack.

But sacrificing your own soul for Love, those were the good people, the ones that really didn’t deserve to be here. Dean was one of them.

She looked up at his face, his eyes were watching nothing in particular, but she could tell by the thousand emotions passing on his face, that he was lost in his memories.

“Sammy loves fireworks” his thumbs brushed over the blood stained tummy of the bear. She frowned at him.

“Do you know fireworks ?” He finally looked at her.

She crossed her legs, noticing her foot was healed, and shook her head no. It sounded a little dangerous to her.

“It’s a tube filled with chemicals and when you light it on fire, it shoots up in the sky and makes a colorful explosion. Many people use it to celebrate a holiday” he half smiled. “Fireworks can be blue or red, gold, green, any color you want.” He reached over to give her bear back. She took him and placed the broken toy back in her lap.

A smile came upon her face, that sounded like something she would like.

“I hope you can see it one day, well night, you can only see it at night, because light only shines in the dark. This one time I got a whole box of fireworks, i was like 19 maybe. Sammy was 15. We had some rough hunts, one after the other and I could see it was wearing down on Sam, and it was the 4th of July.”

She didn’t dare telling him she had no idea what it meant, she was used to know only a part of what he was talking about. 

“Dad forbid it, but I disobeyed. I wanted to make him smile, he was so happy…” he smile faded. “I wonder how he is now. ”

She wanted to get him fireworks, she wanted to make him smile. No, she had to make him smile, if it was the last thing she did.

“Sorry, I was talking about the letter, I just… I just remembered night sky and...” he swallowed. “At least Sammy can still see night sky, stars. You never saw stars, Firefly, right ?”

She gave him a light smile, that seemed to make him curious. 

“Did you ever see the sky ?”

“I…” she started but didn’t finished her sentence. 

How dangerous was it to speak ? For him ? For her ? For Crowley and all the “people” she knew even if she hated them all. They had made her swear.

She looked around and turned her ankle to make sure it didn’t hurt and wasn’t broken anymore. Then got up on her feet.

It was the very first time since she knew Dean, that she saw him totally healed and, above all, not chained. His body just got whole again so it was free from the iron nightmares.

She took a deep breath, and thought hard for a second : What if Alastair came here and… What is the worst that could happen if she got caught breaking Hell’s number one rule ? They would torture him… They already did that the best they could. They would probably lock her up and never let her out… 

She looked at him for a long time, searching his confused face.

“Are you okay, kid ?” he asked in a frown.

“Come” she finally answered, offering him her tiny hand.

Dean’s Pov  

He stared at her palm, trying to process what she just said. He had never escaped this room, and the few times he got out of it, a demon just took him just next door, for unknown reason. 

“You…” he said but she just kept offering her hand.

Dean was scared. He was terrified even. Years of constant torture and humiliation had made him extremely sensible to threats ; and right now, all he could think of was Alastair’s voice telling him he hadn’t done the worst he could do yet, that some places in here could make him say yes in a heartbeat, but that it was funnier this way.

He hesitated. Alastair would be furious if he found him out… But her eyes were shining, and her hand didn’t shake at all. Something so strong was radiating from her. 

He got up, and just being on his feet felt weird now. No chains, no broken knees… His hand reached hers and she closed her surprisingly soft fingers around it, smiling so wide her pretty teeth showed.

The first three or four steps he took felt extremely weird, like his body remembered how to be active, move… There was something so alive about walking.

After balking a second before the door frame, he finally got out of his cell, led by the little girl in a fancy night blue dress, that seemed to fear nothing.

“Where are you…” he started.

But she turned to him, cutting him with panicked eyes and a finger on her lips. Then she shook her head “no”, making it clear that they had to be silent.

Dean was thorn. His eyes kept roaming everywhere, and yet he didn’t want to see anything. Hell was not just a word now for him, and the screams and begging was slowly triggering some serious panic attack deep inside of him.

His hand started to sweat.

The little girl stopped in her tracks, frowns and turned to him. Her big eyes searched his face, she obviously could feel how bad he was. She tugged at his arm making him bend a little on her, never letting go of his hand.

“You stay silent” she whispered close to his ear. “You never leave my side, I know the way…”

It somehow helped. 

He had no idea who she was, but what was sure was that this tiny lovely ghost knew what she was doing.

They kept walking and he started focusing on her, and only her, forgetting the arms trying to reach them and this horrible smell of sulfur, forgetting the burning hot and the freezing cold…

The way she moved was totally amazing, fast like a rabbit then careful and slow like a hunting cat, stopping to hide behind a column before a demon even showed up, like she knew Hell’s clockwork perfectly. And it calmed Dean a little : watching her move was like watching a dance.

After long minutes avoiding many dangers, they entered a very long corridor with no doors but an incredible cathedral ceiling. Dean didn’t think he would see anything like this in Hell, anything somehow beautiful… But his Firefly was really like a beacon in the eternal night. 

“No demon” he whispered.

“No…” her little voice answered, echoing on every tall walls. “This place is empty and useless, they say.”

“Useless…” he repeated, not really understanding.

At the end of the corridor, a huge door appeared, high like a house, thousands of symbols carved on it, and two huge marble gargoyles guarding it.

“They lost the key” she whispered even lower, guiding him to the door.

“What is on the other side ?” he asked, his breathing short with a mix of fear and hope.

She stopped, and suddenly let go of his hand to plunged her small fingers in the hole where the head of her teddy bear should be. She bit her lip in concentration, searching in the foam.

A little smile appeared on her face, and she started pulling at something. 

A key.

She took it out cautiously, blowing on it a little to take off the foam dust stuck on the weird yet beautiful key. It was way too small for the giant door, and yet, she got on her tiptoes to reach the little lock he hadn’t notice.

The little girl looked behind her a last time before she made one of the huge parts of the carved door move open. 

“Come” she said.

Carefully, he slipped inside the room and his breathing got stuck in his lungs while she slowly closed the door behind her. 

The room had no ceiling. It was made of four black walls that Dean wasn’t even sure were there because of how dark it was. And above them… The sky.

The shadows of trees and and leafs in the night and between them : the stars. Exactly like he remembered it. It must have been a peaceful night of summer, because the temperature was perfect, no burning hot and no painful cold… Just a soft breeze was gently caressing his skin and he could have swore he could distinguish the thousand characteristic smells of nature, of a forest.

A tear rolled down his face, falling in his ear as his chin was up, eyes glued to the sky, the stars and the moon.

It was like the room was both in that forest and out of it, or under it, like his Firefly and him were in the bottom of a well, open on the universe.

He felt her hand wrap around his wrist and turned to her for a second. She was as fascinated as him, her big wet eyes reflecting the moon, and her hand shaking a little.

“What is this place ?” he asked, but she only shrugged, never looking away from the crescent moon. “That’s where you saw the sky, Firefly” he understood.

She nodded.

They stood here, close to each other, her small hands holding his wrist on her right and the key on the left. Tears rolling down his face, and shaking his chest in silent. Not another word was said.

After a moment, she slightly tugged at his arm, and his heart sank. How could he go back to torture now ? How cruel was it ? But he couldn’t let her get in trouble, and maybe… just maybe one day she could take him here again.

He wiped his tears and followed her without a word. The second she closed the door behind them, the harassing heat was back, and the dreadful smell was the only thing surrounding them again.

She closed the door behind her and hid the key back in her teddy bear, making sure it was on the bottom of it. Before she could start to walk back to the horror of his cell, he turned her small body to him, and sink on his knees to hold her. 

“Thank you” he breathed out. “Thank you so much.”

Her skin was cool despite the suffocating heat, like it didn’t affect her at all, and no sweat was on her soft arms or back. 

She hugged him back hesitantly, wrapping her hands around his neck, and he felt her nose shyly closer to his skin, like she needed to know how his skin smelled.

He let go before her, and get up on his feet, murmuring something about going back. She took his index finger and led him like she did on their way here. 

Dean was lost in his thoughts. About life, about Earth, about the sky and the stars, memories of not appreciating it enough, of that time he told Cassie that just watching the sky was boring…

That’s why he didn’t feel her finger let go of him in an instant. 

“Dean winchester !” a horrible demon voice groaned. 

He looked up and started shaking. The beast was wearing it’s real form, twice taller than him, with horns coming out where his eyes should have been, and extremely long claws at the end of his too big fingers.

“How did you get out !” the demon half yelled.

Dean looked around : Nothing. No clue of his Firefly presence, or that she even was there once. 

And while the beast was dragging him by the arm harshly, he wondered if it was possible that his mind was beginning to make things up... 

            Alastair was furious, even angrier than he ever was. Hitting his face again, he kept asking :

“How did you get OUT ?”

But Dean didn’t open his mouth, not once.

When that demon that had found him entered, holding the little girl by the neck, Dean had two really strong contrary feelings at once : The infinite joy of now being sure he didn’t dreamed that, and the devastating pain of seeing her struggling against that giant monster. 

“Boss, we found her hiding. You think she might have helped him ?” the demon said, making the walls tremble.

“Oh yes she might, I’m pretty sure she did…” his torturer answered with a wicked smile. 

Y/n’s pov 

The demon dropped her to the floor of the cell. 

“Oh girlie, you are in so much trouble now.” 

She saw Dean cowered against the wall, already bruised and bleeding. Arms wrapped around his body to protect himself.

He tsked his lips in a way only he could, making her shiver, and hold on to her broken toy.

“Leaving your room AND taking my pet,” an eerie grin showed his yellow teeth, “You’re in for it now.” He motioned with his two fingers to the demon to handle Dean.

She couldn’t let that happen, it was her fault, Dean shouldn’t pay the price for her disobedience. She ran to stand in front of Dean.

“No.” She said, looking up at the monster, challenging him.

 He laughed at her and she clenched her little fists and planted her feet. She knew she couldn’t stop the torture, but right now, she couldn’t let it happen. The smell of his neck still clear in her mind, the sight of his happy tears falling on his face…

“You’re gonna stop me, child ?” he bent, to face her, his long sharp teeth inching towards her face. 

She held her head high, looking him in his black eyes with rage and took a step forward, the demon moving backwards. Her breathing got faster and she felt her anger burn her skin. 

He looked down at his feet apparently surprised that with every step she took, he moved more backwards, his long nails scraping over the floor, leaving deep crescents behind. He reached his arms towards her but he couldn’t reach her, like there was an invisible wall between them. 

Waves and waves of fury pulsated through her, making her feel tall for once, making her feel strong… 

“I-Impossible” he gasped.

Her grin grew wider, her hair started floating around her again. 

But it didn’t last... 

A immense power violently slammed her back into the wall as Alastair stepped forward. She fought back the best she could but he didn’t even break a sweat.

“You’ll need a whole lot more juice to over power me, girlie.” 

He stood straight before her. His power crushing her, her breath cut short. His grin made her feel sick as his eyes travelled over her with contempt. 

Her eyes widened when he grabbed her bear clutched tight in her hand from her.

“NO !” she yelled.

Her arms fought his power, reaching out for him, but with the flick of his wrist she was pinned against the wall once again. She was fighting him with everything she got. Eyes a flare, vibrating from the power inside of her. 

She could see Dean in the corner of her eye, he looked… scared. Was it of her ?

“You disobey, you pay.” Alastair said as he held Mister Teddy Bear, his eyes turning white as he set the bear on fire.

“N-No…” tears rolled down her face. 

Her stuffed friend was the only thing that fought her loneliness, her only true friend, they had been through so much together.

As she started sobbing, seeing the quick fire of Hell turning Mister Teddy Bear to ashes in seconds, she felt her heart sink in her stomach. Her nights would be so much lonelier now with no one to hold. But her days too, everything would be empty. 

The light in her eyes died down as did the flame. Mister Teddy Bear, reduced to a pathetic heap of dust…

“Stop crying, you’re nine years old, that’s too old to have a toy.” 

Alistair patted his hands together to get rid of the black ash. But in his hands was not only ash. Shining on the floor, a little reddened by the flame : The key. His eyes widened.

“Where did you get this?!” His hand grabbed her by the throat, his power pushed down on her, making the wall behind her crack under it’s force. “WHERE ?”

“L-let her go” Dean coughed, his breathing short, but Alastair ignored him, and the other demon stepped on his chest.

She kept her mouth shut. She had snatched it off of Crowley one day when he had pissed her off, hoping it was a key to one of her chains. But it didn’t fit… 

It looked different from a normal key. It was gold, a circle with a hook on top of it and three long teeth that looked it would never fit in any lock. But if Crowley kept it, it had to be important. So she tried every lock of Hell. 

“You STUPID girl, you just earned yourself an eternity of chains and horror” he sneered at her.

“It already is my life” her tears had stopped by now. 

This key seemed like a big deal, Alistair was not one to lose his temper so easily. He put it in his pocket. Turned his head toward the beast crushing Dean’s ribs with his weight.

“Take Dean to my room, it will be one Hell of a session” he winked towards the bloody man struggling to breathe, toying with his prey, as the demon dragged him out.

Y/n didn’t wave this time, her eyes fixed on the pile of ash on the floor.

“And you” he fisted her hair, making her look up at him. “Let’s give you a taste of real Hell.”

 ___________________________

               She walked carefully in the corridor, holding her long, puffed-out muslin dress up to keep it away from the blood and dirt. 

The cold air was biting her wide cleavage, upper back and neck because her hair was held in that tight bun. She could feel the freezing gold at her wrists and neck, and hanging from her hair. Her shoes were tight and high, she hated them.

Her steps resonated against the stone walls, but she knew no demon would be around.

She needed to see him, just once, since they had played with her like a doll since this morning, and she didn’t have a second for herself.

When she pushed the door, he was held by chains again, but whole, curled up in the corner, his clothes seemed to have been mostly burned, and a heavy smell of smoke was making the air barely breathable. 

“Dean” she said.

He looked up and his face lit up, his widened eyes reflecting her fancy appearance. 

“You look like a princess” he groaned with a voice still croaky.

“You won’t see Alastair tonight” she assured him.

“Is there a party ?” he scoffed, visibly bitter like he somedays were. “Have fun.”

“No one will visit tonight Dean” she repeated again, not knowing what she could add to that.

Then she turned around in a light sigh. He had every reason in the world to be that bitter, there was nothing more to say. But the second she was going to pass the door, he spoke again :

“Don’t let them hurt you, Firefly. You fight back if they touch you…” he cleared his throat. “You look amazing.”

  She entered the ballroom with that indifferent pout on her face she kept there all the time lately. Her sad feature hidden behind that disillusioned mask she wore every single day.

The room looked like the throne room of a rich castle, and all the demons were hiding their vileness in human bodies, dressed fancy, with smiles on their faces. But they didn’t fooled her. 

They stepped aside to let her enter, turning toward her in whispers. She walked in, her back straight, her hate making her back shiver under the noble lace.

“There she is” a voice came from the crowd.

And the first demon of all, in the body of a tall blond lady appeared, she was the only one wearing a dress more sophisticated than her own. 

“Lilith” Y/n curtsied slightly, clenching her jaw.  

The demon took her face brutally in her hand to look at it with contempt and nodded slightly.

“Maybe you’re right, Crowley” she admitted, letting go of her face and turning her back on her. “Maybe your accidental offspring could be a bride or a toy for our Lord when he rises.” she turned to Y/n again to look one last time from head to toe, and muttered low. “But I’m glad I won’t be here to see that.”  

When Y/n turned to walk far from that evil shrew, she came face to face with Alastair, and goosebumped appeared on her skin.

“Happy twelfth birthday, Girly” he smiled and she swallowed the angry lump in the throat.

“Y/n !” Crowley called, probably trying to get her away from his own enemies like he always did, not to protect her, but to avoid the humiliation of seeing the Ace in his hand being despised by anyone stronger than him.

She turned to him, but felt Alastair’s hand grasp her wrist harshly. He bent next to her ear and she could smell his fetid breath.

“I hope you die.”

Next Chapter on @roonyxx​‘s blog

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[pixelatedrose]

read this and respond (if you’d like) when you aren’t in the car anymore, i don’t want you to get sick :0 !

you don’t apologize for not be able to write a lot! you didn’t have to answer my ask in the first place but it means a lot to me that you did :) also! i wanna say two things! one, i think i’ve said this before but i really like how you explain things. i’ve tried to learn how to play d&d and i think i’ve got a solid understanding of it, but it’s still hard when people say things like “10 AC”. but i don’t have to worry about that when you explain things cause you sorta dumb it down in a way that doesn’t make me feel dumb.. if that makes sense. two, i love how you showed callahan being healed in your drawing cause it just adds so much more weight to the picture. and i can’t even imagine how that fight was, dancing with death the whole time, that must’ve been so stressful. anyway! that’s about all, but you still have a lot of explaining to do (if you want and when you’re ready) mister >:0 i hope you had a lovely day and you enjoy the rest of your night, love you ro :)) !

1st: dw bout me answerin asks in the car lol I have no fuckin self control sksjshs

2nd: thank you sm m8!!! I know you've mentioned in the past that you don't play d&d or know a ton about it so I try and give little explanations where I can and it's great to hear that I do it in a non-patronizing way

3rd: heheheee okay so imma go into some more detail on the Callahan & Shade training session-

Okay, so.

To understand how we got to this point in time, we have to understand where he was

The party entered the Shadowfell- a mirror plane of existence where everything is contorted and dark and just about everything wants to kill you. This is where we were trying to get to when Callahan first joined the party.

Now Callahan didn't have a full grasp on what the Shadowfell was, really, when he went through the portal. The only one who did was Sylas, and by all the gods did he try to warn us.

Callahan was still so very very unprepared...

The very first fight in the Fell- one of the first battles Callahan has EVER been in in his life- he gets one-shotted by this monster and drops below zero hp.

When you drop below zero hp in d&d, you're Ina state of in between life and death, right on the cusp of either one and a breath's wrong move could send you toppling over the edge. You stay in this state of dying until one of three things happen. 1) you get healed. 2) you succeed three death saves and you stabilize. Or 3) you fail three death saves and you die.

Callahan had succeeded two saves, but he had also failed two. One last roll would have determined his entire fate, and I'm not known for having the best of luck when it comes to dice.

Sylas, our lovely amazing wonderful cleric boy, barely made it in time and slapped Callahan with a healing spell right after the monster died and he regained consciousness.

This...messed him up.

Callahan was absolutely shaken to his core at this very close encounter with death and he did not handle it well.

He got furiously angry, ignoring the fact that it was him that brought him to the Fell, and instead shifting the rage to the rest of the party and blaming them for his being there and, by proxy, his almost dying.

He...said some things...that shouldn't have been said. At least not like that...

And the worst part? It didn't get better. He was fitful and angry and upset at everyone for weeks.

Finally, Haru was done with Callahan's baby-bitchfit and when Callahan snapped at Monty (again), Haru got up and dragged Callahan out into the forest a little ways away from the rest of the party.

And what did he do?

Well he punched him.

Well, more than that. He told Callahan to fight back too. Soon fist-fighting turned into hitting each other with sticks, which turned into Haru having to tackle Callahan to the ground, leaving Cal the perfect opportunity to steal the dagger off his belt and ramming the pommel into his ribs.

Cal would like to say he won that fight. Haru would have something else to say.

After laying there on the ground for a moment, Callahan started to laugh. A sound that Haru had not heard in weeks, and one he didn't know he missed.

Haru explained that he wanted to teach Cal to fight so that what happened with that first monster? Where Cal nearly died?? So that that would never have to happen again.

Something about it- maybe it was something about Haru- calmed Callahan down.

And then it really hit him.

Oh fuck.

I've been a jackass for weeks to literally everyone.

It also started to hit him just how weak he really was in a fight if it ever came down to melee.

So they came back to the party together, Callahan happier than ever with little scrapes and lookin very roughed up (I won't say but the rest of the party did not in fact think they were sparring-)

Callahan apologized to Monty the next morning. The things he said specifically to him were...well...let's just say it hit harder for Monty than the others.

Monty wasn't as quick to forgive and forget. Callahan doesn't blame him.

However, that night Callahan and this new party member- Shade- were on a watch together. Now Shade is a much higher level than everyone else in the party, and is far far more powerful. He's a Hexblade Warlock, but he's also a fallen paladin (or cleric I can't remember) as WELL as a fallen Aasimar (kinda like a fallen angel but watered down). But...also probably a Shadow sorcerer?? Listen Shade is an amalgam of magic and power and idk where all of it comes from-

In any case, Shade is big powerful lad.

Now Cal and Shade are on a watch together, and Shade begins talking about Callahan's magic. He picks up a small opal stone from gauntlets he wears and focuses his magic into it. The opal glows with a black light and swirls with shadows of purple and black. He then hands the opal to Callahan and instructs him to focus his magic like he did.

When he does, the opal changes again, but this time, it swirls with bright, ever-changing array of fantastical colors. A rainbow of things that have never quite been seen before. It's extraordinary.

Shade explains that his own magic is that of the Shadowfell, it's dark and thus his magic is sewn from the shade. And then he explains that he's met other mages- ones with powers of the storm, magic of dragons- but he has never seen someone with magic like Callahan's.

Why?

Well, cause Callahan has pure, unfettered, untained, raw magic inside him.

It's an inferno of unbridled magic and it is completely and utterly entirely untamed. It cannot be controlled and it is as wild as the wind and earth itself. And sometimes, that uncontrollablity lashes out and surges forth, and sometimes things that Callahan doesn't exactly want to happen, happen.

And Callahan listens. And his heart sinks. Uncontrollable? Pure?? Absolute chaotic force of magic??? He can't stand the thought of not having a handle on his magic, because if he can't control it, how the hell is he supposed to use it to protect people??

He expresses this to Shade and the "older" man tells him that he can and should use this to his advantage.

At that moment, Callahan's magic goes wild and he surges. The wooden log they are sitting on, under Callahan's hand it starts to faintly smoke. Callahan doesn't notice, but Shade does. He cuts a small piece of rope and asks Cal to hold it for him. The rope errupts into flames and Callahan drops it in vibrant shock and distress.

Shade calms him down and explains that he can use that. He gets Callahan thinking. Asks how he can use this to help in in battle- he can set things aflame with a touch, for God's sake, what can he do to use that?

And Shade looks at Callahan's small scratches and bruises and scuffs on his clothes and turns and says "I know that look...you've been sparring, haven't you?"

Callahan nods his head. He says that Haru said he'd teach him how to fight, that he wants to- needs to- be stronger.

Shade asks if Callahan would like Shade to help him as well, help him learn how to use his magic to fight.

Callahan says yes.

They start small, Shade borrows Haru's sword in his sleep and gives it to Cal to use. Shade goes through the motions of explaining how he uses his magic to help him wear armor and wield weapons- how he manipulates the pull of power inside him into his blade, into his armor, how he makes them seem lighter and easier to use and wear.

And Callahan follows suit. He goes through the motions of swordplay, focusing and directing his magic into it. And slowly, it seems the blade gets lighter and light in his palm.

After a little while of this, Shade says that he would like to try something to really help Cal in the middle of a real battle. And he summons a demon.

Now, as Shade summons this demon, he explains that he has control over it. That the demon cannot do anything that Shade does not want it to do. The demon is not pleased with this.

In fact, with shadowy chains around its neck and wrists and ankles, it seethes and hisses and spits that it will tear and murder and shred Callahan and Shade to scraps. Shade reassures Callahan that he won't let it kill him. But he asks one last time if Callahan wants to do this.

And with a glance at this horrible creature with blood and murder in its eyes, Callahan's grasp tightens around his borrowed blade and he nods yes.

And so the fight begins.

Callahan uses his magic and filters it into the blade in his hands and tries to strike the beast. He hits it a few times, but the monster keeps hitting Callahan back, and he drops down to 1 hp.

As the demon cackles and pulls back for one final attack, Shade pulls down on the shadowy chains and restrains it. It howls in fury at this.

Shade asks Callahan if he wants to stop, that if he really wants, Shade knows a way to help Callahan keep going.

Callahan, bloody, sliced up, fighting for consciousness and blinking red drops from his eyes, hands on his sword in a white-knuckled grip, the blade digging into the ground as the only thing keeping him upright, looks Shade deep and deadly in the eyes, his goggles hung slightly cracked around his neck. His eyes have a burning flicker to them and with no hesitation to his words, he speaks. "I need to be better."

Shade takes a moment and the faintest ghost of a smile flitters onto his face and he says "That was the right answer." And he begins to heal Callahan with Greater Restoration.

Now, I could be wrong either with what the spell does or what spell he actually cast, but what happened with this spell was this: he could restore an incredible amount of hp to Callahan, but he would TAKE half the hp he restored as damage to himself. So if he healed Cal for 10 points, Shade would take 5.

This first time he ended up healing Callahan all the way back up to full.

And back to the fight they went.

This happened four more times, where Cal dropped below 10 hp and Shade had to stop to heal him for a moment.

Finally, Shade asked Callahan one last thing.

"I can do one more thing to help you learn the movement of battle, but it would mean releasing him. You don't have to do it, but-"

"You're wrong. I do have to- what would that make me if I backed down at the first sight of risk?"

"...you've made a good choice."

With that, Shade released the Demon, who was battered and torn and nearly as destroyed as Callahan himself, if not far far more. And he let out a ravenous cackle, full of craze and bloodlust and victory. And he looked Callahan directly in the eyes and told him "This is where you die!!!"

Four more rounds.

Callahan had messed up his magic once before in the fight and his magic had surged, giving him the ability to teleport short distances for the next minute.

And his magic messed up once again, poisoning a random creature near him. Luckily, it wasn't Shade, but the Demon was immune to poison anyway.

But as Callahan took hits, he dropped below 10 hp again, but there was no more looking to Shade for help anymore.

He took one last swing, a move of the blade that felt more dance-like than any sort of movement to kill, and he cut the demon clean a sunder- a trail of the blade that ran from one shoulder across to the bottom of its boney hip- and the demon let out a croaking, creaking, collapsing gasp of air that could have been mistaken for a strangled last cackle of defiance.

And then it fell over, a position of defeat that Callahan may have been had he not made the surer move.

And Callahan stood above it all.

Alive.

Alive and by his hands alone was his enemy gone.

Alive and by a blade he used with magic in his veins was he that way.

Alive and the victor over a demon.

Shade healed Callahan one last time, nearly collapsing himself from the loss of life energy. He managed to gain some of it back by summoning small imps that he then proceeded to suck the life out of, but it still took a bit of a toll on both of them.

They went back to the party where everyone lay sleeping, none knowing the exchange that had happened that night.

The spoke for a while longer, Shade telling Callahan of his past while casting the mending spell on his destroyed and torn clothes.

Their shift ended and they woke up the next pair for watch and went to bed.

And now did Callahan forget to tell anyone else about what had happened?

Yes absolutely.

Did Haru end up finding out because 1) Callahan had a fresh magical scar on his cheek and 2) Callahan forgot to give Haru back his sword?

Yes absolutely.

Was Haru pissed off that Callahan basically almost died multiple times and go into full protective boyfriend mode after he found out?

Yes absolutely.

Anyway long story time but I hope you liked it ;D

[lilyharvord]

The Chain (Part 8)

Hello! I’ve returned with a new part!! Sorry this took so long to get out, but I had a hard time with the muse for this story. There are some key things that happen in this chapter that I had to get right for later in the story though. I think I got them all, so ENJOY! 

Find the rest of the parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

tag list: @delilahlbard, @king-maven-calore, @thatoddgirl777, @elliekratzzz, @evangelineartemiasamos, @evangeline-of-montfort, @scxrletguardsdawn, @freaky-freiday, @petergrantkavinsky, @kuwei, @whatsup-gorls, @katiemoore (here ya go ((: thank you for your interest),  @redqueenetwork(let me know if you want a tag and I’ll add you to the list ((: )

(/Cal/)

I wonder if I will ever stop getting that horrible déjà vu, stomach sinking feeling every time something happens, or if I will just get used to reliving these years. Every moment feels like a knife digging into a wound that spills more blood every time though. At least I’m the one bleeding this time. There are far worse people who will bleed later. 

Even a day spent away from this place feels like an eternity. Every second I waited for something to go wrong, for there to be an obvious deviation from what I can remember. Everything flows perfectly though, leaving me with the uneasy feeling that all of this was just too easy. If there is anything I’ve learned my first time living this, it’s never this easy.

Pacing the dimly lit hallways to my rooms, I feel like I’m looking over my shoulder and around every corner, expecting Elara to be stalking me. Expecting the fluttering of her skirts and the sound of her voice, honey sweet and icy as she says my name. I never did forget the sound of it. 

The safety my room offers is fake though. The cameras are there; I know they are. Or at least, I think they are. I need to bring Mare in here to see if she can sense them. I had turned everything over looking for them, but hadn’t found anything. They could be very carefully hidden though. Closing the door and leaning against it, I take the crown off my head. I forgot how heavy it was, how much it weighed me down. It had been a comfort once upon a time, but I’ve been a man without a crown too long. I don’t need it as armor anymore. It is a weight around my ankles pulling me deeper. I’m terrified of drowning because of it. The only person who could pull me out can’t though. 

The note is waiting for me on my bed, tucked into the folded edge of the sheets.  A Scarlet Guard tactic I had been witness to multiple times. Sometimes, when we stayed in the States, Mare and I would come back from dinner or lunch and there would be a note waiting for her. Tucked into the folds of the sheets. 

This one is not from anyone in the Scarlet Guard. It’s written in Mare’s scratchy handwriting. I tuck it into my jacket pocket and disappear into the closet to read it.

My rooms. 12:30 tonight, don’t be late, we’ll have ten minutes. Take the tunnels. 

My brow raises as I read, before I burn the note to a crisp in my palm. I hadn’t been able to see her for days while I had been at an assembly with my father. I’d kept my ear to the ground about her though. I had half a mind to visit Julian and ask about her. That might give something away though. I can’t risk that. 

What news does she have? It can’t be about Maven. There’s been no word from Maven or Elara, and although I had been careful to avoid prodding too much, I never got anything out of my brother. He was still the carefully masked boy I remembered. Even when we were alone in my rooms he never dropped his mask like he had the day Mare arrived in the palace. I wonder if that slip is the only one I will ever see. He is studying me as much as I am studying him though. Every time I speak with him, I worry that I’ll make a mistake that he will pounce on without me knowing. I talk less and less around him, and I know he notices. I fear our conversations, no matter what form they come in. 

Opening an empty box, I dump the ashes of Mare’s note inside before turning and stripping my jacket off. My door creeks open, and I turn toward the sound. Near silent steps make my heart pound. The light is on in the closet, whoever just entered will have an easy time finding me. 

Edging toward the doorway, I glance out, only to see Maven’s form fold into his usual chair by the window. It’s as if I’ve summoned him from the folds of the shadows. 

It’s late and I have to meet Mare in two hours. We can’t play a game that fast, not if he wants to chat like he always does. I edge out of the closet and his eyes catch sight of my refection in the widow. He drapes an arm over the chair as he turns to look at me and gives me a smile. “I heard you almost gave father heart palpitations this morning when you questioned one of our generals.” 

I purse my lips. News travels faster than I remember here. Shrugging, I cross the room to sink into my chair as well. “There’s nothing wrong with asking in-depth questions.” 

“Since when are you asking questions about missing regiments though?” He tilts his head to the side as he speaks. The warm light dances on his cheek bones. A boy playing in the light, when he prefers the shadows. 

Glancing out the window at the moonless night, I shrug, hiding my discomfort at the thought. “Our people are restless. I noticed a discrepancy. We can’t make mistakes right now.” 

“So a group of Red soldiers goes missing and all the sudden you are digging in the mud for answers about missing taxes, and security protocols in the villages?” Maven huffs at that and slowly begins setting up his side of the table.

I glance down at my own pieces, marveling at the irony of this moment. There are two games of chess starting, one with words and intentions, and another with pieces. “Again, there is nothing wrong with looking into the wellbeing of our people.” 

His eyes dart up to me. “Is this about Mare?”

My stomach curls at how quickly he cuts to the bone of my decisions. He’d always danced around questions like that, never outright asking. Had my digging been too intensive? It’s not like I was stepping on his toes or anything yet. But maybe I was. He was supposed to be the one Mare trusted to change things, not me. I was the one who never understood her ideals.

I had asked about the regiment because I wanted to know how they were finding the new bloods though. I wanted to know how I could find them first and shuttle them to safety. Mare and I hadn’t saved many lives in our time with the Guard. I want to at least try and remedy that. 

“She got me thinking.” I finally admit, as I sit back in my chair to watch his expression. He glances down at my pieces that I haven’t moved yet before picking up his queen piece and turning it over in his fingers. 

You could have been my Red Queen. That’s what he had told her in cells below the Bowl of Bones. Is he already thinking about that? About what she could be to him someday?

“She has a lot of people thinking.” His words a low, a warning and a statement. “The Iral’s have been snooping around.” 

“I’m sure your mother handled that with the grace she handles everything.” I swallow the bitter tone that I want to speak with. I’m supposed to be indifferent to Elara at this point. But every time I see her, my blood boils. She destroyed Mare, and she destroyed my brother before he had the chance to be who he was meant to be. She took him from me and twisted him so much that I had no chance of saving him. 

His shrugs, and gives me a boyish smile he perfected in the mirror years ago. “Mare won’t have to worry as much, as long as she doesn’t slip up.” 

“Is she doing well?” I ask as I finally move my pieces, determined to end our little verbal dance. The tension in his shoulders eases as I do that. Putting his piece back he leans forward and says with a smile that cuts me like a knife because of how gentle it is.

“I think she is.”

(////////)

I knock on the secret door in Mare’s rooms exactly two hours later. I have no idea where it opens too, but I assume it’s the closet because that’s where mine is. It opens a crack almost immediately and I slip inside. She must have been waiting by the door. Her room is completely dark and I reach out blindly with a hand to find her before her hand latches onto my wrist.

She chuckles when I jump and teases with a whisper, “You’re getting sloppy if you didn’t immediately grab me from behind the door.” 

I light a small fire in my other hand, and bring her features into focus in the dark. We’re surrounded by clothes that I make sure to avoid with the flame. This is her closet then. That’s good to know. 

Her hair is unbound, falling to her shoulders in waves that she pushes over her shoulders. Giving me a little smile before dropping my wrist, she says, “light a candle, and we’ll make this quick.” 

She slips away into the shadows of her room before disappearing into the bathroom, her robe cutting across the ground. I follow her out of the closet, keeping my steps quiet like hers. A candle waits on the vanity next to it. In the time it takes for the wick to catch with my fire, I hear her turn every faucet on in the bathroom. 

I follow her in there with the candle. When I glance at the running water in the tub and then the sink, she shrugs. “Precaution. I don’t think there are any listening devices but I don’t want to risk it.” 

“How did you get the cameras off?” I ask quickly, wondering if I might be able to give us time in my rooms too. 

“My secret.” She replies as she steps closer to me so that we’re almost chest to chest. I set the candle down on the edge of the tub in response. When I glower at her, she rolls her eyes. “I wriggled it out of Julian that the guards change stations at 12:30 and the camera room is empty for exactly ten minutes.” 

“That is very, very bad security flaw.” I murmur down to her, as I bow my head to trail my lips along her hairline, inhaling the smell of her shampoo. It’s sweeter than anything she would use normally. She usually smells like oak with a hint of ozone. Now she smells like honey and lilac, it doesn’t really suit her. Her fingers rest on my chest and she whispers, “No time for that. We need to talk about Julian.” 

My blood goes cold at the mention of my uncle. And she pulls away a half step to look up and meet my eye. Her breath is warm on my face as she stands on her toes to speak quickly. “I think we should tell him. He’ll understand, and he’ll be able to help.” 

I almost sag in relief. I thought she was going to tell me that he had figured something out. “That’s one more person that knows what’s going on though, and one more person we have to keep in the loop.” 

As wonderful as it would be to have my uncle involved, he’ll want to get Sara involved too, and soon there would be four of us all trying to hide the same thoughts from Elara. At least if it’s just me and Mare, we can be far enough apart and vary our thoughts enough to keep our secret. 

“I can keep him in the loop during our Lessons. I really think we need him, Cal.” She argues, her fingers closing around mine as she squeezes. I shake my head and gesture between us. 

“And what happens if you tell him and he tells us to run? Or what if he messes something up by trying to do something himself?” 

She turns her eyes away and chews on her lip for a moment, contemplating. We have maybe five minutes left before I have to disappear out of her rooms. We don’t have time to get into a full blown pros and cons argument. 

Reaching out to cup her cheek and turn her head to face me, I whisper, “I want his help as much as you do, but if we tell him, we might risk never finding Giselle. We don’t know what the effects of it could be.” 

Exhaling an irritated sigh through her nose, she grumbles, “You’re probably right. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

“You never like it when I’m right.” 

Her lips twist at my words, until she reaches up to rest her hand on mine. In the dim light it’s still hard to read her expression when she asks, “Are you all right?” 

I look away before saying, “Maven came to see me tonight.” 

“Is that out of the ordinary?” Her voice is cold and her eyes are narrowed when I look back at her. Shaking my head in answer, I turn away to run my hand through my hair. “He was asking about something I did earlier today.” 

Her silence is brittle and I tense for only a moment, knowing she will probably drop kick me out a window when she hears what I did. Glancing at her over my shoulder I say, “I was asking about Storm Legion, and about the Reds that were transferred into it.” 

“Shade’s legion?” She murmurs dubiously, her brows scrunching as she thinks over those words. Suddenly they shoot up to her hairline and she spits in furious whisper, “Cal!” 

“I had asked about it the first time too. Just… not as in depth.”

“You just told me we couldn’t bring Julian in on this because we have no idea what effect it might have, but you’re running around willy nilly doing who knows what by asking questions you shouldn’t be!” She shoves her hands into her hair and her fury is enough that the lights in the chandelier overhead flicker to life for a moment. 

“I’m trying to help us later—” 

“While almost getting yourself caught! What were you thinking? Better yet, were you even thinking at all?” 

“You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a child,” I snap. She immediately falls silent, but the anger still flickers in her eyes. She inhales slowly and exhales at the same speed, like she’s buying time. 

Eventually, when I assume she’s calmed down enough not to scream, she asks, “What did you find out?”

“Nothing, no one would tell me anything.” The same thing had happened before. I had been told not to worry about it, that it was just another regiment of soldiers. The same excuses had come out this time too. 

“Stop poking at things you shouldn’t poke at, Cal.” She demands before walking to the candle and picking it up. I watch her movements, trying to read exactly how upset she is. I suppose if she were on the verge of killing me like I thought she would for half a second, she would have called me Tiberias. “You need to go, time’s almost up.” 

“Mare—” 

“Go, Cal. We can’t make another mistake.” 

When we had stayed in Paradise Valley the first time since the end of the war, we had made a promise. We had both agreed that we would never go to bed angry with each other. If something happened to the other the next day, we didn’t want our last memories to be of fighting. It was a good promise; one I didn’t intend to break just because we are back here. 

Drawing myself to my full height, I plant my feet and say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be hypocritical. I was trying to help us later though.” 

Her eyes dance to me for a moment, wary of my apology and my reasoning. She looks away again, her hand tightening around the candle. “I know.” As if those words have the rest of her anger in them, her shoulders drop and her fingers loosen on the candle.

My shoulders relax too, even when she turns quickly to face me again. Her voice is softer this time, but just as forceful. “You don’t need to be such a damn hero. You don’t need to try and right whatever wrongs you committed. You right them eventually, that should be enough.” 

I hadn’t been trying to do that, at least, I didn’t think that had been my intentions. Maybe she was right though. I step closer to her again, sliding my hand around her waist as I guide her out of the bathroom and toward the closet. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

As soon as we step back in the closet, she stands on her toes to press a kiss to my cheek. “Be careful, please. We have... so much waiting for us.” 

She wanted to say something else, I know she did. There’s no time to ask questions though. I’ll have to ask her about it another time. Turning my head to complete the kiss for a heartbeat, I murmur, “No more righting wrongs. I got it.” 

Still her fingers close around my mine as I open the door, and trail along them as I leave, like she is trying to hold on for a long as possible. I wish I could go back through the door once its closed though and crawl into bed with her and pretend that we aren’t here. I wonder if she feels the same way.

(//////////)

The days are monotonous while I wait for the ball. I ease into the schedules and the meetings, keeping my mouth shut like I told Mare I would. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to strangle Volo Samos with my bare hands sometimes though. Or from wanting to argue with my father until we’re both out of breath. Right now is one of those times. 

“Between us, conscription letters might be what gives me early arthritis,” he grumbles, even though I can hear the laughter in his tone. I look up from the papers I’m reading to watch him flex his fingers a few times. The large stack of letters on his other side still waiting to be signed makes my stomach drop. 

“I suppose you could sign less of them.” I murmur before looking back to my papers. I don’t have the patience today to joke about something like that. I’m still nauseous from hearing about another young Red legion that didn’t make it back from the trenches. Fifty eighteen year olds too ill prepared for what waited for them. Even out of the corner of my eye I can see his expression fall. 

I feel like the time that I am spending with him should be a gift, but almost everything he says makes me want to shout him down. I had been just as ignorant too once upon a time. This is the curse I suppose of reliving the past. Sighing, I set my book of numbers down and massage the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, I’m tired.”

He watched me carefully before saying, “You’re working too hard. If it’s not Shadow Legion, it something else.” 

I work harder someday to fix the mistakes our people made, I want to grumble. I had plenty of sleepless nights after I abdicated. Shaking myself out, I lean back in my chair to avoid meeting his eye. He tilts his head to the side, his expression softening further. “It’ll get easier once we handle this Scarlet Guard and return to Archeon.” 

“I’ll be at the front by that point.” A lie. I never make it there with Shadow Legion. But I do make it to another front. 

“You were always more comfortable there.” He reasons, and reaches for the next letter. The only reason I was so comfortable there was because he had pushed me harder than Maven to be there. Elara would have never let her son go to the front as much as I did. I have a feeling she was hoping a stray bullet with my name on it would embed itself in my skull. It would certainly make her coup easier. Too bad that bullet was never made. 

“Do you think my mother would be happy with that?” I ask finally bringing my eyes back to him. The moment the words are out, I want to swallow them, especially when his eyes shutter and then light with a fire I hadn’t seen in a long time. He sets his pen down and speaks with the dangerously low tone that made me shut up as a kid. “That is a question I don’t have an answer for.” 

Maybe it’s how bitter I am with the whole situation, maybe it’s the fact that I read her diary and know the truth of her desires. But I can’t keep the next words from escaping. “Something tells me she wouldn’t.” 

“Your mother was young. She wasn’t well after you were born.” 

“Funny, Julian says—”

“Is he where all this is coming from?” His voice is quiet thunder, a storm about to break. I was in dangerous territory now. I don’t drop my gaze, but I do pull back into my seat a little bit, giving some ground. He’s a blood hound though, and smells trouble for my mindset. He won’t let it go now. “He’s always been soft about the Red situation. Has he been pushing you to question things that are not your business yet? Has he been speaking to you about treasonous things?”

“No.” I state coolly. I knew Julian and my father had a rough relationship, especially because of Elara. If he is searching for a reason to dismiss Julian entirely I won’t let it come from me. Especially with the safe haven he creates for Mare. Another misstep, another poor choice of words. Mare would kill me if she found out I was the reason she lost her teacher. 

“If he is whispering poison in your ear, I worry for our little Red girl that we have entrusted him with.” His hands curl into fists on the table and his bracelets spark. I swallow, trying to think of the words that will fix this. Why couldn’t I just keep my emotions in check? I was smarter than this. I’d picked the wrong fight and now I was going to have to dig my way out. 

“Julian hasn’t told me anything. I’ve just… I’ve just been thinking about my mother a lot. Leading up to Queenstrial I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I know so little about her.” I’d know about that deal they made since the time I could understand what it had meant. While my father was not the first to marry outside of Queenstrial, he would be the last. Elara would be the last Queen chosen by the ancient rite. 

My words soften the anger that he has barely reigned in, and he slowly sinks into his chair. Shaking his head and reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he says, “I’ve told you about her. You know everything I know.” 

Lie, lie, lie. 

I’ve got myself out though, I won’t argue again. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.” 

When he looks up at me this time, his face is more drawn than I remember. There is far more grey in his hair than my nightmares let me remember too. He drunk himself to an early old age. I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t do the same. 

The door into the council room opens once more, announcing the beginning of our next meeting. Maven enters before anyone else, dressed for the event. He looks like a prince, like a king. How could I ever think I could compete with him. He had been right when he told Mare I was a blunt force weapon. I wasn’t Farley, who was good at questioning orders and making decision. I was good at being put on target and used. If this whole series of events didn’t show that, I didn’t know what else did. 

He eyes the two of us carefully, reading the tension in the room as he sits on the other side of our father. He’ll catalogue that away for later, probably to inform his mother that there is something wedging itself between us. Wonderful. I’ve slipped again. I can only hope this doesn’t come to bite me. 

I give him a smile nonetheless though, and he returns it. We play the parts of loving brothers easily. No wonder I believed everything. He’s a good enough actor for both of us. This time at least I know my script, and I know my role. “This tax briefing won’t be easy today.” 

His lips curl up at the challenge. “Are they ever?”

[7-wonders]

Season of the Witch

Summary: While you’re attempting to survive being kidnapped by a coven of vengeful witches, Michael is not taking your disappearance well. Like, at all.

Word Count: 3082

A/N: Welcome to the trash heap (aka another chapter of Mad Love). Hope everybody is safe and relatively happy right now in the midst of these turbulent times. If you ever just need someone to chat with, I’m always willing to lend an ear.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

Much like the first time you were taken against your will, you wake up feeling like you’ve just taken a long nap instead of regaining consciousness after being knocked out. Lights shine harshly on your face, forcing you to squint your eyes while you take in your surroundings. The room is small, with no windows to be seen. You think you might be in a basement of some kind, especially with the pipes running along the ceiling. There’s not much for furnishings, just a couple of chairs at one end of the room and the threadbare mattress that you’re settled on. When you try to stand to further examine the room, a heaviness on your left ankle makes you look down and realize that you’re shackled to the floor. At least the Satanists had the decency not to chain you up when they kidnapped you.

“Hello?” you shout, walking as far as the chain will allow you to go towards the door. “Is anybody out there?”

It’s difficult to fully remember what happened before you ended up here. You’re only able to see flashes of scenes; a deer, slamming on brakes, crawling on the damp ground, and four women. You’re supposed to have a sizable cut on your forehead, but prodding the skin reveals no blemish of any kind. Did you just imagine the crash and your injury, or have you been out for longer than you thought?

You’re startled when two of the women you had seen in the woods appear in the room without the door opening. The blonde with kind eyes and the redhead who’s dressed like your elderly grandmother’s floor lamp stand across from you, both staring as they attempt to learn what your move will be.

“Who are you people? Where did you take me?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant, but you really can’t be blamed.

“Why don’t you have a seat (Y/N)? We can further discuss what’s going on, and talk about getting you unchained.” You narrow your eyes, but sit on the mattress since you’re not exactly in a position to be arguing. “My name is Cordelia Goode, does that sound familiar to you?”

“No, should it?”

Cordelia pulls a chair closer to you before sitting down, but the other woman remains standing. “I was just trying to gather the extent of your knowledge on the situation. What do you remember before ending up here?”

“I was,” you pause, the argument that you and Michael had making you huff angrily, “there was a deer that ran out in front of me when I was driving, and I lost control of my car and crashed.”

“I do apologize for that. We weren’t aware of how much it had rained, or else I would have never conjured that illusion. The crash was not something we were planning on.”

“Wait, you made me crash my car?” It only takes a second for you to connect the dots. “Holy shit, you’re witches!”

You don’t know if this is good or bad. The witches are Michael’s enemies, which means they took you for a reason. However, you didn’t need rescuing from Michael; it had been almost a year since your arrangement had begun, and you were far from his captive. Although Michael had never outright told you how Ms. Mead came to be an AI, you had snooped in his office one day and found files related to her creation. A descriptive summary of the background told you everything you needed to know about the capture and execution of Michael’s mother figure, with the goal being to weaken Michael’s resolve to carry out his father’s mission. 

Seeing the panic on your face, Cordelia offers you a reassuring smile. “There’s nothing to worry about, you’re safe.”

“Safe? How the hell am I safe? You kidnapped me!”

“You’re not dead, though, which is ‘safe’ in my book.” The other blonde appears now, obviously not pleased at having to be here.

“But you’re planning on killing me.” They glance at each other awkwardly, not sure how to explain their plan. “Oh, don’t act coy now. I know what you did with Ms. Mead. It was only a matter of time before I was next.”

“As of right now, you’re just...a bargaining tool. You’re what will bring Michael to his knees. It’s obvious that our original plan failed, which is why we’re trying a new tactic,” Cordelia says.

“You couldn’t have just sent him an email?” you ask dryly.

“This was more likely to get his attention.”

“Michael’s going to come for me, you know,” you fold your arms across your chest haughtily, “and when he does, he’s gonna be pissed.”

The other blonde smirks as she bends down in front of you, and you hiss when her manicured nails dig into the skin of your cheeks. “Mm, bold of you to assume that he’s going to show up at all.”

“Madison,” Cordelia chastises, yanking the younger woman up.

“Look, I don’t feel the same, but Michael loves me. And though I don’t know a lot about whatever’s going on between you, I do know that Michael hates all of you.”

“But you told him not to contact you for a few days.” Your spine stiffens when you hear a voice that’s all-too familiar, with Mallory completing the quartet that had found you in the woods.

“Mallory,” you whisper in disbelief. “How do…?”

“You got into a fight with Michael and you told him that calling and texting would do no good because you needed to be alone for a couple of days.” 

“You were in on this? You’re a witch?”

Mallory gives a pained nod, filling you with sick pleasure at the knowledge that she’s not enjoying this. “I wasn’t able to--”

“What the fuck, Mallory!” You lunge for her, determined to get your hands on her and show her just how hurt you are, but the chain around your ankle jerks you painfully to the ground. Mallory opens her mouth to speak, but Cordelia’s hand on her shoulder stops the words before they can form.

“Why don’t you leave for a little bit?” You glare at the women, scoffing darkly.

���Yep, run away Mallory, go ahead and do whatever Cordelia tells you to do!” Mallory’s cheeks flush pink, but, just as expected, she teleports out of the room with the other blonde like the woman (her mom? her boss?) asks her.

“(Y/N),” Cordelia turns back to you, “we’re on the same side here. We both want to see Michael fall.”

“What makes you think I want to see Michael fall?”

“Did he not force you to be his wife?” The redhead finally speaks, her eyes looking owlishly large behind her glasses. “You continue to remain married to him under threats, yes?”

“Michael’s my friend,” you insist, “and you’re going to try and kill him. Regardless of how we came to know each other, I care about him. You don’t sit by and watch your friends fall into a trap that’s going to end with them dead.”

Cordelia’s lips tighten to a thin line as she attempts to hold in her anger. “You’ll come around. Come along, Myrtle.”

The remaining witches disappear right as you tug your shoe off, the footwear being flung at nothing but a wall before you let out a yell of frustration.

Days pass without any sign of Michael, a fact that’s not too surprising considering what you told him before you walked out. Still, you enjoy making the witches’ lives a living hell, so when you’re not flinging profanities at them when they bring you food or unchain you so you can use the restroom, you’re reminding them that Michael’s going to come for them. If you’re being honest, you start to say it more to convince yourself than the witches. It’s been five days since you’ve been kidnapped; surely Michael would have tried to contact you now and realized that something’s wrong?

After seven days of being mostly confined to your small room, you start to lose hope. What if Michael just doesn’t come? He could easily decide that you’re not worth the trouble that you bring and leave your fate in the hands of these witches. For all you know, his father could have picked a perfect Satanic bride for him and he could already be creating heirs with wife number two. It’s a dangerous thought spiral, but what else is there to do when you’re trapped in a windowless cell with minimal human contact for days on end?

As day seven draws to a close (you can tell the days have changed by who comes into your cell: Madison Montgomery in the morning with breakfast, Myrtle Snow brings you lunch, and Cordelia Goode tries to glean more information from you over dinner), you lay facing the back wall on your mattress. You’re trying to figure out if screaming in your mind would reach Michael when you hear somebody say your name from behind you. Turning around, you roll your eyes when you see Mallory standing nervously in the center of the room. She hasn’t shown her face since the day you were thrown in here, which means Cordelia must be trying a new tactic.

You roll back over to face the wall, a silent cue that she’s not welcome here. Instead of leaving, which is what you had hoped for, she sighs and sits down on the chair. “You have every right to be mad at me,” Mallory says.

Mallory’s expecting you to yell at her or throw her a sarcastic insult, which is why you choose to remain silent. She’s obviously not expecting that, and you can hear her shifting her weight as she waits in the hopes that you’ll crack before she does.

“If I were in your position, I’d be mad too.” You admire her tenacity at attempting to get you to speak. “I want you to know that I’m sorry for my involvement in this. I don’t regret protecting my sisters, though; Michael is a threat to our coven, and I will do anything to protect my home. But I’m sorry for lying to you, and for spying on you. When I was given this mission, we were all under the impression that you were going to be this devoted Satanist of a wife.

“Instead, I found out that we were completely wrong. You didn’t even want to be married, let alone married to the Antichrist! You stand up to him in a way that I don’t think he’s ever experienced from anybody, and you treat him like he’s a normal person. You’re...so fucking funny, (Y/N), and you’re caring and kind and always willing to do anything for anybody. You’re my friend, and I’m sorry that I abused that trust to continue with this stupid mission when it obviously wasn’t yielding any answers.”

As you continue your silent streak, you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing when Mallory huffs loudly. The legs of the chair squeak harshly against the ground as she abruptly stands, her patience obviously reaching its end.

“Can you at least say something? Anything? Seriously, anything! Yell, scream, curse, whatever! I don’t care what it is, I just want you to say something.”

While you could, quite literally, say ‘something,’ you decide to indulge her. “I think I got over being mad a couple of days ago.”

“You did?” Mallory asks, voice full of hope.

You turn to lay on your back, still refusing to actually look at Mallory. “A couple of weeks after the Satanists kidnapped me and forced me to marry Michael, I came to the realization that it doesn’t do anyone any good to always be angry. Being constantly bitter and resentful comes at a mental and emotional cost, and that’s not the type of person that I am. I can feel other emotions about a person or event without being angry.”

“Let me guess: you’re not mad, just disappointed?” You chuckle before you can stop yourself, shaking your head.

“No. Mainly, I just feel betrayed.” Heartbreak colors her face, but you continue to talk. “It’s like Michael stabbed me in the back, and then you took the knife out before stabbing me in a different spot.”

“I wish I could change this. I never meant for any of this to happen. You shouldn’t be here right now, and Cordelia should never have kidnapped you.”

“You can change it, Mallory. Get me out of here.” She’s visibly torn, and you sigh. “Right, you can’t. Duty to your sisters, and all that.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Just because you keep saying it, doesn’t mean that I forgive you.” You close your eyes. “Can you leave? I want to be alone right now, and I can’t exactly leave in order to be alone.”

Although the last thing Mallory wants is for the conversation to end like this, she’s trying to win back your favor, so she obliges and leaves. You bury your face into the mattress, refusing to let the tears streaming from your eyes see the light of day. 

///

The first couple of days after you had stormed out of the manor, Michael had respected your wish to not be contacted. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed, but the memory of unbridled hurt on your face when the pieces of this puzzle came together was enough to have him setting his phone back down. He would give you your space, even though it pained him immensely.

As the fourth day without any word from you came and went, Michael began to get concerned. While he had been worried about you before, this was different. You’re the type of person who always keeps to their word, and he knows that you should have--would have contacted him by now. Even if it was just a single sentence saying that you needed more time, he would have received a text from you by now.

Thus began a search that Michael was desperately hoping would not be a search. Sure that he was just overreacting, he attempted divination to figure out where you had gone after you left. Although he could just use his powers to find your current location, he knew that would be a breach of your privacy that would only add to the amount of trouble that he’s in with you. Using a stray hair tie that you had left in his office, Michael then watched in horror as the scene of you crashing into a ditch and being stolen away by witches played out like a movie in front of his eyes.

He had found your car, still sitting wrecked in the same spot where it had come to rest after you hydroplaned across the road. Much to his dismay, there were dark splatters on the ground that he just knew were made by your blood. Even worse was the fact that the witches must have put some sort of magical veil over you, as Michael couldn’t find any trace of you after the crash.

The house became a series of war rooms as Satanists streamed in and out of Michael’s office, each leaving more terrified than they could have ever imagined. He’s heard the whispers from his followers that he’s become fully unhinged, and he can’t say he disagrees. It’s been ten days since you disappeared, and Michael can’t recall actually sleeping once in those ten days. There have been occurrences where he’s passed out from exhaustion on top of his desk, but those moments are few and far between.

The only reason he’s not wearing the same clothes from nearly two weeks ago is because of Ms. Mead’s motherly presence refusing to let him waste away to nothing. She sticks annoyingly to a routine, making sure that Michael eats at least three times a day and takes care of himself. It’s hard to do anything, however, when it feels like a piece of himself is missing. It takes him nearly a week to decipher this new emotion, but when he does, he comes to a startling realization.

Michael misses you. He’s never missed anyone before, but the rawness of a gaping hole in his chest where his heart has been figuratively ripped out can only be described as longing. If he wasn’t suffering from sleep deprivation, he would be able to compose poems about all of the things that he misses about you. Mostly, he just misses your constant presence. He’s not only in love with you; you’re his best friend, and having that companionship taken away so swiftly is something that he’s not dealing with well. 

It’s midnight when he’s stirred out of scrolling through pictures you’ve taken of both of you on his phone, a loud knock on the front door echoing through the house. It couldn’t be a Satanist, since they’ve all gone home until tomorrow, and Michael doesn’t know who else knows where he lives. Getting up to answer the door, he’s half-hoping that it will be you knocking. Instead, it’s someone he never would have expected to see.

“You’re (Y/N)’s friend, right? Mallory?” He’s doing a terrible job at pretending like he’s not shocked to see the small brunette standing at the front door, but attempts some form of nonchalance anyways. “Uh, (Y/N)’s actually not here right now. We got into a fight, and now I don’t--”

“I know,” she cuts Michael off, cringing at the surprise on his face. “Look, before you kill me, you need to hear me out.”

“Kill you? Why would I kill you?”

Mallory takes a deep breath in preparation of her potential impending death. “I’m actually a witch, and a member of Cordelia Goode’s coven. I know where (Y/N) is, and I want to help you get her back.”

Michael stares at her, his face refusing to betray how he feels. His hand flexes at his side as Mallory clenches her eyes shut, having heard stories of how the young Antichrist was able to obliterate his victims’ souls with a single glance.

“You had better explain this situation to the letter, as I’m really not in the mood for games lately.” He spins on his heel and walks into the manor, leaving a stunned Mallory standing behind him before she realizes that she should follow, for better or for worse.

//

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[kibastray]

Can Thieves Fix a Broken Heart?

Mlb x P5

The Phantom Thieves of Hearts go to Paris. 

This could be as a vacation or them setting up shop in a new location. (IDK yet)

The PToH do their thing. Going into the Metaverse and exploring both the Mementos and any Palaces they come across

It all goes well for the PToH team. 

The Akumas are weird. but it seems that Ladybug & Chat Noir can deal with them.

It helps the team find their next mark

Needless to say the Palaces the team come across in Paris are all unique compared to what they were in Japan. 

(while Japan were based off of the Seven Deadly Sins. It seems that Paris’ Palaces are based off Saints and Virtues... maybe could be fun)

One Palace they haven’t yet to find the treasure of belongs to one Lila Rossi. From what they have come to understand is that she has already been akumatized several times

Her Palace is what the team expects in all honesty

Ornate and shiny, full of fake gold and other such things

They have seen this type of person before back in Japan

To the team she is self-centered and views herself as a queen of her own little world

It will only be a matter of time before they find the treasure and can steal her treasure, changing her heart for the better hopefully 

For the most part the team adjust to Paris fairly quickly

That is until one day the get a notice from the Metaverse Navigator about a Palace that is near by. 

It is unprompted and has all three keywords needed to enter.

Name: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Location: Boulangerire Patisserie

Distortion: St.(saint) Seraphim of Sarov Correctional

(personal note: idk any of the saints so please forgive me if this ins’t right. Reason why I chose this) 

1: it is the saint of self-control 

2: after google searching “saint of self-control” I found it and it spells S.o.S... which is perfect for this story

They all agree that having a Palace pop up unprompted AND already having all three keywords to enter is a bit odd, but they wave it off. 

because there is a lot in Paris that hasn’t made a lot of sense, so they don’t question it.

The thing about this Palace, it is MASSIVE. 

Biggest Palace in all of Paris. easily. Ranks up there pretty high when they compare it to all Palaces even including the ones from Japan.

It is themed like a Prison/insane asylum. 

This Palace is different from all others they have come across in Paris. 

Unlike others that show off its opulence in some way, this one doesn’t and even seems a bit bland with its brick and mortar.

The team get the feeling that this Palace is a subconsciously constructed one. Just like Futaba’s was

When they make it in the Palace their hearts sink into their stomachs

Every minor shadow of the Palace, more like Prison, is of the same girl.

And each and every one of them are held up in a room/jail cell. Each of the countless doors they have come across have a window looking in.

Some of the ones that stick out to the team are:

One is mad and hateful, bound in chains

She lashes out out anything she thinks could be dishonest

On the door is a phrase “Take the High Road.”

Another is scared and clearly trying to stop herself from crying at the jeers and insults blaring at her from the in-room speakers

the door says “Set a good example”

Another still is making all sorts of heart shaped things, obviously love struck for someone. 

but instead of giving them away she stacks them to the side with a sad expression 

On the door “don’t be jealous.”

Others range from a mad-hatter-esk girl worrying about maintaining schedules and deadlines, to a sleuth trying to find out ‘Who is he’

The last door they come across is the only double door so far

on one is the girl’s name “Marinette” on the other is the name of a local hero “Ladybug”

On Marinette’s door it says “Our everyday Ladybug” and on Ladybug’s it says “Must never faultier”

When the team go in they see a stage with two of girl on it. 

Marinette is keeping up a smile and using niceties while a ball and chain is on both ankles 

Ladybug is capturing an akuma, purifying it, then releasing it. 

With everything they have seen and with what is in front of them, the Team’s heart break a little

Every Palace before this one was of someone lording their position of power, or hiding a secret. 

this girl’s Palace doesn't show any desire at all. It looks to be actively policing any desire the girl may have.

This isn’t a Palace at all. this is a Prison locking and sealing away the very heart that created it.

The Thieves don’t get long to dwell on that revelation as a third version of the girl passes by them with a quick “Pardon monsieurs, mademoisells.”

Other than that she doesn’t pay them any attention 

This version of the girl is obviously the true shadow self of the poor girl

She looks well dressed and business like.

Similar to Caroline and Justine’s outfits if not a rank up from that though

No hat, but her hair is done up in a bun

A plain porcelain mask with a kind smile hides everything but her eyes

draped over her shoulders is a, shoulder length, cape that has the world’s continents stitched into it. 

She is the de facto warden of this Palace turned Prison

She addresses the two on stage with a cool and calm demeanor 

She tells them how to correct what they are doing and how to do it right

The pair on stage repeat their actions they did before as the warden has them do it again until it is perfect

The team can’t help but think that it is like a pair of puppets being placed and posed to be set in the perfect position

Seeing enough the Phantom Thieves try and deal with the warden

it could be through combat like the game, or just talking to her (either way it ends the same)

The mask falls off the warden and reveals the same girl they have seen this entire infiltration. 

When the mask hits the floor it flies straight to the Marinette on stage.

When it does the two girls outfits change instantly.

The new warden walks off the stage and chastises the new Marinette for loosing focus.

“if Ladybug can handle a jab like that, then so can you.”

It is a sickly calm to her voice when she speaks. (and it sounds wrong to the team)

The new Marinette gives a shaky “R-right” before she gets on stage and takes the old marinette’s place, practicing the same scene as before. 

The Warden looks at the band of thieves “How may I help you?”

with her yellow/golden glowing with intensity and the calm way she says it sends a chill up their spines.

“There must be some way I can help you correct those errant behaviors of yours.”

As she says that, and with her eyes on them, do the Phantom Thieves understand that this will be their toughest fight/heist yet. 

And they are right, because when they try and reengage the Warden they lose ground quickly and have to retreat. 

Each time they defeat a warden the mask flies to another Marinette and the fight starts anew with a refreshed Warden.

While running to safety a little red mote light leads them to a safe room.

the red light is formless (it’s Tikki, but they don’t know that)

She tells them that; she had been trying to help Marinette but there is only so much they can do to off set all the negativity/chaos in Marinette’s life. 

The team thank the little light and head out to find the treasure of this Prison

Sneaking around they meet other motes of light, all willing to help the team out (guardian Mari gets all the Kwami) 

Even with the help of the little lights the team still have to retreat and regroup from the Prison. Because the Warden is too strong any time they come across her

Once in the real world the team agree to learn more about this girl and how to help her.

To do that they need to get to know Marinette.

Skull and Panther meet her at the bakery. 

 ( Ryuji and Ann). as both can play off the tourist looking for good food and light conversation

They find her to be very nice and well meaning. even going as far as to offer places to visit in Paris

Fox and Queen meet her at school as teacher’s aids 

(Yusuke and Makoto) they are the most likely to be able to actually be of help to the teachers and students

They find her to be the class-president that rivals Queen’s own work ethic back when they were all still in school.

Noir and Crow meet her when she is touring the city.

 (Haru and Goro) are the best at one on ones in their own right.

Find out about her passion of being a fashion designer (maybe add in her sketches of the Phantom Thieves’ outfits with little changes here and there)

Oracle (Futaba) looks up her online presence

She finds out that Marinette is connected to every major personality that has roots in Paris some way or another. and that the girl’s fashion website is top tier.

Joker & Morgana (Protagonist and mascot) meet her during her nightly patrols as a hero.

Ladybug was suspicious of them at first but when they calmed her down and reassuring her that they aren’t akuma they find out exactly what is going on in Paris and find out who the main villain is. 

They all see the same thing however.

A young girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders. 

Worse part is that she hides it so well behind that mask of hers. 

The one with a kind smile and friendly tone.

(side note just because I couldn’t figure out a way to put this in: the Phantom Thieves are immune to Hawkmoth. I am gonna say that their Personas keep them safe by destroying/purifying the akuma right away or hiding them from Hawkmoths perception)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would like to thank @miraculous786 for letting me bounce another idea off of them.

1) I don’t know to much about Persona 5, just the basics. 2) When I came up with this it turned into a POV from the Phantom Thieves 3) It is more geared to be a sad/angst fic, au, prompt. 4) anything that doesn’t make sense as far as references go (realworld or otherwise) is because it was the end result of a quick google search. Please forgive me if I don’t have it right.

Edit: reorganized things a bit. 

[absentplatypus]

Hey, remember how I said I was going to post a little something writing today? Well, here it is. It’s called ‘The Krakow Tapes’ and it’s a story/document about five tapes found in Krakow, Poland, (hence the name). It’s very inspired by the SCP Foundation, but it is not an SCP, it’s my own original piece. I think it also has some of the vibes of the Magnus Archives, so think of it as a bit of a combo between the two. Full story under the cut, as it’s 3,556 words.

Entry #: 4061---------> The Krakow Tapes

Description:

The Krakow Tapes are a collection of five recordings recovered in Krakow, Poland in 2015. These recordings feature a variety of locations in and around the city. The recurring cast, so to speak, is formed by a redheaded woman, a blonde woman, two men with dark hair, and the man behind the camera, of whom we only get scant glimpses.

The recordings are made using equipment that would date them to the 1960s, but the dress of the people and the tapes they are found on would suggest the 1980s. (Note: The tapes were able to be played on a VCR.) The one exception to the 1980s style clothing is the shirt worn by the blonde woman in one of the tapes, which displays an asexual pride flag, despite that flag’s creation dating to 2010.

The identities of the five people in the tapes remain unknown, but efforts to identify them are continued as of the writing of this entry.

The recordings are of comparably high quality, given the equipment used, but all of the tapes experience audio or visual interference at a variety of points. All those present in the recordings speak in Polish, and translated transcripts are available, attached to this document.

The tapes were found scattered on the ground in an alleyway unlabeled, and no other physical evidence has been found pertaining to these recordings, as of the writing of this entry.

There is no official order, chronological or otherwise, for the tapes. Additionally, as of the writing of this entry, they remain undated.

[End description.]

Transcripts:

The following are the transcripts of the tapes, translated into English. As such, the transcripts may not be fully accurate.

Tape #: 1.

[The recording begins with the redheaded woman, standing on a rooftop. It is late afternoon. The rooftop is painted white. Other buildings are visible in the background. The woman is wearing ripped jeans with a short sleeved shirt and leather jacket.]

Cameraman: “We’re going.”

Redheaded woman: “We’re going? Oh, good, good. Hey everyone! [She spreads her arms wide, smiling.] “We’re back home again, back in the city.”

[The camera turns to show the skyline, and the blonde woman is visible in the shot.]

[The redheaded woman laughs.] 

RW: “We’ve been having a good time so far, much better than we’ve had recently.”

CM: “Yeah, safe to say we’ve been sleeping a little rough.”

[RW nods in agreement.] 

RW: “Yeah. I always have us prioritize food and water over other things.”

[The blonde woman walks into frame.]

Blonde woman: “That’s because you’re bossy. When you get going it's hard for us to get a word in edgewise, much less argue.”

[A vocalization is heard. The camera pans over, and the source is revealed to be one of the dark haired men.]

RW, from offscreen: “What are you doing?”

[The two men are embracing, and swaying back and forth. (Note: Due to what evidence is available, it is believed that they are in a relationship. This theory has not given light to any new leads to the identity of the people, or purpose of the recordings.) The vocalizations are believed to be singing.]

Singing dark haired man: “Having fun, buzzkill!” 

Other dark haired man: “He’s gonna be a music man. Right?”

DHM: “Shut it, you.”

[The other dark haired man smiles and rests his head on the other man’s shoulder. The camera moves back to the RW and BW.]

RW: “Right, back to it. We’re staying here for now, but the view is gorgeous.”

BW: “We love this city.”

[The CM vocalizes his agreement.]

[RW begins to walk, and reaches a cooler, opening it. The sound of heels clicking is heard. She removes a bottle of water.]

RW: “We’ve got lots of water this time, so we’re set for at least a month. Food’s easier to come by, since we’re in the city, so I’m not worried about that.”

[RW takes a sip of her water.]

CM: “Yeah, we’re way better prepared than Paris.”

[RW laughs. The motion shakes her earrings, which dangle from her ears, and the chain attached to her jacket.]

RW: “Paris was a mess! We were stuck down there for days, and then we got separated.”

[RW shakes her head. There is notable visual distortion here.]

RW: “It was a lot.”

[BW fully enters the shot.]

BW: “All because that one guy wouldn't leave us alone.”

[Both RW and BW shake their heads.]

RW: “Some people just don’t know when to live and let live, as they say.”

CM: “We didn’t even take that much from him. And it’s not like any of the stuff was stuff he couldn’t replace.” (Note: This conversation, along with other bits of information found in the tapes, would imply the people in these recordings are involved in criminal activity. No police or court records have been found matching what evidence is available. This aspect is still under investigation.) 

[The dark haired men move closer, and BW greets them.]

ODHM: “It’s getting about that time. Who’s turn is it to grab the night supplies?”

RW: I’d do it, but my ankle hurts so I’m not gonna be up to the climb.”

CM: “If you don’t feel up to it, we’re not going to make you, sweetheart.” (Note: There is evidence suggesting CM and RW are in a relationship. This theory has led nowhere.)

DHM: “You might be willing to let her off the hook. We’ve all done more in worse states.”

BW: “I’ll do it.”

[The camera is set down on a ledge, and the remaining fifteen minutes of the recording is footage of the skyline and the sunset.]

[End transcript of Tape #: 1]

Tape #: 2

[The recording begins on the same rooftop as before. It’s nighttime, and a few stars are visible. There are sleeping bags spread around the roof, duffle bags and backpacks, and a second cooler in addition to the one from the first recording. A fire pit has been set up in the center of the roof, and a fire has been lit. Wood is piled beside it.]

CM: “Beautiful night here. Not too cold, and we managed to snag a fire pit.”

[The sound of heels is heard, and RW jumps on CM from behind.]

CM: “Hey, hey! Careful of the camera!”

RW: “I know, I know.”

[The camera turns to face her, and she is dimly lit by the fire.]

RW: “You can be no fun sometimes, you know that?”

CM: “I’m careful.”

[The camera is moved in a panoramic shot of the rooftop. The dark haired men are sitting in chairs next to the fire, holding hands. The blonde woman is walking on the ledge, making a vocalization that is believed to be humming. She is holding a glass bottle in her hand.]

RW: “Do you want me to grab you a drink?”

CM: “Sure. You know what I like.”

[RW moves into frame as she walks to one of the coolers, and removes two glass bottles. One of the bottles is lit well enough to identify it as beer. RW hands one of the bottles to CM.]

DHM: “Come sit!”

[RW and CM walk over to the chairs, and each take a seat. CM sits across from the three of them, so that they are in frame. The camera zooms in on the night skyline, and remains there for five seconds, and then zooms back out, and the people are again in the shot.]

ODHM: “I love the city at night. So peaceful. Plus, I’m with you.”

DHM: “Yeah.” 

[DHM smiles and gives ODHM a kiss on the cheek. RW smiles.]

RW: “Anyway, we plan on staying here for a while. We’re not going to have the fire on too much longer, but I’m not super concerned as there’s a chimney on this building.”

[The vocalizations from BW grow louder, and appear to be singing. It is noted that there is audio distortion at this time.]

ODHM: “Be careful! None of us are going to catch you if you fall off.”

[The camera is moved so that it is pointed at BW. She is still walking along the ledge with the bottle, and her step is noticeably more uneven. There is slight visual distortion, which may be a result of the equipment used.]

BW: “I’m fine.”

RW: “Just come down, please. You can come sit with us!”

[BW stops walking. The camera zooms to show her mock pout, and zooms out to film her walking towards the rest of the group. She takes a seat next to DHM.]

RW: “Should we talk about our plans for what we’re going to do next?”

ODHM: “Sure. We’re going to lay low for a while. Like we said before, there’s that one guy who won’t get off our backs.”

[RW and DHM roll their eyes.]

ODHM: “Besides that, we never do anything here, in our home city.”

DHM: “Yeah. We want this to be our safe spot, a place we can come back to. Whenever we do something, if the fallout is bad enough we may never come back. We like the freedom to move.”

BW: “We talked a little about going to Moscow next, right?”

RW: “Yeah, we did. Nothing’s set in stone, as if we ever do that, but yeah, I think we should.”

ODHM: “From what we’ve heard, there’s definitely a space there for what we do. Even if it’s not what we do next, we’ll definitely do it at some point.”

CM: “Personally I’d like to go because the city is beautiful. I’d love to take pictures there. City that big’s gotta have a decent place to develop them, too.”

[DHM and BW sound their agreement. RW gets up and tosses a couple of logs onto the fire.]

RW: “We’ll let it get through those and then put it out. Gotta sleep sometime, and we really shouldn’t be sleeping with an open fire around.”

ODHM: “Yeah, I’d rather not go up in flames in my sleep.”

[The next few minutes of the recording are extremely distorted, and when that ceases, RW and DHM are putting out the fire.]

BW: “You guys got it?”

RW: “Yeah, you head to bed. Or bag, rather.”

[The fire is put out, and the camera lingers on a shot of the city skyline. The recording is turned off after approximately a minute and thirty seconds.]

[End transcript of Tape #: 2]

Tape #: 3

[The recording begins with a shot of a rose. The camera moves to show a park, all of the people, save CM, are shown in this shot.]

CM: “You guys can talk now, I’ve got the shot.”

RW: “Oh, cool. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

[BW nudges RW in the arm. They are seated on a bench, and BW is wearing a shirt with the asexual pride flag on it.]

BW: “Didn’t you say we were going to have lunch now?”

RW: “Yes! I left the basket in the car. I’ll be right back.”

[RW gets up and heads offscreen.]

DHM: “While she’s getting that, I’ll give you a brief rundown. We had a bit of time to ourselves, and we decided to hang out in this park and have lunch.”

[ODHM laughs.]

DHM: “Well, I said it’d be brief.”

ODHM: “Yes you did.”

[RW returns with a picnic basket in hand.]

RW: “Did we decide where we’re eating?”

DHM: “Uh, the park?”

[RW rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.]

RW: “I know that, Mr. Sarcastic, but I’m talking about the specific spot. We can eat on the benches, but I did bring a blanket.”

BW: “Just spread it out in front, if someone wants to sit on the bench they can, if someone wants to sit on the blanket they can.”

[RW and BW spread the blanket on the ground. RW sets the basket down on the right side, and CM sits on the blanket, with the others remaining in frame. RW and BW sit down on the blanket, and DHM and ODHM remain on the bench.]

ODHM: “Can you still see us okay?” 

CM: “Yes.”

ODHM: “Cool, cool.”

[The next ten minutes of the recording are of them eating. There is light conversation throughout, but audio distortion makes it mostly inaudible.]

DHM: “So yeah, not eating there again.”

[They all laugh.]

BW: “Fun story, but it is really the one to tell while we’re eating?”

ODHM: “She’s got a point.”

[DHM rolls his eyes.]

DHM: “You’ll be fine.”

[ODHM takes DHM’s hand.]

ODHM: “You’ve gotta lotta snark in you, don’tcha.”

RW: “Yeah, he does.”

[RW pats DHM’s knee.]

CM: “If we’re all done, we should put the food stuff back in the car.”

BW: “Ever the clean freak.” 

[BW smiles into the camera, looking at CM.]

DHM: “I’ll help, if you’re doing it.”

BW: “Okay.”

[BW and DHM clean up. RW and CM get off of the blanket. RW and ODHM fold up the blanket and pass it to BW. BW takes the basket and heads offscreen. The other three sit on the benches while CM stands.]

CM: “Good to be here, with you guys. I hate it when we can’t be together.”

DHM: “Yeah. It almost feels like we’re always together when we are, but when we’re apart it’s like we never have.” 

[RW and CM make noises of agreement.]

ODHM: “I love you guys.” 

[The camera is set down, and all but the legs and feet of the people are out of frame. It is believed that they are embracing each other here. The camera stays on this shot for six seconds, before becoming incredibly distorted. When the recording is clear again, it is on a shot of BW and RW embracing each other. BW is holding out a camera, pointed at them, and RW has her arm draped across BW’s chest and her hand is resting on her shoulder. ] 

[End transcript of Tape #: 3]

Tape #: 4

[The recording begins with footage of the carpeted floor of a restaurant. The camera moves as CM walks. After fifteen seconds the movement ceases.]

DHM: “We’re clear.”

[CM moves through a door into a bathroom. The camera remains pointed at the tiled floor.]

CM: “We’re the only ones in here?”

BW: “Yes, we are.”

[The camera moves up to about eye level. BW is in front of the camera, wearing a deep blue dress with criss-cross cording down the front. RW is half out of frame.]

ODHM: “Everyone’s in here, we’re just behind the camera. Small bathroom, you see.”

[The camera moves in a circle around the room. RW becomes fully in the shot, wearing a knee length silver dress. DHM and ODHM are shown in frame, and they are wearing suits. The camera completes its rotation and stops once BW is in the frame again.]

CM: “Do you want to explain? I stopped on you, but I can move.”

BW: “No, no, I can do it.” 

DHM: “Awesome.”

BW: “If you don’t interrupt, that is, please and thank you.”

DHM: “Sorry.”

BW: “Anyway, this is very impulsive and not what we’re supposed to be doing, we’re working right now but we all look gorgeous and we wanted to preserve it for posterity.” 

RW: “Yeah we do!”

[The camera turns to focus on RW, and she spins to show off her dress. When she’s done, she blows a kiss toward the camera. The camera moves back to BW.]

BW: “So, yeah. We can’t talk about what we’re doing, we’re not supposed to, but we are enjoying ourselves. Can’t say that about every time when we’re working.”

[ODHM voices his agreement.]

BW: “How much time do we have in here?”

RW: “I think about five more minutes. Food is gonna be here soon and we’re already been gone for a while. Don’t want them to get suspicious.” (Note: Whoever ‘them’ is has not been identified. However, the restaurant the people are in has been identified, based on the carpet pattern. The restaurant is no longer in business, but the building still has the same carpet.)

[RW walks in frame. She stands next to BW.]

RW: “Let’s get a shot of us all together before we stop.” 

[RW gestures DHM and ODHM over to the same side of the bathroom as her. CM has to take a couple of steps back to get them all in frame. As he steps back, a brief glimpse of his reflection is visible in the mirror. The facial features are mostly blurred, but the man appears to have light brown hair.]

DHM: “Can you see us all?”

CM: “Yes.”

[DHM and ODHM position themselves on the outermost side of RW and BW, respectively. They stand there and smile. A knock is heard at the door. The camera points towards the ground and is shut off.]

[End transcript of Tape #:4]

Tape #: 5

[The recording begins with a shot of a bridge. Traffic is moving at a steady interval on the road on top. The bridge was painted white, but the paint is peeling, and much of the bridge has been graffitied.  One section has what more closely resembles a mural, with an impressionistic sea scene and birds flying above it. Four of the five people are standing under the bridge.]

CM: “You know, I like this bridge. It’s not the most unique, but something about it is just nice.”

[ODHM spots the camera and jogs over. He smiles.]

ODHM: “I knew you couldn’t resist filming the bridge.”

CM: “It’s a nice bridge.”

[ODHM laughs.]

ODHM: “Yeah, I guess it is. Come on, we’ve snagged some fruit. Your favorite!”

[He turns and walks over to RW, who is holding a plastic shopping bag. CM follows.]

CM: “For your information, fruit is not my favorite. I just like eating healthy food. It seems strange to you because you’re twenty-five percent chips.”

[ODHM and RW both laugh. RW rests her hand on her stomach.]

RW: “Hey, play nice you two.”

ODHM: “We will.”

[ODHM tosses his arm around RW’s shoulders. DHM comes into frame.]

DHM: “Did you get any bananas? I’ve been wanting some lately.”

RW: “Yeah, right here.”

[RW rummages in the bag, removes a banana and hands it to DHM, who begins to eat it.]

CM: “Now, what do we say?”

[DHM snorts.]

DHM: “Thank you.”

CM: “There you go.”

DHM: “You realize I’m, how old? I’m old enough to know when to say thank you.”

RW: “First of all, do you not know your own age? And second, it’s not just knowing when, it’s doing it, too.”

BW: “Manners!”

DHM: “Why don’t you come over here and tell me yourself?”

[BW jogs over to be in frame.]

BW: “I was talking to a squirrel, who was chasing another squirrel that was trying to eat a nut.”

[They all laugh.]

RW: “Yeah, sounds like you.”

[RW reaches out and pulls BW to her side.]

ODHM: “Dork.”

[ODHM smiles at BW, who smiles back.]

BW: “I am. And you are too.”

CM: “We’re all dorks, I think. It’s probably why we get along so well.”

RW: “Birds of a feather.”

CM: “Exactly.”

[BW points behind CM.]

BW: “There go the squirrels!”

[The camera is spun around to catch the squirrels chasing each other. The camera zooms in on the animals running after each other, and eventually up a tree. The camera turns back toward the people.]

ODHM: “Other than watching squirrels and eating fruit, we haven’t been up to much lately.”

RW: “We’ve decided to take a little break, and just enjoy life for a little while.”

CM: “Like this bridge.”

RW: “Like this bridge. And really, would we be proper miscreants if we didn’t hang out under bridges?”

DHM: “I feel like ‘proper miscreants’ defies the whole point of miscreants.”

[BW shrugs.]

BW: “It’s possible.”

RW: “Anyway, we were going to go down to this pond and feed some ducks. I have bread in the bag.”

[RW smiles at CM.]

RW: “Do you want to put the camera down and come with us? Live in the moment, you know?”

CM: “Yeah, yeah, alright. I’ll come along.”

[The closing shot of this recording is of the four people in the frame smiling, until the camera turns off.]

[End transcript of Tape #: 5]

End Notes:

There isn’t much to say, on this one. Most of the information we have is already in this entry, and what’s left is just menial stuff that is filed somewhere else. The annoying thing about cases like this is that unless any new evidence turns up, we’re never going to fully solve it. Usually if cases like this are solved, it’s just people messing around, making one of those ‘alternate reality games’ that are so popular nowadays. It’s rare for it to be something that needs a real investigation.

Well, I guess it’ll just stay open, then. This is just a weird set of tapes with a bunch of time inconsistencies and some possible offscreen criminal activity. Nothing we can turn over as actual evidence of something going on.

If you’re reading this, you know the protocol. If anything else turns up related to this case, you notify the research team. Unless you have specific permission to do so, do not edit this entry. You know the consequences.

[End (End Notes)]

[End Entry #: 4061---------> The Krakow Tapes]

[abused-sides]

Willingly Shackled [Whumptober 2020]

Note: I’m doing whumptober as a series. Check out the tag #whumptober 2020 v on my blog to read in order. Also on ao3.

Prompt: No. 4: Running Out Of Time [Caged] 

Synopsis: Styx works with Virgil. 

Trigger warnings: Cults, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, kidnapped, lots of non-sexual but just as non-consensual touching, humiliation, treating people like property, blood, knives, violence/beatings, a person in a cage, let me know if I missed anything 

Word count: 1706 

A/N: This probably took twice as long to write as it needed to because I kept stopping to wince and procrastinate lmao 

October 2nd. 7:25 pm. 

Janus expected Virgil to lose his fight after Styx humiliated him, but if anything, that humiliation made him more fierce, more angry. He fought every order Styx gave him, defying him until he wasn’t able to anymore- whether that was due to physical or mental exhaustion -and the next time Styx visited, they started from the beginning. 

Styx, like his leader, began with manipulation to get Virgil to do what he wanted. 

He had crouched one day, beckoning Virgil over like a dog. “Are you really not tired of making things so hard for yourself? We’re not letting you out, so you might as well just accept it. Maybe you won’t be in those chains anymore. Just ask Janus— Up those stairs, life is much better. You’re lucky to have been chosen. If you just let yourself, you could be part of it.” 

Virgil covered his blistering ankles and pressed himself into the corner. “Janus left you for a reason, you psychotic fuck,” he snapped. “I’d rather die than be your pet.” 

He sighed. “Janus?” He looked at him tiredly. “Will you tell him?”

Janus swallowed and pursed his lips. “He’s not wrong, Virgil,” he said quietly. “It’s better if you listen.”

“It’s more than better. Don’t you want to go outside again? To walk around freely? To eat whenever you want? You can essentially have your life back, Virgil, if you just listen. You won’t have to work anymore. Doesn’t that sound better? No more gross motels.”

“What, in exchange for being your slave?” Virgil spat. “I’m fine right here.” 

When that didn’t work, he once again followed Bates’ lead and resorted to violence. 

Virgil screamed as Styx’s knife carved lines in his back. His binder, splattered with blood, was tossed to the side, his chest pressed to the stone floor. 

“Come on!” Styx shouted over Virgil’s cries, his blade a nonstop motion. “What do you say? I’ll stop when you admit it!” 

Virgil’s nails cracked and broke as he dragged them down the stone, his screams growing louder. Styx slid the knife around to his side and dug in deeper, twisting his wrist. 

“What do you say?” 

Virgil grit his teeth. Styx cut deeper, and Virgil’s eyes rolled back, his body falling limp. Janus hid a smile. 

“Fuck!” Styx used Virgil’s binder to wipe his knife clean and shoved it in his sheath, tossing the binder on one of the filing cabinets. “Remus!” 

The door creaked open and shut, Remus hurrying down the steps. Styx climbed off his seat on Virgil’s waist and stepped over him. 

“Make sure he doesn’t bleed out,” he grumbled as he shouldered past Remus. 

Remus flipped his backpack around and pulled out a Ziploc bag filled with latex gloves. He pulled on a pair and grabbed a cloth, grimacing as he pressed at various places on Virgil’s back. 

“So you’ve become the doctor.” Janus’ voice came out rough, raspy. “How’d that happen?”

Remus shrugged, eyes on Virgil’s cuts. “I’m the least squeamish. Bates has gotten… More enthusiastic, than he was when you left. A lot of our staff can’t handle it anymore. I come in for anything passed some bruising and broken bones.” 

Janus hesitated. “Are you happy?” 

Remus pulled a water bottle of his backpack and drizzled it all over Virgil’s back and side. He dabbed all over until the blood was gone and the cuts were cleaned. His eyebrows pinched as he sewed up the cut in Virgil’s side, and some of the deeper ones on his back. He scooped up antibiotic ointment and rubbed it carefully all over his back, then held him upright while he wrapped him in gauze with one hand. 

Remus slipped Virgil’s shirt back on and leaned him against the wall. The handcuffs clicked around the pipes, the padlocks on the chains that trapped Virgil’s legs. 

“I missed you,” Remus said quietly, not looking at Janus. “I’m sorry you’re back.” 

He started towards the stairs, but when he passed Janus, Janus called his name. He looked at him questioningly. “If I don’t get something to drink soon, I’m gonna fucking pass out. Can you tell Bates I’m complaining?” 

Remus’ eyes flicked to the door. He knelt in front of Janus and pulled another water bottle out. 

Janus’ eyes widened. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.” 

“That’s not something for you to worry about. Open.” 

Janus obeyed, and Remus took his chin between his fingers. He gave Janus water slowly, with breaks in between, until half the bottle was gone. 

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Remus said in a hushed voice. “He’s happy with you. Things are gonna get better soon.”

Janus grimaced. “Thank you, Remus.” 

Remus watched him for a moment, before hurrying out of the room. 

Styx tried the physical route a few more times, but when it was clear Virgil wouldn’t break, he snapped. 

Janus flinched as he dropped the whip. He grabbed Virgil by the back of his neck and forced him to the ground, forehead pressed to the stone. 

“You can keep denying it if that makes you feel better,” he hissed in Virgil’s ear. “But that doesn’t change anything. You’re mine. The second we picked you up from that shithole, you belonged to me. This?” Styx grabbed Virgil’s collar and yanked it back until Virgil gagged. “This marks you as mine. You fight that for the rest of our lives if you have to, but you better get used to being with me.” 

Janus watched it happen. 

He watched Virgil’s eyes cloud over, watched the sobs rip from his throat. His fists unclenched, and his glare faded. 

No. Janus’ eyes widened, his heart hammering. Please don’t. 

“And what do you say?” Styx clearly said it on autopilot, already standing without expecting a response. 

“Thank you, master.” 

Janus’ chest squeezed hard enough to hurt. 

Styx circled to Virgil’s front with a surprised chuckle. “If I knew all you needed was some proof, I would have saved a lot of time! Up!”

Janus blinked away tears as Virgil swayed and struggled to his knees, back straight. 

Styx curled his hands in Virgil’s hair and grinned. “And just like that, you’ve earned dinner. Was that so hard, pet? Speak.” 

“No,” Virgil mumbled. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, what?” 

Janus looked away. 

“No, master.” 

“Good boy! Looks like Janus is finally rubbing off on you. I knew bunking you two was the right decision.” 

Janus’ stomach lurched with the urge to throw up. You’re destroying him. You’re a coward and it’s hurting him. 

Styx chained Virgil back up and left. After a while, Janus cleared his throat. 

“How, um… How are you feeling?” 

Virgil looked at him incredulously. “I’m great. Was thinking of taking a nap.” 

“You should.” Janus stared at the ground. Fear squeezed his chest, it was getting hard to breathe. “You need to rest. It’ll help keep your strength up.” 

“I don’t know how much of that I have left,” he mumbled. 

You’re killing him. 

Janus wracked his mind for something to say that would change his mind, and came up with nothing. They didn’t speak again that day. 

October 7th. 3:02 am. 

Janus groaned and cracked his eyes open as a pair of footsteps descended down the stairs. Something creaked and scraped, occasionally thunking. 

“What now?” Virgil almost whimpered. 

Janus frantically blinked the sleep away. Styx waved at him cheerfully and continued into the room. Something crashed— Janus’ head whipped back to the stairs, where Remus braced himself against a large dog cage. 

Janus’ heart dropped. 

“Come on, Remus, hurry up. Fuck, be careful with that, it was expensive!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

The cage grated horribly as Remus pushed it across the room. Styx pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked Virgil’s ankles. 

He snickered and ducked as Virgil kicked wildly. “YOU’RE NOT FUCKING PUTTING ME IN THERE!” 

He hissed in pain as Styx gripped his blistered ankle, arching his back. “Down, boy,” Styx laughed. “This is appropriate, don’t you think? A nice little reminder that you belong to someone now. To me, in case you forgot.” 

This is sick. Janus’ mouth was full of cotton. This is too far. You have to stop. 

Styx unlocked Virgil’s wrists and grabbed him around the waist as Virgil broke for the door. Virgil thrashed and screamed while Styx dragged him out of the way. Remus pushed the cage into the corner and opened the door. 

“DON’T!” The cage rattled as Virgil kicked it, nearly knocking Styx off balance. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE! LET ME GO!” 

Janus shrunk in on himself and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Remus, help me!” Styx snapped. 

Virgil’s protests dissolved into animalistic screams and wails. The next time Janus looked, the cage door was chained shut, Virgil crammed inside with not even space to turn around. 

Styx crouched in front of him. “This is only temporary, I promise. You can get your freedom back when you learn to be a good boy, like Janus.” He held his arms out, palms up. “Do I get a thank you?” 

Virgil glared at him, tears running down his face. Janus’ skin crawled, dread seeping through. Please don’t. 

“Thank you, master.” 

Styx’s lips curled into a grin. “Good boy.” 

He and Remus left, the door slamming behind them. Janus’ cuffs tugged as his wrists as he pressed himself against the wall. His eyes stared stubbornly out the dirt-crusted windows, refusing to look to his left, refusing to see the emptiness in Virgil’s eyes. 

After a long time, after Janus’ eyes had glazed over and Virgil’s sobbing had faded to sniffles and the occasional uncomfortable groan, he asked quietly, “Are you still there?” 

Virgil drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” 

Janus’ bottom lip wobbled. 

“Why are you crying? You’re fine. You have it way better.” 

“You’re wrong,” he whispered. 

Go on. Lie to him. Tell him it’s better to fight, that it might work, that he might get out. Encourage him to put himself through more pain so you don’t lose hope. Tell him that being forced into a cage is better than being willingly shackled. 

“We’re getting out of here.” Janus leaned his head against the wall. “I promise.” 

Kofi and commissions, 1 coffee = 300 words of your prompt

[the-crowess]

Altrovough: Adventure on Every Horizon

Chapter 1: Out of the Dark I hadn't been playing for six months. Not because it had become too expensive. Not because work became too much for me. Not because I got a significant other. Not because the community was bad or anything like that. No, I hadn't played in six months because my avatar was stuck in a trap.

            There are glitches, you see. Somehow in this modern VR experience there are still glitches. And with glitches comes assholes who use those glitches to their advantage.

            So, here's what happened to me: Me and my party went into a dungeon. We split up. Two went one way, two went the other, and I (though I protested) was by myself. Even though I had a lantern when I walked down into the hallway it was completely black. That should have been my first clue that this was a trap of some sort. My lantern still had fire, but no light was being produced from it. Being promised treasure and being a dumbass, I continued forward into the dark. After walking just far enough into the hallway to make the doorway disappear, I sprung a tile trap.

            The floor beneath me sloped downward and I fell rolling after it. Head over heels I fell until I smacked my face and passed out.

            I woke up in chains. I was propped up against a wall. My wrists above my head were on short chains, and my ankles on longer chains.

            Okay, I thought, no biggy. I'll just restart the day.

            Okay, so that didn't work. Which is weird... I'll call my party members...

            No service? What the fuck? That's not even an element in this game!

            Well, uh, okay I guess I'll just bust out of these—rusty—old—chains!

            ...

            Nope.

            After exhausting my options, then exhausting them again I logged off.

For months I kept receiving messages that players were interacting with my avatar, so I would log on, only for them to laugh at me and be utterly and completely unhelpful.

            My party visited me four separate times. And all of those times were to make fun or my misfortune, even though they knew that ANYTIME they could unlock the chains and release me. The first time it was all of them together. The captain Jockster (or Jerkstar as I call him) had squatted down in front of me and said, "this is what you get, you know. Playing this way has consequences. Thanks for taking one for the team." Then he had laughed like the drug addicted jackass he was. The others laughed with him. The second time it was only Aliciandria (our rouge) and Marlquan (our cleric). They had been discussing what to do with me when Alicandria accidentally kicked my foot and I responded, and I woke up to them talking about if they should just kill me so that they wouldn't have to worry about how people were judging them for not helping me. The third time it was just Havanio (the sorcerer). He woke me up, then sat across from me and said nothing for an hour. He just sat there like a fucking douchebag and looked at me like I was some caged beast put there for his entertainment. And the last time doesn't matter.

            Players of all kinds and from all districts would stop by only to laugh at me. I became a joke, and even more that that I became a meme! Screenshots of my avatar hanging there like a prisoner spread all over the internet. To add to my torture, a player whose avatar was a homely goblin woman would harass me constantly.

            Behind the happy smile of someone who literally baked cookies for visitors was a demented maniac. This guy—I know she is a he because he fucking DM'd me dick pics. I think he harassed me for three reasons: 1) I fell right into his trap 2) My avatar is a hot man and I think Little Miss Goblin Man is gay or more likely bi and uncomfortable with his sexuality 3) I think he thought he figured out that the gender of my avatar and the gender of myself might not be the same, and he was definitely trying to intimidate me. This asshole physically and sexually harassed my avatar, and I couldn't even report it!

            Not like I didn't try to report it—when I did the staff would send in an NPC (Non-Player Character) and see literally nothing. So, in this trap: it's a glitch mixed with a non-invasive virus; meaning the virus only effects this one spot and not the whole server or game. It can't get into your computer. It like can't get past the firewalls or something I don't really know.

            So, not only did this jack-wad figure out a way to trap me, but he also figured out how to keep his dirty deeds hidden from the staff. For almost three months I continued to check in. Two weeks after the initial incident I jumped at every UAN (Unconscious Avatar Notification) but I quickly learned that nobody wanted to help me, they all just wanted to see if the rumors were true and maybe get a picture. Eventually I stopped responding and eventually my avatar fell out of the popular meme rotation.

...

BEEP. BEEP. UAN! Someone's interacting with your character! 😊

BEEP. BEEP. UAN!! Someone's interacting with your character.

BEEP. BEEP. UAN!!! Respond you asshole! You should log on!

"Uhg! Fine!"

I left my lunch (thinking I would return to it real soon) and went to my game room to log on.

I woke to a girl poking my cheek. I snapped at her fingers.

"Oh! Fuck!" She pulled her hand away, shaking off the close call, "you're hard to wake up! Not much for answering your UAN's huh?"

Standing over me was a girl of maybe nineteen. Her clothes draped and flowed about figure in Cleric glory. Great. A fucking cleric. She wouldn't've stood out more. Dark skin with undoubtably "sea green" eyes. Her hair was done up in some completely unattainable style that was loopy with braids and pigtails sectioned into pompoms; it was a shade of maroon that says, "I'm a supporting character, but I want to think I'm a main character!"

"Is it true you've been down here six months?"

"O.O.G."

"What?"

"Out. Of. Game. I've been 'down here' six months out of game."

"Holy cow, man! That's a while."

"Did you need something?"

"Excuse me?"

I made cold eye contact with her, "Did. You. Need. Something?"

"Uh... wellllllll, I heard a rumor that there was some poor fuck stuck down here who can't get himself out."

"Oh. Fantastic." An awkward silence split between us, "well, thanks for stopping by. Take a screenshot, it'll last longer."

She stared blankly at me, "no. I think you misunderstand. I'm here to help you."

"What."

"I'm here to help you."

I couldn't think. Couldn't fathom this thing unfolding in front of me, "what?"

She began to fiddle with the chains on my wrist.

"Wait, no!"

She looked down at me the way a mom would look at her two-year-old who says he doesn't want to eat mashed potatoes because they have eyes and he doesn't want to eat mashed eyeballs.

"Wait." As my heart pounded loudly in my chest, I asked her, "what do you want from me? Like, you—you can't just want to let me go. You must want something from me."

She sat back down on her heels and looked away, her lips followed her eyes away from me and back, and she said, "Well, no. Not really. Like I said: I heard there might be some poor fuck who was trapped and couldn't get out on his own. I thought for my first adventure, I'd go get 'im." Then she went right back to messing with the chains.

I laughed and shook my head.

She stood up and put her hands on her hips, pouting. Lordy, she was cute. The puzzled look on her face gave me some hope that maybe she might actually be able to save me. With a huff she sat down again and confessed, "you're the only reason I got this game. You're a meme, a legend. You're so classic that you're practically nonexistent. Every time this game comes up in social media you're mentioned. On all the subreddits, and in the deepest parts of tumblr—you're there. I just had to come see if you were real, and I was—and still am—planning that if you were actually here that I would help you out."

"No catch?"

"No catch."

I smiled to myself, knowing now that it was I who had the advantage. I could use her. After all, every party needs a healer. Now I just had to make sure she wouldn't ditch me anytime soon. "Are you sure you don't want to try and find a catch? I was a level 52 before this whole ordeal."

She perked up, "what's your level now, cowboy?"

"35."

"What?! You're so dilapidated and all your equipment was stolen. H-HOW?"

"Cause I'm just that awesome." This should do it.

"I've changed my mind!"

Perfect.

"I want you as a bodyguard! For two years—"

"One year."

"Alright, one year." She looked like she wanted to ask me to shake on it, but then thought better of it, "can I please help you out now?"

"Yes."

Very quickly, and with very little trouble she released me from my chains. Bruises and scars tattooed my wrists and ankles. How the coding of this game works is literally so fucking far beyond me. I pulled my limbs into myself, feeling the stiff resistance of time.

"Can you get up?"

Without needing to consider it I said, "no, I don't think so. Do you have any potions that will give me a boost?"

"Oh yes! I knew that if I found you, you'd need medical help immediately, so I spent all the gold from my—"

"All your gold??? Are you stupid?"

"Whaaaa? I-I... I—just—"

"Whatever. We'll figure it out. What potions do you have?"

She nodded very curtly, and pulled up her bag contents and read them off to me: "fifteen Good Health Potions, fifteen Great Health Potions, fifteen Fantastic Health Potions, ten Boost 'Ems, seven Leaves Of Health, two Gladiator Liquid Bandages and two Beats of Life. What'll it be?"

"Gimme a Boost 'Em."

She tapped on the icon and a Boot 'Em materialized in her hand. She put it out to me, but when I grabbed for it, she pulled away. I of course made eye contact with her, thinking she was gonna pull a fast one on me. Instead she said, "Valhalla."

"What?" My immediate confusion fell away into fear. This must be a trick. But why would she do that? It doesn't make any sense. I'm clearly smarter than her. It's me that's tricking her, why would she—

"That's my name. Valhalla."

The interruption of my panicked thinking threw me off guard. That's a stupid name. Before I could tell her how stupid I thought her name was she put the Boost 'Em in my hand.

Taking the potion, I had trouble removing the cork. Valhalla silently offered her help, but I shooed her away. I grumbled something about how I was perfectly capable of doing it myself.

With much effort and significant struggling, I yanked the cork out and threw it over my shoulder. Only for it to bounce off the wall and back into my lap. With the kind of drunken vigor seen at taverns I swallowed the creamy blue liquid. The moment it touched my lips, a feeling of power hit me like caffeine in a low-calorie energy drink. Going down my throat it felt like warm milk and honey. Electrifying energy flowed outward from my middle. It snaked its way through my arms and legs. It made my fingers and toes tingle like pins and needles.

I leapt up, a new man. I knew this wouldn't last long, and I knew that later this would end up hurting me more, but fuck.

Fuck this feels good.

"Do you have any weapons?"

"Uh, yeah." Valhalla pulled up her bag again and tapped on the Equipment tab. "What do you want?"

There were certainly more weapons than should have been in her bag if she had just started, let alone had spent all her starter gold on potions. I chose to ignore this. "I'll take the mace." I reached up and engaged with the weapon. The heavy steel handle materialized in my outstretched hand. By the look on her face, it must have been the first time Valhalla had seen anyone engage. I'm glad I was able to be the one to show her, in all the glory I could muster.

"This is a pretty nasty weapon, baby." I swung it a couple of times, feeling the weight; testing the blow power.

"I picked it up because I liked the color!"

I laughed, "I guess I overlooked the purple steel, but this will do nicely."

"Nicely for what?"

"Do me a favor, doll. You see that door over there? Go knock."

"Okay, but," she came right up close to me and stuck her face in mine, "I'm not a fucking doll."

"Noted."

I followed her as she warily walked to the door of the goblin woman's kitchen. Valhalla knocked timidly on the door.

"Come in!" The goblin wench cooed, "I just baked some fresh cookies! We can pose next to the body if you want!"

I caught Valhalla frown and furrow her brows at "the body".

Oh how sweet this will taste, I thought as adrenaline pumped through my veins. I passed in front of Valhalla whispering, "stay back."

I slid through the open door. The goblin hag had her back to me, this couldn't have been planned more perfectly. I crept up behind her with my mace raised above my head and my six-foot-five shadow engulfed her. She turned around with horror, a tray of cookies in hand. Her eyes widened and she tensed as if she were to scream.

But I didn't give her a chance.

"Your actions have consequences."

I let the mace fall down upon her head. The crack of her skull resonated harmoniously with the clang of the cookie sheet on the ground. Giddy joy sprung forth from me as I smashed the mace into her again and again. The second blow shattered her ribcage. Her ribs sprang up and splintered through her tissue. Smashing her hands made her fingers pop off, they flew in all directions. A blow to her thigh created a fountain. Warm blood hit my bare chest, my exposed legs. It splattered on my face. It coated my hands. It made the mace slippery in my hands. Her blood soaked what little was left of my shorts. It sprayed the walls, the kitchy table and chairs, the coffee pot and baking ingredients. Blood decorated the cookies that now laid scattered on the floor. 

Satisfied by the pulpy mound of oozing, squirting flesh and bone I subsided. Reaching down, I tore a blood-soaked rag from her dress. Turning to the wall I wrote LEAVE.

Standing back, I let out a heavy sigh. The effects of the Boost 'Em would soon wear off. I turned around and cracked my neck. I looked over in Valhalla's direction, but over her head. "I need some new clothes." I declared.

She stared at me. Her eyes pulled mine in and her mouth morphed into a grin, "fuck. YEAH!"

"Huh??????"

"Dude she called you 'the body'. And we both know that she was the reason you were stuck down here. Plus: THAT WAS AWESOME!!! I am so glad I came to find you! Best $130 dollars I ever spent." She then ran up and hugged me. The contact made me tense up.

I shook out of her embrace, "let's get out of this dungeon."

She led the way out. It was different from the way I had come in. We walked down the hallway that I had stared at for so long, hoping that somebody, anybody would come for me. Not ten feet into the tunnel we turned a corner and there was the exit. My stomach dropped. I felt sick.

It had been so close the whole time. Learning this made me want to revive that sonofabitch just to kill her all over again.

Emerging into the sunlight hurt my eyes. I was blinded.

What a sight we must have been. Myself: six-five, soaked in blood, starved, almost naked. Her: small, sweet-looking, fresh-faced, and not a drop of blood on her.

I still couldn't really see when somebody started talking. "Hey, are you guys okay?"

"Oh, we're fine," Valhalla sang sweetly sang sweetly next to me. At that very moment, I lost all my energy. My health bar plummeted, and sirens rang through my headset. My vison flashed red. I fell to the ground.

The group that had approached watched, alarmed. Valhalla looked like she wanted to eat her words.

Stupid girl. She had no idea what to do.

I had fifteen seconds before I'd die. This had happened once before when my former party and I had just started the game. We got attacked by a level 20 dragon and one strike had me seeing red.

10 seconds.

They were bickering about the best course of action. They had no idea I was on the brink of death. Valhalla stared at me looking like a lost idiot.

The sky began to spin. Valhalla's blurry silhouette swayed above me.

Did she forget about all that stuff she bought? How many gaming hours did she log before she came to find me? Did she even go on the tutorial adventure? I mean, you can technically skip it, but—

"BEAT." I coughed out then my head lolled.

The party erupted into tense panic.

5 seconds.

Oh please, please Valhalla. Please don't let me die. After all, you told me you came to save me. So save me!

Just as if she could hear my internal pleas, a beat was shoved in my mouth and my jaw forced upward from the outside to crush it. The juicy tuber gushed in my mouth. I felt Valhalla's hand on my lips, pressing down to keep everything in. I'd heard rumors of the experience of Beat of Life. Some players said they almost wish their party members would have let them die. The juice was hot, potent, and sour. So sour is made my jaw ache. It felt like someone was twisting a wheel, making my jaw tighter and tighter. My teeth felt like they were going to pop out of their gums. It burned my throat, made my eyes water and my nose run. My stomach did not want to accept it. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn't move. Hot flashes waved through my body. An ocean of churning heat pushed and pulled at my organs, my brain. I could feel myself sweating. Growing hotter by the moment. My head swam. My limbs grew numb. I passed out.

I was saved. Unconscious, but saved.

But Valhalla didn't know that. Stupid girl, skipping the tutorial. What was she thinking? Guess I'd have to ask her when I woke up.

And so I took off my headset and it was dusk.

[wordsfromthesol]

Out of Place (4/6)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: Meeting Dick, and the rest of the batboys.  You’re confused, since you are nowhere near Bludhaven or Gotham. Some tragedies, some battles, etc. Happy ending because I’m a sap. Warnings: Language, blood and torture and other injuries Word Count: 1.2k A/N: Second part! I’m almost finished with the story and hope to post the rest soon.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 5   Part 6

The two slumped onto the couch and waited, trying to wrap their minds around what happened. Analyzing Cheshire’s words.

A few hours later Tim walked into the apartment. “You two want to tell me where I am? And why I’m here?”

The two boys filled their younger brother in on everything that happened over the past year.

“Wait, that’s why you two sneak off all the time. To come here? Man, she’s really got some deep hooks to snag you both.”

Dick glanced towards Jason, though he did like to torment his brother. Now was simply not the time. “Yeah, well, she is a good friend and let’s me get away from dad…plus, have you seen her?” Okay, maybe a little teasing.

Dick glared at him. Jason knew that stare all to well.

“Right, well here’s what I’ve found. Her dad. That’s the only one important enough in her family to warrant this. Even I can’t figure out exactly what he does for the government. They are either using her to get to him, or he has given her some valuable information.” Tim continued to explain everything he could find out about her family. “Wait, neither of you two knew her dad?”

“She just always waved it off, saying he’s a boring government official. He lives pretty far away, so we’ve never met him either.” Dick’s voice was shaking as he realized how little he actually knew about her family, even though she always claimed to be close with them.

“I’ll find her Dick, give me some time…and some coffee.”

Two days later, Tim walked into the bedroom. “Dick, I’ve got something.”

Meanwhile…

You woke up, god know where, chained to a chair. Great. What have the boys gotten me into now.

“HEY! The brat’s awake!”

You tried to be your normal snarky self, but quickly realized they had gagged you. Your eyes widened as you watched Ra’s al Ghul walk into the room. The boys had showed his picture countless times. Hell, it had been pinned on your living room wall for weeks until the boys dropped the case.

“Oh good. Time to get some information.”

You had no idea how much time had gone by. You had passed out multiple times due to the pain. Even if you knew what they wanted, you wouldn’t have given it to them anyways. Finally, it seems some minor reprieve had been given. You surveyed your body, at least the pieces you could see. There were more cuts and bruises than you’ve probably had in your 24 years on this planet.

“Sorry to stop the fun. I’m afraid if I continue, I may not get my information before you die. Can’t have that can we…”

You watched him lay the instruments of torture on a table and ushered for someone standing in the shadows to come near. She began to stitch you up, but you soon passed out once again from the pain. You awoke to a knife dragging down your leg. Fuck. You controlled the scream.

“Look, you have been at this for days. Slicing me up, just to stitch me back up. Some of the first day of torture wounds still aren’t healed. If I knew what you wanted, don’t you think I would’ve given it to you?”

“Maybe…or maybe you’re just as stubborn as those birdies you are so fond of. Though it has occurred to me, that maybe you don’t even know you have what we are looking for.”

“Great, so let me pull that information out of my ass.” Then everything went black. Guess the demon didn’t like sarcasm. You awoke to someone’s hand sliding over your leg. You’d rather not see the new torturer, “Since when did we go to the gentle approach boys. That didn’t even rip the stitches…” Eyes still closed, you smirked as your mind wandered to your boys.

“Y/N? HOOD! RED ROBIN! SHE’S HERE!” You still hadn’t responded. “Y/N? Please.”

Refusing to open your eyes, you knew this was another trick. It had to be. “What? The physical torture isn’t enough? Now it’s time for mind games too? I still don’t even know what you want! How can I give you something I don’t have!”

“Y/N/N, Y/N, please. Open your eyes. Just open them. You’ll see. I’m here, me and Jay both. Your boys are here. We even brought our baby brother.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Shut it, replacement. This isn’t about you.” Jason knelled on the other side of you and started working on the chains. You still hadn’t summoned the courage to open your eyes. After all, this had to be a trick. They tried getting in your mind once before, but you knew. This time…this time, felt so real.

“Touching moment really guys, but we have company. Hood, I’m going to need you here.”

Dick finished unlocking the chains and cupped your face in his hands. “Please, Y/N. I thought I lost you. I can’t lose you.” His lips smashed against yours. Your eyes sprung open, well as best they could from all the surrounding bruises.  

“Dick, is it really you?” Jason slid across the floor landing near your chair.

“Hey, Y/N/N.”

“Jay?”

“Yeah, look…this is great and all. But we are getting are asses handed to us.”

“Right, okay. Dick go help, I’m okay. What’s the plan?” An unfamiliar voice answered.

“We got charges ready to blow, don’t need to beat them. Just get past the right point.”

As the three vigilantes kept the leaguers at bay, you finished picking the locks to your ankle chains. Honestly, you weren’t okay. But you couldn’t let them know that, you couldn’t cloud their minds now. You hadn’t stood in days, but you summoned all the energy you had left and lifted yourself from the chair. “I’m free,” you called out, “where to?” The unfamiliar costumed man pointed at a small opening in the wall. At least it was narrow enough that you could hold onto the walls for support. Though you didn’t know if your arms would be useful either. You headed for the opening.

“Wait, Y/N! Me first, we don’t know what’s on the other side!” Jason ran over to you. Finally looking at you. “Y/N…god. How are you even standing?”

“Hood, go.” That was all you could muster out. You’re breathing getting shallower by the second. You followed Jason through the corridor, Dick, and their brother following closely behind. You heard blasts coming from where you had just been, and the sounds were making your head spin worse. Finally, you all emerged. Shit. You fell to the ground. Dick quickly spun around and caught you.

“We need another plan. She can’t walk to the escape route.”

“Fuck.” Jason whispered. They had you three days. Three days and you were clinging to life.

“Don’t worry, I had a plan B.” Tim smirks as a jet comes into view and lands just as a hoard of leaguers come running towards them. Batman and Robin, in turn, run to meet the leaguers. “Get her in the jet, NOW!” Red Robin and Red Hood bounded towards the oncoming assault.

Dick races towards the jet and places her inside. “Y/N. I can’t lose you. Fight. Fight for me in here,” Dick taps her chest, “I’m going to fight for you out there.” He races to join his brothers in the fight.

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

in too deep (part 3)- jules

jules x reader

warnings: language, anxiety, creepiness, some violence, homophobia, overall just weird vibes (if you’ve seen the movie you know what i’m talking about)

TW: MENTIONS OF NON-CON (please don’t read if you’re triggered by this!! this was the bit of the story i had to change for the story to make sense since i swapped mickey’s gender. it doesn’t actually happen, but if the threat triggers you, do NOT READ!!!)

notes: i’m gonna try and keep this one shorter bc writing long chapters stresses me out

also! i’m writing this based on a pdf of the original script for the movie, so some dialogue may be different, or it may be my own creation because believe it or not, there are times that i do in fact possess creativity!!

you woke up with a jolt, dreams of the strangest variety plaguing your subconscious. you reached up to touch your pounding head- well, at least you would’ve if it wasn’t restrained. 

  “what the hell?” you tugged on the handcuffs, quickly realizing your legs were tied down, too, rendering you completely immobile. upon discovering this, you began to panic, breaking out in a cold sweat as you called out for your security blanket. “jules! jules!” 

  “she’s not gonna hear you. she’s down in the basement with sweetiepie.” gloria said calmly as she entered the room. 

not impressed with her answer, you questioned her. “what are you gonna do to her?” 

  “my, my. you asked about her safety before even questioning yours! the bond the two of you share must be stronger than i thought.” she mused, looking down at your panicked expression. “your belle is safe and sound, don’t worry. but if you want to see her again, you’re going to have to cooperate.”

  “cooperate? what the fuck are you gonna do to me?” you wrenched at your restraints, your heart rate beginning to pick up sufficiently. you depended on jules more than any other person in your life, and without her, you began to quickly unravel. 

  “just sit tight, all will be revealed soon enough.” gloria stated with an eerie smile. you hated how calm she was, it made you feel like she knew something you didn’t. “would you like to see some photos of my son?”

was she serious? look at some photos of her son? all you wanted was their car! how did you end up in this mess? the sudden aggravation caused you to lose your composure. 

  “no, i don’t wanna see any pictures of your fucking son! i wanna get my girlfriend and that fucking kid and get the fuck out of here!” you screamed. “i wanna get the fuck away from you and your crazy ass husband! i wa-” your sudden outburst was cut off by a firm slap, giving you little time to react before gloria had you in a chokehold.

  “you keep your damn mouth shut! you won’t refer to anyone in this family like that under my roof!” you spat in her face, taking in a wheezing breath as she let go of you to wipe her face. her sudden anger morphed into what you assumed was her signature brand of unnerving calmness. 

  “you wanted to know what i’m going to do to you? i’ll tell you.” she smiled creepily. “you see, george and i have wanted our own children for the longest time, but that’s just not what the good lord had planned for us. so think of yourself as a vessel for us. an oven for our bun, if you will.”

your jaw dropped, the color in your face draining as your eyes widened in shock. “fuck! what the fuck? that’s so fucking fucked up! you’re not gonna fucking touch me, you bitch!” you couldn’t catch your breath, your chest heaving with every intake of air. 

gloria got up to leave, her long skirt spinning with a flourish as she made her way to the bedroom door. “d-don’t f-fucking leave,” you wheezed as she exited the room, slamming the door behind her.

  “jules!” you shouted. “jules, please fucking help me,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes in defeat.

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

time ticked by slowly, your arms and shoulders starting to ache as they were held in the same position. you tried to reposition them to get some relief, but none came. 

suddenly, you heard the door click open, your eyes flitting up hopefully. gloria entered with a grin on her painted lips, making her way towards you. 

while you were in the room by yourself, you had used the time wisely to come up with what would hopefully be a successful escape plan. you looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes. “gloria, can we talk?” 

  “absolutely. what’s on your mind?” it was creepy how quickly she seemed to get over your defiance from earlier, but you pushed the thought from your mind. 

  “well, honestly, your proposal.” you began. “i know how i acted the other day was totally uncalled for, and i’ve reconsidered.”

  “well, you didn’t really have much of a choice, sweetheart, but i’m glad you feel that way.” she stroked a hand over your stomach, making you feel physically sick. “is there anything else?”

  “yeah, there is. can we start now? i wanna start these happy nine months as soon as i can.” you faked a smile, the words coming out of your mouth churning your insides. 

  “well yes, i guess that could be arranged,” she moved to get up and you panicked, your plan quickly setting out of motion. 

  “wait!” you exclaimed. “can you uncuff me? i don’t think it would really be enjoyable if i was tied down like i am now.”

she looked skeptical, but sat down next to you anyways. “give me one good reason you wouldn’t be trying to escape as soon as i untied you.”

  “well, i’ve had a change of heart.” no i haven’t. “i’ve considered it, and i think you’re right.” no you’re not. “i think this experience would be really beneficial to me,” no it wouldn’t. “especially if i wasn’t chained to the bed the whole time.” definitely not.

  “it seems that you’ve really put some thought into this, i’m very proud of you.” gloria crooned. she sat on the side of the mattress, working on uncuffing your hands from the bedposts. as soon as both your hands were free, you took a tight grip of her hair and used your body weight to launch her off of you and onto the floor. she cried out, clutching her head as you worked at the ropes around your ankles. 

  “you psycho fucking bitch!” you cursed at her. “i’m getting my girlfriend and that fucking kid and we’re getting the fuck out of here!” once your legs were finally free, you took off, running down the stairs as the damsel called out for her husband. 

you raced towards the door, prying at the handle, when a gunshot goes off right next to your head. you jumped in fear, raising your hands in defense to see george at the top of the staircase, wielding your pistol. 

  “exactly what in the hell do you think you’re doing? get your ass up here!” he shouted, waving the weapon threateningly. when you stood frozen in your tracks, he spoke again. “i’m a crack shot, kid. i missed you on purpose that time. now get on up here.” 

you grudgingly headed up the stairs, keeping your wide eyes facing straight ahead. you heard gloria sobbing in the other room, sounding as distraught as ever, and you knew you were in for it. “who the hell raised you like that? you of all people making a woman cry like that.”

  “i’d blow your brains out if i thought you had any,” george sighed. “well, i’ll tell you one thing; you’re a bit too spry for my liking.” 

suddenly, he pulled the trigger, and the bullet ripped through the meat of your thigh. you screamed in agony, clutching the wound as you cried out. “fuck! what the fuck? you just fucking shot me!”

he acted like it was nothing, simply tossing a towel at you to stop the bleeding. “quit your whinin’, ya sally. we’ll get you bandaged up.”

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

  “don’t make me put another bullet in ‘ya. just behave, goddammit!” george growled as he dragged you down the basement stairs. through your hazy vision, you were able to make out jules handcuffed to a pole not too far away from the girl. he drops you to the floor, yanking your hands behind your back and cuffing them next to jules’. 

  “y/n!” jules called out, a happy yet worried smile making its way onto her lips. her gaze landed on your leg, her eyes widening when she saw the bloody wrappings. “oh my god! you motherfucker, what did you do to her?”

  “what are you blind? i shot her.” george stated matter-of-factly. “now you two keep quiet down here. keep an eye on ‘em, sweetiepie.” he looked over to the girl before heading upstairs.

  “fuck, i’m so happy you’re alive, baby! i heard those gunshots go off and i was so scared i was gonna lose you! are you okay?” jules blurted out, trying to turn towards you. 

  “it hurts so fucking bad, but i’m okay.” you panted, breathing labored. you wriggled your arms, pulling on the cuffs frustratingly. 

  “can you pick it?” jules asks hopefully. your heavy eyes darted around the basement, searching for something in arm’s reach small enough to fit in the keyhole. 

  “i don’t have anything to pick it with.” you huffed, leaning your head back against the pole as tears of frustration brimmed your eyes. “shit!”

you peeled your eyes open to look around the room once more, eyes landing on sweetiepie as she stared back at you in fascination. you had had enough of this little girl; she was the reason you were in this whole mess. if she just would’ve fucking cooperated, the three of you could be outta here and on the route to florida. “oh, i’m so glad you’re here, i didn’t get the chance to say fuck you!”

jules nudged you with her elbow, as if to discourage you from swearing at the child. “leave her alone, she feels bad. she didn’t know what she was doing.”

  “how the hell do you know? she talked?” you asked in confusion at her statement. 

  “i don’t know, i just do.” jules shrugged. sweetiepie had resumed playing with her toys once more, the little princess dolly riding away on the heroic stallion’s back. you sighed at the seemingly hopeless situation, letting your eyes fall shut. 

this was gonna be a long night. 

***************************

okay so an itty bitty change of plans: if this ended where it was originally supposed to, it would be really long and kinda unsatisfying (to me at least), so i’m splitting this into two chapters. 

which means that instead of a 5-part series, this will be 6 parts! it just makes more sense to me that way. 

anyway, i hope you guys enjoy!! i really had fun writing this part!

tags: @emmyrosee​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​​ @willyourecognisemee​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass​

[lurafita]

Peter/Avengers, dub/con, captivity, Part 4

TAGGING PEOPLE STILL ISN’T WORKING!

Support couldn’t give me an answer to my problem. Though they said they would send me a link with a tool kinda thing, that I would have to install, and maybe that might help, then. Havn’t gotten it yet, but they said it might take a few days to get the file packed, or something. I have no clue about these things. Wish I had a Tony Stark in real life I could go bother with this.

Anyway, I would like to ask everyone to reblog this post, if you don’t mind, so that hopefully everyone who asked to be tagged for future parts will be able to find this. Thanks!

Read previous parts here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Once again, heed the tags below the cut.

kidnapping, dub/con, captivity, chains, bondage, obsessive Avengers, Peter/Everyone, darkly soft Avengers (in the sense that they hold Peter captive, but only want to love and protect him), non-powered Peter, dark-ish Avengers, 18+ Peter, Clint is not married and has no kids, Tony is not in a relationship with Pepper.

Part 4

Setting things up was almost too easy.

The Avengers floors in the tower were spread over four stories.

One floor made up an intricate and wide indoor training gym, with special equipment. The one above that was dedicated to lab work, and had all the instruments any scientists heart could ever desire.

Then came the common floor, which was by far, the biggest.

In the beginning, Tony had set it up so that every Avenger would have their own, private floor.

But everyone had quickly migrated to the completely functional guest rooms (that all came with en-suite bathrooms) on the common floor. There was more than enough room for everyone, and the team mates liked being close to each other, while still having some privacy in their own rooms.

Peter's room, of course, had also always been on the common floor.

The parameters for Friday's new protocol were easy to code into her mainframe. As was the math to calculate the length of the chain, and the best place to anchor it to, so that Peter would still be able to roam the whole of the common floor freely, but unable to reach the elevator.

Tony and Bruce would, of course, take Peter to their labs with them, if he wished for it. A fitting chain would be placed there as well. Things were a bit different for the gym. They suspected that Peter would want to keep up his ballet practices with Natasha (once he got used to his new circumstances a bit, they had no delusions that the first few days would be difficult for everyone). However, he clearly couldn't be chained down for those. So there would be no chains there.

And really, the chains weren't actually necessary. With Friday's updated protocols, which disallowed Peter the use of the elevators (which were the only way to access the Avenger floors), unless one of the Avengers was with him, or in case of an immediate emergency; as well as the fact that each and every one of them would be able to easily restrain Peter if it came to it, there was honestly no need to put a shackle on the younger man.

Thinking back, Tony didn't even know who had suggested it in the first place, but once the image was there...

They wanted it.

They wanted the visible, physical, undeniable proof, that Peter wouldn't leave them.

Couldn't leave them.

They wanted to be able to touch the chain, run their hands over the links, hear the sound it would make every time the brunette moved.

Tony took great pleasure in making it. He was not going to allow some crude, mass manufactured, heavy dark chain to touch his Sweetheart's soft skin. No. The chain he was making was a gold aluminum alloy, just like his armor. Strong, but light, and a glittering gold and red color. The cuff that would rest around Peter's ankle was padded with the softest material Tony could find, ensuring that neither the delicate skin, nor bones would get damaged from wearing it over a long period of time.

Feeling inspired, the billionaire also made some handcuffs out of the same metal and soft padding, as well as some other things that almost had him come in his pants, from simply imagining using them on Peter. Not right away, of course, he didn't want to spook his Sweetheart. But once things had progressed a little, when Peter had learned to accept (and maybe reciprocate) their love, these things would be there, and Tony and the others would use them to make his Sweetheart feel more pleasure than he ever had before.

When Peter graduated from University, Tony had finished making all the restraints they would need (and want). To celebrate Peter's graduation, Tony invited everyone (the team, Peter's aunt, and his two friends) to the most expensive restaurant in the city. Between the lighthearted teasing and sincere praise of everyone, Peter was blushing the whole evening.

Such a pretty little thing.

During the next days, as his departure to Australia drew ever nearer, Peter was a bundle of nervous energy. Fretting about preparations for his trip, getting everything in order, trying to spend time with Ned and MJ, his aunt and the Avengers, before he wouldn't see them for quite a while.

The day before his plane would depart, just as they had planned, the Avengers again invited everyone out, this time to a fancy, discreet place that served brunch. The food was good and everyone had a great time. At the end, Ned, Michelle and May Parker thanked the Avengers for the invitation, and then all hugged Peter tightly (May with tears in her eyes) and wished him all the luck in the world on his trip.

Peter likewise had to wipe some moisture out of his eyes after the heartfelt goodbyes.

Back at the tower, Bruce started the final stage of their plan.

“Peter? Professor Stoddard gave you a list of all the recommended shots for Australia, right?”

The younger man grinned. “Yep. Got them all covered. On a side note, I really hate needles.”

The admission got a small chuckle out of everyone, as well as a little smile from Bruce.

“Well, if you can grit your teeth through one more, I have mixed up something in the lab that will help your body to better adapt to the Australian climate.”

Peter gave him a look between surprised and moved.

“Aw, thank you, Bruce. You really didn't have to.”

But the doctor shook his head, and placed an arm around the slightly smaller man, guiding him to the elevator, the dark, knowing eyes of the other Avengers on their backs.

“Nonsense. I think we all would feel a lot better, knowing that you are less likely to collapse from heatstroke the minute you get off the plane. Come. It's in my lab.”

Ten minutes later, the elevator doors opened back up, showing Bruce carrying an unconscious Peter in his arms.

Steve stepped forward immediately, offering to take Peter from him.

“You made sure the sedative isn't harmful?”

Bruce would take offense, but he knew that the super soldier was simply worried and anxious for their precious one.

“I've tested it multiple times. He will sleep soundly for approximately the next nine hours.”

With Peter carefully cradled in his arms, Steve led the small procession to the younger man's room, where he laid him gently into his bed.

Natasha came forward and lovingly carded her fingers through the always messy, brown curls, swiping away a stray lock from his eyes. Clint was already in the process of removing the sleeping man's shoes, and Bucky, with sure but soft hands, opened Peter's jeans and tenderly stripped them off.

Sam was collecting the younger man's tablet, phone and laptop. They would be kept secure and out of Peter's reach, until they could be sure that their love wouldn't try to contact anyone about his captivity.

Tony and Thor entered the room then, carrying the long, gold and red chain between them.

Clint huffed at the sight. “I'm still not happy that my Darling will be wearing your color scheme all the time.”

Tony just smirked at him. “What did you want me to paint the chain with? Purple? No chance.”

Then he took the cuff that was linked to the chain, and approached the bed. He sat down at Peter's naked feet (Bucky had quickly traded the jeans for a soft pair of pajama bottoms, not wanting his Doll to get cold during the night, in only his boxers)

Tony took a moment to just admire the sleeping form of the man that held all their hearts in his hands. He looked so peaceful. He moved his hand to the ankle that laid against his thigh. Such soft skin. He stroked over it lightly. So delicate. He could wrap his whole hand around the appendage without problem.

“We were right. Peter isn't made for the jungle. It would be too rough on him. We can't let him go. He needs us.”

He didn't need to look up to see the agreement in the others eyes, and without further delay, he closed the cuff around the pale flesh.

“The chain will have to come off for changing clothes and taking baths, so there is a fingerprint scanner here” He pointed it out for the others “programmed to recognize our thumb prints. You need to press your thumb to it for five seconds, before it comes off, so there should be no accidental release. We will all need to watch our steps from now on, so that we don't trip over the chain.”

Everyone nodded.

Steve spoke next.

“Remember that Peter won't be too happy with us during the next few days. Maybe longer. He won't understand this, and he will like it even less. The first week will likely be the most frustrating for all of us, but I won't tolerate anyone taking it out on him.”

He was met with scowls.

“No one here would ever hurt him.” Sam had crossed his arms over his chest.

“It will take time, but Lastashka will come around.” Natasha continued to stroke his hair.

“Patience and love. Just like we talked about. He will accept it, one day.” Bucky's voice was confident and steady.

“It is rare that all of us are needed for a mission, so there is always going to be at least one of us here with him. This should help him to get used to it.” Bruce added.

“I will have to attend matters at Asgard occasionally, but I doubt it will take more than a day at a time. It is important that we show him that we will always be there for him, and take care of his needs.”

Tony stroked over the padded shackle once more, before standing up and covering the still unconscious Peter with the warm blanket.

“Friday, initiate Protocol: Caged Bird.”

_

The first few days were difficult, but it was nothing they hadn’t expected.

Peter was mostly confused. He didn’t understand why his friends were doing what they were doing. He didn’t understand that their feelings for him exceeded friendship by a mile. He didn’t understand that keeping him locked up, was for his own good.

He tried reasoning with them, tried convincing them that nothing would happen to him in Australia, or any other expedition he might take part in in the future. (He was very upset about having missed his flight. At the sight of tears gathering in his eyes, Steve had climbed into bed with him and cuddled the unwilling college graduate for about an hour)

After that Peter had got it in his head that the team had been hypnotized or otherwise manipulated by some kind of villain. (”This isn’t right. You know it isn’t. Someone is making you act this way. You have to fight this.”) But, of course, it was to no avail.

They had expected him to be angry at them, to scream and curse and wish them to hell (though he never did). And while he was clearly very unhappy about the situation, it wasn’t his anger that cut into the Avengers. It was his sadness.

The team did their best to help Peter through the ordeal, help him get used to things. Affectionate touches were freely given and numerous, no matter how reluctantly they were received.

They were vigilant about not giving him time or opportunity to get lost in negative emotions. Took care that he always ate and drank enough, would change the shackle from one ankle to the other every day, and then spent a few minutes to massage the joint, to ward off any discomfort.

Due to the shackle and chain needing to be taken off, in order for Peter to change his bottoms, or shower, someone was always in the room with him during that time. The lack of privacy and his own shyness about the others seeing him naked like this, was possibly the most challenging hurdle for Peter to overcome.

It took two weeks, for Peter to stop flinching away from their touches, and then another four days until he didn’t automatically stiffen any more, when one of them hugged him. His pleas to be let go tapered off after roughly the first month into his captivity.

When Clint actually managed to make Peter laugh one day, things changed again.

With the younger man’s slowly growing acceptance of his non-negotiable presence in the tower, the team grew bolder in their displays of affection.

Lips soon found their way onto the soft skin, hands alone no longer enough. Necklines were pulled lower, exposing more of the delicate neck and shoulder bones, then covering the light skin in love bites and hickeys.

Shirts were rolled up to gain access to stomach and chest. to stroke and caress, to lick and kiss. Soft tickles to the sides of  the sensitive belly, light pinches and bites to the pink nipples.

Hands found their ways under the soft pants and boxers Peter wore, squeezing his buttocks, fingers ghosting over the rim, stroking up and down the length of his penis.

The younger man would tell them to stop, tried to shove them away, or wriggle out of their grasps, at first, but he was never successful. It was like a switch had been pulled in the Avengers heads. Knowing that Peter couldn’t get away from them, couldn’t run, couldn’t leave, allowed them more and more freedom to express their love.

They wanted to kiss him. Caress him. Feel him. Taste him. They wanted to make him feel good. Make him experience all the pleasure they could. Wanted to hear him moan, and gasp, and writher. They wanted to hear their name on his lips when he came. And then they wanted to do it all over again.

Peter discovered that, despite the chain that already shackled him to their home, the Avengers liked to restrain him even further, whenever things got more intimate.

Bucky and Steve both liked to use their superhuman strength. Steve would gather the thin wrists in one of his big hands, and hold them to whatever surface Peter happened to be on, before descending on the slighter body.

Bucky was the same, just that he exclusively used his metal arm to trap Peter’s hands with, so that his flesh one would be able to feel the others skin beneath him.

Sam and Clint almost always used the padded handcuffs that Tony had made, to bind Peter’s arms behind his back. Sam liked for Peter to straddle him like this, while he played with his body. Clint preferred to lay the younger man down on the closest soft surface, be that the couch in the living room, or whoever’s bed was nearest, and have his wicked way with him.

Natasha usually took Peter to her bedroom, where she used silk shawls and other soft ties to secure him to her bed. (”Tying someone down can have two implications, Lastashka. The most obvious one is that it makes you unable to resist and gives me complete control. The other reason is that it’s not about reciprocation. Being bound forces you to accept the pleasure that I give you, to let me take care of you, let me make you feel good and worship your body like it should be worshiped. If you wonder which one of those implications comes into play here, it’s actually both. I like being in control, Peter, but I also like making you feel good. Just let me love you.”)

Most surprising was probably Bruce’s fondness for Japanese bondage. The older scientist loved to put Peter in elaborate and complicated bindings (with special ropes that wouldn’t burn or shave at the delicate skin, of course). He would patiently and carefully wrestle the younger man into compliance, and then skillfully tie him up. The only reason the bondage never included a gag, Peter came to realize, was that Bruce would stop his work every few minutes, to kiss him tenderly on the lips, the cheeks, and his forehead. Sometimes they didn’t even have sex when Bruce tied him up, though the man always made Peter come.

Thor was probably the odd one out, as he didn’t have a specific method he used to restrain his lover. Sometimes he would use a soft rope, other times he closed the padded handcuffs around Peter’s wrists, and other times still the god of thunder would simply clamp his own, big hands around the slim body and manhandle him however he wanted to. One day Thor had stripped his love, pinned him down on his bed with one hand, and with the other, carefully, hesitantly, but full of anticipation, laid his hammer onto the youngers chest. Mjölnir wasn’t heavy in the sense that it crushed Peter, but it was completely impossible for the younger man to move out from under it. All he could do was claw at the bedding and move his legs to the almost overwhelming pleasure, as the Asgardian took him again and again.

Tony, even though he had been the one to design and make the handcuffs and various other restrains the team used on Peter, would usually direct one or more of the empty Iron Man armors to hold his Sweetheart in position. He loved watching as Peter ineffectually writhed against the unyielding hold of something he had created, while he kneeled before his captive, using the skill learned from years of being New York’s number one playboy, to suck him off. He always made Peter orgasm once, before he entered him. It was such a heady feeling, such a turn on, to see Peter experience a second release, while the billionaire himself was buried deep inside his warmth.

They made sure not to overwhelm Peter too much. He couldn’t be taken by everyone, everyday. And really, no one had a problem with this. After all, it wasn’t purely about sex. They loved Peter, and they loved making love to Peter, but fucking for hours on end was not the only way that physical attraction and devotion could be expressed.

Cuddling during movie nights, or taking a bath together, having him sit between their legs and leaning back into their chest while he was reading a book, were all things that were high on everyone’s list for making Peter feel special and loved.

Whenever it wasn’t Steve himself to share this kind of intimacy with his Honey, he liked to draw the scene before him. His sketchbook was full of pages upon pages of Peter being cherished by one of his team mates. (He always drew the chain, and sometimes the handcuffs, as well. The different restraints had become as much of a symbol for their love, as everything else had)

Three and a half months into Peter’s captivity, everyone was gathered in the living room, watching a movie. Peter was lying with his head in Natasha’s lap, the former Assassin lovingly stroking her hand through his hair. His legs were laid over Sam’s lap, with the man softly kneading his calves. The rest of the Avengers had spread out over the other couches and chairs in the room, basking in the peaceful atmosphere that knowing Peter was close by, always brought to them.

“Do you hate us?”

Natasha’s quiet question cut through the room like a knife, and Peter could see every one of the Avengers stiffen, as they waited for him to answer. He inhaled deeply.

“...No. I don’t hate you. I don’t like being locked up, I’m not always too happy about all the restraints, I miss being able to run around outside, jump from building to building, or just take a walk. I still don’t understand why you are doing all this,... But I don’t hate you.”

They all slumped a little in relief, Sam affectionately squeezed the ankle without the shackle, and Natasha continued to stroke through Peter’s hair.

“No more parkour for you, Doll. It’s too dangerous.” Came Bucky’s rumble to the brunettes right, and he could see the others nod their heads in agreement to this. He sighed.

“But we can talk about a few outings in the future.”

Natasha and Sam kept him from sitting up, but Peter still looked at Tony with wide, excited eyes.

“Really?”

The billionaire nodded. “If you agree to wearing a tracker, maybe an anklet. And at least one of us has to be with you. Possibly a few more rules that we will decide on then. But yes, really.”

Seeing the reluctant agreement to that in everyone’s eyes, Peter smiled widely. It wouldn’t happen in the next few days, he knew. Maybe not even for another month or more. But he would get to go outside again.

One day.

______________________________________________________________

That’s it folks.

As you can probably tell, I’m not very good with writing smut. (In fact, I didn’t really, explicitely, write any... sorry)

Which is why, if anyone is interested / wants to do it, I would not at all be opposed if someone wrote additional parts to this story.

The only thing I ask, is that you keep things nice. No degradation, humiliation or pain play, please. (Pain play would include things like spanking and orgasm denial. Orgasm delay is fine, but outright denial can not only be considerably painful, but might also have real, physical consequences.)

I don’t mean any offense if those are some of your personal kinks or likes, but I myself don’t enjoy those very much (or at all), and I don’t think they would fit into the mind frame of the story, or the Avengers.

[daydream-hobii]

Shadows & Wolfsbane | Chapter 16

Genre: Poly!AU; Werewolf!AU; Shapeshifter!AU; Fluff; Angst

Pairing: BTS x Female!Reader; Alpha!Reader, Beta!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Alpha!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Beta!Jungkook

Summary: Y/N is the youngest Alpha in her compound, owning a whole village. She was born by two Omegas, and originally wanted to be killed, but things were changing in her universe. At the end of the year, each Alpha can pick up to 30 new warriors, wolves that have been training, and the youngest always starts. Y/N never really chooses, asks for the ones who were unwanted such as the old or disabled. This time, she picks the strongest seven players among the warriors, and the other Alphas aren’t too happy, but she chose them for other reasons…. Hopefully, they’ll help her with the predicament she’s found herself in….

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Sexual Assault, Depression, Anxiety; Suggestions of Smut; Read with caution <3 MENTIONS OF TORTURE, BLOOD, DEATH, AND OTHER VARIOUS TOPICS, READ WITH CAUTION!!!

Word Count: 1,668

// Previous // Next //

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chapter 16! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I love getting feedback! I hope you enjoyed it!!! ^_^

       I took the lead, walking into the hall. Jungkook and Jimin followed me while Taehyung held Seokjin and helped him walk. I could smell Namjoon close, Jungkook lifting his nose and smelling the same. We turned a corner, no guards in sight. The closer we got to Namjoon, the more metallic smell that filled my nostrils.

       This new part of the dungeon was cold, blood splattering the walls. My nerves shot through the roof the closer we got. Just before we turned a corner, Jungkook shot off, going out of view. None of us said a word, just went wide eyed, following him as close as we could. When we reached an open door, my heart sank.

       Namjoon was in the middle of the room, the only clothing on him his boxers. He was on his knees, arms stretched out by chains that connected to the walls. He had open wounds all across his chest and back, some still bleeding, like he’d been wiped. He looked exhausted and couldn’t lift his head, but his face was just as bad. Both eyes were black, one of them swollen shut. His lips and cheeks were puffy.

       Jungkook had his arms around him, tears streaming down his face. He had a delicate touch, but Namjoon still groaned. Taehyung was the one to walk in, taking the chains off his wrists and watching his body slump.

       “Namjoon,” I whispered, watching him carefully hold his head up, giving a small smile before letting it drop again.

       Jungkook picked him up, Namjoon fitting perfectly in his arms. You wouldn’t expect Namjoon to be higher ranked than Jungkook.

       “You all need to leave,” I warned, making Jungkook growl at me.

       “No,” He warned.

       “I’m not giving you an option,” I replied, staring hard. “Seokjin and Namjoon are hurt, badly. I want you to take them back to Dex, go back through to the base.”

       “I’m not leaving you here!” Jungkook yelled, making me stare hard.

       “You have to,” I said. “I’ll get Hoseok and Yoongi. You guys go, be safe.”

       “I’ll go with you,” Taehyung said, handing Seokjin to Jimin. “You all go. Don’t worry.”

       “Tae,” I said, but he shook his head.

       “I’m okay. Jungkook can carry Namjoon, I’ll help you with Yoongi and Hoseok,” Taehyung said with a boxy smile. “Plus, if they’re hurt as bad as Joonie, you’ll need help carrying them.”

       Taehyung had a point. We were wasting time here arguing, so I just agreed with him. We all split ways and I trusted Jungkook could find his way out of here. Taehyung and I went deeper into the maze of rooms, taking out a couple more guards.

       There was a soft crying coming from a room, making us pause and listen. It sounds soft, but painful. We sprinted towards it, kicking down a door and into the room. Yoongi was laying on a wooden table, wrists and ankles tied with rope, boxers his only attire. He didn’t look nearly as bad as Namjoon, but worse than the others. One eye was swollen shut, dried blood around his mouth as if he’d gotten punched. He had large bite and scratch wounds all over himself, making us gulp.

       I quickly walked over, untying all his limbs. He carefully sat up, bringing me into him arms and sighing in relief, hot tears staining his cheeks. Taehyung joined our short reunion, hugging around us both.

       “Yoongi,” I whispered, holding his cheeks and wiping them gently. “I’m so sorry.”

       “You came back, that’s all that matters,” He replied, his hard exterior coming back as he winced in pain.

       Wolves attacked you,” Taehyung said, eyes wide and innocent.

       “They’ve been attacking me since after we all came down here,” Yoongi said, gently getting off the table, almost falling as Taehyung and I caught him.

       “Tae, take him back,” I said.

       “Fuck that,” Yoongi growled, glaring at me the best he can. “We need to find Hobi, and if you think you’re going to go in there alone-”

       “Yoongi, you can barely walk,” I growled back.

       “Y/n’s right, baby,” Taehyung said, looking sadly.

       “Can you find your way out?” I asked, looking at him with soft eyes.

       “I’ll follow Jungkook’s scent,” Taehyung replied, frowning. “Be careful… please.”

       “Promise,” I replied, pecking both his and Yoongi’s lips, surprising them both.

       I walked out before we could all change our minds. My lips burned with desire, tingling from the kiss, but my mind was elsewhere. I walked through the halls, the air becoming thinner the deeper I went into it. I sniffed the air, smelling someone I didn’t expect. I quickly followed to the scent, running over to a room that had no guards. When I opened the door, I yelped in surprise.

       Louis was laying on a wooden table, tied just like Yoongi had been. His chest was still, eyes wide open and lifeless. I gulped back a scream, staring wide eyed. This man, one that started off so gruff and mean, who was raised to be someone he despised, had died for me. Died to save me and my boys. My heart broke at the sight, and I had to force my eyes away. Just before leaving, I reached over, shutting his eyes and walking out the door.

       Before I could start my search for Hoseok once more, there was a scream rippling through the air. My head shot in its direction, legs moving before I had the time to process anything. I sprinted over to a room with more guards than I’d seen down here. It seems they were expecting me.

       I tried desperately to push down my emotions as I heard growls and snaps coming from the room, along with whimpering. I lifted my fists at the men, who seemed to laugh and brush me off as they walked closer to me. There was no way I’d be able to fight them all, so I did what I had to….

       I felt my body transform and grow in size, the guards staring in horror and continually looking up while I began to look down at them. Very few people have seen an Alpha female shift, they weren’t the lucky ones. My mouth opened, letting out a scream and growl mixed into one, spit flying at the men. I barely fit in the hallway, but they knew I could still come at them. They all just turned the other way, running through the halls.

       This made me shift back, I didn’t have time to chase them down. Now, my time was limited, as I knew they’d go back to the council and round up as many wolves as they could. I ran into the room, not thinking twice before cracking the neck of the man with a whip. There was a wolf in there, jaw latched around Hoseok’s forearm. He let go, blinking as if surprised, before growling and lunging at me.

       He was on top of me, teeth too close to my neck. I felt his teeth puncture into my flesh, making me scream. I kept my fingers around his own, pushing him further away, but his wolf form was much stronger. My arms began to shake as I yelled in both fear and pain from holding him.

       I watched a wooden stake go through his skull, the wolf going limp. I shoved him off, looking at my savior and breathing heavy. Taehyung was wide eyed, staring at me. My eyes went to Yoongi, who was quickly wrapping Hoseok’s arm in what looked like an old piece of cloth. Yoongi leaned against the table he was on, keeping his balance. I felt blood rolling down my neck, but I ignored it, standing up and walking over, placing my hands on Hoseok’s cheeks. He was opening and closing his eyes as if he was completely gone.

       “I told you to leave,” I growled, glaring at Yoongi who glared back.

       “And I told you that wasn’t happening,” Yoongi growled back.

       “Yoongi wouldn’t leave you,” Taehyung said, holding him up as I picked up Hoseok in my arms. He was so bloody… he was losing too much. “and frankly, I’m glad we followed.”

       “Thank you,” I said, walking out the door and beginning back through the maze of corridors. “We have to get out of here, some guards ran away before I could kill them.”

       Taehyung and Yoongi followed as fast as they could, at one point making Taehyung lift Yoongi so he could run. We found the main staircase, quickly sprinting up it. As soon as we reached the top, the alarms began to ring. This alerts when there’s an emergency, and this time, we were the ones they were after. The main hall was surrounded with wolves and workers who looked panicked, some happened to be guards.

       I sprinted towards a side door, trying as best as I could to blend in with the chaos, Taehyung close behind me. We ran out, the panic of everyone far too dramatic. I had them follow me back to where the back door to my village was. It was still open, but it seemed to have been abandoned for a long time.

       They followed me straight back, arriving to where only Dex and Sooki was. They were both too serious for comfort, and Sooki took Hoseok in her arms as she hopped through the ripple in time. Taehyung and Yoongi seemed skeptical of this, both their eyes wide, but I growled at them, forcing them through. That left Dex and me, who I made go in before I could, so I knew he was safe. Just before I could follow, I heard the cock of a gun, making me gulp.

       “Turn around, now,” A council member growled, making me hold my hands up. Through the tear, I saw both Taehyung and Yoongi staring at me, eyes wide with fear. Jungkook seemed to appear and was about to run through, but Sooki held him still. This was not good….

[darknytemare]

No Words  -Interlude-

[A/N - felt the need to roll back before moving forward. So, you’ll get two releases this weekend! This is the first of two, maybe 3? Then we’ll get back to the present next week! Thank you for reading this mess of a story!]

BTS - V Imagine - Tall Girl - Interracial - Interlude [Flashback]

2 Years Ago.

Lucky.

You couldn’t have asked for a situation to be luckier.  Her heartbeat could have doubled as a production drum track. One of her classmates, another girl from the inner city, looked bored as they sat in the auditorium. They both wanted to make music, good music - interesting music. They wanted to be at the forefront of technology and techniques for producing. They wanted the keys to the kingdom of hit songs. 

The college decided that they could only get that experience - by working with the best of the best. They had invited a range of performers to come and discuss their methodology. Each had a formula that worked for them. Each performer had a story to connect to their songs. It wasn’t about the number one hit, it was about making honest music. About being true to themselves in the best way they can. Especially in an industry, and a country, that didn’t always accept differences. 

She had been listening to various music styles, genres, and languages from a young age. It started in Jr. High, taking Spanish in 7th grade. She followed that throughout her High School time. She’s not embarrassed to say that Ricky Martin was apart of her foray into the Latin sounds. She listened to older songs, love songs, the music, and the story enthralled her. Japanese animation spurred her love for J-Rock and J-Pop. X-Japan dragged her into the world, Dir en Grey kept her attention. She was in love with Visual Kei. Old rock, alternative rock, a smidge of country, and anything with a beat that caused her to lean her head toward it. She was an audiophile, plain, and simple. 

Lead by a thin thread of melody until she had to devour the whole discography of an artist. She wanted to know all the ins and outs of the industry. Granted, there were other worthwhile fields to explore, so she was told. There was almost an expectation of finding easy money in business or even medical fields. She wrote poetry and song lyrics as long as she could remember. Music had been apart of the highs and lows of her life. She could associate a song for every pivotal moment of her life. The playlist spanned generations and the globe. It started when someone introduced her to Super Junior. Then it spiraled into 2NE1, Shinhwa, and the list went on and on. 

She was so thankful her family didn’t try to limit her. Her parents expected her to be open-minded to the world around her. It was something instilled in her upbringing. That open-minded was the bane of her existence during her high school years, unfortunately. In a place where anything different made you strange or weird. She didn’t care for the urban selections that most of her friends were into. 

There were times when her father put on his old school albums that she felt a connection. She wanted the story of music. She wanted the lyrics to strike her heart. That’s what she wanted in her music. She tried to write music, make music like that. All the artists she admired took chances, grew, and came back with something new. 

And now?

She was sitting in an auditorium waiting for the most significant thing in music to come speak to their group. 

She had a plethora of questions, worries, and fears. Everyone on the planet had heard about BTS at this point. There were a few of them who had managed to jump on the train early. Especially finding that they were working with legends in the rap community. Some watched expecting a spectacle - and to a degree? It was a spectacle.

Some wanted to see the thinking process of pinnacles of music that filled many a block party or high school dance. Let’s not forget backyard BBQs and family gatherings. Songs that whether you cared for the genre or not? Still managed to cause your body to move.

An elbow dug into her side as her friend stared wide-eyed at the line of men entering the auditorium. They were all seated semi-circle on the stage. BTS stood in front as the students clapped.

The boys had soft, quiet, smiles waving as RM straightened with a soft phrase. It was almost military in precision as they saluted, bowed, and introduced themselves. They each took a moment to say hello in English at that. She tilted her head as they spoke. 

It’s always a treat to hear a singer’s speaking voice. Some sharply contrasted their sounds. Others were no different from one to the other. She enjoyed the vocal textures, rich, or light tones as they spoke. Her friend saw her grinning like an idiot as her eyes rolled.

“Girl, get yourself together!” Tasha finally whispered to her. There was a thick swallow as she realized what she’d been doing. The boys were provided seats and microphones. They were treated to an acoustic version of one of their songs. To see the look of shock on the other student’s faces was an absolute treat. 

She could only smile as time seemed to zip by. Filled with questions and curiosities. She asked all the questions she could. Always sure to ask for clarification, examples, and advice. RM was ready with a smooth, dimpled smile as he translated. 

They all had solos under their belts at this time. So it was interesting to hear their thought processes. They all had one thing in common, though. The need to tell a story and convey emotion. To make sure that those who heard their music heard a message. It had been the most successful tactic thus far.

“So that ends our time. Everyone lets give BTS a round of applause!” The professor stood, the students followed. The boys bowed again and joined in the applause. They all gathered to shake hands, thanking them for taking time out of their grueling schedule. 

RM raises his hands, spreading them wide. “Thank you for your time! We’ll see you tonight!” Everyone stared blankly at him, then their professor, who smiled widely. “Oh, I forgot to mention. We have permission to go backstage and watch operations for a tour.” To say that the sound that rose from the sudden silence was almost choral? It echoed off the walls as hands shook vigorously, shoulders were clapped - and the excitement caused tears. 

“Alright, let’s get a picture!” The professor tried to get them all to find a spot. She managed to shake hands with most of the boys. Before she got a chance to shake Taehyung’s hand, they were being herded for a photo. She wound up, almost stepping on his foot as she tried to find a comfortable position. She wanted to shrink into nothingness. There was a bit of jostling before they used the bleachers to get them higher. She remembered one of the first words of Korean she’d learned. An apologetic smile as she mumbled an apology. Tae gave that infamous boxy smile with a wave of his hand. Tasha pulled her close as they sat on the bleachers smiling as the picture was taken. “Alright, you guys, meet back here in an hour - we’ll get shuttled to the stadium. Make sure you have your IDs..” The professor went on about etiquette, decorum, and rules. Nobody was listening - there was too much of a buzz about the show. They dispersed, waving the band members off. She bit into the bottom of her lip as they disappeared. 

“Oh. My. God!” Tasha grabbed her and spun around. They laughed as she eyed her friend. 

“Wait a minute, you were unimpressed just about an hour ago.” Tasha’s brow shot up with a devious grin. 

“Girl, we get to go behind the scenes of the hottest tour yet! I may not understand anything - but I’m happy for the opportunity.” Tasha laughed as she tapped the base of a high ponytail. She pursed her lips, swinging its length. “Honey, that RM, though?” Ah, how many times had she heard that?

“Come on, I have to make sure you don’t embarrass me,” Tasha smirked, yanking her by the arm.

“W-what? That’s mean, Tasha!” She frowned slightly as the other woman rolled her eyes. 

“It’s the truth.” She quipped as they hurried across the campus to her dorm. 

“We’re going backstage, there’s nothing to dress for.” She kept the frown on her face Tasha bouldered into her apartment and pulled her in. 

“Hush! Shower, now!” Tasha was taking no excuses as she pointed to the bathroom. 

She grunted, rolling her eyes trudging to the bathroom. 

Tasha respected her need to stay ‘practical’ about everything. She preferred oversized shirts, nearly formless skirts, and pants. Her friend wasn’t about that tonight. Tasha stuck her in a pair of jeans, a button-down shirt slightly tucked. She wore a pair of ankle boots accented with a silver chain. And by the time Tasha finished with her makeup? She hardly recognized herself. 

“T-Tasha, I think you went a little overboard?” Her friend had just finished her own face. The subtle smokey eye with lower-liner really made her eyes pop! Tasha smirked as she grabbed their bags and pushed her out of the door. 

“You’re not used to wearing makeup. Of course, you’d think it was too much.” The other woman rolled her eyes as they sprinted back to the meetup spot with minutes to spare. They all clambered on the shuttle. 

All of a sudden, they were there. This was real. 

They were walked through the various crew hiding spots. The makeshift dressing spaces underneath the stage. Everything was centrally located for the ease of the members.  The head PD was showing the group the setups, the chasers, and they finally arrived in ‘Monitor World.’ The place that was basically production HQ.

Some took notes, some lingered in the back looking around. Not her, no. She wanted to know what buttons did what. She wanted to know how they were sure that the upper-level fans could hear appropriately.

There were a few people with her curious about various other things. They could hear the crowd until they queued the chase pattern for the opening song. The boys rose from a floor lift. The group went wild as they started in on Blood, Sweat & Tears. 

Walkie talkies were going off left and right. Every time something could possibly go wrong? It was pointed out, corrected, and communicated. It was a tight run ship. They moved along to the area under the stage, just as the boys were lowered for a set and costume change. 

They were breathing heavy, sweating, and peeling their costumes off. There were people on the sides taking them, ushering them into the makeshift spaces. The students stayed back out of the way. The transition was so fast the students couldn’t help but stare wide-eyed. They made it back to the control hub. 

As if to make sure they were paying attention? The Head PD asked them to point out what they remembered. Tasha nudged her with a thumbs up. You got this, she mouthed. Everyone shifted on their feet as they fought to not being first. 

She straightened her posture as she stepped forward. “I’d like to give it a try.” The Head PD double-blinked as stood next to him. Ah, it was probably her height. She offered a gentle smile and nod, “If that’s ok?” 

“Please do. The routine is the same as before.” He smiled with his walkie talkie in hand. She took a deep breath, stepping closer to the operators at the panel. A headset sat on her head as the plethora of voices filled her ear.

The Head PD let them know that a student was making the calls, but he was overseeing. Two more students joined the panel board, the techs looking over their shoulders and pointing out controls.

She counted them down for each new element. 

The lights went dark as the chase pattern activated. They could do this - she could do this.

45 very long minutes later?

“Holy fuck, you did it?!” Tasha grabbed her in a frantic hug. “Y-you really fucking did it! I was scared shitless, man!” Her mind was still hazy over what just occurred. Tasha looped their arms together as the concert sailed to a close. They stood in the back eyes trained to the fireworks display above them.

“I thought I was going to vomit.” She admitted quietly. Tasha moved rainbow-colored braids from her face. 

“You should be proud of yourself.” They shared a smile as the professor rounded them up again. They followed the road crew as the stage was broken down. The last fans had long gone, and they were all alone again. The trucks, vans, and equipment checked and secured. She had followed the equipment with a few other students. They watched the breakdown and helped to carry pieces to be stored. There were, of course, a few quips of concern as she hauled a miniature subwoofer to the van. 

She politely reinforced her ability to contribute and promptly turned with the item in hand. She rolled up her sleeves, forearms contracting as she moved along the corridor. Ah, why did she let Tasha try to doll her up? The familiar burn in her muscles ebbed away as she handed the equipment to the technical director. She was at home when she could tomboy her way through situations.

She offered a bow turning to make her way back to the main group. A moment too long of watching everything around her left her in an area she didn’t recognize. A frown as she spun in a circle taking the next left turn under the created passageways - and she slammed into something.

“Ah!” A voice, male exclaimed as she staggered backward. 

She stumbled, and that someone, thankfully, pulled her arm hard to keep her from landing on her rump. She sucked in a breath as her gaze lifted. “Shit! I’m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was-” A grunt rumbled through the air as her eyes went wide. “Oh.” 

Kim Taehyung was plucking the final buttons from his shirt. His gaze lowered to the floor as he fought off exhaustion. They had to get changed to meet up on the stage again. It took him a little longer to get the cramps out of his legs. He barely made out a shadow before his body collided with it. 

He saw her bounce from foot to foot before he pulled her arm. He heard the remorse in her voice as she rambled. His brow furrowed as she spoke too quick for him to pick out words. He still had his fingers wrapped around her forearm as she looked up at him. 

She smelled ... magnificent. His lashes lowered, nostrils flaring, on an inhale. She watched the perfect heart shape of his mouth part softly. She lowered her gaze to the expanse of flesh in her face. He was one button away from a cheesy romance novel cover. 

They stood in silence, trading body heat before she glanced at the long fingers burning into her skin. Their gazes locked again, “You should be more careful.” He rumbled softly. Her lip caught between her teeth as she nodded rapidly.

“R-right. I’m sorry. Thank you.” She coughed softly, stepping away from him. His fingers still lingered until they loosened. Her eyes were wide as she turned on her heel, trying to get back out to the main walkway without that hint of desperation in her steps.

Tasha came rounding the corner at that very moment. “Hey! They’re waiting on us on stage for a final picture. Come on! I’m not missing this because of you.” Her friend yanked her along with a stupid grin on her face. 

“Tae, Hyung, come on!” Jeongguk showed up as Tae went in the opposite direction. The maknae let him in their makeshift space. He helped Tae peel out of a sweaty costume. “I can’t wait to get some food and a beer.” Tae shrugged on a turtle neck, an oversized sweatshirt, and black slacks. 

“That makes two of us.” The visual croaked tiredly. “Come on, then.” Jeongguk gave that bunny-like smile as he dragged Tae toward the stage. Tae sulked, “What are you doing?”

Jeongguk’s brow shot up as they walked into the wings. “We have to take a picture with the class from earlier!” Tae rolled his eyes as he was dragged out. They made it in time for Namjoon to address everyone.

“It’s been an absolute pleasure to meet you all. Good luck in the future. Please wish us well - and maybe? We’ll see you backstage with us someday!” There was a round of applause as everybody tried to find a spot to fit in the picture. Tasha winked as she made her way over to squeeze near Namjoon.

The betrayal of it all! She laughed as Tasha found a sweet spot to brag about later. She, on the other hand, wanted to just kneel down the front. The professor frowned with a wave of her hand, “Come on, you know you’re too tall up here! Stand back there.” There was a grimace on her face as she moved to the back. They were staged in layers again. 

“Everybody in!” She felt jostled as arms pulled against her shoulders. Before she had a moment to register anything? Jeongguk squeezed on one side of her, his arm around Taehyung, who squeezed on the other. 

Students, Staff, and Band, were connected in the joy of a show well done. The camera flashed, and she smiled on autopilot. A few flashes, more applause, and she was quick to escape the trap she found herself in. 

Jeongguk had caught a whiff of something pleasant, tilting his head curiously at the tall female. Both he and Tae seemed to find each other’s gaze as they flitted looks at the woman between them. 

She turned to shake their hands with a quiet thank you. Both of them seemed to take TOO LONG to let her hand go. She beat feet in Tasha’s direction as soon as she could. Tasha had this dreamy look on her face after speaking to Namjoon for a few minutes.

“Is this what heaven is like?” Tasha’s eyes were glassy and hooded. You’d think the girl finished smoking an exquisite bouquet of thc studded sticks. 

“It could be, Tash. It could be.” She smiled, turning to look at the empty stadium. The students have all huddled together once again. The professor was talking with the TDs and PDs, even Namjoon was there. There was a look of stern concentration on various faces. A cellphone in the middle of the group seemed to be the main focus. 

The chill in the air didn’t phase them as they spoke of their experience. They lamented their mistakes. They reveled in techniques to apply later. They were buzzing with excitement and a renewed appreciation for following their current educational path.

“Ok, everyone, listen up!” Their professor walked back over with a massive smile on her face. Tasha was rambling with her arms wrapped around her frame. She could see the heat of breath wavering in the air. The professor’s excitement was palpable with a gesture back to the team behind her. Suddenly, she could feel her heart thundering against her rib cage. Maybe the others could hear it too? They all got quiet.

They were all staring at each other, then at her. Her mouth was half-open as white noise filled her head. Her brow furrowed deeply as others around her wore looks of shock and disbelief. Then there was more applause.

Tasha grabbed her, jumping up and down, her voice pitched to shrieking. She felt her body shake as she turned the dazed look to her friend. 

W-wait, what?

Tasha cupped her face and looked ready to cry. She blinked down into her friend’s face, prepared to be violently sick.

She turned back to the professor, catching the end of her statement as her hearing filtered back in.

“...you passed…” Her eyes went wide. “...intense work-study opportunity…” She was surely going to be sick. “...traveling with the tour…” More applause. “You’ll still need to complete courses, you'll be provided with online links.” She staggered into Tasha, who laughed even louder.

“We wanted to see how this first run would work, and you surpassed all expectations. Congratulations, you’ll set the tone for the future students of the program.”

You blinked back tears as you engulfed Tasha in a hug. Not only were you all going to be able to get the first-hand experience? You’ll get it with BTS. It all made sense as to why they required a passport as an admission qualification. The professor stepped away to join the technical team while you all rejoiced. Namjoon and the rest of BTS gathered to shake your hands, and offer their congratulations.

Comments expecting good things ahead were traded. She was happy. This was unbelievable - a stroke of luck. 

Tasha managed to steal a hug from Namjoon, crying almost harder when she turned around. A firm hand landed on her own, leaving her with a beaming Jeongguk. A half bow, a smile, a nod of thanks as he lingered. Taehyung all but moved the maknae aside to get her hand in his again. 

He had that arrogant tilt to his head. The tip of his tongue caught between his teeth as he lifted her hand. The light caught the dark chocolate of his gaze as he let his breath ghost across her knuckles. 

He eased up, flashing a boxy smile before grabbing Tasha, doing the same. She shook off the strangeness of it all, turning to her friend with open arms. 

“We did it!” 

Their arms looped as they finally made their way off stage. The shuttle was waiting to get them to a small celebration. She still couldn’t help looking over her shoulder. For just a moment, she felt something staring a hole into her shoulder from the shadows.

Her brow furrowed as Tasha pulled her attention forward. 

...just missing the two silhouettes lingering in the wings.

[kaleldobrev]

The Old Fashioned Way (Part 3 of the “Vous Aussi” series)

Series Plot: You’re a serial killer who is active in Kansas, who has teamed up with the Winchester’s. Here’s a prequel of how that partnership started.

Chapter Three Summary: Sam and Dean take care of the reader the old fashioned way.

Reader Gender: Female

Warnings: smut, pure smut, honestly this is porn, threesome with Sam & Dean, fingering, daddy kink, talk of fear kink, humiliation, dirty talk, slight slut shaming, talks of sam and dean having big boys, slight praise kink, rough sex

Notes: Hope you all enjoy this work of pure porn

Chapter 1 - Tonight’s The Night

Chapter 2 - Want To Make a Deal?

Chapter 3 (AO3 Link)

The fact that I was chained to a metal table by my ankles and wrists was really a lady boner killer, because I wanted to reach out and touch the two men before me. I hated to admit this to myself, and I really, really did; but they were far from mildly attractive. I have seen some pretty attractive men in my day, I mean, my high school boyfriend was probably the most attractive man I ever have killed, but Sam and Dean Winchester were pretty high up there, or maybe even on the same level. There was so much I wanted to do, but they wouldn’t release the binding they had on me; they thought that it would be “more fun” if I stayed chained up. Maybe more fun for them, but not nearly as much fun for me. The whole point of this challenge was to try and prove myself. Prove that I could actually get them off with minimal use of my body. Little did they know, I actually was very much into bondage, but I wasn’t usually the one being bound; it was my victims or the random men that I slept with when I was bored. So being bound was definitely a new experience for me.

I looked at the two men before me. They were exchanging looks, giving each other silent ques. I guess that was one of the perks when it came to siblings. After a moment of their silence exchange, Dean was the first one to come next to me. He stood on the side of the metal table I was on, and just smirked. He ran his hands down the edge of the table, and his fingertips were dangerously close to my skin. When he got to the edge of the table where my waist was, he pulled a kind of lever, which made the table go flat instead of right up like it was. The sudden motion made me let out a small yelp, which only made the two men chuckle. “Did I scare you there sweetheart?” Dean playfully asked. I shook my head. “Good. Cause we can’t have you being scared now. Then again, that would add to the fun.” He commented, a slightly evil smirk formed on his lips.

“Are you into girls who have a fear kink?” I asked, having my own little smirk at the end of my question. My question caused not only Dean to bit his bottom lip, but for Sam to smirk as well.

“Nah sweetheart. It just really gets me going when I look into a girls eyes and just seeing pure fear or terror.” Dean responded. He started playing with random strands of my hair while he continued to look me in the eyes. “But I know we’re probably not gonna get the look of pure fear or terror from you.” He almost seemed disappointed.

“The perks of being a fellow serial killer. I don’t get scared. Plus, you boys don’t scare me in the slightest.” I felt myself lick my lips at my sentence. I was actually more into this than I would have liked to admit.

“We don’t scare you uh?” Sam questioned. He was on the other side of the table now. “I guess we’re gonna have to figure out how to scare you then. Unless, you can excite us in other ways. Which, you better hope for or the deal is off, and you’re just going to be one of our victims.” He smirked. Sam seemed way too happy about this. But I couldn’t blame him, I was a pretty hot chick. I’d love the chance to fuck me.

“Do your worst boys. I can handle a lot.” I told them, being way too cocky now.

“Oh sweetheart,” Dean began to say.

“We’ll do our worst,” Sam finished.

“Good.” I replied, and with that, Sam and Dean walked away from the table and headed toward a closet on the other side of the room. The closet was made of metal, like many of the other things that were in this room; and it had a padlock on the door. Sam was the one who punched in the code, and opened up the closet. Even though I could not see everything in the closet, it seemed as though that was their designated BDSM closet. I could see a variety of different chains, and whips. There was a knife or two, and some ropes, and even some handcuffs. But I’m sure there was more to that closet than meets the eye.

Sam and Dean stood there in front of the closet but what seemed like forever. They were whispering, and I couldn’t really make out what they were saying. There were a few pieces to the conversation that I managed to hear which were, ”Not this one, that one,” “She’d really love this,” “We gotta give her our worst.”

After a few minutes of them trying to figure out what they were going to do, the both of them came back to the table. “So boys, whatcha got for me?” I asked, pretty curious. The boys looked at me, with semi evil grins on their faces. Dean was the first one to reveal that he actually had nothing in his hands. I then looked over at Sam and he too, did not have anything in his hands. “All that commotion and nothing?” I asked.

“We’re going to do this the old fashioned way.” Dean said coming closer to me. His fingers were playing with my hair again.

“The old fashioned way uh?” I asked curious.

“Hands.” Sam replied, going to the other side of the table. I turned my head to look at him, slightly confused by his answer.

“Hands?” I questioned, and Sam nodded.

“Hands.” He replied back. His answers not really clearing anything up. I turned my head to face Dean, hoping that he would clear something up.

“And fingers.” Was all Dean said in response.

I let out a small huff, getting a little frustrated by their lack of explanation. “Would you boys like to explain to me what you mean by hands and fingers instead of just saying it?” I asked them, which caused them to let out a chuckle.

“We’ll show you.” Dean answered.

“It’ll be more fun that way.” Sam added. Finally, some kind of explanation. Well, kind of.

At this moment, Dean stopped playing with my hair now and decided to run his hands along my body. His hands stopped at my thigh, at the hem of my dress and started to slowly lift the fabric. The hem of my dress started to go up and up, revealing more and more of my thigh. Dean stopped for a moment and looked over at his younger brother. The younger Winchester gave him a small nod, urging him to keep going, in which the older Winchester obliged. Dean continued to lift the hem of my dress until the hem reached to were my underwear was. Dean looked at his younger brother again, in which Dean removed his hands from my dress and Sam decided to take over. Sam decided to take both of his hands and instead of taking the hem of my dress like I thought he would, his hands were on my hips now, his point fingers on my underwear, ready to pull them down at a moments notice. I felt myself suck in a breath, before he pulled them down with full force. Sam held my underwear in his hands for a moment. I could see a slight smirk on his lips.

“Cute.” Dean replied looking at my underwear in Sam’s hands. The underwear was red lace, and if you saw them on me without my dress, you can see that they would barely cover my ass.

“Only cute?” I asked.

“I’m just surprised that you wore underwear at all.” Dean said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You just seem like a slut, and sluts usually don’t wear underwear.” Sam added to the conversation. He held them right in front of his face for a moment like he was admiring them. “Even if you can call these underwear.” He said. A part of me thought that it was kind of cute when he called me a slut. Not really expecting that kind of language from someone that looked like him. He just seemed too innocent in a way. After a moment more of staring, he decided to toss them to the side. I’d probably wouldn’t be getting those back any time soon.

At this point, my dress was now up to my bra line and my entire bottom half was exposed for them to do whatever they wanted. I started to get turned on just thinking about all of dirty things they could possibly do to me given the fact that I was chained up and exposed. Dean walked around to the end of the table to where my feet were and Sam decided to move to the top of the table just above my head. “Spread your legs.” Dean demanded, and I gladly obliged. I felt my lips turn into a smile, which caused Dean to smirk. “Good girl. At least you know how to follow simple directions.” I began to open myself to say something, but Sam was the one that covered my mouth. “No talking unless we tell you. We don’t need your pointless commentary.” Ouch. That hit my ego just a little bit.

Dean hooked his arms underneath my knees so my legs were on his shoulders. Sam held his hand over my mouth and watched my gaze as I looked at Dean between my legs. The older Winchester started kissing my legs, and went slowly up my thighs. His kisses felt good against my freshly shaven legs as he has slight scruff on his face. It tickled a bit, but it still felt good nonetheless.

After what seemed like forever, he finally reached my pussy, and I felt myself suck in a breath. Sam felt me doing that, and I felt him chuckle. When he did so, Dean looked up from between my legs and looked over at Sam. A slightly devilish look on his face. “You jealous there little brother?” Dean asked.

“Just slightly.” Sam replied.

“Don’t worry brother. You’ll get your chance.” Dean smirked.

“Of course. Age before beauty.” Sam said, causing Dean to chuckle.

At that moment, Dean finally made contact with my pussy and started licking and sucking. I started to shift a bit from the contact, and with his other hand, Sam made sure that I stayed in one place. Dean started making circular motions with his tongue now, and I was doing all I could to keep my legs open like he asked me to; but it was hard. As Dean continued, painfully slow, I felt myself go a little weak in the knees and I let out a muffled moan due to Sam still having his hand covering my mouth. I was starting to get close, which Dean knew, because he started to pick up the pace a bit. He removed his mouth for the shortest amount of time and replaced it with two fingers right away. He plunged them in, not even giving my pussy time to adjust. I bucked my hips forward at the feeling. It was a mixture of slight pain, but it was more pleasure than anything. As he continued to move his fingers in and out of me, he added his tongue again. I’ve gotten eaten out and fingered more times than I could possibly count, but Dean Winchester was probably one of the best; and that was saying something.

After a few more pumps of his fingers and some plunges from his tongue, my body tensed up and I let myself go. My legs started to shake and I came. As I came, Dean’s tongue and fingers continued to pump in and out of me throughout my orgasm. After I ended my first orgasm, Dean removed his face from between my legs and unhooked his arms from my legs. He started to unbuckle his pants and pulled them down, revealing himself to be pretty endowed. “You know, I’ve always been an ass man myself but…” Dean began to say as he made himself at home between my legs again. “I think I can make an exception when it comes to your cunt.” He finished and started stroking himself, even though he was already hard. “Alright slut. Are you ready?” He asked me and then laughed. “Of course you are. Sluts are always ready.” He smirked. Taking his cock in his hand, he started teasing my entrance with the tip; precum and my own juices coating my entrance. All I wanted him to do was just fuck me already. I started to speak, even though my speech was muffled. “What is that sweetheart?” Dean asked, and he nodded to Sam. A silent gesture so that he could remove his hand from my mouth.

“Will you please just fuck me already?” I practically begged.

“Aw.” Dean said. He continued to tease my entrance, barely putting anything inside me. “What was that sweetheart? I don’t think I quite heard you.”

I let out a sigh. “I said. please fuck me.”

He started to put his cock a little bit more inside me, but still, there was barely anything. He was big, and at this rate, it was going to take him a while in order for him to finish putting the rest of himself inside of me. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” Now he was just being cute.

“Dean, please.” I began to say. “I need your cock. My cunt needs it.” If I could feel embarrassment, I’m sure I would feel it right now. This was humiliating.

“And why do you need my cock sweetheart?” He asked.

“Because I’m a slut.” I replied.

“Who’s slut?” A smirk was on his face now. Some more of his cock entered me.

“Yours.” I replied.

“Only Dean’s?” Sam interjected now.

“And yours.” I said.

“Now all together.” Dean said.

“I need your cock Dean, please. I need your cock inside my cunt because I’m a slut for you and Sam.” This was humiliating.

Dean laughed. “Give the girl a round of applause.” He was mocking me now. “But, I’m going to give you my cock instead, since you said please so pretty.” At that moment, he put his whole cock inside of me, and I let out a small little shout. I knew he was big, but I didn’t think he was that big. From the feel of it, it felt like he had to force himself inside of me. Which made sense, but I was slightly surprised given the fact that I already did have an orgasm and my cunt was still wet from my cum and his saliva. “Atta girl.” Dean said, starting to go slow. “Taking my cock like a pro.” He grinned, and I hated myself for loving that grin of his. He started to go faster. “Such a good girl for me.” His comments were making me wetter and I hated it. This was so humiliating.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I mumbled and moaned, hating the kind of affect he had on me. If Dean had this affect on me, there’s no telling what kind of affect Sam was going to do to me. I had a feeling he was pretty endowed too, given the fact that he was basically a giant. I continued to moan out other profanities as Dean continued to go faster and faster. His hands were holding my hips. They were tight against them, and I knew he was going to leave bruises. Bruises was something that he wanted. So he could mark me. I could appreciate that. Dean’s pace was steady, and he was wasn’t sloppy even though I knew he was close. The grip on my hips started to get tighter and tighter. The more he pounded into me, the more profanities I started moaning out.

“You’re gonna have such pretty bruises.” Sam looked me in the eyes, and I grinned as much as I could. A part of me loved the fact that I was going to have bruises. Sam leaned down and kissed my lips. They were softer than I was expecting them to be. As he kissed me, Dean was now starting to get sloppy with his movements. I moaned into Sam’s moan, and I could feel his lips curve up into a smile.

“I’m gonna cum so deep in this pretty cunt of yours.” Dean commented, placing one of his hands on my stomach and keeping the other one on my hips. “Hope you’re taking something sweetheart ‘cause, I’m not gonna be a dad to some kid. The only dad I’m gonna be is yours.” And at that moment, I felt his cum inside of me, and Sam bit down on my bottom lip; a small amount of my blood fell in my mouth, and I felt like I died and went to Heaven; because this moment here was going to be the closest I would ever get to being in Heaven. I let out a deep moan, and my whole body shook. My second orgasm happened, and Dean continued to ride it out. After I was done with my orgasm, he removed his cock from my body, and I slightly whined at the contact. “Aw, don’t worry sweetheart. You’re gonna get filled real quick.” Dean said grabbing his pants and pulling them up, not bothering to put his belt back on. “Your other dad is gonna take real good care of you like I did.” He smirked. God I hated and loved his smirk. “Nothing to say?” He asked me.

“Just…Trying…To…Catch my breath…Daddy.” I said, wanting to vomit in my mouth. I hated myself for being into this, because of how humiliating this was. But I just couldn’t help being turned on. It’s not everyday you have two decent looking men fucking you. Then again, this might be how their victims felt.

I saw Dean’s smile grow wider when I called him Daddy; this is exactly what he wanted to hear. If I could stroke his ego a bit, I’m more than willing to do so. I understood that after all. “I’m gonna take good care of you.” Sam said. It was his turn now; and if the size of Dean’s cock said anything, Sam’s was probably going to be just as big or even bigger. He was going to rip me in half, and I was strangely okay with that.

Sam and Dean switched now. Dean was now by my head and Sam was between my legs; his pants already down. “Oh fuck…” I mumbled. Sam laughed, as he stepped between my legs.

“And you thought my brother was big.” Sam scoffed.

“Bitch.” Dean mumbled.

“Jerk.” Sam replied. The two of them smiled, sharing a moment. But all I wanted was for Sam to fuck me. I didn’t care about this brotherly moment they were having in the slightest. I rolled my eyes. “Oh, not into this moment of ours?” He asked.

“Not particularly. I just want you to fuck me with your cock.” I said.

“Aw. You’re gonna have to do better than that.” Sam said, a slight pout on his face.

“Daddy, please fuck me. I need your cock inside me. I need your cum. Your slut needs you.” I hated how much I was begging right now.

“There’s my girl.” Sam’s hands made a home on my hips, in the same position Dean’s were. If I wasn’t going to have bruises before, I was definitely going to have bruises now. Sam didn’t even tease my cunt like Dean did, he just went straight for it and plunged into me. Like Dean, it felt like Sam had to force his cock inside me. There was more pain this time, because he didn’t ease his way in like Dean kind of did. Even though Dean was big, Sam was just a little bit bigger, but not by much. But they were both pretty big guys nonetheless.

“Sam, fuck.” I said, a little louder than I expected, as he started pumping in and out of me. He was rough and fast, unlike Dean, but they were both still similar in their movements. As he kept pumping in and out of me, Dean leaned down and kissed me. His kisses weren’t soft like his brothers, they were a bit rougher. I felt Dean’s tongue go along my bottom lip, like he was trying to feel the small bite that Sam had left on my bottom lip. I could slightly taste myself on his lips.

“You feel so good.” Sam started praising me, stroking my ego. “Probably one of the nicest cunts I’ve fucked.” His mouth was so dirty, much dirtier than Dean’s. “God…” Sam started to say something, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

Dean removed his lips from mine, and looked at Sam, then looked at me. “Just so you know sweetheart. Sam doesn’t fuck every girl we get. That’s usually my thing. So, when Sam says that you’ve got a nice little cunt, he means it. Why don’t you tell him thank you for that compliment?” It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a demand.

“Thank you for the compliment daddy.” I said, no hesitation in my voice whatsoever.

“That’s our little slut.” Dean said, kissing my lips again. Sam’s movements were now getting sloppy. He was getting close and so was I. I felt myself getting more and more on the edge of cumming; I wasn’t sure if I was able to cum again, but I knew Sam was going to get me there.

“You better cum when I do.” Sam demanded; his voice stern. Within moments, the both of us came. His cum flooded inside of me, and I felt myself cum around his cock.

Sam pulled himself out of me, it was quick and I hated the loss of contact. I wanted him to keep his cock inside of me. I wanted the both of them to keep their cocks inside of me. “Well Sammy, what do you think?” Dean asked. I started breathing in and out, trying to catch my breath.

“I think she has herself a deal.” Sam smirked.

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