#he has kept me locked up in a golden cage for 7 years

[ohcarolina]

and there's so much stuff in my head that just makes it all so clear. like right now he's putting our son to bed and he's just arguing with him... never a nice word to his literal flesh and blood, he only ever cares about me in an extremely uncomfortable hyperfixated way. and i remember when he proposed i hated every second of it, i felt so awkward and i actually had like a rage in my gut... and then i said yes because i'm a dumb bitch who could never say no. i know this all sounds really horrible reading it from an outside pov...

[hotwings0203]

Gilded Cage

A/N: It’s embarrassing how long this took but oh well, happy new year to everyone and I hope you enjoy scummy yandere hawks!

Warnings: dubcon, kidnapping, abuse, toxic relationships, degradation, yandere themes

************

At first she welcomed the bright flashing lights like a breath of fresh air, but in due time it made her throat close up like the rest of the situation.

He had agreed to let her out if she behaved, and that meant no biting, scratching, screaming, flinching, temper tantrums, and worst of all, no silent treatment.

And she would take it like a champ if it meant seeing any other person in 6 months.

He had kept her here like a flightless bird in this cage of theirs, and oh how ironic it was that she was succumbed to be the prey of this ruthless hawk, with him able to soar amongst the people and buildings while Y/n stayed perched in the house, her ever-growing wings mentally becoming too much for her to control and stay silent about.

She needed space, she wanted to leave, but she didn’t dare voicing any of her wants, especially when Keigo made it so clear how her meager wants were of no match for his needs.

And his needs, as he’s made so clear thus far, include her being a pliant, quiet, yet loving little birdie who cooks, cleans, and lays with him day and night without complaint.

God forbid she speaks up about her...living conditions, as he liked to so generously supply to her the first and last time she ever had this conversation with him. She tried telling him how she originally had loved their relationship of a couple of months, and sure it might have been weird for him to push her into moving in with him only after 3 months, but it was because of how much he loved her or so he said at least, when he bashed her head repeatedly on the ground when she told him it “wasn’t normal to rush into things so fast”.

Sure, he had a big spacious penthouse lent to him by the Hero Commission so being physically cramped was never a problem, and yes okay he showered her with gifts and little trinkets, just like birds did with their mates even more so after a big fight that usually left her black and blue, with swollen lips, ripped up knees and big red welts on her wrists while the hero himself was left with not even a feather out of place.

But there were days where their movie nights and cuddling sessions didn’t cut it for her anymore. There were nights when she couldn’t take his suffocating arms around her a second longer, only to be replaced by an even heavier and darker presence when she tried turning on her side away from him.

Sometimes it would be a chain reaction caused by the smallest of catalysts, however. It would be on a day where he left the restraints on a little too tightly, and Y/n was forced to use toothpaste on her wrists instead of the salve Keigo always kept in the medicine closet. Other times it would happen when he would keep feeling up her sides and pressing into her after a long day of her cooking in hopes that the plentiful food would be enough to keep him occupied away from her, even if it was for an hour or two.

It never was, though. He always wanted her, whether it was her scent, her presence, or her clothes that he kept in his pockets on his missions.

On those days, the days where she felt too much Keigo, too many feathers and too much Hawks was when she snapped.

Down would go the plates, the expensive wine glasses, the vases filled with flowers sent by hundreds of fangirls who knew nothing about the monster that he actually was. She’d tear out her mussed hair, red-faced with tears that ruined her makeup the makeup that she liked to wear on these types of days just to piss him off, knowing that he thought “excess makeup is for whores and catfishes. I already know you’re a whore, well, my whore, but you’re not even good enough at applying makeup to be deemed a catfish so don’t even try it hummingbird” while screaming in his face to let go, for the love of god Hawks PLEASE let me go I want to go home I don’t want this anymore I don’t want YOU anymore this isn’t working out I don’t love you-

And crack would be the sound of his palm across her face, knocking her to the floor. On these types of days he wouldn’t even think she deserved a change in facial expression, staring down at her pathetic trembling body while his lips were set in a subtle casual smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets as if he never raised an arm a second ago, and his eyes remained golden and neutral, the only indication of him processing her tantrum was the black glint in his pupils that dilated every time she gasped and sobbed on the floor.

To ensure that his precious, oh-so fragile lovebird wouldn’t hurt herself any further with her stupidity, he’d crouch down inches away from her face and cock his head slightly as a real bird would do. He’d reach out and lift her chin to face him while his other hand would snake up her thigh to try and console her which only succeeded in making her shake and breath unevenly.

Leaning forward to ghost his lips over the shell of her ear, he’d relish in the way her mouth would part in terror as he would lovingly whisper every threat of what he’d do to her the next time she wanted to be like a brat, because god help her if she thought he couldn’t tame a brat after dealing with a lifetime of villains.

It was almost laughable, how easy she was to silence. He didn’t even need to use feathers to pull her to her feet when he would tell her to go to the bed and get on all fours like the bitch she was.

She had to earn her way back into being his good, obedient little dove, on days like these.

But after these days would pass and she would indeed realign with his expectations, he would reward her greatly.

Never like this, though.

Y/n is brought to the present again as another flash of light from the paparazzi snaps her out of her daze. As the spots begin to fade from her vision, she sees Keigo in front of her adorning his trademark “for the fans-only” grin, although Y/n would call it a sleazy smile, the same smile he would give her before he signaled his feathers to cut deep into her feet so she’d stop kicking at him as he dragged her on the floor and feels him squeeze her hand a little too tightly to be dubbed as endearing.

“Stop zoning out on me, you look like a ditz”, he hisses through his teeth, his grin now resembling more of a bared-teeth look.

She tries to try to fix her face and pull the corners of her mouth up, attempting to also brighten her eyes and looking interested at the blond interviewer who was now conversing with Hawks about his recent team-up with Endeavor. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to not shove past the phony smiles and flashy attire enveloping her and waltz down the red carpet to the doors of the gala. She thinks if she hears him utter another word about how he’s so incredibly blessed to have the love and support of my fans, family, and most importantly, my girlfriend who has stuck by my side through thick and thin, she’ll puke on the bedazzled yellow dress the interviewer has on.

As if. He’d probably whisk her off to the nearest bathroom and pummel her on the floor right then and there just for being distracted, but not before fucking her as well.

She feels Hawks nudge her side, and on cue she darts her head up and really plasters on a blinding smile as she focuses on the question that was just asked to her.

“Sorry, what was that? I think I got distracted by your outfit, you look lovely tonight, an absolute catch.” She winks for good measure, just to salvage the damage of ignoring the conversation and Keigo’s tight-lipped smile, which was beginning to soften.

Bingo.

“Oh you’re so sweet! I can see why Mr. Number Two here swooped in to take such a cutie like yourself.” The interviewer giggled, twirling a golden lock around her finger. “But no worries, I was just saying you should come make a public appearance more often! I mean, the media barely gets to see you with Hawks intimately, it would be a great excuse to get all glammed-up as well...I mean, if Hawks here hasn’t got his talons sunk too deep into you.” She laughs shrilly and doesn’t notice how both Y/n and Keigo tense up at her insinuation.

Yeah lady, you’re not too far from the truth. The last time I tried to look nice and go outside, I was bedridden for a week and a half while nursing frozen peas over 7 different parts of my body, inside and out.

But if Keigo can bullshit more than he can tell the truth, then so could she.

She laughs warmly and places her hand on his shoulder lightly, just to sell the “supportive girlfriend” look.

“Well, I really would love to come out and show my support for him more often, but we’ve both agreed that with all the publicity anyways, it’s just too much pressure for me to deal with. I’d rather just stick with what I know and keep it hush between him and I.” She turns her gaze to Keigo now, superficially giving him a puppy-in-love look but discreetly seeking his approval if what she said was the correct thing or not.

He merely gave her an amused smile, as if to say damn, wasn’t expecting that answer but I guess it’s fine. Yeah. Two can play at that game.

Pleased with her answer, the blond bimbo turns on her heel and sashays away, leaving the couple by themselves.

Keigo gives Y/n a side eye and cautiously holds out his elbow for her to take. A peace offering for the meantime, just to reward her for the quick save.

Don’t fuck this up for me, or you’ll regret it tenfold when we get back home.

“Shall we?” He waits for her to oblige, and of course she does.

Arm-in arm, they gracefully walk down the red carpet towards the gold plated doors. Upon entering, Y/n’s breath is taken away at the grand hall, with red banners hanging from the balconies that had navy blue and gold words of praise for the heroes engraved in the silk. Hundreds of pro heroes filled the room, much more than what she was used to from only interacting with her captor for months.

Guiding her over to the long granite bar, Keigo squeezes her arm before lightly dropping it. Before she can move, he stands directly in front of her and his vermillion wings unfurl and slightly surround the two of them, creating their own little space. To others, it might’ve just looked like two lovers embracing each other and having their own little moment. Y/N knew better, however, and suspected he had ulterior motives.

She was right.

“I’m gonna leave you here for a few minutes, ‘kay? I don’t want you moving from here,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and she had to suppress a shudder at his unwanted proximity. “The feather stays on, and I better not see or hear anything funny while I’m away.”

She nodded and touched her necklace that was indeed laced with one of his feathers, remembering the deal he made when he agreed to let you out for the day.

Ah yes, the dreaded feather.

When she had approached him on shaking legs two days prior, Hawks was brushing his hair in the bathroom, keen on meticulously keeping it styled and ruffed up in the morning. It was one of the things that Y/N would begrudgingly say was one of his finest features, along with his natural eyeliner-shaped markings and rugged yet handsome facial features.

On good days, she liked to lightly trace her fingers and across his sharp jawline and feel the stubble growing on his blushed face. She’d try to stop immediately however, when he’d open his eyes and catch her hand, moving it across his body much to her chagrin and down to his-

She had stood outside the door, fumbling with the hem of her thin nightie and desperately trying to pull the short material past her bare thighs as she mustered up the courage to bring up her proposition.

Keigo slowly ceased his brushing when he saw the meek little thing quivering outside his door, and he quirked up an amused eyebrow. He braced both arms on either side of the sink, and let out a light exhale, before addressing her.

“Something wrong hummingbird?”

She dragged her eyes from the floor up to his dilated golden irises, and blurted out what she had been rehearsing in her head for the past couple of days:

“DoyouthinkIcouldcomewithyoutothegala?”

“Huh?” he snickered, thoroughly bewildered by what incomprehensible nonsense she had stuttered out.

Y/N bit her lip and took in a shaky breath, strike one, she fumbled her first try.

“Haw- uh, Keigo,” she corrected quickly. He preferred her using his first name, his real name. He claimed it made things more intimate between them as if carving his name on her back hadn't been enough to seal their “intimacy’-she didn’t need to be told twice what to call him by after that day “I was wondering...if I’m good and I don’t give you a hard time, can I come with you to the hero's gala?”

Keigo’s brow furrowed slightly, and he cocked his head to the side like a real bird. He seemed to be contemplating it.

“Alright,” he conceded after a couple seconds. “If, and I mean if you listen to me and don’t try any funny business while we’re there I’ll let you tag along.”

Y/N darted her eyes up to him, hope swimming in her heart.

“But you have to wear the feather.”

She immediately blanched.

A major inconvenience that she had come to terms with in the duration of her stay with him had been his stupid fucking feathers that layed oh-so-casually around the floor where she walked and coincidentally clinging to her clothes wherever she went out of Keigo’s eyesight, even though she was trapped on the same floor with him.

They had special properties; they could detect any movement, sense any vibration whenever he called for it. This made for a perfect tracker for Y/N in terms of whenever he wanted an update on her heartbeat, her mood, her whereabouts, and anything in between.

Yes, it was suffocating. But she would much rather it only be a suffocating feeling rather than him actually directing hundreds of feathers to surround her and hold her down on the bed or floor to do whatever he wanted with her in any position he pleased.

She didn’t dare complain to his face, however. She’d grit her teeth, grin and bear it, listen to every whim he demanded of her if it meant one night of superficial normalcy.

And so she put on her best behavior on the days leading up to the main event. She made dozens of dishes that circulated around chicken (his favorite binge food), she let them have “cuddle time”, with no complaints whatsoever when he insisted on bathing her and dressing her up in stupid pink frilly skirts, and she even gave him little subtle looks with a batting of her eyelashes when he looked down fondly at her good mannerisms and praised her for being such a sweet little birdie.

Eventually, her acting paid off and on the morning of the gala she was merited with a silk red dress that stopped at her upper thigh, ornamented with gold earrings and a 12K necklace to really sell off the look-which was of course wrapped around one of his feathers. Hawks had even hired a makeup artist who was instructed to not ask or say anything to Y/N save for questions about the products, much to her pleasant surprise.

She was still reminded of how much she had to grovel for him every time he rewarded her that afternoon.

“You look stunning, chickadee,” Keigo leaned against the dresser with his arms crossed, and smiled warmly at Y/N. “You’re making her look like a real model, maybe she should take over my job instead. Or, actually, maybe you could stop by my agency and make me all pretty for my next photoshoot.” He directed this last tease at the makeup artist and winked, causing the oblivious employee to giggle and blush.

Ugh, barf. He’s even a sleaze when I’m right here.

Y/N feigned a roll of her eyes, which didn’t go unnoticed by the hero. She could feel his dilated eyes boring into her the rest of the 15 minutes of touch-ups. Eventually everything was done, and Hawks left praise after shameless praise fall from his lips and onto the poor fangirl’s heart as he guided her out the door, a hand on her lower back as he did so.

She took the opportunity to get up and walk to the full-length mirror, admiring how she looked for the first time in ages. Gone were the multi-colored marks that decorated her body as if she were nothing more than a mere canvas for her painter to use. Her eyes seemed a little brighter too, and it wasn’t just the makeup that caused it. She stood a little straighter and squared her shoulders, her chin tilted up more than before while she stared at her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, and she liked it for once.

It was ridiculous, she knew it was to feel so vain but she couldn’t help but bask in her potential freedom for just one night. She looked gorgeous, she felt confident, and she had earned it all on her own.

Cocking her head to the side, she tried to practice a couple smiles to be camera-ready for when the time came. She turned the corners of her lips up, then showed her teeth, and even tried fluffing her hair up sensually. Biting her lip slightly, she threw her head back, causing her curled locks to bounce and lowered her eyelids to look sexy. She giggled at her own stupidity and poses, completely unaware that a certain winged-man had entered the room and leaned against the door for the past couple of minutes, simply watching the little show she put on.

“That's quite a look you’ve got there hun, why don’t you make those faces more often with me?”

She immediately froze, her breath hitching. She didn’t dare look at him in the eye from the mirror.

“I mean, I’m the only one who should be seeing such a slutty expression anyways, right?” He said ever-so casually, hands in his pockets as he slowly strolled up behind her, and she couldn’t help but think as her eyes darted up to meet him in the mirror that the sadistic shit-eating grin on his face didn’t suit so well with his god-like features.

She visibly wilted, her shoulders hunched and head down in contrast to the tall, powerful woman she had felt like mere seconds ago. Her breath quickened as he leaned over her shoulder, grazing his teeth over the sensitive part under her ear, and she bit her lip harshly to stop the squeak that threatened to escape her trembling lips.

“If I had known that a pretty dress and some makeup would make you act like a wanton little whore, I would’ve done this wayyy sooner. I guess you really are just another dumb bimbo bitch who does anything she’s told if she gets to feel important for a night.” He whispered in her ear, resting his head on her shoulder and looking up at her with innocent eyes, ones that imitated the mocking tone of voice he used.

It seemed like he wanted her to feel disgusting, to wilt under his cruel words that he used like knives-knives that were sharpened with his tone and body language, knives that were so intimately and carefully chosen. They worded so that they were used to their full extent to cut and carve through her heart.

“Is that what you are my little songbird, hmm? You wanna be a pretty baby and have everyone’s attention on you? I’m hurt, here I was thinking I was enough for you.” He pouted, and with every word he spoke the grip his hands had around her waist tightened.

She tried to protest but he plowed through her pitiful attempts.

“Hell, if you want some attention so bad and whore yourself out, I should call over some friends! Yeah, we can skip tonight’s gala, would you like that songbird? For me to share you with my friends so they can satiate your whorish needs?” And at his he shook her lightly, his grip around her middle choking her and cutting off her circulation. “N-no, Hawks,” she wheezed out. “I just... liked my makeup, that’s it. I only want you, I promise. I won’t cause any trouble tonight, please don’t call any friends over.”

She looked up at him in the mirror with eyes the size of saucers, blinking away tears and trying her best to show how apologetic she was at her audacity to feel good about herself.

He loosened his arms and straightened up, peering down at her disgustedly. He had absolutely no regrets about the way she sucked in air immediately when he relented, or about the way she frantically brushed the tears from her eyes, trying to preserve her mascara from running. (not that he would’ve minded). She needed to learn her lesson; he controlled her highs and lows. Only he had the permission of holding her fragile emotions in the palm of his hand, and if she didn't want that palm turning into a fist and breaking her, she would do well not to piss him off and treading carefully about flaunting what was meant for his eyes only.

She wanted to lock herself in the bathroom and cry out to her heart's content from being embarrassed and degraded like this. She kept absolutely still however, when she felt his hands lightly tracing the feather on her collarbones. It was an unspoken threat, and when their eyes met once again in the mirror, the way he sized her up confirmed it.

The feather stayed on.

Which brought her back to the present.

Y/N had already downed 3 glasses of champagne while reminiscing about earlier today, something Hawks would’ve surely tutted at. Finding herself bored, she meandered around the bar, keeping close to where he left her.

She scanned the room for her ‘lover’ and found him laughing with a group of his friends, his head thrown back and the charming sound of his deep yet lilted voice carrying through the hall, entrapping anyone who was around.

He certainly had presence, no sense in denying it.

Any girl would’ve been crazy to deny him, and Y/N wished that Hawks had fallen for a girl that didn’t want to deny him out of his hundreds of fangirls a point that was set in stone in Y/N’s mind when she saw a tall brunette clinging to his arm while she shrieked with laughter at whatever stupid story Hawks was telling.

Said fangirl seemed to also have been put under his contagious spell, from the way she so obviously threw herself on his arm and pushed her chest against his side under the pretense of shaking with laughter. Various other parts of her body seemed to be shaking against him too, but he didn’t seem to mind based on the smirk he quickly looked down at her with.

For the second time that night, Y/N wanted to throw up.

Was it jealousy? Negative. Rather, it was frustration that he literally had girls throwing themselves at him, tits hanging out and all but yet he wanted what he knew he couldn’t have. She assumed that it was this mentality of his that landed him at being Number 2, chasing after the seemingly impossible until it was tangible.

It was easier on some days to try to understand his point of view. It was much better than getting lost in the hours pondering what kind of bad karma she inherited from a past life to go through this hell. But on some mornings when she felt stone-cold sober, she remembered that she was a person, not some objective or conquest that he had rightfully won. Deciding to try and take her mind off from the trainwreck that was unfolding in front of her, Y/N aimlessly wandered to the side of the bar and down a grand hallway that was less crowded and had less Hawks.

On either side of the hall, giant bronze frames held the portraits of past heroes and had little scriptures of their accomplishments. Hawks had always talked about how he wanted his name up there, and how one day he was going to do something incredible to have his own face up on the hall of fame. His idol, Endeavor, already has taken place on the wall right next to All Might’s frame, and Y/N looks up and ponders at both of their pictures.

And how befitting is it, that Hawk’s idol is also accused of a sinister and tumultuous family past.

Maybe he doesn’t need to work too hard to follow in the footsteps of the number one hero.

“Quite the hero, Endeavor is. Even though there is controversy about the nature of his past and his redemption efforts, he set many precedents as to how a true hero should act.” Y/N’s head snaps to the right where Edgeshot had just joined her. He wore a navy blue tux with red seams, his trademark mask covering the lower half of his face.

“Yeah, you’d think his admirers would try to follow in the footsteps of changing themselves too,” she muttered bitterly. “I’ve noticed his biggest fans seem to take after his more...old brutish traits rather than the better person he’s trying to be now.”

The masked hero laughed softly, and Y/N looked at him suspiciously.

“What, you don’t think heroes have their own fair share of flaws?” She challenged.

“No no, don’t get me wrong of course. I would be on an inappropriate level of naivety to assume that, considering I’m a part of the whole corrupt system itself. I think, however, that change within a person comes after an extended time of self-reflection. You have to look within yourself and accept that you were wrong in the first place, if you want to change.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment.

“Do you think the villains are ever right? About society brushing the flipside of heroism under the carpet, I mean. It doesn’t matter if the heroes are trying to save people because it's expected of them, if they aren’t actually compassionate about their cause then is there really a point?” She asked desperately, hoping he could understand her.

Edgeshot hesitated for a moment before answering.

“In my years of experience,” he said quietly, still looking up at Endeavor’s painting, “the ones who have at heart a solid reason for acting the way they do are most always justified. It may not always be a good reason, but a foundation always gives way to a justification that can be argued for.”

All of a sudden, Y/N gasped as white hot pain sliced through her sternum. She looked down and saw the red feather on her necklace quivering as a fine line of red sprouted from the cut it made.

“Are you alright?” Edgeshot asked, looking fairly alarmed, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

“Yes, of course! My necklace is just a little sharp, a little edge just nicked me that's all.” She said shrilly, already backing away from the concerned hero. Turning on her heel, she picked up the hem of her dress and tottered out of the hall, not paying any mind to the vermillion plumage that drifted down her chest, past her waist and eventually clinging onto her leg, making little nips and stabs here and there.

Blood was pounding through her head as she navigated the way back to where Hawks had left her to be. Her palms were sweaty and she was sure her hair was becoming messy as she whipped her head around, attempting to look past tall heads and bodies that blocked her way to the bar.

Shitshitshitshit god please don’t let him be there already please please please-

But it seemed as though god wasn’t in a merciful mood, because lo and behold, the raptor was leaning against the long granite island with a glass in his hand.

He seemed to be casually grinning, swirling a maroon substance in his cup and choking it down leisurely, but as Y/N drew closer she knew-as expected- he seemed off.

The smell of alcohol was nauseating around him, he must have been drinking something strong. His wings, although lightly flapping behind him, were pointed at the edges and shaking lightly. His eyes were completely dilated, and were shifting around the room until they settled on her meek figure rushing up to him.

“Hey there birdy, long time no see. Did you have a good chat with Edgeshot? I’m sure you both enjoyed talking shit about me behind my back.” Y/N winced at how charismatic and booming his laugh was after his ominous remark. It was too carefree, a complete cover-up of how she knew he was actually feeling, and that scared her the most.

“Hawks I-”

“Keigo, sweetheart, did you forget my name already after talking with just one person? Damn, I’m hurt, guess keeping you locked up at home was the right decision after all if you’re acting like such a stone-cold bitch now.”

She stared up at him, openmouthed and thoroughly panicked now. He was talking too much, he was going to expose himself and her-

Wait. Why is she covering for him? Wouldn’t it be better if he blabbed everything else so people could realize what he’s doing? Maybe someone would intervene and save her!

But it seemed like he was three steps ahead of her and had already figured that out, because his face flushed slightly and his eyes darkened and narrowed, with lips set in a flat line. When Y/N saw this change, she tried to back away but he quickly grabbed her hand and yanked her out the room and through the exit doors. It was all happening so fast, she could hear various people call out to Hawks but he plowed through them so fast that she didn’t have time to even process that they were out of the building and in the air.

She screamed as he soared to an even higher altitude, clinging onto his neck for dear life. The wind whipped past her face, stinging her cheeks with the frigid cold and water particles that embedded on her lashes. Hawks was laughing hysterically the entire time he gained height, his talons ripping through her dress and piercing her skin, even overlapping the previous cuts his feather had made earlier.

“S-stop, what’re you doing, are you fucking crazy?” She shrieked, her words losing volume as the air was ripped out of her lungs.

“KEIGO, its KEIGO you stupid fucking cunt!” he screamed in her face. His arms loosened around her waist, and suddenly Y/N was falling, falling, falling straight for the asphalt.

She couldn’t even turn her head as her limp body plummeted down for imminent death. Her lungs begged for oxygen, fear settling like lead in her stomach, but the second she closed her eyes for what she thought was the last time, (Hawks) Keigo swooped down and yanked her back into his sinister embrace by her hair.

Ignoring the ripping strands she felt in her skull, she flailed around in midair trying to grab onto something-she reached up to grab his foot but he noticed and kicked her square in the face. Y/N had never before felt such terror and pain, mentally or physically.

Damn her pride, she wants to live for god's sake.

“Keigo,” she sobbed, remembering just in time to use his real name lest he smash her teeth in again, “please put me down, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I talked to Edgeshot but I swear it wasn’t anything bad or about you.” The warm blood streaming down her nose began to harden on her upper lip from the chilly altitude they had reached.

Abruptly, he shifted his grip and pulled her up by her hair (she winced at that painful adjustment) so that he could hold her around her waist now.

They had to have been at least 200 or so feet in the air. The pair had cleared their way through some clouds and could clearly see the full moon right in front of them. It was deathly quiet except for Y/N’s labored breathing through her fractured nose, and her fear racked even further as she looked up at Hawks and realized that he was simply staring down at her with completely dilated eyes that narrowed and gleamed at her expression. He truly looked like a bird of prey right now, a predator that was forcing her to play the part of his prey, a point that solidified when he suddenly wrapped one hand around her throat to feel her heartbeat that thumped like a rabbits’.

The light from the moon reflected off his back, causing his front to be completely shadowed so that the contours of his sharp face seemed ever more looming and dangerous. Both of them stayed suspended in the air for a minute or two like that, Y/N not daring to speak unless he granted her a sign to repent.

After a long, painstakingly suspenseful minute of studying her face, he finally growled “We’re going home.”

It seemed to take only a mere couple of minutes for the Number Two hero to travel halfway across the city. Y/N barely had time to try and drink in the beautiful colors that accented the winding streets and buildings below her, knowing that it would most probably be a long time before she saw anything else that resembled freedom again.

He finally began to descend rapidly, forcing her to cling onto his jacket and shove her face into the crook of his neck to avoid getting whiplash. Peeking through her lashes, she recognized the balcony floor of his penthouse rushing underneath their feet. Dread and anxiety surged through her veins as he finally landed and postiviley threw her off of him and onto the wooden floor. She slid a good couple of feet and skinned her legs in the process, unable to stop her momentum as she slammed back into a lamp.

Dazed, she saw stars as she rubbed her aching head. Unfortunately she didn’t see him, rushing over to her the second she landed.

He grabbed her jaw tight and wrenched her bleary eyes to look up at him.

What he saw was beautiful.

A trembling mess beneath him, makeup runny and complemented with blood that flowed from her nose like an eternal stream. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way she kept flinching any time he shifted; it made his pants tighten and caused his teeth to grit in what he measured to be the absolute last bits of self restraint he had for the night. He had truly ruined her, and he internally patted himself on the back at his work.

Was he mad? Yes, wholly and completely at her betrayal of his orders.

Did he regret losing his temper? Absolutely not. In fact, if you ask him, he should get mad at her more often like this. If it merited her pliant and vulnerable being, then who was he to deny such pleasure? Fuck he should’ve done this from the start- blowing up at mild disobediance instead of acting like a doting, patient boyfriend.

“You alive?” he roughly shook her head and her teeth chattered inside her skull while he did so.

“Yes,” she whispered, mouth popped open by his gloved fingers as he shoved a digit inside her warm and wet cavern. It was embarrassing how drool seeped through her lips and dribbled down her chin, but humility was the least concerning factor in her environment at the moment.

“Good. After acting like such a tramp you better fucking be. I told you one thing,” and he slapped her for added emphasis to his frustration, “can you repeat what I told you? Or are you so braindead that you can’t remember the one order I gave you when I trusted you to sit still and look pretty like a good little bitch?”

“Nnngh, no I rem-I remember.” Y/N panted out, attempting to talk through puckered lips and drool. “You told me to stay at the bar and not to move.”

“Exactly. So what part of that was so hard to understand, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, looking deranged.

“I just got bored, that’s all. I wanted to talk to another person…” Even though she didn’t finish her sentence, Hawks understood her perfectly.

I wanted to talk to another person apart from you.

He let out a mocking laugh, stretching his arms over his head to hide his shaking fists. Rage swept through his body like wildfire, licking up his throat and cheeks. His face was flushed and unreadable to Y/N as he sauntered around the couch and plopped down on it, spreading his legs to seem as uncouth as possible.

She sat shivering on the floor, unsure of if he wanted her to follow him or wither away on the floor like a mutt.

As he sighed loudly however, her body immediately tensed as though bracing for another painful impact. She daringly peeked over her shoulder and saw the back of his head protruding from the black and red leather couch. Lazily flicking his wrist up to a height where she could see, he vaguely beckoned her over without saying a word.

Immediately she scampered over to him and situated herself at his feet (where she belonged). Her eyes were downcast, and he begrudgingly accepted it as a form of submission on her part. No sense in beating the disobedience out of her now if she already knows what she did wrong.

Hawks heaved out another heavy sigh and let his head fall backwards. On one hand, he was slightly drunk and his head was killing him-he just wanted to go to sleep and forget today ever happened. However, there was a problem that was contributing to his growing migraine, and that problem was sitting right in front of him, practically kneeling at his feet for mercy. More than sleep, he wanted to take care of said issue and call it a night, so he decided to skip the sweet talk and warm up.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, kid. I’m gonna close my eyes and by the time I open them you better have already thought of a way to make tonight up to me, and you better have already put that plan in action. Then, we’re going to bed and when you wake up you’ll regret the day you even thought of talking to anyone apart from me, since you seem to have forgotten who’s been coddling your ass all this time.” He sneered, relishing at the way Y/N’s face went pale.

True to his word, he closed his eyes, glad to see his last view as the pathetic bitch who was about to service him. The feel of slight fumbling on his zipper made him feel even more drunk and giddy as it was pulled down. Maybe the entire evening wasn’t a complete wash after all.

Yeah, he should take her out a lot more.

[idreamofplaid]

The Only Thing That’s Real

Square Filled: Fix It Fic

Characters: Sam x witch!Reader; Dean; Lucifer

Word Count: 8802

Summary: The reader falls in love with Sam during his darkest time, and she’s willing to do anything to help him.

Warnings: Non Con (discussed not depicted); heavy angst

A/N: This is for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo. It’s early Season 7 Sam during the time he’s hallucinating Lucifer. It is the longest one shot I’ve ever written, but it didn’t feel right to break it into smaller pieces.

Thanks to @petitgateau911 for being my beta and @thinkinghardhardlythinking for the conversations about Sam and what would be true to his character. Hugs to you both.

The motel wasn’t much; the places Dean stayed never were. His car was another story. It was impressive, and when you saw it parked outside this latest no star establishment, you knew you were in the right place.

You parked in the space next to the Impala, made your way to room 16, and knocked lightly on the green door with the peeling paint. Dean was expecting you. He answered quickly and stepped outside closing the door behind him.

He hugged you and held on a beat longer than he usually would. When he let go, you scanned his face looking for some clue about the situation but couldn’t get a solid read on him. He knew what you were doing, acknowledged your look with a nod, and said, “Thanks for coming.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t? Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” You shifted the bag on your shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like this.” That worried you because you had seen and heard a lot when it came to Dean. Usually, he called on you in need of your witch skills. You’d always had just the right spell for him, but your instinct told you this situation was something else.

Dean’s eyes clouded over for a second. “Sam’s not doin’ so good. He... needs somebody to watch him.” Dean dragged his fingers down his cheek. “He doesn’t know what’s real, Y/N.”

You tried to mask your reaction from Dean. Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this; this was bad. “I see.” You eyed the door behind Dean, imagining what you’d find behind it. 

Dean blew out a breath. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come here. This is too much to ask you to deal with.”

You put your hand on Dean’s arm to settle him. “You called me because just maybe I can help. At the very least, I can make sure he’s not alone and give you a chance to take care of what you need to.” With a little pat, you let your hand drop from Dean’s arm. “Why don’t you give me the short version of what’s happening and then introduce me to this little brother you’ve been hiding?”

The story Dean told was horrifying. Sam had been locked in a cage with the devil in hell. “He has nightmares, Y/N. All the time. He’s been having them ever since his memories of hell came back to him. The things he says in his sleep make my blood run cold.” Dean made a fist, rested his chin on it, and closed his eyes. 

You moved closer and put your arm around him. “I know this is hard for you, Dean.” He dropped his fist and started shaking his head.

“He’s my little brother. I’m supposed to take care of him, and I can’t help him.” Dean took a couple of steps away from you so your arm was no longer around him. You knew Dean well enough to know he felt like he didn’t deserve the comfort because in his mind he’d failed his brother.

“Dean, you are doing everything you can; you always have.” He bent his head back, looked at the sky, let out a deep breath, and then let it fall forward again until his chin was almost touching his chest.

“Y/N, I’m starting to believe things happened to him that the demons torturing me when I was in hell only threatened to do. Just remembering the threat of it kept me awake at night for years after I got out. Now, he’s seeing things. Seeing Lucifer. And Lucifer taunts him, reminds of him of what he did and tells him he’s going to do it again.”

Dean started to pace. “Sam gets this terrified look in his eyes sometimes, and I know he’s seeing Lucifer, hearing him. Sam begs him not to do it again, and he talks about how cold it is inside. He’s afraid of the cold.” Dean chewed at his lip, and looked for a minute like he might start crying. 

“They tear you apart in hell, piece by piece, then put you back together to do it again. It hurts more than there are even words to describe. They mess with your mind. That’s worse than the physical pain. They make you believe all kinds of shit that isn’t real. But I think Lucifer did something to Sam even worse than all that.”

You closed the distance between the two of you and put your hand on Dean’s arm again. “What do you think happened to Sam?”

Dean shook his head harder than he had before. “No. I can’t. I can’t say it out loud. I don’t want to.” 

“Okay, Dean. You don’t have to say it.” You tried to calm him with your voice, but it was having little effect. This was bad for both of them. You felt your stomach drop, knowing how they both had suffered. No one should hurt like that. “How about you introduce me to Sam now? Let me see him.”

Dean gave you a silent nod then turned and opened the door. You followed him into the mostly darkened room. What you saw in that room caused your heart to leap up into your throat; the sight in front of you created an emptiness in the center of your being and fanned to life a dormant flame inside you. Dean’s brother was sitting on the edge of the bed, head and shoulders slumped over. He was powerfully built, taller and with wider shoulders than even Dean’s. His hair was falling over those shoulders and his face. You held your breath for a second or two. You could sense his soul, felt connected to him and the pain he was bravely trying to manage. This man was beautiful, and he was broken.

Dean closed the door behind you and said, “Sammy, there’s somebody I want you to meet.” Sam slowly raised his head. His eyes were haunted, the horrors he held in his mind reflected there. When he saw you, he tried to sit up a little straighter. “Sam, this is Y/N. She’s an old friend of mine.”

Sam attempted a smile. “Hi. Did Dean ask you to come babysit me?” There was nothing bitter or angry in his question. 

You weren’t sure how to best answer him, deciding to go with at least part of the truth. “That’s not exactly how he put it. He said you weren’t feeling so good, and you know how Dean worries; he didn’t want to leave you alone. All these years I’ve known him, you’ve been the mysterious brother I’ve never met. I wanted to change that.” 

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

The first night passed without incident. You’d taken a chance and brought along a chessboard, thinking maybe Sam and his Ivy League mind might like the game. It was a good move; it gave you both something to focus on other than the awkward situation you were in together.

Sam was nothing like Dean, but he had his own kind of charm. He could carry on a conversation in a way that made you feel like you were the most interesting person in the world, and he could talk about any number of things. The two of you discussed everything from favorite childhood books to Spanish architecture, and the conversation was easy.

It was almost impossible, while at the same time nearly natural, to imagine Sam as a hunter. Dean got a certain thrill and satisfaction from hunting. You didn’t sense any of that in Sam, but he certainly had the mind to put the pieces of a puzzle together and solve a case. The way he was built he could take on any monster, and you couldn’t help but notice his eyes were beautiful. They were a mosaic of green, gold, and amber. You could have easily indulged in staring at them endlessly; you appreciated and were drawn to the depth you saw in those eyes. 

You passed a comfortable evening together, and when it was time for bed; Sam took the first turn in the bathroom. That left you alone for a few minutes to gather your thoughts. So far things were going well, but you knew that could change in an instant. You centered and grounded yourself, then cast a quick protection spell over the room. It wouldn’t be long before you would find out that nothing could protect Sam from his own mind. 

Sam slept peacefully in one of the double beds and you in the other until the first faint light of the sunrise began to filter through the golden orange curtains casting a tinted light over the room. That’s when Sam started to yell and plead. “No. No. Not again. Please.”

The pitiful sounds he was making tore you from your sleep, and you went to him. “Sam. Sam.” When calling his name didn’t work, you lightly touched his shoulder. He bolted awake and grabbed your wrist, wrapping his huge hand around it. You knew he could break your wrist, but you didn’t feel the slightest twinge of fear. It was something else entirely you were feeling. You wanted to protect him from whatever it was that was tormenting him and take away his tremendous pain.

You tried speaking to him softly. “Sam, it’s okay. Nothing can hurt you here. It’s alright.”

He looked at you with wide and confused eyes. “Y/N?” Sam looked down at his hand that was still grasping your wrist. He let go. “I’m...I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” He sounded ashamed of what he’d done.

“No, Sam. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.” You wiggled your fingers and swiveled your wrist. “See? Everything still works.” He watched your motions, and they appeared to reassure him a little. Sam pushed himself up into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and scanned the room. He still seemed a little disoriented. “What...what did I do?” He looked to you for the answer. 

You wanted to put your hand on him again, soothe him with your touch, but now that he was awake; you didn’t do that. You tried to comfort him with the tone of your voice instead. “You were talking in your sleep. It sounded like...like someone was hurting you. Do you want to talk about it, Sam?”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “No. It’s...I’m okay.”

Two days later, Dean still wasn’t back. He texted everyday to check in, and you replied back with a confidence you didn’t feel that you had everything under control. Sam had slept fitfully both nights, but nothing else had happened as bad as that first morning until Sam completely cracked in front of you. 

You were playing a game of chess, and as near as you could tell, Sam was about three moves away from claiming your king when he jumped out of his chair to stand in front of you. His arms were outstretched in a protective gesture, blocking something that wasn’t there from getting to you, and he was talking to the empty space. “Stay away from her. Don’t you dare try to touch her.”

You stood up behind him. “Sam?”

He reached back and circled one of his arms around your waist and pulled you close against his back. “I won’t let him near you, Y/N. I promise. I WILL NOT let him hurt you.”

“Who, Sam? Who do you think is going to hurt me?” You reached for his shoulder, as you had during that first nightmare, and lay your hand on it trying to bring him back to reality again. 

Sam’s voice took on a hard steel edge. “It’s Lucifer. He thinks he can do to you what he did to me, but I will NEVER let that happen.” Then Sam started to talk to the empty air, his voice full of conviction. “You can do anything you want to me. You already have. Drag me back to hell and do it all again, but you won’t get to her. I. Won’t. Let. You.”

You started to rub the back of Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, there’s no one there.”

“Y/N, get back!” He started walking backwards, pushing you along behind him until you hit the wall. Then Sam turned and wrapped his arms around you, shielding you with his body. 

He was pressed firmly against you, and it took some effort to push him back far enough to get your hands on each side of his face. “Sam, look at me.” You positioned his face so he was looking directly into your eyes. “Look in my eyes.” You saw the instant his hazel eyes focused on you. “That’s it, Sam. We’re fine. No one’s here. Just us.”

Sam took a couple of steps back; he looked around the room, and then he slowly backed all the way to the bed and sat down. His eyes met yours, and he swallowed hard before he said anything. “I’m sorry.” His words were soft and tortured; you couldn’t keep your distance from him. You joined him on the bed, sitting so close that your leg almost touched his.

You put your hand on his cheek again, much more softly this time, knowing full well that he knew where he was and realized what you were doing. “Sam, you don’t need to apologize to me. You haven’t done anything wrong. Tell me what you see. Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

Sam’s eyes searched yours, like he was trying to determine how much he could tell you. He reached his decision, and he let you in.  “He taunts me. Reminds me of everything he did to me when I was in hell.” Sam took a long pause and shifted his eyes away from yours. You lowered your hand and put it over his. He rotated his hand so he could close his fingers over yours. Now, he had something to hold onto.

“He says he’s going to do it all again. Says he loves the way I try to hold out, makes it more satisfying when I scream.” Sam shuddered. You rubbed your fingers gently over the back of his hand, hoping it gave him some comfort. Sam closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he said in a strained voice, “He tells me I’m still in hell; I’m with him. He lets me believe you’re real to make it worse when he takes you away.” Tears were shining in his eyes, threatening to fall.

You tightened your fingers around his. “I’m real, Sam. I’m here with you. No one else. Just me.” Slowly, you let go of his hand so you could comb your fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his face. “I’m the only thing that’s real, Sam. He closed his eyes again, tighter this time than the first and nodded. You put your arms around him and hugged him close. “Do you feel that, Sam? It’s real. You’re safe.”

Sam turned toward you and wrapped his arms around you. He was struggling to steady his breath. “Tell me again that you’re here.”

You slipped your fingers into his hair and held the back of his head. “I am, Sam. I’m here.”

That night you slept in the same bed; Sam held you, and he slept without nightmares or hallucinations. You listened to him breathe, felt the warmth of his body next to your back, and the feelings you had for him grew deeper and took root in your soul. You whispered into the darkened room, “You’re not alone, Sam. You never will be.”

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

Your life went back to normal when you went back home, but it was forever changed. You couldn’t get the image of a tall, handsome, and troubled hunter out of your mind. At night, you lay awake in bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering if Sam could sleep. It was one of those sleepless nights that you finally threw back the covers and got out of bed intent upon doing something to answer the questions that kept spinning through your head. 

You took your scrying bowl from the cabinet where you stored it and filled it with water. Your altar was still set up from your last ritual; the candles were still there as well as a place for the bowl. You placed the bowl on the altar and lit the candles surrounding it. The water caught the light from the candles and reflected it up to you. You concentrated on the light and let your vision go hazy. 

A vision of Sam appeared on the water. His palms were pressed against both sides of his head. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, the way you had seen them in person, and Dean was standing next to him. He was saying something to Sam that you couldn’t make out, but Sam dropped his hands and opened his eyes. They were wide open now and filled with fear. He backed away from his brother, clearly scared and trying to get away from something that was terrifying him.

The image of Sam disappeared, and you sat on the floor in front of your altar stunned. You wrapped your arms around your body and hugged yourself. What had you thought you would see? You’d seen the condition he was in for yourself, and it hadn’t just mercifully disappeared. For the rest of the night, you didn’t move from that spot. You sat there in the dark and watched the candles burn down.

By the time morning came, you were exhausted. Fortunately, you had been your own boss since you left the graphic design company you worked for two years ago and gone freelance, but you still had clients and work to do. With that in mind, you were making a strong pot of coffee in the hope it would keep you awake enough to deliver the designs you’d promised. 

Your plan was good, but it wasn’t working. You were distracted and preoccupied. For the third time since the sun came up, you picked up your cell phone with the intention of calling, or at least texting, Dean. What were you going to say? I can’t get your brother out of my mind since I managed to fall in love with him after spending three days with him. Or maybe, I saw him in a bowl of water last night, and I’m worried about him. No, you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter how much you felt otherwise; your life was not actually connected to Sam’s. Dammit. You put your phone down on the counter with a thud, and snatched open a cabinet to get a mug. 

You had work to do, bills had to be paid. With that in mind, you grabbed the coffee pot and started to fill your mug. The memory of Sam’s hazel eyes flooded your mind; you didn’t stop pouring when you should have, and your cup overflowed, creating a huge mess. You mopped up the spilled coffee and threw the dish towel into the sink with a frustrated sigh.

As it turned out, you didn’t have to pretend to be productive for very long because by mid morning Dean was calling you. As soon as you saw his name on your caller ID, your heart started to pound. You snatched up the phone. “Dean?” Maybe he heard the panic in your voice, maybe he didn’t because he had worries of his own.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry to bother you again.” You wanted to interrupt him, wanted to blurt out all your questions about Sam, but you didn’t, even though Dean was taking way too long to get to the point in your opinion. “Do you think you could spare some time away again? I wouldn’t ask, but Sam...he’s getting worse. I’m afraid he might hurt himself, Y/N, because he can’t take it anymore. He’s getting more lost in his head, and...he’s asking for you.”

“Asking for me?” You sat down, and your already fast beating heart started to beat a little faster. 

You heard Dean sigh over the phone. “Yeah. Whenever he’s out of it, sometimes he thinks you’re here. Then when he realizes you aren’t, he gets upset.” Another sigh. “I don’t know what else to do, Y/N.”

Dean might not know, but you did. “I’ll come. Where are you?”

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

Bobby was another person Dean had mentioned over the years. He’d never said much about his house though, and it was a sight to behold. Once you got past the yard and more junk cars than you had ever seen, the inside was also remarkable. Here, you found more books than you had ever seen outside a library. Practically every surface was covered with them. 

Dean gave you a bit of a tour of the place while he updated you on Sam. “I don’t think he’s sleeping anymore. We’ve been in some tight spots, but this has me knocked on my ass.” For Dean to be admitting anything of the kind was a rare occurrence, and it scared you. The final stop on the tour was an upstairs bedroom at the end of the hall where Sam was staying. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, much as he had been the first time you ever saw him. Only now, there were dark circles under his pain filled eyes, and it was clear what Dean had said was true. Sam had barely slept in a long time, if at all.

He was hugging himself just like you had on the floor in front of your altar, and he smiled when he saw you. You crossed the room, sat beside him, and gave him a lingering hug. When you parted, Sam’s smile got bigger. “Y/N, you’re here.”

You returned his smile. “Yeah, I’m here. It’s gonna be okay now.” 

 Dean was still standing in the doorway, but you had forgotten him until he spoke. “I’m just gonna go.” You turned to acknowledge what he’d said, and he was staring intently at you and his brother. His gaze travelled from you to Sam and back. He tilted his head in your direction then left, closing the door behind him. 

All of your attention went back to Sam. “When was the last time you slept?”

He was slow in answering you, but once more he let you in. “It’s been a day or two; I don’t know exactly. Time is kinda running together.” You noticed the bed you were sitting on was neatly made. Had he even tried to sleep recently, or had he just given up? 

You rubbed your hand up and down his arm to soothe him, and you felt some of the tension leave his body at your touch. You did this for a few minutes then told him, “Sam, I’m going to go make you some tea. I think it will help you sleep.” You’d come prepared, bringing some herbs with you that might help him.

Sam reached for your hand as you started to stand. “Don’t go yet. Stay here with me.”

You lowered yourself back to the bed. “Okay, but I want you to try to rest.” You fluffled the pillows and said to him, “Lie back.” Sam hesitated. You kneeled in front of him and took both his hands in yours. “Do you see him now, Sam?”

His eyes darted to the corner of the room. “Yeah. He doesn’t go away. That’s why I can’t sleep. He won’t let me.” There was a lump in your throat, but you weren’t going to cry. That wasn’t what Sam needed right now. 

“Well, I’m not going away either. I’m going to lie down with you, and I’m going to stay next to you. Alright?” 

Sam was looking at your hands joined together. “Okay. I just want you with me.”

You settled back on the pillows with Sam and guided his head down to your shoulder. You slipped your fingers through his hair over and over, resisting the urge to kiss his head. “Try to close your eyes. I won’t let anything happen to you, Sam.” 

After several minutes of lying there in the quiet stroking Sam’s hair, you shifted to take your phone out of your pocket. Sam sat up quickly, jolted out of the peace you’d given him. “Don’t go, Y/N.” There was no fear in his eyes now. It had been replaced by an empty resignation, and that was worse. 

You cupped his cheek in your hand. “I told you I wouldn’t go, Sam. I’m not.” You held up your phone so he could see it. “I’m just going to text Dean and ask him to bring me what I need to make the tea.” You could see Sam thinking, then he put his head back on your shoulder and draped his arm over your waist to hold you close. 

Moving as little as possible, you typed out your text to Dean. Bring me the herbs I put in the kitchen,  a pot of hot water, and a teacup. 

In a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. This time, you told Sam before you moved. “I’m going to go answer the door. I’ll be right back.”

Dean was standing on the other side, holding a tray filled with everything you’d asked him to bring. You put your hands on the tray to take it from him, and Dean whispered, “How is he?”

“He’s quiet, but it isn’t good.” You had been rolling an idea around in your head, debating if you should do it. Acknowledging Sam was in bad shape out loud helped you make up your mind. “Dean, I want you to see if Bobby has a book on Medieval Italian witchcraft, ideally a grimoire. If he does, bring it to me.” 

He glanced past you to get a look at Sam. “Are you going to do a spell?” 

Saying it was a spell was a bit of an understatement. “I’m going to help him, Dean. Find that book.”

You returned to Sam and put the tray down on the bedside table. You opened the large plastic bag filled with smaller bags of herbs and selected the ones you wanted. You sprinkled some of each herb in the cup then poured hot water over them. Sam was watching you. The look on his face told you he was more interested in making sure you didn’t disappear than in what you were doing. 

The tea steeped for a couple of minutes, then you gave it to Sam. He wrapped both his hands around the cup and asked, “What is it?”

You sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s something to quiet your mind so you can sleep.”

Sam took a sip from the cup that looked so tiny in his hands. “I’m lucky I know a witch like you.” Then he took another bigger drink.

He knew what you were. Had Dean talked about you over the years the same way he’d talked about Sam, or had Sam figured it out on his own? Had Dean told him that you were a hereditary witch with a lineage that dated back five generations? That made you powerful, and you had never been more thankful for that than right now. “Did Dean tell you?”

Sam drank some more. His voice was sounding a little stronger. “I knew he consulted a witch on some of our cases, and it looks like you know your herbs. It’s you that he went to.”

“Does that change your opinion of me? Dean isn’t very fond of witches in general.” You were nervous waiting for his answer in spite of your strong intuition backed by five generations that told you not to be.

“I’m not my brother.” His eyes met yours and something passed silently between you.

You took the now empty cup from him. “I noticed,” you answered softly.

He reached for your arm, and you felt a warmth spread through your body when he touched you. “You have a talent, Y/N. You’ve helped people; you’re helping me.”

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

It was getting late into the night when you heard a soft knock at the door. You checked Sam before you got up. He was still sleeping. Dean had found exactly what you were hoping he’d find. It was a grimoire, and it looked old. He held it out to you. “You read Italian?”

You took the book from him. “As a matter of fact I do.” Your grandmother had taught you the family tradition of Italian witchcraft and learning the language was part of your training.

“Bobby says that’s not modern Italian,” Dean said, explaining his doubt that you could translate it.

“I can still read it.” Your grandmother had been thorough in her lessons.

Dean noticed his brother sleeping, and a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He looked back to you and down at the book. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You ignored him and proceeded with your next request. “Will you stay with him while I take a shower and get ready for bed?”

“You’re staying in here tonight?” Dean was trying to figure out exactly what kind of relationship you had with his brother. 

“Yes, I told him I wouldn’t leave him.” You looked over your shoulder at Sam and clutched the book you were holding a little tighter. It had to have the answer you needed in it.

You turned back to Dean, and his eyes locked on yours. “Thank you, Y/N.”

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

You stayed up half the night reading the grimoire, searching for a spell that you were beginning to fear was only a legend, a story your grandmother told you when you were a girl just like she’d told you the story of Cinderella. Maybe it was just another romantic story. She had told you about a spell that had the power to cure anything. It had been created by a witch during the time of the great plague to save the man she loved. Your grandmother had made you the woman you were, the one who would do anything to save Sam. You could still hear her voice echoing in your head. “There is no greater power than love. It can protect. It can transform. It can heal.”

You were almost to the end of the grimoire and losing hope when you reached a page titled “Restoration”. Excitement began to bubble up inside you when you read the description. This was it. The list of ingredients was surprisingly simple; you’d brought everything you would need with you in your collection of herbs. All you needed to do was add a little sugar from Bobby’s kitchen. You read the directions for casting the spell, took a deep breath, and read them again to make sure you’d understood correctly. Your grandmother never told you that part.

All that is required to the diminish the ailment of your lover is your love. During the act of sexual union, focus your intention. Whatever afflicts him will be diminished by half of its force being transferred to you. If the gods have smiled upon you, he will return your love. And, should he love you in return, the affliction will be not only diminished but abolished altogether.

The weight of the words settled over you. You looked at Sam; he was still sleeping beside you undisturbed. If you took half of his mental anguish, he could at least function. He would no longer be living on the brink of a total breakdown, that should it come, might take him from you forever. You traced the line of his jaw with your fingertip; he didn’t stir. Did you love him enough to see the devil? Yes.

You made your way down to the kitchen, careful not to turn on any lights and alert anyone to your movements. Everything you needed was there as you had expected it to be. You crushed up the needed herbs, added the sugar, put it all in some water, and drank the potion. You would gladly sacrifice yourself for Sam, and you would be ready at the right time. You made a silent plea to the goddess that the right time would come soon.

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

You managed to get a couple hours of sleep before you woke and discovered Sam was no longer in bed next to you. You ran for the door and almost collided into Sam coming back into the room. He was dressed in a blue and white plaid shirt, and the emptiness was gone from his eyes. His smile was so big it deepened his dimples and made him so handsome you almost couldn’t breathe. “Hey, Y/N. You want to get some breakfast?”

“Sam, are you…?” The light in his eyes was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He moved closer to you, so close he was only inches away. “I’m okay. For the first time, in a very long time, I feel okay.” His eyes lingered on yours, then he cupped your cheek in his hand and for several seconds you were lost in the depths of his eyes, a place you would gladly stay forever. Then Sam touched his lips to yours, and it was the softest kiss anyone had ever given you in your life. 

He pulled away, but not too far. He was still holding your face in his hands and looking into your eyes. “Kiss me again, Sam.” You parted your lips when his mouth touched yours, and he accepted the invitation. Sam’s tongue circled around yours, exploring your mouth and discovering the way you taste. You put your arms around him, wanting to hold onto him and the moment. When he felt your arms go around him, Sam deepened the kiss. 

You were nearly breathless when the kiss ended. Sam took your hand in his. “Come downstairs with me? We can have our first breakfast together.” It wasn’t lost on you that he’d said “first”. 

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

In all the time you’d known him, you never knew Dean had such a way with eggs. You caught him looking at Sam and you throughout breakfast. When you got up to take your plate to the sink, Dean saw his opportunity and followed you. “What did you do? He hasn’t been out of that room in days.”

“I gave him some tea to clear his mind, and I stayed with him.” You stacked the dishes in the sink to give your hands something to do, very conscious of Dean closely scrutinizing you. He was trying to figure out what it was that you weren’t telling him. Now wasn’t the time to say it was your feelings for Sam that were helping him more than anything. It was then that the idyllic reprieve ended. 

Sam sank to the floor and curled in on himself. “Please, I can’t again. It already hurts so much. So cold. Hurts.”

You felt a pain shoot through your heart, and you lowered yourself to the floor beside Sam. You ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him, but he didn’t acknowledge you were there. It wasn’t helping this time.

You stood up and turned to Dean. “Help me get him back upstairs.”

Dean nearly had to carry Sam up the stairs, he was so unsteady on his feet. Once back in the room you were sharing with Sam, Dean settled his brother on the bed. You needed to get that spell cast as soon as possible if you could make Sam coherent and strong enough to consent to having sex with you. He’d never consent to you taking his pain, so you were going to keep that part to yourself. 

Sam was shaking when you crawled onto the bed next to him. His eyes were closed, and you could have cried with relief when he said your name. “Y/N?”

“Yes, Sam, it’s me.” You longed to touch him, to make it better.

He opened his eyes, and you saw the recognition in them along with the brokenness. “I’m scared, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close; he lay his head on the center of your chest, and you held him. “You’re okay, Sam. I promise it’s going to be okay.” Love was indeed the most powerful magic. It had made him better every time he had been near you so far, and you waited for it to work again.

Eventually the shaking stopped; he was calm in your arms. Images of the way he’d looked cowering on the kitchen floor invaded your mind. I love you, Sam. You couldn’t say the words, but they were right there in your mind along with those pictures of him that tore your heart to pieces. 

You let him know what peace he could while you battled with an inner struggle. The last thing you wanted to do was shatter that peace, but you had an awful suspicion. You needed to know, considering what you were about to do. 

“Sam?” You whispered his name quietly, and he stirred in your arms. “Tell me about the cold.”

He didn’t say anything. It was quiet, so quiet the silence hung heavy over you like a weight you could feel pressing down on your shoulders. Then Sam spoke in an unsteady whisper. “I’ve never told anyone.”

You moved your hand to the back of his head to hold it. “You know you’re safe with me, Sam, don’t you? You know you can tell me anything.”

A few more seconds passed and Sam started to breathe out through his mouth in ragged little gasps. “It’s...it’s...Lu...Lucifer. The way he feels when...when….” 

“It’s okay, Sam. Take your time. Breathe. I’m right here.” You tried to prepare yourself for what he was about to say, but that was impossible.

“When he...f...forces himself inside me.” The pain that sliced through you was more acute than if the blade of a sword had cut into you. You squeezed your eyes closed and listened to him go on.

“He did it so many times.” You couldn’t see Sam’s face, and for once you were glad you couldn’t, unsure if you could hold yourself together if you saw the expression there. “It tore at me, and I bled. But that’s not what hurt so much.” You tried to steel yourself; you had to be strong, had to fight the wave of nausea you were feeling. “It was the cold inside me, so cold it burned.”

Several more seconds passed that grew into a minute. He was done. He wasn’t going to say anything else. You knew. All you could do was continue to hold onto him; you couldn’t make that go away. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” You kissed the top of his head and let your tears fall quietly into his hair. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, how long the two of you had been like that. Sam hadn’t looked at you once, his head bowed with a shame that wasn’t his to bear. He had put his arms around you at one point and held onto you tightly as if you were his touchstone with the present and reality. His grasp had loosened but his arms were still there when he said, “Why are you still here, Y/N?”

You rested your cheek on top of his head. “Because I want to help you.”

“Why? Why would you want to help me? I’m dirty.” Sam finally raised his head to look at you. His soul was in his eyes, and it was heartbreakingly sad. How had such a beautiful soul survived what he’d been through? 

“Sam, no. You aren’t.” You cupped his cheek, holding his face in your hand. 

Sam’s voice took on an edge of anguished anger. “He said no one would ever want me, would ever want anything to do with me.” Sam hung his head again, the anguish winning.

Gently, you tilted his head up until his eyes met yours. “I do. I want to be with you, Sam.” You touched your lips to his, so softly it was barely a kiss. It was such a different kind of kiss from the one he had given you that morning.

When you pulled away, Sam was looking at you in disbelief, wonder, and with a hope that what you said was true. He swallowed hard. “I haven’t been with anyone since I got my soul back and...remembered. I want to...with you.”

You closed your eyes and opened them, nodding. “You can. However you need.”

You hadn’t expected it to happen like this, this soon, but the necessary ingredients for the spell were in your system. All you had to do to activate them was say you loved him in your head during the act. You didn’t even need to say it out loud. This spell relied solely on you, your feelings and your intention. You’d already been repeating it in your mind like a mantra, and you weren’t going to stop. You loved him so much, you’d given him a part of yourself already. You would give him anything.

“You really want to be with me after what I told you?” You kissed him again as if to prove it, and this time he kissed you back. 

Sam slowly lifted your shirt over your head. He hadn’t exposed much of you yet, but he spent so long looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body, that you wondered if he had changed his mind. At last, he lowered his head and started kissing your neck. His kisses were gentle and open mouthed. He began to make a trail of them, moving lower to your breasts. Then he stopped.

You could feel his breath on your skin when he spoke. “This is okay?”

Your heart clenched and then filled with even more love for him. “Yes, Sam. Whatever you need. I want you.”

He touched you, running his fingers along the top edge of your bra and feeling the swell of your breasts. His hand rubbed over your shoulder and down the length of your arm. When he looked at you, there was no fear in his eyes; but there was hesitation. He could take as long as he wanted to resolve whatever it was that was making him hesitate.

You tried to tell him with your eyes what you couldn’t yet say. I LOVE YOU. Finding enough reassurance in your eyes, Sam kissed you. His tongue making a slow circle around yours. The kiss didn’t last very long, but it was followed by another that was a little deeper. 

Between kisses, his lips stayed near yours. “I like having you close.”

“I like it too,” you answered and hoped it encouraged him to keep going.

The next kiss was the deepest one yet, and you felt your body respond to what he was doing to you. An ache for him began to blossom in your core. You could feel yourself getting wet for him.

His lips moved so close to yours when he spoke. “Will you take it off for me? Your bra?” You nodded, your cheek brushing against his. 

You sat up a little. Sam was watching your every movement. You reached back and unfastened your bra, pulling the straps slowly down your arms. You let it drop somewhere on the bed.

Sam looked at you again, his eyes taking in every inch of you. He whispered, “You’re perfect. So beautiful.” You smiled at him, wishing you could freeze this moment. The tone of his voice and his eyes told you that for a second he had forgotten everything else.

The moment passed. Sam took off his plaid and the t-shirt underneath, peeling it off his body. Now, it was your turn to look. His eyes met yours, and they were questioning you, waiting for a response or some indication of what you were thinking. If only you could say the words you longed to say, you wanted so badly to give him yourself completely, body and heart, if only he was ready to hear them. As it was, with all the doubts he had, you didn’t want him to overwhelm him with that declaration. The words you said instead were “Can I?”

He nodded to you. “Yes.”

You let your hand wander over the muscles in his shoulders, his chest, and his stomach. “You’re beautiful too, Sam.” He closed his eyes. You continued to explore his body with the lightest touch of your fingertips, observing his reaction closely for any sign of distress.

You kept most of your touches well above his waist, letting him feel what it was to be touched by someone who loved him. He sighed, and it was a gentle sound free of strain. You smiled again, even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Sam, do you want me to take off the rest of my clothes?” He opened his eyes, and the question hung there. 

You could hear him breathing deeper now, his arousal starting. “I do want that.” 

You opened the button on your jeans, lowered the zipper, and eased them down your legs. For now, your panties were still on. They were simple, made of white cotton; they didn’t need to be anything else. There was no seduction in what the two of you were doing. It was pure, the purest thing you had ever known or felt. 

“Do you want to touch me, Sam? Let me prove to you how much I want you.” His hand reached out for you, and you took it. You guided his hand to that place beneath your legs where you were wet for him so he could feel it. 

Sam didn’t move his hand. He left it there for a few seconds before lifting it, looking at his fingers, and running his thumb over them to feel the wetness there. His lips parted as he looked to you for verification of what your body was telling him. “See. I want you.”

You slipped off your panties, lay down on the bed, and lifted your arms to him. Sam accepted your invitation, lowering himself over you, bracing his weight so it wasn’t fully on you. Now when he kissed you, his hand was moving down your side, over your hip, and back up again. “You feel so good, Y/N. Your skin is so soft, so warm.”

Feel all the warmth. Take it, my love. Your arms were around him, your hand in his hair. You were ready to do this for him, take on a portion of the horror that caused him to suffer so much. You would take it all if you could.

Sam broke the kiss. “Are you sure?”

You stared into his eyes the way you had imagined doing in that motel when you’d first met him. “I’m sure.”

Sam moved to take off his jeans. He was semi hard, not there yet. That was okay. 

He positioned himself over you again, and you put your arms back around him. You were still being careful to keep your hands on his upper back. While Sam kissed you, you could feel him continuing to harden until he was fully erect. He stopped kissing you, and looked into your eyes, searching once more. You said just one word “Yes.”

He entered you a little at a time, inch by inch, until he was completely inside. Initially, Sam stayed still within you. You bit your bottom lip, adjusting to the way he stretched you and waiting for him to move. When he didn’t, you asked, “Sam, are you okay?”

There was a pause, and then he said, “Am I hurting you?” 

You buried your face into the side of his neck and kissed him tenderly there. “No, Sam. You aren’t hurting me. I like the way you make me feel. 

He started to move with a slow rolling movement of his hips. You didn’t hold back your sounds of pleasure; you let him hear them. Sam responded by beginning to thrust.

That’s when you heard it. “You think you can fix him?” You turned your head in the direction of the mocking voice. It was him. It was working. You saw HIM.

Lucifer looked like a man, but there was a malevolence that radiated out from him. You hated that he could see you now, see you with Sam, invade this most private moment, even if he wasn’t real. He continued to mock you.

“You think you can save him? From me? It’s too late, you foolish woman.” He walked closer. You closed your eyes to block out the sight of him, but you could still hear what he was saying. “He belongs to me. I. Marked. Him.”

You wouldn’t let him violate this moment. You would endure seeing and hearing Lucifer for the rest of your life, but he couldn’t lessen this; this was beautiful. You focused on the connection, on the intimacy Sam was sharing with you. “I want you, Sam. I want you.”

The voice sounded so close, and you squeezed your eyes more tightly closed. “I told you he’s mine. I claimed him. Over and over.” You fought to hold in the sob that threatened to erupt out of you. Sam could not know what was happening. As long as you kept your eyes closed, Sam could mistake the pained grimace on your face for passion. “You should have heard him cry. He begged, pleaded with me to stop.”

Sam’s thrusts got faster. “Yes, Sam. Yes.” You wanted to dig your fingers into his back, but you didn’t. You were receiving what he gave you, what he was ready to give.

Lucifer’s voice, that was now in your head, was cruel. “You know what was the most fun?” You waited, dreading what he would say next, but Lucifer didn’t finish. You opened your eyes. He was gone. That meant….

You could say it now, the words you had been struggling to hold back, because you knew he would want to hear it. “I love you, Sam.”

His hips started to stutter, and he filled you with his release. Your walls fluttered around him, taking you right to the edge, but you didn’t come. It didn’t matter. 

Sam kept you close after he slipped from your body, rolling you onto your side to face him. You gazed into his eyes; you could look at them forever now. Sam’s heart was yours; he wanted you the way you wanted him. He verified what you were thinking by saying, “I love you too, Y/N.” You knew it, but there was nothing like hearing the words. 

“Thank you...for showing me...for giving me what you just did.” He brushed your hair from your cheek. He lowered his eyes, then lifted them back to yours. “You didn’t...did you. It wasn’t good for you. It’ll be better for you next time. I promise.”

“Don’t ever think you don’t give me enough, Sam. Don’t ever think that.” You kissed him softly and sweetly. 

“Will you let me do it now?” Sam asked you quietly. “Make you feel good.”

You traced your fingertip down his check and along his chin. “If that’s what you want. You don’t have to do anything, Sam.”

Sam covered your mouth with his, and you opened to his kiss and his touch. You spread your legs when you felt his fingers moving through your folds. He circled your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. He had already taken you so close, it wasn’t long before you were coming undone and falling into the bliss of your orgasm. 

He nuzzled his cheek against yours and whispered into your ear, “I love you.” Sam slept peacefully in your arms that night, as you did in his.

The next morning Sam woke you with his kisses. You opened your eyes, and his radiant smile greeted you. He had never smiled like that before. His dimples had never shone so bright. “He’s gone, Y/N. I can feel it.”

You smiled back at the man you loved, the man who returned your love. “He is gone, Sam, and he won’t come back. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Whatever else you needed to do to help Sam deal with what he had been through, you would. The things you might have to face together would no longer include hallucinations of Lucifer. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @sams-sass @beskaradberoya

[all-the-love-harold]

Fine Line

Chapter 1 - Lovin’ you’s the antidote 

The First installment of my new series, let me know what you think about Harry and Clara

December 16th 2019

Clara was sitting on her window sill staring out at the rain falling down onto the street below her. People were battling with their umbrellas against the wind and she felt a sudden feeling of warmth as she stared into her living room, her best friend's new album playing through her TV and grateful that she wasn’t outside and that she didn’t have to leave her flat now until tomorrow morning she turned it up. The sound of Harry’s voice singing “Just let me adore you” echoed around the room and in that moment, she couldn’t help but feel lonely. Harry was still in LA after the release of his album and the rest of her friends were back in their hometowns for Christmas already. Normally she would call her boyfriend, but less than 2 hours after Harry boarded his plane to LA, Will called her and said that he wasn’t in love with her anymore and it was probably best that they stopped seeing each other. And just like that 8 years was over in one phone call and her shoulder to cry on was on a plane halfway over the atlantic.

Clara had met Will on her first day of university and they’d been together ever since but apparently his work had become too important and he didn’t have time for her anymore. She knew this was a load of bullshit, she knew that he’d been spending a lot of time with his assistant, who was very skinny and very blonde and everything that Clara hated about the world.

“You’re better off without him” Harry had said to her over the phone when he finally had the chance to call her back

“Doesn’t feel like it right now” she replied

“I know,” Harry sighed “I wish I could hug you”

“Me too” she said, Harry’s hugs always made everything better, they had ever since they were little and the worst thing that happened to them was falling off their bikes onto the concrete.

Clara sighed deeply as she sunk down into her spot on the bay window. She hated that she couldn’t enjoy having one night to herself, but she had gotten so used to having people around her, people she had to look after or take care of in some way.

“Maybe I should get a dog,” she thought to herself. Then she would never really be alone and she’d always feel needed.

But she lived in a small apartment so she would need a dog that was ok with being left inside while she was at work. Or maybe even a dog that she could take to work with her. Or a dog that Harry could dog sit for her when he was home. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and googled her local shelter. This was the most excited she had felt for months and the advice her mum gave her when she was young kept replaying in her head

“A dog or a baby will never be a mistake, they might make things harder sometimes, but you’ll love them so much that you’ll never feel like you made the wrong decision” and love was exactly what Clara needed right now. Because after Christmas Harry would be leaving for an almost year long world tour and she couldn’t stand the thought of being alone in London for that long. And her job meant that she couldn’t move back home to Holmes Chapel.

With just nine days left until christmas the shelter was full of dogs that needed new homes, dogs of all shapes and sizes, some who had been there for months and some who had only spent a few days there so far. If she had a bigger space, she'd adopt them all, but for now, one would do. She scrolled through and looked at all the profiles on the website before deciding that she would need to meet the dog before making any kind of concrete decision. And that was that, tomorrow morning she would pick Harry up from the airport and take him straight to the shelter to help her choose her new baby.

***

“Good Morning Ra” Harry said, shoving his bags into the boot of her car. The advantage of having a best friend that lived in London was not having to feel like an ass who needed a chauffeur to drive him around his home city.

“Good Morning Harold” she smiled trying to contain her excitement. Sleeping on the idea of getting a dog had not changed her mind, if anything it had only made her more sure of herself. And maybe slightly nervous.

“You’re very cheerful for someone who’s just been dumped” he said as he sat down in the passenger's seat and buckled his seatbelt.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be today?” she asked, ignoring his attempt at mentioning the elephant in the room

“I have rehearsals tonight, but until 7 I am free, don’t you have to be at work?”

“I have the day off”

Harry frowned “You never take days off” he said suspiciously “What’s going on?”

“We’re going on an adventure” she handed him her phone, “You’re in charge of the music”

“Da da da da da da ddada” The opening line of Golden echoed through the speaker, and Clara drove off,away from the airport, rolling her eyes at Harry for playing his own album.

They drove mostly in silence, Harry didn't want to ask where they were going and after the way she ignored his comment about the break up he didn’t want to bring it up in case it made her sad when right in this moment she seemed happier and more excited than he’d seen her in months.

They pulled up in a dingy looking car park on the outskirts of London and Harry furrowed his brow

“Where are we?” he said, half tempted to lock his car door

“I’m getting a dog” she smiled widely

“A dog?”

“Yeah, you know four legs, barks, like to go on walks, looks really cute when it’s asleep”

Harry laughed “I know what a dog is” he said, “But you’re not home enough for a dog”

“Office dog” she smirked “and I didn’t think you’d have any objections to dog sitting when you’re around”

“I mean, I don’t” he half smiled “but are you sure”

“Harold, in the very wise words of my beautiful mother, a dog or a baby is never a bad thing. And since the other half of my baby decided to up and fuck off a week ago, I’m getting a dog”

Harry sighed and unclipped his seatbelt, “You know most people find a rebound after a breakup, but a dog suits you better.” Harry knew when to stop arguing, he’d known Clara his whole life and, in a way, he knew she was right, a dog really was exactly what she needed.

They walked into the shelter side by side and anyone walking past would guess that they were a happy couple, looking to add the first addition to their little family. But that wasn’t the case, Harry and Clara had never been and will never be more than friends, despite what their mothers might think.

“Hi” Clara said as they walked into reception “I’m looking to adopt a dog”

“Of course” the girl smiled eyeing Harry off “just follow the hall all the way down to the end and one of the girls will help you once you’re down there.”

“Thanks” Harry smiled, winking at her as they walked away.

“Do you you have to flirt with everyone?” Clara said to him once they were out of earshot

“Just helping you get a really cute one”

Clara rolled her eyes and ignored him, she found that sometimes if she indulged him too much he became even more annoying.

They walked through the door at the end of the hallway and Clara’s heart immediately split into two. The dogs were all in tiny cages and a few of them looked unwell and malnourished, and that sympathetic feeling she felt when scrolling through their profiles last night only increased tenfold, staring into their lonely little eyes.

“Hi, my name’s sarah” a girl came around the corner, a wide grin on her face “are you just having a look or are you here to adopt today?”

“I’d like to adopt” Clara said definitively

“Yay!” Sarah said, “These dogs here have only just arrived and they’re not quite ready for adoption yet, but if you really fall in love with one of them you can come back in a few weeks and pick them up once they’ve had their needles and health checks or, if you go a little further down, those guys are ready to go - do you have a yard for a big dog, or were you looking for an apartment dog”

“I have a flat” Clara said, “but he has a yard just around the corner from my flat where I would take the dog to run around”

“I think I have the perfect boy for you!” Sarah exclaimed and started down the hallway, stopping outside a cage.

Clara smiled up at Harry and followed, almost at a run she was so excited.

“This is Larry, he’s a 10 month old greyhound and he’s been living in this shelter for 7 of those months”

Clara turned to face the dog and instantly fell in love, she crouched down and let him sniff her hand and instead he gave it a big lick and snuggled into it.

“He’s a sweet boy” Sarah said “but he’s not without his issues, he’s been seen by our behaviour therapist and he’ll need ongoing training and support but a little bit of love will go a long way with this little guy”

“What did he need to see the behavior therapist for?” Harry asked, knowing that Clara wouldn’t.

“He’s displayed a few guarding behaviors, they’re not uncommon for his breed, with the right training, he’ll grow into a wonderful dog”

Clara had stopped listening, she was kneeling down now, with her hand outstretched so that Larry could sniff it. But he didn’t want to just sniff, he greeted Clara with a great big lick and she knew right then that this was the dog that she would be taking home today.

“I’m sold” she said, without taking her eyes off the dog, who was now sitting very elegantly, staring up at her.

“Really?” Sarah said “Great, I’ll go and get him and take him to the play area and you guys can get to know each other while I get all the paperwork sorted - any questions?”

“Just one” Clara said thinking of the only obvious issue with adopting a dog named Larry and being publicly linked to Harry “Can I change his name?”

“Of course” Sarah smiled “He’s still a pup so he’ll learn his new name very quickly”

“Perfect”

Harry smiled at Clara as Sarah walked away “Are you sure Ra?”

“I’m sure as hell H, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life”

“Alright then” he smiled “guess I’m becoming an uncle today”

***

“How about David Bowie” Harry said later that afternoon, sitting on Clara’s living room floor, throwing Larry the tiny tennis ball that he’d gone out and bought after they got him home.

“Bowie for short” Clara mused “I really like that”

“David when he’s in trouble” Harry laughed

“Bowie” Clara called and Larry’s ears pricked up

“Bowie” she said again, and he bounded over to her.

“Well that’s settled then” Harry said.

Bowie sat down on Clara's lap while she petted his head gently.

"I'm so in love with you already little dog"

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon watching as Clara turned into the dog mum she was always meant to be and he felt his heart swell every time she smiled at something Bowie did.

"Loving you's the antidote" he thought to himself although in that moment he wasn’t entirely sure who was helping who.

***

December 19th, 2019 - London’s Electric Ballroom.

Late was one thing that Clara hated being. If she was ever late for something it usually filled her with so much anxiety that she would have to call someone and let them know that she was in fact on her way. But tonight she was running late because she couldn’t tear herself away from a snuggle on the couch with her beautiful boy and she hadn’t called anyone because couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone that she was late to her best friend's album release because she was too busy snuggling her dog and that she wasn't sorry at all. So instead she snuck in the back door, slipped into the dressing room and pretended she had been there the whole time.

“Gem!” she exclaimed when she spotted Harry’s sister “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

“No you haven’t” she smirked “You just snuck in that back door, you were late”

“Shhh” clara hushed “Don’t tell H”

“He won’t care, not today, anyway - Have you met the latest piece of arm candy?”

Clara batted her eyelashes at the news that Harry was dating someone new

“No” she shook her head, “I didn’t know there was anyone new”

“Oh they only met a few days ago, just before he left for LA I think, but she’s pretty clingy and so far she doesn’t seem that nice”

“Blonde?” Clara asked, a tone of bitterness evident in her voice

Gemma nodded

“Skinny?”

“You bet” Gemma sighed

“Checks out” Clara nodded, “That’s why he hasn’t told me, I think he’s afraid I’ll get sad if he’s dating someone that looks like the girl Will slept with 2 days after he broke up with me”

“What a prick” Gemma said “Will, I mean, not H… maybe H a little bit” she added

“Is she here?” Clara asked, raising her eyebrows as if she was on a mission.

“Yeah” Gemma nodded towards the closed door to Harry’s private dressing room “They’re in there together, doors locked”

“Gross” Clara rolled her eyes.

All of Clara’s gulit about being late seemed to disappear after that, Harry would never know, or care if he was too busy having sex with a girl he’s only just met in the dressing room just before the show. Especially if hadn’t deemed her important enough to tell Clara about.

Go time was fast approaching and eventually Jeff and Tommy, Harry’s managers, started ushering all the guests into the concert hall, so that Harry could get ready and warm up. Clara had never been to this venue before, but as herself and Gemma stepped out onto the balcony, she understood why it was called the electric ballroom, the room was buzzing with excitement and she felt herself become excited too. She did always love watching Harry perform. She had ever since they were babies and Harry would dance in the kitchen play area at daycare and she would giggle along.

“Just there” Gemma whispered to her, pointing at the tall blonde that just walked into the room.

Clara shrugged and handed Gemma the glass of wine that she herself had just been handed “Well if H won’t introduce me, I’ll just introduce myself”

She walked over to where the girl stood, looking lonely and out of place and held her hand out to her quickly withdrawing it, thinking about where it might have been not too long ago.

“Hi, I’m Clara” she said, keeping her hands firmly by her side, “I’m Harry’s best friend, Gemma told me that you guys are dating”

The girl looked her up and down “I’m Shelly” she said, sounding bored with the conversation already “If you’re his best friend you’ve probably been to one of these things before right”

“Yeahhh” Clara nodded, not sure where she was going with this “Once, this only his second album”

“How long do they go for? I’ve got a somewhere to be later”

“He’ll be on stage for about an hour and half” Clara said taken aback by the lack of support she was showing “but it’s a release show, so he’ll want to hang around celebrate the album going to number one already”

Shelly scoffed “Oh well I Probably can’t stay for that, I might even have to leave before he gets off stage”

Before Clara had a chance to reply the house lights turned off and a voice began to echo around the room.

“Right” Clara nodded, not wanting to say too much, although it was becoming pretty clear to her that they both seemed to only be in this for sex “Well it was nice to meet you, I’m going to go watch from over there”

“She’s a delight, isn’t she?” Gemma said, handing Clara back her glass of wine, glad that the screams were echoing around the room loud enough to drown her words out from any eavesdroppers.

“I give it a month”

Gemma didn’t have a chance to retort, because Harry had made his way onto the stage and the screams filling the room became deafening, but she thought a month was ambitious.

“Golden, golden, golden, As I open my eyes' ' A smile as wide as Harry’s cheeks spread across his face as he looked out into the crowd and he winked at Clara when he found her standing next to Gemma on the balcony.She always loved that his first instinct was to find her in a room full of people. She smiled back at him and tears filled her eyes. She was so proud of the man standing up on that stage, he’d come so far since the last time they were standing in a room like this and she’d been there every step of the way.The smile on his face said it all, he was happy and he was proud of the album he’d written and so was she.

“I’m Harry, nice to meet you, thank you very much for having me, how are you? Harry said after playing Golden “The crowd cheered and Harry moved his gaze back to where Clara and Gemma were standing, tears streaming down both of their faces “Good! Before we start the show properly, I’d like to point out that my beautiful sister and my beautiful best friend are already crying, after they promised they would wait until I sang Falling”

The crowd laughed and Clara only cried more while Gemma tried to hide her tears from everyone who had now turned around to look at them.

“So my new album came out a week ago, and tonight I’m going to play it for you. London is home. You are my home, it only felt right to sing it in front of you before it goes on tour. So welcome, and sing along when you can”

As Harry began to sing Watermelon Sugar, Clara glanced over at the space where Shelly had been standing and noticed that she was gone. Clara shrugged and turned back to face the stage. All she wanted to do now was dance, and enjoy the art her best friend had devoted himself to for the last year and a half.

When the first notes of “Falling” echoed around the room Clara’s heart sank and she was taken back to the day he’d written the song. It wasn’t that long ago, 4 months maybe, and he was heartbroken, a complete mess, he had been so in love and camille had ripped his heart right out of his chest and walked away with it. He didn’t know what to do with himself, so he found comfort in Clara’s apartment, pretending that none of it ever happened. And that’s exactly how Clara felt now, Will was gone, she was alone, and she felt like maybe that was it for her, she’d had her one great love and now she was someone no one would want around. Life had it’s funny ways of letting you know that you’re on the right path, and for Clara, listening to Harry on stage, reclaiming his heart for himself in a room full of people who loved and supported him through his worst moments, was one of them, if he could do it, so could she. Each song after that filled her heart with more and more pride and by the time Harry came off stage she felt as though she was going to explode.

“Harry fucking Styles” she said running into his arms when she finally got backstage

“Clara fucking Riley” he wrapped his arms around her

“I want to stay and party but I have to get home to my Bowie”

Harry kissed on the forehead “If I could I’d skip the party to hang out with Bowie too.”

“He’s pretty much the best”

“I’ll stumble in at some point later on though” he smiled “So we can head back home for christmas early tomorrow”

“Good idea, alright, Love you H - and we have to talk about Shelly in the car!”

“No we don’t” he smirked

[little-mad]

Little Jackpot Pt. 5

~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~

Ambry’s world was constant movement. She didn’t get a moment’s rest from the ongoing jostling that came with being trapped in a backpack currently being worn by someone who was walking non-stop. She’d resigned herself to sitting at the bottom of her jar prison with her arms braced against the glass walls.

There was something deeply unsettling about the fact that walking around with a backpack on, something that was so simple and commonplace to the human, had such a profound effect on Ambry. After her talk with Sebastian a couple weeks ago about how out of place she felt in the human world, Ambry had progressively been getting less affected by these thoughts of insignificance. However, this whole experience had the potential to swiftly undo all that progress.

Ambry grit her teeth as her world suddenly juddered to a halt. Outside her prison there came the sound of a door being opened, which meant they must have arrived at wherever Kole was taking her. There was another bout of disorienting movement that was accompanied by a variety of loud sounds. Ambry couldn’t tell what was going on outside, that is until she felt a sharp lurching motion before the backpack landed on the ground with a soft thud.

When the opening of the bag was suddenly unzipped, Ambry had to squint her eyes against the bright light that came pouring in. By the time her eyes had adjusted, her vision was obscured by a dark shape coming towards her rapidly. A quiet squeak slipped from her mouth as her jar was carried effortlessly up into the air. It was unsurprising when the blur of motion ended in Kole’s giant face staring at her from the other side of the glass.

“Well don’t you look adorable all sprawled out like that.” The witch crooned, a smirk on his lips.

The demeaning comment was all it took for Ambry to shoot up to her feet and assume her best attempt at a firm stance. She folded her arms over her chest and glared darkly out at her captor.

A chuckle reverberated Ambry’s glass prison. “I suppose I struck a cord there.” Kole remarked.

As much as Ambry wanted to shoot back a response, she knew the human would be unable to hear it thanks to the enchantment he’d placed on the jar. So instead, she settled for giving him her most hate-filled scowl.

Apparently unaffected by Ambry’s behavior, Kole lowered the jar from his face and began to walk further inside the building. It was then that Ambry took a moment to take in her surroundings. It appeared they were in a house, a bedroom more specifically. The furnishings were all quite modern looking, and while Ambry wasn’t an expert on the human economy, if she had to guess she’d say the stuff was fairly expensive. However, there was one item in particular that stood out from the rest of the objects in the room. It was an ornate looking golden bird cage. The metal loop at the top suggested it was meant to be hung from the ceiling, but it was currently resting atop a long glass table that lined up with the end of the queen sized bed.

For a brief moment Ambry wondered whether Kole had once had a pet bird or something, but then he started walking directly towards the thing. A pit began to form in Ambry’s stomach as she realized her fate.

Seeming to sense Ambry’s displeasure without even looking at her, Kole made a slight clicking sound with his tongue. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll find this more comfortable than your current residence.” He stated, a smile in his voice.

Once he stood just in front of the golden cage, Kole used his free hand to unscrew the metal lid off of the jar holding Ambry captive. She stared upwards, muscles tensed as she watched the opening of the jar slowly be revealed. She was desperate to just fly out and make a break for it, but the size of the jar just wouldn’t allow it. Instead she was forced to remain there like a sitting duck as Kole’s fingers plunged into the jar to retrieve her.

Despite knowing it was fruitless, Ambry’s instincts demanded she do everything in her power to avoid the oncoming fingers. She plastered herself to the side of the jar, as far as possible from the reaching appendages. The action bought her only a second of time before the fingers quickly redirected to her new position.

“Such a stubborn little pixie.” Kole’s voice rumbled from above.

Ambry let out a grunt of frustration when she found herself pinched tightly at the waist by the human’s thumb and index finger. She attempted to shove the offending digits off of herself but her endeavor was quickly halted when Kole’s hand abruptly lifted up into the air, pulling Ambry along for the sickening ride.

For once, Kole didn’t pause to hold Ambry in front of his face before relocating her. This time he simply pulled open the small door of the birdcage with his free hand before unceremoniously depositing Ambry inside.

She sprung to her feet and made a dive for the door, but by the time she reached it, it was already shut tight and being held closed by just one of Kole’s fingers. Ambry despised the amused laugh that came out of the human.

“I have to give you credit for your persistence.” Kole said while reaching for the gold padlock that sat at the end of the table. “I might have expected you to have given up by now.”

“Is this thing enchanted too?” Ambry questioned sharply.

Kole, having just locked the cage door with the padlock, shifted his gaze to meet hers. “It is, but not to keep sound in.” He informed her. “The cage itself has several enchantments intended to counteract any pixie magic you may attempt to conjure up, and the lock is charmed to only be able to be unlocked by me.”

Ambry clenched her fists at her sides. This guy had seemed to have really thought this plan of his through. He’d probably been planning it for months, thinking through every contingency and accounting for them. A feeling of disgust came over her as she realized he very well may have been watching her and Sebastian from afar for a while.

“Hey, would you happen to know if pixies die when their wings are removed?” The question came out of nowhere, instantly stunning Ambry to silence.

Pixies dying from their wings being removed? She had never heard of it before, then again she’d never heard of a pixie losing their wings at all before. Back in her hometown, there had been several instances of pixies injuring their wings in some way or another, but never once had anyone lost them altogether.

Seeming to take Ambry’s shocked reaction as a ‘no’, Kole tapped a finger to his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Interesting that even you don’t know.” He commented. “There are some sources that say a pixie dies immediately upon being separated from their wings.” He explained casually. “But there’s also plenty of sources claiming that pixies can live just fine without their wings.”

Ambry felt as though she wanted to throw up. This witch had not only abducted her with the intention of taking her wings and selling them, but also had no clue as to whether or not the procedure would kill her. Ambry had been well aware that not all witches were decent, fairly moral people. Just like every species, humans had their fair share of bad apples. However, the complete lack of concern for the life of another sentient being that this man displayed still managed to shake Ambry to her core.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Kole’s voice forced Ambry’s attention, “I’d much prefer you survive. Now that I’ve seen how cute you are, I think I’d quite like to keep you as a pet.” His face was mere inches from the gold bars that separated him from Ambry. A content smile was spread across his face, his massive eyes holding her trapped in their gaze.

Ambry’s flesh crawled as a dark feeling began to spread through her body. This was precisely the kind of thing that had kept pixies secluded from the rest of the world for so long. Other types of magical beings had begun integrating into human society a long time ago, but the same could never be said for Ambry’s kind. No matter how many humans treated pixies as equals despite the vast size difference, there would always be those few who refused to view them as anything but inferior. A pet. This human wanted to make Ambry his pet. It was utterly repulsive.

“I’m nobody’s pet.” She snarled, forcing herself to stand her ground and not back away from the giant looming face.

Kole smirked, holding Ambry in his gaze for a long moment before he finally pulled away from the cage and stood to his full height. “Ah right, Sebastian Altalune was calling you his ‘companion’.” He performed air quotes with his fingers.

“I am his companion.” Ambry hissed, not at all liking what Kole was insinuating. “And it’s only a matter of time before he finds me.”

Kole gave a derisive snort as he turned away from Ambry’s cage. “Not likely, considering this house is completely immune to scrying or any other form of magical tracking.” He stated. “And if he does somehow manage to find his way here, I’m quite certain I can handle the likes of him.”

Ambry pressed her lips together tightly. Based on what she’d seen of Kole’s magical abilities so far, she had to admit to herself that he did seem more advanced than Sebastian. If she had to guess, she’d say he was a few years older than her witch. And while Sebastian was a genius when it came to the academic aspects of magic, applying his knowledge to combat situations came less easily for him. She could only hope that if he did manage to track her down, he’d bring backup.

[meterokinesis]

Caged Birds Still Sing

Read it on AO3

Prompt: explosion, kidnapping, tearful smile

Summary: Tim's been kidnapped before. He doesn't know if he's getting out this time.

It had been three days since Tim had been kidnapped by the League of Assassins. This time was significantly less nice than the last, and then he’d been missing an organ.

He was in the same lavish rooms, with their silk sheets and gilded mirrors, but the lock on the door had been changed. Where Tim had once been allowed to come and go, he was now stuck here. The door locked from the outside, and the only other point of escape was the large balcony, where iron bars arched overhead. He was a Red Robin in a golden cage.

Meals came at regular times. A crossword puzzle came with his breakfast, and on his second day a copy of War and Peace came with lunch. He’d been stripped of all his trackers and gadgets when he got here, which had been replaced with the silks of the League.

Tim was well acquainted with kidnapping. Having been the only heir to the Drake fortune, he had been kidnapped twice as a child, once when he was three and once when he was eight. He didn’t remember much, other than the shrieks of police sirens when he’d finally been found. Once he started as Robin, the kidnappings began in earnest. He was never gone for longer than a night or two, and Bruce always saved him. He was Batman, that was what he did.

So Tim bided his time, sipping ginger tea and doing crossword puzzles and reading Tolstoy. Soon, Bruce would come.

On the fourth day, Tim received his first visitor. He was on the balcony, taking his breakfast under the bright desert sun. He looked up to see Ra’s al Ghul, the reflection of his jewelry practically blinding against the shadowy backdrop of Tim’s chambers. Tim took another bite of toast.

“Hello, Detective,” he drawled as Tim squinted up at him.

“Oh, hello,” Tim said quietly. “Have you made up your mind on whether or not you’re killing me yet?” Ra’s didn’t laugh, but Tim didn’t expect him to. He wasn’t known for his sense of humor.

“See, there’s only so many reasons you’d keep me here,” Tim continued. “You don’t need intel, because you already know everything about us. You don’t need money, because you’re richer than God. I’m either here because you want to trade me for something, you need me to code, or you still want that heir.”

A venomous smile spread on Ra’s face. “Clever boy.” The words stilled Tim, his toast abandoned on his plate. “Now, follow me.”

Ra’s swept out of the room and Tim followed, keeping sure to hold his head high. His mother would be proud. Even being led to his doom, he wouldn’t let the facade fall. As they walked through the Cradle, Tim refused to meet the eyes of the assassins that milled about. He could feel their gazes tear at him, but he let the wounds pile up.

Ra’s study was incredibly simple, but nice all the same. It looked like an older version of every board member’s home office. Tim despised it.

Ra’s gestured for him to sit in one of the stiff chairs, and Tim complied. The head assassin remained standing, his fingertips brushing over the manuscripts that lined the walls.

“I feel as if we know each other well enough by now, Detective. You spent quite a bit of time with us before you decided to defect. You know that I do not play, I win.” Tim stared ahead, trying his best to keep his face blank.

“So, here is what you will do. And you will do it, Detective. You will notify Batman that you are turning in your cape to work for me. You will tell him not to search for you.”

Tim cleared his throat. “And if I don’t?”

Ra’s smirked, as if he expected the question. “Then I will instruct the assassins following your civilian friends to put bullets in their skulls. I don’t believe Mr. Fox will appreciate losing two of his daughters in one day. I know Commissioner Gordon wouldn’t be a fan. Nor Ms. Ives.”

Tim nodded shallowly. “So it’s them or me?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Why exactly do you want me so badly? Why not Damian or Bruce?”

Ra’s laughed darkly. “Because your spirit will be so much more fun to break.”

                                                ___________

That night, when he was safely back in his beautiful cage, Tim began his letter.

Dear Bruce (and Dick and Jason and Babs and Cass and Damian and Steph),

Since my return to Gotham, something has been missing in my life. I’ve decided to come back to the League of Assassins in an attempt to solve that emptiness. This is of my own volition. Do not come looking for me, I do not want to be found. I love you all.

Always yours,

Tim

He fell asleep watching the moon shine through iron bars, wondering if this is how every criminal he ever put away felt.

                                                ___________

It took two days for Ra’s to start giving Tim tasks around the Cradle. Small ones, mostly filing. Some putting pieces together. It felt as if even with all of Ra’s power over life and death, he didn’t know much about order. Tim slogged through the work, waiting for time to tick down. He fixed small loopholes and backdoors and monitored agents in the field. It was easy work, at least when Tim forgot about the trained killer hovering just outside his door.

At night, he scratched out notes on the pages of Tolstoy. Short snippets, like “I’m sorry” and “Thank you” and “I always loved you.” They’d never see the light of day, but they made him feel better.

During his free time, he fixed the computer wiring and did odd electrical tasks around the Cradle. It was as if no one there knew how to use a soldering iron. As much as the menial tasks frustrated him, they kept his hands busy and kept Ra’s off his back.

                                                 ___________

Rescue came two weeks after Tim Drake was kidnapped. He was in the main hall when the alarms of the breach sounded. Assassins streamed around him, all headed to their respectful stations. Tim headed to the control room.

The control room was small and filled with screens. A skylight gave the tiniest bit of natural light twenty feet above. Tim busied himself with the controls, monitoring the cameras and putting the last minute details on his plan.

Rapping came from the skylight, and Tim looked up to see Steph waving at him. He hesitated for half a moment, then nodded. She shattered the glass and rappelled down, landing with a quiet thud.

“Tim, here,” she whispered and pressed a comms unit into his hand. He nodded and placed it in his ear.

“I need all of you to listen to me. You need to leave,” he began, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“We’re not leaving you-” Dick butted in, but Tim cut him off.

“You have to. If you don’t, civilians die. People we love die. I-I can’t let that happen.” Stephanie placed a hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off. “I have a plan, but I can’t pull it off if you’re here.”

“We’ll let you take point on this, Red Robin.” Bruce’s low voice calmed the nerves racing through Tim’s veins. If Batman said it would be okay, it would be okay.

“You have three minutes to evacuate,” Tim finished, then slipped the comm unit out of his ear.

“Tim…” Stephanie whispered, reaching out for him. This time, he let her hold his hand, running his thumb over the seams of her gloves.

“Hey Stephie,” he murmured, trying his best to muster a smile. “You have to go, okay? You have to be a hero. For me.” She shook her head, opened her mouth to say something, but he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Go,” he urged, and she nodded. With one last squeeze of her hand, she was grappling back through the skylight. He watched as she disappeared, and tried not to let his heart break too much.

He readied the plan, fingers flying faster than he could remember ever doing before. Hands trembling, he placed the comms unit back in his ear just as it crackled to life.

“We’re all out, Red Robin. We’re a kilometer away, in one of the nearby caves. What’s your ETA?”

Tim smiled shakily. “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you. The Cradle’s undergoing self-destruction. I set up the protocol while Ra’s thought I was doing busy work.”

“Tim, you can’t be serious.” For the first time in years, Tim thought he heard fear in Bruce’s voice. “We can still get you out.”

“Someone needs to make sure it goes through with no interference. If Ra’s wants me so bad, he can have me.” Tim suddenly became aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Thank you for saving me. Thank you for loving me. Now it’s time to let me save you.”

Despite the layered protests in his ear, Tim pressed the figurative big red button. As tears stained his face, he smiled. At least he would go out saving people. That’s all he had ever wanted to do.

The numbers ticked down on the screen. 8… 7… 6…

“I love you,” Tim rasped.

3… 2… 1…

0.

The world went white, and then there was nothing.

[tempesrature]

The Case of the Murdered Witch Doctors | Chapter 9

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 The Charm of Lost Things (Oneshot Follow-up) Creative Process Note Commissioned Art Piece

Pairing: Ride or Die | Ellie x Colt Summary: “It was worth a wound--it was worth many wounds--to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask.” - Arthur Conan Doyle, The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes.  Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: PG-18 (blood, injury, wounds etc.) @rodappreciationweek @lovehugsandcandy

~*~

“Damn, who the hell is her friend? Kamilah Sayeed?”

Colt looks up at the giant mansion in front of him as Ellie hops off of the Cavalieri and stands next to him. She sighs when she realizes that, once again, she was tricked by Ana.

“She didn’t say. Said that they were some rich werewolf she met in the 70’s. I didn’t even question it and just believed her like an idiot.”

Colt grins as he slings his arm on her shoulders. “Yeah you’re an idiot but you make up for it with your pleasing personality.”

Ellie glares at him but it doesn’t last long when she realizes that he’s doing it all in an effort to make her feel better, maybe to even comfort her. This is an unknown and dangerous situation after all.

She steps away from him and she regards him seriously, her voice commanding and final. “Colt. We don’t know what we’ll be facing. I want you to promise me that if things get bad, you need to leave and call the Agency.”

Colt raises an eyebrow. “No.”

“Colt!” Ellie glares at him as she steps closer. “We’ve never fought against an albularyo before, we don’t know what to expect. Plus, I have the authority to be here. You don’t. If things go badly, you could get implicated and arrested—worse, you could die!”

“And what? I’m just gonna run and leave the girl I like behind? Fat chance that’s happening.”

Ellie falters as she takes a small step back and a fiery blush takes hold of her cheeks. “Uh…uhm. The girl you…like? You mean me?”

Colt chuckles wearily as he looks down to the ground and mumbles under his breath, “Lucifer why do I like this idiot…” before he looks back up at her with a piercing gaze, his eyes lighting up in a brilliant gold. “Yes, you Ellie. Do you know of any other half-witch detective’s I’ve been hanging out with lately?”

“I guess I didn’t think you’d be into me…in that way,” Ellie sighs when she realizes that this is the worse time and the worst place to have this conversation and they’re burning valuable minutes right now talking about this. “Anyway. Let’s talk about this later. We have more important things to do.”

“Noted.”

She quickly turns around and makes her way towards the massive front doors of the mansion. Colt jogs up next to her with a confident and cocky smile before he leans down and whispers into her ear.

“But I don’t think we really need talk about this. I know you like me.”

Ellie stops walking and whips her head to weakly glare at him. Colt merely grins as he raises his hand and hovers it near her heart.

“Or should we both check again just to be sure?”

Ellie opens her mouth, her retort already so close to the tip of her tongue, when the double doors of the mansion slam open. She whips her head to look at the person walking out of the doors, her body and senses in high alert.

“Woah Ellie, what are you doing here?” Ana walks out with a big grin as her eyes land on Colt. “With your vamp beau too. Something up?”

Ellie is aware of Colt moving closer to her, almost shielding her away from Ana, but Ellie moves away from him and regards Ana seriously.

“Ana. We need to talk.”

Ana blinks confusingly as she gestures to the inside of the mansion. “Sure, come in. I’ll get us something to drink. Sorry vamp beau, I don’t have blood on tap.”

“Ana we know,” Ellie steps forward and lets her magic pool in her palms as he manifests the cuffs she’ll need to restrain Ana. “I’m putting you under arrest for the murder of Ernesto Kilat and Malina Kilat. You will be put under magic repellent cuffs for the mandated twelve hours. Anything you say, cast or manifest can be used…”

Ellie drones on as she goes around Ana, pulls her arms back and begins to lock in the cuffs around her wrists.

Colt observes the scene silently, his golden eyes alert and ready, and suddenly he feels it. In the air and on the pinpricks of his skin. The energy that vibrates so low in frequency that magical creatures would rarely be able to pick it up.

But he does.

And his eyes widen as he looks to Anna and sees the red glow bubbling underneath the surface of her eyes. Ana looks back at him, tilts her head to the side as a wide and knowing smile pulls at her lips.

“Shit—!” Colt moves fast. Faster than he’s ever moved before and he tackles Ellie to the ground. He tucks her head to his chest and shields her from the oncoming blast. His eyes squeezed shut.

Ellie only has a second to respond as she puts her hand out. Blue sparks crackle in the air as she forms a shield around them. It takes some of the hit but it shatters at the impact of explosion, filling the space with a loud boom.

“Colt are you okay?!” Ellie takes his face into her hands, her eyes full of fear and panic.

“I’m fine.”

He’s definitely not fine. His whole back stings and hurts. But it’s okay. Better him than her. After all, he has healing abilities and she doesn’t.

“I can’t believe you figured it out Ellie!” Ana laughs as strings of red lights with jagged edges hover behind her. “Shame that you did though. I really do like you.”

“You don’t want to fight this Ana,” Ellie says as she pushes Colt off of her and he sits up with a wince. She tries to keep her attention on Ana while glancing at Colt to assess his body for injuries. Her heart lurches when she catches sight of his ruined jacket.

“But I gotta Ellie,” Ana steps forward and the red lights behind her shoots out at them. Ellie quickly blocks it with her magic but the recoil sends her arm back. “I genuinely thought you’d give up or the Agency was going to bury this case like they usually do. But you didn’t! That was a shock.”

Ellie stands up and gathers her magic in her hands as she thinks of the best way to approach this. She thinks of her training but she’s never fought an albularyo before. So she knows she needs to observe and adjust accordingly to Ana’s attacks. She lets her magic seep to the ground. The blue sparks gather the rocks and earth and moves it to incase Ana’s body in a cage to keep her immobile.

“Why did you do it Ana?” Ellie asks as she tightens the cage around her body. “They were your parents. You cried for them.”

Ana looks at her with a bored stare. “And? I kept asking them to hand over the business to me but they kept saying no. I gave them plenty of time to change their minds. A decade in fact. I think that’s enough time, don’t you think?”

Ana nudges her head to the side and the red light easily demolish the rock cage around her. Ellie takes a step back. Her heart pounds hard against her chest in apprehension. Colt steadily gets on his feet and grips her arm tight in his hand. His vision is blurry but he pushes past it.

“El start fighting her like you mean to kill her,” Colt says as he reaches around his back. He pulls his hand and looks at the blood and pieces of burnt skin on his palm. He let’s out a curse. Shit. It’s bad.

Ellie sees his palm and she panics. He’s half-vampire. That’s half the healing speed. If he gets hit with another blast he’s not going to make it. He’s right. He’s right. She needs to fight like she means to kill. If not, they’ll both die.

“I’m surprised the vamp still stuck around Ellie,” Ana coos as she sends forth a string of sharp of red lights towards them. Ellie blocks it with a flick of her wrist while she formulates a plan. “I thought he’d drop you the moment Toby got arrested.”

“You did that?” Colt grits his teeth as he bares his fangs. His eyes taking on a menacing gold.

“Yeah, fun wasn’t it?” Ana cackles as she moves closer. The red lights moves to surround them in a circle that traps them inside. “Josh fucked up though as he always does. I told the idiot to leave the fang marks of Shaw or Toby and he left one of each on them. Take out the competition while I’m at it, you know?”

Ellie moves her body closer to Colt. Their arms pressing against each other. The red lights closing in like snakes ready to strike.

“Colt keep her talking. I have a plan,” She whispers to him.

Colt briefly flicks his eyes to Ellie and gives her subtle nod. He steps forward and shields her away from Ana’s line of sight.

“Yeah? That’s what you get for using a vampire addicted to Libation. They mess up.”

“Right?! It’s soooo stupid!” Ana sighs as she lazily flicks her wrist. The red lights slices the skin on Ellie’s ankles and she winces in pain but keeps herself steady. She places a protective barrier on the back of their thighs as she pours her magic all around her while she focuses on staying undetected. To be invisible. “I mean of all the things he could mess up! Damn and I dated that idiot!”

Colt grits his teeth in a panic when he sees how close the red lights are now. He glances at Ellie. She gives him a look.

A look that says continue. Colt reluctantly agrees.

“What did you do with the blood anyway?” He winces when a red light slices the skin on his leg. But he recovers easily. Those wounds will heal faster.

“Oh that?” Ana laughs before she coughs then thumps her chest. “I gotta drink it everyday for a year to become a true albularyo so it’ll continue to give me the anito’s power to control this,” Ana gestures dismissively to the red lights around her as her face suddenly furrows in confusion.

“You’re…drinking your own parent’s blood?” Colt looks at her in disgust and Ellie momentarily pauses to look back at Ana in horror.

“Hey don’t give me that look,” Ana coughs harder as sweat gathers on her forehead. Confusion now fully taking hold of her face “How can you judge me? You’re a fucking vamp-pire! I had to…I gotta…gotta get it some other way since the-ey didn’t wanna gi-give it to...me.”

Colt narrows his eyes and observes her. Ana’s breath comes out short and she’s coughing harder now. He glances at Ellie in shock and alarm but she doesn’t pay him any attention. She clinches her fist. Willing her magic to work faster as the red lights now lash and lick their legs and leave gashes of red on their skin.

“At least I’ve never killed anyone for their blood.”

Ana lets out a roar of laughter before she clutches her chest. Air is difficult to take in now and she’s gasping. “You should—should try it vamp beau. It’s su—surprisingly fast,” She wheezes and drops to her knees. The red lights flicker and writhe on the ground before they slowly start to disappear. Ana looks up at Ellie. She tries to glare but her eyes glaze over. “What’s—what’s happening?”

“Sudden drop in atmospheric pressure,” Ellie explains before she raises her hands with a wide grin. “You are now currently experiencing what it feels like to be 13,796 feet above sea level. Altitude sickness as some people call it.”

Ellie keeps her hold on Ana as her eyes start to roll back into her head and she drops to the ground with a muted thud.

She lays unconscious.

Ellie quickly manifests new cuffs with her magic as she runs towards Ana. She kneels in front of her and pulls the unconscious girl’s arms behind her back. She links the cuffs on her wrist before she rolls Ana over, places her hand over her nose and mouth, and quickly starts the oxygen therapy.

“Colt come here,” Ellie looks towards the dumbfounded Colt. “I need to keep her on oxygen therapy so she won’t die but I need to see your wounds.”

Colt sluggishly moves towards her before he sits with his back facing her. Ellie moves one hand to lift up his jacket and shirt and she winces when she sees the burns and blood spread out of his back.

“Take off your shirt and jacket. I’ll try to heal it as best as I can, okay?”

“El if you wanted me shirtless all you gotta do is ask,” Colt chuckles as he painstakingly takes off his jacket and shirt. Each movement accompanied with a groan. But the pain minimizes when he feels her magic start to spread out and coat his back and it surprises him how soft and warm her magic feels on his body. Despite the pain still taking hold of his senses, he can’t help but feel the sense of comfort spread out through him.

“I can’t believe you took that blast for me,” Ellie sniffs a little as she moves her hand to a particularly bad burn on the back of his shoulder, he hisses at the pain. “You could’ve died you idiot.”

“Hey, don’t call the guy who just saved your life an idiot,” Colt teases with a wince when she moves her hand to his lower back.

She chuckles wearily as her eyes land on the unconscious Ana whose breathing is now, thankfully, back to normal.

“Thanks Colt…I would be dead without you.”

“Doubt it El,” Colt chuckles as he looks down at Ana a little uneasily. “When I said fight her like you mean to kill her, I didn’t expect you to literally cut off her oxygen. You’re terrifying when you want to be.”

Ellie laughs a little as she finishes her ministrations on his back and finishes Ana’s oxygen therapy. She takes the time to assess the damage on his back and, thankfully, it looks a lot better now and with his vampiric healing it shouldn’t leave too much of a scar.

“And all this time, I’ve been holding back on you.”

“Thank Lucifer for that,” Colt chuckles as he turns around to look at her. His eyes immediately gravitate to the slashes on her pants all over her legs and the blood and wounds beneath it and he grits his teeth and lets out a curse. He can’t quite make out if they’re deep or shallow cuts but he knows it’s going to be painful once the adrenaline wears off.

Ellie tilts his chin to force him to look at her as her blue eyes bore into his golds. “Hey, they’ll heal. I’m fine.”

“Yeah but they’re gonna hurt like hell,” An idea comes to him and he smirks. “Let me help,” He says as he motions for her to sit. She does so confusingly and he takes her right leg and raises it up to his mouth.

“Colt what—”

“Vampire saliva remember?” He smirks at the wide eyed look of understanding she gives him. “You can look if you want.”

She’s definitely not going to do that. She doesn’t think she has the will power and mental fortitude to look him in the eye while he does it. So she looks away and muffles the soft moans that threaten to tumble out of her lips when she feels his tongue press against her skin. The sting of pain is instant but momentary and she tries to think of something else—anything else—to distract herself.

“Done. Give me your other leg,” Colt looks at her and smirks when he sees the blush practically covering her entire face. He raises her left leg to his lips and licks the first wound he sees. “You know Ellie, I change my answer.”

“What? Answer?” She glances at him just in time to meet his eyes as he’s about to lick one of her wounds. Her eyelids drop halfway as she bites the bottom of her lip.

“About how your blood tastes. I have a better answer.”

Now she’s curious. She looks at him fully and his golden eyes hold her darken blues. “How does it taste like?”

He licks one more strip of blood just below her knee before he delivers his answer with a wicked and devilish smile.

“Addicting.”

[typicalmidnightsoul]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼- Chapter 9

𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕚𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗

Let it go, let it leave, let it happen. Nothing in this world was promised or belonged to you anyway. ― Rupi Kaur.

Chapter  1, 2, 3, 4 5, 6 7 8 <- here 

(Adelaide Archeron’s ‘painting’ up above)

With Randolph being gone for extended periods of time Romella had descended upon Prythian much to her sister’s delight.

Nesta had taken an instant liking to her aunt. Her aunt told her stories from all over the world, stories from the other side of Prythian. Nesta was told her family history and she was so excited to be a part of a family with Fae blood.

Nesta was perfect. She was moulded to be like that.

Sent to Etiquette school at 8. She was taught how to play instruments, she was taught ballet, waltz. She was taught etiquette rules from different kingdoms, she knew 5 different languages by the time she was 10. 9 languages by the time she was 11.

But then one day as she was skimming through the library she felt a surge of power burst from…her. She was scared, crying, screaming.

“Its fine Nesta,” Adelaide said bursting through the library doors. Romella clinging to her sister’s side.

She slipped on an iron bangle on Nesta’s wrist. Nesta’s golden skin paled. Suddenly weak.

She gathered the skirts of her blue gown and strode through the halls.

That night, Adelaide and Romella stepped out of the mansion in their hooded cloaks and saddled their horses. Romella carrying Elain as she mounted her horse, Adelaide carrying Feyre, Nesta at front. Their midnight cloaks flowed behind them. They went to the people of the Hill.

Algeron came to them.

“My Lady, what’s wrong?”

“Nesta,” She pushed Nesta in front, “Had her first powers this morning, I need to know-Elain and Feyre will they have their Settling when they’re older too?”

He took each sleeping child in his hands brushing a hand over his brows. “No, they will one day possess powers but not because of their Fae heritage.”

Nesta looked up to the ethereal, towering man.

“Is our fae heritage something to be ashamed of?”

He beckoned her closer, “My dear, your power is an entity of great beauty,” he made a mist figure of a female with beautiful powers helping humans, “But also an entity of great danger and fear, which will incite people to harm and hurt you.” The mist female was smothered by the same people she helped when her power got out of control, Nesta gasped. “The human race is very narrow-minded. Therefore we must try to smother your fae powers.”

“I was proud of my powers.”

“I am afraid my love, there will come a day where you will have to learn to master a power much greater than this, and that power will make you one of the most powerful females of your time.”

She nodded, “My people will show you to conceal your power. There are not many rules. Don’t let it consume you; your coldness will shove it down. The less people there are, the less people getting hurt.”

She left to the females in emerald gowns beckoning to her.

Romella turned to Algeron, “I’m training her.”

Algeron said to her, “There is a great danger coming to her. She must remain defenceless. The Lord above demands it.”

“I don’t care. I am not letting her be defenceless.”

“Ella-” but Romella had left to go to Nesta.

“Leave her Adelaide; she will not stop the inevitable. Let her try to soothe her tormented heart.”

 The green mist changed the scene to Nesta in the bottom floor of her father’s ship checking the new goods. She twirled a diamond chain around her fingers. A thud came from behind she picked up a dagger in a crate next to her.

“Come out, Ruffian” She shouted, “I am the heiress to the Archeron Mantle and I will not be afraid of a vagabond.”

A young boy stood up from the inside of a crate.

“Come into the light.”

He stepped through his hands up in his defence; he had blue eyes with emerald flecks. And pointed ears.

She dropped the dagger, gasping.

She crossed the distance and pushed his hair behind his ears.

“Mr Stowaway you are fae,” she breathed.

His eyes were pleading, “Please my family- they, I have nowhere to go- please just let me walk off this ship safely and you will never hear from me again.”

“Oh no no, you must come with me to my mother, she will help you.” He was confused.

“Help?”

“Oh yes, she’ll know what to do, she’s half fae herself, don’t worry…”

“Oliver…Oliver Bondavich.”

She smiled.

 The green mist changed the scene again

 Christiana had brought her child to meet her sister. Audrey Astor. Audrey, Nesta, Clare and Oliver became as thick as thieves fast. Romella had now met Adelaide every day to strengthen the glamour being put on her whole body to hide the baby bump. Randolph came home for a fortnight at the best, and Adelaide would feign sickness and stay in her room. Then Jonah was born and he was beautiful and Adelaide had begged Drian take him to Rask which he did, but Drian didn’t want to announce him as the heir to the throne, instead he made the first child love his heir. He made Nesta his heir. He had taken Nesta to Rask to meet his mother Vera. Vera’s heart broke at the sight of the small child shackled with an iron bangle.

Then came The Dark Fae. In her last attempt to change her daughters’ fate she called upon some really ethereal people. People who had stuck to their God’s scriptures and called upon different sources of power, the fae people called them witches and warlocks. The parties she threw were now a cover up. King Peirce of the Dark Fae came with his two sons Torin and Tyrus. Nesta took an instant liking to both of them but the bond of a childhood sweetheart formed between her and the boy who kept himself hidden between the worn pages of old books. The boy she stayed with next to that oak tree in front of her father’s house.

 Nesta with her dimples and fringe stepped onto the balcony. She eyed the young boy reading a worn out book. His dark hair fell over his face, his knees curled to his chest.

“Hi” No answer.

She cleared her throat, “Hello.”

He slowly looked up trying to drink in the last few words on the page. He looked at her with curious grey eyes.

“Is my brother causing any issues?”

She chuckled, “No, no not at all. On the contrary he is proving to be quite the…life of the party.” He went back to his book but she wasn’t quite finished, “Has Stephen found out about his cousin’s weird obsession yet.”

He looked up in shock, “It’s not an obsession!”

“Yes it is! Which man would spend his life wanting to be immortal instead of living it to the fullest?!”

“Some people die young and get buried at an older age.”

“Good point. But he killed children.”

“Which is what makes this story so compelling…?” He paused, “What was your name again?” He dropped his legs of the bench. She sat next to him.

“Nesta.” He held out his hand.

“Tyrus.” She shook it.

 The green mist changed the scene. Their clasped hands being the last image to change.

 The day before everything changed. Tyrus and Torin had become frequent visitors. But something in Tyrus had started changing. He had realised that he was getting to close to Nesta, the feelings were not able to be controlled, and he hated that. The voices in his head made him think twice, they told him to leave her. And he, not possessing the courage to deny them came one day to her house under the cover of night.

 “Ty!!” Nesta ran into his arms. He memorised the feel of her under his fingertips. If he didn’t push her away now he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to.

“Nesta, we need to talk.”

Her face scrunched in confusion.

“I am letting you go. I am setting you free.”

Her face scrunched up again but this time tears were forming, “What do you mean?”

“Friendship was ok, but love…is impossible.”

“What-what why? Did I-I” her face fell and she took a shuddering breath.

“You don’t mean that.”

He had to be cruel now. “Really? You’re sure I don’t? Please Nesta a relationship between us would never work out! Loving you would mean destroying me. You would die in the next 70 years anyway what would I do then wallow in grief? No, that’s not me.”

She held a hand at her throat, trying and failing to keep her sobs in. Audrey came out.

“Nes-Tyrus?

She took a look at Nesta’s face.

Tyrus kept his eyes on Nesta, “Goodbye Nesta.”

He turned leaving.

Nesta sank to the floor; her hand outstretched trying to form the words to stop his leaving figure.

Audrey wrapped her hands around Nesta’s shoulders.

“Nesta. He is not coming back.”

“He has too,” she sobbed.

 After that Nesta had asked Romella to start her training. It went on for months and Nesta had developed muscle memory but it was all about to die out.

Ollie’s power was getting vicious he was having sudden outbursts and since iron would permanently harm him, Adelaide was helpless. Nesta, Audrey, Clare and Ollie were in the old clock tower looking down on the village when Ollie had his second outburst. All three of the girls were flung back rendering them unconscious. The surge of power did not go unnoticed by the villagers.

In his last attempt Oliver hid the girls in the corner. Upon seeing his pointed ears the villagers, in their fear had locked him in a cage of ash.

When Adelaide found out she went mad. She sent her sisters away, she sent away Jonah, and she sent away any trace of magic from their lives. But when Nesta woke up there was no force alive stopping her from saving her best friend and ensuring her family got away safely.

 Nesta ran, her hooded cloak trailing behind her in the mud. She hid an axe under her cloak. Getting in was the harder part but she had managed with Clare’s help to create a diversion.

“Ollie!” She held up the axe.

“Nesta! You should not be here!!!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!!” She swung the axe on the ash bars.

“You are rubbish at yielding that!”

“Don’t make me swing it on your face!”

She managed to make a permissible hole which he wsa bale to climb through.

As they were running out a village boy had seen the hole.

“The Fae monster’s gone!”

They ran.

As they ran into the woods, where Feyre would one day hunt to provide for her family Nesta said,

“Go! There’s a ship waiting for you, Aunt Christie is taking you all to Rask for safety, Go!”

He hugged her tightly, “On one condition, you promise me you’ll go straight home, no looking back understood?”

She softened, kissing his cheek, “Yes, now go.”

He nodded and kissed her cheek running off into the dense forest to the sound of the trees.

As his figure disappeared, Nesta whispered,

“I’m sorry Ollie.” The only promise she would ever break.

She ran into the opposite direction, making as much noise as possible, rustling leaves making yelps.

The squires’ men saw her hooded figure and made a run for her, she let herself get caught. They had fallen into her trap.

“She’s a Randolph Archeron’s girl be soft with her men,” The squire himself had arrived he knelt down, “Listen sweetie, you tell me where that fae boy is and I’ll let you hurry on home, how about that?”

She spat in his face.

He took out his hankie, wiped his face and addressed his men.

“Old boy Randolph isn’t home for weeks; he doesn’t need to know anything.” He chuckled at the coldness on her face, “A few weeks in the mental asylum ought to fix her.”

Her face drained of colour but she didn’t yield.

 The scene changed to Nesta being dragged by her hair to the mental asylum. As she went in and the bars clanged shut.

Everything went silent.

And then the void filled with a whip slapping against skin and bone-shattering shrieks. They had taken a child and they were torturing her.

 The squire in fear of Nesta’s father returning had let her out. Nesta had come out physically and mentally broken. Hostile and cold. She came out to find her mother dying.

Feyre and Elain thought that Nesta had been travelling with their father. A weak lie fed by their mother.

Her mother’s last words to her,

“Nesta, warriors are not meant to be coddled, take your shadow off Feyre let her live however she wants to, Do. Not. Stop. Her. Feyre knows what she needs to do.” Her eyes softened, “I will weep in my grave because my gender stopped me from being able to protect my daughter. I am so sorry Nesta, I love you.”

Nesta wept, “I love you too, please.”

Her mother’s eyes drooped, she let out a last shuddering breath and her hand caressed her daughter’s cheek once more.

 The scene changed.

“THE FAE PEOPLE CAN SAVE HER!” Nesta screamed.

“I AM NOT RISIKING THAT!” Randolph roared back.

Nesta sobbed leaving to see her mother one more time, she had tried for the past hour to deal with her father, but he didn’t budge.

 Once more the memory in front of them changed.

It was a pregnant Adelaide with playing with two-yaer-old Nesta on the grass. They were on the floor, their heads next to each other. Cloud watching.  

“Momma?”

“Yes darling?”

“What if you’re gone and I’m still here?”

Adelaide stilled, “Well then…You’ll be all big and you won’t need me anymore.”

She considered, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop needing you.”

 The green mist blew once like a roaring fire.

Clare came to her, next to the oak tree, “Feyre’s gone. You’ve tried to bring her back. What are you gonna do now?”

Nesta brushed her hand over the tree, “I wait.”

Clare nodded wrapping her hand around Nesta’s waist, “Quick question, Nes are you waiting for him?”

“No, I’m done with that other life. I need to focus.”

The mist roared again.

A few years after Nesta had left the night court she had gone back to their old mansion in the continent. She coughed as she pushed the heavy doors. She trailed down the ghost like hallways. After her mother died her father had taken all these paintings and had put them in her mother’s childhood room. She pushed the door of the childhood room and let out a gasp. She sat in front of the paintings.

She stroked the painting,

“Hey momma.”

 The green mist flared and died out.

Tags:

@mis-lil-red

@wannawriteyouabook

@absolute-dissapointment

@skychild29

[andy-loves-corgis]

Enough for you (Drake x MC)

Book: The Royal Romance (Future)

Pairing: Drake X MC, 

Rating: M  (a little NSFW-ish)

A/N: @drakewalkerrosenberg asked me about the biggest fight Riley and Drake had, so here it is. It’s also my first take on married Riley and Drake. I hope you enjoy it.

She gripped the sides of the book she was reading, she could hear the faint music coming from the grand ballroom of her estate, they were holding yet another fundraising ball, this time for flood relief in Portavira, she had promised Penelope and Zeke that she would help them a few weeks ago. Of course, it was before her diagnosis.

Preeclampsia.

The word was engraved in the back of her head and all around her 37-weeks belly, she inhaled deeply again, she felt like her whole existence rested on that word, what once was a happy time for her and Drake was now a nightmare.

The doctor asked her not to step aside from politics during that time.

Even though I’m a fucking duchess in the middle of a conflict of interests with other nobles.

He also suggested bedrest, not all the time, but her ever-so-caring husband wouldn’t let her leave the bed for more than 2 hours, and it wasn’t like he was staying there with her, no. As Duke of Valtoria, Drake had to take on her responsibilities, she had even to hire and assistant to him, since he refused to let her into the turmoil of the negotiations with Cormery Isle.

She was so done with being shut down of everything. When her feet touched the ground, she relished on the feeling of the rug on her bare feet, her hand placed upon her swollen belly, they wanted to be surprised on the sex of their baby, maybe only a couple of weeks and the future Duke or Duchess would grace their household.

She walked to her wardrobe her fingers resting on a rosé dress Ana De Lucca has made specially to this night, it would be a shame if it went to waste, she grinned mischievously, Drake could be mad, but she was sure once he saw her it would all be alright.

Slowly she slipped some rhinestones flats on her feet, being careful to avoid her reflection, she hated how she looked like a hot air balloon in anything she wore. She had to remind herself that it wasn’t the reason why Drake has been turning her down for over a month.

He’s just worried, we all are. You need to get out of mommy, little person, so I can have my hot body back.

Riley snuck her head outside their master suite, feeling excited as she was when she met Drake in the shadows, over 4 years ago. Following the waltzing melodies, she made her way through their halls, taking in the beauty of the paintings hanging there, she missed painting too.

Half hi in the shadows, she scanned the crowd looking for him. If she still knew her husband, he would be… yes, there he was, by the bar. She shook her head, making a mental note to scold him to sneak from his own ball to drink.

Her internal smile died when a tall blonde handed him a tumbler of whiskey, her curves accentuated in a silky silver dress, her blonde hair falling in loose curls around her young face, she laughed heartedly brushing her finger in his upper arm patting his hair and laughing again, throwing her locks over her shoulder. Riley’s gaze turned to Drake that seemed unfazed by her little show, though he seemed to be having fun.

It was his assistant. Amelia D’Angelo, 25 years old, had an impressive resumé at such a young age and appeared very serious on her job. Appeared. For a second Riley closed her eyes, breathing in, she couldn’t let her anger take the best of her, it was a health matter.

“Oh my god, Riley!” she heard the fuzzy sound of Hana’s voice near the door. “I’m so happy to see you”.

“Oh Hana, thank you for coming!” she tried to smile. “I’ll come right back, just need find Drake.”

With a brief hug she marched towards the bar but was stopped by another of her best friends.

“Riley, you came. You are so big!” Maxwell’s eyes glinting, his soft hands touching the sides of her belly.

“Thanks Max” she said gritting her teeth, he could be so dense sometimes, she was about to dodge him when another voice caught her attention.

“What are you doing here.” Drake’s voice was one step from showing how mad he was, his lips on a thin line.

Riley felt her rage coming back, as soon as Amelia walked right behind him looking puzzled.

“Could you excuse us?” Riley used the diplomatic tone she took years to perfect and saw as the girl looked at Drake to confirm, making Riley’s nostrils flare.

“What are you doing here, York?” his use of her maiden name, made her think he wasn’t that mad at her.

“I didn’t want the dress go to waste, besides, I miss dancing with my husband.” She missed too many things, to be honest.

“There’s no way in hell I’ll let you hit this dancefloor, you need rest” he said taking her hand, like a parent with a brat child, leading her to her throne, so she could sit.

“I thought you would be happier to see me, but you seemed like you were having so much fun without me.” She used her most sarcastic tone, the one she knew Drake hated.

“I’m always happy to see you, mostly when you’re happily tucked on our bed, taking care of your health.” His whispers hushed.

“Oh sure, so you can fool around with your new assistant?” the words escaped her mouth before she could think about them.

Never before she had seen Drake so outraged.

“Are you insane?” his voice rising.

She tried to even her breath, but the hot anger boiling inside her was making her dizzy.

“See, that’s what I was talking about.” Now he had gone full mad at her.

Drake took her hand as she forcefully shut her eyes to see if the dizziness lessened, he guided her back to their room in a sepulchral silence. He took her out of her dress, not like all the other times he undressed her after balls, this time was if he wanted to get it over with, seating her on the bed and taking her flats, pressing on her skin to check for swelling.

“I texted Amelia, she will take care of the ball, since I will stay here making sure you don’t leave this bed.” Drake got up taking his jacket off and loosening his tie

Riley chewed on the inside of her cheeks.

“Good to know you are text pals now.” Her voice like venom spilling on her chin.

“What is your problem, Riley?” now she was in danger, using her first name was reserved to either when he was calling her name during sex or when he was angry.

“MY problem? You wanna know my problem?” she was about to get up, but his look made her stay sitting, she knotted her robe around her before continuing. “My fucking problem is that you put me on a golden cage, where I’m not allowed to paint, to talk about my damn job, I can’t barely leave this bed!”

“The doctor said you…”

“So I go there to surprise you, fill myself with a little joy before our world becomes our child and find you getting very close to a staff member?” her sight was blurred, and she felt the tears threatening to fall.

“How can you think that?” she had hurt him. “Not only thinking I would be sleeping around with our staff, but that I would be sleeping around in the first place.”

“You don’t even TOUCH me Drake.” Hot and wet strings crossing her face. “You barely look at me twice, so… so I should understand I’m not funny, or hot anymore because I’m sick and could hurt our child.”

She gave in to the sobs, after a few seconds she felt his arms wrap around her. She tried to fight him at first, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“I love you, York. 7 years ago, you came into my life like a distant dream, I would never do anything that could risk what we have.” He whispered in her hair, making her cry even harder. “I’m sorry.”

He laid her on the bed and stroke her hair until her sobs died down and she drifted to sleep.

Two hours later she woke up to a buzzing sound, Drake sound asleep beside her, still wearing his suit. She reached to her nightstand, but wasn’t on her side of the bed, drowsily grabbing Drake’s phone instead.

Amelia Assistant 45 minutes ago: Hello Mr. Walker, just so you know, the party went well, though you were fairly missed.

Amelia Assistant 10 minutes ago: I enjoyed our conversation today and think that our work together is really paying, if you want to relax after everything that happened with your wife, you can meet me.

Amelia Assistant Now: I’m waiting for you at your office.

A breath caught on her throat, she knew that there was something to suspect and it wasn’t her husband, now, it wasn’t the hot-blooded anger she used to feel, it was an icy determination. She carefully moved Drake’s arm from around her and put on her slippers, marching across the halls into her office, which Drake had been using.

“I knew you wanted this too, Mr. Walker…” Amelia turned around, wearing a silky black nightdress and a terrified look on her face once she met the Duchess. “Your Grace, is everything alright?”

“Good evening, Miss D’Angelo” Riley smiled at her, watching her pull the neckline of her skimpy nightdress up. “Please, sit.”

“Do you want me ask someone from the staff for a more comfortable chair for you, Your Grace?” Amelia kept pulling her hair behind her ear.

“Oh that’s very kind from someone wanting to fuck my husband.” Riley’s voice dripped sweetness, but her face was devilish. “Don’t worry, I’ll stand. It won’t take long.”

“Your Grace I wasn’t… I…” she started to speak, but Riley cut her.

“You know that my main flag for this duchy is Women’s Rights and Feminism, so the first thing I did was suspect my husband, someone who took a bullet from me, but I was wrong, I see…”

“I fell in love, he didn’t even bother to bring your name up in conversations.” Amelia’s tone was sharp, disgusted, making Riley rise one brow.

“You see, Amelia. I know girls like you.” She took two steps towards the table. “You think you’re entitled to everything, that you are better than the wives of the men you seduce, you trust your face and your body so much, but if we take all of that, what’s left? Nothing.”

The girl gulped.

“Eight years ago, I was serving tables and Drake was taking care of the stables, and if I had not be given this duchy, I would’ve happily moved back to the U.S with him, to serve tables happily and live in a hole-in-wall apartment, just to sleep by his side every night. He didn’t even bring my name in conversations because you’re not even worthy to hear my name.” Riley stood royally above Amelia, who trembled in fear and anger.

“Are you going to fire me?”  Amelia asked, without meeting Riley’s gaze.

“No.” Riley stated, and the girl looked puzzled at her. “I’d rather see you work every day under the whispers of the staff, who will certainly know about this little conversation, and seeing how a man who respects his woman treats someone who doesn’t. Have a good night, Miss D’Angelo.”

Riley turned to the door and met Drake on the other side.

“I saw the messages and I was about to come and fire her, but I think you handled that pretty well” he smirked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Let’s go back to sleep, this child is throwing a party in my womb” her hand held her stomach as their child moved.

Drake laid with his head on the side of her belly, caressing and whispering to it until they fell asleep.

Riley woke up late on the next day, with the sound of Drake in jeans and white Henley getting in the room with breakfast.

“Rise and shine, my love” he set the tray next to their bed and sat beside her.

“I woke up with a resignation letter on my table. Looks like I don’t have an assistant anymore.” He grinned.

“Oh what a pity.” Riley feigned sadness.

Drake lowered his head to kiss her.

“And I also wanted to say that…” he moved his lips to her ear “Hearing you last night was so hot.”

Riley hummed, biting her lip as one of his hands found her breast, rolling her nipple in his fingers.

“Maybe I can show you how much…” his hands were about to travel south when she held his wrist.

Drake looked puzzled at her.

“Drake, I think my water broke…”

.

Tagging people who might like it: @agent-bossypants; @silviasutton1989; @sleepwalkingelite; @ooo-barff-ooo; @likethetailofacomet

[dietaku]

Amazing Quest 1: Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Heart of a Pudding

(You find yourself exactly where Chapter 6 left off, with Kord mumbling to himself about his incompetent peers)

Hiro: So, are we cool, or....

Kord: Oh, yeah, man, we're the best of buds!

(Kord gives him a slap on the back that sends him flying)

Kord: Oh, uh....HAHA! TAKE THAT!

(He does the same to the rest of the party)

Kord: Ha! No one's the wiser! Kord, my man, you are one smooth operator!

You land nearby a gigantic looming tower with a unique sprite and a large city. Welcome to Gemadne, and ironically, this is only about 2 screens northeast of where you were! Yeah, you could've walked here in five minutes, even if you factored in the random encounters.

--Gemadne, the City of the Dark Puddings--

This place is gloomy and not at all enheartening. The locals mention how the winters are cold, and that food is stale and tasteless, being grown on the irradiated plains nearby. If you talk to an elderly man in the pub, he mentions how in ancient times, a battle between two goddesses warped the land and caused their current misfortune, but considering this is next to a clown doing a juggling act who yells “KATZU BICYCLE SOUP!”, you can take that for what it's worth. However, you need to go to the large dome on the northeast side.

(Man in a robe): Hey, you guys are new....and that scar! You must be the ones.

Hiro: Are you going to fight us?

Man: Naw. I'm on your side. Kind of. You can call me House Man (No, seriously. This is his name in Japanese as well. His name was translated into German as Hausen Mensch, and, the series director liked it so much, she kept that as his name. And now that I've sufficiently raised the blood pressure of veteran AQ players...) So, you want to challenge Zoddon? He's tough and wise, but you can do it. However, I'd recommend going in here first. You'll need this, though (He hands Hiro the PAPER)

Hiro: Is this just a piece of paper?

House Man: NO! It's PAPER

Hiro: Ooooooh.

In any case, head over to the door, where a guard awaits us. With the PAPER, we can now pass, lest the guard turn us away for being unqualified.

Guard: Papers, please.

Hiro: (Presents PAPER)

Guard: Ooh, nice!

Hiro: Eh?

(Hiro looks at the PAPER, and realized there's a picture of a woman's butt on the other side)

Moore: Nice!

Loyroll: Eeeeeh.

Hiro: I...I'll be going now.

Welcome to the Pudding Shrine

--Pudding Shrine--

This area is a stark marble building, with robed monks and nuns slowly processing through. Don't attack them (You get the option if you talk to them), as they do nothing but pray as you hack them down, and really, it's not worth it, as they give pittances of gold and exp. Continue on, and you'll see various portraits of apparently famous people, and on the west side, you can see a trio of large statues, one of Zoddon, one of Jaydea, and the third being a woman whose face is cracked and marred, making it unrecognizable. On the east side, you find a giant slab titled the “Wall of Memory, and all the Dark Puddings you killed are marked here. However, as soon as you stop reading it...

Armored man with flared eyebrows: Impressive, is it not?

Armored woman with a flash of white in her green hair: The Light Pudding, so weak with his P-Centage, and yet he has bested five of our siblings.

Man: PRAETORIAN LAA

Woman: PRAETORIAN TII

Laa: These halls, where the ghosts of our comrades cry out, is a fitting locale for our duel. Now, draw your weapon. You must answer to your ancestors!

Tii: Say your prayers to the finest of Zoddon's Praetorians, Light Pudding!

Hiro: Who are you guys again?

Laa: LET US DO RIGHTEOUS BATTLE!

Hiro: Seriously! Did you listen?

Kimyawa: Hiro-nii-chan, they just introduced themse--

Tii: AAAAARGH!

Loyroll: Let it go, sis

Hiro: HIYAAAAAAAAH!

Kimyawa: S-sumimasen...

--Boss Fight!--

Praetorian Laa x1

Praetorian Tii x1

Laa

LP: 36000

MP: 3500

Tii

LP: 36000

MP: 3500

You're probably thinking, “Oh, these two won't be so hard. None of the other Praetorians were that hard. HAHAHAHAHA....HA.  No. These guys don't let up. Laa begins the fight by “Flaring up a Storm,” and then casting 'Storm Shield, that cuts all physical damage by half. This includes Pudding Forms. Tii, on the other hand, will begin by engaging her Pudding Form, and attacking with “Frozen Custard Tart” which inflicts water damage and also has a good chance of Depression. As if this weren't bad enough, when you defeat one, the other will “Steel their brow” and then being to use “Pudding Braver,” a move that hits all party members for large water and air damage. Press on, and you can do it!

--Boss Fight!--

Laa: Urgh, e-even with our combined power....

Tii: I'm s-sorry, my siblings....

Laa and Tii: (Explodes)

Hiro: Just like the others, they all are willing to sacrifice themselves for Zoddon's ambition. C'mon! We need to stop him.

Ozma: YEAH!

Kimyawa: HAI!

Loyroll: Hear, hear!

Mancala: Yeah, whatever!

Deima: C'mon, then!

Hiro: YEAH, I...

(Hiro hears a squeaky noise he hasn't heard since--)

Hiro: WAIT!

You then have to search around for the noise, and cannot leave as Hiro cites “This is super important,” the source of the noise is the upper right corner of the room. Inspecting it now will open a hidden door. Go down the stairs to enter a caged room where someone we haven't seen in over thirty hours now is sitting.

Hiro: EMILIA! YOU'RE ALIVE?!

Emilia: Oh, hey, I thought you were the guard. They gave me tacos last night, and YECH, my bucket needs to be changed.

Hiro: I WAS SO WORRIED, AND—Oooh, urgh, yeah, you're right.

Emilia: Sorry. Who are all these people?

Hiro: These are my friends! We're here to save you and stop the Dark Puddings!

Emilia: Stop them? You?

(A clanking noise begins as a feminine robot appears)

Robot: YES, HOW AMUSING, STOPPING THE DARK PUDDINGS. TIME FOR YOUR DAILY MEAL AND BATH, EMILIA, AND FOR ME TO TAKE OUT THE RUBBISH!

--Boss Fight!--

Nannydroid x1

LP: 43000

MP: 4500

After the Praetorians, this is nothing, She's fond of “Hell Duster” a hit-all earth based move, and “Take out the Trash,” a move which can instantly kill one party member while inflicting Drunk on another, both of which are randomly selected, but she isn't too tough.

--Boss Fight!--

Emilia: Anyways, You...You came for me. I thought you were going to curl up into a ball and Ladd or Lady would come, but you...I'm proud of you, bro! And, you also got yourself some nice friends.

(Turns to the party) Look, I see where you all are coming from, but he's emotional and  naive. If ANY of you break his heart...No monster, devil or sealed ancient death goddess will stop me from tracking you down. GOT IT?

Party: ….

Nannydroid: M-must take out trash. Executing final cleansing routine

(She explodes, vaporizing the entire building, leaving the party in the rubble of Emilia's cell, with Emilia huddled behind a wall.)

You then can talk to her, where in Japanese, she'll complain of a draft. In the Localized version, she yells at you for not having stopped the Nannydroid from self-destructing. You see, the blast very clearly blew Emilia's pants off, even in the Localized version.

Emilia: Goddammit! Hiro! You can't leave me like this!

Hiro: I'M SORRY!

Emilia: I'm staying RIGHT HERE until you fix this!

Now, the trick to rescuing her, and making her playable is not what you'd imagine. The canny among you would scour the globe for “Pants” armors or items. The amusing thing is, the solution is right in front of you. You know, how you pay Loyroll to use better swords? Well, if you get to his tenth sword, the Plasmium Blade, you get the option of upgrading again. If you do so, he'll upgrade to Emilia's Saber, that energy saber Emilia used in the opening fight. How Loyroll came across this, we'll never know. However, if Loyroll has it, and you talk to Emilia...

Emilia: Oh, hey, one of your girlfriends has my sword, give it here!

Loyroll: My dear lady, I'm a ma--

Emilia: Yeah, sure, whatever, toots (Steals the sword out of Loyroll's hands) I'm pretty sure I've kissed girls more manly than you.

Hiro: Wait, WHAT?

Emilia: What happens in Girl Pudding Summer camp STAYS in Girl Pudding Summer Camp!

And with that, Emilia leaves her wall, and joins the party! Yes, she wasn't complaining about her lack of pants, but her lack of a weapon. Go fig. Anyways, you now can explore the ruins of the Pudding Shrine, where if you go near where the three statues were, the one with the broken face is still mysteriously intact. Go behind it, to go down a hidden flight of stairs, where you'll find a blue-haired woman in a robe.

Woman: Halt? Who dares challenge the wielder of the power of....Emilia? Hiro?

Emilia: Wait, MOM?

Hiro: I...I thought you died?

Mom: No, I was taken here by those damnable brats years ago. However, they couldn't kill me. So, they locked me up here! However, I can see it in your eyes. Your quest of vengeance! Very well, if you wish to wield my power, you must battle me!

Emilia: Hiro! This is it! We must fight as one!

Hiro: R-right?

--Boss Fight!--

Saint Cocoa x1

LP: 50000

MP: 6000

You only get Emilia and Hiro for this fight, but that's all you need, if you're smart. If you proceed with brute force, you'll get destroyed, as Cocoa will engage her Pudding Form, and more or less go Super Saiyan. She'll blast you with “Pudding Stream” a powerful magic attack that ignores magic defense, and “Rich Flavor” which will raise all her stats based on the last digit of your gold. Yes, YOUR amount of money powers up Cocoa. When she gets down to half health, she'll begin abusing “Cut your teeth,” a move where she randomly punches the party ten times for physical damage. This can be dangerous, especially if she focuses on Hiro. However, if you are strategic, and abuse Emilia's Steam Breath in her Pease Pudding form, you can win!

--Boss Fight!--

Mom: Emilia, Hiro. I-I'm so glad I could see you before I pass on...You are both members of the Royal Pudding Line, and within you is the power of [Golden Choco Majesty]. Realize it within yourselves, and it will be you's! Now, with that, farewell...

(Mom collapses, dead)

House Man: (Claps) Excellent! I knew you could do it! Now, you can fight Zoddon on even terms!

Hiro: Uh, thanks?

You can now proceed to Gemadne Keep. Well, you could do so before, perhaps advisable, to acquaint yourself with Emilia's skill set, but you would be hard pressed to be able to beat Zoddon as you were.

--Gemadne Keep--

This gigantic fortress is just as gloomy as the town it stands before, with “Dark Pudding Veterans, Dark Pudding Survivors, and Dark Pudding Centurions,” all as common enemies. Funnily enough, the GBA version retains an amusing programming error, where a certain corner of the third floor has a tile which always queues up a battle with three Veterans and a single Dark Pudding Rookie, the kind that you'd fight in Ddimopint, way back in the first section of the game. The fans loved him so much, he shows up as an Easter egg in various places in later AQ remakes,  known as Dark Survivor Zechs.

Returning to important matters, the trick of Gemadne Keep is the elevators, as each goes to only certain floors and you need to find the right ones to proceed. Basically, my best advice is to go left to right as far as you can, and those elevators will be the ones you need to use to proceed.  When you get to a single large room, you're where you need to be.

Zoddon: (Sitting in a large throne) Light Pudding. You arrived. I am genuinely impressed. You have a cut a path through my subordinates for your own ambition. However! Your burning passion and my own can not coexist in this world! Whose will be doused?

Emilia: OH MY LULZ! SHUT UP, ZODDON!

Zoddon: Hm? And the Sword God has been freed? You are a truly implacable man. Very Well! Steel Yourself, Light Pudding!

--Boss Fight!--

Dark Pudding Lord Zoddon x1

LP: 75000

MP: 5500

Zoddon, is, understandably, the hardest boss up to this point, as his LP count might indicate here. He will engage his “Noble Pistachio Pudding Form,”  and then begin his assault. He is fond of using 'Burning Ambition,” a move which inflicts heavy fire damage on one target, and “Towering Presence,” an earth move which deals heavy damage to one target and deals splash damage to adjacent party members. He also rarely will raise his sword. Be wary, as his next action will be the devastating “Pudding Grande Destroy” or in Japanese “Boddhisattva Pudding Ignorance Cleaver,” which deals a huge amount of Light-based damage. My best advice is to use Emilia's “GET BACK” action, which causes all non-Puddings to flee, which might seem bizarre until you see what the Golden Choco Swirl does. It is an androgynous, golden figure with glowing aura and flashing eyes. It screams in an auto-tuned voice with each attack, and has a chance of doing either “Pudding Slice,” a single physical move, “Golden Slam,” a powerful light elemented magic attack, or “Golden Aura Slice,” a physical move which hits all enemies and induces Depression. If you can land one of thees, then you'll most likely be pleasantly surprised to see it shave off 9999 damage off of Zoddon.

“Great,” I hear you say,” Why don't I use this swirl all the time?” because this form is berserk. You can't chose who you hit, and many times, Hiro will take his time blowing away his own friends, drunk on the massive influx of power the fusion with his sister provides.

So, yeah, now you see why I don't recommend doing this fight with everyone around.

--Boss Fight!--

Zoddon: (Clutches his bleeding chest) I...I see. Your will is stronger. Listen to this man's final words, Light Pudding. Light, Dark. These aren't Good or Evil. Nor are they families. They are your Will. Go now, Go with my sister, and forge a world where Puddings rule. We have been trampled countless times in the past, and yet we are the strongest clan on the planet. Your mother aided us, once. We worked together to build this place and free others from the Golden Tribe. With you and Emilia, now, we could wipe away all the chaos and produce a world free of strife. Be that man....

(Zoddon collapses)

Emilia: Goodbye, Zoddon.

Ozma: Is this it? Did we win?

(Jaydea runs in, a look of pure shock on her face)

Jaydea: ZODDON! ZODDON! ANSWER ME! THEY....They killed you!

Hiro: Give it up, Jaydea! Your brother wanted us to work together! Listen to his request! You can't win!

Jaydea: Oh? Do you know what I need to unlock the Goddess?

Emilia: The blood of a Royal Pudding and the Five Talismans, right?

Hiro: And we have three of them!

Jaydea: Hehehehe, correct. And, well, you're wrong, too. Y'see...Do you remember when I let you borrow my razor?

Emilia: Yeah, I cut my le—Oooooh, you bitch....

Jaydea: Yup! And on top of that? Remember that one weekend at Girl Pudding Summer Camp?

Emilia: You bitch, you promised we'd never speak about tha--

Jaydea: (Produces a walkman with a microphone) “I'm lonely. I miss my little brother, and I'm cold, could I sleep with YOU?” Do you want me to continue? If so, I can. If not, give me the Talismans.

(Emilia, face beet red, rummages in her backpack, producing the Talismans as the Party can only look on in shock)

Jaydea: Thank you! (Warps away)

Hiro: (In a squeaky voice) Sister....WHY???

Kimyawa: BAKA BAKA BAKA! WE'RE ALL DEAD NOW!

Mancala: I wonder if I can get a coffin sale going?

Deima: Relax, we can still win! It takes a while to unlock Halst, and she needs to GET to the seal first!

Hiro: Where IS that?

Deima: The Tower of Zyrtroph, the Flying Dragonfish.

(You might have seen a giant floating...thing out in the middle of the ocean. THAT is where the seal is. However, we're going to ignore that in Chapter 8 as we do a roundup of ALL the remaining side missions and fetch quests available.! See you then!)

[fatbottombucky]

Stick With Me, Kid *Negan x Reader* (2/?)

Summary: Negan finds a little girl, no more than ten, amongst a car wreckage, after finding out she’s alone in the world. He takes her as his own, raising her through the apocalypse. If there’s one thing that his greatest pride but also his biggest weakness, it’s his daughter, Y/N! Ratings/ warnings: Teen, mentions of blood and violence. I feel like, Negan as a dad is a warning. Writers Notes: This doesn’t really have a set plot, it will follow alongside season 6 & 7, I’m unsure if I’ll make it so Carl and reader have a thing. But… I got big feels seeing Negan and Judith.

Notes: I had this idea last year, I wrote a few parts and then forgot about it. Now here I am, uploading it because I miss writing Negan! - Rosalee

Chapter One: Everybody Dies

Chapter Two: Not Everyone Is Gonna Wanna Save Ya!

You were silent and nervous at the new place with Negan and his men. The night you arrived people looked at you oddly, even more so due to the fact you clung to Negan like glue. The only person you really trusted, trust was a stretch, he was safe. The morning after, he passed you off to a woman named, Mary. You didn’t see him for a few days after that.

Mary, whilst she was nice wasn’t safe. It was also boring, Negan’s policy of living was different to the one you had come from; you pull your weight, you are rewarded or something to that extent. Being the youngest out of everyone wasn’t fun, Negan allowed you time to adjust, meaning you had nothing to do but wait till Mary got back to her room.

You prided yourself on being adventurous. You used to somehow always manage to leave your mother’s overbearing side, a door which unlocked, wasn’t going to stop you from looking around. Negan’s community was in some kind of warehouse, huge and industrial, it housed many people; more than your last community. You didn’t see any harm in looking around, seeing exactly what this place was like. Stretching on your tippy-toes you opened the door, peeking out and then walking out into the cold corridor, shutting it with a little click before carrying on your adventure.

Throughout your little adventure, you had to hide, not to be seen or spotted by one of Negan’s men, you didn’t exactly know if you were allowed to just walk around and you didn’t exactly want to find out the answer to that question.

You came to door, the window looking out was shining sunlight, you smiled and pushed it open. The rays of golden light hitting your face instantly, warming you up a little. You walked out and see a line-up of motorcycles, various colours and styles, you also spotted two men with their backs to you. Leather jackets, jeans and talking loudly amongst themselves, you swiftly turned and walked around the corner of the building.

You noticed a tall, caged fencing, with a frown you stepped closer and through the panels of woods that reinforced the fencing you could see movement. You recognised that sound, the sound of growling and frustrated grunts, yet you still looked. It was some kind of obstacle course, various junk was scattered and those people admitted throughout.

Then from the right, suddenly, a man began to violently shake the fencing for attention. His clothes were just sweats, grey with a large ‘H’ spray painted on in yellow. He had this terrified look in his eyes, they were locked on you and he was panting heavily, sweating under the sunlight.

“Little girl,” he rattled the fence. “You gotta help me,” he persisted, “Open the gate, please?”

Stepping back, it made him rattle the fence in frustration. “Why are you in there?”

“Because I tried to leave,” he tells you, “they found me and brought me back here, please. Just open the gate, I gotta get outta here,” he begged and you nodded once but before you can walk a hand is placed on your shoulder.

It’s large and warm, judging by the man’s wide, shocked eyes you know who it is. You look up as Negan is giving a hearty smile to the man behind the fence, you recognise two of the men from a few nights ago beside Negan.

“Well, hello to you too, Bill,” Negan calls out, “I see you met our newest resident, Y/N, I hope you weren’t trying to make her open that gate. Get her in trouble, get her thrown in there with you, I’d hate for another life be on your hands.”

Negan was clean shaven, leather jacket zipped up and the same baseball bat in his left hand, he had a menacing grin plastered on his face. The other guy, behind the fencing, named Bill was clinging to the metal; shaking under Negan’s stare. You could hear the slight rattling of the fence under the white-knuckled tightness of Bill’s hands, you frowned at his terrified eyes, did he actually deserve to be in there?

“Mike, take Bill to his… room, I’ve got to have words with this little sweetie.” Negan grabbed your hand with his right, pulling you a little forcefully away from the caged area and around the building. A few men littered, watching guard and a few working on the massive trucks. “Where’s Mary?” It was a simple question, yet, you didn’t know the answer.

You lightly shrugged, still holding his hand. “I don’t know,” your voice was small and delicate amongst the loud noises around you. “I didn’t intend to get caught, you know,” he let out a loud chuckle at that.

“A little smart ass,” he commented before he stopped walking. “I didn’t put you in Mary’s care for you to wander off and talk to our castaways,” you look over your shoulder, trying to still see where Bill was kept and Negan chuckled. “We survive. We provide security to others. We bring civilisation back to this world. We are the Saviors.” He gestured around, the men all nodding, “And people who don’t abide by the rules, get punished, Bill, didn’t tell you that he ransacked our medicine, and killed three men in the process of him ‘leaving’. Fair punishment, fitting for his crime.”

You were silent for a minute. “Am I going to go in there?”

“No. Unless you break the rules,” he looks down at you. “I get it. You’re adventurous, curious about this place. It’s okay, I just don’t want you running around alone, not a lot of the men here are very forgiving if you get in their way.” You gave a little nod, “you’ll get used to living around here soon enough,” Negan name is then called, “I’ll have someone take you back to Mary’s room. No more wondering without supervision, got it?” You nodded and he did back before walking around you.

Two Days Later

“He has bigger things to worry about than a little girl,” Mary tells you walking through the Sanctuary’s corridors. “He’s busy still proving to everyone around here he’s leader, it’s a climb to get everyone to completely trust you, he has to be seen as alpha around here. He can’t do that with a little girl clawing at his leg, can he?”

Mary was a small, agile women. Blonde hair and kind eyes, it was easy to see why Negan trusted you with her, he passed you off to motherly figure. There probably wasn’t many around and she seemed to be the only one, so far, that wasn’t cold and horrible towards you.

“He’s trying to lead all these people?” You asked walking into the workhouse, she chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, he has his second in command, Simon.” You remembered Simon, he hadn’t been around much. “Negan has outposts for miles around, a lot of the soldiers are at those with communities of their own. I was at one before this, I was brought here to look after you,” she nudged and you smiled a little.

There were tables all lined up, piles of either food or clothing on them. Mary had explained the point system to you, this was the first time you had seen it played out. It reminded you of the Flea Markets your mother used to take you to before all of this. There was a man dealing with medicine, another women with food and other necessities a human may need.

“Did you used to get allowances?” Mary asked you nodded lightly. “Well, this is that. You earn points and you spend those points on stuff here, it’s pretty simple and easy to follow, you have few that still try to get around the system. It’s our way of life, now yours!”

You followed Mary around as she got food, a few little things that she needed, she was nice enough to get a chocolate bar for you.

“Don’t wonder off, stay where I can see you, kay?” You nodded and walked around the large warehouse room.

The bustling of people, lining up for what they wanted or needed. You slowly strolled around, eating the chocolate, getting bumped into and pushed around because of how small you are. You peeked over a table, smiling at the man sitting behind it, clothes piled on the surface.

“You must be the new resident,” he amused. His ageing face was either due to the torment of today’s problems or just him ageing. “Must be a big change,” he sighed.

You nodded, “It was a lot smaller and I lived in a house,” he nodded, “and everyone shared what was found, you didn’t have to work or earn, it was given.” He perked up at that, “Maybe that’s why it failed?”

“Nonsense,” He smiled. “That sounds like our new worlds, a new paradise,” you chuckled lightly, “Who knows, maybe, one day that will happen here. I’m Martyn.” He sighed but stands up, you frown and turn seeing two of Negan’s men walking over, shoulders tense.

“Leftie,” The bald one called, “Wade needs new jeans, whatcha got?” Not even glancing down at you as he comes around the table, lightly knocking into you.

The man, Martyn, sighed. “Again? That’s his third pair this month,” causing the man beside you to chuckle at that. Martyn shifted through the clothes he had laid out, “in your own time, leftie.” It was only when he struggled to go through the clothes you noticed one arm, the other sleeve was pinned to keep out of the way.

“He’s going as fast as he can,” you speak up with a little frown, Martyn shakes his head at you but you ignore it. Both men look at another with raised eyebrows, “His name is Martyn, not Leftie!”

The shorter one of the two, light red hair, almost blonde knelt down. “Listen, little girl, let the adults take care of this.” He smiled, “Just cause Negan brought you here doesn’t mean you can mouth off, you don’t get no privileges.”

Mary came running up, closing her hands around your shoulder and giving apologetic smiles to both of Negan’s soldiers. “I am so sorry, I told her not to go wandering off,” you looked up at her as she glared down at you but shakes her head.

“Mary, I don’t want to have to tell, Negan, that you can’t handle the child,” He stands up and she nods once. “Teach her some manners, when to keep her little mouth shut, we then won’t have a problem.”

“Y/N,” you tell him and he frowns, “My name is Y/N, you give basic respect, you receive basic respect; what my dad used to say.” Mary chuckles and tucks you under her arm, a little behind her as the man glares at you.

Martyn butts in with handing the jeans, muttering apologies for taking so long. You were glaring at the two men who took the jeans, giving Martyn a few words before turning to Mary, looking her over once. Their scowls made your skin crawl.

“Well, little girl, you’re here because your daddy is dead. Got it? So, whatever that useless fuck taught you are now forgotten. You respect people higher than you, that’s about everyone in this goddamn place, ya hear?” You looked to the floor, the harshness of his words tugging at your heart. Mary gave a disapproving glare to the men.

“She’s a child,” Her voice laced with motherly venom, you had heard your mother talk with the same harshness a few times before.

“No, she ain’t. In this new world, children either get killed or get you killed, don’t let it be the latter Mary, I’d hate to see you killed.” Both men nodded at Martyn, glaring at your silently crying form before leaving.

Mary took you back to her room, wherein she over a few rules to you. Mostly, not talking ANY of Negan’s men unless, completely, necessary. Negan had already said that his men aren’t entirely sympathetic, you just didn’t really think of it till now. She also told you not to go walking around on your own, even Negan said that, but you needed to talk to him.

Mary had given you a brief tour, not that you remembered where everything was, but you had the general direction to Negan’s living quarters. You heard a few female voices, you peeked from behind the wall and see three women talking before walking through a door, you frowned and snuck up behind them.

Pushing the door open silently, it was a big room and it had just those women inside. A bar was settled in the back, lavish chairs and it seemed music was playing, you hadn’t heard actual music in a while.

“Y/N?” A loud voice called your name, it caused the three women to look at you, you gave a shy smile before looking to see Negan walking towards you. “I specifically told you to not wander around alone!”

He stops a little short in front of you, crossing his arms in question. “I wanted to speak with you, I didn’t know how to find you without wandering.”

Instead of answering, he leans forward and pulls the door shut and taking your right hand, again, leading you down the corridor away from the room. He came to a door where he opened it, it was a bedroom, you skipped inside and he chuckled slightly as you sat in one of the armchairs he had settled by the window.

He followed sitting in the opposite one, raising an eyebrow as you looked, incredibly tiny against the overly large chair. “What did you need to talk to me about that couldn’t wait for you to get Mary to bring you to me? Is it about Mary? What’s she like? I’ve known her since the beginning, I figured she’d be good for you. She had two sons; you settling in a’right?”

“Fine, Mary is great, better than most of the people here.” He raised his eyebrows at that, “your men are rude. They treat anyone who is ‘below’ them poorly,” you expected some kind of response but Negan chuckled. You often got that type of response from adults when trying to be serious, often calling you ‘ferocious like a kitten!”

Negan stopped chuckling, “Listen, kid. I get it, you came from a little community that worked like equals, honestly, I wish it could be that way here. But you got to establish that the men who go out and risk their lives for them, for me, even for you now, well yeah; they deserve a new level of respect. The soldiers, my soldiers, are excluded from the point system because they deserve that privilege.”

“But they’re mean for the sake of it,” you frowned a little and Negan sighed.

“I can’t help it if people are sensitive to that,” he shrugs and that made you frown more, “You gotta develop a thicker skin to survive. You gotta work for what you want, work hard in order to get what you need, I can’t always have your back. Mary isn’t gonna always be lookin’ out for you, I’m not either, you can’t just come to me because someone isn’t treating you like a child; you aren’t one, not anymore.”

You remained silent letting his words sink in. You hated to admit it but he seemed right, you couldn’t rely on him nor Mary, plus maybe you were too sensitive. Martyn was a man, you didn’t know and you stuck up for him, he probably doesn’t care about being called ‘Leftie’. You gave a small nod, Negan nodded.

**

After your talk with Negan, you remained quiet when around Negan’s men. You didn’t want to say anything to upset them, yet it seemed you had created a feud, the two soldiers from days ago had a grudge against you. On purposefully knocking into you, telling the workers to only deal with your points when Mary was with you; only Mary was out scavenging with a small group.

It was a problem, a real one. Yet, Negan’s words echoed in your head; you can’t act like a child and go running to him when in need, you had to handle this yourself. So, that’s what you decided to do, it wasn’t going so well.

“Mary is out, I need this now,” You try to sound stern but it comes out more of a plea, the women working the food table, the broth bubbling in the pan gives a sympathetic smile. The soldier, Smith, known by his last name because there are four other John’s was standing with his arm crossed. The shorter one from when you first met Martyn. “I have all the points together, I’ve been helping with laundry, what’s the big deal?” You asked.

“You’re a child, we can’t just give you things because you may or may not have earned it, your guardian has to do that for you.”

“You can’t have it both ways,” he frowns at you, “I’m either a child or not, you can’t tell me one week to learn to be an adult and then today say I can’t buy soup because I am not an adult, so what am I?” Your little rant caused the attention of everyone to turn, you didn’t realise your usually small voice was now a yell.

Smith didn’t like that, he stepped towards you with a new fire in his eyes, the mocking smile he had was now gone and replaced with a sneer. “Listen, you no good cow, you should have died the day Negan brought you here. In fact, he should have left you, but he showed all of us his soft side. No wonder he has to work harder to prove himself, he let a stupid bitch like you live,” you backed up a step, knocking into a table as he continued to stalk to you. “Yeah, nothing to say now, no one to stupidly look out for you too. Look around you, not everyone is gonna wanna save ya, not everyone is as stupid as Negan was on that day.”

“Or compassionate,” you say before you can think. “That’s what makes him good, better than you-”

Before you can finish a force so harsh knocks you off your feet. A deep pain is stinging your cheek, your whole face really, but mostly a burning sensation is stricken on your left side. Tears welling up in your eyes, you look up at Smith who is leering over your body as everyone around is too stunned to move.

“You really, really, shouldn’t have done that Smith.”

(So, long chapter, I know. Hopefully, everyone likes this. Totally am not hinting Mary is Mary Winchester, I kinda am, it’s funny too. Love me. Let me know what you think, that helps me lot. - Rosalee)

SWMK Tagging: @trinswhimsys @kari-ayam @lawrysawry @amazingmackenzieisnotonfire @mrsmalek1998 @crowleysqueenofhell @imperatricecjk @moonlight-devotion @nohatarek17 @batjoker12 @lovepizza-cake11 @sora-goofy-donald @theonlyone-meeeee @completelyxaesthetic (comment or ask to be tagged specifically for this.)

Everything Tagging list: @girl-next-door-writes @22ifyoukeepmenextoyou @t3-daria-todo @sebby-staan @skylark50 @thegoddamnfeels @gillibean9 @sergeantjamesbarnes107th @full-of-sins-not-tragedies @fxcknbarnes @broncos5soslover @say-my-name-assbut@fangirlwithasweettooth @buckyismybbz @charlotteblanden @wholockiand@momscapris @mashroom-burrito @firewolfkelly @winterboobaer

@mychocolatemints @avengingthesupernatural @usannika @itzelreader @tillytheinvisibleshadow @tomhollahd @imagining-marvel-soldier @oh-my-gravity @what-the-ducky-bucky @heyitssilverwolf @katiegrace122 @newtmas-newtella @sillylittlemary  @buckyhawk @codexofwitches @the-the-sound-of-the-bees-blog @songsforsentences @leahneslen21 @whateveriwantworld @itsblehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @cassiebarnes  @that-one-jewish-elf @tardispandagirl  

@theawkwardone-0002 @djpaige13paige @thewinchestersbabe @majestic-squad  @fangirlextraordinaire713 @stevesmylove82 @mrporkstache @t0kistar @marvelousmimi  @shadyweeny @thequeenofgood @calursocute@casey-anne-j @ohmoveoveralohomora @grass-is-not-green @hiphoppery@imnotinsanehunny

@myonlyloveisblade @shamvictoria11 @castiels-fave @zootycoon1o1 @fangirl1029 @itsilvermorny @angel34jolly-blog   @hellomissmabel @castellandiangelo @dividedwecantfall @heyitsthatlouisdork @buckys-shield @heaven-bound-angel @thyotakukimkim @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @callalilyiskewl @karipaleta @hollycornish @mrhowardstark @mcuimxgine @ria132love @panickedpandaposts (I deleted the tags that wouldn’t work)

[treshorneboys]

I know why the caged bird sings

Read it on AO3

Chapter 3/? - 1 / 2

Almost a decade of experience had trained Neil to be instantly awake and alert as soon as he woke up, and because he was such a light sleeper the slightest hint of daylight would wake him. The first sliver of sunlight peeked through the living room windows at around 6 in the morning, and as soon as Neil was up he initiated his plan; he had a limited amount of time to do what he needed to do. From the small amount of Nicky’s ramblings that Neil listened to, he knew that usually everyone except Kevin was up before 9:30, but the fact he didn’t know exactly when set Neil’s teeth on edge. Nevertheless, waiting a few days to memorise everyone’s sleeping patterns and leaving his things vulnerable had a slightly higher risk than leaving his duffle alone for a few hours. Neil would take his duffle along with him but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to juggle all the things he had to buy along with it, even if the store as only 10 minutes away by foot.

Neil should be thankful for that, at least- if there was only one constant in his life it was a 24hr Walmart.

After searching for the bathroom as quietly as possible so that he could brush his teeth and change his clothes, Neil took a wad of cash out of his duffle and shoved the duffle under the couch; it was the only place he could think to store it where someone wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it. Making sure the money as secure in his pocket and pausing once to make sure he didn’t hear anyone starting to wake up, Neil left; ensuring that the front door was unlocked so that he could get back in when he was finished.

Running was an activity Neil did often; it kept his body fit and helped increase his lung capacity and strength. He wouldn’t necessarily say that he liked running, it was more of a habit he formed over the years that stuck and had become second nature to him. When he felt the need to run, it was like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch- a borderline addiction.

At the store, he gathered the things he needed as quickly as possible- hair dye, toiletries, an extra pillow and blanket as the ones Neil slept with last night were threadbare, and he might as well make the most of comfort while he could. He then made his way to the hardware section, where there was a limited choice of fireproof safes, none of them big enough to hold his entire duffle. However, they were big enough to hide the one thing that he needed to hide, so he lugged one to the checkout with all his other items, and awkwardly walked back to the house.

He made good time, slipping through the front door as silently as possible before pausing and straining his ears for any sign of movement. Satisfied with the following silence, Neil breathed a little easier, and moved to the living room to deposit his things on the couch before pulling his duffel bag out from underneath it.

Neil’s breath stopped when he opened his duffel and examined the contents. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be, folded and arranged so that it fit perfectly into the bag, however on closer examination the contents weren’t exactly how Neil had left them. He had inherited his Mother’s paranoia, so whenever he repacked his things he made sure to carefully fold each of his shirt tags in half; at that moment, they were perfectly straight, pressed flat by a meticulous hand.

He began digging through the insides of his bag, throwing his clothing to the side, hands impatient in their quest to get to the bottom, to the most important item in his possession- his binder. It was unassuming, a previously sleek black, the finish having been worn away a long time ago by nervous hands. Inside the binder looked like a stalker’s journal- photos, newspaper clippings, anything he could find that touched the subject of Kevin Day’s and Riko Moriyama’s lives and careers. But these pages were just a cover-up for the real reason Neil kept this binder. He opened up the pockets that the sheets made, finding the legacy of his Mother; fat stacks of hundred-dollar bills, a coded list of emergency contacts including his Uncle Stuart’s number, and a forged optometrist’s note along with a box of brown contacts. He counted through the money carefully, finding that it was the same amount as the last time he checked- just about a quarter of a million dollars. With all his security checks done, Neil stowed his binder in his new safe, stowed his things back in his duffel, and tried to fight against the red-hot anger that struggled to overtake him.

The fight was futile, after all he was his father’s son.

Underneath the sole of his shoe Neil had hidden his lockpicks, which he pulled out in a furious daze. If he was telling the truth, Neil wasn’t just furious at the person who had gone through his bag (he knew it was Andrew, he had always known to trust his instincts. Also, Neil wasn’t dumb), he was furious at himself for making so many mistakes in only two days; his Mother would have beaten him black and blue if she were here. Neil shook the thought out of his mind and marched up the stairs, knocking loudly and vigorously on the first door he came across, which was soon opened by a sleep-rumpled Nicky.

“Which room is Andrew’s?” Neil all but hissed.

“To the right,” Nicky yawned, scratching at his stomach, “Why? What ti-”

Before Nicky could finish, Neil had already made his way over to the door, crouched down, and started efficiently picking the lock. The lock was standard, no match for Neil, he had picked more difficult locks in the past. Nicky still stood in his doorway, watching Neil with his mouth half-open, looking as if the current circumstances hadn’t quite reached his brain yet.

Neil heard the lock click which finally prompted Nicky’s mouth to snap shut and then open again, presumably in preparation of forming a sentence, but Neil had already stepped inside the room to find Andrew sitting on a desk, smoking out of the window.

“Neil,” he said, “what a surprise.”

Neil slammed the door shut in Nicky’s face and stepped forward once more. He briefly thought of the phrase ‘stepping into the lion’s den’, and thought it an apt description of the current circumstances he was facing. Even so, he was angry; and when Neil got angry he got reckless.

“Stay out of my things,” he growled, “or I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

“Will you now?” Andrew raised his eyebrow, “and how would you do that?” he tapped the end of his cigarette consideringly, “Well, you could be quite creative- anything’s possible with the amount of money you carry.”

“Fuck off, you had no right.”

“Call it intuition, runaway.”

Neil barely suppressed a flinch, by the way his eyebrows slightly raised Andrew noticed.

“Now I have an idea of how to deal with you, and an even more complex conundrum to solve. Everybody wins!”

The fake-cheer in Andrew’s voice as disconcerting against his normal apathetic tone. When he continued the inflection was gone, as though it never happened.

“Do you want to hear a story, Neil? Though if my hypothesis is correct, you may already know it.”

“I don’t want to hear a single word of shit that spews from your obnoxious mouth.”

“Are you sure? As it involves both Kevin Day and Riko Moriyama; two people you apparently have a raging hard-on for, if that binder is anything to go by.”

Neil didn’t want to affirm Andrew’s statement by staying silent, but Andrew continued before he had the chance to reply.

“You see,” he said, “once upon a time, Riko and Kevin were a duo, thick as thieves, number one and number two. Number one being Riko, as you probably already know; Kevin being shunted to second best. But you see, Kevin, being the golden child that he is was just too good for that, and started outgrowing the number 2 on his cheekbone. Riko very much didn’t like it. Riko is a bit of a brat with quite a bit of power, and he has people who are loyal to him- or at least to his fame. So he has a tantrum, eliminates the threat,” Andrew stretched out his hand, spread wide open so that it covered Neil’s face, slowly dawning with realisation. He clenched his fingers shut a few times before continuing.

“So Kevin’s hand is broken in a ‘skiing accident’ according to Riko’s PR team, and Kevin is left to pick up the pieces,” Andrew then lowers his arm slowly, and looks at Neil, his gaze piercing, “and as soon as Kevin starts to get back on track, you show up- a boy made of secrets and lies with an insofar unexplainable tie to Kevin and Riko. You get where I’m going with this?”

“You think I’m trying to… infiltrate? For Riko? You must be as dense as you are insane.”

“Then prove that you aren’t, because you’re sure as hell not convincing me right now. Give me something real in your counterfeit.”

Neil didn’t get the chance to answer, as Kevin chose that moment to burst through the door, Nicky following on his heels, a hurricane just strong enough to break the tension.

“What the fuck is going on? Nicky wakes me up at 7:30 in the fucking morning babbling about fucking lock picking? Explain yourselves, especially you,” he glowered at Neil.

Neil’s blood boiled, he could only put up with so much shit and Kevin talking to him like he was an insect was just the icing on the cake. Aaron had also woken up from the noise and went to stand next to Nicky, scowling at anything and everyone.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Aaron said in German, eyes flickering over to Neil, and it was the cherry on top. But two could play at the different languages game, so Neil switched to French; he knew that Kevin had spent a few years there in his youth.

“Put a fucking leash on your mutt or I will. I’ve only been here one night and he’s already trying my patience. I will not tolerate him invading my privacy again, tell me you understand.”

There was a pause, silence descending over the room as Kevin visibly processed the abrupt change in language through his mind. Andrew had stubbed his cigarette out on the windowsill, looking as if he expected a translation and knowing he wasn’t going to get one.

“Looks like this puzzle is going to be even bigger than I first thought,” he mused, and as subsequently ignored.

“I understand,” Kevin said, “but I don’t care. You agreed to this, so you can’t back out now. Andrew takes his promises very seriously.”

“I did not agree to this,” Neil spat, “I agreed to humouring your twisted fantasy, but you can’t claw your way back to the top with only one hand, cripple.”

Kevin’s face twisted in fury, but before he could advance on Neil Andrew was suddenly there.

“Now now Kevin,” he said, his indifferent tone only ratcheting up the pressure in the room, “don’t do anything you might regret, remember your master plan? It won’t work if you strangle his vocal chords shut.”

Miraculously, Kevin did back down, which gave Neil an opening to escape before things got worse. He pushed past Aaron and Nicky who were still in the doorway, and started to make his way downstairs.

“Remember, practice at half 12,” Andrew called after him.

Neil didn’t reply, and even though he’d just got back from a jog he almost blew his legs out on his run.

[animenicolesmith]

choke

Have you ever been sitting in your living room trying to focus a mundane task when a freight train crashed through your brain at breakneck speed? and suddenly you're on that train and your speaking to a man but you’re using an australian accent and making jokes about being british and you do not know this man at all but you’re glad he’s there in that dining car with you because you know there are dangerous people on this train so you're suspicious of him but not enough to try your luck with another shadow and he's started using an accent too now and it turns out he doesn't even speak english and suddenly you’re crying and your mind won't stop moving and you don't what is going on or why all of your feelings suddenly chose to express themselves while you were searching through coat pockets in your closet and I can tell that I'm going to cry for about 10 minutes already and that my throat will feel raw and my chest will hurt and I will sit down at my desk and begin writing without stopping to consider the consequences. You are that train. It's been months since I thought about what happened between us, soon it'll have been years and then decades. I can't wait for that. I can't wait for it to have been 50 years since I last spoke to you in the woods and I can't wait to feel the way I feel right now again. The full strength of all the relief I've felt these past few months has been slowly pushing that bullet you put inside me up through my esophagus and I can feel it in the back of my throat ready to launch. I open my mouth and it goes.  I feel explosive.  I feel like I've just jumped into a cool pool so saline my skeleton suspends itself. I want to drown surrounded by goldfish, purple light and a heartbeat.  I feel like the hermit crab I had when I was 7 after she survived switching shells again and she finally had the room she needed to grow. Rosie always chose pink shells I think she was admirably comfortable in her femininity for one so hard to the touch. discomfort is finally giving me comfort. It took so long to shed your skin that I was beginning to worry I would be pulling pieces of you off of me for the rest of my life.  I dreamt about you the other night. We were locked in a meat locker with two doors at either end and all of our family and friends were gathered, surrounding the outside, having a party. Each time we would unlock a door with the single key we shared, someone outside would latch it back up. Not in a threatening way, they were just being helpful, the central cellar was kept locked, everyone knew that. It was pitch black. We started off friendly but with an edge. we dropped the key on purpose so the other would have to search the dirty floor on hand and knee. It was torture lite. We made small talk out of the sides of our mouths about our separate lives. You illuminated my face with a screen and showed me the things you were calling me from far away. Sudden exhaustion hit me as it often does when it comes to the topic of your words. I shut my eyes and in the corner of the room a woman and her daughter appeared, both made from clay. The mother carried a handful of soil and whenever her daughter spoke to her she began trying to sculpt herself teeth. She could not speak. She came close to me and pressed the tip of her tongue against my face. It was human. She probed at the spot where your thumb used to dig into my cheek when you would pull my head back and force me to look into your eyes. I pushed it back inside her mouth. The girl began to speak with a voice full of an anger I wanted to understand but when I took a step forward she grabbed my throat. You leaned against a long metal shelf and scrolled through your phone. The mother prostrated herself and turned her doll’s eyes toward her child of rage. She let me go. They handed me a block of white clay and I made a set of teeth. I tried scoring Mother's soft gums but nothing would keep them in. she would fall to the ground, an inhuman motion simultaneously fast and slow, her clothing fluttering around her like moths’ wings, and search for the small ivory pieces on the dusty floor while her daughter spoke. Daughter talked about the stars in a way that scared me and made me dream of drowning. Our darkness seemed limitless, eternal, and I lost time. When you finally emerged from your end of the cage you were older than your father and carried a larger gun. We began arguing over nothing and the fire made our skin glow. I took our key and opened the door. A new family had moved in to the home around us while we were in the dark. Mother crept out into the light on all fours, limbs spread wide like a spider while Daughter charged ahead, through the screen door and into the night air. I turned away from you for a moment and you were gone. Your presence still hung in the air. I stood on the porch and watched a woman with dark hair pull boxes out of a station wagon. We were close, related, my mind called her Rose. The new house on the edge of the forest was a fresh start, it always is. Three kids climbed out of the backseat and I felt tension in the air. The environment suddenly picked up, like it had just finished loading. Mother and Daughter had faded into the shadows. The house was more like a farm than it seemed from the inside. A small garden was just off the side of the driveway and I saw pumpkin vines twisting throughout, unconstrained. I could hear music and see flashes of light down the path next to the house into the trees. A party. I watch two girls stumbled up the hill toward the porch before finding their way onto the path of discarded red cups and sprinting to be swallowed by the sound. The kids begin to complain about missing their soccer games and dance classes, Rose approaches the garden and Mother lunges toward her, bright pearls trail from her open mouth. You reappear on the edge of the darkness carrying a shotgun. I grab the children and run straight towards unknown danger. We were young once and we ran together like that too. We ran away from everything for as long as we could. shut our eyes and plugged our ears until we couldn’t see each other but we kept running. We hid where no one could reach us and named our children and believed things would okay if we kept just kept going and one day we would be married and be happier than anyone else and live in each other and bathe in golden light but we couldn’t see or hear one another so we were constantly reaching for nothing, swiping blindly, our bodies crashing, tripping and falling the whole way. Losing track of shadows and screaming for help that refused to hear your voice. We were finally reaching a destination and I couldn't find you I fumbled desperately grasping at straws and counting blades of grass and throwing myself on the fires you set and praying aloud that I would find you and everything would be okay again but I was alone  In the quiet i slashed my side hoping you might smell my blood and show me yours but you were already gone.  and you did not bleed. i howled and dragged my body behind me while crawling from your ghost.  You walked up behind me and shot me in the head.  I have finally felt the death I've been holding inside of me. Death came to me at 12:36 in the afternoon on an unseasonably warm day while I was organizing my shoes. He drove a baby blue hearse and strange lights followed it through the sky. He is a stranger who knows me well. He tells me the truth and just the right lies. I feel exhausted and euphoric when I think about him. He knocked on my door, pinned me down, and pulled a diamond out of my throat. I had forgotten you put it there. Shiny and smooth, he made it a ring. It had once been a shard of glass. I don’t choke for you anymore.