#i dont remember how i found out slash is black i think i saw his real name and was like..... his he black? idk why

[robotpussy]

i have a feeling loads of ppl just don't know slash is half black 😭

[violetnotez]

HC: Seeing Them Shirtless for the First Time | JJK

Should I be getting ready for work? Yes, yes I should be 💀

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Music Genre: Rock | JJK

Characters: Gojo, Itadori, Megumi 

Warnings: cursing, suggestive content

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

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Shop Owner Note: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS ONE-Gojos in particularrrrrr

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The first time you saw Gojo shirtless was during your first time being intimate with him.

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Gojo was just-perfect. You honestly couldn’t describe him any other way...yeah, he could sometimes be a pain in your ass with his boyish antics, but that somehow adds to that special charm he possesses. Even now, with his hands pinning yours above your head, lips molding into yours in a lustful heat, he was smiling as if he was having the time of his life. Gojo moved down from your lips, finally allowing you a second to breathe, instantly finding a spot on your neck, sucking and licking the skin as if his life depended on it. The sensation was overriding your system, your throat desperately trying to release a groan from the overwhelming sensation, intense heat traveling through your core. You felt him find the spot you were most sensitive in, that held back groan finally being stolen from your swollen lips. Embarrassment burst into your stomach, your knuckles tightening as you shifted to to the side, desperately trying to hide your face from making such a lewd reaction.

You felt Gojo chuckle against your skin, the vibration sending a shock wave throughout your spine and limbs. “Ah, Cmon doll, don’t be so shy,” he cooed, a devilish smirk encasing his features, “I like it when you make those little sounds for me.........and only me, right?” It was a taunt, a trap, and he knew it-if Gojo Satoru was anything, he was always confident in his abilities. And his ability to completely be able to control you, to keep you by his side, was no exception. Any other day, when you were thinking clearly you would Probabaly retort back with a back handed quip that would make him chuckle. But right now, with your head buzzing with adrenaline and only the thought of the way his skin felt against yours, his kisses burning into your flesh and the pulsating heat in your core...you just wanted him.

“Only you,” you whispered, voice wavering with nerves and adrenaline as your digits found the edge of his shirt, craving for more of his skin against yours. Gojo chuckled again, the sound warm and rich like molasses. Yet, his hand since again were on top of yours, now halting you in your pursuit of undressing him. “You really wanna do this doll? I’m not against it, not at all, but you dont have to-“

“I want to,” you interjected, face flushed with desperation, eyes wide with lust, “I want to so badly Gojo...I want you.” Gojo’s chest tightened at the words, a feral need exploding in his chest-god, the times he dreamed of this day and it’s finally happening...you were just too adorable, your hair tosseled from the heated make out sessions, lips puffy and skin so warm, your eyes practically begging him to devour you. How could he deny you that luxury, especially since you wanted it so much? He leaned in to your lips, digits tracing your skin in designs only he could imagine. He pulled away, mere centimeters from your skin. “You sure little one?” He asked again, using the nickname he gave you that always made you roll your eyes with a smile. It did just the trick, making you giggle at the name as you looked to the side-“I’ve always been ready, ya know.”

“Oh really?” He teased, that delicious smirk gracing his features. He leaned away from you, sitting up in the bed. “Well, I’m not too sure about that....” His digits wrapped around the hem of his shirt near his neck, pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it to the corner of his room. Gojo shook his hair out slightly, making the tendrils look even more chaotic than before. You felt your chest tighten by the sight of Gojo shirtless....you had imagined many times before, but seeing the real thing was way different, and way better. Gojo was built as perfectly as his personality, each muscle taught and visible in his abdomen and arms, the veins in his hand even more noticeable in the lighting. You gulped, staring at the way his sweatpants accentuated the dips of his hips, following down to the waist band of his boxers peaking out from his sweats.

Gojo noticed every gesture you made, loving how you drank in his form as he hovered over you. “Why don’t you take a picture-itll last longer,” he said as he leaned into your ear, earning a playful eye roll form you. He chuckled at your reaction, leaning back into your body, hands trailing the side of your waist. “Well if you’re not gonna take a picture....I don’t think it’s very fair that I’m the only one shirtless here....” your felt his digits find the hem of your shirt, teasingly tracing your skin under from underneath..

“So how about we change that, hm?”

The first time you saw Itadori shirtless it was by pure chance- He just cant seem to remember to bring a spare tshirt into the bathroom when he showers.

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Yuuji cant seem to understand why your so flustered- he is so adorable and innocently oblivious its almost painful. Especially when he comes out of the bathroom from a shower, cotton candy pink hair still dripping with water droplets, slick adomen in full view, the “V” of his hip bones partially exposed from the band of his sweatpants. You just wanted to have a chill movie night with your boyfriend-but how can you think about choosing between a horror or a comedy when you have that in front of you? You gulp down a ball of saliva as Itadori casually talked about the different options of films, rummaging through his drawers for a clean shirt as if this was all a normal event-which it was not. Your eyes were glued onto him, drinking in every deifned dip and curve and trying to hold yourself back from thinking about...other ways this cozy date could end up....

But Yuuji knows you like the back of his hand....he knows when something is wrong with you, and you most deinfitely are not your self right now. He instantly begins to ask you questions, voice softly laced with worry. You reassure him your fine, really, but Itadori knows you way too well. He gently raises your chin with his pointer and middle finger, forcing you to look into his eyes. Your breathe gets hitched in your throat, brain suddenly and unbelievebaly clouded from being so so close to him, now knowing that the boyfriend you love so dearly looks like a damn god under his clothing making your heart ram against your chest. His voice was comforting and warm, eyes scanning your face for any sign of sadness or even maybe sickness. 

“Whats on your mind?” he asks gently, trying to coax a response out of you so he can put his worries at ease....until he hears the words “your abs”, blurt out of your mouth at warp speed, your tone dazed and then immediately embarrassed, horror on your face for saying soemthing so honest. He blinks a few times, clearly not expecting that to come from you....but he would be lying if he didnt say he enjoyed it once it set in. A warm chuckle tumbles out of Itadori, that bright boyish grin plastered on his face. He really didnt mean to make you so flustered,..but he’s not complaining

The first time you saw Megumi shirtless was by force-he just hates being taken care of when he’s hurt.

Crimson red clumped against Megumi’s face, sticky and smeared glimpses of his pale skin glowing under the moonlight. His hair was matted down to his face from the slashes oozing out of his head, suit was slashed to bits, his ribs were killing him, and he had a limp on his left leg...but he was fine-honestly. Or that’s what he was trying to tell you...but you wouldn’t listen to a single second of the bull crap he was trying feed you. He was conflicted with emotions-on one hand, it almost annoyed him how utterly selfless you could be for him. It was 1am, the moon on its highest peak in the sky, and you were willing to play nurse for him....but on the other, it warmed him up inside that you did care so much. If he would allow himself to dwell on that emotion, he would admit-that it was .... nice....to have someone take care of him for once. He was used to bandaging each wound on his own, cleaning and disinfecting the soon to be battle scars, hissing to the walls at the pain it caused him. But with you there, you were soft, so gentle with him. Your touch was like a second adrenaline rush for him-you had yourself cradled in his lap, the skin of your thighs barely crazing his tattered uniform. Hands gently positioning his hair, pushing the wispy jet black strands away from the wounds.

“I can do this on my own,” he retorted quietly, his voice a few octaves lower from fatigue. “I bet you could..” you completely ignored him, continuing to busy yourself with closing a scrape on his skin with butterfly bandages. “-but why would I let you?” Megumi felt his breath hitch, taking a sharp breath in....any type of annoyance he felt with you being so god damn persistent instantly left his body, the only thing he can focus on was how much he loved your selfless nature-even if it could be annoying at times. But the instant he took in that deep breath, he felt a deep, guttural pain in his side, making him groan before he could stop it from spilling out of his mouth. That soft gaze you had turned to worry, your hands wrapping around his face, thumbs running smooth circles on his pale skin. “Your hurt....we’re going to need to-“

“N-no, I-“Megumi stuttered out, obviously flustered by the prospect of you seeing him so bare. “I-I’m fine. I can do this on my-“ his voice was stern and cold, yet the wavering tone made any attempt of sounding firm go invalid. You gave him a small smile, your fingers still running circles against his skin, making him look at you with nervous eyes. “Megumi, you are not fine,” you stated calmly, with eyes that simply said the opposite-you were genuinely worried for him. “please...you could have broken a rib, or done soemthing to cause a lot of damage...please, Megumi, I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.” You were asking him, pleading with him, and it broke Megumi in his core-he just couldn’t stand to see you look that scared for him of all people. Megumi sighed, eyes drifting down to the floor in hopes you couldn’t see his embarrassment as he gave in to you.

You helped Megumi shuffle out of his uniform, opting to cut it with some scissors halfway (as it was tattered to shreds already). Both of you were quite nervous...in your relationship, you had never down anything that would warrant for you to see each other’s body’s. So you being able to see him without a shirt felt like a huge step, even if it wasn’t such a big deal to an outsider. Once the fabric was finally off, you both sat in silence, your minds reeling. You knew Megumi was fit, but seeing exactly how much that work paid off brought heat flooding your body, your eyes focused on the way his breath contracted and relaxed his muscles, the moonlight catching the divots of his lower abdomen deliciously. Pale white Scars littered his skin from training, making his body even more mysterious to look at. Each scar was a story, some sort of battle, a lesson he had to learn...you wanted to learn about each and every one. Your hand felt drawn to them, digits slowly checking for signs of bruising, purposefully tracing those scars in order to burn them to memory. Fushigori was practically panicking, desperately trying to keep his heartrate lowered, the cool night air biting at his heated skin as your digits traced against his sides. You were only trying to detect the spots that could be damaged on his abdomen...but damn was it firing something inside him. He was feeling more comfortable like this, just relishing the feeling of your skin on his.

© Violetnote 2020

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

[killerskillercaptain]

Forget Me Not - part I

this work is based on this request

pairing : levi ackerman x reader

wc 1,8 k +

themes : reincarnation au, canonverse to modern au, Levi and Reader both reincarnate in modern au, Levi remembers his past life, reader does not.

warnings : lots of angst, death of reader, cursing.

You dragged your blades along the flesh of another titan's neck, tearing through it just enough to kill the giant. You watched the titan fall and crash while you landed on the ground using your ODM gear.

"Shit !" you muttered a bit panicked

Those were your last usable blades, all of the others already broke and the remaining ones were too damaged, weathered by the long and repetitive moves.

You looked around you, there were so many soldiers dead, their bodies lying flat on the ground, but you couldn't spot a single blade fit for use near any of the corpses, all of their swords had either been snapped in half, crushed or are still planted on the giant bodies trying to eat you alive.

Never had a battle been so demanding and tiresome, you don't recall seing a mission this gruesome, and you were a vet ! If there was a hell on earth, this would be it. Even the weather wasn't in your favor; it was raining blood, the air was filled with a repugnant smell that you soldiers were all too familiar with, the smell of titans body fluids and body parts rotting not far away from you. All of this was bearable you thought, grown accustomed to, what was never tolerable was the cries of your comrades getting eaten alive. The sound of their bodies crushed or getting bitten sounded new each time. It was strange, there was all this killing going on, all these horrible deaths happening right now, the rain and the muffled sounds of bones being crushed at the palms of faith, and some last words you could barely comprehend, but strangely enough, time seemed to stop for you, everything around you began to become distant and you could feel what resembled a calmness inside the turmoil inside of you. What was this odd feeling you thought, looking down at your hands, you observed the spoilt blades of your two swords, your hands weren't shaking anymore, and you found yourself in a bizarre state of apathy.

Did you accept your nearing death ? Were you going to stop fighting and let today be your last ? What could you do ? There were still more titans than soldiers, you were on your knees, incapable of making them move, even if there was a blade you could use on a body somewhere, you wouldn't be able to reach it without getting in the visual field of a titan, it would be like rushing to your death. You were stuck, your years of experience had taught you to assess quickly and effectively situations, and you knew you couldn't kill or save now, you could only run for your life, an option you couldn't bring yourself to do, maybe someone will come, someone with reinforcement and equipment.

You couldn't desert a battlefield. Looking up at the sky, you closed your eyes, cancealing the horrors of your surroundings, you prayed for one person to show up, only one person could make a way out of this hopeless situation.

Eyes still closed, you thought about Levi Ackerman, you wondered where he could be right now, you thought about the way he methodically does his job, nice and clean, no one being able to match his skills, you thought about how much he hated casualties and pointless deaths. As foolish and frivolous it was, you thought about his jet black hair and the way it would fall on his face while he escapes from a titan's grip, how his jaw clenches when he's faced with a particularly bothersome specimen, you weren't aware you picked up on those things until now, not to forget how his body spins, like a dancer in a deadly ballet. You also thought about how he always kept an eye on you every time you were together on a field, his eyes always trying to locate you somehow, you caught him so many times throwing worried glances at you, especially in dangerous situations, more than any other of his comrades. Did it mean anything ? You never thought about it that way, come to think of it, you never knew what Levi Ackerman thought of you, were you just a another comrade to him or someone more important ? Those questions were going to stay unanswered. All those times you caught him eyeing you, overprotecting you, asking you if you ate, slept, rested at the most random of occasions.

And him ? Did he know what you thought of him ?

You felt the ground tremble underneath you all of a sudden, you looked beside you and you saw a giant human-like feet, its nails extremely dirty, a long and deep cut carving an opening at its ankle, leaving the insides completely visible. When did you get accustomed to such disgusting sights ? The titan bent over, watching your form, you were looking up at him now.

He has a friendly face you thought.

You pictured Levi in your head, for maybe what you thought was your last moment. He hated futile losses.

"Don't you dare die on me" he always said.

An ear piercing sound blew out of nowhere and a black signal tore the sky apart. You saw a small figure jump from tree to tree using an ODM gear, you didn't recognize who it was until the silhouette landed next to you, only inches away. Blood and rain on his face, Levi pulled you up by your underarm.

"GET UP ! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING ?

"I don't- i don't know what had gotten into me Levi"

"I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT MOVE IT"

He let go of your arm and grabbed you by the collar of your cape and forced you to stand on your now shaky legs.

"I'm out of gas Levi"

"What ?"

If you've never seen Levi panic, you did now. His eyes darted around frenetically, from the titans to the dead bodies then back to you again. He was grabbing you by the arm again, you could feel his long fingers digging into your forearm, he was tense and panicking. Panicking because both of you didn't have horses, but mostly because he had only one gas bottle left.

Levi looked down, trying to asses the situation and come with a plan for both of you to shun the titans and get out safely while having just enough gas for one person. Feeling a hot puff on the top of your heads you both looked up just in time to see two big eyes and a large mouth ready to chop both of your heads off, Levi shot his grapple hooks and pulled you by the waist with him, you escaped this one, but he couldn't guarantee the others, this situation couldn't go one he thought. You landed far enough to be out of reach from the titan who just attacked you, but you could already spot two blonde abnormals noticing you and coming for you. Levi quickly grabbed his gas container and detached it from his gear.

"Here ! Take it ! This should be enough for you to escape far from titan territory !" Levi shouted under the heavy cascade of rain.

"What ? No !"

"Don't be fucking stupid ! Take it ! I can manage to escape without it somehow ! Forget about completing the mission ! We retreat NOW !"

You reached for the container and placed it on your own gear before standing up. One of the abnormal had come so close now you could see the veins on his ridiculously large stomach. Levi grabbed your arm one last time "I'm going to shot my hooks at the nearest tree, i'm gonna distract this one so you can escape ! You take the opposite direction"

You nodded while the ground shook harder now that the titan was in front of you, his gigantic form casting its shadow over you. You actioned your hand grips, your hooks flew right into a tree in the opposite direction of where Levi went, you prepared yourself to use the gas to speed up.

Levi thinking the titan would naturally follow him instead, landed on a giant oak before turning around. His face darkened as soon as his eyes landed on you. You were struggling to get past the titan who was still chasing you and ignoring Levi, how come you weren't moving fast, the amount of gas should have been enough.

Levi's felt his heart stop and sink down his stomach, he instinctively reached behind him and pulled up the container he still had.

It was full.

He had given you the wrong gas container.

He mixed them up and gave you the empty one.

That's why you were so slow, too slow.

Too late.

Looking up, afflicted, he launched forward screaming your name, but it was in vain and he knew it. He couldn't take his eyes off your small figure getting picked up by a giant human hand who didn't have the any struggle catching up with you.

You think you heard him scream

You think you heard him scream your name

You're not sure, but you think you heard him slash the titan's fingers and landing with you on the ground, the titan's blood pouring down on both of you, hot and sticking.

For a moment, you thought you were going to make it, but you got suddenly conscious of the grotesque laceration on your lower abdomen and knew that this was it. You weren't going to make it.

An indescribable pain, a man's cry of misery, and cold blood running through your veins, you watched your vision go black, and for a split of second, the feeling of falling down an immense pit was all you could think of, the voice of Levi's cries resonating against the walls of what you assumed was your consciousness.

"I'm sorry ! I'm so sorry !" "Forgive me !"

***

When you opened your eyes, the sunlight blasting through a nearby window blasted your vision, when your eyes adjusted to the lightening, you realized you were in a room painted with an immaculate white.

How did you get in this hospital room ?

Wait, how did you know this was a hospital room ?

Because it looks familiar

You tried to recall anything prior to this instant, but you couldn't. Your mind was blank, you grabbed your head with your two hands, how come your memory was so blank ?

Outside of the building, you could hear chanting ambulances and honking cars in the distance, making your head throb painfully. You looked at your right, a bed table was there, on top was a bottle of mineral water, your keys, and your purse with a stethoscope dangling from it. There was also flowers dipping in a small amount of water inside a glass.

Your purse ? Your keys ? You don't remember coming here by yourself ! You tried to get up and get out of bed but the thumping inside your head quickly urged you to lay back down rapidly. You closed your eyes to try and shut the pain but heard footsteps shuffling cautiously inside the room, eyes still closed you heard a familiar soft and young voice ask if you were awake.

[hoeiplier]

pls remember to add slashes or % in the names!! i dont want any kiddies finding these fics ;w; also,,,,,lowkey ship this ship super badly owo -- mod ghostie

also sorry unedited as always shdfkgdflgkj

ALSO THIS GOT KINDA FLUFFY???? FORGIVE ME SKJFGHSKD YALL HERE FOR FUCKIN NOT LOVIN

IM ALSO REALLY PROUD OF THIS SO LIKE???? PLS TELL ME WHAT YALL THINK AAAAA 

///

“You dumbass!” Yancy rushed to hide Illinois from the nearby guards, pushing him into his cell, knowing the guards never checked for him in here. Hell, the moment they could leave their cells in the morning, Yancy was gone. You couldn’t keep him in there if his life depended on it.

Well, unless it was for one certain thing.

“Oh, someone’s been feisty since I last saw you,” Illinois smirks. stealing a kiss from Yancy. Passionate, romantic, his hand losing itself in his slicked back locks of hair, groaning at the taste of black coffee on his lips.

“Well yeahs, it’s been months. That’s not the point--” Yancy pants. the kiss nearly taking him out. How did this bastard have such soft lips after spending months in a jungle?!

“The points is youse nearly got caught, I told you if youse gonna sneak in, you oughta go the way I showed youse. Not this adventurer bullsh--”

Illinois walked into Yancy, the two near the back of the cell, pinning him down, the natural scent of the outside world on him, his knee in between Yancy’s legs, nudging against his slowly hardening cock.

The prisoner couldn’t hold back the groan, it’s been too long since he’s seen his boyfriend. Too long since he held him, since he kissed him, since he...

“You know I can’t keep my hands off of you when I visit,” Illinois’s accent drawls through Yancy’s head. Nearly hypnotizing. His hand gripping his chin, making him tilt, looking straight into his eyes. “It’s been months and months without you, babe. I get real lonely without you by my side. Some nights I just couldn’t take it, remembering you, your lips, your body...”

Illinois wastes no time, leaning forward with another passionate kiss. Groaning deeply, Yancy finally giving in, thrusting slowly against Illinois’s knee. Heart pounding as he feels the other open his mouth, deepening their kiss. Open mouthed, tongues dancing against each other. Yancy nearly driven drunk by his need to feel his most favorite person in the world against him again.

“Fuck...”

“Yeah,  we finally will,” Illinois chuckles, low and deep, “C’mon babe, let’s get a move on here before your cellmate makes it back.”

///

Their clothes still stayed on, Yancy holding his shirt up by biting down, exposing his chest and throbbing cock, his striped sweats folded neatly beside them, rolling his hips back against Illinois’s hard cock in between his cheeks. 

Illinois kept his shirt open, his cock the only thing peeking out from his pants. Biting his own lip, his hands roaming over Yancy’s hip, over his thighs trembling above him. His eyes wide, shining with adoration for the man above him. Smiling as he tilts his head to the side.

“Babe, fuck...” Illinois groaned, “no matter how many times I see you above me, it still takes my breath away...”

Yancy leaned forward, smirking back as he lays over the adventurer. His voice low, accent heavy, “no matter how many times I see youse, I still get nervous,” he chuckles, reaching around to hold Illinois’s cock in place, his hips lifting up, his own member drooling pre cum down Illinois’s flat stomach.

The two crashing their lips in a deep kiss, moaning into each other’s mouths, as Yancy finally sunk himself down onto Illinois’s cock. The slick lube making him slide down each inch at an even pace. Nearly knocking the wind from his lungs, finally, finally, being filled again. Feeling Illinois moan, their kiss deepening, his ass finally sat fully on his cock. Breaking the kiss, panting softly.

“You’re beautiful.” Illinois moaned, his hands gripping Yancy’s ass, lifting him up with ease, “so fucking good to me, babe...”

///

Yancy was thankful this cellblock was empty, every other inmate during whatever they do in the late mornings. His thoughts soon replaced with the mere pleasure he felt as Illinois fucked into him, holding him tight, hips thrusting up into the heat of his body, pre cum making a mess of his pants as he fucks his lover nice and hard.

“So good to me, so perfect for me,” Illinois continues to sweet talk, Yancy’s back arched, eyes barely open as his moans loudly. Each thrust of Illinois’s thick cock hitting his most sensitive spot head on. Each thrust up into him nearly driving him mad, pleasure shooting up his spine as he’s fucked.

“Youse feel...hah,” Yancy laughed, biting his lip as Illinois drags Yancy down, biting down his jawline and neck. The smell of sex filling the cell, “feel so good in me, God, youse feel so fucking good...I missed youse so much...”

Illinois slowed this thrusts, fucking into Yancy with harder movements, his cock deeper than before, letting the other roll his hips. His inner walls tight around his thick shaft, rolling his hips slow, his own cock leaking down Yancy’s front.

“I missed you more, babe, all I could think about was you,” Illinois continues to kiss and bite down Yancy’s neck, his heated breath making the prisoner shiver under his hold, continuing to rock down on his cock, “every cold night in my tent, every early morning, every hike, every climb, all I could think of was you, fuck, I missed you so so so much. I missed us so much, I love you--”

Yancy reaches forward, grabbing Illinois’s face, catching his lips, a deep passionate kiss. Just as romantic as the ones they always shared when meeting again.

Until Yancy raises up, and slams back down on Illinois’s cock, riding him fast and hard, Each hit to his sweet spot making him see stars. Illinois arching into the kiss, grabbing Yancy by his hair, groaning as their bodies rock into one another. The all familiar heat building in them both.

“I love you, Love youse so much,” Yancy groans in between kisses, “love youse, love your body, love your voice, love everything about you.”

Illinois grips Yancy’s ass, spreading him wide, groping his cheeks as Yancy continues to fuck himself on his cock. Their bodies hot to the touch, just barely at the edge of their orgasms. The bunk bed above them shaking with their efforts, the two completely focused on one another’s needs.

“Can’t hold back, gonna fucking--”

“Cum with me,” Illinois kisses him once more, bucking his hips up to meet Yancy’s drops on his shaft. His hand moving from his soft ass to his cock. Clumsily jerking off the prisoner in time with his thrusts. So close, each call of his name, each deep kiss, each thrust and drop down on one another...

“Cum with me, Yancy, please babe, cum with me,” Yancy growls, kissing Yancy with all he’s got, “please babe, just please cum with me! Please, I need you, babe, please!”

With a shout, Yancy slams back down on Illinois’s throbbing cock, the two breaking their kiss, Yancy arching up as he shouts out Illinois’s name. Eyes closed tight, his cock spurting cum across Illinois’s exposed stomach and chest. Completely lost in his own pleasure as he still rolls his hips on Illinois’s cock. FIlling him up with his hot white cum.

And yet, Illinois -- in his own longing orgasm, can’t take his eyes off how beautiful his lover looked. Completely satisfied and spent, Illinois couldn’t have found him more beautiful.

///

“...I love you.”

“Youse told me at least 4,000 times.” Yancy laughs, the two snuggled under Yancy’s sheets. The cellblock still empty as can be, the nearest guard nowhere within earshot nor sight.

“And I’ll tell ‘youse’ 4,000 more.” Illinois teased, bringing the arm squeezing him tight to his face, kissing his knuckles soft and sweet.

“...Illi?”

“Yeah?”

“...tell me about it out there, is it still scary?”

Silence follows the two, Illinois turning around to face Yancy, his expression a mix of nervous and sleepy. Of course he was, Yancy was always a blabbing mess before sleep. Even back when they were cellmates, Illinois remembers he’d speak whatever little thought passed his mind.

“Well, I’ll tell ya that the wilderness is probably the best place to be right now. Especially the mountains, I’m gonna be heading north after this. I know you don’t like leaving here...maybe we can try to go next time I visit you? ...Please?”

Another silence follows the two. Yancy sleepily smiles, pulling Illinois into a soft kiss. A kiss that seemed bittersweet, knowing once he wakes up, Illinois will be off in the world exploring once more. 

“...Yeah...I think I’d likes that, Illi...”

[calumcest]

as he faced the sun he cast no shadow

dont roast me for using oasis lyrics as the title also i think this is the shortest fic i’m humanly capable of writing 

Ashton doesn’t really realise he’s fallen out of love until it’s happened. 

He only half-remembers the first day, like someone else’s fever dream told to him the next morning. He remembers Luke’s face, strained and tight, telling him I can’t do this anymore, I can’t be with you anymore. He remembers his stomach bottoming out, his mind racing, his palms sweating, excuses and pleas stumbling over each other in their haste to leave his lips. He remembers his voice rising with the panic in his chest, remembers thinking wildly that even his breaths belonged to Luke as his words constricted Ashton’s lungs, threatening never to let go. He remembers the dial tone as Luke had hung up, screen blinking back to his contact list, remembers staring at it for a moment in disbelief, and then sinking to his knees. 

Three minutes for a three year relationship. That’s all Luke gave him. Luke had always known that Ashton’s biggest desire was his greatest weakness, and now Ashton knew it too. There was nothing of him to love. He was disposable. 

The first few months were the worst. Ashton doesn’t remember those. June, July and August were nothing to him. In years to come (and Ashton remembers wondering if there would be such things) he will have no recollection of his twenty-sixth birthday. 

He remembers flashes. He’d drifted through the days, making empty promises about feeling fine without having any concept of what ‘fine’ felt like. He knows he didn’t listen to music for over a month, because it was completely futile, completely meaningless. He knows he couldn’t fall asleep normally anymore, having to stay up until six a.m. to make sure he was so exhausted he wouldn’t be able to think, because the only thought that could form in the muddle of his mind was how worthless he was. He doesn’t remember the pain he felt but remembers it being the first time he’d felt so much pain that he couldn’t feel it anymore, like breaking a bone. He’d been so relieved for the numbness and so frightened of it, because he’d known at some point it would all come crashing down, a dam built of paper and straw. 

Time had moved wrong. He remembers standing under the shower at the gym and it taking twice as long to automatically turn off. He remembers turning it up to the highest heat, hoping the hot water on his skin would make him feel something, force the pain to hit. He’d feel nothing, yet look down and see bright red staring back at him like a warning. 

Twice a week, he’d paid to display all of his worthlessness, his unloveable nature. He’d wept. His voice had cracked. And then he’d cleared his throat, blinked salt water away, smiled, thanked her, left. She’d said she saw nothing behind his eyes, but she was trained to notice. Nobody else saw, and that was all that mattered. 

Everything was Luke for such a long time that Ashton barely even noticed it. He’d see food and think of Luke, hear songs and think of Luke, smell the lingering scent of someone walking past and think of Luke. Luke crowded into every corner of his mind, every topic of his conversation. There was nothing Ashton could see or think or do without thinking of Luke. 

For example, Luke had always saluted magpies, and Ashton never had. 

(“It’s bad luck not to,” he’d said indignantly, when Ashton had laughed at him the first time he saw him do it. Ashton had rolled his eyes, but he’d found himself starting to salute on autopilot when he spotted a little black and white bird in the distance.) 

He remembers the first time he saw a magpie after Luke, remembers the way he hesitated for a moment before touching his fingers to his forehead. He specifically remembers thinking about Luke then, a raw slash to his heart, knowing that somewhere, forty miles away, Luke was saluting another magpie, not knowing what Ashton knew - it was in vain. 

Calum had taken him on holiday. A change of scenery, he’d said. Somewhere that doesn’t remind you of Luke. 

Italy. 

Ashton remembers the hot sun, but he doesn’t remember how it felt on his skin. He remembers the bright afternoons, but he doesn’t remember how they made him squint. He remembers the sea breeze, but he doesn’t remember if it made him shiver. 

Calum had taken him to a church, a beautiful white building tucked in the corner of a flagstone plaza, as though he knew what Ashton needed. 

Ashton hadn’t prayed in years. He hadn’t believed in even longer, but he was so desperate that he’d grasped at the straw Calum had handed to him, sat on a dusty wooden pew with his eyes cast to the ornate painted ceiling. 

Please, he remembers thinking silently, wildly. You might think you know better, but you don’t. I need Luke. I can’t live without him. 

No one had responded, but Ashton had left feeling a little lighter, a weight off the heaviness he hadn’t even noticed before. 

After that, things got a little easier. 

He could laugh without it being meaningless. He could think. He could focus. He still couldn’t sleep, couldn’t let his mind wander, couldn’t be alone, but he could breathe. He’d thrown himself into the music, picking up the sticks he hadn’t touched in months and drumming, writing, drumming, writing. Calum had finally lost the crease between his eyebrows when Ashton started to sing again. 

Ashton remembers fearing Christmas. It would be his first one without Luke in four years. 

(“I’ll be thinking about him,” he’d told his therapist anxiously, nibbling on his lip. 

“You’re allowed to,” she’d said.) 

Christmas, however, came and went. Ashton remembers forgetting Luke on Christmas Day, too caught up in the festivities and opening presents and eating lunch and playing with Harry and Lauren, only remembering that he’d been supposed to think about Luke when he was brushing his teeth and grinning maniacally at himself in the mirror. 

January in LA had been cold and wet and miserable, but Ashton doesn’t even care because he remembers. He remembers the biting wind stinging his cheeks, the way he had to dig his hands into his pockets because he forgot his gloves, the new scarf he had to buy to hide his nose in to protect it from the icy air. He remembers slipping on wet pavements, running from Target to his car in the pouring rain, feet squelching in leaking shoes. He remembers driving to Calum’s, and sleeping in Calum’s bed, and having to fall asleep without his phone in his hand. 

He doesn’t remember doing it, though, because he only remembers waking up the next morning, awake and refreshed and well-rested. 

He remembers how trivial things started to matter again. The emails piling up in his inbox, the way the door to his garage squeaked when it closed, the fact that only one charging port on his laptop worked. He remembers the important things starting to matter less, too - Luke’s laugh, Luke’s smile, Luke’s eyes. 

He starts listening to the music Luke had introduced him to again. At first, it reminds him of Luke, of muggy summer nights spent driving in Luke’s car singing at the top of their lungs, but he grits his teeth and pushes through it. He walks when he listens, exploring the neighbourhood, making new memories. Eventually, the music becomes Ashton’s, and Ashton’s alone. 

He’s listening to it now, leaning over a railing as he watches the sun set over the ocean. The sky is streaked with orange and pink, and Ashton thinks he’s never seen anything so beautifully meaningless. The cool evening breeze licks at his arms and makes him shiver a little as he squints, sun just at the right height to hit his eyes. He doesn’t mind, though, because he can feel it. 

There, standing in the warm glow of the sunset and watching the sinking light glitter on the surface of the water, he feels peace for the first time in nine months.

He smiles, and watches the sun sink until he can no longer feel its warmth on his skin. 

[neko-rogers]

Relax

Square Filled: Shower Sex ; created for @spnkinkbingo

Synopsis: All you want is to take a nice steamy shower and compensate for the sleep you’ve been longing ever since you began hunting for a vampire nest.

Words: 2760

Forewarnings: NSFW 18+, foreplay, cunnilingus, intercourse under the shower, implied oral (male receiving), and the sad fantasy of running water being wasted.

A/N: Don’t try this at home, it’s really freaking dangerous and you could slip. Plus you’re obviously going to waste tons of gallons of water.

The silver knife that had been covered with blood from an earlier hunt still slashed keenly through the vampire’s neck, creating a loud gushing sound as it glides from it’s flesh. The second afterwards was seeing the beheaded body fall to his knees and concrete ground while blood oozed out from everywhere.

Your heartbeat continued to race, with your chest heavily heaving and head feeling light-headed from all the action. Meanwhile your hands and face were covered with an excessive amount of blood stains while your outfit was completely dirty. Though you couldn't thank yourself enough for having to finish the job already since it meant that you could get some rest that should compensate for the previous days.

"Y/N!" You picked up Sam's hoarse voice immediately from the dozens of hallways of the building. He was calling your name out for moments until you saw a flashlight flicker across the room from you.

Sam then placed his pistol back into where it was once he saw you standing there with a deceased creature behind. He hurried to where you stood as you dropped the large knife to the ground, which echoed a clashing sound around the area, and enveloped the Winchester’s body with your filthy arms. His musky scent filled your nostrils even when everything was completely covered in grease, you could still smell library books attached to his button-up. “Dean and I were looking for you these past few days, you could’ve left a note in the bunker or texted before you stormed off.

“I did text you guys.” You pulled back from the embrace and realized how guilty you were immediately since you only had texted them the moment you were about to head for the vampire’s nest you had been tracking a few months ago.

He continued to remind you that informing him that you were passing by at Sunnyside Diner and stating about solving a case wasn’t actually comforting at all for them. You held them worried for days whereas all they wanted was to keep you safe, therefore you couldn’t even look up directly at Sam and apologize because of the shame.

“Look, Sammy, I’m sorry about that and I realized how dumb I was to not leave a note to where I was heading−”

Heavy steps followed and you could hear Dean’s voice this time, calling for Sam’s name until he ended up finding the both of you. He had the ivory pistol secured around his dominant hand though he angled it down when he got closer and recognized your unwashed face. You couldn’t tell if the look on his face was relief that they finally found you or resentment due to your bold move of leaving the bunker without any context.

“Y/N.” The tone of his voice crumbling.

Dean was pleased to see you as a whole, don't get him wrong, he could finally sleep at night better than when you were not around. But he couldn't help himself once his emotions got the best of him and began acting too overprotected over you, "Goddammit Y/N didn't I tell you to keep yourself safe and always tell us where you're heading to?" His voice sounded demanding rather than a question.

With the younger brother caught up between the sudden conflict, Sam watched as you exchanged aggressive dialogues towards one another. You were tired and accomplished a case, no one could do anything anymore as everything that had to be done is done. There weren't any excuses left so you were exhausted to even argue. "Dean I'm sorry and I know I shouldn't have done what I did–"

"No. You don't get to pull the sorry card up your ass again," Dean stated and took a deep breath before rubbing his palm over his face.

He then continued, "My brother doesn't have the guts to tell you this because he's too chicken but you shouldn't be selfish with the hunting business, Sam and I are sick and tired of worrying where you go to everytime because you couldn't even leave a damn note or text me!"

Yeah you did understand Dean. You knew him from the back of your hand and for this scenario, you understood why he got so frustrated with you disappearing from the bunker out of nowhere. It would've been heavy for him especially when you realized that all he wants is to keep you safe – he was traumatized of being left alone or his loved ones to die again since hunting obviously isn't the best lifestyle to engage in.

He has had a hard time processing whether you would still be alive or not. He could never sleep peacefully knowing you could be out in the field being tackles by creatures stronger and more powerful. He loves you too much and hates to even think of you getting harmed. He wants to spend forever with you because you're the last remaining joy and symbol of hope for his fucked up life.

Though due to your weary condition, you weren't able to understand that. Instead, you felt a struck of guilt and sadness into your thoughts – you were trying to do what was good yet in the end it turns out that you were still the one doing wrongful acts. It hurt and tears began brimming around the circles of your eyelids and within moments, droplets were streaming down yours eyes.

Sam was surprised and felt too bad about it, he knew his brother became a bit hard on you though he didn't want to speak up anymore. Meanwhile the dickhead in front of you realized his mistake as his jaw dropped in awe, "Okay I didn't mean to sound that harsh, I just meant that all Sam and I want is to keep you safe because–"

"I'll wait in the Impala."

And with that you rudely stopped him from explaining further, rather walking past him with a cold aura while stomping your feet along the way. You made sure not to look back, trying to hid the uncontrollable tears from streaming, as you landed outside and instantly caught sight of the black Impala that glistened under the night sky.

It took them longer than usual before they went back into the car yet you couldn't care less because there you were seated at the backseat with dried tears staining your cheeks. Once you heard the car doors unlock, your system sooner dozed to slumber and when Dean started the engine you couldn't remember anything anymore than pitch black since your body was giving up and exhaustion got the best of you.

A light tap on the shoulder awoken you from slumber. Your eyes squinted alongside to see Sam trying to wake you up acknowledging the Impala has arrived in the bunker, your mind was groggy and it was a shame you couldn't continue dreaming – at least you could take that shower already. There you thanked Sam and got off the car.

Immediately, you picked your bag then went straight to the doorway and to your room, ignoring Dean along the way when he tried to look at you passing by. You were purposely being cold to him and could tell he was genuinely guilty about it. He even tried to open his mouth thought not a word came out from his tongue.

Once you dropped your gear and swept it under the bed, you grabbed a towel and went straight for a shower. You closed the door behind and began stripping your clothes off until none was left and you were naked as a bear, dropping every apparel on the floor then moving past the plain, nude-colored curtains.

Next you turned the shower and adjusted the heating system until the temperature was soothing your body perfectly. You moaned out of relief when you allowed the water to run down your body, soaking through your hair and feeling it rinse all the dirt clumped up in your body. You took a handful of liquid soap and dumped it all over your body while shampoo was all over your hair. Then you began to scrub every particle there was latched to your skin while the water was gently streaming down – from either side of your arms then down to the valley of your breasts, you made sure your body wasn't feeling sticky or gross anymore.

As you were midway with the relaxing shower, you heard the door creak open and assumed who it was. "Now isn't the best time to shower together, Winchester."

"C'mon, Y/N, I didn't mean what I said earlier."

You continued to bathe your body as your eyelids fastened and your face was directed against the shower head with fingers running through your tangled locks. There you were ignoring anything Dean was stating, even if the only thing separating the two of you was the shower curtain between.

But that didn't stop him from bugging the hell out of you. Within moments of avoiding a conversation with him inside the bathroom, you heard the curtains move aside while hands enveloped around your bare waist – it was Dean already naked and joining you in the shower without even having to ask you if he could.

He quickly shushed you before you could react furthermore, "Relax."

His soft hand pressed against your upper back while his other reached for the bottle of soap and squeezing an amount onto your skin before placing it back. He began to massage your body, starting it off with his thumb doing circular motions at the lower back of your neck while his other fingers gripped around your shoulders.

Then he eventually advanced lower, sensing his muscular arms on either sides of you. His hands pressed lightly against your breasts at first while you let out a gasp and felt your body betraying you as the area between your thighs began to soak with your arousal despite the fact that you were submerged with running water already. “You like that?” Dean sensually teases.

And just like that your body gave into the scene and melted into a puddle. You nodded for Dean and you let your back relax against his sturdy torso, allowing him to lead you on with what he plans to do to help you ease yourself.

Firstly, you looked to your side only to be met with soft lips that swiftly progressed with your mouth. He tasted like the typical combination of fast food and beer, though you didn’t mind as you got used to it, as he subtly tugged your lower lip between his teeth then releasing promptly.

Without having to sense it at first, he brushed the ends of your hair to one side and lowered his face on the other until his lips could press against a part of your neck. Dean began to suck against the sensitive skin while continuing to knead onto your breasts. He even bit down and nibbled with certain areas between your neck and shoulders until pink bruises were forming and your body ached harder for him.

Then he spun you around until he got the magnificent view of your breasts bouncing out for him. With a sudden move, Dean’s mouth lapped onto one of them and began to swirl the tip of his tongue around your sensitive nipples. You took a few steps backward and stopped when you felt your back lower onto a flat surface just around the corner. Though he didn’t stay fondling around with your breasts for longer as his mouth unfastened and left the usual love bites at the area. It tickled you for a bit but mostly sent a kindling sensation throughout your body.

His mouth went downwards further, reaching over your midriff and leaving trails of kisses until it resulted with him pressing his lips firmer onto your clit. He knelt down onto the floor while continuing to eat your cunt out, swathing from your folds and delving further to earn a taste of the wetness formed from earlier. You couldn’t help but extend your arms out and jerk a handful of his hair. When you looked beneath, you were caught with the view of the water running along Dean’s toned back, seeing it glisten through the light which created the effect of his body looking more wonderful whereas his face was completely buried under your pussy. “You taste so sweet, princess.”

Another thing was he attempted to dip a finger inside you, pumping it inside and outside while you let out a soft groan. He tried to add another finger but this time you concluded that his touch and tongue wasn’t enough for the throbbing of your sex, craving for more specifically his cock impelling inside of you. “Dean, I need more.”

He murmurs, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“I need your cock inside me,” you whine while he chuckles at you knowing that a few hours you despised him but now you were pleading.

Dean straightened himself in front of you now, leaving your pulsing nerves for a short while reaching for one of your legs and hoisting it up which gave him a better angle to penetrate himself inside you. Meanwhile his cock was totally erect and stood out before having to align himself with your entrance – even with the sight of it, you could already imagine it filling your insides and repeatedly propelling your walls.

Oomph.

He didn’t ask once more for a permission from you before skimming his fingers over your folds then fisting his cock and guiding it until you could feel is sink inside you. Your mouth gaped open when Dean began to thrust his hips forwards and backwards as you tried to grip around his arms or any handle to stay in tact. “Baby, you feel so good.”

And even though his size wasn’t that lengthy, he was definitely thick enough for your walls to tighten around and feel your favorite sensation wash through your system. Dean knew how to use his dick, he knew how to please you in many ways than you could imagine and that was one of his most special skills. From trying to hold back your moans which now escalated quickly to being a groaning mess. Your body that was one rinsed off clear from soap now was covered in your perspiration again though wasn’t too obvious because of the phase you both spent here.

The shower room didn’t only echo your voice but Dean’s grunts also. His tone was deep and rigid, even without the sex you always fantasized about his husky accent – the way he gets furious with failed hunts or when things slip out of hand, he gets enraged and usually ends up throwing something across the library out of impulse – that is fucking hot.

“Should this be considered as an apology sex?” he suddenly blurts out subsequent with a short laughter, but you didn’t respond rather gestured him to continue with what he’s doing to you.

Maybe it was your condition that made you closer to your orgasm faster than you normally expect it to be; moreover, you were certain that the fiery intensity that was forming inside your lower abdomen was a sign that you were nearing. Your head felt dizzier than earlier and your temples throbbed fervently because of the temperature of your body rising up. “Are you close, princess?”

Dean obviously had the smug smirk on his face even through with the shower disrupting your sight. He was confident because he knew your body well, how your instincts would act up when you were feeling certain things. In addition to that, he dragged his hand between your inner thighs and began to thumb down to your bud. “You can come, that’s definitely fine for me.”

Then you let out a scream and allowed yourself to release before him. Your fluids dripping down your thighs but the water immediately washed it down the drain before Dean could do anything else. He lets out a heavy sigh of relief when he felt his cock being covered with your warmth as you got down from it, this time it was you who knelt down for him, “My turn.”

His brow raised for a second as his chest was evidently trying to catch a breath yet couldn’t help but smile at the view.

[ancanosaur]

•Without a shadow of a doubt•

Chapter one: A Temple of Memories.

The temple was building of old creaks and sounds that echoed through the halls in the night. Despite their past reputation and the swollowing cold that surrounded their temple, the Lin Kuei had welcomed you with great open arms and the warmth of family.

You don't remember much of what happened. You remember the roaring engine and slashing blades of a helicopter. The wind was warm on your cheeks, the sky giving off a golden glow of orange that signaled dayligh'ts final hours. Your body ached, temples were throbbing. "We're in the clear General, mission accomplished." A woman's voice spoke over you, your (E/C) orbs searched up, finding a blonde looking down at you. "Don't worry, we got you." She smiled softly. Her eyes were an ocean blue and filled with hope. "Cassie." A man's voice was heard, making the blonde look up at an older man, his hair a light brown with a bit of salt and pepper in the sides. "Let's get them hooked up." He said.

You suddenly felt your body lift from the ground and onto what felt like a hospital bed, your finger tips finding soft thin sheets as the buckles around your waist were tightened, a soft prick in your arm made you give a gasp of weak air, looking over to see the man placing an IV needle in your arm and sticking a bit of tape over it, keeping it in place. "Sorry kid, gotta keep you alive and hydrated." He patted your shoulder, giving a smile. "It's good to have you back." He said finally. "Let's head out, Jacquie!" Cassie called to the front of the copter.

That's all you could remember. Besides landing at base and being greeted by many smiling faces. The ones that rescued you saying that they were close friends and teammates of yours. You thought back to their happy faces, sitting around you in the hospital room. They all said that you were all close, the best of friends, and yet you couldn't think of their names. Their features all gained a veil of grief as you shook your head at them. The older man spoke up as the youngers went qiuet. "That's okay Y/N." He gave a smile. "You just get a chance to get to know us all over again." It gave the others a bit of hope.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You sat up from your spot on the bed and quickly made your way over to slide open the door seeing a young woman's face. "Frost." You gave a smile. She returned it in more of a small smirk. "I brought you dinner." The snowy haired girl spoke, holding up a trey of steaming food. You gave her a gracious smile, taking the trey from her and allowing her in as you sat the trey down on the dark wood of your night stand. "So when are you going to get back to helping me with the kiddies?" She said, her bare feet making icey patches on the stone floor. "You're bothered." You meet her cool blue eyes as you sat on the bed. Frost looked at you for a moment before letting out a chilling sigh, the air from her lungs thick and smokey as she took a seat beside you. "Grandmaster send me, wanting to know are you're doing and everything," Her posture was hung low, her arms crossed over her knees. "See if you remember anything."

The food on your night stand still smoked with freshness as you eyed it. You looked back at Frost, trying to find the words. You wanted to be truthful. But another part of you simply wanted to tell her the things she and the Grandmaster wanted to hear. "You don't eat as much as you should." She commented, seeing you just looking at the plate of meat and vegetables seeming unbothered.

"I just feel like i dont need it." You answered after a moment, moving your gaze to the cold tile floors. "Well, you do." The Cryomancer said in a caring yet slightly forceful way, something that was just part of Frost's charm. She see's your jaw clenched for just a moment. "It would hurt a lot of people's feelings if you starved to death." She nudge you, making you gain a low smile for just a moment.

You wish you could remember being apart of the clan and the your team, you wish you jad those memories. But you simply didnt. "Ill feed you if you dont eat." Frost finally said. That made you shake your head and give in with a smile. "Alright, alright." You pulled the trey into your lap, picking up the spoon and stirring around the small bowl of stew that was on the side before taking a bite. "There, now we can keep you." She gave a smile.

You finished your plate and sat it to the side. You and Frost had began talking about the temple gossip that you had apparently missed. Like that one of the guards, Tao had the hots for a Shiria Ryu memeber that always came with Master Hasashi for sparring training, she said his name was Atomu and that you should ask Takeda about him once you join back up with your SF team.

"Frost?" You ask after a moment of silence between the two of you. "Hm?" She looked up at you. "What..." you puased, unsure of how to really word the question. "What happened to me?" You looked at her, metting her gaze.

Frost's shoulders tighted up for a moment before loosening g up again. Her crystal eyes looking to the grey brick of the floor for a moment like she was hoping the carving in the tile would answer for her.

"You died."

She finally answered, and you felt dizzy for a moment. "I-i what?" You looked at her, "Frost, i couldnt have. Im right-" "here. You're here now." She looked at you firmly. "And thats all that matters." She let out an irritated huff but her sharp features began to soften as she looked back at you.

You just sat there, looking at the ground. Chewing on your lips like gum. "How?" You finally asked, not meeting her eyes. "You," she looked down at her hands, picking at her nails, a nervous habbit of hers. "Were with your team, everything was going smoothly and then an ambush happened." She sighed. "You took a knife and...that was that." She said abruptly, not wanting to talking about the details.

Your fingers were clutched tightly into the bed below you, the world feeling like it was spinning around you, until a hand found your shoulder. "But we got you back." Frost said, her grip firm on you. "That's all we wanted."

Time passed and Frost had left you for the night. The wool blankets wrapped around keeping you warm as you begin to drift to sleep, the candle at your bedside still burning.

Everything was nothing but pitch black around you, your body was just a drift in nothingness, it was warm nor cold. Just nothing until a pair of large hands found their way to gripp your arms, seeming to hold you in place in this endless darkness. You're eyes were open, but they saw nothing in this dark place as the hands traveled up, sliding against your skin and up to hold your face. "A lost little spirit..." the voice was deep, yet it echoed like the hissings of snakes. You felt fingers run through your hair and tilt your face to the side. "I'll take you in..." the voice whispered.

You sat up in your bed, letting out a gasp as if you had been under water. Your hand found your heaving chest, your heart desperately trying to escape your ribcage as it pounded against your sternum.

You looked around your small dark room, recognizing it as yours, aiding you in calming from your dream. You let out a deep sigh, closing your eyes for just a moment before the smell of smoke caught your attention.

The candle that was one lit was now out and it was still smoking as if it had just been blown out. You eyed it for a moment, until you were able to tell yourself that your sudden movment from waking up had blown the candle out. You shook your head. It was just a dream, a weird dream that had left you with this chill of familiarity. But a dream nonetheless.

You sank back down in your bed, until you felt something cold on the side of your face, making you feel for whatever it was against your skin. You lifted you hand up into the moon light to see somthing dark on your fingertips making you jump and rush over into the bathroom, flipping the switch on, thinking you were going to see the crimson red of blood once you looked in the mirror. But what you saw made you shiver. A Jet black hand print was perfectly framed against your jawline, the thumb was smeared as it had been rubbing against your cheek.

You didnt know what to think or do, so you simply grabbed a wash cloth, turning the water on in the sink and soaking the cloth til it was dripping and looked back up into the mirror to wash the hand print away only to see it already disappeared.

You dropped the cloth into the water, backing up into the wall giving a shaking sigh with your hands to your head. Maybe you were losing it? Maybe you were slowly dying again. Maybe- you took a deep breath. Remembering what Grandmaster had taught you, 'In a time of storm, find a shelter. In the time of doubt find hope.' You took a few deep breaths. 'In a time of panic, find peace.' You gained control of your breathing, calming your racing heart. Being thankful for your master's words.

Then a thought popped into your mind. If there was anyone to talk to about this, anyone who would have knowledge about life after death, it's him.

You flipped the light switch off, casting the room back into darkness once more as you made your way back under your sheets. It was decided then. You would speak to him first thing in the morning.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I hope you guys like the first chapter. I wanted this to be kind of a Slowish kind of burn maybe. We'll see. We get to talk to Subby in the next chapter so that should be fun :) and like let me know if you want a smut chapter because lmao idk tell me

Ill also start working on other characters i wanna write for becuase theres a big lack in MK reader inserts my doods. I feel like this chapter is a bit rough, but i havent written a full length fic like this in a hot minutes. So hopefully it'll get better. And all fics i write and will write are gender neutral reader becuase like all genders have the right to fuck hot shadow wraiths and that's just tea☕

Please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes!

-Onyx♤

[langstwhynot]

(Don’t) Make(-it-)up

Warnings: Shance, grammar mistakes, where Lance has Vitiligo.

PLEASE NOTE THAT I DONT HAVE VITILIGO AND I DONT KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE, SO IT MAY TRIGGER SOME PEOPLE WHO KNOW MORE STUFF ABOUT IT THAN ME, PLEASE DONT READ IF ITS A TOUCHY SUBJECT FOR YOU AND I MEAN NO OFFENSE TO ANYONE.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

From a really young age, Lance learned how to do makeup. He was taught about so many abilities he could do, that it was written in his brain. Forever.

He asked his sisters to teach him, he asked from his mother to as well, sometimes he would even do their makeup just to practice and they would tell him how to get better.

It was fun.

But the reason he had to put makeup every morning before school, or every afternoon to meet with his friends, or sometimes after showering when he didn’t feel comfortable with himself, wasn’t fun at all.

He hated how he looked.

The only thing that gave him hope in his body was his dark blue eyes, that people said they were beautiful.

He would do anything for people to say it directed to him.

He would look on himself in the mirror with a face of disgust and disappointment. Why couldn’t he be like all the other kids? Why did he had to be cursed with this colorful skin?

It was rare to be born with Vitiligo, but of course Lance had to be different.

He is always the odd one from all.

He never showed or told anyone about his skin, only his family knew, and a few other kids in school, by accident! He never took down his makeup in front of people. Only late at night when he was all alone he would take the cream off from his face and hands, just to go straight to sleep.

Sometimes he would cry himself to sleep when his mind replayed the faces and screams from the kids who saw Lance cry in the bathroom of school, and the kids he ran past by when he tried to get to the exit.

Most of the times when he cried quietly, trying not to wake up his siblings, his mother was the only one to hear him. She would come and sit on his bed, brushing his hair and saying that he looked beautiful. She would repeat the things she loves about him and the things he’s good at, until he fell asleep.

When his mother was deep in sleep or too busy to hear her son crying, because of late night working or taking care of his younger siblings (or anything else), he tried to say good things about himself. He tried to copy his mom’s doings.

It was never the same as she did.

~~~

Lance landed Blue in the clearing forest he found and jumped out from her mouth when she crouched down. He drew his bayard and scanned the area around him for any enemies. It was clear.

“No Galrans here.” He said into his helmet. No one said anything except of Shiro saying calmly “Roger that.”

Lance sighed and looked around.

“Hey Pidge? Which side did you say I need to turn to?” His eyes jumped from the path into the right side of the forest surrounding him, to the left one. Pidge growled. “Didn’t you listen to what I said?” She answered angrily. Dealing with Galra and Lance at the same time wasn’t one of her things on the “to do” list.

Lance was about to answer when she replied. “If you landed your lion facing West you should be fine if you just turn 37 degrees and go straight.”

He repeated the information inside of his mind.

“That means to go left? I’m going left, screw this.” He murmured to himself and started stepping into the big mess of green.

When he got to the end of the path he saw some of his teammates already fighting. He joined the battle without hesitation. Hunk and Keith joined a few moments after him.

It was hard to fight the Galarns when you could barely see them. It wasn’t that late, in fact, it was almost afternoon on this planet. But Lance didn’t have the time to pull his head up to the sky and see who turned off the sun (or two suns, he couldn’t remember).

He hid behind a massive tree that was twice his size, and from time to time when the shots on him seemed to relax he would pop his head out for view and aim on his targets, which caused them to fire back again.

Once he hit all the three of them, he ran over and rolled on the ground to reach the pile of boxes and hid behind those. He pressed his back and scanned the area to his sides.

On his right Keith was slashing every moving creature that came near him, which is why Hunk was 40 feet away, backing up.

And on his Left Shiro was being... Shiro, with his weird and cool fighting tactics, cutting through bots and kicking heads. Pidge wasn’t to far away from him, for once using her special height ability against the very tall Galarns and causing them to fall flat on their back.

Lance yelped when a shot came too close to his head, he turned around and aimed on the target. A purple Galarn with two cat ears and a mark coming down his face, like-cutting-it-for-two-sides.

Lance and the Galarn were both aiming at each other’s head, trying to get the best position before pulling the trigger so they won’t miss and get killed. Luckily, Lance was the first to pull it and hit his enemy. The Galarn fell back on the ground.

Lance turned his head to the other side with a sigh of relief. He scanned the area, trying to focus through the dark on which figures are his teammates or... not, and also searching for an answer of how many Galarns are left.

And he was happy to see Pidge cutting through the last bot who fell on the ground in two different pieces. He smiled and got up from behind the boxes.

“Great work team, now we should get back to the Trixons’ city to tell them we took down the threatens ship.” Shiro said as he took down his helmet, walking closer while the others did as well. They made a circle.

They kept talking but Lance couldn’t listen. He finally was able to look up to the sky to see what made darkness cover the planet’s afternoon. He took down his helmet to make sure what he got was right, and not just the helmet’s dirty glass. He raised an eyebrow when he saw he was right.

The sky were gray.

“That’s weird.” He whispered to himself, a hopeful feeling raised in his chest and made his heart race a bit. He looked down to his friends who kept talking and cheering, not all of them took down their helmets.

Hunk finished his laughter and turned to face Lance. “What’s weird buddy?” He asked, without any confusion showed. Lance didn’t care, he just wanted an answer. “Am I the only one that see the sky are gray?” He pointed up.

This drew everyone’s attention up to the cloudy sky. “Huh,” Keith let out. “They really are.” He continued.

“Ew! Keith! Stop spitting on people when you talk!” Pidge said as she wiped a water dot from her forehead, looking up to Keith on his left. “I didn’t spit.” He said.

Lance looked up to the sky again and blinked his eyes when a tear dropped on his nose. He opened them again, now they were shining in awe. “It’s-“ He smiled. “It’s raining!!!”

Some of his friends gasped as more tears started to fall down on them and around, looking up to the sky, unabling to keep looking for too long or else water will get in their eyes. Soon they started cheering.

Everyone took down their helmets now, they jumped around and danced, laughed and hugged, how much did they all miss rain. Something to bring them a feeling of home.

But all their feelings weren’t even close compared to Lance’s. He kept his head up to the sky with his eyes closed as he cried in joy and tears mixed with a salty rain came down his cheeks. He smiled.

The smell of the water meeting with the ground and the sound of the leaves of the trees being washed clean. The wind that came from time to time and made Lance shivers, but he didn’t care. The static sound of the drops who only got stronger and painful with their falling down to the planet. Lane began to laugh as well.

He didn’t heard when, and he also didn’t notice, that his teammates stopped laughing long time ago.

“Lance...?” Shiro said quietly.

Lance turned to him and wiped the tears and the rain from his eyes so he could see the black paladin. He flinched when he met with his teammates’ face of worry. “What?” He asked, and no one answered.

Pidge just pointed on her own face.

Lance, who saw nothing on her face, pulled his hand up to his cheek and met with wet. He pulled his hand back away when he saw on his hand a light brown cream on the fingers that met with his face.

Oh no.

“Oh no.” He now said out loud, backing away from his friends and covering his “naked” face. “No, no, no no no!! Don’t look at me!!” He yelled, looking out around from the mask made of hands he made to cover his face, between his fingers, searching for his helmet.

He found it and put it on his head, turning around and running away from his friends. “Lance!!!”

~~~

Lance stared blankly into the abyss his legs hung above. He sat on a cliff and stared down into the forming darkness inside of the crack in the ground.

How could he forget about his skin? How could he forget the makeup? Now his teammates are going to think he’s disgusting and ugly, or pity him for how he looks. He doesn’t need that.

He sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands.

“Lance?”

He flinched and turned his head around to see Shiro, standing with a worried look a few feet behind him. Shiro started stepping forward and Lance suddenly wished he would have picked a better place to hide at. Shiro came and sat next to him.

No one dared to talk, Lance barely let himself breath. But for sure he won’t let Shiro look at him and see his face, so he looked to his left side where Shiro didn’t sit at.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Shiro said, putting a hand on Lance’s right shoulder. Lance didn’t turn his head. “Did you tell us about your nightmares?” He replayed aggressively.

Shiro stayed quiet for a few seconds after speaking again. “You can’t compare this to nightmares, Lance. It’s different.”

Shiro was right, it was different.

How Lance could be so selfish? Shiro has been captured for a whole year, tortured and got his arm cut off. He can’t compare his ugliness to Shiro’s pain. That’s unfair.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Lance sighed and tried to focus his thoughts on the sight in front of him. To his left side, where he was looking, the green trees stood up high and the clouds began to disappear in distance, probably moving with the wind to cover another place with it’s rain.

The two suns’ beams gave them a bit more light and Lance smiled at the weird green rainbow formed for the mix of the light with water (Stfu).

“Lance, please look at me.”

He sighed again, but this time he turned his head to look back into the abyss, so Shiro could see now his right profile. “You don’t have to hide your skin.” Shiro said finally, and Lance got confused. He looked up to Shiro to see his sad smiling face.

“We love you for being who you are, not for how you look.” Shiro tilted his head. “Besides, I think it looks cute.” Lance jumped from the sentence and flushed red. He covered his face again but now, it wasn’t in shame of his skin.

Shiro knew what he did to Lance, but he still kept going with his explanation. “We are team Voltron. The defenders of the universe. Not even a scary powerful dude living for 10,000 years can stop us.”

Lance chuckled into his hands.

“If we want to win this war, we need to accept each other and trust each other, no matter what.” Shiro continued, and pulled Lance by his chin to turn his head and take his hands off so the two could share a look. Lance didn’t fight.

“Do you trust us? Do you trust me?”

Lance watched Shiro’s eyes sparkle with hope. And suddenly, he felt like all his problems blew into dust and flew with the wind, far far away.

“Yeah.” Lance smiled. “I do. Thanks.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I’m sorry for the shitty ending<3

[bearofohu]

Bloodstained Fedora - Professor Layton Fanfiction

TW: Blood, gore, near-death, swearing.

Summary: Professor Layton has arrived to save his apprentice, Luke, along with his wife Marina. They find him, but he has been badly, badly hurt. The world just might turn its back on Hershel once again as he loses another one he loves.

Author’s Note: yea so i think this is the first fanfic on my blog? i dont write fanfictions very often anymore so please try to avoid criticism if you can. just enjoy! i’m sorry for the weird shift in tone this was originally going to be light-hearted but then my angst hit. hope u enjoy my fic regardless! its filled with latyon and luke father/son because i live for that shit bro. also sorry for any grammar mistakes im not a good writer!!

THIS IS NOT LAYTON X LUKE. IF YOU SAY IT IS I WILL VORE YOUR FUCKING FAMILY.

“You say that Luke is in here, correct?” The Professor inquired flatly, pointing one of his unnaturally long fingers towards the giant cell-like door that looked like it was concealing a million dollars rather than his dear thirteen-year-old animal-whispering emotionally stunted  apprentice, who was very much long past thirteen, but the strong instincts to be a caregiver were still there and he knew they would never go away.

He wasn’t shouting it to the rooftops, but his intuition was telling him that… well frankly, that Hershel would open the door and be greeted with the sight of a boy that had changed so drastically he would be fighting tears from his eyes and screaming on his insides at the realization that he was finally standing before the boy he had missed for years.

And even more vehemently, that he would discover that this man, Don Paolo, garbed in an ugly businessman Halloween costume, had harmed Luke… and based on the show he put on with Paolo’s fedora-tipping army, it wouldn’t end well for Paolo or Layton’s pacifist reputation.

The short, stubby little man strode forwards a bit nonchalantly as if he had full confidence that his stupid disguise was fooling him. He knew well that is was not sitting well with Marina, Luke’s wife, either, as she was almost clinging to his arm and eyeing this stranger with fiery violet eyes. It was clear she did not know this man or his relation to her frankly bumbling husband… and it was also clear that the fact that he had imprisoned Luke had caused Hershel’s arm to be the only barrier between her and terrible bloodshed. And Rosa, well…. She just looked confused, the dear lady. She always looked confused. It worried Hershel a slight that he considered, once he reunited with Luke, maybe it would be good for her to take a break from tending to his office. She was aging fast, and… er, her tea was… well, it was fucking disgusting, but that series of vulgar thoughts did not even cross Hershel’s mind. Lackluster, he would call it.

“Y-yes,” The man seemed to purr, lifting his chin that was so elongated and awkwardly curved and pointy that it could cut entire oranges. “Right there…” He gestured to the door, his stuttering and clumsy behavior reeking of Don Paolo.

“Luke!” Marina cried, leaning forwards a bit, her eyes widening and glistening as she gazed longingly at the cell door. Her passion for Luke was… oddly comforting to Hershel. It was clear she was worried.

“Do not worry,” Hershel said reassuringly. “I’m sure Luke is alright.”

Hershel lied.

His ears detected a slight click in the vicinity besides him, and his pupil that doesn’t exist, honestly, turned to gaze a bit menacingly at Don Paolo. The man paused, making eye contact with Hershel.

“So, this is as far as you have come with us, Don Paolo?” Hershel said with false pleasantry.

The man made frigid eye contact with Layton before throwing his hands up defensively with a dandy little taser in his right palm. Marina and Rosa both turned to look, and gasped with Marina shrinking back a tad.

“Y-you knew?!” He gasped.

Hershel bit back a smile, wanting to call him a moron, but instead, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and simply said, “Do you really think I would be unable to see through that cheap disguise?” His voice was stern, but had a sharp bite to it. Normally, he would be much more discreet with his aggressiveness, but Luke might be injured and Hershel didn’t have time for any of this shit.

Age has a weird way of pushing your vocabulary boundaries.

Don Paolo seemed to finally cave in upon being found out, and with a signature grunt, he grabbed two sides of his flabby costume and pulled it apart, revealing an equally flabby man. His mustache looked even grosser than it had the last time Hershel saw him, but he pushed those thoughts away as well.

“You are always so annoying, Layton!” Paolo snarled. Rosa and Marina seemed to shrink back even more, gasping with revulsion.

Hershel decided to bite back, because the more he aged, the bigger urge he had to be ornery and also, his instincts that were based from the fight with the men from earlier screamed that Luke was in danger and he needed to wrap this up. “And you are careless as always, Don Paolo.” Hershel drawled, fighting a smile as he began to dig through his pocket and deliver his final blow, “Also, I’ve taken the relic stone you had hidden in your room.” He then displayed it for all to see, a violet-blue shining stone that fit between his two fingers.

“H-how did you…” Paolo breathed, reeling back almost as if Layton had never bested him before. “How far do you intend to meddle in my plans?!” He growled, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

How far do you intend to get on my nerves?  Hershel thought in the back of his cranium. It felt almost like Don Paolo’s need to interfere with Layton’s life would follow him until he either died or Paolo finally got some self-esteem and decided not to waste his time.

Paolo tensed, his wide eyes blazing as he attempted to stare Layton down. “Do you think I’ll just leave like that?!”

Hershel almost wanted to shrug, and when his eyes moved anxiously to the cell door, apart of him wanted to kick Paolo in the teeth for what he might’ve done. He could tell Marina was staring at it too, her anxiety matching his.

Once again, Hershel settled with a simple, “Inspector Chelmey and the whole of Scotland Yard will arrive shortly.” It wasn’t a lie, he had phoned them while Paolo had his head in the clouds, blabbering to Marina with lies she didn’t care for, and he remembered explicitly to tell them to bring an ambulance, should his harrowing hunch turn to be true.

He had to get to Luke, now.

Taking a breath, he put the stone back in his pocket and pulled out a pair of yellow keys hanging at the tip of his index finger, his go-to for getting Paolo to fuck off as soon as possible. “If I give you this key to the door in the back alley, you’ll leave quietly, yes?” He mused, unable to hide a ‘you disgust me and it’s time for you to leave my general field of vision’ smile. As Paolo anxiously uncupped his hands, Hershel swung the keys out into them.

Paolo took one last chance to glare at Layton with his ugly little eyes, and sneered, “I may leave now, but you’ll remember this, Layton!” Hershel’s eyes darkened at this, knowing full well that he would remember this… but not out of fear of Paolo, for a determination to put his foot in his ass should he have hurt any part of Luke’s body.

Don Paolo then proceeded to lug himself up the stairs in a manner of a walk as if he had just pissed himself, grunting with an embarrassing amount of effort. Hershel scowled and slightly smirked after him, and then he felt a familiar fear grip at his heart as he turned back to the cell door. He took a deep breath and felt Marina’s eyes on him. He gave her a smile as comforting as he could manage, and he said, fighting to keep a tremble from his voice, “Now… let’s save Luke.”

Marina’s eyes glowed and glistened with the narrow oncoming tears that were growing out of anxiety. “Yes!” She breathed, desperation in her voice.

Hershel nodded once more and then began to advance towards the door, his heart beginning to pound silently but catastrophically in his chest.

Luke was in there, his apprentice Luke… A grown Luke, an adult Luke… It felt so unbelievably surreal. He couldn’t stop the visions from what seemed like millenniums ago, of that little boy grabbing his sleeve, eyes downcast.

Let me go with you! Let me learn from you! I can be Professor Layton’s apprentice!

It had been so long… and that boy, he could be anyone now. It had been years. Hershel looked at the pictures he had of Luke almost every day just so he wouldn’t forget the boy’s face even in all this time. He felt more memories wrench in his mind, seeming to slow time as memories of loss raced past him, shining through to the one thing that had never truly left him.

“True friends share a special connection, and this connection endures, no matter how apart they may be in the world. Do you see?”

“I-I think I do, Professor.”

Hershel breathed in shakily, feeling Marina at his side. He pressed his hands against the handles of the door.

And then he noticed the dark, thick slashes of blood that were streaked beside the handles.

His mind seized, time stopped, and he grabbed the handles of the door and swung inward as hard as he could, a desperate gasp leaving his lips. He let his eyes bear witness to the sight before him.

Streaks of blood decorated the stone floor of this cell with a menacingly vibrant shade of crimson, growing wider and wider… the room had a musky odor of fresh blood and sweat… and smoke, and as Hershel’s eyes traveled up the streaks of blood as they got wider and wider, to the far wall…

He saw what had always felt like his true other half.

Luke was laying, sprawled, at the far wall of the cell, his back to his rescuers. He was tall, almost lankly, his limbs awkwardly sprawled. He was wearing a navy blue coat that was dotted with blood splatters from heavy injuries sustained and a black singe across his entire outfit, and as Hershel’s eyes traveled to his legs, he saw deep gashes in his body’s legs from what appeared to be heavy blows by a blunt object. Beside his bloodied head, laid an equally bloodied fedora that was ripped.

The singed scent of flesh, the blood, the strong odor… it told Hershel everything he needed to know. The thugs had beaten Luke senseless, tased him, and had thrown him in here for hours…

To die.

Hershel was barely breathing as he took it all in, his ears not even registering the mournful scream that emitted from Marina. He stared at the boy, now a man… now a body…?

No, no, no. No!

Marina beelined for her husband, and she was fast, but Hershel was faster. Rosa surged forwards along behind them as they sprinted for Luke, although arthritis can only have so much haste.

Hershel made it to him first, and he fell onto his knees mid-sprint, his knees carelessly scraping across the harsh rocky ground as he hastened to the inert man’s side. His eyes scanned over and over again across Luke’s body as he reached his arms over and pulled the young man over and into his arms are careful as he possibly could, his arm moving over to support his head and shoulders. The blood easily began to congeal into Hershel’s clothes, and his apprentice’s frail form was hot to the touch from the strikes with the taser, but there was no hesitation in his mind. With a free hand, he whisked Luke’s uncut bangs out of his face and finally saw the face of the boy.

He could hardly believe what we saw… Luke was no longer a boy… but an adult… he had returned, Hershel had him now. Hershel had laying limp in his grasp what he had been missing, a loss that had left a void in his life… He was here, but it could be too late.

“Luke.” Hershel rasped, giving the young man the slightest shake as he stared into his apprentices’ pale face. “Luke, no…”

Hershel felt his cheeks grow damp and hot with what he was sure were fresh tears, and his breathing was extremely labored as he immediately moved his shaking hand down to Luke’s neck. He pressed it against Luke’s veins, his vitals, and for the first time in years and years, he said a silent prayer, a silent beg, a silent cry to God to please don’t take this from his life. He could hardly stand the barren years without his apprentice, but if he were...

If Luke was gone, Hershel just might’ve broken.

But the world wasn’t going to break him. The world wasn’t going to betray him once again, his suffering finally felt over as he felt the fluttering of a pulse underneath his fingers. Beside him, he then noticed that Marina had raced to her husband’s side as well and was borderline wailing his name as she reached for him.

Hershel absentmindedly moved his arm down to support Luke’s back and allow her to cradle his head as Rosa kneeled down at Luke’s feet, her eyes gigantic and frantic. Marina leaned down pressed her forehead against her husband’s own, sobbing with hysteria, unaware that he was even alive. “Luke… L-LUKE! N-no…!” She wailed, her tears falling down his face as she clutched him close to her.

“Professor…” Rosa gasped over Marina’s cries. The poor old women was shaking a bit out of fear and panic, this sight almost too much for her. “Professor, is he…?”

Hershel didn’t respond at first. He couldn’t take it anymore. In the years that Luke had been just a boy, Hershel had bottled so many emotions, suppressed so many feelings, hidden so many sorrows… but he just could not hold it in any longer. With the overwhelming sense of endless relief pulsing through him as he felt Luke’s pulse beneath his fingers, and as his tears began spilling faster and faster, a choked sob escaped the man, filled with all the emotions that he had never allowed himself to show around the boy.

Hershel’s head fell onto Luke’s bloodied chest, his fingers still delicately over the boy’s vitals and he sobbed even more, harder and harder… his shoulders heaving and shaking. His top hat had nearly fallen off his head at this point, but nothing could be further from his mind. There were too many emotions to convey into one word, but he felt relief, he felt sorrow, he felt joy, he felt worried, he felt distraught… and he felt the feeling of fatherly love for this boy, for his young apprentice, now a grown man, but still his young Luke. It was a feeling he could finally embrace.

“H-he’s alive. H-he’s...” Hershel gasped through vehement sobs. Beside him, he felt Marina suck in a gasp as she moved forward, embracing her husband even more as she searched for ways to rouse him.

When the overwhelming emotions were beginning to end and Hershel could get control of himself again, he lifted his head, his face streaked with tears from at least three minutes of ugly crying. His top hat had fallen off, but he didn’t even seem to notice as moved a hand gently through Luke’s matted hair and, still shaking with smaller sobs, he began to tend to Luke’s wounds with every fiber of emergency medical knowledge in his body. He moved his hands about each wound, applying direct pressure with all his strength to stop the bleeding. He kept looking at Luke’s face, searching desperately for him to come to, somehow. He instructed Marina to help with applying pressure and had Rosa keep watch over his vitals. They did not have to do this long however, because thankfully, Hershel began to hear police sirens outside the building, the familiar ring of Scotland Yard’s cars, and his heart was flooded with relief when he heard the similar alarm of an ambulance.

He managed to get Marina off of Luke’s body, telling her he had to bring him outside for medical attention. She was still shaking and sobbing, her hysteric worry still very vehement, but she could sense her relief that her husband was probably going to make it. Hershel knew he had to make haste outside, he didn’t have time to wait for them to scour the building and get to him.

As Marina parted from on top of her bloodied husband, Hershel began the process of lifting Luke in his arms as carefully as possible into a position where he could carry him. Luke, being much older, had taken on much more mass, but Hershel was still nimble and strong as ever. Once Luke was securely positioned, his neck still being supported, and Hershel was mobile, he turned and began to race out of the cell door and out to the exit of the building, calling Marina and Rosa to follow him. Marina had no trouble nipping at Hershel’s heels, still crying her husband’s name out of desperation for him to rouse, and poor Rosa still lagged behind, the excitement of today obviously taking a toll on her old bones.

Hershel bolted outside with his surrogate son limp in his arms, immediately shouting out in a strong voice for paramedics to aid him as Marina launched herself after him. Hershel stopped before the cars and settled down so that Luke could lay as one Scotland Yard constable pounded forwards and laid out a blanket for him to lay on. Hershel still kneeled before Luke, a gentle hand supporting his neck and chest as he saw the bulky figure of Inspector Chelmey race for him, tailed by Constable Barton.

“Layton! Did you find your boy?!” Chelmey barked, his voice raspy with age as he raced to Hershel. Marina was crouched at Hershel’s side, never leaving her husband for even a moment. Chelmey halted before the scene with Barton at his side, looking at first surprised to see Layton without his hat, and the older Inspector gave a deep gasp at the sight before him as he looked down at Luke.

“Blood ‘ELL! Is that...?”” Chelmey’s eyes widened with an almost mournful panic as he looked up at Hershel, expecting to hear that they had been to late.

“Yes, Inspector, this is Luke.” Hershel said, his voice thick with the sobs he had released just minutes prior. He drew in a deep gasp and his eyes bore seriously into the Inspector’s own. “He’s alive. I-I did as much as I could. P-please, get the paramedics, hurry.”

Chelmey nodded deeply, his eyes showing a smidge of soft emotion as he saw the emotional toll this had taken on Hershel, and the state of Luke. Hershel vaguely wondered if Chelmey felt the surreal feeling of Luke’s age as well, as if he still felt like a boy to him. He turned and let loose a louder bellow for paramedics than Hershel could ever muster, as Barton raced to notify them to bring the ambulance closer to the scene.

It was just minutes before paramedics were swarming the scene, beginning to load Luke up on a stretcher. Hershel finally but reluctantly left Luke’s side for just a moment as they loaded the unconscious man up into the yellow stretcher before he was back, trotting alongside the stretcher, searching Luke’s face as they stuck him with vital medical care. Marina pounced into the ambulance, glued to her husband’s side, and nobody approached her, even though they did not know initially she was his wife beside the expensive ring that shone on her finger. Before Hershel followed, he turned to Rosa.

“Oh, Hershel…” Rosa gasped, her eyes beginning to well up. “I’m so sorry for what has happened. I’m so, so sorry.”

Hershel forced a sad smile, tears threatening onto his face again. “Please do not worry yourself. Everything will be alright, Rosa… I know it will, it has to be.”

She smiled gently at him. “I know it will, Professor.” She breathed. “Luke is such a strong boy... I know he’s going to be alright.” Hershel nodded sadly and looked out towards the building with the sudden realization he had left his hat inside.

“Rosa, could you retrieve my hat from the building and take it back to my office? I left it in the cell.” He said, looking somberly at her for a moment.

“Of course, Professor. Are you and Marina going to be alright?” She asked, concern dotting her features.

“Have no fear, Rosa. I’ll look after Marina and I won’t be leaving Luke unless absolutely necessary. I know Flora and Emmy will want to hear of this as well, could you phone them?” He asked.

“Of course. You take care of your boy.” Rosa said, smiling. Hershel smiled back weakly at her, before he too loaded himself into the ambulance and came to sit on the bench at Luke’s other side. He was attached to many medical devices now, and was already showing slight signs of life, which made Hershel’s heart lurch with anticipation and relief. Marina was leaning over him, much to the dismay of the paramedic as she murmured his name and tried to rouse him. Hershel comforted her momentarily, although he too anxiously wanted Luke to open his eyes. Then, just as the ambulance began to move forwards and the sirens began to blare, Luke’s glazed blue eyes wearily opened after he stirred just a slight. Marina nearly wailed in relief and peppered her husband with comforting words, as Hershel gaped at his apprentice. Luke drowsily reached for Marina, coughing slightly with smudges of blood on his lips as the paramedic turned his head so he would not choke.

“M-Marina… I-I’m sorry…” Luke whispered weakly, embracing his wife best he could. It was clear he was extremely drowsy and wasn’t aware of much that was going on.

As the ambulance shook with movement, Hershel stayed put and continued to stare at Luke, tears returning to his face for the millionth time. He watched the exchange between Luke and Marina, before he finally made himself heard.

“Luke.” Hershel breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached forwards and placed a gentle hand in the boy’s hair. “Luke… look at me.”

Luke’s body flinched, almost convulsed, as if the familiarity of Hershel’s voice roused him more than ever. As fast as he could, the man turned his head until he was staring into Hershel’s face. Hatless and utterly tearful, two traits he had just barely witnessed as a boy.

“P-P-Pro-fess… Professor…?” Luke wheezed, his eyes widening and beginning to fill with tears from both pain and shock. “Y-you’re…”

“I’m here. I’m here, my boy. I came to get you, you’re going to be alright.” Hershel choked, leaning forwards a bit more. He stroked gently at Luke’s hair, looking his near-son in his eyes. Luke stared back, as if he felt he was in a dream.

“Pr-ofessor…” Luke rasped once more, suddenly beginning to reach for his mentor. Hershel leaned forward and embraced his apprentice the best he could in the state they were in, careful not to touch any medical devices. Luke shook and began to pitifully cry, almost identical to how he would as a little boy. Hershel held him close, fighting sobs himself.

“I’m here, dear boy. Stay with us.” Hershel said gently into Luke’s ear.

Luke slowly leaned back, but his hands were still reaching. Hershel took one gently and held it in both hands, breathing with repressed sobs as he stared at his apprentice, his little boy, his other half.

“You’re here… you and M-Marina, i-it’s really you…” Luke gasped, looking at him with tearful eyes as Marina reached forwards to hold him close to her. Luke’s tearful eyes searched his mentor’s face. “W-why…?”

Hershel was once again letting warm tears fall freely now as he brought Luke’s hand to his chest, as he said very softly, “I had to come and save my apprentice.”

[freefreakpanda-blog]

My Last Afternoon Dream “Wierd Dream About Demons And Ghost”

              I was writing this because i believe i don’t need to forget what i just saw in my dreams is about demons and ghost in my house that i need to cast away, so to do it i need to cast them out myself because in my dreams i am the only one who believe that we have demons in our house and i really really need to eradicate two of them yes it was two the first one is demon and the other one is ghost. so i remember first it was a conjuring book i don’t know who give it to me in my dreams but i remember she/he wearing black, the book is written with a black smaller letter than the title of the other book have and the cover was a fragile red. i dont know what happen after she/he gave it to me but i remember i found it in a sack behind the door when i am casting it out in my house and bringing it back to hell. so the second is the ghost it was a long hair man weating fragile red cloths but his skin is flayed and i can see his bone. it an arm bone with a some tissue particle with it, like it was fresh butchered hand bone and i was holding withour knowing where i find it. i’d just know i was holding it when i grabbed the ghost outside the house, it turns to be a hand bone. so how did i cast away the demons and ghost? i just tought i need a shreded shell with a red powder ( i don’t know what is the red poweder is) but i just know i need them to truely cast them away from my home. so this is the ritua i need someone to stand outside the house to hold by hand the shreded shells and the red powder and press it hard so that i can do the ritual, but the thing is i hardly find someone outside the house, but i find a gay boy in the constuction worker asking him to hold the things to do my ritual. but in my dreams i know that i don’t tell him about the demon and ghost that i need to cast away, because i know he was going to be scared so i just tell him that wait outside and press thos things and then i do the ritual, first i need to deal with the ghost and i find him easily because he show himself to me. then i have my knife with me i slash him and he shout very loud that the gay outside scared away and leave. and thats how i failed the first one i attempt. so i imagine what else can hold these things to me and i remember i have a friend so nearby in our house that i can see his house when i walk out the gate, so i come to him, i see his brother outside and him with his family inside the glass, then i knock two times. then he look at me like he was expecting me, and this second i attempt i tell him what i am going to do because i know him and i know i can count on him but i find out that he really hard for himself to close his hands and i don’t know why, but i trust him ang start the ritual but this time i used a bigger knife and the handle was made of gold. and i slash the bone ghost with my blade then he dissapear. and i know there still missing then i remember the book of demons, the conjuring book but i don’t know where to find it, then my cousin and i ask her about the book, then she pointed that the book that i was looking was just in sack of book behind the door of my bedroom, so i find it really fast and i find it. and when i find it i hear it speaking but i don’t know what it saying but then i started to slash it with a knife but it i only slicing the front page, so i use my hands to tear it apart and while im doing it the house was screaming like a bird and pig blending the sound like it was dying but i just tear it apart ang apart ang apart but i nearly half of it. then i woke up. sweating then i find the position in my house where i doing it and i look every where thinking that i didin’t kill the demon so maybe the demon will get angry with me and avenge me in real world.