#i came to peace with my path now you got me off track

[disguisedmermaid]

I've never been this scared before…feelings I just can'ttt ignore…Don't know if I should fight or flyyy but I don't minddd

[merakiui]

RABU.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, brief nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied murder/death, implied cannibalism, pregnancy, obsession note - i chatted with @heyyy11 and we discussed noodle shop owner jade!! :D this fic is the result of our thoughts. additionally, it's inspired by maretu's "binomi" and lyrics featured are from mitski's "me and my husband."

i. i steal a few breaths from the world for a minute. and then i’ll be nothing forever. and all of my memories and all of the things i have seen will be gone. with my eyes, with my body, with me.

There’s a pot of perpetual stew sitting on the stove.

It fills the small shop with savory scents, enthralling all who catch its delicious aroma on the air. Your husband of twenty years tends to it every now and then, lifting the lid to stir through its contents with a large wooden spoon. Regulars stop by for a fix of his food and comment much the same thing each time: “That husband of yours sure loves his stew.”

“Oh, he can’t get enough,” you would always reply, giggling at their observations.

You would then scrawl their usual orders in your notepad and they’d give you a knowing look. Still so infatuated even though two decades have passed—aren’t you the sweetest? But you can’t help it. Your husband is everything: affectionate, attentive, a masterful chef…

His forever single twin brother often groused that Jade got all the good fortune. “Y’know, if you’re ever tired of Jade, I’m here for ya,” he’d say, leaning over the counter with a sleazy smirk. “Shrimpy’s free to visit whenever she wants. My arms are always open.”

And Jade would smile tightly at him, brush him away with his broom, all while saying, “I’m afraid the shop’s closed now. You’ll have to come back tomorrow, Floyd.”

He acts in jest. Mostly.

Shortly after your wedding, on your first night as newlyweds, the two of you made a compromise. Jade wanted a family; you weren’t ready to start one. And so, in order to work through this dispute, you came to an agreement: He would be in charge of the prep work for the noodle shop he intended to open—a metaphorical child more than anything. In return, you would take orders and chat with customers. A fair deal, one you thought was attractive in its own right. Jade, ever so patient and understanding, lounged beside you in bed, gesturing towards the ceiling as if attempting to spell out the vision before your very eyes. He spoke so eagerly of his dreams. It warmed your heart.

Naturally, just as passionately, you would support him in his every endeavor.

“What do you think of this name? Rabu Rabu Ramen.”

You rolled over on your side, snuggling closer. You couldn’t snuff the overwhelming elation and tenderness that wrapped itself around you whenever you looked at him. And he was all yours—your husband to love forever, to grow old with, to experience life’s highs and lows together. Your wedding night was just the beginning of what would surely be a riveting romance.

“It’s silly.”

“It’s lovey-dovey.”

“If you like it, I like it.”

“Truly?”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Absolutely.”

It wasn’t long before fantasy bled into reality. The both of you found a quaint spot in a quiet neighborhood. It was more hole-in-the-wall than you would’ve liked, but Jade didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes tourists stumbled in, commenting that they would’ve missed it had they not ventured down the narrow path. Jade liked that aspect. It was secretive, peaceful, off the beaten track…

By the end of your first year running the shop, plenty of praise had spread throughout the neighborhood. You learned the locals’ names and faces quickly, committing each to your memory as if there might be an exam later on. They thought you were the cutest, the way you’d take charge of the front while your husband worked diligently in the back. Grandmothers adored you, and they made sure to point out the obvious at every opportunity. 

“Omago-san, it’s too quiet in here! You’re still so young. Plenty of time for a family. Tell that husband of yours to get busy!”

You could only offer an awkward smile. “Maybe one day.”

When that ‘one day’ would be, you couldn’t say.

It’s become something of a widely-held belief that Jade can’t make a single bad dish. Everything on the menu is scrumptious. From the homemade noodles to the variety of broths to the additional ingredients, each prepared by Jade’s adroit hand, it’s a feast for the ravenous. 

Sometimes customers ask for recommendations, and if you aren’t careful you’ll end up fawning over every dish.

“It’s all so amazing, but I like my ramen with bone broth. My husband makes it better than I do.”

It was true. You couldn’t possibly replicate Jade’s skill in the kitchen. At the very least, when it comes to tea, you’re on an even playing field.

“Just what’s his secret anyway?”

To that question, you could only offer a shrug. “Maybe it’s love?”

Jade told you it was a family recipe—a cherished secret passed through the generations. You thought he’d confess at some point now that you’ve been part of the family for so long, but he’s yet to do so. It hurt at first. You’re married! Family! Jade is smooth about the entire thing, promising to tell you one day, easing all of your worries with sugared sentiments. You’re impatient and oh-so-curious, but you force yourself to wait for his sake.

It must be a special secret.

The pot on the stove is an heirloom. It’s old, yet reliable and sturdy. Jade’s mother gifted it to him in the wake of your engagement. Sometimes you think he treasures it more than anything. He’s always hovering near it, having forbidden you from lifting the lid, lest you unintentionally tamper with whatever it is he’s cooking. It smells hearty like meat stew most days, and according to Jade the process is long.

You linger near the stove. A tiny taste wouldn’t hurt, right? After all, Jade cooks things in excess to cure what appears to be an interminable hunger.

But then someone pokes their head inside the shop, calling out a greeting. You move to the front just as Jade returns from the storage room, carrying a crate of vegetables. That taste will have to wait.

Detective Azul Ashengrotto lowers onto a stool at the counter and heaves an exhausted sigh.

“If it isn’t Azul! What brings you here? Tired of the big city?”

Weary hues flick over your face. He manages a smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, (Name). You’re still as energetic as ever.”

“You know it. Every day’s sunny over here.” You rest your elbows on the counter and hum. “Although it’s been awfully slow today.”

“I envy you.” He lifts his hat off of his head to card a hand through tousled hair. Now that you’re looking at him, he seems to have lost some weight. His face is thinner. His eye sockets appear hollow, heavy with shadows. “They’re running me ragged over there. Too many cases. Not enough answers.”

“You ought to take better care of your health.”

“I am—will. I plan to as soon as I wrap up this current case.”

“What’s it about? If you can tell me, that is.”

“A young man went missing near the port. They think he might’ve fallen in and drowned. His wallet was brought up from the seabed, but they haven’t recovered his body yet.”

“How unfortunate… I’m sure his family’s distraught.”

Azul drags a hand down his face and sighs again. “A mess.”

“My, my. It’s been some time since I’ve heard that familiar sigh.”

Lowering his arm, Azul fixes him with a sardonic grin. “How kind of you to join us. I was starting to wonder where you were hiding.”

Jade hums and adjusts his bandana. “Forever confined to the kitchen. My wife is eating for two now.”

A minute ticks by before the realization flashes on Azul’s face. He looks between the both of you, stunned.

“Oh, you’ve—wow. I wasn’t expecting… Ahem. Congratulations.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s talking about his stomach. I’m not pregnant.”

Azul’s countenance shifts through a catalogue of emotions before landing on a scowl. “To think I actually believed you for a moment. I rescind my congratulations.”

“My poor hara, endlessly empty without your sweet sentiments to fill it.”

“And my hara is telling me that you’re going to starve our guest if you keep being silly.” Clicking your tongue at him, you turn your much softer stare on Azul. “The usual, right?”

“Oh, thank you, but I ate before I came. I only intended to stop in and say hello since I was in the area. I really should be leaving now that—”

“Nonsense! You’re already here and Jade has nothing better to do. You should go back on a full stomach.”

“Indeed. A delicious bowl of tonkotsu ramen has your name on it,” Jade adds from his place in the kitchen. “And I do so love busying these idle hands of mine. Should they remain idle, I fear the devil may just find work for them…”

“I really shouldn’t…”

“You look so withered, Zuzu. You’ll feel better after a hot meal. I promise!”

The platonic affection twined through the nickname catches him by surprise. Huffing, his cheeks colored pink, he stuffs his hat on his head to veil the darkening blush. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. “I’ll get started on tea.”

You weren’t going to give him much of a choice. Azul probably knows this by now, well-acquainted with your proclivity to play caretaker.

“This winter is particularly brutal,” he comments after you’ve fetched him a cup. It’s more of a change in subject than an observation. He shudders and burrows further into the warmth provided by his coat. “The worst time to die.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Winter is full of mistakes. Drunken mishaps at night, in which the victim slips on ice and falls into the sea… Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. I can’t begin to imagine how painful that must be—to not know where your loved one has disappeared to, only to find them just as the winter frost melts away to usher in spring.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” You set the kettle down, and Azul watches steamy tendrils curl up towards the ceiling. “Does it ever scare you—the things you find?”

“I’ve seen so much it’s difficult to know what real fear even is.”

“Ah.” You glance over your shoulder at Jade as he opens the lid on the pot of stew. Your eyes drift over towards Azul once more. “You work hard. You deserve a break after your next case.”

“I could sleep forever when that day comes.”

“Retirement isn’t too far, is it, Ojiisan?”

Azul chokes around his breath. “Do I really look so old? Oh, my heart… If these sleepless nights don’t kill me, that assumption certainly will.”

You giggle. “Sorry, sorry. I meant to say you look as spry as ever.”

“You’re too happy to hammer nails into my coffin.”

“I do it with love. It’s our secret ingredient, you know!”

“So I’ve heard.”

The rest of your conversation stalls out. You wipe the counter with a fresh rag in hopes of giving yourself something to do while Azul reads through the newspaper and sips at his tea. You watch him in your peripheral vision. Is he taking care of himself? It doesn’t look like it, but you’ve known Azul long enough to be familiar with his level of responsible efficiency. Maybe this particular case has him in the trenches.

Just how hard are they working him over there?

As his friend you worry. In fact, you worry yourself sick. Every time he visits he’s in poor shape. Though he masks it with confidence, you can see the toll life is taking on him.

“Have you ever wanted to get married, Azul?”

“If I find the right person, sure.”

“But?”

“But, seeing as that has yet to happen, I have no interest in pursuing something that might waste my time and money. Emotions are exhausting, even more so when invested in something like romance. It’s better to put them towards something that will yield solid results. Like work, for example.”

“That outlook is so frigid! Don’t you wanna fall in love?”

“Love isn’t going to crack these cases,” he grumbles at the paper.

Jade appears at the little window cut into the wall. “Someone sounds like a love killer.”

“I’m only being realistic.” Azul scoffs. “Besides, you have no right to speak as a married man.”

“Envy is a wicked vice. I’ll gladly help you overcome it.”

You take the bowl of tonkotsu ramen from Jade and set it in front of Azul. “Okay, enough of that. Let him enjoy his meal in peace.”

“But I haven’t yet had my fill of fun.”

You reach through the horizontal window to gently tug on Jade’s ear. He rumbles with laughter. “Don’t bully the guests.”

“Why, I would never, my dearest.”

Azul watches this back-and-forth with a forlorn longing in his pale blues. Wordlessly, he sinks his soup spoon into the broth and lifts the noodles between his chopsticks. He eats with such zest it makes you wonder if this is his first meal of the day. Sensing your stare, he attempts to pace himself.

You smile sadly. He looks like he needs this.

“As always, it’s delicious,” he says once he’s made a sizable dent in the portion.

Jade basks in the praise. “I’m pleased you enjoy it.”

“But… Well.” The ghost of a frown settles on his weathered features. “The broth tastes different. You must’ve used a new seasoning. Or perhaps this is an expensive cut of pork? Whatever it is, it’s different. Not bad, mind you. I’m sure if it were anyone else it would’ve been difficult to catch.”

“Is this the impressive power of Detective Ashengrotto’s taste buds at work?” you joke, to which Azul flashes you a proud grin that’s more teeth than lip.

“Well, I have been using ingredients with better qualities as of late… I’m not very fond of serving cheap products to honored guests.”

“Isn’t my Jade so considerate? He’s too cute.” You stand up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “He even grows some of the vegetables himself. Green onions and mushrooms and the like.”

“Ah, of course. How could I forget that dubious green thumb of yours?” Azul muses, recalling the time in which Jade served him a new dish in exchange for valid critique. He had conveniently neglected to inform Azul that it contained mushrooms, something he has eaten plenty of in the time that he’s known you and Jade. So many that all varieties have been spoiled for him. “In any case, what’s the secret ingredient? Imported pork? Some sort of flavor that’s seeped in when left to simmer? No, not that… It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t place it!”

Jade chuckles. “There is no secret. It’s just love.”

Azul pokes around the bowl with his chopsticks, his eyes narrowed with an intense scrutiny. “I can recognize every other flavor. The meat, the green onions, the egg, the noodles… And I can parse the broth well enough. There’s just something else—a hint of something I’ve never tasted before. This profile is missing from my gastronomic lexicon.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “Well, it’s the same broth, isn’t it?”

The both of you turn to Jade for his input. He nods. “My recipe and method haven’t changed.”

“So it’s still the same as before?” Azul’s nose wrinkles. “Strange. I was certain there was a taste of something more…”

Before he can dwell on it any longer, the radio at his hip crackles to life: “Sir, you’re needed at the port. We’ve got something you should see. Over.”

Azul detaches it from his belt and lifts it to his mouth. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t touch anything if you can help it. Out.” Releasing the button, he deflates briefly and then addresses you and Jade next. “It was wonderful seeing you again, but I’m afraid I must cut my visit short.”

“Then we won’t keep you.”

He moves to pull money from his wallet, but you stop him.

“On the house. You deserve it.”

Despite your generous offer, he still places the exact amount on the counter. “You won’t make profit if you’re giving food away for free.”

“Wha—but you’re a friend!”

“That makes it even worse. It’s not very fair to favor me to this extent.”

“Azuuul, don’t be so stubborn! You did this last time, too.”

“I surmise it will be much the same next time he graces us with his presence,” Jade says, eyeing you sympathetically.

“Ugh. Really… If you won’t let us treat you, at least promise you’ll take better care of yourself. No more skipping meals. Get a full eight hours. Prioritize yourself, too, okay?”

Azul starts for the door, so you miss the way he flusters up to his ears. They’re all very valid concerns, of course, but then he’s never been able to swallow the embarrassment that accompanies being unduly fussed over.

“I’ll do what I can,” he says instead and steps outside into the snowy afternoon.

You fold your arms over your chest and huff noisily. “What are we going to do with him? He’s in bad health and he still insists on being difficult. Must he faint before he realizes it?”

Jade emerges from the kitchen, sliding easily behind the counter where you stand. An amused glint shimmers in two-toned eyes. “I suppose we can only hope he’ll fix his bad habits sooner rather than later.”

“If only there were two of me… That way one could tend to the shop alongside you and the other could help him with his work.”

Jade embraces you firmly. With a giggle, you crane your neck to look at him.

“Two is much too troublesome.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have you all to myself.” His lips curve into a practiced pout. “What if (Name) Number Two finds Detective Ashengrotto more desirable than her own husband?”

You reach up to pinch his cheek in light scolding. “You know that would never happen.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I would never. If I did, that wouldn’t be the real me. I love you too much.” You twirl out of his arms to collect the dirty dishes. “Hey, since he’s no longer here, what was really in Azul’s ramen?”

“I haven’t the faintest inkling, my dear. I used the same ingredients I always do. Perhaps he was tasting something that wasn’t actually there?”

“Maybe… He looked pretty tired, Jade.” You peer at your reflection in the broth. “I wonder if he’ll be okay.”

“I’m sure he will.” Jade follows you into the tiny, compact kitchen. “You do know his penchant for smoking has worsened. I fear his sense of taste may be compromised from so many cigarettes. That, and age. Oh, but these are merely my own theories. He might have caught flavors of a love he’s never known before on those ruined taste buds of his.”

“Ah, right. Because everything you make is filled with love.”

“Not everything. There’s still something I’ve yet to fill with my love.”

He presses himself against you, his hands settling on your waist. You roll your eyes at his very obvious flirting.

“I’m assuming that something is actually a someone?”

“Indeed. And she’s standing right in front of me.”

His arms snake around your front so that you’re effectively trapped between him and the countertop. His hands close around your breasts to grope you through your shirt. You shiver against him when his fingers brush against the precise area of where your nipples are. It’s when he pinches both between his thumb and index that you finally shut the faucet off, surrendering to his touch instead of the dishes piled in the basin.

“At least close the front. What if someone walks in?”

“Unlikely,” he murmurs, his lips hot on your neck. His fingers slip under your shirt to undo the clasp of your bra. “It’s slow today. We can manage.”

You brace yourself at the sink and gasp when he grinds against your ass. “T-Ten minutes.”

“Only ten?”

“Would you prefer five? Your mouth is so smart today.”

“My love, I need only seconds to unravel you. You’re quite easy.”

You bark out a sharp laugh. ��I’m not the one with the hard-on, my darling.”

“You’re too alluring, even in uniform. So beautiful, always and forever, my sweet wife.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of dirty dish duty.”

“How cold… You rival the snow outside.”

You shift slightly to face him, offering him an impish grin. “I’d hate for my Jade to freeze. Let’s warm up together, all right?”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

And all the while, your voices filling the kitchen in unison, bodies pressed close, the pot continues to simmer on the stove.

ii. and i am the idiot with the painted face. in the corner, taking up space. but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved.

“Can I ask you something, Floyd?”

“What’s up?” he answers around a mouthful of udon. A few strands hang out from between his lips, and he slurps them up in a motion so fluid it leaves you impressed. As for the mess he makes… Not so much.

“What’s the secret thing that’s been passed through your family?”

Floyd blinks at you, lost. “The secret thing?”

“It’s some ingredient or flavor or…whatever that Jade says is a family secret. I have no idea what it is. He won’t tell me no matter how many times I ask.”

“Ohhh, you’re talkin’ about Mama’s pot, right? That thing’s been in our family forever. She gave it to Jade cuz I didn’t want it.” Floyd points with his chopsticks, playfully accusatory. “What? You into cookware now? I can getcha somethin’ if ya want.”

“What’s this about cookware?” Jade asks, poking his head inside. He looks warm and comfortable in his nagagi and haori, a pleasant sight for your eyes, but the broom clutched in his hands tells a threatening tale. 

Ignoring the fact that he so clearly eavesdropped, you wave him forwards so that you can straighten his scarf. Jade props the broom against the doorway before striding closer. He leans into your touch with a smug smile, which is shamelessly directed at his brother.

“Oh, you’re freezing! Let me fix you a cup of tea. You’ll catch your death if you spend any longer sweeping out there.”

“Thank you, my dear. I fear the chill is rather paralyzing…”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “He’s fine. Nothin’ he can’t handle.”

“I might just die.”

His dramatics don’t faze Floyd, but they do draw a chuckle from you. “We can’t have that.” You duck into the kitchen and return minutes later with a warm cup of chai. “Floyd was just telling me about your mother’s pot.”

“Was he now?”

“Only cuz Shrimpy asked.”

Jade blows at the steamy beverage to cool it before bringing it to his lips for a sampling. He hums his approval. “It’s quite special.”

Floyd slumps against the counter. “Whatever. It’s boring!”

“I suppose there isn’t much to discuss regarding an old pot.”

“Nothing we haven’t already mentioned.”

“Speaking of that… You thinkin’ about closin’ up the shop for the holidays? Pops’s been on my ass. He and Mama want you to visit.”

Jade gazes at you, but you’re already looking at him. “Should we?” you ask. “I’m not opposed. I just know you like running things here.”

“Not like you’re gonna get crazy business on Christmas.”

“No, but there are a fair amount of regulars who might stop by.”

“We should visit your parents, Jade. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, listen to Shrimpy. Mama’s been missin’ ya.” Floyd shovels more noodles in his mouth. “And afterwards we can all do somethin’ fun on New Year’s Eve.”

“That sounds great! Let’s do it!”

“S’no fun spendin’ the holidays workin’ yourself into the ground.”

“Exactly. Your brother makes a good point. What do you say, Jade? We’ll make the trip to see your parents and then come back in time for New Year’s Eve.”

Jade smiles, approving of the idea. “In that case, I should call Mother so she knows when to expect us.” Taking a final sip from his tea, he rises from his seat and disappears into the kitchen. Seconds later, you hear soft footfalls on the floor above.

“You really don’t know?”

Floyd shrugs. “No idea. The only thing that kinda fits the whole secret ingredient vibe is Mama’s pot. That’s been passed through the family. Other than that? I’ve got nothing.”

“Well… Yeah, that’s true. Maybe it really is nothing.”

Floyd laughs. “This sure means a lot to ya.”

“Of course it does! We’ve been married for two decades and I still don’t know what this ‘family secret’ is. Decades, Floyd! Surely he would’ve told me by now.”

“Is it really that important?”

“It is to me.” You gaze sidelong at the broom and inhale a steadying breath. “It feels like I’m not a part of the family if he won’t tell me something as simple as this. You’d think twenty years qualifies you as—”

“Hey, you’re always gonna be family to me.” Floyd’s hand reaches to cover yours. He hesitates and instead grabs another napkin. “Jade’s just bein’ a hard-ass. Gets it from our old man.”

“Do you think this ‘family secret’ is real?”

“Who knows? I’m sure he’ll fess up once he gets tired of playing this game.”

“Yeah, that sounds like my Jade. He’s really too much sometimes.” You shake your head and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, though. That part about me being family. It… It means a lot.”

“It’s the truth.” Floyd sets his chopsticks and chirirenge down, lifting the bowl to drink what’s left of the broth. He whistles, supremely satisfied, and slouches on the stool. “You ever need anything—doesn’t matter what it is or how much trouble you think it might be—just gimme a call. I’ll be there to help.”

“Thanks. A-Again. Truly.”

Floyd flashes you a toothy smile. “Don’t mention it.”

You collect his bowl, intending to bring it to the sink, but Floyd’s next words stop you in your tracks.

“Hey, Jade’s got that pot on, yeah?”

“The pot? Oh, yes, the pot! What about it?”

“Has it been stirred lately? You gotta do that once in a while, right?”

Your nerves, which had previously been pulled taut, smooth out. He’s referring to cooking. Nothing else. Just cooking.

“I’ll do that. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Mhm! Smells yummy, by the way.”

“Doesn’t it? Jade’s food is amazing.”

“Mine’s pretty killer, too. You gotta come over and try some.”

“If you’re cooking for me, you’ll have to cook for Jade as well.” You giggle to yourself as you cross into the kitchen, only for the laughter to stick in your throat.

Jade stands at the stove. He lowers the lid onto the pot and sets the wooden spoon aside. He was so quiet you hardly noticed him. How long has he been there? When did he return from upstairs?

“Oh, good timing! Floyd and I were just saying the pot needed to be stirred.”

Jade smiles and takes Floyd’s empty bowl from you. “Did we all have a collective thought just now?”

“Ooh, like telepathy?”

“Wouldn’t that be shocking? Three-way telepathy.”

You watch Jade set the bowl beside the others in need of washing. “That would be so noisy! Three times as many thoughts… I wouldn’t be able to hear myself think.”

“It’d be like watchin’ a show about the two of you,” Floyd pipes up from the front.

“Thankfully, that will never happen.” Jade guides you back out. You peer over your shoulder at the pot. “What a relief our minds aren’t connected. I don’t think I’d enjoy a stray listening in on our private affairs.”

You slap his arm gently. “Floyd’s not a stray!”

“Might as well be since it feels like he’s kickin’ me to the curb. So mean.”

“Not at all. I’m just making a distinction clear.” Jade’s smile is razored, his words catty. “You’re always welcome to visit so long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hands off the Shrimpy. I gotcha.” Floyd pops up from his seat and stretches. It seems as if all of Jade’s remarks, each born from petty possessiveness, roll off his shoulders. “I’m not gonna steal her from you if that’s what’s got you so worked up.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried.”

Floyd’s once easygoing expression sours. “You’re beggin’ for cement shoes, ain’tcha?”

Jade feigns offense, placing his hands over your ears even though it’s a pointless gesture. “For my own blood to threaten me in front of my sweet pearl… It brings tears to my eyes.”

“All right, all right! I’m goin.’ Geez.” Floyd struts out the door, not wanting to be manually shooed out by Jade and his beloved broom. “And don’t forget about New Year’s Eve!”

You wave farewell until he’s vanished out of sight. Only then do you turn to address your husband. “You ought to be nicer to him. He’s your brother.”

“I was. Very nice, in fact.”

“Really? How?”

“I didn’t charge him for the meal.”

iii. me and my husband, we’re doing better. it’s always been just him and me together. so i bet all i have on that furrowed brow. and at least in this lifetime we’re sticking together. me and my husband, we’re sticking together.

Everyone thought the odds were significantly slimmer than that of younger women—impossible by your standards—but somehow you’re pregnant at forty-four. You suspected it when you missed your period and then, just days prior, woke up with a terrible bout of morning sickness.

Standing in the bathroom, staring at the positive test like it’s a relic from Atlantis, you pinch yourself. Hard. It stings, and with this your disbelief mellows into something astonished.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

And this time you’re ready for a family. You’re ready to raise a child. Somewhat. Amidst every positive emotion there's anxiety and fear, and they reign so tyrannical that you almost forget you’re meant to be excited. Tamping down insecurity, you turn the test over in your hands.

I’ve got to tell Jade.

But before that you think back on the timeline in an effort to pinpoint the fateful day. After mapping it out for a brief while, you arrive at what’s possibly the least romantic way to conceive a child. Going at it raw and reckless in the kitchen, bent over a sink filled with dirty dishes and pressed against the wall… At least it was in a place both of you treasure.

Not the worst place, you think. I guess it doesn’t have to be a typical rose-petals-on-the-floor situation.

You’re practically vibrating out of your skin when you tiptoe out of the bathroom. Jade’s already downstairs. You can hear him humming as he works to open the shop. Hastily, you change into your work clothes and stuff the test in your pocket.

Jade’s notorious for his surprises, but it’s never been easy to return the favor. You mull over this facet of his character as you skip down the stairs. How can you shock him with this good news when he makes it so difficult? It’s as if he’s always two steps ahead, expecting the unexpected before it can even happen.

Jade brightens when you walk into the kitchen. He meets you halfway, lifting your hand to his lips. “Good morning. How did you sleep, my pearl?”

You squeeze his hand. “Like the dead.”

He chuckles. “I’m pleased it was so restful.”

You glance at the pot then and an idea sprouts. “Is there anything else that needs to get done? Is the front opened?”

“Just about. I need to prep a few more things here and then—”

“I can do it! It’s just stocking up on what’s low, right? That’s not very hard.”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” You claim the spot he had once been standing in. He was in the process of filling a container with chopped green onions before you came down. “Go on and open the front. I’ve got things handled here.”

“I do so adore you.”

“I adore you more.”

“I adore you most.” He beams and stalks off through the doorway. 

Now left to your own devices, you move to the sink and turn on the water to wash your hands. If all goes according to plan, you’ll open the lid, pretend something’s wrong with its contents, and when Jade comes over to investigate you’ll act as if you’ve pulled the positive test from the pot. It’s a harmless surprise. You’re sure he won’t be expecting it, especially since he’s the one who does all of the cooking.

After confirming Jade’s still busy with the front, you creep over to the stove. That infamous pot awaits. You slide your hand into an oven mitt and grab hold of the lid, lifting it slowly. You’re immediately hit with the delicious scent of bone broth, so fragrant it almost has you salivating.

Focus! I can eat after the big reveal.

You open your mouth to call Jade over and then pause.

Has he stirred it yet? It looks a little… No, it’s definitely murky. Is bone broth supposed to be this dark? Maybe I just need to stir it.

You lower the wooden spoon into the broth and, scraping along the sides and bottom, mix expertly. The bones knock into each other from the disturbance, and you inhale deeply. It reminds you of the tonkotsu ramen Azul fancies so much. You could go for a bowl right now.

You’re about to take the spoon out and cover the pot when something floats to the surface. Without meaning to, you recall Azul’s words from last month: Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. Curiously, you scoop the object up onto the spoon. Broth spills over into the pot and then you see it.

A finger.

A human finger.

What the fuck is a finger doing in Jade’s pot?

The nail has been plucked off and the skin is sagging away, turned to pliable mush from sitting in the pot for so long, but it is undoubtedly a finger.

A very real, very human finger.

Bile slithers up your throat with thick, acidic fingers.

Fingers.

There’s another one and then another. Three fingers. You poke around in the broth, dreading what else you might see. You don’t want to find a full set of ten. Anything but that. You count five and that’s all you can stomach before you’re shakily covering the pot with the lid. You set the spoon and oven mitt down next, your mind reeling.

You want to vomit.

You’re about to vomit.

You’re going to—

“(Name)?”

You whirl to look at him. Your husband. He stands in the doorway, a dark look on his face. You can’t describe the emotion, or lack thereof. It’s more of a shadow. An oppressive shadow. An intimidating shadow. A shadow that seems to say: You’ve seen too much.

“J-Jade!” How long has he been standing there? How much does he know? “Sorry. I… I felt sick just now. I think I should…rest a bit more.”

The gloom fades away into perfect placidity. “My, my. That’s not good.” He takes a step towards you and pauses when you jerk away. “Is everything all right?”

“Y-Yes, of course! I’m just…not feeling it today…or something.”

“I suppose it can’t be helped.” His eyes slide towards the stovetop. “I do so dislike getting into disagreements with you. So to avoid that I’ll ask once and only once. What did you see in the pot?”

Your spine stiffens, straight and still as a board, and you hang your head guiltily. “I… I’m sorry. I saw… W-Well, I don’t want to believe it. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding or a mistake of some kind. It’s just that—um… I… I saw…”

Fingers. Human fingers!

“I saw what I think is y-your secret ingredient. The thing—” your voice cracks, and you swallow thickly to push rising bile back— “Azul tasted that day…” “And that secret ingredient is…”

Tears brim and spill over in silent, horror-struck waterfalls. You risk a glance at your husband, and a wobbly smile pulls your lips apart.

“Love.”

[luimagines]

Absolute crackfic, please. Legend’s s/o meets the tree that he got engaged to that one time.

- glitter ✨

Oh my goodness- yes. Why not? XD

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

You walked through the forest with your boyfriend, hand in hand, on a peaceful and quiet afternoon. You weren't needed anywhere any time soon and the day was too pleasant to not enjoy it while you could.

No words were exchanged between the two of you.

It was a simple walk for the sake of just enjoying the company and enjoying the weather.

"Hey! Honey! I see you!"

Link freezes in his tracks you can see the blood drain from his face. He gets as white as sheet. You'd think he'd saw a ghost.

"Oh no."

"What is it?" You ask innocently. You start to look around, looking for the owner of the voice that no doubt called out to you. At you think they were calling out to you. You don't see any other people nearby. "Do you know that voice, Link?"

"Yes, keep walking." He tries to pull you along before you can find out who's talking.

"My love! Don't leave me! You never came back! Is this how you treat your fiancé?"

Now you dig your heels in. "Excuse me?"

Link- if possible- pales even harder and flinches. "It's not what you think."

"So you know this person?" You struggle to keep your tone even. "So what is it exactly?"

"Link!! My love! Come to me!"

You grit your teeth and turn on your heel, ready to leave to either fight someone or just go home.

"Wait!" Link grabs you and groans loudly. "I swear I can explain, just promise not to laugh. I thought I escaped this."

"I'm sorry?" You bite your tongue and raise a cool eyebrow.

He sighs and hang his head. "This way."

He leads you through the forest, off of the path and through the forest. You notice that seems to know the way very well. But you still don't see the one who's been calling out to you. Strange.

"Link! My love! Finally."

"Oh my-"

A tree. It's a tree.

"Link! The love of my life!" The tree cries. "I missed you so much! We have to plan the wedding and invite guests there's so much to do!"

Slowly, you turn your head to Link.

He looks like he would much rather be anywhere other than here. He tries to sneak a glance at you, notices you looking at him and flinches. 'I'm sorry', he mouths.

"You even brought a friend!" The tree cries. "How wonderful! I'm so happy to meet you! I am Link's fiancé."

You clear you throat, feeling you whole tirade be thrown out the window. At first you thought it was something serious that was about to ruin your relationship, but now you see why Link was so adamant on avoiding this.

"I...see." You find yourself saying. "I wasn't aware he had a fiancé."

"No?!" The tree is outraged. Then it huffs. "I can't believe it! After so many years, I would have thought he would have treated me kinder."

You nod solemnly. "Truly a travesty."

Link clenches his jaw and wills the fluster off of his face. "I'm sorry. It... wasn't my intention to stay away for so long."

"You better be sorry-!"

"Link." You cough and you try to send him the most bizarre look on your face because what on earth is this?

He bite his lip and shrugs unhelpfully. "....I was 12?"

"Twelve!?"

"Twelve? Yes! Twelve! We should have twelve saplings! What a lovely idea, Lovely Link!"

You snort and cover your mouth with your hand as quickly as you can. Link resigns to covering his entire face.

You're going to never let this go.

[unmaskthewriter]

The Night We Met {Arthur Morgan x F!Reader}

Summary: After Arthur’s passing, you visit his grave to find closure but instead, you find quite the opposite. Inspired by The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, published and/or translated on any platform including Tumblr.

A/N: Apologies for the absence, dearest readers! I’ve had a bit of a mental block, so I’ve put out this small piece of writing to perhaps get back on track! Mainly Arthur x Reader but small Charles x Reader if you squint really hard.

Warnings: Mentions of Canon Character Death

Word Count: 660ish

A cool, spring breeze traveled through the mountains of Ambarino. Patches of bright, dewy grass covered the ground on either side of the dirt path. Luckily, it was not nearly as cold as last year.

“Almost there, girl.” You gently patted your horse, Gypsy, soothing her as she made the climb upward towards a clearing. Carefully dismounting your horse, you hitched her to a nearby tree and slowly made your way closer to the other side of the clearing towards the edge of the cliff. Your eyes came upon what you were searching for: a wooden grave adorned with a variety of fresh flowers.

It almost felt as if your feet were being weighed down, dragging along slowly. You tried to ignore that weak in the knees feeling as you approached. Removing your leather riding gloves, you knelt alongside the freshly dug dirt.

‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness’

“… for they shall be filled,” You speak softly to yourself, trying not to give into the sadness, “you’re supposed to be here with me.” Defeated, you give into the onslaught of hot tears that escape the corners of your eyes, trailing down your cheeks and dripping off your chin. You feel your heart ache for what was, and what could have been. A moment of silence passes.

“When we met, I had beat you at a game of poker.” You sniffled and pulled something from the pocket of your goat jacket, carefully placing it amongst the flowers.

A single poker chip.

“Some say it’s luck, some say it’s skill. Whatever it was, it led me to you. I’ll never regret the years we had together, even if we spent them as outlaws.” You hiccuped, quickly wiping your tears away as you felt anger take over. Clutching the newly grown grass beneath you, you look to his grave. Feeling suffocated from the sadness, you knew you had to leave.

“I won’t let Dutch and Micah get away with this… I promise. I love you, Arthur. I always will.” You swiftly speak, standing quickly and turning back to return to Gypsy.

As you did so, you spotted a wild buck standing in the clearing. The animal makes eye contact with you, as if connecting with you, before slowly sauntering off.

I had all and then most of you

some and now none of you

take me back to the night we met

Returning to camp at Moonstone Pond in a daze, you see someone sitting near the fire. Approaching slowly from behind with a hand hovering over your holstered revolver, you try to get a closer look.

It is Arthur, holding the daughter you share together in his arms, singing softly to her. Such a tiny thing in his arms with dark hair and bright eyes to resemble his.

“I ain’t got no father… I ain’t got no father… I ain’t got no father… to buy the clothes I wear.”

“A-Arthur?” Your voice breaks as you take in the sight. He looked just as he did before he was sick. His soft blue eyes gazed at his daughter adoringly while his thin, chapped lips formed into a rare smile. His stubble was just barely coming in on his cheeks, and his hair was long, but tidy. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, tell him how hard things have been without him but as quickly as he appeared, he is gone, and you are alone again. Charles, who despite his own problems and has been your rock since the gang had fallen apart, is at your side with your daughter in his arms as you fall to your knees, sobbing. You tried to find peace in knowing Arthur had done better than most in his final days and moments, but that was of no consolation to you as your grief had come undone.

“Shhh… it’s alright. I’m here.” He sits alongside you, holding you close with one arm while rocking your daughter to sleep with the other.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do

haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

[fandomzwriterk]

This my first time ever requesting anything on this site, so please bear with me 💀 I have a request for any of the Mortal Kombat 1 characters (preferably Lin Kuei and/or earthrealmers) with a special other that ats like either Deadpool or Wolverine? I've been hyperfixated on both, and would interested to see how you portray it!! Thanks 💚💚 (also, love your content btw.)

A/N: yes absolutely yes! I act like Deadpool a lot so this is gonna be fun for me😂😂 Also reader with be based off of both Wolverine and Deadpool🤣🤣😂😂 Brought to you by: Ashes by Nathan Sharp

Bi Han

-> When he first met you, which was a mission to bring you back alive, your first words to him were “come at me daddy” as you pulled out a pistol

-> Confused the man right then and there, making him freeze

-> Answered back with “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

-> As you pulled the trigger, Bi Han straight up froze it with a wall of ice

-> Of course, after you shot, you came running up with your claws unsheathed, stabbing right through the ice almost hitting him

-> “There’s a lot of things wrong with me! Where should I begin? I got tortured… A LOT. Oh I was basically a lab rat for a guy, may he rest in peace, that shot me up full of drugs to stop my cancer and now I can self heal which means I can’t die which means I’m forced to live the rest of my life knowing someone took my humanity away.”

-> Bi Han is just fighting you with his mouth wide open

-> He has no idea what to even say to you

-> “Come on bub, I’m not gonna waste my time fighting you. After all I just told you I can’t die.”

-> “Can you… suffer from other things?”

-> You answered with “yes but I grow anything back that gets cut off”

-> You pulled out a katana as he came to strike down on you with an ice blade

-> There is a lot of back forth… mostly you just trauma dumping on him

-> Bi Han is just thinking to himself “I swear to the Elder gods if she doesn’t shut up I’m gonna kill her- Crap.”

-> The fight ends with him plunging an ice blade through your chest and up making you fall to your knees, pinning you there

-> “Oh I’m not new to this. I like where this is going”

-> Bi Han just crossed his arms in front of him, standing proud as a fiery portal opened up

-> “Oh great thanks dude now I’m apparently going to hell.”

-> You tried to cut the ice with adamantium claws, still stuck in your chest considering how fucking cold it was

Kuai Liang

-> Met you on accident… really! On accident!

-> He had been walking through town when he saw you flip a 6 foot dude onto his back while the rest of the bar was going wild

-> He saw your steel like claws, cutting through everything in its path

-> He HAD to meet you

-> But you were gone as soon as he went to track you

-> “Not my first time being stalked but I will say, you my friend are terrible at it.” You answered sitting on the balcony above his head jumping for him

-> He pulled out his weapon, lighting it on fire as he swung towards you, pulling onto the rope that was holding it

-> You backflipped over his head, making his back get turned to you

-> “Ooh… kinky. Not my first rodeo with that though.”

-> Just stopped in his tracks as he turned to fight you, confusing the hell outta him

-> “I You are very strange”

-> “Eh. I’ve heard that one a few times.”

-> “From who may I ask?”

-> You showed him your bloody claws that had been retracted back into your skin previously

-> You lunged at him, making him roll to the side

-> “Oh come on I hate it when the fun is-“

-> He had cut you, seeing your blood light aflame as it spew from your arm

-> But instantly, it healed, sending Kuai into a state of worry

-> You still felt the skin slowly close

-> You did have no intention to fight or kill him

-> You were mad your sleeve had been cut

-> “Oh come on this was my favorite one!”

-> Your mood changed instantly, seeming to forget he was there as you pulled off the sleeve

-> “I uh… I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to attack you. I wanted to-“

-> “No need to apologize, I just fight everyone I come across. After all I don’t know if you were trying to kill me there. Speaking of which how in gods name did you light that on fire? I’ve been trying for years and never understood.”

-> He put away his weapons upon hearing you start to ramble about random things

-> That fight ended but he asked you to accompany him to his home base

-> And of course… you agreed. Why not have fun all the time since you can live forever?

Tomas Vrbada

-> Weirdest place he met you?

-> At Johnnys house where you had been training him in weapon combat

-> Tomas had an immediate liking to you

-> You were even stronger than Raiden, who had been there with Kung Lao

-> He was entranced by your adamantium claws, your precise aim when it came to guns, and your incredible healing

-> Not gonna lie, when he first trained with you, he was so scared when he cut you deep on your arm

-> You being chill about it and going on about your day like it was nothing freaked him out

-> “You can heal yourself?”

-> “Umm… yeah? Thought Mr Playboy Billionaire would’ve told you that.”

-> “Johnny is-“

-> “Unreliable? Difficult? Stubborn? Ignoring all my advice? Yep that’s the Johnny Cage I’ve always known.”

-> You walked off with no worry, just cleaning your katanas with a soft cloth as you went to sit down next to a small pool of water

-> It took him some time, but Tomas eventually found out who you were

-> Surprise surprise, Tomas found out you’re the legend herself, the great and mighty Wolverine

-> Johnny told him that they wouldn’t allow a female to play a dominant role even though he fought against it, making some male actor the lead and changing some of the story

-> All this time thought you were maybe Wolverine’s daughter

-> But… your personality was more like Wade’s, a friend of Johnny’s who played your other “crude” half Deadpool that was actually really you as well

-> You could be two different people, and he liked that

-> So you were real, and Tomas wanted to always have his eyes on the legend herself

-> Soon enough, about some months later and after visiting the Shirai Ryu enough times, you talked to him about your trauma

-> He told you he knew about it, but he’s not one to judge what you went through

-> After all, he lost family too

-> Secretly wants to find out what exactly you can live through

All Brothers

-> Tomas is protective of you, Bi Han wants to push you to your limits, and Kuai is the one who makes sure you do the right thing, even if you feel like a bad person

-> Tomas very much admires you and I’m sure he, Johnny, and Raiden have made a fan club about you

-> Bi Han is the one who punishes you for wrongdoings, even going as far as to hurt you to make you listen

-> Kuai Liang is the one who takes care of you on your rougher days

-> All three understand they have no place try and understand the torture and pain you went through

-> All three have thought about you fighting them in a 3v1

-> You become the most important person to them for various reasons

-> Bi Han makes you important by telling you and reminding you of all the things you’ve fought so far, how strong you are to still be alive

-> Tomas always has your back through anything, specially missions or when it’s just him and you

-> Kuai always reassures you that even if you’ve done some bad things in the past, that’s not what you always will be defined as

-> However, they know you’re technically immortal and that even if you are and they aren’t, they’ll still treat you like a normal person

-> If you ever have nightmares, each brother does a different thing depending on who’s around

-> If it’s just you and Bi Han alone, he’ll immediately come to find you if you’re having a panic attack or a flashback of awful things you’ve done and said before

-> He chills you down when you’re thrashing in your sleep and burning up

-> He knows you’re not a shitty person like everyone said you were, you’re just a broken “hero” who’s been screwed over so many times

-> If it’s you and Kuai, Kuai always stays nearby with anything you need and if you need alone time, he’s still around with food or comfort

-> Always enforces that you will always be a “hero” even if you don’t feel worthy

-> Is the one who will watch your “movies” with you

-> If it’s Tomas, he’s always by your side, never wavering or leaving

-> He’s the one who’s protecting you, making sure your bad days will be good ones in any way he can

-> He’s the one you talk about your past “transgressions” with

-> Tomas always has some sort comfort thing for you wether it be a blanket or a food you like

-> When they’re all there and you’re having a breakdown or nightmare, they’ll each find a spot to be near you with all three of them cuddled against you like you’re a child

-> You’re all snuggled together like a family even if you’re all different

-> They’ll all stay till you’re comfortable, focused, and ready to keep fighting ahead

A/N: as you can see, I’m very partial to Tomas I’m sorry🤣🤣🤣 Anyways I’m back from vacation now (my bf and I went on a trip)

[leapingbadger]

Hide and Seek

word count: 1043

notes: ties in a little to my story "Sunset" but you don't need to read that to understand this.

Hunter sat, face towards the sun on the stone patio, a smirk on his lips. Giggles and shrieks came from inside the house. Omega was playing hide and seek with her “baby brothers” Stak, Deke and Mox. Judging from the noise, Hunter didn’t imagine any of them were winning.

Omega fell through the front door and onto the patio, “Huntah, you have to hide me,” she whispered, a grin spreading from ear to ear.

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of the game?” he replied, amused.

She rolled her eyes and brushed her blonde hair out of her face, eyes darting for another place to disappear. “I’ve already been under all the beds, a kitchen cupboard and behind a lamp in the living room.

“How did you hide behind a lamp?” Hunter asked, impressed.

She waved off his question with her hand and ducked under the bench he was sitting on.

“Omega,”

Just then Stak skidded onto the patio. “Where is she?” he asked, wild eyes

“I really don’t think you understand how this game works” Hunter chuckled.

“She’s won twelve games in a row. But I’ve got her this time” He sank to his knees, looking under the bench, the long wooden table and over the brick wall to the path beyond. “Ah! I thought she’d be here,” he said angrily.   

“Any luck yet?” Mox and Deke stuck their heads out of the door too.

“Nothing. She’s a ghost,” They all piled back inside the house to start the search again.

Hunter looked under the bench and couldn’t help but be proud. Omega was clinging to the underside, her arms and legs spread in an X shape. “Need a hand” he said, offering to help her extricate her from her current predicament.

She smiled, taking his offered hand to clambered out. “I really thought they’d get me this time,” she said, collapsing on the bench next to Hunter. “I guess climbing through the walls in Tantis was more useful than I thought.” She said it lightly, in the same sunshiny way she talked about everything, but a cloud had formed behind her eyes.

The smile faded from Hunter’s face too and he felt a twinge in his back that seemed to appear whenever Tantis was mentioned. “But we’re safe now,” he said, gazing out at the turquoise sea and breathing in the sweet, salty air of Pabu.  

“Uhuh” she agreed, leaning into his outstretched arm.

Hunter closed his eyes, again enjoying the warm sun on his face. A fresh breeze ruffled his hair.

“Huntah?”

“uhum?” he grunted, not moving from his contented spot. Soaking all the peace and warmth into his bones.

“You said we could be whatever we wanted to be now…”

Hunter opened his eyes and looked at her, his Omega. She was playing with the silver, Ingot necklace that he had given her. A remnant from his footlocker on the marauder. He had no idea how it survived the explosion.

The occasional part of the ship still washed up on Pabu’s beach. The chair from the gunners mount, a storage locker and the necklace, wrapped around some string lights.

“…what is it that you want to be?” she asked sheepishly

“That’s a good question, Kid.” He said with a sigh, “I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“Crosshair’s got his painting, Wrecker is fishing. I’m in school. You’re the only one who…” she trailed off, but he knew what she was trying to say.

Hunter had been the one pushing for a civilian life, a quiet life away from war. The irony wasn’t lost on him that he was the one struggling to adapt to it the most. He loved the quiet, the warmth and the wonder of the little things in their lives now. But he missed having a sense of purpose, a direction.

Tech had always called him the squad’s compass. Always pointing at the right track, but suddenly they had no direction. Their time was idle and serene. The only real job he had left was keeping an eye on his squad, and even that was pretty superfluous these days.

He turned and noticed Omega looking at him intently, her brow furrowed slightly.

“Is there something bothering you?” he asked

She looked down at her hands still playing with the necklace but was struggling to find the words, “I just…was thinking…I mean. You’re going off with Rex in a few days. And I know it’s just one mission but…what if you…what if you get hurt and we aren’t there to help you? Or what if you decide to leave, like Echo did,” the last part of the sentence fell out of her mouth almost involuntarily.

Hunter gave her a soft smile and sat up straighter so he could look her directly in her amber eyes.  “I’m not going anywhere, Kid. My place is with you and Crosshair and Wrecker.” He paused, thinking about the upcoming mission. It would be dangerous, he knew that. “I won’t be gone for too long. It’s just a favor for an old friend. This is my home. This is where I’ll come back to.”

Omega seemed satisfied with his reply. Her smile returned and she once again leaned into his arm and they both gazed at the sea. One of the islands many moon-yos jumped onto the stone wall in front of the patio, gazed at them both quickly and dashed off the catch up with its friends.

“GOTCHA,” Stak screeched.

Omega and Hunter turned around to take in the triumphant look on his face. He was sweaty, his dark hair brushed away from his eyes but sticking to his forehead.

Omega smiled at him, “were we still playing?” she asked before going back and looking out at the beautiful ocean view. It never ceased to impress.   

Hunter stifled a smile as Stak looked crestfallen. “Why don’t you check on Wrecker, I think he’s got a new batch of cookies coming out of the over any minute,” the cadet’s eyes lit up and he dived back through the door. The sweet scent wafted out to the patio, but Hunter and Omega remained on their bench, watching the ocean waves lap against the hull of the old boats. Just letting time pass.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Shifting Wings: Chapter Fifteen

Shifting Wings: Before the Raven Matthew, there was Jessamy, and Jessamy came with a little sister by the name of Adrienne. Dream adores his two little Ravens, but after over a hundred years of imprisonment and the death of Jessamy, Dream will find that he has not just lost his companion, but his beloved little Raven Adrienne no longer brightens the halls of his Palace. None of his staff wish to speak of where the Raven has gone, but the silent new resident of the palace is cause for question. After all, she was the one who aided in his release. If none of his subjects would help him find Adrienne, perhaps she could lead him to the whereabouts of the missing Raven. If only the woman wasn’t so flighty and hard to track down.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No), You Get ONE Happy Chapter!

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x FemaleRaven!Reader, NAMED Reader (I like the name).

Word Count: ~2.4k

Previous | Masterlist

“I’ve got ‘em, Luce,” You called as you picked up the books that had appeared on the shelving bookshelf, newly written. Lucienne leaned over the railing of the second floor, her brow furrowed.

“That is not your duty, Adrienne,” Holding the books against your chest, you looked up at the librarian with a raised brow.

“I didn’t say it was,” You replied before pointing out the obvious. “But you are swamped and I’ve nothing to do so don’t argue with me.” Lucienne wanted to glare at you as you moved towards the shelves, but she couldn’t argue with that fact.

“If Lord Morpheus catches you…”

“Lord Morpheus is far too busy to be constantly watching me,” You cut her off while sliding a book into place. “And should it come to that, I will handle it.”

“He may be busy but he shall never be so busy that he does not have the time to check on you,” Lucienne warned before shuffling away. You turned back to the shelves and put the rest of the books in your arms, away. Ultimately, you found yourself wandering the halls of the palace, enjoying seeing the many dreamers that now frequented the realm. You preferred it to be more lively for you knew that it pleased Morpheus to see his realm filled once again.

There were a group of dreamers wandering through the open parts of the palace, guided by Pācātus, the dream of calm and peacefulness. Of course they weren’t explicitly supposed to follow her, for the Dreaming was a place to dream not be hindered by walls. Occasionally some broke away to inspect places of the palace closer, like the ballroom, or the billiards room, even the music room was a popular gathering place. Hands behind your back, you wandered yourself, admiring the many murals painted upon the ceiling.

You probably ought to spent a week just walking the halls, seeing all of the murals that decorated both walls and ceilings… but even then it wouldn’t be enough time to full enjoy the place you lived within.

“You like art too?” Upon hearing a voice beside you, you turned your head to see a dreamer admiring the artwork. You smiled pleasantly.

“Very much so, I consider it my profession,” The dreamer raised his eyebrow at your words and his own smile widened. “I haven’t painted murals like this,” You continued, turning your eyes back to the artwork high above. “But I love to draw and paint.”

“Is that why you are here and not with the tour group?” The dreamer asked, taking a step closer. “I mean the dream leading it seems really knowledgable and how often do you get to visit a place like this?”

“I’m not one to follow the predetermined path,” You answered, turning in place to face him. “Do you enjoy the pencil and brush as well? Or do you prefer to appreciate?”

“I’m a photographer,” The dreamer explained to you, he flashed you another charming smile. “I do a lot of portraits and I can say that you are a very photogenic woman,”

“Am I?” You blinked and considered his words. “I do not think I have ever had my picture taken, let alone had a portrait made.”

“Well that’s a shame, you are such a beautiful woman.” You opened your mouth to thank him for his compliment, when someone called your name, your other name.

“Corvus,” Your head snapped around to see Morpheus brooding at the other end of the room. He was glowering, you could see that. He had also called you Corvus. He only did that for official business and even then it was never to you, always in reference. “Come, we have work to do.” Had you forgotten a meeting or talk with him? What had sullied his mood? You couldn’t remember and looked back to the dreamer with an apologetic smile.

“Apologies, but I must return to my duties, please enjoy the rest of your stay within our realm,” You were walking past the dreamer towards Morpheus, unable to see the shock and disappointment on the dreamers face. When you reached Morpheus, he took your elbow and was promptly striding away, pulling you along. Morpheus’s pace was fast, his long legs taking great strides while you scrambled to catch up. “Morpheus?” You asked, panicking that you had forgotten something important with the way he was dragging you along. “Morpheus did I forget—”

You were spun in dizzying circle while ushered into an alcove. Just as your back hit the wall, Morpheus cupped the side of your face and loomed over you, pressing his lips against your own. He kissed you with ferocious passion, highlighted by a touch of possession for he had not liked the sight of a dreamer flirting with you. You were his consort, not that dreamer’s. So the Endless kissed you, licked at your lips with his devilish tongue until you parted them with a soft sigh and then took more.

You whimpered softly when his tongue tangled with yours and lifted yourself onto your toes. Your hands slipped over his shoulders and pulled Morpheus closer to your body, and the Endless fed off it. Morpheus clutched you closer, his free hand wandering over your sculpted body and devouring what he found there. Breaking the tongue lock, Morpheus kissed you again and again, ravaging your lips until they stung and you were gasping. Melting against him.

“You are my consort,” He growled against your lips, his breaths heavy and thick. You shuddered and raised a hand to slip your fingers into midnight strands. He kissed you once more, this time pressing so close your faces were touching. “And I should make you my queen so that all dreamers know the you are not available.” Oh, oh my. Now you understood what had gotten into him. Stroking your fingers through Morpheus’s hair, you pushed back against his rabid kisses. You flicked your tongue along his lips, enjoying the way Morpheus’s grasp upon your body tightened, and then slipped your tongue across his once more. You really could never get enough of his cosmic taste. Several more moments of fevered kisses passed before Morpheus pulled back, resting his forehead on yours and brushing his fingers down your cheek. “I am going to make you my queen, Adrienne, tomorrow if it means that every dreamer knows you are mine.”

You blinked and tilted your head back to look in his eyes.

“Morpheus, I am sure that is not necessary…” You soothed, running your fingers further through his hair and nuzzling your face against his. Your physical touch always seemed to calm him down. “The dreamers are fleeting and ignorant, take no mind to their whims.”

“Their whims should not involve you, beloved,” Morpheus answered you, soaking in the heat from your lips and face. He wanted more. He wanted so much more and he could have it. You didn’t gasp or blink when Morpheus plucked your feet from the floor, you didn’t mind when sand wove around your body and the alcove disappeared. You definitely didn’t complain when you and Morpheus appeared in your bedroom and you were deposited onto your bed. Morpheus loomed over you, framing you in while his lips carved lines of tingles along your shoulder and neck.

“You know I am only yours,” You whispered, sliding your fingers over Morpheus’s shoulders and up his neck. Turning your head, you kissed his hair. “Did you not form me for you?” A rumble sounded from Morpheus, one caught between satisfaction and yearning. “Your dream of ravens. Your Corvus.”

“I wish for all who sets their gaze upon you to instantly know that you are mine,” He added, teeth tugging at the neckline of your waistcoat, then to your button down. You were always dressed impeccably, there was no denying that, but at the moment? Your clothes were a hinderance. So he got rid of them without a second thought. Morpheus pressed his mouth against your neck, kissing your skin and running his teeth at the point where your pulse of life fluttered.

Moaning sweetly, one of your hands departed onyx locks to drag down Morpheus’s neck. The Endless shivered beneath your touch, raspily groaning beneath your barely there touch. Morpheus had an infinite amount of patience, but not when it came to you. While his hands wandered your body with an increased fervor, teeth scraped up your neck. Morpheus returned his lips to yours. He kissed you hungrily, body draping along yours as remaining fabric separating your bodies disappeared.

Morpheus held your jaw and kissed you repeatedly for a few seconds more, slowly, deeply, making sure that his tongue was as tangled with yours as possible. Your fingertips trickled down his back, tracing the beautiful lines before you sank your nails into his flesh and breathlessly whined. You could only take him kissing you like this for a little while before needed more.

“Morpheus,” You whined, squirming beneath him and scratching further at his skin. Your Endless lover dragged his tongue across your lip and kissed you deeply once more before pulling back to look in your eyes. You gave him a pleading look and tugged on his hair. “Please don’t tease me, not this day,” You whimpered, feeling his beautifully sculpted body pressing against yours. Morpheus nuzzled your face and brushed his lips back over yours.

“Do not despair, my dream, for I do not intend to keep you at my mercy,” Morpheus purred, running a hand down your side and appreciating your gentle curves. That devilish touch didn’t stop until your legs were pushed apart, and even then, as Morpheus slid his cock into your eagerly waiting body, his touch was quick to return to your stomach. He could feel the way you trembled, lavished in your breathy sounds, and thoroughly enjoyed the way you twisted beneath him for more.

“Morpheus, my love,” You gasped out when he pressed the length of his body against yours. You could feel every inch of his length within you, feel every hardened muscle and tendon that was draped along your softer body. Your walls clenched around Morpheus’s cock and he angled your face so he was looking in your eyes once more.

“Are you really that hungry for me, my dream?” He questioned softly. You opened your mouth to reply but midway through your first syllable, Morpheus drew his hips back and sank back into your hot cunt. A strained gurgle departed your lips while you dug the nails of your left hand into his back. He nuzzled your face and brushed his lips against yours. “Hmm? Use your words, beloved,” You wanted to. Oh how you wanted to, but every time you tried he just thrust back into your body and stole your breath and sound. That made the Endless very happy, for his smirk widened every time you whimpered or squeaked when his hips met yours. He liked the feeling your pelvis rubbing against his, the more skin the better.

It was a particular vice of his to feel your arousal slipping from your body and smearing against his skin when he ground his hips against yours. Feel the way you slowly writhed and clung closer each and every time Morpheus’s cock slipped through your clenching walls to bury so deeply you would feel him for days. Morpheus was obsessed with you, obsessed with your touch, with your love, and his being ached with how much he felt for you. You cried out once more, your body clenching around the cock that somehow managed hit the perfect spot every time Morpheus thrust into your body. The pleasure building within your body was getting to be too much, that you knew. Morpheus pressed his lips against the skin beneath your ear.

“Tell me, my dream,” He rasped, urging you, pushing you towards ecstasy in a way that left your nails raking harshly across his back. “Tell me, beloved, how much do you need me?” You gasped and clenched your legs around him, digging fingers into his flesh, bucking your hips into the ones crashing against your own. “Tell me.”

“Ravenous,” You finally managed to wail, twisting your face so your own as near his. You had tears of frustration within your eyes because as much as you wanted to feel the high of an orgasm, your dark and dangerous lover was keeping you at the brink and not allowing you to fall. “I. Am. Ravenous!”  Entirely pleased with your wails, Morpheus kissed your lips and pushed you over the edge.

Head falling back, your entire body convulsed for a few seconds, tremoring and shaking as you came harshly around Morpheus’s cock. The high and pleasure rushing through your veins had such a grip on your body you could barely feel Morpheus continuing to fuck you, eyes glowing as he finally chased after his own pleasure. He spilled his seed into your body, shuddering and clutching you close to him when you whimpered and twitched, your body going slack beneath him. Morpheus allowed himself the pleasure to half lay on you, using your soft body as a place of comfort.

“I do not believe Abel will forgive us if we elope.” You spoke softly, slowly coming down from the high of pleasure and ecstasy. Your fingers returned to dark strands and you stroked Morpheus’s hair “And Matthew said he wants to be a bridesman, but I do not know what that means…”

“It is tempting thought.” Morpheus mused, nuzzling his face into your neck. “But you are right, beloved, many of our people would not be happy if we did so.”

“So what shall we do then?” You asked, wondering what to do about this predicament… because the longer you remained unmarried, the higher the chance there was of Morpheus taking off with you to elope.

“First thing tomorrow I shall convene with Lucienne and Mervyn to discuss planning our wedding, beloved,” Morpheus murmured, kissing your neck. You smiled and stroked his scalp, holding him close and resting your cheek against the top of his head. “We shall be joined within Fiddler’s Green, at the lavender grove, surrounded by our people and family.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. Jessamy’s remains were buried in the lavender grove. You would be getting married with your sister at your side. Tears prickled at the edges of yours, tears of both sadness and happiness. Jessamy would never truly be gone, for she would live on in the heart of The Dreaming.

“That sounds perfect, my Dream.” You whispered, finally at peace with your sisters passing.

Date Published: 8/9/23

Last Edit: 8/9/23

Previous | Masterlist

[snowbellewells]

"Carolina Moon" update {Chapter Two}

Hello Friends! Here we are at last with the next chapter of my @cssns23 fic!! I sincerely never meant to keep everyone waiting so long; real life got really hectic there for a bit, and I had to focus on the job that pays the bills in the few hours that were left over! Anyway, I hope that you'll forgive me and enjoy this update. If it's any sort of consolation, it nearly doubles the length of the story so far...

Also, this story is now moving into M-rated territory. After talking with a few fandom friends and readers, this seems like the way to go to be on the safe side and let everyone know what they're reading upfront. I don't know that I find my love scenes half as spicy as others I've read, but there is one for sure in this chapter, and it will not be the last before all is said and done. I hope that doesn't turn anyone away from reading, but I would rather someone know before starting than be bothered by it after the fact.

**As always, thank you SO MUCH to @eastwesthomeisbest for this beautiful cover art to go along with the story, and to @xarandomdreamx for her thoughtful beta reading comments, suggestions, and encouragement.**

Can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Two: Secrets Beneath the Surface

By the time Killian got back home to the family home that afternoon, he could already hear their housekeeper Johanna scolding Ruby from the kitchen, as soon as he crossed the threshold. “Well, what else was you expectin’ Miss Sassy Britches, sashayin’ all over town the way you do? Didja think that would make you a lot of friends ‘mongst the other young ladies?”

Killian kicked off his shoes in the mud room, well aware that the older woman who had practically raised he and Ruby - more so than either of their parents had done - would turn on him next if he tracked up her clean floors. Making his way quietly along the well-worn path to the kitchen at the back of the house, he could practically hear his sister huff and sputter indignantly at Johanna’s rebuke and picture all too well the way she’d roll her eyes and pout, before grumpily going to Johanna’s side and taking up whatever chore the woman had no doubt bid her to help with before their little spat had begun.

It was a rhythm as old as Killian could remember, since almost the first afternoon Johanna Bishop had appeared in their kitchen - cooking, cleaning, puttering and tending to all the essential but seemingly unworthy, household chores his mother simply couldn’t be bothered with. If - as the Jones children had grown - those chores also came to include bandaging scraped knees, soothing hurt feelings, listening to whispered wishes, and cuddling and correcting where needed, well, that had fallen naturally under her purview as well. Even more so when the three children had become just two.

Stopping in the open doorway, Killian leaned against the jamb for a moment, trying to keep his chuckling to himself as he watched his tall, leggy sibling with brilliant red streaks running through her dark hair frowning in deep concentration next to the short, rather round Johanna, trying diligently to match the rosy-cheeked, twinkling-eyed matron’s deft and graceful speed at coring and slicing apples, and failing miserably. He must have made some involuntary noise, however, because both women looked up at him in surprise.

Johanna’s bright eyes smiled at him as her cheeks crinkled with the welcoming grin he could always look forward to, no matter how long he had been gone, whenever he returned. Ruby stuck her tongue out at him when he smirked at her efforts, arching an eyebrow as if to question what in the world she was trying to do.

“Oh? Think you can do better, do you?” she challenged, flipping a discarded peel his way, before Johanna hushed her, not about to have food flying on her watch, just before Mrs. Jones’ formal dinner was expected in the dining room; as formally as it had been expected every night for years.

They all quieted for a moment at that remembrance, none of them necessarily wanting to summon the lady of the house any sooner than necessary - though that feeling went unspoken. Johanna’s nimble fingers flew over her task, the knife flashing with ease, and Killian noticed that Ruby’s movements gained confidence as well the longer she worked at it.

Giving a bit of a playful bow in flirtatious chivalry, he greeted them with, “How can I help, Miss Johanna?” and his most charming grin.

“Oh Sugar,” she demurred, “you don’t need to do nothin’ but pull up a chair and tell me ‘bout your day. Things are almost ready in here.”

Pausing to put a hand on her hip, Ruby mock glared at him, before turning to the older woman in challenge. “And why are you always nagging me, and then turning around and acting just sweet as sugar to Killian? I suppose he’s your favorite now, too?”

Ruby’s question was largely put-on sass, that melted into an unconvinced, “Uh huh, sure,” when Johanna blithely assured her that “Sweetness is as sweetness does.” All the same, Killian could see the doubt underneath her churlishness, and the longing in his sister’s expression, not wanting this one person she depended on, no matter how much they snipe at each other, to dismiss her as everyone else did. Honestly, Killian thought to himself with a guilty pang, he had written her off and disregarded her many times himself over the years. He hadn’t done it to be cruel, more out of his own survival instincts and desire to avoid conflict. Where he had withdrawn into his own thoughts, focused on achieving goals, meeting the standards set for him, making up for what had been lost, even if he ran himself ragged in the attempt, Ruby had instead completely cut herself free from all boundaries and expectations, going wild, or at least appearing so to the untrained eye. The moment she had gotten the chance, she’d fled Storybrooke on the back of her boyfriend’s Harley - eloping and not returning to Storybrooke until she had seen her fill of everywhere else. She played at nonchalance - as if nothing bothered her or could even penetrate the perfectly painted-on armor their mother had taught her to apply so well long ago.

She hadn’t really been back home that long, but Killian found himself wanting to get to know Ruby all over again, to bridge the gap that had grown between them over the years while they each attempted to weather the hurt and neglect in their own ways. The simplest method for doing that seemed to be in joining the easy banter between Ruby and Johanna, so he waggled both eyebrows at her, both in playful challenge and as an annoyance to his ‘little’ sister, then he circled the island easily to pull Johanna into a side-hug and plant a smacking kiss on the older woman’s cheek before nettling Ruby with, “Hear that? I’m sweetness itself. Maybe you should try a little sweetness sometimes and see how far it gets you.”

Johanna’s softly weathered cheeks crinkled with well-worn laugh lines, even as she rolled her eyes and shooed him away - but not before he snatched a sugar and cinnamon-dusted slice of apple from the pie crust she was crimping, causing Ruby’s eyes to narrow at him further in playful indignation. “You just hush now with all that, Killian Jones,” their housekeeper scolded. “Your sister has more than enough sweetness to share when she takes the notion - you just don’t give her any more reasons to be sour.” And though the woman who had been with their family for as long as Killian could remember, imbuing their kitchen with a warmth and comfort that the rest of the pristine, stately old home notably lacked, was warning him with her words, she also winked at him slyly - letting him know that she was glad he’d joined their fun, and that she was still nettling Ruby a bit herself.

Shaking out her mane of dark hair with a dramatic flounce, and planting her red-lacquer nailed hands on her hips, Ruby fixed them both with a fiery look. “Just the two of you know, plenty of people find me a delight to be around. Maybe I should take myself off somewhere I’m appreciated.” Turning on her heel with all the precision and purpose of a high fashion runway model rather than the demure Southern debutante their mother had hoped for, she stalked toward the doorway which led from the kitchen back into the hall, only to turn around before she left with a retort on her tongue when Johanna called after her.

“You tell that nice Dr. Hunter hello for me, Ruby Jean. You should bring him round here for a nice, home cooked meal sometime. That sweet young man needs a little meat on his bones.”

“But - I didn’t - why do you think- ?” Ruby spluttered indignantly, never finishing any of the attempted comebacks and finally just snapping her mouth closed and shaking her head with vigorous agitation.

Killian would have been laughing at her plight if he hadn’t been so wide-eyed and flummoxed himself by their housekeeper’s words. Oh, he’d known alright that his best friend since grade school had been nursing a painfully awkward silent crush on his remaining sibling, pretty much since puberty. What he’d never realized or noticed as Ruby had chewed up and spit out a first husband and teased and strung along countless other men since, was that maybe she was aware of Graham’s feelings - possibly even returned them.

“And you,” she turned from squinting at Johanna as if sizing her up to point an accusing finger at Killian, “don’t just think you can come in here and take over the one room in this place where I can actually breathe, just because you’re the family’s perfect prince and entitled to whatever you want.”

Killian jerked back at the sharp edge to her voice until he looked for a moment at the tensed pain of her features behind the dangerously flashing brown eyes. She was hurting - aching, in fact - at the idea that her one ally in her own home might also turn to the heir, her big brother, as well.

He had always known she snapped and hissed partly out of pain; he felt it too. They all did. He missed Rose awfully - more than he would have ever imagined - but to have shared the womb with her? To have been joined with her from birth and then suddenly find her gone? He couldn’t imagine that. And maybe he hadn’t really wanted to see just how much turmoil hid beneath his sister’s vexing habit of picking fights and pretending he drove her crazy, or how much loneliness was painted over with her vivacious bombshell facade. At any rate, he didn’t pick an angle and fight back at her as he normally would have, instead he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, giving a slight dip of the chin and a tentative smile. “Aye, Ru… Well do I know you and Johanna are the undisputed queens of this domain. I only wanted to join you for a moment.”

She huffed as if not knowing quite what to make of his earnest admission, then with a shrug of her shoulders and one more toss of her head, she merely replied, “Whatever you say,” and was gone. But he hadn’t missed that small half smile tilting up one corner of her mouth, or the spark of hope in her eyes. Maybe they weren’t as far removed from each other as he had feared.

Johanna turned and tilted her head up to look at him knowingly before patting him on the cheek and affirming, “You’re a good boy, Killian. You always have been. And you’ve grown into a fine man. Just don’t you give up on that sassy sister of yours, you hear? She needs us more than she’d like to own. Much like Miss Emma, I’ll wager.”

Killian smiled at the older woman warmly before nodding in agreement and scoffing lightly at her uncanny prediction, knowing she had him there and he couldn’t even argue. “You’ve always seen a lot more than we realize, haven’t you?”

She was the one to wink knowingly at him this time. “You’d better believe it,” she retorted. “That’s part of my charm.”

Chuckling and shaking his head, Killian wasn’t about to challenge her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Not half an hour later, at Hunter Veterinary Clinic on the outskirts of town, Graham was closing up for the evening when he heard the bell on the door jangle, signaling someone’s arrival. He was puttering around in the back, making sure that the surgery was cleaned and sterilized for the following morning, and that the mother golden retriever and her unexpected litter of mixed breed pups he’d delivered in a tense, last minute c-section that afternoon were settled in the kennel area for the night, and he had been certain they (he and the dogs) were the only ones still there. He knew that Grace, his summer assistant while she was home from college, was normally careful to be sure the sign was off and the door closed and locked when she left, but maybe she’d forgotten something.

“I’m in back!” he called out distractedly, still running over his mental checklist of closing chores to accomplish as he awaited an answer. “But we’re closed for the evening. Is this an emergenc– “

The door from the waiting room and lobby swung open while he was still speaking, only to reveal a vision that made him choke on the end of his words and nearly swallow his own tongue as well. Graham knew he had flushed all over almost instantaneously at the sight before him, a sweat that was part embarrassment and part lustful attraction breaking out across his skin. His eyes were wide as he shook his head in stunned disbelief, drinking in the temptation of Ruby Jones posing seductively where she leaned against the doorframe and watched him knowingly.

When several silent moments had ticked by, the heat and tension in the room between them only climbing higher, Ruby finally quirked a dark, artfully sculpted brow and smirked at him, those full red lips glistening in a lure so effective Graham could think of nothing but grabbing her, pulling her close, and capturing them with his own until his need was sated. And she knew it too - she always had. Pushing off from the wall and slinking toward him purposefully on blood red kitten heels, she began to unknot the belt of the trench coat cinched at her waist as she fairly purred her response. “Well, you see, Doctor Hunter, it is an emergency. I’m burning up with fever - one only you can break.”

By then, she stood directly in front of him, where he had backed up against the stainless steel surgical table and was clenching and releasing his hands into tight fists, straining mightily to keep himself from grabbing her and clutching much too tightly. Ruby Jones was nothing if not untamed; a wild bird that ventured close, playfully allowing the observer to think he could hold her. But he knew she would flit off and leave him behind again if he made the wrong move. Instead, Graham watched her intently, muscle working in his jaw as her graceful fingers danced across his chest and shoulders, tracing over muscle and skin, inflaming him with her touch as she went. Tilting her head to one side, Ruby shamelessly licked her lip before grinning broadly. “What’s the matter, Hunter? Cat got your tongue?” She snorted at her own little joke. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Bringing her hands to the lapels of the coat she wore, now loosened and unbelted, Ruby parted the fabric on either side and allowed the garment to fall to the floor at their feet. Pleased amusement flooded her veins at Graham’s bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Completely bare beneath the thin jacket, she’d felt a thrill running through her since leaving the house in search of him, and the power sizzling along her nerve endings, where she usually felt as though she were careening out of control, was genuinely intoxicating.

Poor Graham couldn’t seem to move and managed only to hoarsely croak out, “Ruby, w-what are you…?  Someone could… could walk in here and see…  This is a place of business! You can’t just…” He swallowed hard, and her eyes tracked the reflexive movement of his Adam’s apple with ravenous intent.

“Are you sure about that, Doc?” she teased seductively, clicking the ‘c’ with her tongue exaggeratedly, despite his eyes already being glued to her lips - and every other part of her on display before him. Voice low and throaty, cajoling him to take what he very clearly wanted - what she wanted too - she added, “I’m pretty sure I can actually. I’m standing right here waiting. What are you going to do about it?”

His handsome face reflected his inner conflict for several long moments, and Ruby fought not to hold her breath in worried anticipation. She didn’t care that much if he accepted her offer, she tried to tell herself, but deep down she was well aware of how much of a lie that was. Brow furrowed, Graham struggled to resist her manfully, but it was a lost battle even before he began. He had never been able to deny her; they both knew it, and today would not be any different. At last, with a growl of mingled frustration and lust, he lurched forward, his dexterous, long-fingered hands gripped her hips and pulled them into his own roughly before practically devouring her mouth with an almost maddened groan of arousal.

Sinking into his clutches, Ruby thrilled at his loss of control, all synapses firing and the blood boiling in her arteries as he finally gave her exactly what she wanted. Clinging to his bicep to stay upright as her knees went weak, Ruby plunged her other hand into his hair, mussing the honey-coloured curls he’d never outgrown between her fingers and pulling them tightly in response to his ardent desire and how he was further igniting her own.

Desperate by then, Graham was long past caring who might have seen her walk in past closing, what small town rumors might get started, whether or not Ruby was simply using him again to have a little fun and forget the past that nipped at her heels, and how he knew it would chip away another small piece of his soul when they finished and she wouldn’t stay in his arms. Whirling to push her back against the exam table in the center of the room, earning him an enthusiastic moan from deep in Ruby’s throat, even muffled by his own lips over hers.  Sweeping a hand over the cool, hard surface with reckless abandon, Graham cleared it to easily lift her onto the tabletop and soon had her spread out on it, frantically working to strip out of his lab coat and remove his shirt, even as her grasping hands fumbled for the button and zipper of of his pants to free him to her touch.

Writhing against him, Ruby grinned up at him wolfishly, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, every bit the goddess he’d never been able to deny a thing: the dessert from his sack lunch, the use of his first car, and every inch of his body and corner of his heart. She wrapped her long legs around his trim hips, demandingly pulling him closer still, before he thrust forward and finally sunk into her willing body, welcomed home once more.

Leaning over her as he moved, Graham captured her nipple between his teeth, his scruff abrading the sensitive skin around it as he did and stealing her breath when he bit down just at the edge of too much. He captured both her hands, twining their fingers together and pressing them to the steel surface on either side of her head. Setting the rhythm they both craved, feeling the rightness of what he had missed echoing through his body as they moved together, Graham forced himself to take the moment he had; enjoy it, love her enough so that she would feel it, despite refusing to see what they could have always, and not let himself think of what came after.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Killian had just left the kitchen, still contemplating his relationship with his sister and the things Johanna had told him, when he was brought up short by the regal, silent appearance of his mother, Cora Jones, the once-belle of Storybrooke, in the hall nearby, studying him with an icy assessment which made him feel distinctly like she had heard all they had said and could read his mind beside. Forcing himself not to startle or recoil physically like some teenager caught sneaking out past curfew (he had actually never been caught at that in his youth, though by the time he’d had a license and places to run, the dangers parents fear for their children at night had long since struck and the damage been done) Killian gave his mother a nod of respectful deference, smiling at her carefully and waited, knowing there must be something she intended to say.

Cora’s bearing was still poised and correct, standing straight enough to appear taller than her actual height, her chin tilted rather haughtily. Even in the comfort of her own home, before no one but her eldest child, her skirt and jacket ensemble was impeccably tailored and she had not a hair out of place, her makeup flawless. Her eyes had lost none of their shrewdness as she moved nearer to her golden years. And Killian couldn’t help wondering with a blend of bitter sadness if she would allow anything about them to be golden or fulfilling. His mother retained all of the clout and reputation she had held in her prime, but her sharp edges had only grown harder and more jagged with the loss of, first her favored child, and then her husband, to his own grief and poor choices.

He was right of course. A moment later Cora’s clear, measured voice reached his ears with unmistakable authority; as always, she meant what she said and expected to be obeyed. Though his mother had never been especially warm or effusive, Killian had always known she was pleased with him, proud that he was living up to the Jones family name as she saw fit. Things he really had no power or control over - his natural good looks, athleticism, intellect, and so on - were only to be expected, and so, when he excelled in school, made the papers and the Homecoming court, and earned a college scholarship, or when the other mothers in her social circle all enviously wanted their daughters to catch his eye, well then Killian was merely behaving as he ought and garnering just the sort of attention she had hoped he would. He had grown up following in his father’s footsteps, learning all he could about running their small shipping business and how to manage all that would one day be his.

Killian had never rebelled or railed against the expectations, the assumption that he would blindly follow along on the path laid out for him, until recently. He had made several changes to modernize and streamline the business - almost two years ago now - and things had been tense between he and his mother as a result. Cora did not welcome change in any arena, not unless it was on her orders, and though she deeply resented her husband’s gradual decline and eventual abandonment at his death, she did not see why Killian needed to upgrade what had always worked well for Brennan. She had gone as far as threatening to withdraw her shares from the operation until Killian’s changes had doubled - then tripled - their profits, word of mouth bringing in a steady stream of new clients and renewed raves from established ones at their company’s efficiency and success. There was no arguing with such hard evidence, and so Cora had grudgingly relented, but she had not forgotten.

However, even at a glance, Killian could see that the bone she meant to pick with him would not be resolved with patience and time. He gritted his teeth against offering a harsh warning for her to save her breath. He knew before she spoke a word what she wanted to discuss, but this time she would find him every bit as unyielding as she was herself.

Without further preamble, Cora leveled her accusation. “You’re renting that cabin on the marsh to her, aren’t you? Despite what she’s done, and knowing how it would displease me, you’ve let that Swan girl waltz right back into our lives and invited her to make herself at home. I simply cannot understand it, Killian.” Her words were clipped out distinctly, but as cold and pointed as chips of ice. “Do you not remember what associating with the likes of her cost your sister? Or are you looking for a reason to spite me? I hardly think I have done anything to merit such hurtful defiance.”

She waited, seeming to have all the time in the world for her son’s reply, but Killian was still tempted to stare back, challenging her silently, waiting to speak until he discovered whether the pristine veneer she presented to her family right along with the rest of the world would crack and show some human feeling underneath. In the end though, Killian couldn’t hold out forever; she was still his mother, and despite his frustration, the manners she had pressed into him from birth would not allow it. Not only that, but he knew what she had suffered, the pain and loss she had endured - just as he had. It might have made her brittle and untouchable, but he always had the hope somehow that things might thaw between them yet.

With a sigh, he released the answer on a low breath, still meeting her eyes to let her know both his resolve and that he was hardly ashamed of his choices. “You clearly already know that I am, Mother. Though you might not believe this, it was not a decision made to hurt anyone - least of all you. Emma Swan is moving back into town. She needed a place to stay, and ours was available to rent. Honestly, I was glad to have it, to do something to help her out after how horribly we treated her years ago.”

He meant every word, but, as he had expected, her eyes widened with indignance, her voice finally losing its polished control. “What we did to her?!” Cora Jones spluttered, clearly appalled and faintly trembling in her righteous anger. “It was she who took our sweet angel from us. If we had kept Rose away from her… If she hadn’t crept out to meet that vagabond child…. Rose would still be here!”

Killian had heard this argument many times, yet the unfairness of it never ceased to stoke his own temper. Fighting to remain calm, he tried to reason with his mother, to speak in a tone that still remained civil - tightly wound as it was and on the knife’s edge of tipping over. “You know as well as I do that Ms. Swan is not Rose’s killer. There was never any chance of that. She was thirteen years old, still a child just like Rose, and Rose was her only friend in the world. She was as devastated as we were.”

Cora could not have appeared any more injured or insulted if he had drawn back his hand to strike her. “No one has suffered as we have,” she hissed, eyes flashing dangerously, “certainly not that little she-devil! How dare you even suggest it?” She took a seething step closer, appearing as taken by emotion as Killian had seen her through the smooth, proper mask in years. “You mark my words, Killian,” she continued distinctly, eyes boring into him like pinpricks through his skin, “you may have control of this family’s land, the business, all the executive decisions your father left to you as intended, but I do not condone you allowing that woman to live on our property. Not even for a second, do you hear me? There is something not right about her - always has been - and you will live to regret letting her back into our world. Rose must be rolling over in her grave at the very thought - “

Flinching away so abruptly that his mother’s words were cut off and they both stood, breathing harshly in the horrible silence, Killian finally shook his head sadly and broke eye contact. He turned to leave, at last seeing with regrettable finality that Cora Jones would never change her mind, not for anyone or anything, no matter how much time passed. At the door, he looked back at her, his eyes betraying the strange mix of pity and bitterness she had stirred up in him anew. “You’re the one who should feel regret. Rose was good and kind, the best of us all. It would break her heart to know you’ve spent all these years holding a grudge and nurturing hatred against the person she considered another sister. I am finally thinking about what Rose would have wanted. Then maybe we can all let her rest in peace.”

That final admonition voiced, Killian was out the door in the next instant, letting it slam behind him exactly as he had been reprimanded against all his life. Even as one part of him cringed, he also felt a thrill of petty satisfaction too, knowing it made Cora crazy for such noisy outward shows of temper and bad breeding to be on display. Hurrying down the wide front steps to his truck, Killian gripped his keys in hand tightly, not at all sure where he was going, only that any place seemed preferable at that moment.

His cell went off, just as he reached the driver’s side door. Fishing it out as he settled into his seat, Killian pulled the door closed behind him and answered to find Graham on the other end of the line. Too relieved to turn his energy to something - anything - else but the argument he had left behind, Killian didn’t dwell long on why Graham sounded out of breath, cagey, and awkward as he explained how he had planned to meet Emma at the end of the work day, take her to dinner, and then go with her out to the cabin and help her make sure she at least had enough unpacking done to settle in there for the night. It turned out something had come up, and would Killian mind going to meet Emma instead?

While a part of him wasn’t at all sure how fond Emma would be of the development, he couldn’t deny the way his insides leapt at the opportunity to see Emma Swan again and spend some more time with her. Especially if it kept him away from the lit powder keg his home had just become.

“Not sure how Emma’s going to feel about that,” Killian quipped to his buddy lightly, “but I’ll do it. I’m heading her way right now.”

Graham’s relieved thanks made Killian smile as they said goodbye, wondering vaguely what had his friend all tangled up in knots, but he couldn’t dwell on it long. What almost felt like happy anticipation was creeping up on him, and whatever else might be pressing on him, Killian was simply glad to have an excuse to be near Emma Swan.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Some three hours later, Killian’s arms and back ached from lifting heavy boxes and moving them around to various counters and display tables for unpacking, his cheeks ached from grinning and laughing like he hadn’t done in ages, and he knew his eyes must look a bit dazed, mesmerized in Emma’s presence as she breathed some sort of magic into the air around her and onto him, bringing the previously empty and nondescript space to life. She didn’t seem to keep much of the warmth and humor for herself, however, Killian noted painfully, but it was easily felt standing next to her, and his fingers itched to grasp her, to pull her in and hold her tight, give back to her some of the warmth he had felt since he’d walked into her new little shop - particularly welcome after the chill of his encounters with his own family just before he’d arrived.

Thankfully, Emma hadn’t seemed averse to his visit and offer of help, to be followed by dinner in his friend’s stead. She was possibly a little hesitant and uncertain of why he wanted to help out and spend time with her, but it did his conscience good to see that she seemed willing to at least see how the evening went.

After the initial bit of awkwardness upon his arrival, Killian had assured Emma that she should put him to work. Once she had done so, they’d had their hands full and the conversation had begun to flow between them. She was incredibly knowledgeable - not that Killian was surprised, she had always been smart and eager to learn, one of many things she and Rose had shared in common - but he’d never been able to hear her really speak unabashedly about something she loved. Not only did she have an engaging and eclectic collection of art and photography by several known artists, but she also had numerous pieces of her own photography available for purchase as well. When Emma began talking about how she had captured some of the shots, and what she hoped they conveyed, Killian simply couldn’t look away from her features that had come to life with enthusiasm, her eyes alight. It was enchanting; he could think of no other word for it. His lips curved upward irresistibly, without his really even noticing it until she paused, cocking her head curiously before asking, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Startling from the reverie he’d slipped into on the rise and fall of her words, Killian smiled back at her, shaking his head slowly in amazement. “Just marveling at you, honestly. You’re brilliant, Emma.”

“Hardly,” she retorted, making a dismissive noise and waving off his praise, though the pleased blush on her cheeks unmistakably belied her words.

“No, truly… You’ve got a real gift.”

Emma shrugged noncommittally, but didn’t argue with him further, instead she merely studied the photograph on the countertop in front of her, matted but still in need of framing. A wry, wistful tone slipped into her voice as she spoke then, more quietly than she had before, “Well, that’s at least one instance when my added sight is a pleasant benefit.”

Killian’s eyes widened, his attention even more fully captured than it had been, curious as to what she might say next. Emma rarely - if ever - offered to comment on her visions and the things she knew because of them voluntarily. He bit his lip to keep from speaking, from verbally nudging her to continue. Instead he watched, waiting hopefully, breath held, for her to do so if she chose.

Looking up, Emma caught his eyes, but the soul-searching expression pierced right through his chest. “It’s as if the person or animal or place in front of the camera tells me the story it wants to share.” Shaking her head helplessly after that admission, she chuckled at herself before adding, “Yeah, I know that sounds completely crazy.”

“Not at all, Swan,” he breathes, the nickname sliding from his lips naturally and without thought, neither of them reacting to it - almost as if he had never called her anything else. “It’s just like I said… amazing.”

For several minutes, no more words were spoken, the quiet stretching comfortably between them as the shadows of evening lengthened outside the big front window. It was nearly seven-thirty, well past time for dinner, and they both laughed when his stomach rumbled loudly, breaking the spell between them. “What say you, Swan? Time to find some sustenance?”

Eyes glimmering with a mysterious sort of humor, she hedged, “Would you be willing to take a rain check? It’s been a packed couple of days, and I’m hoping to open in a couple more. I’m exhausted, and really just need to make it an early night.”

Considering her words for a moment, Killian studied her before acquiescing, hoping she wasn’t putting him off when it felt like they’d gotten so much closer over the course of the evening. “Fair enough,” he assented before playfully adding, “but I’ll hold you to that rain check. Unless you’re afraid of finding me even more irresistible after a few libations.” He waggled his heavy dark brows at her devilishly until Emma was laughing out loud at his antics.

Only a few minutes later they were ready to go, Emma locking the door of her shop behind them and Killian following her gallantly to her VW. Turning to look up at him where they stood facing each other on the sidewalk, Emma added, “I really would be glad to go to dinner another time, Killian. It’s been a nice evening, and - to be blunt - I could use a few friends. Just so we’re clear that’s all it is.”

Killian felt a tightening in his chest at her proclamation, disappointment clenching in his gut and alerting him that he had already allowed himself to want so much more. “You’ve already decided that, have you?” he responded, fighting to keep his voice light. 

She held his gaze, expression mournful, knowing, and more than a little haunted. “It’s for the best really. Trust me on that. You don’t want to get too close to me. Eventually, I’m too much for anyone to deal with. It gets messy. I’m just sparing us both a lot of hurt in the long run.”

He hummed low in his throat, the deep vibration of the sound almost physically palpable to her as he leaned closer, gauging her reaction with a knowing glimmer in his eye. “You say that now, Swan. And that’s fine, I can be incredibly patient. But I see that there could be so much more between us.”

“Do you indeed?” she queried in an equally teasing measure, his response allowing her to drop the wary seriousness she had spoken with before and banter back with him in return, almost irresistibly.

“Have a gander for yourself if you doubt me,” he offered, holding her gaze, an open expression seeming to lay himself bare before her. “I am an open book to you… just as you are to me.”

Emma caught her breath, helpless but to stare back into his eyes as he asked. Guard down, walls lowered, there was a flash behind her eyes of bare limbs moving in unison, heavy pants of exertion, whispered endearments in a familiar timbre, and a shattered cry of completion in a voice sounding much like her own. 

Blinking free and pulling away with a gasp, she knew what she’d seen, and flushed from the roots of her hair outward. “What was that?” she whispered, almost to herself, even as she knew exactly what she had witnessed. Never had she experienced such a glimpse of something so pleasurable it left her quivering with unquenched need.

“I think you know,” Killian replied with a roguish smirk, though his voice was gentle, almost hiding the slight hurt that swam in the crystal blue of his eyes at the distance she still tried to keep between them. “Possibly the dessert we could enjoy if you let a nice dinner for us progress to its natural conclusion?”

Nodding, she regained her equilibrium at last and reached out to pat him on the shoulder with a sort of playful camaraderie. “Hmm… well, maybe you’d better keep those thoughts to yourself for now,” she taunted. Still, as she settled into the driver’s seat and waved to him while backing away from the curb and pulling onto the street, Killian could see a deep and fragile longing behind her practical nonchalance. She wanted, just as he did; that closeness and heat and belonging, but she wouldn’t allow it for herself. She didn’t trust that anything good could last - and why would she, after all that she had survived already? Possibly she had waited so long to be loved, to feel wanted, that when it was placed before her, she denied what was being offered. While that might have worked for most, he wasn’t going to stay at a careful distance. Not when he could see the loneliness and yearning in her, as clearly as he could see it in his own mirror each morning. He would keep coming back, closer and closer each time, until maybe they could both find what they had been living without for so long.

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[tatiablack]

THE BLACK VOLUME OF THE DEAD

CHAPTER ONE

LONDON

Remus nervously tapped his foot as he scanned the crowded dance floor of Pandemonium. A club notorious for hosting all manner of Downworld revelries and occasionally attracting clueless mundanes dabbling in the supernatural. So long as the Accords were upheld and no mundanes came to harm, it seemed all was fair game. As a Nephilim, it was their duty to maintain the peace between Downworlders and Mundanes. But here they were, James and Sirius beside him, on an unapproved mission to track down a rogue demon. The rooftop of the popular club was filled with pulsing music and neon lights, but Remus couldn't shake off the feeling that this was a terrible idea.

"Found him," James suddenly exclaimed, snapping Remus out of his thoughts. He followed James' gaze to a figure with blue hair and shimmering skin making their way into the club without any trouble from the bouncer after all he looked no different than the hundreds of people here dressed as vampires and werewolves, it was Halloween after all. It had to be the Ravener demon they were looking for.

Ravener demons are sinister creatures known for their shapeshifting abilities and insatiable hunger for human flesh. These malevolent beings are cunning hunters, capable of assuming various forms to deceive and ambush their prey.

"We don't have permission for this, we could get in trouble!" Remus argued, but James just laughed.

Remus was supposed to keep an eye on these two idiots till The potters came back from Idres. There has been tension in the Downworld the past couple of months with the renewal of the accords approaching, The Clave seems to be ..well Remus wants to say tense but the Clave is always tense. But when they got a tip that there had been 3 mundane killings in the past week, Sirius and James decided that they simply couldn’t just wait for orders, and Remus Agreed, although he’d never admit it.

"We're Nephilim, Moony. We make our own rules," Sirius chimed in with a mischievous smirk.

Remus sighed as he realized he was outnumbered once again. They were already caught up in the excitement of the hunt, and there was no stopping them now. As much as he hated to admit it, Sirius had a point – demons needed to be dealt with immediately before they caused harm.

"Time to party," Sirius declared with a grin as they made their way into the club, ready to take down the Ravener demon before anyone else got hurt.

The trio weaved through the pulsing crowd, their movements calculated and synchronized as they made their way towards their target. The thumping bass pounded in Remus' chest, adding a layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere of the club. As they drew closer, Remus couldn't help but notice how the other club-goers seemed to instinctively move out of the way, creating a clear path for the Ravener demon they were after.

Its electric blue hair stood out even under the neon lights, giving it an otherworldly aura. But beneath its striking appearance lurked a dangerous energy that sent a shiver down Remus' spine.

“So what's the plan then, we can’t just attack it here in the middle of the dance floor. It will attract too much attention,” Remus Siad,

“Easy distraction, we lure it out,” Siris suggested

“Let me guess you wanna be the bait?” Remus raised an eyebrow, knowing Sirius's penchant for risky gambits

Sirius just smirked. Of course he is, Remus thought. He never could understand how Sirius liked to gamble with his life all the time, sleeping with Faeries, and Vampires, even though they should not be dealing with Downworlders to begin with, he never had the urge to follow rules anyway.

“May I ask how are you planning on doing that?” James asked,

“Watch and learn boys, even demons can’t resist my charm,” Sirius gave Remus a sly wink before he disappeared into the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor.

“He’s gonna be fine Moony,” James said

Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away from the Ravenor demon, its form adorned with mesmerizing blue hair. Beauty, even in the guise of a demon, captivated him. His mind drifted to the intricate art of shapeshifting, a concept that had always intrigued him deeply. The notion of being able to transform into anything or anyone stirred a longing within him, especially during moments of solitude when his inner turmoil became deafening. Yet, amidst his yearning, a nagging question lingered: If he could alter his external appearance, would it mend the darkness gnawing at his core, or would the emptiness within persist?

“A demon is a demon no matter how it looks”

Shaking off the tumult of his thoughts, Sirius refocused on the task at hand. It was time to charm a demon.

The pounding rhythm of the music enveloped Sirius as he moved with fluid grace on the dance floor, his body swaying in sync with the pulsating beat. Every step was a calculated dance, a seductive invitation to the Ravenor demon who watched him from the shadows. Sirius's movements were a language of their own, a silent promise of pleasure and danger intertwined.

Sirius glanced back at the bar where he had left Remus and James. James, ever the charmer, was surrounded by a group of humans in extravagant fairy costumes. Sirius couldn't help but wonder if one of them was an actual fairy or just a mundane dressed-up. But his attention quickly shifted as his gaze met Remus's across the room.

Remus's intense focus on him sent shivers down Sirius's spine. He was addicted to that look, which is why he threw himself into any situation that would draw Remus's attention to him. It wasn't easy to capture Remus's attention; Sirius still remembered how uninterested and aloof he seemed when they first met. As a Black, Sirius wasn't used to someone not being immediately drawn to his charm. He envied Remus's love for books, always seen with one in hand. And his painting room, off-limits to everyone but Remus. Sirius longed to be a part of Remus's world in some way. After many failed attempts, he discovered that putting himself in danger seemed to do the trick.

As he drew closer to the demon, Sirius's gaze locked onto its piercing eyes, a challenge and an invitation all in one. The demon's lips curved into a sly smile, mirroring Sirius's own playful smirk. They circled each other like predators in a mesmerizing dance, the tension crackling between them palpable even amidst the chaos of the club.

"Care to join me?" Sirius purred, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down the demon's spine.

The demon's response was a sultry laugh, a melodic sound that echoed in the dimly lit space. "I'm already enjoying the show, darling. But perhaps I could be persuaded to partake in a more private performance."

Sirius's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Lead the way, then."

As they stepped out into the cool night air, the demon's demeanor shifted, its grip tightening around Sirius's waist as it cornered him against the wall. It was then, in the dim light outside the club, that the demon's gaze fell upon black and appeared as if burned into Sirius's neck—a celestial rune, unseen amidst the club's darkness.

The demon recoiled its grotesque features contorting in shock and disgust. "Nephilim!" it hissed, recoiling further as if burned by the mere presence of Sirius. With a mischievous smirk, he quipped, "Oops."

The demon lunged forward in a rage, but before it could reach Sirius, an arrow pierced its shoulder and sent it stumbling back with a cry of pain. In the distraction, Sirius expertly wielded his whip and tackled the creature to the ground.

"What's the hurry? I thought we were just getting started," Sirius taunted with an unwavering smirk as he stood victorious over the fallen demon.

The air was thick and tense as the three Shadowhunters, James, Remus, and Sirius, stood in a triangle formation facing off against the Ravener demon at the backdoor of Pandemonium. The moonlight cast eerie shadows across the cobblestones, illuminating the trio and their demonic adversary locked in a deadly standoff.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at the large, imposing demon in front of him.

“What brings an ugly fucker like you here?” Sirius asked, his black leather jacket creaking as he crossed his arms.

The demon sneered and spat on Sirius's foot in disgust.

Sirius chuckled and put a hand over his heart. “Oh, you wound me.” he said sarcastically “I thought we liked each other.”

James rolled his eyes at Sirius's flirting and interjected, "Stop trying to charm the demon, Sirius."

"But he's such a handsome devil," Sirius smirked, emphasizing the word 'handsome.'

Ignoring Sirius's comment, Remus stepped forward and addressed the demon directly. "I assume you're not too pleased that your plans were interrupted," he said calmly.

The demon growled in response, but Remus continued undaunted. "Well, I'll make this quick for you." He drew out his seraph blade from its sheath. The demon's red eyes widened in fear as it recognized the weapon meant to harm creatures like itself.

"I have done nothing wrong." the demon hissed, its voice dripping with venom.

Sirius's thin lips curled into a disdainful smirk.

"Your very existence is wrong," he retorted, his words ringing out like shards of glass through the darkness. Remus couldn't help but flinch at the harshness in Sirius's tone, so different from the playful banter they often shared.

The demon winced in pain as Sirius's leather whip tightened around its form, eliciting a guttural growl of protest. "I was summoned," it confessed, its voice strained with agony.

The demon sneered, its blood-red eyes scanning the trio with malicious intent. Its slimy skin was a sickly shade of green and reeked of sulfur.

"I was summoned by one of you," it hissed,

James's hand instinctively tightened around his seraph blade, ready to strike at any moment.

"Shadowhunter summoning a Ravener demon?" James asked

Remus and Sirius shared a worried glance, knowing the repercussions if this were true.

"Hypothetically, if that were true," Remus began, "a Shadowhunter could only achieve that through forbidden rituals or by wielding dark magic."

"Which is strictly forbidden," Sirius interjected, his grip on his whip tightening as he glared at the demon.

"But they could do it with the help of a warlock," Remus added solemnly.

The trio exchanged alarmed looks at this revelation. Why would a Shadowhunter turn to such dark practices?

" for what?" James demanded, his voice laced with disbelief.

Sirius scoffed at the idea. "Who would be foolish enough to seek help from a warlock without the permission of the Clave, summoning a demon of all things? Its against the accords anyway"

The demon struggled to form coherent words, its breaths coming in ragged gasps as Sirius tightened his hold on the whip. Its bloodshot eyes darted around frantically before finally managing to choke out a name: "Riddle."

A chill ran down Remus's spine at the mention of the name. Riddle was a Rogue Shadowhunter who had been presumed dead for 10 years. His mastery of dark magic and disdain for the Accords were well-known among their world.

Sirius let out an incredulous laugh. "Not this again! Every time we capture one of you slimy fuckers, you claim Riddle is behind it all. He's dead, practically your neighbor!"

To their horror, the demon wheezed out a laugh in response, its eyes glinting with malice. "Death is not the end for those who dabble in darkness," it rasped, sending shivers down their spines.

Sirius raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Wow, I had no idea demons could be so eloquent. How interesting." He turned to Remus and James with a smirk. "Can we send it back to hell now?"

"Mock me all you want, but it's true. Riddle has returned," the demon confessed with a wheezy breath.

Remus furrowed his brow in confusion. What does that even mean? he thought to himself. How is that even possible? Riddle was supposed to be dead, and his followers were either deceased or imprisoned by the Clave. But as Remus's thoughts were interrupted by the chaos around him, he looked over to see Sirius strangling the demon with his whip, eyes filled with unbridled rage.

"He's coming back for his followers," the demon cackled, blood dripping from its lips. "He's back and he will kill you all." Its laughter bordered on madness. "Except maybe you," it said to Sirius, a twisted smirk on its face. "After all, your father was a faithful follower of his. How is he by the way? rotting still in that prison of yours? Can’t believe your people did not kill him, I wonder why"

Sirius stood rooted to the spot, his body quivering with a tumultuous blend of apprehension and rage. The demon's piercing red eyes bore into him with a ferocity that sent shivers down his spine. In a fleeting moment of distraction, the demon wriggled free from his grasp, its slick, scaly skin slipping through his fingers like water. With a guttural snarl, it lunged at Sirius with a vicious onslaught of claws and teeth, its breath reeking of sulfur and decay.

But Sirius was ready, deflecting each attack with swift and precise movements. James stood by his side, unsheathing his own Seraph blade with lightning speed to join in the fight. Remus notched an arrow in his bow, ready to aim. The demon slipped from Sirius's grasp and made a move towards Remus. With a steely resolve, Remus aimed at the infernal creature, his arrow trained on its beating heart. But before he could release it, Sirius's whip wrapped around the demon’s neck, coiling tightly and constricting its movements. With a grunt of exertion, Sirius dragged the thrashing demon to the ground, his grip unyielding and merciless.

Seizing the opportunity, James pounced upon the writhing demon, pinning it down with all his might as he drove his Seraph blade deep into its chest with a swift, decisive strike. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the night as the demon writhed in agony, its body crumbling to ash as the flames of destruction consumed it. The stench of burning flesh and sulfur fill the air. Exhausted but victorious, the trio breathed a sigh of relief as they surveyed the destruction around them.

——————-

You can find the full chapter on TatiaBlack 🙌🏼

Make sure to like and repost 🙏🏻🫶🏻 this is my first time writing fanfic ever, please know that English isn’t my first language so if there’s anything weird just be kind 😭💕

[nekoannie-chan]

Stargazing love

Title: “Stargazing love”

Ship: Crystal Amaquelin X Pietro Maximoff (Love).

Word count: 542 words.

Rating: Teen.

Square: I3 “Lying in a field stargazing”.

Summary: A special starry night for Pietro and Crystal.

Warnings/Tags: Stargazing, walking in the woods, love declaration, fluff.

A/N: This is my entry to @marvelrarepairbingo​  @marvelrarepairs​ MarvelRarePair Bingo Round 2 2023. Annie MRP-066.

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

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Tags: @sinceimetyou​  @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad​ @navybrat817​ @angrythingstarlight​ @shield-agent78​ @charmed-asylum​ @caplanbuckybarnes​  @sapphire-rogers​ @nana1000night​ @talia-rumlow @writingshae​ @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga​ @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare​ @endlesstwanted  @chemtrails-club​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @here4thefanfics​ @theestorm​ @patzammit @kmc1989

Pietro and Crystal were lying in the field, looking up at the sky. The night was cloudless, and the stars were shining as beautifully as they had ever seen them. They had been out there for hours, just enjoying each other's company, talking and laughing, and watching the stars through the night.

Crystal slipped her arm through Pietro's and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt at peace here, away from the hustle and bustle of life on Attilan, away from the worries that weighed on her mind. Pietro also seemed calmer, free from the worries and expectations of the world he came from. Occasionally, they laughed out loud at Lockjaw's cartwheels.

For a while, the two just stared up at the starry night sky, absorbed in their own thoughts, until Pietro finally broke the silence.

"Do you ever think about the future? "he asked. Crystal was silent for a few minutes, thoughtful, then nodded.

"Sometimes," she said suddenly. "But mostly I think about the stars and how, through immortal time, they keep burning, no matter what we do, no matter what. It's as if they remind us that there is something more out there for us, something more than our little and insignificant lives."

Pietro smiled. He gazed up at the stars and then at Crystal, feeling warmth in his heart. He knew that whatever happened in the future, he wanted to be with her.

They lay there for a while longer until Crystal spoke again.

"We should go home," she commented.

Pietro nodded, and they got up, brushing the grass off their clothes. With a last look at the stars, they started walking hand in hand towards the path that would take them to the top of the mountain.

As they made their way deeper into the forest, as it was the only way back, the full moon illuminated their path. Pietro couldn't help but feel the electricity between them as if the energy of the stars had been transferred to them. Crystal squeezed his hand tightly, and Pietro stopped in his tracks. He turned to her and looked into her eyes, lost in the glow of the moonlight. For a moment, Pietro thought that perhaps this was the right time to tell her his true feelings.

However, Crystal spoke first, breaking the spell of the moment.

"Pietro, I have something to tell you," she said in a trembling voice. Pietro frowned, worried about what she was going to tell him.

"What is it, Crystal?" Pietro asked, trying to calm her down.

Crystal took a deep breath before speaking. But before she could say anything, she changed her mind, stepped forward, and kissed him passionately. Pietro responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her and deepening the kiss. The electricity she had felt earlier intensified, making her skin burn and her heart beat at a frantic pace.

Finally, they broke apart, panting, and their lips swollen. Crystal smiled and stroked his cheek tenderly.

"You don't need to say anything, Pietro. I feel the same way."

Pietro was overwhelmed with emotion and happiness. He took her hand again and pulled her to him to embrace her.

"I can't imagine my life without you, Crystal. I want to be with you forever."

[leonscape]

Ikemen Prince AU Series

Part 8, Leon Dompteur. Chapter 8, "Peace."

Irene is a feminine name of Greek origin that means “peace.” It is derived from the Greek word "eirēnē" of the same meaning.

Word count: 1217 | Masterlist

Gray clouds filled the sky, draping a gloomy atmosphere onto the kingdom. Irene and Priscilla sat in silence as the carriage swayed. The maid seemed entranced by the scenery passing by while Irene thought about the excitement in her father’s eyes. He encouraged her to pursue the prince and hastily sent her on her way to the palace. Her father has never looked that way before. For the first time since she met him, he sounded pleased. At some point, Irene convinced herself that what she was doing would make him proud. After breaking off an important engagement of many years, she wouldn’t want to bring shame. She rubbed her fingers in her palms. The motion was fluid and effortless with the accumulated sweat that was slowly building up. Her mind was a whirlpool, unable to grasp onto a single thought, drowning in her memories and fantasies. 

“My lady? Are you all right?” Priscilla asked. ‘You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled in response. 

The carriage came to a steady stop. Irene wiped her clammy hands on the fabric of her skirt and the door opened. The air was crisp and the clouds darkened as the wind picked up. The pit in her stomach grew as servants received her and led her into the palace.

Irene didn’t get far into the palace. She called out to the servant, “Wait.” The group stopped in their tracks.

“What’s wrong?” Priscilla questioned. 

“This was a bad idea,” she said to the maid, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Why not? Isn’t this something you want?” 

“I can’t do this,” Irene repeated. She headed back to where she came from and her maid followed after her. Without explanation, they both boarded the carriage and they were off again. The clouds released their downpour and so did Irene. 

Priscilla hesitated before speaking up, “What happened back there?”

“I’m stuck,” she sobbed, “I’m stuck as this forever.”

“What do you mean stuck? You have a great opportunity in front of you,” the maid said. 

Irene shook her head. “I’m supposed to be loyal. The Irene everyone knows is loyal and would never go back on her word. She would never betray her family, the people closest to her.”

The maid didn’t respond. She only bowed her head in shame. “You’re not stuck,” Priscilla told her. 

“You’re the one who taught me those things! My guidebook to being Irene. My bible,” Irene sniffled. Seeing her cry made Priscilla tear up too. 

“But it’s not like that anymore! At least it doesn’t have to be,” she said with hope. 

“Can you honestly say that this is something she would do? It’s just too much, especially with the news that she’s no longer engaged to Vincent.”

“Things are different now, values change, and unexpected things happen,” Priscilla said.

“But everyone made sure that nothing would be different,” she cried.

Priscilla was at a loss for words. Her brows furrowed as she wracked her brain. “I'm sorry,” was all that came out of her mouth. “I’m so sorry we put you through this. And no, that isn’t something Irene would do.”

“So I’ve failed again,” she cried harder.

Priscilla put a hand on one of Irene’s balled up fists. “I don’t think you’ve failed at all. You did exactly what you were meant to do. You brought happiness to all of us. When we couldn’t handle her passing, you brought peace. A peace just like Irene did.” 

“She must have been a really amazing person.” 

“Yes, she was. But so are you, Anastasia.”

Her eyes sparkled at the mention of her birth name. “Priscilla…”

“We really needed you, and I’m glad we had you. But now we must close that chapter. You aren’t her, you’re you. You obviously have different paths in life; hers already ended, but you’ve still got so much more. So we mustn’t stray from your path.” 

“And you think that being with Leon is the path I’m supposed to take?”

“Absolutely. Otherwise, you wouldn’t even be here right now,” Priscilla said, sounding so sure of herself. “There are certain things you shouldn’t and can’t walk away from.” 

The knock at the door interrupted his routine. “Please excuse the interruption,” a servant announced. “Prince Leon, a woman has requested an audience with you.”

“A woman? How lucky. I would love to have women make requests to see me,” Jin sighed as he shoved a lollipop into his mouth. 

“I thought they already did,” Yves mumbled. 

Leon stood up and mindlessly walked out of the office. He didn’t give it much thought until he saw Clavis with the largest grin on his face. “You took so long to get here, your mistress left!”

“What are you talking about? What mistress?” Leon knit his brows together and Clavis laughed. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all about your secret lover! Oh well, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s on her way back home now.” Clavis looked out the window and Leon followed his gaze. The rain angrily tapped against the glass in a heavy downpour. 

“Why did she leave?” Leon asked.

“I honestly don’t know. She suddenly turned around and stormed off.” Clavis shrugged. “She left only a few minutes ago, so if you’re quick enough you might catch her.” Without a second thought or a moment's hesitation, Leon dashed off out into the rain. Clavis stood by himself, watching Leon take off on horseback. A small smile played on his lips. “Hahaha! Looks like I’ve won.”

Priscilla looked out the window. She suddenly gasped, “Uh, speaking of paths, I think yours is catching up to us.”

Irene peered out the window as well. Leon was steadily approaching. He and his horse were drenched and the rain showed no signs of easing up. She planted her face in the palms of her hands, her cheeks turning a new shade of embarrassed red. 

The carriage stopped. Irene joined Leon in his rain bath and she shouted over the rain, “Are you crazy?” 

“I might be,” he laughed as he dismounted his horse. “You wanted to see me?”

“Y-yeah,” she stuttered. 

“Well I’m here now,” he smiled, ignoring the rain like it wasn’t even there. 

“I don’t even know what I was going to say to you,” she admitted. 

“Is it safe to assume you like me?” Leon asked bluntly. She nodded silently. “I like you too.” 

The couple shared a look of understanding. The rain soaked through their clothes, engulfing them in a cold embrace. Their hair melted, molding to the shape of their faces. “So what do we do now?” she asked. 

He paused, wearing a thoughtful look on his face. But soon it turned into a mischievous smirk. “Take my hand, and your whole world is gonna change forever. But the choice is yours,” Leon said. He extended his hand out to her and her face lit up with a smile. She placed her hand in his. In the next moment, Leon was helping her up onto the horse, and before Priscilla could say anything, the couple sprinted off. 

“Hey God? When is it my turn?” Priscilla asked aloud.

[musicarenagh]

Out of Hiatus, Into Greatness: EnnieLoud’s 'Out of Danger EnnieLoud is a trip-hop band from London, and this year they are back with the release of their single “Out of Danger” which is an amazing and meaningful comeback. On this track, which was written by the band’s frontwoman Cassandra Raffaele, the band manages to combine effortlessly the trip-hop and the electronic music, creating a chillingly beautiful atmosphere. "'Out of Danger' is a minimalistic masterpiece which is a mix of gentle textures, noisy percussion, and broad effects, leading to an engrossing sound experience. Raffaele's soulfully delivered lyrics are very important and make you feel that you are not alone; he does a great job with cathartic performance that is at the same time intimate and powerful. In this song, lyrics explain the subtle connections between lovers and the feeling of being out of danger after being close to uncertainty emotions. The music's ambient sound, together with Raffaele's expressive voice, offers a song that will bring peace of mind while touching sensitive emotions. The single is a manifestation of a free-creative Ennieloud’s who connects with their fans in a unique way. Such music project is not only their comeback but also, symbolize their status as innovators of the modern alt-soul and trip-hop genre. It is a track that is designed to leave a mark deep within the heart of the listeners, thus making them looking forward to the audio exploration of the duo in their journey of music. In this exclusive interview, we will find out EnnieLoud's inspirations, their creative process, and the path to the creation of " Out of Danger. " We will also talk about the artist behind the music and what the future holds for EnnieLoud'. Listen to Out Of Danger below https://open.spotify.com/track/4RVJTHBn6FTGJr8QsXTReK Follow EnnieLoud on Twitter Spotify Soundcloud Youtube Instagram Facebook What is your stage name Ennieloud Is there a story behind your stage name? Yes there is. Cassandra: It all started by me. I had already a solo project but I was looking for something different. I had so much music inside me that just wanted to come out and make some noise. I wanted to express certain sounds, atmospheres, and dimensions that I hadn't been able to before. And that's where the "loud" part comes from - that desire to make some noise and let it all out. And with the help of the amazing guys in the band, I was able to bring that "noise" to life. And that's how ENNIELOUD came to be. Where do you find inspiration? We got artists from all different backgrounds, coming together and vibing off each other's styles and inspirations. I mean, we've got electro beats represented by BeeOff mixing with my world full of blues and soul. Lauryn Hill, Aretha Franklin are my muses as well as Goldfrapp, but I am crazy for Moby and the UK trip hop scene. Our inspiration sounds topped off with some pretty cool chilled atmosphere and electro-escape guitars, that’s Ross part. What was the role of music in the early years of your life? Cassandra: Music is my life, ever since I was born, it has been always a part of me. My toys were my dad’s instruments. I feel music like something so familiar. Now, I feel it like an anatomic part of me. I cannot exclude her from what I am. [caption id="attachment_55460" align="alignnone" width="2000"] Music is my life, ever since I was born, it has been always a part of me. My toys were my dad’s instruments[/caption] Are you from a musical or artistic family? Cassandra: Yes I am. My dad is a drummer and composer. I have grown watching him playing on the stages and recording session in the studios. Who inspired you to be a part of the music industry? We have met a lot of people and artists who inspired us, but the London music scene ispired us above all. Cassandra: Just being in that environment, surrounded by other talented artists, constantly exposed to different sounds and styles of music, has been such a source of inspiration for us.

It's like a big melting pot of creativity and we always come out feeling re-energized and re-inspired. But more than that, it's the community aspect that really inspires us. We love being able to collaborate with other musicians, share our love for music, and push each other to be better. It's all about living and breathing music together. Furthermore, one of the most important people has been Chris, from The Lost in the manor. He gave us a lot of suggestions and taught us how to better what we did and we do with music. How did you learn to sing/write/to play? Cassandra: It’s something natural. I studied music anyway and I have learnt playing instruments to express what come easily from the deep part of me. Beeoff studied at the Sae Institute of London, he is a sound engineer, Ross studied music, guitar, drum and bass. He is also a music teacher. How could you describe your music? it’s a mix : alt soul and trip hop, with some teardrops of bluesy and jazzy mood. That’s Cassandra’s fault. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jAoD-Fkz9nQ&list=PLHE0C3oPifSE04wVfvtwS6LnBasMoy0mg Describe your creative process. It is various. Sometimes, we start from a loop, or from a verse. About Out of danger, it all started with a sick loop our guitarist came up with. We couldn’t get it out of our heads and knew we had to build a song around it. So, we took that loop and added some dope synth on top of it. Then, the lyrics. Cassandra wrote this one on the fly, from the heart. What is your main inspiration? A lots, musically you know, we are a band of 3 people with different backgrounds as told you. Cassandra: personally, life and people stories are the main sources of my inspiration on my songs. What musician do you admire most and why? We love St Vincent, Alison Goldfrapp, Lauryn Hill (iconic) and Brittany from Alabam Shakes,Celeste, as well the electronic music scene from Berlin. Did your style evolve since the beginning of your career? Yes, it evolved, I mean, it is something peculiar for a musician. Cassandra: Like biology, the evolution is a natural process you can apply to everything, if you want to resist against the extinction. Who do you see as your main competitor? BeeOff: We do not feel music as a competition, but as an opportunity to share ideas, art. What are your interests outside of music? Ross: I am a basket coach; Cassandra: I love street dancing, BeeOff: trekking If it wasn't a music career, what would you be doing? We don’t know. Cassandra: I would need to live another life to answer you, so personally I do not know. Usually, I do not think what I would be doing, but I prefer to think what I am doing. What is the biggest problem you have encountered in the journey of music? Reaching people. https://open.spotify.com/artist/3doeOLCLD9sPsmeQolWCZt?si=LUVd2DE9TdG7CnCXy_3M5Q If you could change one thing in the music industry, what would it be? It is really complex to give you an answer because the music industry is complex too, it changes contantly. I can tell you what I hope never will be changing: the fire of creativity, curiosity for exploring new sounds, love for producing art, against the superficiality of the algorithmsWhy did you choose this as the title of this project? If you look at the world now, we are definitely not “out of danger”, considering wars, atomic war threat. So, our song is without doubt, a message of hope. Love will care people. What are your plans for the coming months? Producing and sharing music. Trying to reach new people with our music. Do you have any artistic collaboration plans Yes, we have it. Stay tuned! What message would you like to give to your fans? This song is our comeback and we wanted it to be raw and honest. We wanted to connect with you on a deeper level. Stay with us! Be part of the journey.

[laxyaklovesloz]

The Legend of Zelda: Real Courage | Chapter Twelve: Heated Words

After eating, Mori flew anxiously behind Lila as she stormed down the lonely mountain path. He couldn't get a single word through her ranting.

"I can't believe that jerk! Why did he set me up like that? Did he seriously think he could fight Volvagia? He's an idiot if he does! And he has the nerve to call me weak. I was sent on this mission by Lady Ganondra herself! I am not weak!"

"You shouldn't say that so loud."

"If I were weak she wouldn't send me on these quests, you said so yourself. I had to work hard to get her approval. At least, I think I have her approval. She doesn't really tell me about her plans."

"Seriously, you should shut up."

"I don't even know what she wants with this stuff. What good will new chainmail and gauntlets do? They don't even fit her! Unless they're for me. Why does she want me to get this stuff? Maybe something big's going to happen."

"Lila, shut up!"

"That must be it. She must have a plan. I wonder what my role will be—"

Mori flew right in Lila's face. "Stop talking."

Lila blinked and stopped in her tracks. "What—?"

"You can't go mouthing off about the chieftess’s plans, even if you don't know what they are," Mori chided in a hushed tone. Lila had never seen him so angry. "Anyone can hear you out here."

"We'd see anyone—"

"We have passed several bushes and crevices where someone can hide. Now, will you be quiet?"

Lila's heart pounded. How could she have not noticed? It was the same situation as last night, only this time she was the one revealing secrets. She looked around, searching for anyone. She didn't see people, but the shadows seemed to jump out at her. She started running down the mountain.

How can this day get any worse?

Finally, she made it to the bottom of the path. People were milling about the town, everything so peaceful and normal. The valley floor was filled with laughing and talking. The sight made Lila sick.

"Let's get back to the caves," she muttered to Mori. She wasn't going to take any more chances.

"I couldn't agree with you more."

Lila kept her head down, but her eyes darted around, keeping a look out for anyone suspicious. No one paid her any attention, even when she passed Ruggy's shack. When she got to the entrance to the mines, she leaned against the rock and sighed in relief.

"Keep moving," Mori urged. "We should get into the secret tunnel."

Lila nodded and followed him. She looked around one more time to make sure she wasn't followed then slipped into the darkness. Lila lit her torch and followed the path. This time she kept her eyes open for any mythical bomb flowers. She really hoped Zale was right about them because she wouldn't be able to continue if she didn't find any.

It wasn't long before she came to the crater left from her first explosion. There she turned right and entered the lava room. Monsters of all shapes and sizes had crawled their way back into the chamber. One of them noticed her walk in and charged.

Lila had her sword out in an instant. The two-legged creature raised its club, and she knocked it out of its hands. As it looked for its weapon, she slashed its head off. It fell into a pile of dust, alerting one of its buddies. This one blew a horn, and two new ones came to attack her.

"Watch out! He's calling for backup!"

"Yeah, I got it," Lila muttered. As the two bokoblins charged, she ran at them, but only to get close to the one with the horn. At the last second, she changed direction, slashing at one of the bokoblins in her wake. She didn't bother to see if the monster disappeared and instead went right for the ally caller. The monster jumped and ran in the other direction on its stubby legs. It was no match for Lila's momentum, and it also fell to her blade.

Adopting a defensive stance, she turned around to the last creature. It was charging at her with sword raised, leaving room for an easy attack. Lila shifted her feet slightly so she could swing her sword into the monster's side. The momentum of the beast's charge caused Lila's sword to slice it nearly in half. Like the others, it disappeared in a puff of dust.

Lila let the tip of her sword drop as she wiped the sweat from her forehead with her other hand. Now that it was safe, Mori chose to join her.

"Nice job," he chirped.

"No thanks to you."

"I warned you about the horn."

"I knew about it, weirdo. Not a help." She continued down the path, careful to avoid the lava flowing on her right. "But it's no different than any of my fights. You like to spout out useless facts I already know." The two of them arrived at a wall that looked as though it had been created by a rock slide. "Now the question is, which way do we go?"

"You seem to know everything. Why don't you figure it out?" Mori teased.

"Fine. I will." Lila promptly turned around to look for some clues. She noticed a few islands in the river of lava. By jumping from island to island, Lila could reach a protuberance that looked to have another pathway.

"That looks promising," she pointed out. Without waiting for a reply from the keesee, Lila carried out her plan. With a running start, she was able to jump on the islands to her destination. Perfect. Mori followed lazily.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

As Lila landed on the island, her foot sunk a little into a hole, and a door opened up in the wall. Inside the wall was a bomb, resting on a pile of leaves.

"I just confirmed the existence of Bomb Flowers," Lila gloated. She walked toward the flower, but the hole closed as soon as her foot left the hole. She ran forward, but it was too late. "Dang it! How am I supposed to get the bomb?"

"Maybe you should put a rock on the button," Mori suggested.

Lila got an idea. "Mori, come here for a second."

"What?" he asked without moving.

"Come look at the glyphs on this wall."

Slowly the keesee moved forward. "What's so special about glyphs?"

Before Mori could react, Lila snatched him out of the air and shoved him into the hole. He wriggled and shouted, "Hey!" but couldn't escape.

"Thanks for finally helping me," Lila teased, and then she snatched the bomb off from its bed of leaves. She stashed it in her bomb bag and walked back to Mori. Behind her, she heard a little sound and looked back to see the bomb flower growing another bomb.

"Hey, that's cool!" she said and took the new bomb as well.

"Are you going to let me out?" Mori complained.

"When my bag is full. Don't worry, it only holds ten bombs."

Mori grumbled incoherently just for the sake of grumbling. Once Lila had all ten bombs loaded in her pack, she finally released her companion. She then hopped back across the lava and to the weak-looking wall. This time Mori didn't follow her all the way.

In excited anticipation, Lila placed one of her new bombs in front of the wall and then lit it. She hurried back out of the blast radius and waited for the explosion.

There was a loud noise, a bright flash, and lots of dust. Once it cleared, Lila finally had a way to progress through the dungeon.

"Yes!" she cheered. "Let's keep moving."

"Alright, let's go then."

Lila peered through the opening to find more lava. To the right, the river of lava fell into a chasm and continued throughout the room. Islands stood much higher than in the previous room, and a large bridge was suspended above her about one floor up.

"Which way next?" Lila asked.

"Up."

"How?"

"You'll have to explore a little more, won't you."

Lila sighed, tired of arguing with Mori. "Okay, fine. Let's start this way."

[pensandpapersandme]

I admit that I've been frustrated with what's happening in my life that I forgot to do what you've called me to do. I forgot who I am in your eyes. I forgot who you are. Yet there you are; still pursuing me despite it all. Rejoicing that I've found my way back home again. You were always ready to catch me whenever I fall. And now that I'm asking for restoration, You're making me pass through ways I never thought existed. “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another." - John 13:34

I've been lost. I didn't know which way to go. In a snap, I've lost track of your voice - I forgot who I am in your eyes. Your words were replaced with labels that tormented me in the past. They revisited me as if they were welcomed guests in my home and destroyed every bit of sanity left in me. They wrecked me and left me helpless. I forgot what love is because at this point every single thing hurt.

For weeks I zipped my mouth, I left the world, in fear of being rejected again. I've lost my confidence and boldness. I wanted to dissolve and just not exist at all. It took a while before I realized that I'd been wandering away again. I thought that I was still walking on your path until that small still voice turned into eerie shrieks. They were coming in and out of my head. I was captured.

I lost myself. I couldn't remember a thing. All I knew was that I wanted to escape whatever it was that I was in.

But you came with your sword and your horse, defending me from the tormentor; rescuing me from these monstrous beasts. You held me with your victorious right hand, redeemed me, and told me to whom I was - to whom I still belong. You breathe into me, caressing me in your arms, and reminded me of how much you longed for me - how much you love me.

You reintroduced me to your love and told me once more what I'm called to do - who I am. Redeemed, restored, made whole - the child of the Most High. Your beloved. For a while, I thought I won't be able to come back. I thought I was hopeless.

You picked me up and put me back together. You brought me to your courts and healed me. "Here I am, I have not forsaken you." This is how you love me. You are love, and I am called to love - for love.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. - John 14:1

It has always been You. You were there all along and I just needed to call You. Indeed you are the Great Pursuer, the Lover of my soul, my refuge - my everything. You are my Father. As I slowly take my first step again and attempt to hurry to where I've left off, your peace stopped me. "Walk with me; one step at a time. There's no need to worry. I got you."

it was so simple, all I needed to do was look at you, Eye-to-eye; and remind myself that I don't have to carry all of these on my own. I'm not alone and never will I be.

And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it. - John 14:13-14

Despite this, indeed, there's still a reason to rejoice. I have not lost anything for You are with me. I may have bled, suffered, and died but You are the life and resurrection. I have been made alive again in your presence. All for your glory, I will be restored and everything that has been damaged. No weapon formed against me prospered for you are my Saving Grace; You are my banner.

But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. - John 14:26-27

Once more, Your small still voice echoed through my ears; pierced through my soul; consoled my aching heart, and overflowed me with love and wisdom. You reminded me of everything I've forgotten and told me to set my eyes on You; that against all odds victory will be ours - victory is ours. There's no reason to be troubled now that I know You're here - You never left. There's a reason to hope and to rejoice for the King is with me. I am safe in your arms.

I am Yours and You are mine.

[lyrics724]

Safety Net (Cover)

[Verse 1: Ariana Grande] You know you’re really something, yeah How we get here so damn fast? Only you can tell me that Baby, ’cause you know I’m coming back You’re making me forget my past Never thought I’d feel like that again I came to peace with my path Now you got me off track [Pre-Chorus: Ariana Grande] I’ve never been this scared before Feelings I just can’t ignore Don’t know if I should…

[sirenjones]

New Spring. Same Me

March. 20 2019

It is Spring again.

The earth is new, waking up from the fast of winter. Cherry Blossoms are in full bloom, days are growing longer, somewhere high up in the mountains, a bear wakes from a long deep slumber… The New Year may have officially came a few months ago, but today is the day that truly marks the start of new beginnings. Today is the day that earth pushes the reset on her tripometer. She’s zeroed out all those long, weary miles; it’s time to start again.

I have been feeling obligated, the last few days, to write a piece for the new Spring. Though, try as I might, I haven’t been able to come up with anything that hasn’t already been said before. There’s some irony for you, new Spring. Same me. I’ve spent most of my fast wishing that it could somehow be as easy to just empty out one’s own mind the same way one can with their body. It should work the same, shouldn’t it? Stop eating for a few days, and eventually your body uses up all its extra resources, stores of calories, build up of extra junk and toxins. Shouldn’t you be able to do that with the brain as well? What do you stop doing in order to rid the mind of its unhealthy buildup? All the years of emotional damage, and toxic behavior patterns, and negative thought, anxiety, loneliness, fatigued habits– wouldn’t it be great if I could just push the reset button on all of those, too?

Last Spring I was coming out of a heavy depression. I remember it being a very pivotal time for me in putting my life back on track. Now, a year later, I worry sometimes that I may just be fooling myself in thinking that I’m actually a healthier person. I’ve taken many steps this last year to put myself closer to the path that I want to be on, yes, but look at how many more I still have to go.

These thoughts have been weighing on me, all week, all month, and to be honest, they’ve made me dread even thinking about putting any of them onto paper (onto screen), but this morning I have been having a different thought. This morning a cool, hazy light shines in through the windows and brings with it a very real sense of peace.

I am drinking the first cup of coffee that I’ve had in twelve days, not because I need it, but because I enjoy it. The ritual of sipping in the morning is comforting. I can appreciate the flavors. I am making a feast tonight for the Equinox, and for the first time since starting this tradition, I’m going to have a full table of friends to share it with. I have a loving and supportive family- a mom I can tell anything to, a brother that would move mountains for me, and a father who is, I’m pretty sure, proud that I turned out to be such a weirdo. I have two able hands, and a (perhaps overly, at times) capable mind. I may not have figured out how to fast the mind this year. I know that I still have a lot of gunk and unhealthy, irrational pathways up in there, firing off at will, fucking things up and making the path less clear for me, but hey, it’s Spring again. I’ve got a whole new year to try and learn how to sort that out.

I’m looking forward, with healthy anticipation. Happiness persists; life moves on. I may not feel “reborn,” like one would expect at such a time, but I feel good. I feel at peace. The universe is unfolding as it should, and for the the first time in quite a while, I know I am on the right path, that I am unfolding, too, just as I should.

It’s Spring again. The earth is new, and life is good.