#i just need to survive the next few weeks and hopefully it’ll be easier after

[sapphicsnzs]

if you’ve been keeping up with the shit show that has been my life lately i signed my lease and i have a place to live now!!! now i just have to move and get through finals🫠

[sierraraeck]

Bad Liar

Moreid (Spencer x Derek)

Masterlist

Summary: Ever since his first day at Quantico, Spencer has had only one thought on his mind: SSA Derek Morgan. He knows that any sort of relationship would be inappropriate, but that doesn’t stop the constant stream of fantasies from flooding his mind.

Category: Spicy fluff, smut alluded

Warnings: Non-graphic descriptions of sex, fantasizing, suggestive touching, kissing, very light cussing.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Bad Liar” by Selena Gomez. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. I know that I haven’t been very active and haven’t posted anything in a while, but sometimes life just happens. Hopefully this was worth the wait…

Spencer had heard the phrase “I never stop thinking about you.” He’d heard it in reference to love and relationships when people were apparently so madly in love they couldn’t stop thinking about the other. He never really bought that. Love was just a bunch of feel-good chemicals that couldn’t affect the amount of time spent thinking about another person. Plus, how could anyone ever constantly think about a person? There were so many other things to think about like surviving high school, getting into college, graduating, of course his mom, and then getting into the FBI, and how he would surely not be able to make it all the way through Quantico training. No one could ever think about one person all the time. No, definitely not.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

His first day at Quantico he saw Derek Morgan, and he realized that he was wrong. He was so utterly and outrageously wrong.

Because after he saw him, heard his voice just once, his exceptional mind kept those interactions on constant repeat.

He was lucky he was so good at multitasking otherwise he would have definitely failed by now.

Not like he still wouldn’t.

He couldn’t sleep, not with someone like Derek Morgan intruding his every thought, every midnight desire. On top of that, they were about to go into the hardest week of physical training yet, and Spencer knew that this was the one challenge that his brain could not overcome.

The one redeemable thing about the humiliating experience he was sure would come during the following days was that he’d get to see SSA Morgan again. Sure, it'd be more embarrassing to fail in front of him, but at least he’d get to see him a few more times before they kicked him out for being the scrawny kid he’s always been.

The feelings of excitement and anxiety twisted his gut into a wonderful knot, keeping him from yet another night of sleep. Somehow that made it both harder and easier for him to get up when the clock hit 4:45.

Spencer looked between two blinds covering the window on the right, allowing him to see that the sun was still about an hour from rising. Slipping on his given shirt and pants, he hoped that there would be some source of caffeine at breakfast, preferably coffee.

He trudged into the bathroom to find his roommate already awake and dressed. “Big day. You excited?” Jeff, a man about a head shorter than Spencer but at least twice his width in pure muscle mass, asked.

Spencer just grunted in response.

“What? You’re not excited to get pitted against someone else so that you can flail around in an attempt to spar?”

“I’ll stick to teaching you the technique,” he quipped.

Jeff laughed. “It’d suit you better. Unfortunately your wizard brain and forbidden library won’t help you in this one. But dammit if you aren’t the smartest guy here.” Jeff shook his head as if it were a shame.

Once they were ready, along with the rest of the NATs, the group was directed to jog across campus to the building they’d be training in. The day was off to a bad start.

Spencer did his best to distract himself from the actual running bit, trying to analyze the people in his group and those they passed as they went.

Bored, hungry, important, invisible… Derek?!

He turned his head to follow the tall man with short black hair and dark eyes as the group passed him on the sidewalk.

No, that wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. Agent Morgan is waiting for us at the facility.

Spencer tried to hide the slight disappointment that came over him. He felt so stupid for looking for him everywhere, but he couldn’t help it. Even his own knowledge and logic was failing him when it came to this man he knew next to nothing about expect for his shining smile and intense eyes and toned biceps and amazing abs and powerful legs and delicious stamina and strong hands that could grip his neck and hold him down and his defined hips bones that Spencer knew would dig into his thighs and certainly leave bruises if he were to…

What was his issue? He couldn’t be thinking that way about one of his trainors.

Although it helped the jog pass by faster. Time flies when you’re having fun, right? Or at least imagining having fun.

When they arrived at the other facility, they were provided a quick breakfast, unfortunately no coffee today, and then led to the top floor with an entire wall traded out for floor to ceiling windows.

The room they entered was massive, large mats rolled out edge to edge, and the smell was musty. It felt humid, sticky sort of, and Spencer hated to think about why that was.

He quickly scanned the room and found his target immediately. Across the way, Derek had his opponent mid flip, landing harshly on his back with a thud. He helped the poor guy up, laughing a bit as he did so. His pearly whites were on full display when he looked up and caught Spencer’s eye. Spencer quickly diverted his gaze, opting instead to look down at his twisting hands.

“Today we will be focusing on hand to hand combat,” Derek announced once the group had wandered closer. “You never know when the perpetrator will decide not to run and instead to attack you, or when you will find yourself without any weapons other than yourself to protect you. The first thing we are going to practice are some basic jabs. Grab a partner and follow our demonstration.”

Derek and the man he’d thrown on the ground earlier, Grant, demonstrated the seemingly simple movements that Spencer and the rest of the NATs were supposed to replicate. Of course, everyone else made it look easy, but Spencer just couldn’t wrap his head around what his arm was supposed to be doing where and when. It was frustrating, even more so than he’d prepared himself for.

“Keep your shoulders here,” that velvety deep voice said, accompanied by his large hands on either of Spencer’s shoulders, adjusting them to more of an angle.

All Spencer could do was swallow hard and nod. He didn’t even dare to look back at him.

“And spread your legs,” Derek said. His breath seemed to get closer to Spencer’s neck with every word, and quieter as he went along. But surely that was all in his head? Right?

Spencer’s startled eyes turned to look at the older man. The edges of his mouth twitched before resuming that stern, professional demeanour. “It’ll help you balance.” With that, he nudged Spencer’s foot farther backwards with his own and walked away, leaving Spencer feeling unnecessarily exposed and confused.

The guy across from him, Harold, one of the only people who had been genuinely nice to Spencer from the start, was watching the whole interaction with suspicion.

The day trudged on with not much change. Spencer’s skin was still on fire from where Agent Morgan had touched him, but he tried to convince himself it was because he didn’t really like being touched. He knew that was a lie, especially in this instance, but it didn’t stop him from telling it.

After lunch, training continued. But at least it got more interesting.

“Grant just got called out on a case, so I’ll be needing someone to help me with this demonstration.” Derek waited just about three whole seconds before smirking, the mischief written all over his face. “Come on? No one wants to volunteer? It’ll be fun, I promise.” When he was met with more silence (even the guys like Jeff didn’t want to be thrown around by Derek), he was forced to choose someone. “How about… Reid.”

Spencer’s head shot up from the back of the group. No, no, this is not good.

Spencer had been dreaming about getting thrown around by Derek for a few months now, but this was definitely not what he’d had in mind.

The crowd slowly parted and Spencer had to face the music; he was going to be humiliated in front of everyone, like nothing had changed since high school.

Sighing, Spencer forced himself to the front of the group. “Lay down for me, knees bent, would you?”

I’d do anything you asked, was Spencer’s initial response in his head. What he really did was shrug and follow instructions.

“The reason we practice this move is because at some point or another, you will find yourself in either position.” Spencer wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that until Derek legitimately stood over him, a leg on either side, then proceeded to get down on his knees, essentially sitting on top of Spencer.

He couldn’t even focus on what Derek was explaining anymore. Breathing didn’t exist. There was no way this glorious man was sitting on top of him right now. All he could think about was how prominent Derek’s ab muscles were through his tight shirt and how he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and run his tongue over them. Spencer could almost imagine what they would feel like; the rise and fall of his muscles, the small hairs covering his body… Spread your legs, he had said to him.

“So then Reid would grab my wrist…” Derek’s use of his name brought him back to reality. If only he could live in his fantasies for longer.

Spencer looked up at Agent Morgan confused. Derek’s eyes got wider and looked at his right hand and then down at his own left wrist. Spencer somehow got the message and reached his hand over to grab a hold of Derek’s wrist. “Good,” he declared. “After that, he would hook his left foot on the outside of my ankle.”

Spencer quickly followed orders, trying to force his brain to supply him with the information he’d missed.

“Then, he’d use my weight against me to flip me over.” Spencer’s eyes got big when Derek said that, mentally panicking that he could never be strong enough for that. Derek nodded at him, so Spencer tried to roll over, and to his, and everyone else’s, surprise, he actually could.

Within seconds Spencer was sitting on top of a very pleased Derek. “It’ll work every time. Of course, if your unsub is skilled he’ll lock you in and flip you back over and potentially pull your arm out of your socket,” Derek explained while doing just that to Spencer, minus the arm-out-of-socket thing, “But we’ll take this one step at a time.”

Derek was back on top of Spencer with his legs wrapped around him in a vice-like grip, but quickly let go to help him up. Spencer gladly accepted the help.

Spencer doesn’t exactly have what one would consider a “big dick.” He always thought that was something to be ashamed of but standing there, getting hard in the middle of an FBI training academy, he couldn’t’ve be more grateful.

The NATs were sent back to work on the newly demonstrated move with their partners. Just as Spencer was about to flip Harold over for the third time, he looked over his head and rolled his eyes.

“What?” Spencer asked.

“What is it with you two?” Harold asked in return.

“What?” Spencer repeated. Harold nodded in the direction he was just looking, and Spencer followed his gaze. Derek was walking by, but nothing else seemed of import. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please,” Harold snorted. He was a lanky man like Spencer, but just a bit shorter and with glasses. Sometimes Spencer envied his glasses, as his contacts often got on his nerves. He continued, “The touching, the constant eye contact, the word choice that could be inherently sexual, and then literally sitting on top of you? When there were plenty of other men and women he could have picked for that demonstration? Tell me you don’t see it.”

Spencer mulled over these words for a few seconds before flipping Harold over. Looking down on him, he said, “I don’t think that means anything.”

“Then maybe you need to get a new prescription,” Harold said, pointing to his eyes.

Spencer shook his head. “What do my eyes have to do with this?”

Harold sighed. “God, your gaydar is so broken.” He flipped Spencer over, stood up, and walked away.

Shortly after, class was called and they were all let go for the remainder of the evening.

“Reid, can I speak to you for a moment?” Agent Morgan called out as the first of the NATs started to leave. A few caught Spencer’s eye with unanswered questions in them, but no more than the mound of questions Spencer had been asking himself.

Without answering, Spencer walked over to the corner of the room that Derek was standing in. He could tell that he was waiting for every single person to leave the room before speaking.

Spencer thought for sure he was getting kicked out because of how horribly he performed throughout the day.

To his surprise, that’s not at all what the outstandingly attractive man had to say. “I wanted to let you know that you did a good job today during the demo. Not many people handle that so well.”

Spencer waited for him to say more, but nothing more seemed to be coming. Derek actually seemed a bit nervous if Spencer could read him right. He replied cautiously, “Thanks.”

Derek cleared his voice and said, “Yeah. And if you ever want to stay late and work on some moves I’d be happy to help.”

Spencer just got more and more confused as his interactions with this god-like man increased. “Thanks,” he repeated. “Why are you offering to help me like that?”

Agent Morgan shrugged. “You’re one of the smartest people in FBI history to come through here, and definitely the youngest. There’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t become an agent, and I want to see you succeed. That’s all.” He shrugged again, and if there was anything Spencer had learned from the profiling section of his training, someone being over-casual was usually a sign that they were stressed about something they viewed with extreme importance, and were trying to play it off. Why would he be stressed to talk to me?

“I guess I’ll take you up on that offer. Will you be here tomorrow?” Spencer asked, trying to mask the hope in his voice. Who was he kidding; Derek was already one of the top profilers in the Bureau.

“I will be. You can plan to stay after then.”

Spencer nodded and walked away, but not before glancing back one more time. Harold was right; they did make a lot of eye contact.

The next day couldn’t go by faster. Spencer had spent practically the entire night thinking about everything that had happened, trying to figure out if Harold was right or not. There was no way. Spencer was just Spencer, a NAT, and Derek Morgan was, well… Derek Morgan.

He probably just thought that Spencer was a hopeless case and needed extra help. Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

When the day was over, Spencer wasn’t just relieved like he usually was, but he was excited too. It no longer mattered to him what the reason was for him being there late, he just wanted to spend more time in the presence of SSA Morgan.

“I was thinking I’d help you with that second move we learned today, the cross-punch jab combo,” Derek announced. His voice echoed just a bit off the walls of the training center now that it was completely abandoned.

He walked over to one of the punching bags lined up just a few feet from the wall, and Spencer followed him in a manner that could only be described as a lost puppy. Spencer could keep track of all sorts of numbers, but the sheer amount of repeating memories morphing into new thoughts morphing into full blown fantasies was even too high for him to count. He’d never known of a drug so powerful.

“I’ll show you the move again, then I want you to try and copy it.” Derek stepped closer to the bag and executed a textbook one-two combo, the muscles in his arms and back contracting in perfect unison. God, Spencer wanted so badly to just reach out and run his hands all over this pristinely sculpted man, but he denied himself, letting his hands tremble in place instead.

Spencer stepped up to the bag next to Derek’s and attempted to do the same thing. Derek watched with a sharp eye.

After a few reps, the skilled agent took long strides that landed him only inches away from the younger man’s back. “Keep tension here.” His hands engulfed Spencer’s waist and twisted them to the side with the ease of swatting a fly.

The feeling was so overwhelming Spencer thought he might never be able to move again, and honestly, he didn’t want to. Standing there in the grip of that man was really all he’d been wanting for months now.

The only thing that pulled him out of his trance was the way Derek’s fingers lingered as he walked around to Spencer’s front, drifting down far enough to send a clear message, one that even Spencer couldn’t miss, but not far enough to be completely intrusive.

But Spencer wanted intrusive. He wanted nothing more than for Derek Morgan to invade his personal space to the point of no return.

He looked at the older man with shock and a burning question, but didn’t flinch or move back. Derek simply bit his lip and scanned Spencer up and down at what felt like a snail’s pace. He felt like a helpless deer being sized up by a lion for his next meal.

Spencer swallowed hard.

He’d been wanting nothing more than to be in this very same situation, or one of the multitudes of variations he’d created in his mind, but now that it was here could he really go through with it? Was it really the best idea? Did he really want this? No, he couldn’t.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

The only signal Derek needed was the simple nod of Spencer’s head.

And he got it.

Like a snake ready to strike, Derek brought his lips to Spencer’s in an instant. His questioning fingers had an answer, returning to their strong hold over Spencer’s hip bones.

Spencer knew what was happening was completely inappropriate, but couldn’t find the will to care. The man he’d been dreaming about, spending every waking and non-waking moment obsessing over, was actually interested in him too.

All his fantasies were flashing before his eyes, Derek’s muscles now completely exposed to him. He frantically pawed at him, trying to feel and memorize every millimeter of the beautiful body before him, like every inch was another drop of water in his achingly dry mouth.

“Hey, hey,” Derek whispered. “Patience. Not everything can happen at once, remember, one step at a time.”

Spencer took a moment to breathe and look into the warm eyes he’d been drowning in. Only for a moment, though, as he had a lot he wanted to do, starting with kissing his way down this man’s chest.

Derek laughed a little at Spencer’s impatience when he placed his hands on his broad shoulders and lips on his burning hot skin. He didn’t mind, though. Unexpectedly, the young man knew how to use his mouth. He couldn’t wait to explore that particular skill set some more.

Within the next few minutes, bodies were slammed into walls, forced to the ground, and pushed further down into the floor than was previously thought possible. The echo of the room only amplified the intoxicating sounds and the wall of windows overlooking the campus only increased the arousal.

Spencer would have a new appreciation for the musty smell and sweat induced humidity in the room from now on.

The tension for the remaining month before the NATs graduated was unbearable. Harold made sure to point out the nauseating amount of glances passed between the two men, but was respectful enough to not point it out to everyone. He tried to deny anything had happened, but Harold wasn’t having any of it and let Spencer know he was a lousy liar, something he definitely needed to work on.

Come graduation day when all NATs would be receiving their department assignments, Derek made sure to personally hand Spencer his.

He carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper with one bolded line reading: “Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Spencer immediately looked up and locked eyes with Derek. He simply smirked in return.

Maybe his fantasy of having something more with the agent would become a reality after all.

-

Taglist

@90spumkin

[inkformyblood]

stay interested (in what comes back)

Day 01 Clan of Three for @dincobbweek Summary: Cobb never expected to hear from the Mandalorian after he leaves, but then the first letter arrives... The first letter arrives a few days after Mando and the kid leaves, and it sits unopened on Cobb’s shelf for several days before he can bring himself to open it. 

The courier — a young woman named Tai with a constellation of freckles across her cheeks and forehead and close-cropped black hair — presses it into his hands with a knowing grin. Her clothes are worn from the speeder ride around Tatooine, sand clinging to them so that she appears to be part of the desert made flesh. 

“If you want to send anything back,” she says, pausing in her swaying walk back to her bike, turning to look over her shoulder towards him. “Just leave it in the usual box. I’ll be back round in two weeks.” 

She grins and Cobb catches sight of a new banner tied around her waist: a striped cloth in browns and golds and undeniably Tusken, but it tears the breath from his lungs before he can respond. She hops back onto her bike and is gone.

Everywhere he turns, he is reminded of Mando and the kid, and just when he had pushed the other man from his mind with practised unnerving ease, the letter arrived.

The material is well-made, smooth to the touch except for the small crumpled swell in the centre, and the seal is neat but plain. Cobb brushes his fingers over the markings — a smaller line that flares out into a small peak with a notched end next to a hooked line — and places the letter down, willing his thoughts to turn away from it.

But it remains like a stone digging into the soft skin in the arch of his foot or a shard caught in his teeth.

So Cobb opens it, after one trip too many past it, his gaze locking onto it and the burning curiosity courses through him again.

A crumpled picture on pale brown paper spills out, the edges ragged and torn, and Cobb recognises it as the unmarked side of a help wanted notice. They are common enough in Tatooine that Cobb flips it to the other side to inspect the details before allowing himself to take in the hand-drawn picture.

It was one of theirs, he realises, smoothing out the creases that distort Mos Pelgo’s desperate plea for help. Why had he chosen this? Cobb was well versed in backhanded insults and thinly veiled threats. He had learned to be. The scars that span his back and thighs still ache with the memory of the burning whip and each one is a testament to what he survived.

Mando didn’t strike him as that sort of man. Cobb had seen the way he had curved towards the kid, always half stretched out to brush fingertips across his skull as if he was caught in orbit. Cobb liked to think he was a good judge of character and even when Mando had bared his metaphorical teeth at him, Cobb knew he was a good man.

So, he reasons that the paper was likely convenient rather than a reminder of a debt owed, and flips it back over. A huge white shape dominates the right-hand side of the page broken up by the jagged edges of what Cobb realises are teeth. Next to it are two crudely drawn stick figures, one broader and grey but clearly wearing a helmet with a T shaped visor and the other taller and shakily drawn, featureless except for a red triangle at its throat. Next to the two is a smaller circle in green with two triangles for ears inside a floating grey circle.

It’s the three of them, and a Kraft dragon.

Cobb smooths it out as best he can, his heart twisting and constricting in his chest, threatening to choke him. The other item in the letter is smaller. It rolls when Cobb fumbles while drawing it from the envelope, slipping through his fingers and clattering onto the floor. He drops to his knees, cursing his own uncooperative hands and the protest of his knees, the sharp flare of pain dulling to an ache that would haunt him for a few days.

The ring is cool to the touch and is perfectly sized for his thumb. Cobb doesn’t let his thoughts linger on that, focusing on the careful engraving of segmented bone upon bone instead of the remembered press of Mando’s hand in his, surprisingly warm given the chill of the night air, the slight hesitancy as if expecting Cobb to pull away from him.

He slips it onto his thumb, tacks the picture up on the main wall in his section of the house, and returns to work. A letter detailing their efforts and professing his thanks, along with all the unmarked scrap paper he can find and pencils scavenged from the passing traders that the school doesn't need anymore finds its way into the courier dropbox and is away before Cobb can talk himself out of it.

He just hopes he has made the right choice. 

The arrival of a second picture — the same lopsided circle-shaped child drawn in greens and browns and two stick figures, one grey and one brown with red at its throat beneath a sky that burst with all the colours of a fistfight — confirms he was right. The note that comes with it is brief but Cobb traces his fingers over the hesitant letters. Thank you. 

⁂

The shadow at the end of Cobb’s hallway shifts as he steps closer, his blaster held ready by his side. “Wasn’t sure you’d be coming here, Mando. Glad to see I was wrong.”

Mando’s laugh sounds wrong, too sharp at the edges and echoing slightly. Cobb takes another step closer, his gaze dropping to search the lighter shadows by the other man’s feet, looking for the huddle of fabric and large eyes of the kid. 

“He had to go back to his people.” Mando sounds broken, his voice flat, and Cobb knows that feeling only too well. It draws you down, down into its depths, until you can’t remember what it felt like to believe in something or to care about another person. He steps closer despite himself, one hand stretching out to try and offer what comfort he could when he stops. 

Dark curls, close cropped and unevenly cut, greet Cobb’s gaze, brushing against the edge of Mando’s beskar, his helmet held loosely in one hand. His heart lodges in his throat, remembering the way Mando had recoiled when Cobb had taken off the helmet of the borrowed armour, his hope dying in an instant. 

“I’m guessing a lot has happened since your last letter.” Cobb doesn’t look at Mando further, navigating with the edges of his vision, sliding his feet across the floor as he hooks his arm around Mando’s waist. The man freezes before curling into him with a wounded noise ripping from his throat. “Come on and sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

“Didn’t know where else to go.” Mando sighs, his feet leaden, but he goes where Cobb leads. His skin was as cold as his beskar, gritty with sand that rasped against Cobb’s palm. “Knew it would be safe here.”

“Ain’t that a good endorsement,” Cobb murmurs, trying to ignore the swell of emotion the words created in his chest. The gap in letters had troubled him more than he wanted to admit and Tai had taken to stopping by his house first on her rounds so he wouldn’t waste more time waiting for her, only to be disappointed once again.

“It’s true.” Mando turns to watch him, and Cobb keeps his gaze fixed forward. The other man is shorter than him, folding into the curve of his chest as if he had been made to fit there, and he catches a glimpse of dark eyes before they move into his bedroom and Mando’s gaze snaps to the wall. “Oh.”

He sways, no longer leaning on Cobb for support, but clinging to him like a lifeline, and Cobb chances smoothing a hand along the curve of his hip, leaning down to blindly knock his temple to the other man’s. “You will see your kid again, Mando. He loves you.”

“He talked about you too.” Mando’s words rumble through him, his voice cracking and breaking. “Always drawing you. We were going to come back before— before—”

“He’s a sweet kid. Takes after his daddy, I reckon.”

Mando laughs at that, a helpless exhalation, and Cobb chuckles along with him. 

“Now, go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning,” Cobb continues, nudging Mando towards the bed. It is unmade, the blankets twisted too high, exposing the pale sheet beneath, but he doesn’t have time to reconsider it as Mando falls onto it as if his strings were cut. 

“Skywalker took my child,” Mando mutters into the sheets and Cobb freezes, old familiarity washing over him, his thoughts turning towards an old datapad stored in a small chest in the corner and the contact details hidden within. 

“Sleep, Mando. It’ll do you some good.” Cobb waits until the man’s breath levels out, falling into the deep easy rhythm of sleep before turning to inspect the wall. The most recent picture from the child catches his eye — the figure of Cobb and Mando on either side of the kid, their hands overlapping, beneath Tatooine's twin suns — and his hands curl into fitsts. He knows what he has to do. 

The datapad hums as it turns on, the screen cracked and blurred, but Cobb navigates through it easily, old memories coming back to him. 

‘Skywalker? Been a while, but did you just pick up a Mandalorian’s kid and not leave any contact details?’

The reply is quick, and Cobb squints at the screen, his mouth moving soundlessly as he reads through the misspellings and laughs to himself when he finishes. Three days travel away, and Mando would see his son again. Three days of Cobb living with the man he was hopelessly in love with as he helped him restore the balance to his family. This was going to be difficult, but, hopefully, easier than killing the dragon. 

[giftofwonder]

The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader) - Part Four

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and for all of your support! Please let me know what you think, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list just let me know.

WARNINGS: Nothing graphic, just mentions of sex, murder and dismemberment.

TAGLIST: @mikasackrmann @missalicebaskerville @liitlesushi @bonemarroww @jamaisvusbitch @winchescumberholland @mira-mirach @babayaga67 @iiashleysykes

Much of your time left in the afterlife was spent the same, with you wrapped around Dabi or the both of you lounging in his bed.

The fear of knowing you would likely never see him again had mixed with the longing for both the pleasure and the feelings that he drew from you.

You felt so strongly for him, it was new and unfamiliar, but you welcomed it. You had never felt so warm, so safe and peaceful, as you did in his arms. You feared you were addicted to it, already you wondered how you could go the rest of your life without him. The thought had crossed your mind many times that you should stop and push him away, that you were getting yourself tangled too deeply into a mess, but those thoughts were fleeting, weak in comparison to the desire you felt. It was beyond something physical, you craved him in his entirety.

You wondered if you added your name to the walls of his tomb, would it bring you back to him when you died? Perhaps you would go the rest of your life without him, but then could be together again in the end. A bittersweet idea.

Your thoughts were cut short as Dabi looked over, lifting himself slightly from his relaxed position in bed.

“Is there anything else you want to know before I ask you for the second favor?”

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah, actually, why is your tomb so different? I’ve never heard of any set up like how yours is.”

“The tomb where you first entered was by my design, what I requested to have done. I had thought the burial chamber was a standard one. It was only after I died that I realized they had made a second tomb. I don’t know who crafted it, someone who must have held a grudge against me.” He answered.

“What was the point of it?” You asked.

“To trap me. Normally, you can pass through the false door of your tomb. When someone comes, it allows you to enter inside and visit with them, but because they made the second tomb, I can’t leave from it. That’s what all of those marking are along the cut outs in the wall. Seals, to bind me to the room.” He said.

“It’s also a way to spite me. The false door was carved in my image, with my scars. If not for that, I’d have looked as I did before.” His tone was growing bitter.

“What if we break the seals?” You asked hopefully.

“We could try, but I doubt it would work. Those seals were placed with strong magic. They have some type of enchantment on them. Whatever spell they used, I’m sure it won’t be easy to break.” Dabi said with a sigh.

You frowned at that. You wanted so badly to help him.

“Don’t worry, princess. When you do my second favor, it’ll be better than breaking the seals.” He grinned.

You rolled into him, resting your head on his shoulder as your arm relaxed across his stomach and chest.

“What do I need to do?” You asked, turning your head to place a kiss on his skin.

“After i was killed, I was mummified by my men. Before I could be buried properly, someone took my remains to a witch, probably the same one who carved the seals in the tomb.” He started and you looked up at him, listening intently.

“You’re familiar with the story of Osiris and Isis?” He asked and you nodded.

__________________________________________

Osiris’s Myth:

The god Osiris was brought to Egypt to be king. He was a good ruler who was both loved and respected by all. His brother, Seth, was jealous of his power and made a plan to kill his brother and take over the throne.

Seth snuck into Osiris and Isis’s bedroom one night and measured Osiris while he slept. He had a chest crafted with his brothers measurements.

Seth then threw a party, with Osiris as the guest of honor. They played a game at Seth’s request, whoever could fit into the chest perfectly would get to keep it.

After Seth’s friends all took their turns, they finally convinced Osiris to try. He climbed in and was a perfect fit. The lid was slammed shut and sealed, and then the chest was dumped into the Nile river, knowing Osiris wouldn’t be able to survive.

Isis heard of her husbands death and rushed to find the chest. Finally, after a few days of searching, she found it and pulled Osiris from it. She hid his body in the tall river grass, as she didn’t want Seth to find the body before she could do the proper rituals so that Osiris could pass on to the afterlife.

Late that night, Seth returned to the river. He found Osiris’s body in the grass and was furious. He cut Osiris into fourteen pieces and hurled them all across Egypt to make sure they were never found.

The next morning, Isis, along with her sister and friends, returned to the river to perform the rituals only to find her husband’s body gone.

Isis transformed into a huge bird and flew over Egypt, using her sharp eyesight to find all of his body parts.

With the help of Nepthys, Thoth and Anubis, she was able to perform a miracle. They sewed all of the pieces together and wrapped Osiris head to toe in strips of linen, creating a mummy.

On the night of the full moon, Isis used powerful magic to bring him back to life. He told her he couldn’t stay long and that he needed to travel to the world of the dead, where he would become King of the Afterlife.

Osiris told Isis not to worry as she was pregnant and would have a son who would get revenge on Seth.

Their son Horus was born, and kept hidden away from his uncle until he came of age. Once Horus did, he and Seth fought. Horus won and took the throne, while Seth was banished from Egypt forever.

__________________________________________

“When I died, the rituals were completed so I was able to pass onto the Afterlife, but my body was cut up and hidden, the same as they did to Osiris. I need you to be my Isis.” Dabi said, his tone almost desperate as he looked deep into your eyes.

“You need me to find all of your body parts? What do I do with them?” You asked perplexed.

“Bring them to me, leave them here in the tomb.” His warm breath fanned your face.

“How will I find them?” You asked.

“I will help guide you. I know I was cut into six pieces, and I know the general locations. Beyond that, you must find them yourself.” He told you, and you nodded hesitantly.

“What if I can’t find them?” You whispered.

“That’s not an option, doll.” He said, stroking your hair.

You sighed and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I’ll do my best. But, when you have them, what will happen?”

“That’s a surprise, but trust me, it’s a good one.” Dabi said with confidence. He sounded happy, maybe even a bit smug. You didn’t question him, though. You were far too interested to see what would come of it. He was a man of many mysteries, after all. He had shown you things you never thought possible, and they had all turned out well for you. You really did trust him.

At the end of the day, Dabi took you back to the tomb. What you wore when you first arrived had been washed in the river a few days prior, and already you were missing the clothing he had given you that mirrored his own.

You both stepped through the portal and while nothing had visibly changed, you knew you were back in the world of the living. Dabi had told you the general locations for where to find his body and you had written them down, the note folded in your pocket.

You turned to face him, sadness was radiating from you. He chuckled and pulled you close to him, his lips meeting yours.

“Go home and rest. You can start the search tomorrow and I’ll be here waiting for you to return.” He said against your lips.

You kissed him deeper, trying to savor the feeling of him in case things didn’t go as planned. You were worried that once you left the tomb, he would be gone, out of your grasp for good. In the two weeks you had spent with him, you feared that you may have fallen in love.

Reluctantly, you parted from him and said goodbye, sparing him a final glance as you made your way up and out of the tomb.

__________________________________________

The next morning, you woke early and went to make your case to get an extension on the project. You told them of the second tomb, of the foreign inscriptions inside and the strange contrast between both chambers. You told them how it was unlike anything you had ever seen.

They agreed, their interest peaked, and you were graced with funding to last another season. They said you should receive it in about a week, and you thanked them and left.

You met with your team, explaining what you had found and the exciting news of the project continuing. They all cheered loudly as you told them the work would resume in a weeks time. You gave them all a share of the last of the funding and told them to take the week to spend with their families.

They thanked you and left to celebrate. You kept the last of the funding, and set out to complete your favor.

You went to a stand you used rather frequently and rented a dune buggy to take you across the desert. You loaded your tools in the back and started on your way. You had checked the note often, although it felt like more of a riddle than a guide. You spent hours in the hot sun searching, and though your skin was covered, the heat was unforgiving.

The first three locations were easier to find than you thought they would be. Two of them were caves, half buried with sand, but still noticeable enough for you to spot from a distance. Both of them had been rather deep, one was built into a large area of rocks and sand while the other was much closer to the city, half hidden in a thicket of shrubs and trees. In both caves, you had found the limbs in the back, though it had taken a great deal of time moving rocks and looking for things out of place.

The other was hidden in the crevice of a cliff side. You had managed to climb up, and thankfully keep your footing, to dig it out from where it was hidden between the sharp rocks. The passage it was slipped in was so narrow that only your arm would fit inside. It had taken you six trips up the cliff to find it as you searched for rocks in a “triangular layout” as Dabi had described. It all had honestly looked the same to you, but you were just glad you managed to find it. With it, you found a small bag, and inside were a few small bones and gems. You furrowed your brow, but took it with you nonetheless.

You circled back and left them in Dabi’s tomb, unaware of the evil grin that warped his face in the chamber below.

The first three pieces had taken you two days total to find. The last three took you until the end of the week, but finally you had collected them all. His note had sent you on a wild goose chase around the desert, digging though old dried out river beds and dunes, and one had been buried under a tree that grew near the Nile river. You had spent a day and a half inspecting every tree for carvings that matched the ones in Dabi’s tomb.

You were so tired, feeling like you could collapse, and your muscles burned from all of the labor you’d endured. You were glad to help Dabi and eager to see the surprise, but at this point you really were just glad you were done. In the frustration of your scavenger hunt you had briefly debated giving up.

You dropped off the last of the limbs and then went to return the vehicle. Once you were done, you came back to the tomb and went inside, carefully taking the body parts down to Dabi.

You found him inside, waiting for you as you brought down the last piece.

You had laid them out properly, and as you stood, Dabi pulled you to him, kissing you with a bruising pressure. You moaned into his mouth and he pulled back, his eyes soft as they trailed over your face.

“You asked me before if I regretted never marrying.” He stated, and you nodded.

“I don’t. Fate brought you to me, I was meant to have you.” He said while brushing his lips against yours, his vibrant eyes glowing in the dim light.

You pushed forward, pulling him into another kiss, his words repeating in your mind as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You thought it was rather morbid, the idea of sex while his corpse was so close, but he took you there in the tomb and you didn’t protest. You were smitten with him, hopelessly in love with a ghost. But the way he felt on your skin, inside of you, it was perfect, and you couldn’t blame yourself. You knew in the back of your mind that even if you could do it all over, you would still find yourself back at this very point.

When you were finished, you dressed quickly, trying to compose yourself. Dabi told you to go up and wait for the surprise that he had promised. You did as he asked, climbing up to go sit by the entrance of the tomb, staring at the carvings on the walls, waiting for him to call you back down.

Eventually, sleep took you as you rested against the door that had been put up to secure the tomb.

You awoke to the feeling of a hand grabbing your thighs and parting them quickly, and a heat warming the front of your body. Your eyes opened to see Dabi kneeling in front of you, a wide grin on his face.

“How are you here?” You gasped excitedly, your hands running along his body as if to make sure he was really there.

“It worked! I’m alive!” He laughed, cupping your cheeks and kissing you. It felt the same as his spirit’s touch, and yet it wasn’t. It was different in a way you couldn’t quite place, but it felt just as good. Perhaps even better. Your hand buried itself in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Careful, princess. I have half a mind to take you again right here.”

You sighed, a faint “please” leaving your lips. When the haze cleared from your mind, you trailed your fingers gently down his face.

“You’re really alive?” You wondered aloud, and he nodded.

“How?”

“I have...an agreement with the Gods. That’s all I can say.” He told you, then sat back, looking you over before adding, “I have another favor to ask you.”

“So needy.” You whispered with a grin and he smiled.

“I need clothes...from your time.” He said.

It was only then that you realized his state of undress. You supposed you didn’t notice at first because the sight of him naked had become a regular occurrence to you in your time spent with him.

You nodded, telling him to wait here and that you would find him something. You peeled yourself away from him and left the tomb, heading to the city to find a clothing shop.

You browsed around, searching for things that looked like they could fit his thinner frame as you had no idea what size he wore. You found a couple pairs of sweat pants, some sandals, a few tee shirts, a hoodie and a jacket.

Figuring it would be good enough, you paid and left quickly, hurrying back with your purchases and found Dabi right where you had left him. He thanked you while quickly putting on the clothes, then left the tomb with you, hand in hand.

You led him from the desert to the edge of the city, pointing things out along the empty streets as you went. His eyes were wide in amazement as he tried to absorb everything.

You both boarded a bus that would take you to the area where you were living. Dabi’s eyes lit up in wonder at the world around him, but he kept his questions to himself. This world was unfamiliar to him, and he would rather ask you his building list of questions in private where it was safe. He didn’t want to arouse suspicion.

When the bus stopped, you both exited and headed a few blocks over to the place you called home. Once the door was shut behind you, Dabi took off around the small apartment investigating everything, and you laughed, his behavior reminding you of a child.

He asked many questions, and you found it extremely cute when he was in awe of the refrigerator.

Your apartment was in an extended stay hotel. It was cheaper than the actual apartments in the area, and you didn’t have to pay for things like internet or utilities. Plus there was no lease, you just paid month to month.

It was nice enough there, and as you weren’t home much, it was really all you needed. It wasn’t in the most beautiful condition, and the area it was located in was questionable, but you figured it kept the cost low so it was a compromise you were willing to make.

You suggested a bath to Dabi, who happily obliged. You ran the shower first to rinse yourself off. Dabi tried to get in with you, but you stopped him, afraid of the water hurting where his scars and staples met skin.

Once you finished rinsing, you turned the shower head toward the wall and beckoned Dabi in. You got a cloth damp and carefully rinsed him with it. He watched you, an unknown feeling swelling in his chest.

Dabi truly was fond of you, and he was honest when he said you were meant for him. You were his. Watching you rinse him so delicately, the kindness you offered, only solidified his feelings. Love was not something he had received, and if he was being truthful, he wasn’t even sure if it was a concept he could ever fully grasp, but he knew what he wanted.

He wanted you. Marriage hadn’t been a priority before, but things were different now that he had a second chance at life. He knew you would be his wife. His thoughts continued as you washed him. He imagined your stomach swollen, heavy with his child, and he felt his arousal grow and almost groaned at the thought.

You told Dabi to stand back for a moment, and you took the shower head down and rinsed the bottom of the tub to clear away the excess dirt that had gathered there. Then you started the bath, Dabi sitting against the back of the tub and you scooting between his spread legs, relaxing against his chest.

Dabi had plans, things he needed to do now that he was back in the world of the living, but he could almost forget them with you here pressed against him. He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, cherishing the feeling of peace that you gave to him.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

one day, a horn grew from my head (part one)

Beetlejuice, but BJ is more visibly demonic, there’s world building for the Netherworld, and he has a partner helping him...

--------------------

- the whole being dead thing! -

A blue truck rattled up the gravel path, racing to beat the storm beginning to brew up in the sky. Rain was already starting to come down, drizzling over the clouds of dust kicked up by the tires. The headlights shone on the wall of an old house in the distance. From the darkness of the surrounding greenery, sharp teeth spread in a wide grin.

  “It’s almost time,” said the demon. “Took ‘em long enough. I thought he’d never get back.”

There was stirring at his side. He lightly whacked the figure next to him. His suit was sopped with rainwater, making the sleeves dangly and heavy as they hung around his wrists. It was odd to be in such merciless weather after having to deal with the acid rain back down in the Netherworld. Sometimes he couldn’t help but turn his head up to the downpour and let it run over his face in refreshing waves of coolness without it feeling like his flesh was melting off of his skull.

When his partner didn’t get up, he lightly poked her in the ribs with a claw. She squealed.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s time to wake up.”

The mud-slathered, blood-stained young demon sat up straight from her curled position against his side. She blinked, and the moonlight caught on her bright hazel eyes, making them glow.

  “He’s here,” the larger demon pointed a black-clawed finger at the parked truck and the figure walking to the front door.

The smaller demon flicked her comically large pointy ears at the vehicle, then looked back up at him, eyes shining. A moth landed on one of her horn nubs.

The larger of the two smirked again, alligator teeth flashing. “It’s showtime, kid. Let’s put this plan into action.”

  “So, crazy story,” Adam began, taking off his rain-spattered coat. “I got all the way to Howard’s store, and Howard tells me they’re all out of stock.”

  “Oh no,” Barbara vocalized her dismay.

  “But I asked Howard Junior to check the back for me--”

  “Smart.”

  “--so he sends little Howard the Third and long story short, I got the last bottle of Manchurian tung oil!”

  “That’s great!” Barbara beamed. “Now you can finally finish the crib?”

  “Yup!” Adam said, ripping off the cloth of a shiny, wood-carved crib. It was his pride and joy in a strange sort of woodworking way. “It should be ready before the O'Brien’s baby gets here!”

  “She had it yesterday.”

Adam blinked. “Oh. Well--” He fumbled for just a moment. “Doesn’t matter! They’ll get it soon! They can put the baby in the…sink…in the meantime!”

Barbara laughed. It was a sweet, high sound that made Adam’s heart flutter.

  “That’s definitely a place to put a newborn,” Barbara said.

  “It’s round!” Adam said. “It can hold an infant. Plus, it doubles as a bathtub, so you can kill two birds with one stone!”

Barbara chuckled. She was shining one of her newest pottery jugs- her latest hobby. Last week it was painting. The week before that it was embroidery. And the week before that it was composting. He wondered how long this interest would last.

As Adam was shining one of the bars of the crib, rubbing his thumb over the pristine wood, he said, “Maybe we can keep it for ourselves.”

Barbara dropped her jug and it shattered into a thousand orange shards. Adam jumped, nearly ripping the bar right off of the crib. He stood up quickly.

  “Are you alright?” he sputtered.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Barbara said, haphazardly rushing for the broom. She began sweeping up the broken pieces of clay, then peered over at Adam. “What would we use a crib for?”

  “You know…” Adam gestured vaguely.

  “A baby,” Barbara smiled softly.

Adam smiled, too. “Yeah.”

  “I mean…we do have this whole house,” Barbara said.

  “It is a big house,” Adam nodded.

  “And we already have a minivan.”

  “A minivan is a family car.”

They smiled dreamily, imagining what it would be like to have a baby in their household, babbling adorably, snoozing in their arms, calling them “mama” and “dada”, having toys everywhere, getting in danger as they crawled around, crying, hating them when they grew up… 

Adam swallowed thickly. He shifted, and the floorboards creaked below him. “Oh!” He pointed to the ground. “But-- but the floor! Listen to this creaking!” He stepped, and it creaked again, perfectly on time. “We can’t have a family with floors like this! It can be a safety hazard!”

Barbara nodded energetically. She put the broom away and began walking over. “You are absolutely right! Someone could get hurt!”

  “Yeah! And we don’t want that to happen!”

  “Not at all!”

  “We have to do something about it before we have our own baby.”

  “Among other things. We have to baby proof this whole house!”

  “Yes! Great idea! We should get on that as soon as possible!”

  “You’re so right! As soon as possible! So we can get on that baby right away afterw--”

There was then an awful shriek, and Adam realized it came from below as the wood seemed to fold inwards, dropping he and his wife into the darkness below the house. The last thing he remembered was Barbara’s horrific screaming, and then something cold and hard smacking into the back of his skull… 

…and far above, in the light of the house, two heads peered into the hole, one with spiky lime green hair and the other wearing a red and black helmet.

  “Damn,” Beetlejuice said. “I knew they were going to die, but that was quite the fall.” He stood up straight. “Eh. Still a better death than others I’ve seen. At least their bodies will still be intact. Them being cut in half would make things WAY harder.”

The Jockey nodded at his side. She was leaning treacherously into the hole, so Beetlejuice grabbed her by the back of the helmet to keep her from falling in. He tugged her backwards. 

  “They’ll get up soon,” Beetlejuice said. “So we gotta get ready. Prepare. Where’s the book?”

The Jockey looked around mutely. Beetlejuice learned rather quickly that she wasn’t much of a talker. He had never actually heard her voice before so he didn’t know if she even  could talk, though she did nod when he asked if she could. Whether that was the truth or a lie to save face, he didn’t know, but he didn’t really care because they communicated together rather fine. It was quite a bit easier than he was expecting once he had all of her mannerisms down.

  “It’ll show up eventually,” Beetlejuice said, checking the watch he didn’t have. His sleeves were still dripping with rainwater. “In the meantime,” he gazed around the house. “Pretty big place they got here. And for only two people?”

The Jockey pointed to the crib.

  “Right. They  had been discussing starting their own family,” Beetlejuice nodded. He glanced back into the hole for a moment. The two bodies at the bottom were still in the same position as they had been a minute ago, but the pool of blood gathering around their heads had grown slightly larger. Their lights were definitely knocked out cold. “Hopefully the woman hadn’t actually been pregnant. Nobody likes ghost fetuses. They’re so weird. All crawly and goopy and malformed…” He shuddered.

The Jockey laughed. She was capable of making noises, just didn’t like talking for reasons Beetlejuice still didn’t know.

  “What about you? Did you have a house like this? Big? Small? Rich? Poor?”

She looked over at him, flicking one of her ears. She was quiet, as usual.

  “I only ask because my housing unit back in the Netherworld was terrible,” Beetlejuice said. “I was once chained in this abyss for, like, a hundred years. It was the worst. Really makes you miss normal houses, doesn’t it?”

The Jockey nodded faintly, her lips pursed, eyebrows knitted together as she stared at him.

There was suddenly a  thump  as a thick book appeared out of seemingly nowhere, crashing to the ground on a rather ugly green and brown carpet. Beetlejuice picked it up.

  “The rulebook,” he presented it to his partner. “Let’s see…” He flipped open to the first few pages and began reading,  “The Handbook For The Recently Deceased. Chapter One: The Netherworld. All ghosts should proceed directly to the Netherworld.” He closed it abruptly. “But that isn’t gonna happen! These lovebirds need to stay here with us and haunt their house!”

He thrusted out a hand and the fireplace roared to life, crackling with bright orange flames. The Jockey leapt around to it, the glow making her eyes shine. She followed him over to the mantle as he carelessly threw the handbook into the inferno.

  “Whoops!” Beetlejuice exclaimed. “Damn. There goes the book. Now they’ll never get to the Netherworld.”

The Jockey tittered softly. At the same time, there was the sound of shifting from within the hole.

  “Barbara…? Are you alright?”

  “Oh crap!” Beetlejuice grabbed the Jockey by the arm and yanked her behind the couch with him to hide. They both crouched low, listening as the couple crawled their way out of their tomb.

  “Holy smokes! That was some fall!”

  “I guess the floor gave out…?”

  “I didn’t think it was that weak. Are you alright, huh?”

  “I think so…”

  “Oh my god--”

  “You are like ice!”

  “You’re freezing!”

They must have discovered their body’s drop in temperature. 

  “I’ll make a… I don’t remember making a fire…”

The Jockey’s gaze shot over to Beetlejuice. He shrugged.

  “Had to destroy the book somehow, kid,” he whispered.

  “That’s so weird. It’s not hot…”

  “I think we should consider ourselves lucky. A fall like that could have been bad. I mean, my whole life flashed before my eyes like it does in the movies. I started asking myself the big questions, like… Why are our bodies still in the basement?”

  “What did you say?”

The Jockey grimaced behind the couch.

The couple then began screaming, though Beetlejuice didn’t exactly know why. He couldn’t risk blowing his cover just yet to check.

  “Adam! I don’t think we survived that fall!”

  “…What? You mean… Oh god.”

  “Here we go, kid,” Beetlejuice whispered to the Jockey. “It’s our time to shine.”

  “I know… I know. There’s still so much I wanted to do.”

  “I know, me too, but-- Hey, hey. We’re still together, right? We’re still in our house, all of our stuff is here! So what if we are…dead… That’s bad, obviously, but hey! Maybe nothing has to change!”  

Just then, Beetlejuice and the Jockey popped up from behind the couch. 

  “Hi.”

The Jockey waved.

Barbara and Adam whirled around to them. They all stared at each other in a beat of silence. Beetlejuice held up his hands.

  “Do not be afraid,” he said. His sharp black claws didn’t help the statement very much. “You are dead. I am also dead.” He pointed to the Jockey. “So is she. Maybe we can help each other out. What’s up?”

The Maitlands screamed and scrambled away as he advanced over to them with his hand outstretched. He backpedaled in reaction, pointy ears shooting up. He had  not been expecting them to act like that. Good thing he had a child with him.

  “Work your magic, kid,” he said to the Jockey.

The Jockey did as she was told, slowly walking over to the Maitlands with her hands up, palms out, claws visible, as if she were approaching a pair of spooked horses. The Maitlands seemed to relax slightly in the midst of the young girl, but then got weirdly defensive looks on their face. They bustled around her, forming a barrier of sorts between her and Beetlejuice. She blinked over their guard.

  “Hey!” Beetlejuice yelped. “That’s my jockey!”

  “Who the hell are you?!” Adam yelled. 

  “Help! I am help!” Beetlejuice said. “I’m here to help you both! And so is she! So can I have her back now? Pretty sure we have a whole codependent, separation anxiety thing going on here.”

Barbara peered at the small form of the Jockey, then at Beetlejuice protectively, not budging. “Are you her father?”

  “What? No!” 

Adam’s eyes somehow got even wider than they already were. “Did you kidnap her?!”

  “How did you even come to that conclusion?”

But Adam and Barbara were already wrapped up in the theory, becoming even more fierce and protective around the Jockey. Not that they were very intimidating. They had about the menace of a pair of pomeranians, and even that was being generous. 

  “You’re not laying another finger on her!” Adam yelled.

  “I didn’t kidnap her!” Beetlejuice yelled back, exasperated. Hints of orange-red were beginning to flicker around the crown of his head like the first sparks of a fire. If these two newly-deads weren’t so damn attractive he probably would have clawed their faces off by now and found a new couple to get a living human to say his name.

Barbara turned to the Jockey, crouching slightly to meet her eyes beneath the rim of her helmet. “Sweetie, did this mean man take you from your parents?”

  “I didn’t take her from anyone!”

  “That sounds like something a kidnapper would say,” Adam said, narrowing his eyes at him in suspicion.

  “I’m not a kidnapper!!”

The Jockey quickly held up her hands again, shaking her head. She weaved around the protective forms of Adam and Barbara and darted over to Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into his side possessively. He glared at the Maitlands for a moment before cooling off, easing his stare. The red and orange fire beginning to light through his hair went down. 

  “I did not kidnap her,” he reiterated. “She is my partner.”

Adam opened his mouth.

  “NOT LIKE THAT!” Beetlejuice cut him off before he even got the chance to say something. “Partner in business. My business partner. We work together.”

  “You work with…a child?” Barbara asked.

  “She’s more useful than half of the adults I know.”

The Jockey stood up a little straighter at that.

Adam looked Beetlejuice up and down. “You said you were here to help us…”

  “Right!” Beetlejuice perked up. “Yes! We are!”

  “Help us with what?” Barbara asked.

  “To learn how to scare!”

  “Scare? Scare who?”

  “The people who bought your house!”

At that moment, two men dressed in delivery outfits came in and began grabbing everything they saw. Barbara and Adam tried to stop them, but their yelling and waving did little to help. Beetlejuice and the Jockey watched on in amusement.

  “They can’t see us!” Adam finally exclaimed.

  “Keen observation, Adam,” Beetlejuice said. He took the crop from the Jockey’s holster and began waving it around as if he were giving a presentation. “The living ignore the dead. We are invisible to them. And they’re so wrapped up in their stupid little lives that they usually just ignore the strange and unusual unless you make them, which is why we’re here.”

  “This is all so much to take in,” Barbara said, running her fingers through her hair.

  “Hey, I get it,” Beetlejuice said. “It’s a lot, but it’s okay! You two are special! You died together! That NEVER happens! Unless it’s a murder-suicide, which makes for a VERY awkward eternity.” 

  “How did you die?” Adam asked warily.

Beetlejuice laughed. “Oh, that’s cute. I was born-dead. Never got to experience human stupidity.”

  “And her?” Adam nodded at the Jockey.

  “Horse racing accident,” Beetlejuice said. He thought it had been obvious from her muddy and bloody silks and the hoofprints branding her body. He tapped a claw on her helmet. “She doesn’t talk very much, so don’t expect an answer from her.”

  “Wait-- how can you be born dead?” Barbara blinked.

  “I’m a demon, Babs, try to keep up.”

Both Barbara and Adam’s eyes widened. Thankfully, they didn’t freak out like they did the last time.

  “You’re a WHAT?!” Adam yelped.

  “So is she!” Beetlejuice pointed to the Jockey.

  “You don’t…look like demons…” Barbara said hesitantly.

  “Well, that’s just rude,” Beetlejuice looked down at the Jockey. “I swear, Breathers read the Bible once and think all demons are the same.”

The Jockey nodded with a tiny giggle.

  “Demons aren’t exactly what you’re used to,” Beetlejuice said to the confused faces of the Maitlands. “If you weren’t already ghosts, my true form could strike you dead simply by being in your midst. I can kill a Breather with a single stare! But I appear in this form,” he gestured vaguely, “to seem less intimidating. Don’t want to scare off any potential clients.”

  “You need to work on that,” Adam said.

  “I can go more demonic whenever I want, though,” Beetlejuice went on, ignoring him. 

He then snapped his fingers and a pair of black-and-white striped horns burst out from the crown of his head. A long, arrowhead black tail slithered out from his waist as his legs painlessly bent backwards into a more hock-jointed position, large talons pressing out from his ratty shoes. The Maitlands stared in shock. The Jockey looked enraptured, her ears fluttering. 

  “Like so,” He presented himself to them. “And this isn’t even what I REALLY look like.”

The Jockey clapped energetically. Beetlejuice grinned at her toothily. 

  “I was born a demon,” Beetlejuice said, looking back at the Maitlands. “Therefore, I was born-dead. She,” he drummed on the Jockey’s helmet, “became a demon. That happens if a ghost becomes too consumed with bitterness, grief, or anger and can’t get over their deaths.”

Barbara and Adam both shot worried looks at the Jockey from the implication behind Beetlejuice’s words. Beetlejuice didn’t blame them for that one. It was uncommon for ghosts to become demons; only if their deaths were REALLY bad. And for a child to turn, no less… 

  “Anyway,” Beetlejuice continued. “There’s a lot of feuds between the two types of demons because born-demons perceive turned-demons as “falsies” or “dirty half breeds” since they used to be humans and weren’t born with their horns and whatnot.” He tapped one of the Jockey’s little horn nubs for emphasis. “It’s just this whole thing.  We get along just fine, though!”

As if to prove it, he and the Jockey smiled innocently, showing their sharp teeth. The Maitlands blinked back at them. Adam glanced over Beetlejuice’s shoulders as the movers continued to haul out furniture.

  “So you can really help us get our house back?” he asked.

  “You bet your sweet dilf ass I can!” Beetlejuice replied animatedly.

Adam’s cheeks flamed to an adorable shade of pink. Barbara looked slightly startled before barking, “There’s a child here!”

The Jockey waved a dismissive hand and mouthed,  “I’ve heard worse.” She then tugged on her filthy silks for emphasis of sorts. 

  “Please say yes!” Beetlejuice said, trying not to beg. “Nobody else can help you! We’re all you got!”

Adam and Barbara cast one more dismayed look at their departing furniture, then said, “You’re hired.”

Electric green shot through Beetlejuice’s hair like the lightning bolts during an acid storm down in the Netherworld. His tail had to be wagging at the speed of light. He shook the Jockey’s arm eagerly. 

  “They said yes!!” He yipped, and the Jockey grinned up at him gleefully. He looked at the Maitlands. “You won’t regret it!”

The Maitlands looked slightly worried. 

  “I sure hope so,” Adam muttered.

--- --- --- --- ---

Jaws dripping with gore, the many-limbed, razor-clawed amalgamation towers over the smaller creature on the street, holding a heart between its teeth. The smaller creature raises its blunted, chipped, and ripped off claws in a sign of weakness, spiked tail tucked between its legs. The abomination devours its heart, then hisses in its ear, “D o n ‘ t e v e r t o u c h h e r a g a i n.”

--- --- --- --- ---

Beetlejuice’s eyes popped open. He stared into the darkness all around him, thick and tall like walls of onyx. Rain was still falling outside. Normal rain. 

There was shifting at his side. The Jockey curled up tighter against his side, finding him warm despite the Dead being deathly cold. Finding his presence comforting despite him being awful.

She didn’t need to sleep, and yet she did. Perhaps to retain a shred of normalcy in her unlife. The Maitlands seemed to be the same way from the soft snoring coming from the other corner of the attic. It was too dark to see them, but they were there.

People were there. 

His tail was still out, so he draped it over the Jockey’s ankle, testing her reaction to the touch. Even in sleep, she stirred, ears flicking slightly. She slumped over completely into his lap, her head cushioned by one of her arms, pointed tongue caught between her sharp teeth. Beetlejuice snorted. He poked her helmet.

  “I don’t know how you sleep in this,” he said.

There was no answer. Even if she weren’t asleep, she wouldn’t give him one. That was okay. He didn’t mind her silence. 

[ka-za-ri]

Prize Pt 2

Henlo! more commissioned smut? Heck yeah!! Uh... I suck at summaries, so please enjoy the Satan smut. I’m sorry, but also not really... ‘cause I will never apologize for slammin’ down some pr0nz your way. Enjoy! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Pairing: Satan x Reader Genre: smut Wordcount: 6,200 ish   Tags: Demon Sex, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink Summary: Now that you’ve pieced together what’s going on, it’s up to you to take control of this game.

Match Point

After your private ‘study session’ with Asmodeus, something changed among the brothers. Their attempts became much more candid. As if a seal had been broken, it was common now for one of them to make a scene at the table first thing in the morning to usurp your time after classes. Even if none of them had stated what their damn game was, it was clearly a competition to claim your body as theirs. Asmo’s brief mention of having children together only helped confirm the suspicion you had ever since the beginning.

Now that you had a better idea of what they were plotting, it became easier to predict their plans. Even if you knew what they were up to, it didn’t mean that you had the ability to avoid them until another breaking point like what happened with Asmo. Whether it was to stay late and do some ‘make up’ work with Lucifer or to have an innocent ‘movie night’ with Belphegor, you came to expect some level of intimacy with every one of your meetings with the brothers.

At least now with their plan mostly exposed, you knew who you wanted to be with if your hypothesis was true. Unfortunately for you, trying to get any sort of dedicated time with Satan was nearly impossible unless he initiated due to how his brothers were playing. Not only that, out of all of his brothers, he seemed to be the most detached from the game. His aloof, nonchalant strategy attracted you if only because he seemed much safer to be around.

As the days passed, it became more difficult to dodge their advances; and at some point, it was normal to find yourself whisked from one raunchy whirlwind fuck to another. Any spare time you had was essentially dedicated to avoiding them if you could. Whether it was due to luck or it was his game plan to the competition, Satan approached you with a deal.

“Study date?” he suggested, pointing in the direction of the library one day before breakfast. “There’s a test in Demon History later next week, and I know you were sleeping through it.”

You sighed in relief. A day without anyone accosting you seemed like a dream. The fact that Satan had specifically pointed out the library gave you enough security to feel like he wasn’t going to try any sort of funny business. Though there were lingering doubts about his intentions, a chance to just get away from it all was ideal; and it gave you the chance you were looking for to spend time with him.

Any attempts Mammon made at the table that day were quickly shot down with confidence. Your preapproved arrangements with Satan gave you the peace of mind that you’d be able to rest your body as well as get some actual studying done. You knew your notes weren’t the best; and with how studious he was, you were sure you could bribe Satan to let you copy his own.

“Thanks,” you mumbled once you met up with him at the library.

“For what?” he looked up from his book and cocked an eyebrow.

“For you know…getting me away from all that today. You know how chaotic it’s been. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I’m only making sure you pass that test,” he shrugged and went back to his book. “I’d hate for the average of the class to drop because you’re not doing well.”

Due to all the antics that ensued among the brothers, it was odd the most calming thing you could do was to actually knuckle down and study. You didn’t think fretting over your classes would be less stressful than finding a way to discreetly avoid everyone; yet there you were, copying notes and trying to make sense of the Demonic timeline. Things were only made worse when prominent members of Demonic society started to time travel.

“How do you even pass a test with all this information in it?” you lamented, idly flipping through the textbook. You understood the words on the pages separately; but when you tried to comprehend them together, it was practically a different language to you.

Satan put down his book and looked at the pages you were grumbling over. He shrugged and took back his notebook once he saw you were done copying everything down. “Memorize it. It doesn’t have to make sense if you just know everything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve only lived through half of this history.”

“Not really. Closer to maybe about 10% of it. The others? Maybe a quarter of it. History is very long, longer if you count all the time travel.”

“I don’t want to count all of the time travel.”

“It’s going to be on the test,” he warned.

“Ugh, fine. Just help me with how to make sense of this chart then,” you turned the textbook over to him on the page with an extensive, yet somehow it was still labeled ‘abbreviated,’ flowchart of Demonic history. “If I can memorize this, then maybe my grade won’t be too bad.”

He chuckled, looking over the page and pointing out the key events you would need to know. “A lot of this is just found in trivia games. The more important stuff is going to be underlined in red.”

You nodded, picking up your pen to start jotting down the important dates but then paused when you got a few lines in. “Wait. Almost everything is underlined in red.”

“Guess there’s a lot of important stuff in there.”

You huffed, realizing that you weren’t getting anymore help than he was willing to give. It was already a breakthrough for you that he was even willing to tolerate your presence alone for a longer period of time than necessary. The tranquil ambiance of the library seemed to bring out a more mellow side of him. Having a time and a place where none of the other brothers could bother you did wonders to your blood pressure and mentality. 

Hours passed as you poured your heart into memorizing as much as you could before you were kicked out of the library. With how chaotic things were outside of that sacred quiet place, you didn’t know when the next time you would get any sort of quiet time to study would be. Your eyes ached, and your brain struggled to remember the last thing you read by the time Satan suggested leaving.

“Do you think you’ll do well?”

“Depends on how much of all of this is going to be retained,” you shrugged. “Hopefully it’ll be good enough to pass.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t let me down. I’d hate to see you be the reason the class average goes down,” he teased.

You pouted, even more determined to pass now more than ever. “Fine. Whatever, just help me study again next week. There’s an Advanced Sigils  test soon, and I still don’t understand half of what’s going on.”

“Are you really having trouble in that class, or are you just trying to spend more time with me?” he raised a brow, curious as to how you would answer his inquiry.

“Is it not allowed to be both? If I’m studying with you it means I don’t get bombarded with requests to go out, and I get to actually do some schoolwork. Do you know how hard that is to do when Levi is rattling off TSL trivia in the middle of trying to do homework? At least you’re willing to do it in the library, and I’m guaranteed a few hours of real concentration time.”

Satan chuckled, his eyes crinkling in untold joy at your words, “Well then, let’s make it a regular thing then,” he suggested. “I will admit, it was nice to have you around for company.”

You broke out in a grin, feeling as though some progress was finally being made with him. Seeing him like this, unbothered by the presence of his brothers, softened the generally haughty nature he displayed when around others. You’d hold onto the precious softness he showed you for as long as you could, so asking for more study dates with him seemed to be the most logical thing to do.

“So, see you next week?”

“Same time, same place,” he confirmed.

~~

Study dates with Satan were the thing you looked forward to the most during your week. Often, you found yourself daydreaming about the next peaceful date with him in the library. It gave you the sanity to survive the otherwise hectic life you lead. Having a predetermined break in your week also gave you time to figure out what to do the next week when it came to dodging as many advances as you could from the others.

You always felt safe with him. Perhaps it was because you always met with him in a public space, or perhaps it was just because he never overtly tried anything with you. The two of you stayed a respectable distance from one another with no pretenses or ulterior motives. With all the chaos that surrounded you, it was nice to actually have a dedicated time to get away from it all and focus on classes or daydream about times back in your realm. Satan didn’t seem bothered with your dozing off unless he knew there was a test looming near. Then, he would put some effort into pointing out the right books to pull from the library to aid your struggles. If he felt merciful, he would offer to tutor you, though that opportunity rarely presented itself. Even if Satan was in on the competition, at least it didn’t seem like he was intent on making his move during those peaceful moments.

So, when he abruptly disappeared in the middle of the week and refused to answer any of your messages, you quickly became worried about his well being. None of the others mentioned his condition, and they all carried on with their lives as if his disappearance was normal. You heard vague whispers, but nothing you could make out or really understand.

You didn’t admit it to anyone, but you missed Satan. Not just because of the quiet times you got to spend with him, but his overall aura and company kept you sane. To have that go missing without warning was a shock to your system, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

“Is Satan sick?” you brought up the topic finally during breakfast while the others went about their morning routines. “I haven’t seen him in a few days.”

“He’ll get over what he’s got in a day or two. It shouldn’t be much longer,” Lucifer answered calmly with a shrug, his eyes never leaving the article he was reading on his D.D.D.

“None of you are worried? I mean, he’s just gone for half a week, and you don’t question it?”

“Aww, you really don’t gotta worry yourself over him,” Mammon reassured with a pat on your shoulder. “All of us gotta go through it too. He’s just unlucky that he’s gotta go through it now while you’re around.”

“Wait. What?” you blinked, trying to understand what they were talking about. The way Mammon talked about it and how nonchalant everyone was made it seem like it was a normal occurrence. Your mind went through the notes you had taken during Demonic Culture Studies in an attempt to figure out if it was some sort of rite of passage for demons when they became a certain age. Nothing clicked.

It wasn’t until you heard Asmodeus skipping out of the room that you recalled what he had said weeks ago.

“Makes me wish I was rutting right now so I could breed you over and over again.”

Ah. Maybe, just maybe...

The term was vaguely familiar to you. You were sure you had heard it during a lecture at some point, but couldn’t remember which one. Luckily, after a quick search online, you were able to get an idea of what he might be going through. If your suspicions proved to be true, it would be an ideal opportunity for you to play the game in a way that would guarantee your favor. Running through your schedule and obligations, you cleared up the rest of your day, determined to get to the bottom of all of this.

“Are you alright? I haven’t seen you around in a few days,” you knocked on his door after classes, hoping to get some answers. Satan had been avoiding everyone; and though you had an inkling as to why, you needed to confirm it for yourself.

You didn’t dare to breathe while you waited for the door to open. You could hear him get up and move around. Just as you thought he would finally let you in, there was a long uncomfortable moment of silence. You could feel him hesitate before finally turning the handle and cracking the door open just a bit. “Sorry, I haven’t been feeling well…”

From what you could see through the tiny crack, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. His normally messy hair was even more unkempt than usual. It was clear he didn’t want to be anywhere near you, but disappearing for days on end without notice was concerning. The others seemed to know what was going on, but kept themselves mum about it all. It was frustrating to have to take things into your own hands and figure things out for yourself.

“I got notes from class for you,” you offered, reaching into your bag and pulling out your notebook. “I actually paid attention in class and started using the shorthand you showed me, and let me tell you, it’s definitely helped me out a lot the past week. The professor was talking so fast,” you started to ramble, just glad to see his face again. It felt like ages since you got to talk to him and having contact with him made you drop your guard in a heartbeat. “Did you want me to copy them for you? I can also help you with homework. I promise I haven’t slept through any of my classes lately.”

“It’s fine,” his reply came out strained and rather curt. “I already have notes, Levi dropped them off for me earlier.”

That was a lie, and both of you knew it. You knew better than to push your luck with him. Satan had a propensity to lash out, but something told you to persist. Jamming your foot into the door as he tried to close it, you ignored the pain and pushed through to gain access to his room. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. This isn’t like you.” You stepped past the threshold of his room and looked around.

The piles of books he surrounded himself with didn’t seem to be in terrible disarray. It was the first time you had actually stepped foot in his private quarters, and you took a moment to look around. While you were distracted, Satan took the time to close the door and turn the lock to it. Now that you were in his space, the aura he had tried to suppress came out in full force. He stalked around you like a cat waiting to pounce. His eyes trained on your body as he circled around you, his footsteps light and quiet.

It didn’t take much for you to notice the slight change in his demeanor. One moment he was looking absolutely sickly and unwell, the next moment he was pacing around you. The way he watched your every move was unsettling, and you tried to offset the unease you felt by placing your arms over your chest. Huffing in annoyance that he was still being rather cryptic, you started to demand the answers no one was bothering to tell you. “So, are you going to tell me, or are you just going to walk around looking at me?”

“I’m not… well,” he said, the last vestiges slipping from his control now that you were so close to him. He didn’t want to break the tentative trust the two of you had built over the last few weeks. He wanted to think he was better than what his hormones were telling him to do with you; but since the opportunity presented itself so neatly to him, it was hard to pass up. While you tapped your foot impatiently for an answer, he let go of the last bit of control he had on his hormones; and an odd calm washed over him. A haze settled over his mind as he let himself be carried away by instinct. He would find time to apologize to you later, after he won.

“You don’t look that bad. Maybe a little sleep deprived...” You reached up to touch his forehead, checking for his temperature. He didn’t seem particularly warm, but you didn’t really have a very good frame of reference for what normal demon body temperature should be like. It wasn’t until you got a closer look at his complexion that you noticed how dark his eyes had become and how flushed his cheeks were. “Okay, maybe I take that back...”

You pulled your hand back just a second too late. He reached out and held onto your wrist firmly, the barest trace of a smirk played at the corner of his lips. He understood that you were saying things to him, the words were supposed to make sense; but in his addled state, it was hard for him to care about anything other than the hunger roiling within him. With just your slightest touch, you destroyed the little bit of control he worked so hard to maintain around you.

It didn’t matter anymore. You had squandered your last chance to leave when you touched him. He had you cornered in his own territory. The hunt was over, and he could finally play this damned game on his own terms. He had been so patient, biding his time and waiting for the right moment. His rut came upon him just as he was about to make his move, and he was sure he had missed his chance with you. However, you had chosen to walk into his room even knowing he wasn’t well. You had chosen to seek him out, almost as if you knew what he was going through. Maybe it’s fate…

With a strength he rarely showed, he pulled you to the bed tucked in the corner of his room and nearly threw you onto it. He exuded an aura that shot down any protests you might have had about his rough treatment of you.

He moved according to instinct, wedging his knee between your legs and pushing you down onto the soft covers of his bed. “I think you can understand how I’m not well. After all, from what I remember you saying, you passed that biology test with flying colors.”

“I…yes...” It was only a matter of time before you bedded him. It was the most fortunate of circumstances that it happened during a time when he was holing himself away due to a rut. You couldn’t have planned it any better. The rules had never been said out loud, but Asmodeus’ words held so much more weight and meaning to them than you could ever imagine. “Maybe I do know what I’m getting into.”

“Good girl. Then I won’t have to explain myself,” he purred, nuzzling your neck and ran his lips across your skin. His voice was pitched in a way that made you shiver. There was much more passion in the simple gesture than anything else he had ever shown you publicly. Your unique scent seemed to fill his whole head and made him dizzy. He pulled you closer with one arm around your waist and he took a deep breath to memorize just how you smelled right before he took you. The intimacy was strange, but not unwelcome. You wondered if he would be anything like this if his mind wasn’t so influenced by his hormones. His fingers found your chin, tilting it up to meet him eye to eye. “I’m sorry.”

Satan didn’t give you time to think about the oddly gentle apology before his lips found your own in a heated kiss. He claimed your mouth greedily, running his tongue across your lips just once as a forewarning before it delved into your mouth, tracing your teeth and swallowing your moans. One hand on your chin kept your head tilted just the way he wanted, his other hand laced itself into your hair and held you steady as he claimed you like he had already won.

He didn’t want his first time with you to be like this. It was supposed to be sweet, romantic and soft; not what a demon in heat was going to be like. Perhaps knowing that he wasn’t the first to get to you was what drove him to want to possess you even more. If anything, he at least knew that the state he was in granted him the best chance of victory over all his brothers. Perhaps they would call it cheating; but he considered it good luck with a hint of strategy that got him to where he was.

He pinned your arms above your head with one hand, keeping you firmly in place while his other hand swiftly slid under your skirt. Curling a finger, he pressed it against your heat. Even though the two of you had only kissed, he was pleasantly surprised to feel quite a bit of dampness between your legs through the fabric. It felt like after a couple of run-ins with his other brothers, your body seemed to be primed for the taking at any moment. His luck didn’t seem to be running out anytime soon.

Your gasp brought him out of the haze of lust for a brief moment only to have him redouble his efforts into making you squirm for him. He had the darkest, most wild look in his eyes as he watched your every movement. It pleased a deep part of him that out of all his brothers, he was the one who was able to get you to squirm and whimper like this. It wasn’t hard to hear how the others made you feel; they didn’t make much of an effort to hide what they were doing to you. It was a bit shameful for him to admit to himself just how he had memorized your breathy sighs late into the night.

What wasn’t shameful was just how different it sounded when you were so close to him, and there weren’t any walls to muffle the pretty noises you could make when you were given pleasure. His knuckle pressed against your heat a little harder; and out of instinct, your legs spread wide, giving him access to your body. He played you like he had studied you for decades. As if he knew which part of your body would make you sing the loudest for him.

Satan’s lips peppered kisses all over your heated skin as he worked you up to the peak of your arousal. He buried his head at the crook of your neck, taking time to lick and suck the sensitive skin there. He nipped you with his teeth in between his kisses. Nothing hard enough to break skin, yet enough to leave dark marks proving to anyone who saw where he had been.

Your fingers tingled from being pinned down so firmly, but all that felt negligible compared to how he was making you feel with just his lips and his finger against your clothed heat. You rolled your hips to meet his knuckle, encouraging him to keep going. “Ah…Satan...” you breathed, your eyelids fluttering when he pressed just right against your clit.

Outwardly, he didn’t show it; but his heart sang when he heard you call his name that way. There was nothing quite like the elation he felt when he realized just how much power he had over you. The instincts that guided him only egged him to go further to get even more sounds from you. His need to breed and fill you with his seed only grew the warmer you body became thanks to his ministrations. He didn’t care if you wouldn’t last much longer. No, now that you were in his territory, he owned you; and he had so many more plans to exact after one climax.

“Don’t you dare think about moving your hands from where they are,” he growled, loosening his grip on your hands momentarily. You flexed your fingers just to get circulation back into them, other than that, you complied to his demands without question. His hand now free to roam your body made quick work of your uniform. He had the decency to at least make an attempt to not rip apart everything, though in his haste, you swore you heard a seam tear at some point.

You laid bare, save for your panties, under him; and it was a sight he was going to remember for the rest of his life. There was an innate fear in your expression that made you irresistible to him. In one swift motion, he divested you from the last piece of clothing you had on. There was no denying just how aroused you were with the bit of resistance your underwear gave him as he pulled it away from you. He could clearly smell how excited you were from just the little bit of teasing you had done.

Swooping in to give you a torrid kiss, it was too easy for him to slide two fingers into your wet heat. Your moans were muffled by his lips as he worked his digits in and out of you. The pace was just enough to have you seeing stars and gasping for air anytime his lips left yours for a brief moment. In a moment when you had your eyes closed, when he curled his fingers just right inside of you, you heard an unfamiliar rustling sound. When you cracked open your eyes again, you saw grand, curling horns framing his face.

After his transformation, the pace changed once again. There was almost a malicious glint in his eyes as he watched your expression change the closer you got to your climax. He had dreamed of this moment so many times before. To see it happen in front of him was a wondrous sort of magic, a magic he had complete control over. “Remember to say my name when you cum,” he growled before using his thumb to rub your clit alongside what his fingers were doing to you.

You choked back a sob as your body shuddered in the wake of your orgasm. His name did leave your lips at that moment as he demanded. You were also sure anyone else in the building could also hear you as you called out for him while your inner walls clenched around his fingers, soaking the digits in your essence.

He pulled his fingers out of you and looked at just how coated they were with your juices. While you recovered from your climax, Satan took a moment to lick his fingers clean, his long tongue lapped up the slick mess on his fingers as he hummed in approval at your unique flavor. It would make claiming you much more special now that he knew how you tasted as well.

You only had the time it took for him to remove his clothes to recover from your orgasm before he took control once again. “Hands and knees,” he demanded and you scrambled onto your quaking limbs to comply with his needs.

You could see your faint reflection in the window in front of you.The outline of your body and his prepared you for what was to come next. You felt the bed dip with his added weight as he lined himself up behind you. There was no additional preamble before he sank his length into you and started a brutal pace that had you clutching onto the sheets below to prevent you from moving too much. Having already cum once, sliding into you was too easy; and with how tightly your walls were around him, it only made the first pass feel that much more rewarding. Even if you never got a chance to properly see the unique shape of his cock before he buried himself into you, you definitely felt every particular ridge and divot he had.

He lost himself the moment he entered you. Gone was any notion of soft loving and romance. All he had within him was the innate need to breed, to see you filled to the brim with his seed. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of finally fucking you and how he was going to continue to fuck you until both of you passed out from exhaustion.

“You have… No idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.” His nails dug into the flesh of your hips, helping you stay right where he wanted you. He couldn’t care less about being too rough with you, not when your moans were encouraging him. He could see your face scrunched up in pleasure whenever he glanced up at the faint reflection on the window. The scratches he left on your skin welted up so beautifully, it only drove him to dig his nails deeper into you until you bled. His need to mark you overpowered any common sense he had.

The pain and the pleasure you felt mixed into something so much more than you had ever experienced. He had given you no time to adjust to his girth and length before he started fucking you in earnest. Even if you didn’t get a chance to see it, you could feel the tip of a hard, bulbous knot press against your entrance with each hard thrust. You clung to the sheets underneath you for dear life, riding out the brutal pace. He didn’t moan as much as he growled whenever your walls clung to the ridges of his cock just right. Satan leaned over, biting your shoulder hard enough to where his canines broke skin. Seeing your blood well up in contrast to your complexion only had him craving for you even more. He licked at the wound he created while he continued to rail into you, your cries sending him into bliss.

He could tell you were close to another climax; and just when you thought you would crest over, he stopped his pace abruptly, pulling out of you without warning just to flip you over and reenter you. Satan grabbed onto your leg, propping it against his shoulder before he resumed fucking your abused hole. With the new angle he was granted, he took more measured strokes, letting you fully experience everything his cock had to offer you. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the exertion, but the high he was getting from ramming his length into you over and over was worth the exhaustion he would feel later once the brunt of his needs were sated.

He could feel you ramping up for yet another orgasm. It would be the last push he needed to fully embed himself inside of you. His thrusts slowed, if only to press his knot against your entrance, letting you feel the sting and burn of being stretched out to accommodate the last few inches of his length. You whined, feeling both the need to accept him but also a bit of fear, wondering if that was even a possibility.

He seemed to notice your trepidation and leaned in for a surprisingly soft kiss considering how roughly he had treated you thus far. “Soon,” he said, his voice hoarse and gravely. He pressed his hips forward again, and you forgot to breathe as you were pushed to your limits. Satan pulled back only to repeat the motion once more. “Soon...” he growled again, his cock twitched in anticipation, knowing what was to come.

Subconsciously, his tail wrapped around your leg, tightly squeezing it as if to reassure you it would all be alright. He showered your neck and collarbone with kisses before reaching in between your bodies and rubbing your clit. “I know you’re close. Cum for me, and accept all of me...”

The combination of his low voice so close to your ear and the stimulation of his fingers gave you all you needed to once again reach your climax. Your walls pulsed around him, pulling him further into you; and it gave him just the little extra push he needed to fully seat himself within you with a satisfying “pop” sensation. His breathing wavered as he relished in the feeling of being buried within you so intimately. Looking down, he could see your entrance throbbing around his length, the sight of being joined with you in such a way had his heart soaring. All the time he spent with you, keeping you at arms length for this moment was so worth it.

You on the other hand needed to contend with both the feeling of your orgasm as well as being filled far beyond anything you had ever experienced before. His knot kept him lodged within you for as long as it took for him to be properly satiated. He waited, feeling your walls clench tightly around him before feebly caressing his hard length once the most intense part of your orgasm passed.

“Good girl,” he purred. His expression was surprisingly soft and loving as he brushed your hair out of your face. Now came the part that he had been looking forward to the most, the part that his body had been craving ever since you willingly walked into his territory. He rocked his pelvis slowly, causing you to gasp and accommodate him. He didn’t have the freedom of movement to thrust into you as he did before, but the subtle jerking motion of his hips rocking against you gave you enough stimulation to have you seeing stars and gasping for air.

“Satan...” you whimpered, your eyelids fluttering as you struggled to get a hold of yourself above everything you were feeling.

The sound of your voice calling out for him only made him rock more insistently into you, pressing further and further, deeper until the tip of his cock pushed against your cervix. The fullness, the pain, the pleasure, it was all beyond anything you could ever imagine; and just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, you felt him release inside of you, a guttural moan coming from his lips as he finally climaxed.

He buried his head at the crook of your neck, desperately sucking and nipping at your skin. The warmth of his seed filled your hot caverns and spilled out, coating your thighs and the sheets below you despite his knot still being crammed tightly into your entrance. The amount of cum he pumped into you felt unfathomable as he seemed to climax for an eternity, his body trembling above your own in the aftermath of such an intense release. “Good girl...” he purred again, kissing the dark marks he had left on your skin.

The haze of need dissipated from his eyes now that he finally let go of his pent up desires. When his heartbeat finally settled a bit, he coaxed you to lay on your side facing him while he was still connected to you. He sighed in content, brushing your hair from your face. His legs tangled up with yours while his tail lazily swished from side to side, grazing your calf lovingly from time to time.

As you basked in the afterglow, you finally had a chance to admire him in his true form. Your fingers idly played with his hair and traced the curves of his horns. He sighed softly, eyelids fluttering in the softness that came after such a rough session. It wasn’t what he expected out of you visiting him, but he was glad for the outcome.

“Well, you look like you’re much better now.”

“Maybe a little. But I think a few more rounds will be needed to really get me on the road to recovery.”

You paused everything you were doing, feeling your body react to the possibility of even more sex with him. Blinking you gave him a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding right? I’m already half dead after one round.”

“Well, I hope you’re ready to accept the consequences of seeing me when I’m unwell like this,” he purred, flexing his hips to remind you that he was very much still inside of you, “but for now, rest.” He pulled you close, kissing you on the forehead and pulling the sheets over the two of you. “I hope you don’t have anything else planned for the rest of the day.”

You giggled, snuggling up against his chest, settling for much needed comfort and a nap. “Well, taking care of an unwell friend is more important than anything else I had scheduled.”

“Hmm, Good answer.”

[siren-queen-imagines]

Almost Lost You

“could i get 3 and 9 with Derek Hale please?? thank you!x”

Here you are anon! I hope you like it! I’m a little rusty in writing for Derek but I hope you enjoy! Prompts Used: 3. “Look, I know you’re a hardass, but can you play with my hair? It would really help.” 9. “He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it.”

Masterlist

(gif made by me)

=================================

Takes place during season 3 with the Alpha Pack.

------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t fair to you that Derek is choosing now to start pushing you and Isaac away. Not with the Alpha Pack on their asses. 

Why couldn’t he see that if they stick together, there’s a chance they could beat them? Not just the Hale pack on it’s own but having Scott on their side? Just as long as they had a solid plan and didn’t go in half cocked, they could do this.

On top of all of that, what did this mean for you and Derek? Things were good between the two of you...or at least that’s what you thought. He’d been acting different since he found out Cora was alive. Was he worried or concerned about what she would think? Or did he feel his priorities were best with his sister than your relationship and this was his way of breaking up?

“You’re doing it again.” Isaac said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked over to Scott and Isaac as they watched you knowingly. The three of you were waiting for your food to come in the unbusy diner when apparently decided now would be a good place to wander.

“It’s about Derek, isn’t it?” Scott asked you.

You sighed as you nodded at him. You may have been a few years older than him but Scott was wise beyond his years. Sure he had his moments where he was a typical teenager but he was very astute.

“Look, him pushing you away and kicking Isaac out of his place...it’s not okay.” Scott continued. “But you’re his girlfriend so it’s normal that you’re thinking about him. I’ve known Derek long enough for me to see that he’s trying to protect you. He’s terrible at it and going about it wrong, but he’s protecting you.”

“He doesn’t need to. Pushing me away is only making us vulnerable to the Alpha Pack.” You said, frustration in your tone.

“You got that right.” Isaac agreed.

Scott watched you for a moment. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Have you guys said ‘I love you’ yet?” Scott asked with a mischievous smile.

“What does that--” You were cut off by Scott.

“Remember when you told me that you were worried about where you stood once Cora came into the picture?”

“Like, a week ago, yeah.”

Isaac looked back and forth between the two of you as you spoke. Honestly, he was confused because he missed these conversations. He’s gotta start talking to you more.

“I haven’t really had the chance to see this yet, but knowing him, I think I know what it is.”

“You can explain why he’s acting weird about our relationship?” You didn’t believe him.

“His feelings for you have gotten stronger. That much is obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together.”

“But ignoring me? I’m pretty sure he’s trying to break up with me.”

“No. You’d know if he wanted that. He ever telling you about his family?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you have an idea. He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it. He just has the crappiest way of expressing it right now. He’s lost a lot so allowing himself to love you is scary. Pushing you away may make him think it’ll be easier if anything happened to you.”

You narrowed your eyes at Scott, waiting for either him to say it was a joke or ‘but’. But he didn’t. The thought of Derek loving you gave you butterflies in your stomach. Honestly, you hoped Scott was right because you loved Derek. You never told Derek because you didn’t want to scare him off or think that you’re moving too fast.

Maybe it would be best to talk to him about it soon. Straighten things out and hopefully you guys can come back together not only as a pack but as a couple.

=================================

Derek was dead.

After everything that happened the night before with the Alpha Pack, there was no way he was still alive. Even if he did survive the initial fall, landing on an escalator would’ve broken his back and killed him. 

A mess didn’t even begin to describe how you felt. It was almost as if your heart shattered into tiny little bitty pieces and said pieces withered away in front of your eyes...for lack of a better explanation.

Derek...he...how...why? Why now before you could fix things? Before you could tell him how much he meant to you? Before you could tell him that you loved him. Why couldn’t you have more time with him? Losing him felt like some cruel sick joke...like a nightmare you could never wake up from.

You were practically glued to the spot where Derek fell. Tears ran down your face as Isaac held you, letting you sob into his chest. It took some coaxing from them both to get you home. Naturally, you didn’t feel right about leaving him so they said they’d handle things right now.

Isaac had texted before he and Scott left for their track meet this morning to let you know that they hadn’t had the chance to get Derek because Scott’s injuries haven’t healed yet. As much as you wanted to get mad, you couldn’t because your injuries just barely healed up. You decided that you’d go get him.

After spending a moment to mentally prepare yourself, you started your car. A loud thud came from the side of your car, causing you to let out a scream. You were so concentrated on Derek that you didn’t see that coming. 

“Oh my god, Derek!” You cried out when you saw his face on the other side, a bloody hand print on your window.

You quickly opened the door, careful not to push Derek back and got out. You knelt next to him, holding him up the best you could.

“Derek, h-how are you a--?” You continued but cut yourself off, worried but relieved to see him.

“I’m healing.” He grunted out as you helped him back to his feet. “It’s just slow.”

As difficult as it was, you managed to get Derek into your place. He did his best but you carried most of the weight...he tired himself out getting her on his own. You couldn’t blame him. 

Despite knowing he would heal up, you covered up his wounds to keep them from developing any infections and slowing down his healing. As he rested on your bed, you went to send Isaac a text when you stopped. Did you want them to know yet? If they know, it would be possible the Alpha Pack would catch wind of it and they have to believe he’s still dead. Maybe they could use that to their advantage.

“Y/N?” You heard Derek’s voice call out from your bedroom.

You walked in to find him, sitting up in your bed a curious look on his face.

“Hey.” You greeted, sitting next to him and checking his bandages. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore. How did I get here?”

“You don’t remember?” Derek shook his head. “You got here on your own, somehow. I think the wolf in you knew to come here.” You moved to the side table to grab the glass of water you left for him. 

Derek thanked you before downing the water. 

“You need anything?” You asked him as you took back the glass.

“Stay?” Derek asked.

“Are you done ignoring me?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He assured you as he laid down, wincing as he did.

“I don’t know, I’m still kinda mad at you.” 

“Please? I promise to explain. I’ll beg if it helps and you know I never do that.”

“Look, I know you’re a hardass, but can you play with my hair? It would really help.” 

“Ouch.” That hardass comment was deserved, he’ll give you that. “If it means you’ll get in bed, yes.” 

You sighed before you took off your shoes and laid down next to him. He put his arm around you, a small audible wince leaving him.

“You okay?” You asked urgently.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay.”

His hand went to the side of your head and he gently pushed it down to rest on his shoulder. He sighed contentedly as he began to play with your hair.

“I thought I lost you.” You told him, your arm moving to his waist as you gave him as good of a hug as you could from this angle.

“I thought you did too.”

“Don’t do that to me again. I barely made it through.”

Derek kissed the top of your head. 

“You know what the first thing on my mind was before I blacked out? You.”

“It was?”

“Of course it was. I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately but I really do...love you.” 

You lifted your head to look up at him, gauging the seriousness in his eyes. You needed to know if that’s what he wanted to say rather than what he felt he had to say so you wouldn’t be mad once he’s healed up.

“I’m still trying to figure things out as far as pack stuff but us? I don’t need to figure anything out about that. I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry it took me almost dying to finally tell you.” Derek continued, his hand cupping the side of your face.

“I love you too.”

You leaned in and kissed Derek gently. You may still be a little mad at him now but it doesn’t mean you wanted to hurt him. You pulled back and offered him a small smile.

“So we need to come up with a plan once you’re healed up. We have an Alpha Pack to take down.”

[pen-of-roses]

WHG Day 1

WHG tag list: @ratracechronicler @concealeddarkness13 (Thanks for Lynne!), @nightskywriter , @rhikasa , @the-moving-finger-writes , @aeslin-writes @knmartinshouldbewriting , @maple-writes, and @timefirewrites (Am I missing someone, this feels short?)

Rowan

Using the sword from the start point, they cut more wood off the trees. They’d agreed to avoid the bloodbath, but it had been right there, they couldn’t not pick up something to defend them, who knew what would happen, especially because it was cold, why did it have to be cold-

They arrived back at the makeshift shack against the cliffs. It wasn’t much, but it could work for shelter, had to work for shelter, enough for the two of them and maybe a few more people, allies, the ones who promised to get them out, or maybe Asher—Asher! They’d remembered a name, rigth?—The shack was still to exposed really, but this is as far as he could get, so it was as far as they would go. They couldn’t push it too much as of right now, why snow and cold?

Couldn't worry about that now, focus on the shelter, on keeping them out of the elements. What was left of the wood could feed the fire he’d started before he fell asleep, and then they could find food as long as he’d woken up and stayed up. Why couldn’t it have been a desert? They knew how to survive in a desert, well, they could learn to survive here too, but with Lynn the cold would be a handicap, and they needed to stay together. Please just let them stay together, and survive this, and if it was true and they could escape, let the others survive as well, with as little bloodshed as possible.

The fire was still going strong, despite the snow, but of course it was, Lynn had done it.

He blinked awake as they walked in, and smiled, genuine and reassuring if tinged with sleep. They could get through this, they could survive together, like he promised.

Sophia

She woke with a scream, quick to cut it off remembering where she was. Images from the dream still playing through her head, blood staining the snow...

A cannon sounded not long after.

Was that two or three? Someone she’d met this past week? One of her own District members?

She shuddered, pulling her jacket closer around her. This would have been so much easier if she’d just managed to get that pack. It probably had food and supplies in it...but no, her life was more important, so she’d given it up and ran. Finding the tallest tree, she’d climbed it and waited and watched. Though last she remembered it had been day. When had night fallen?

It was lucky no one had found her, especially given that she was alone now.

Gods it was cold. Fire, she need fire, and shelter...her stomach growled. She would also need food, but maybe one thing at a time.

Right, shelter first.  

Lynn (and Lynne @concealeddarkness13)

“Rowan,” he shook them awake, wild eyes searching in the dark before settling on his face and calming. “I’m going to go check something out.”

They were wide awake now, hand reaching for the sword, but he shook his head.

“Stay here, I won’t be gone long, and, well, I’ll yell if I get into trouble, yeah?”

In the darkness, it was hard to see anything. But he didn’t dare bring fire here. Despite how much the cold was affecting them. Still, better safe than, well, dead.

Stepping as lightly as he could, but with the soft crunch of his boots, he followed the direction of the sound he’d heard. He breathed a slight sigh of relief at seeing Lynne. But why was she-

“I seem to have hurt my leg.” Ah. “Could you either put me out of my misery or help me to somewhere safer?”

“I rather like the second option, yeah? Rowan and I have a small shelter, it should be big enough for one more.” Her leg, while elevated, probably still shouldn’t look quite like that for something simple and needed to be looked at soon. But they were rather exposed, and out in this cold... “Are you going to be okay to move?”

She grimaced, “That is much appreciated. I think I can move. I will just need some help. I’m not sure if I just sprained it or broke it.”

“We can have a look once you’re safer, just give me most of your weight until we get there.” Biting back his own grimace—it was most likely broke—he slowly helped her up.

They walked in silence for a while after that. The cold was getting to him, but he still supported her weight, they weren’t that far after all.

“Would you still be interested in my group when I’m so pathetic?”

“I am hardly one to judge your situation. Admittedly, I spent most of the day asleep. The cold and I do not get along particularly well.” That was putting it mildly, “You’re also the one who promised, well,” glancing around, he couldn’t see any cameras, but then he hadn’t spotted any so far, so he settled for a slight smile. “Did you hear the cannons?”

“Only two. This seems to be a tamer Games than usual.” And wasn’t that unsettling? “I am glad you were not disturbed while you slept. The other tributes, part of my group, and I agreed to meet on a certain mountain tomorrow. Of course, Zenith picked the hardest mountain to climb. We’re not far from the mountain, so if you’d like, we can head there first thing tomorrow, or even tonight, if you’d rather.”

Moving now could be for the better, cover of night and all, and everyone else hopefully would be camping out for the night. But. Between her leg, and the fact Rowan hadn’t slept more than hour or two, “Let’s look at your leg first before we make any definite plans. The lack of a bloodbath, well, it worries me that the other tributes might be a bit more clever and biding their time. Bet the Capitol was disappointed they didn’t get their usual show though.”

She hissed in pain, and the rest of the trip was silent.

Rowan was going through the fishing equipment he’d managed to procure during the initial rush when they returned. As he sat Lynne down, he nodded slightly to her leg, and they followed the motion, eyes widening ever so slightly, before they headed out without another word.

He’d never perfected healing practices, but he’d still initially trained in it and remembered some basics. Hopefully it would be enough. Pressing lightly on the area caused her to wince, and he could feel the bone. A break. It would need to be set and they didn’t have nearly the-

“I’m sorry about this.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s the Capitol that’s doing this to us. Doesn’t matter if we volunteered or not, it’s still the Capitol’s fault.” And he’d rather it was them teamed up together, than two children, but he stopped himself from saying it.

Whatever she may have said next was cut off by the arrival of a parachute. He bit back a bitter comment about the generosity of the Capitol when he saw supplies to help set her leg. At least some of them had a heart to fund this, however screwed up the rest were for watching and enjoying this. He also pointedly ignored the tears in her eyes from whatever the note said as he got to work.

Rowan appeared and pressed some leaves into his hand, whispering, “Apply these to stop anymore swelling. It’s all I could find.”

“I think,” he started slowly, pointedly focusing on his work while they prepared more food, “that it’s probably broken. It’ll be difficult to climb, but, with this setting, it shouldn’t be impossible. Hopefully between the leaves and the bandages it’ll be somewhat better. If I did my job right.” He winced slightly but couldn’t tell if she noticed. Instead, she thanked both of them. He winced at that too, he’d never been particularly good with people actually thanking him for things but did a better job at hiding it.

Glancing between her and them, both attempting or at least pretending to sleep, he finally relaxed.

This could work.

[commandersmoothdog]

It happened when he was in his late teens and was feeling rebellious. He was so desperate to be his own man, make his own decisions, that when one of the prattier school mates asked him if was interested in sneaking out and 'borrowing' his father's yacht for a midnight sail/party, Steve agreed. He's been on a boat before. He grew up with tales of how to respect the sea and never be foolishly enough to think you could best it, especially when there was a storm brewing. He'd seen the beginning warnings of the storm. Gusts of winds, growing dark clouds...he should have spoken up. But he didn't want to be called a chicken or a coward. So he went along... 

The storm hit them when they were far off from land. The waves were high and relentless, the winds were cold and sharp, and made the splashes that hit their skin feel like shards of broken glass.

Steve did his best to help keep the ship from capsizing but the waters were too rough and the sayings were true...you can't beat the sea. 

He eventually gives up on the boat and tries to help himself and others into life jackets. He gets one on himself and on another person before a wave three times the size of the boat washes over them. He's plunged into the sea and he struggles to get to the surface. He fights for his life but in the end...the cold, dark waters take hold. His vision darkens...and he's sure that's the end. 

To his surprise...he wakes up on shore. He's cold, his whole body aches, inside and out. He passes out a few times before he's strong enough to pull himself off of the beach and inspect the damage. 

 He's bruised and scraped, but there seems to be nothing broken. There are parts of the boat that brushed up on shore with him. He finds a small kit and a backpack full of snacks and energy drinks. Not the best for the situation, but he thinks it'll last him til he gets rescued. He walks the beach, calling out to the others in case any of them washed up there as well...but there was no one.

After two days passed he began keeping track by scratching marks on a tree that's become home base. He had enough knowledge in surviving that he built a fire that would hopefully send out a smoke signal to alert search rescues of where he was. 

 But the days passed, no one came close...he never heard any ships or planes...and there wasn't much he could find to eat. He decided that survival took precedence and began to look for clean water, vegetation and fruits he could eat, and find a place that could be his shelter. He'll worry about making signals to be found later. 

Later kept being a far away concept as days turned to weeks...weeks months and sooner, though rather later, Steve gave up on ever being rescued and just adapted to living in the jungle. 

 It wasn't that bad of a life. He found his way. Learned which places to avoid because he wouldn't be the strongest predator there. He had different sources of clean water he could choose from to drink and bathe. He remembered and mastered how to make weapons for him to hunt with. It'd been trial and error on how to clean animals though, but even over the years he's been...adapting. 

He eventually out grew the clothes he washed up with...that or they just ripped beyond repair. He stayed in his cargo shorts that he did his best to keep from being destroyed. He washed them when needed, one of the few chores he remembered. Sometimes when he passes a pretty flower it reminds him of the stuff he used to use to clean his clothes with other than water... 

He learned to anticipate weather and yearly oddities. Like when it got colder and some things didn't grow until it got warmer again. Or certain fish wouldn't be found until another time of the...season? He thinks that's what it's called. 

He knew it was stormy season and there was a big storm brewing. So he made sure he collected enough fruits to keep him well off in case it lasted long. He fashioned a few bucket like containers that would collect rain water for him.

So he was just about ready for this storm. He'd already been in his sheltered cave before it even began. He had a very tiring run before hand. He knew it would be time before he could go on a proper one...things were always so muddy after it rained, not the best for running and sometimes made it hard to hunt. 

The next morning he’s out trying to collect more food. He liked to go to the beach because it was sometimes easier to catch certain fish, or catch animals who tried to catch fish and gave him some variety in meat. What he found on the beach wasn’t just fist or vegetation though. 

@big-d-little-i-big-n-little-ozzo

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Prompt: It was Virgil angst day and there’s nothing to be done about it.

Words: 1,041 Triggers: Death Mention, Guns, needles, betrayal (kind of) Characters: Virgil, Roman Ships: Prinxiety Universe: The last of the rebellion Genre: Angst

AO3 Link

   “Today… Today is the day, huh,” Virgil swallowed heavily while he watched Roman put on his armor. Virgil’s tongue was strangely dry and the knot in his chest must have been 8 times the size as usual. The day came too soon. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes. There’s only a short window of opening to get to him, but I’ve been training for this for weeks, it’ll work. I promise,” Roman gave a weakly reassuring smile and nodded to Virgil while he zipped up his vest and picked up the next layer of protection. He needed enough to get there, but everyone knew he would not make it out alive.

  There was a big argument over who would do it. They had crushed the rebellion at every angle and there were only a few members left. And Roman, as the strongest physically but the weakest at the infrastructure management in the coming time, had volunteered to go. It made sense when they voted. Not that any face was happy when they did, and all the hands were hesitant. But they all agreed in the end that Roman was the best choice.

  But Virgil had been helping him train and getting closer to Roman. Seeing who Roman really was, instead of just the loud and determined member of the aristocracy that turned in favor of the people. He had what people needed after a major power shift. An enormous heart. A warm smile. Showmanship. Charm. The ability to dream big despite shit circumstances. Even a working knowledge of the bureaucracy in place, which Virgil thinks was an undervalued skill when they voted. Their old methods were all tainted and flawed, but knowing the systems in place would make it easier to transform them. It… didn’t make sense anymore. None of it made sense.

  The vote was wrong. It had to be wrong. And maybe Virgil couldn’t take seeing him go with the knowledge he’s never coming back. And maybe Virgil was an idiot and finally dropped his barriers enough to make a friend instead of just an ally. And it was the worse possible person to do that with, as it was someone who signed his own death certificate a month ago. But Virgil did, and he was here, watching Roman get geared up to go take a life and die trying. Virgil sniffed and rubbed his nose.

    “Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay Virge. I’ve got this. Things will be better for everyone,” Roman said, putting a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil shook his head. He couldn’t do this.

  “Please don’t go. We need you. We’ll find another plan. Please,” Virgil quietly pleaded with him, taking hold of Roman’s hand resting on his shoulder.

  “It has to be done. It took this long to find an opening in his security, Virgil. There are no other choices. I knew what I was signing up for when I volunteered. And I know those security holes, the layout, and the guard’s schedules by heart. And I’ve been training to move quickly and shoot with precision. I’m not backing down,” Roman said firmly, sounding proud of himself. But this wasn’t something to be proud of. This was a tragedy!

  “But there’s no way out, Roman! The security flaw is the only way in, but it can’t be used to escape!” Virgil shot, gripping Roman’s arm on his shoulder with both hands.

  “I know that. You knew that when you voted. Everyone knew that. But this has to end,” Roman said resolutely and reached his other hand up to hold Virgil’s. Virgil swallowed heavily and nodded. He knew Roman was stubborn. He knew deep down he wouldn’t change his mind. But it would have killed him if he didn’t try.

  Virgil sighed and released Roman’s arm. Roman nodded back with a bright smile he had no place sharing with Virgil. Not when he was marching to his death. The fact that he could smile that genuinely in the face of his literal demise was all the more reason Roman shouldn’t go. But there was no stopping him now, the fucking idiot. 

  Virgil turned away and went to his field kit to prep an adrenaline shot for Roman for an emergency. The vials gleamed at him under the harsh lights in the bunker. Virgil reached out for the amphetamines, but his eye caught on the sedative right next to it. Virgil shot a glance to Roman equipping his gun harness. He shook his head and reached out for the vial and a syringe. There was no turning back now.

  “Roman,” Virgil looked up hopefully to him, shifting closer.

  “I’m going, Virgil,” Roman said firmly, his face stern and his mouth set in a hard line.

  “I just… will you give me a hug goodbye?” Virgil said weakly, the tears in his eyes threatening to escape with every step closer. He had to do this.

  Roman nodded and finished buckling up his belt. Virgil took a deep breath as he stepped forward into Roman’s open arms and wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck.

  “I’m so sorry,” Virgil murmured in Roman’s ear.

  “It’ll be okay,” Roman reached around and rubbed Virgil’s back. Then Virgil sunk the needle in Roman and pressed down. “What the-” Roman shot, stiffening suddenly before his muscles went limp and he collapsed into Virgil’s arms. 

  “It will,” Virgil said solemnly as he lowered Roman to the floor. 

  “Why?” Roman said weakly and struggled to keep his eyes open.

  “I’m fixing the mistake we made. They need you more than me,” Virgil said, pulling Roman’s gun out of his harness and heading over to the equipment table to gear up.

  “No,” Roman’s voice was barely above a whisper. Virgil reached down and slid the glove off of Roman’s hand before kissing his knuckles and sliding it on to his own.

  “Then I need you to live more than I want to survive,” Virgil admitted quietly as he strapped himself into the body armor. Virgil watched Roman’s eyes closed with no remorse. He’d been training Roman this whole time. Roman may be stronger, but Virgil was faster, and he knew what to do. And he knew exactly who he was doing it for. 

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Twenty-One | Sacrifice] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ]

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“All right...there we are.” Gathering up the mixture of herbs, spices, and tea leaves, Ryū carefully bundles them in some cloth, tied shut with a ribbon. “Whenever a nightmare strikes, brew this in hot water and drink. It will ease your mind and urge your body to sleep.”

“Thank you...you’re a blessing, you are.”

The woman just gives a soft smile. “Thank the earth and its bounties, not me. I just know how to use them. Take care of yourself.”

Making his way out, the man plagued by ill dreams takes his leave, dipping his hat to another just making his way in. The second figure lingers a bit stiffly in the doorway, his own hat removed from his head and instead nervously wrung in his hands as he waits for the healer to notice him.

“Oh!” She comes up short, turning and seeing him at last. “I’m sorry - have you been waiting long?”

“No, just a moment. I, er…”

“Has it been a fortnight already? My how the time flies…”

“Yes ma’am, it...it does.”

“May I take a look?”

Nodding, the man comes further into the cabin as she flares the lamp hanging from the rafters. With careful hands, she takes and tilts his face to the light to better examine it.

Along one side, horrible claw marks mar the surface of his skin. Half-healed now, they look clean and healthy.

“They seem to be doing well...you’ve been keeping up with them, then?”

“Yes, ma’am. Every night, and every morning. Like you told me.”

Ryū smiles. “Good. I’m sorry I didn’t realize the day, I’ll have to mix it now. Do you mind a short wait?”

“Not at all. The rain forced us back, so I’ve nothing to do until it dries.”

“Yes, the weather has been something atrocious lately...soon Winter will be here.” Moving about in the one-room cabin, she begins pulling ingredients from drawers and cutting them from hanging samples. A mortar and pestle are taken from their shelf, herbs thrown into its groove to be mashed. “I dread the thought, but...it’s as Nature intends. We’ll be thankful come Spring thaw and planting.”

“Do you ever have a sour thought, Miss Suigin?” the man then dares to ask.

She offers a soft laugh in return. “Oh, I do. But I keep them inside so as not to sour the air, too. I’d much rather make it sweeter.”

“Oh you - you do that just fine.” His lips flicker upwards in an uncertain smile. Was that too forward…?

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing!” A warm smile lifts her lips, and he finds his chest fluttering. “Mister Uchiha, you’ll make me blush with compliments like that.”

“Well, it’s true! You’re the kindest soul in this little town, and you do well by all of us with your medicines. A kind word is the least I can spare you.”

That seems to leave her without a retort, working at her mixture for a moment in silence. “...I appreciate it. I do dote on everyone. Life out here is harsh, so...any little thing I can do to help folks along is good enough for me. Hardships are easier to face when we work together, and that’s done best with everyone of sound mind and sound body.”

Obito just watches as she goes about her mixing and mashing, wondering for the hundredth time how she knows all she knows. A score of books line a shelf...maybe it’s something written that she follows?

“All right...I think that’s done it. You know enough by now, but I’ll say it for my own peace of mind: take a sample on your finger and run it along each mark until they’re all covered. Let it sit overnight, and for as long as you can stand it in the morning before you wash it off. A few more weeks, and we’ll have those wounds scarred shut. It might not be the prettiest thing, but...it’ll keep the wounds clean and minimize the scarring.” She then gives him a curious tilt of her head. “And the rest of your symptoms?”

“Hardly notice them, ma’am. None of those strange headaches, no flashes of anger. All gone.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Thank you, miss Suigin...truly, I -?”

She waves aside his thanks, having heard it many times before. “I know well enough by now how grateful you are. But save your breath for yourself, and take care. If something goes awry, let me know straight away.”

“I will.”

“Go on, then - get some rest, it will be dark soon.”

Nodding politely, he takes up his medicine and takes his leave. By now the downpour has faded to a light misting, the smell of cold air creeping into the evening. She’s right...Winter is just around the bend, and he still has so much to do before the first snow falls.

Around the corner of the cabin, he doesn’t see a pair of jealous eyes watching him, turning from the window and fading into the dark.

Once home, he lights the lamp by his bed, taking it to the broken mirror he’s got hanging on a wall. Every time he catches sight of his reflection, he has to grimace. Whatever that beast was that attacked him that night...it sure left its mark. But thanks to the village healer’s efforts, the angry red tissue is calming, finally starting to close. The pain is nearly nonexistent now, and the strange feelings he’d felt have all but disappeared.

She really is amazing…

Pushing the thought away as his face warms, Obito carefully unravels the hide the paste she’s made him rests in. It smells oddly spicy, but never stings. Practiced fingers delve into it, watching his reflection to carefully trace it along every mark.

It feels oddly cold...but maybe that’s just because of his prior blush.

Once it’s all in place, he fixes himself some supper to let it dry, lest he smear it on his pillow. The stew he’d left to simmer while out working it’s a bit dry, but edible. The recipes his grandmother taught him before passing have served him well, but...he can’t help but wish he had a wife to do so alongside him.

Traitorously, he thinks again of the healer. Oddly enough, despite what he considers to be great beauty and soothing manners, she’s yet to be married. Part of him wonders if her position keeps most folks at bay, or...if it’s the quiet, lingering superstition about her. While most everyone depends on her concoctions, some find her skill with them...odd. Add in her unique appearance, and some have dared to whisper witch.

But no one has outright accused her, so the clergy of their little village have yet to act. Obito finds the notion ridiculous. Some plants harm, some plants feed, and some plants heal. Knowing the difference doesn’t take otherworldly knowledge, or whispers from the devil. Anyone daring to call her some evil spellcaster would be deeply mistaken. Only has she ever helped the people of their little town, never harmed!

Someday...he might muster up the courage to ask her. But for now, it doesn’t feel proper. His work in the village crop fields earns him a miser’s pay, and his cabin is hardly suitable...it needs work. He’ll only make her an offer once he feels that offer is worthy.

So for now, he’ll sit and sigh at the thought.

He tides up after his meal, gently prodding the poultice to ensure that it’s dry before slipping into bed. He’ll have to do the same routine come morning, then the next night. Over and over until the wounds are fully closed. But he doesn’t mind the effort if it means keeping himself whole.

And getting to see the healer every fortnight for more.

Autumn continues to pass at pace, the weather slowly chilling as Obito and the rest of the farmhands work to bring in the last of the harvests and store them away for winter. Animals too are butchered, salted and dried to cover the long Winter months. It’s often a narrow window that they survive the harshest part of the year. At least one life is typically lost. But they all fare far better together than they would apart.

But two days before he once again needs to visit the healer...something changes.

On his way to the fields, Obito slows as he spots an odd sight. A rather sizable group is gathered outside the local church. It’s not Sunday...they aren’t congregating for that. Then what…?

Trying to weave his way to the front, he realizes the crowd forms a ring around a space just before the doors. And at the center is the pastor...and the healer.

Her face is taut with apprehension. “If I’m to be tried, then I want to face my accuser.”

“So you can hex the poor soul? I think not. They will be kept out of sight for their safety, should you decide to loose the devil upon them. They claim to have seen you practicing the dark arts within your home more than once. These accusations must be heard, and you must be tried for your crimes.”

...oh no…

“I’ve committed no crimes! If mixing plants for a person’s health is a crime, then so is any other harmless task! How many of you have benefited from my work, my knowledge?” She turns imploringly to the crowd, desperation in her eyes.

To Obito’s amazement, not a single soul speaks up, all glancing aside in shame as they refuse to admit it. In his chest, he feels a growing heat of anger.

“Me!”

At once, they all turn to him, parting as he shoves his way forward. “Me, and nearly everyone else! If this woman’s intent was to harm, she would never help us! How many wounds has she patched? How many fevers has she broken? If her intent was to harm...she would never have lifted a finger for us. Half of us would be dead or dying if not for her help. That sounds far less like the work of the devil than it does of an angel.”

Across the gap, her face alights, staring at him hopefully.

“A ruse to cover her tracks,” the priest hisses in retort. “She lulls us into a false sense of safety, of security...while in the dark she conspires with devils and demons! She is cunning...but the eyes of the righteous have seen through her veil!”

Obito’s teeth grit, and he tries to move forward. But arms hold him back, even as he struggles. “Those eyes lie!”

“Throw him in jail to keep him out of the way,” the pastor orders, looking down his nose at Obito. “We cannot let his infatuation with this she-devil interrupt our just and legal proceedings. If God demands a sacrifice to keep our village pure...so be it. Let the trial commence!”

Grunting and yowling as he’s dragged away, Obito does his best to fight back. But it’s one against many, and he’s soon thrown into the singular cell of their little jail.

Hands grip the bars. “Let me out! She’s innocent! Innocent, I tell you!”

The men who dragged him only sneer, turning their backs and shutting the door behind them.

With the slam of the entrance, a sense of finality seems to overcome him. He can hardly escape...and he’s the only one willing to defend her. Surely they’ll convince themselves of her guilt to lay blame on one soul: let her bear their collective sins and be washed away.

No...no!

Slowly, he sinks to his knees, hands still gripping the bars. It’s not fair...how could they do this…?

...he never got to…

The agony of silence and unknowing is torture. The town constable brings him scant meals, refusing to speak as Obito peppers him with questions of the goings-on. A day passes, then another, and another.

That third day, he realizes two things. That he has not been applying her poultice, and that today would have been the day for his next visit. The knowledge clenches his heart. As before, a headache has been creeping up on him, his temper fraying...but that may just be his present circumstances.

He has to get out of here...he has to free her…! But how...how…?!

As the day fades, night slowly blanketing the village...Obito realizes it’s too light. Beyond the single barred window, flickering light begins passing by.

Torches.

Hauling himself up, he gasps as - haloed against the darkness of the woods beyond the village - her cabin goes up in smoke. Hungry flames reach skyward, as if seeking to consume the stars.

“No…!”

Not far from it, a pyre has been erected. And led from the courthouse, fighting and screaming, is Ryū. Hands bound, she’s fitted amongst the kindling and straw to the wooden pole at the center.

They’re going to burn her…!

Rage seems to fill his veins with molten magma, burning from the inside out. Hollering incoherently, he pulls at the bars despite knowing he cannot budge them. Torches are laid at the base of the pyre, and like her home, flames begin to climb.

And then, atop the fiery halo, pale moonlight breaks over the scene as clouds shift aside to bare the full moon.

Like a blow to the head, Obito’s headache reaches a fever pitch. He collapses, clutching his head with a howl of anguish. His entire body seems to pulse with anger and pain. It burns...it burns…!

Outside, the crowd turns to the jail as a ragged wail breaks through the night.

And then, with a shower of stone, the wall bursts forth. Eyes a molten gold, a dark beast crawls from the rubble, teeth bared with a chest-shaking growl.

“Monster!”

“I-it’s come for its mistress!”

Roaring with a flare of spittle and glint of pearlescent teeth, the creature lanches forward as the terrified villagers scatter. He wants to tear, to gut, to destroy!

But first!

With a leap, he reaches the pyre, ignoring the flames and clawing her bounds to shreds. She coughs and wheezes from the smoke, but gestures desperately to the singeing fur of his side.

“O-Obito…!”

But he spares no time for himself, easing her over his shoulder as her form goes limp, too exhausted to stay awake. Lip raised and snarling, he stares down the villagers with their muskets and pitchforks. Oh how he longs to shatter their bones and carve their flesh!

For now, however, there are more important things he must do.

In a half-lope, he lowers to three limbs, one spared to hold her as he flees. A few foolhardy humans try to chase, but he’s swift as the wind, disappearing into the moonlit trees and underbrush. Soon, the only sounds are those of his rushing breath, pluming in the cold as they leave the village behind.

Only once he feels they’re a safe distance does he slow, coming to a stop at the bank of a creek. Gently, he sets her along the sandy shore. A whine crawls up his throat. The hem of her dress is singed, heat blisters along her bare feet where the flames had crept close. As carefully as he can, he urges them into the cool water.

A gasp sounds, and he balks as Ryū suddenly wakes at the feeling. “A-ah…!” Her voice is raw, growling and wincing from the smoke she breathed. Struggling to sit upright, she looks to her feet before her gaze lifts to her companion.

She doesn’t look at all afraid...but rather, sad.

“...I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I thought I could keep it at bay, but...without your medicine…”

He crouches beside her, head tilting.

“...there was wolfsbane in the poultice. It was treating your wounds, but...also the infection of the beast you were marked by. If they’d closed without you missing a dose, then...it would have been held at bay. But now...there’s nothing I can do. With every turn of the moon, you’ll change. It’s all my fault…”

Ears falling, he lets his snout come to rest at her cheek. It wasn’t you...it was them…! He longs to speak, but can’t muster words in his shifted form.

Rather than retreat, she carefully raises hands to hold his massive jaw. “...your burns…!”

Looking at his side, Obito realizes he was indeed wounded...perhaps this hide is too thick to feel?

Ryū begins urging water up to the melted flesh, earning a flinch. “Sorry, sorry...but we need to keep them clean. I think I can find what I need here to make a poultice…” From the plants along the bank she does her best to make a mash with a clean river rock, tearing the hem of her skirt to bind it. “...it’s not perfect, but...it should help. You’ll bear these marks as a man, too. And all for my sake...but...thank you. You saved my life.”

There’s another careful nuzzle to her throat.

“...they were right, you know.”

He pauses.

“I am a witch,” she admits softly. “But not the kind they believe in. I come from the earth, I know its secrets, I bend them to my will. But never could I harm someone. I’m inspired not by the devil, but by the mother of us all. I knew it was only a matter of time before they accused me. Their beliefs always lead them to the wrong conclusions…”

The pair go silent for a time. The creek serenades them with its gentle trickles.

“...I know not where we’ll go. What we can do. But...we are alive. And come morning, when the moonlight fades, you’ll be a man once more. That, at least, is something. But Winter is fast approaching...we’ll need to be swift.” Gentle hands stroke at the coarse fur of his snout. “...will you go where I go?”

Obito brightens, declining his head in a nod.

“...then together we will go.”

     OKAY...I actually really like this one xD It could be longer but I need to catch up dfkjggh - still managed to hit my 3k goal mark though! Hopefully tonight I can get another one done and be back on track lol      We have a proper werewolf this time, not a Nightwalker werewolf xD And he is ANGER! Do not touch his witchy waifu! Also I didn’t use any other characters cuz...I didn’t know who to use so it’s just the duo this time lol so fill in the blanks any way you want!      Anyway, I have irl things to sit and wait for (and...actually do) so I better run for now, but hopefully I can be back in time to get more done today! Thanks for reading~

[imagineclaireandjamie]

The Tagalong - Part Twenty-One

Fergus disobeys Jamie’s order to return to Lallybroch and instead follows them all the way to Craigh na Dun, inadvertently following Claire through the stones.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty

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

Brianna began fussing and clinging to Claire as they approached Craig na Dun again. Roger grit his teeth and followed Claire up the hill, carrying her pack for her so she could calm Brianna as much as was possible. 

“I know, darling, I know,” Claire shushed, her hand rubbing Brianna’s back. “But you want to find Fergus, don’t you? That’s what I need you to do right now, honey. Think about Fergus and how badly you want to see him. Think of him and hold tight to me.” 

Brianna’s death grip around Claire’s neck cinched tighter and it was enough for Claire to let go of Brianna with one hand.

“Roger, you hold tight to me too, alright?” Claire instructed. “It won’t be pleasant and I know you’re scared, but if you focus on where we’re going—think about Fergus—it’ll make it easier. Don’t focus on what we’re doing, focus on what’s going to happen when we get there. Because we will get through this next bit and when we do, we need to stick together. Right?”

Roger readjusted the pack over his arm and reached up with his hand to grab hold of Claire’s elbow. With his free hand, he held it out toward the stone and waited, watching Claire. 

She did the same. “On three,” she nodded. “One…”

“Two…” Roger murmured.

“Three,” Brianna sobbed into Claire’s neck out of habit. 

Claire and Roger put their hands to the stone.

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

Brianna was crying and screaming and Roger was trying to calm her. Claire could hear it but she struggled to move. Everything hurt. And this time it wasn’t just the headache of being rattled or the joint pain from feeling like she’d been dropped from several stories. She would swear she felt it in her very organs, as if they’d been ripped out and then shoved back into her body. 

She was able to turn her head before she vomited. 

There were fresh hysterics from Brianna and a pressure on her chest that suggested her daughter had broken loose from Roger and was climbing on top of her. Roger, for his part, came around her other side and looked down into her face, relief evident on his. 

“Mrs. Claire? Are ye alright?” he asked, hopeful. 

No, she wasn’t alright. She knew in that moment she could never survive another trip through the stones. So long as they were where they were supposed to be and found Fergus, she would happily give up the luxuries of her twentieth century life again. Anything to get away from these horrid stones once and for all. 

“How… long… how long have I been…?” 

“I thought ye were deid!” Roger exclaimed now that his fears had proven false. 

“I feel halfway there,” Claire muttered. She was able to move her arms. She brought them over her body till she was able to make out the shape of Brianna thrown across her, a hand sliding up into her daughter’s curls to caress the solid curve of her head and offer reassurance. “It’s alright, Bree,” she soothed. “It’s alright. We’re here now and we’re going to find Fergus. It’s alright…”

“‘Gus here?” Brianna asked, sniffling. She still shook a little with each breath but the wailing and sobbing had subsided. 

Claire braced herself on one elbow and tried to sit up. Roger was behind her in an instant, helping. Brianna rolled over down Claire’s torso so that she was lying on her back across Claire’s thighs, looking up at her mother. Claire bent her head, her curls curtaining around the two of them. 

Brianna smiled up at her, tears still shining in her eyes. 

“We’re gonna be alright,” Claire said again, this time with more confidence. Her daughter was alive and with her. Roger was safe and no longer alone either. She ached for Reverend Wakefield and what he must be feeling, but she’d done what she could in Inverness before they left to return to Craig na Dun. Hopefully it would reach him and give him some measure of comfort in Roger’s continued absence. 

“What do we do now, Mrs. Claire?” Roger asked. He had sat on the grass beside them, pulling the pack into his lap and clutching it like a stuffed toy. 

“If we’re where we ought to be, there’s a cabin down the hill a little ways. We can make our way down there and have a shelter there for the night while we recover. It’ll also give us a place to change,” Claire explained, sliding Brianna off her legs. She was beginning to get real feeling back in them and Brianna’s weight threatened to cut off her circulation. 

“Change?”

“There are clothes in there, or at least, some things we might be able to adapt to blend in better. It’s more for me and Bree than you. I wasn’t sure how long it would take to find you and Fergus or when we might end up, but we can fashion something suitable. After a few days on the road, it probably won’t matter too much. So long as we can keep warm at night, we won’t want too much extra weight.” 

Claire rolled onto her knees and cringed against the sharp paints that shot down her shins. No, she wouldn’t be able to go far, even after resting the night. She wouldn’t be able to move much faster even if she didn’t have the children to keep her moving slow. It would be several days before they could hope to reach Lallybroch, but they would manage. They had to. It was the only place she could think of where Fergus might go hoping to be taken in. She had to hope that Jenny and Ian wouldn’t mind being asked if they could take in three more. 

If it proved too much of a strain… she would think of something. France or perhaps the colonies. Fergus was old enough to be more help than hindrance and Roger’s experiences of the last week appeared to have shaken some of the innocence and mischief from his inclinations—something she quietly mourned on his behalf. 

Claire forced herself to stand and immediately, Brianna was at her leg, pulling on her and reaching, “Up, Mama, up.” 

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

They made it to the cabin. It was as sparse as Claire remembered it but there were signs of recently disturbed dust. The bench hadn’t been wiped clean before a body had lain there—a body whose size was about the same as Fergus. 

Brianna chattered and sang to herself, standing at the bench and clapping her hands in the dust. She sneezed and then laughed as the dust particles hung in the air, caught in a bright shaft of sunlight. 

Claire and Roger went through the pack and Claire changed her clothes as best as she could in the corner of the room without help. Her body remembered the routine of it, but her muscles were both out of practice and sore from the ordeal of traveling through the stones. She had her hands still up in her hair, pinning it out of her face when Brianna turned around to show off her dirty hands. 

Her blue eyes went wide and she toddled over to her mother, hands reaching for the unfamiliar woolen skirt. Claire intercepted Brianna and swept her off her feet, into the air with a squeal of excitement. 

“Do you want to change too?” Claire crooned. “Do you want to look more like Mama?” 

What she’d managed for Brianna wasn’t too far off the sorts of dresses she was used to, especially since Claire refused to worry about trying to get Brianna to keep a cap on her head. She didn’t want to wear one herself, though she might change her mind for both of them as they walked in the sun the next day. 

She gave Roger a jacket that would be warmer than what he had and helped to camouflage the outlandishness of the rest of his attire. 

They had bought more food while in Inverness and should have enough stores to last at least a week, closer to two. With only her memory to guide her as to the direction, it would likely take them longer to reach Lallybroch. 

Sitting on the bench and looking out the window as the sun set and Brianna played on the floor with Roger, Claire debated the merits of heading to Inverness to secure some sort of transportation. She wouldn’t be able to afford a carriage or even a cart. She might manage to swing the cost of a horse but the last thing she needed was another living creature to wrangle. Roger might be able to ride, but keeping Brianna on would be next to impossible without riding herself and she didn’t know if she dared risk riding with both children and no one to help. 

She also didn’t want any further delays. She might not know the exact route to Lallybroch from Craig na Dun (not without the roads clearly paved and marked), but Inverness was the wrong way. 

So they set out on foot at dawn, Claire reminding Brianna that Fergus was waiting for them every time she slowed down or whined. She carried her daughter while she napped and Roger carried her piggyback for stretches. They made crude camps in the shelter of trees or a hillside or any other cover they could find. And slowly they made their way closer and closer to Lallybroch. 

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

“There it is,” Claire said as they crested the top of a hill and the valley spread out before them. It was the same hill where she had stopped the car when she’d driven Fergus and Brianna to Lallybroch for their picnic. Brianna wouldn’t remember and Fergus… Well, with any luck they were looking down on him now. 

“And ye’re sure tha’s where he’ll be?” Roger asked, nervous. The extended time on the road had worn away his faith in the plan. 

“If he isn’t, we’ll at least find some friendly faces and a place to stay for a few days while we decide what to do next,” Claire remarked.

“Gus dere?” Brianna asked. Hearing they were close, she began to perk up. Of course, the nap she’d taken in Claire’s arms had helped too. Claire set her on the ground and arched her back as much as her clothing allowed. 

“Only one way to find out,” she said and they began to head down the hill toward the gate.

[love-and-monsters]

Alien Encounter Pt. 6: The Great Outdoors

I really apologize for the lateness of this piece! I had a very hectic week at work because of the Fourth of July, then I wrote up the entire chapter only for my computer to restart and eat half of it, so I ended up having to rewrite it. Hopefully I’ll be able to get the next chapter out in a timely manner! Without further ado, here’s your story.

The stifling, hideous heat finally broke two weeks after it started. The humidity started to take intermittent breaks and the rains came less and less frequently. It was a relief to not be constantly soaked in sweat and Valain seemed relieved that I was able to actually engage with the world again. But my improved condition came with a slight drawback; I was getting bored.          

Valain’s home was small and, even including the balcony, I’d spent far too much time in every inch of it. I had practically memorized the pattern of the grain of every piece of wood. I could tell exactly which floorboard gave even the slightest of squeaks. I even knew that there was a small group of what I assumed were some kind of insect, or insect-like animal, living in the crack between the wall and the floor. I was pretty sure that I knew the house better than Valain himself.

Unfortunately, actually getting to go outside was kind of a problem.

“Look,” I said, “I don’t want to be outside for that long! I just want to stop being stuck in this house. I am going to go stir crazy if I don’t do something other than stare at the walls.”

Valain looked sympathetic, but firm. “It’s not safe for you. You can’t even walk in the swamp. How are you going to get around?”

I hesitated. “You could carry me?” I offered. “You’ve done it before.”

He sighed. “Sure, I suppose. But what if I run into someone while I’m out? Or something? No one else can see you and it’ll be hard to evade a predator if you’re clinging to my back.”

“We don’t have to go far from the house. We can go at night! I don’t care, I just need to get out of the house!” I pleaded. Valain looked into my eyes and immediately turned his head away. I could see his resistance crumbling and he let out a strangled groan.

“Fine.” He sagged slightly, ears and tail drooping. “We can go out.”

I threw my arms around his neck, nearly bowling him over with my enthusiasm. He hugged me back for a moment before carefully breaking apart. “We can’t go out for long,” he said, “just to be safe. Maybe a sel?”

I had learned that was roughly around an hour, maybe ten minutes longer. “That’s fine.” I would have taken thirty seconds out of the house. “When are we going?”

He cast a glance over at the sky. “After sunset,” he said. That was still hours away, but I had been patient for weeks. I could be patient a little bit longer.

Gradually, the sun dipped below the horizon. Valian walked around the house, gathering the bag and light that he took when he had patrols. “Here,” he said, pressing a light into my hands. “Oh, and this too.” He pressed something that looked like a party popper into my hands.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Flash detonator. It’s just in case we get separated. Just pull on the end and it will go off. It will cause a bright flash that will hopefully scare anything of and let me know where you are.” The fins on his head flattened. “Hopefully you won’t need it.”

“Right,” I said, taking the flash detonator from him. His hands stayed around mine for an extra moment before loosening and he stood. After taking a bag and strapping it around his front he crouched down next to me and gestured with his tail.

“Come on, if you’re still coming,” he said. I grabbed onto his shoulders and wrapped me legs around him. His skin was still smooth and faintly damp, but the water-resistant clothes I was wearing mean that I was still comfortable. Valain stood, wobbling slightly on his feet before finding his balance again. He lifted his hands and lay them over mine. “Holding on all right?” he asked.

“I’m good,” I said. He pulled my hands together so they were linked and gave them a squeeze before hopping out the door.

He moved down the tree backwards, with surprising speed. We hit the ground hard and he bent over onto all fours. His ears twitched, swiveling as he searched for any out-of-place sounds. “Hear anything?” I whispered.

“You,” he laughed. “Other than that, no. Hold on tight.” I could feel his muscles tense a second before he took off like a shot.

I bobbed against his back as he ran. My head nearly slammed into his shoulder every time he hit the ground. Valain charged forward alarmingly fast. I’d ridden something in a similar fashion years ago. Magnet motor bikes were ridden by lying almost flat, but they were a perfectly smooth rise. There wasn’t as much bobbing as there was when I was on Valain’s back. But I had to admit that I was preferring this ride. It was much more organic. It took some practice to fall into a rhythm, but once I figured out how to move my body against his, it became a much easier ride.

After about ten minutes, Valain slowed to nearly a stop. I loosened my arms around his neck and sat up a little.

The forest glowed. Luminescent strips of moss or lichen clung to the trees and I could see little skittering creatures with bright blue lights running down their bodies in the root. Not too far away, I could see something wriggling through the undergrowth. It was nearly the same size as Valain.

“Where are we?” I asked. The ground was very damp here; I could hear Valain’s feet squishing as he walked through it.

“I thought this would be the area you would be able to actually walk in,” he said. “It’s damp, but it’s got enough vegetation to create a sort of net for you to walk on. And it’s a good place for me, too. I’ve been itching for a swim.”      

At that point, I realized that some of the luminescent lights on the ground weren’t from animals; they were reflections. In front of us was an enormous, pitch black lake.

Valain crept up to the edge of the lake and eased me off his back. “I haven’t been out here in a while,” he said. He stretched out, unfurling his fins. “Do you mind if I go into the water?”

“Sure, go for it.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Valain plunged forward into the water. His tail lifted above the surface of the water for a moment, then plunged beneath the surface with barely a ripple.

I crept closer to the water’s edge until the lake was lapping over my shoes. It was impossible to see where Valain had gone. The surface of the water was black as tar. There wasn’t even a ripple in the water to show where he was. Minutes stretched on and on, and even though I knew he could survive just fine under the water, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. He’d all but vanished. If he never came up again, I would be alone. I peered out into the abyss of the lake, leaning as far forward as I dared.

Valain resurfaced right under my face, nearly cracking our foreheads together. I wobbled, unbalanced, and he had to grab me before I fell in. “You scared me!” I gasped.

“Sorry.” He pushed me carefully back onto shore, sliding partially out of the water. “Like I said, I haven’t been able to swim for a while, not in a lake like this one.” He beamed out over the water. “You can come in with me, if you like.”

I stared into the inky water. I’d never been swimming before. Water was one of the most conserved elements in space. Even showers were limited. An alien lake seemed like a poor choice for my first try.

“Nah, I’m okay. You can go back to swimming. I’ll just stay here on shore.”

Valain’s smile wavered, but he nodded and drifted back from the shore. In a sinuous motion, he rolled over and dipped beneath the surface.

I crouched on the shore. Sometimes he would poke his head out of the water or his tail would lift above the surface so I got an idea of where he was, but the more I watched, the further he got from shore.

He was distant enough that I could barely see him when I heard something move behind me. I turned to see a hulking, hooved creature walk out of the undergrowth.

It reminded me of a rhinoceros, with armor-plated skin and thick horns protruding fromits face, though it was smaller. It was only barely taller than I was. As it approached, I saw that it was less bulky than a rhino; it looked more like a hooved dinosaur or dragon.

A moment after that, I realized that the forest had gone completely silent. There was no longer the faint, trilling cries that I’d heard before. Everything was silent. The animal stared at me for a moment, then gradually, bright yellow lights spread up along its face and spine. Its eyes narrowed.

“Shit,” I muttered as the creature bunched up its haunches and lunged.

The plants that provided a nice mesh to stand on provided a far less comfortable surface for running. I scrambled out of the way as the creature made its first charge, but one of my feet plunged down into the mesh, tangling in the plants. The creature seemed to have no similar issues; when it charged past me, I saw why. It wasn’t actually hooved. What had looked like hooves from a difference were actually rounded, fin-like protrusions that created a sort of snowshoe, keeping its weight spread over the mesh so it could move.

It rounded on me again as I scrambled to untangle myself. Somehow, my foot had plunged down into the mesh and immediately become so tangled that I couldn’t easily extricate it. A stream of curses issued from my mouth as I pulled on my foot. The creature sized me up, teeth bared. Just as it started to move again, I gave up on my foot. Instead, I plunged my hands into my bag and pulled out the flash detonator. My shaking fingers yanked the plunger at the end just as it was about to barrel over me.

The light that exploded from the end was like someone had lit a miniature sun. I heard the creature shriek in confused pain, skidding to a stop only a few feet from trampling me over. My vision was covered in swimming dark spots. If that didn’t get rid of it, I realized, I had effectively blinded myself. There was no way I was going to escape it now.

“Valain!” I yelled. “Valain!” I couldn’t hear anything over the whining of the creature. Was he still in the water? Did he even know what had happened? Where was he?

“Anya!” His voice was right behind me. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“I don’t know, that thing came after me and I slipped and had to use that flash thing on it.” Valain’s hands felt down my calf and carefully unhooked the plants from my foot, easing my out of the hole. “I can’t see,” I said urgently.

“That’ll wear off in a minute or two.” There was a low growl. “Hold on a minute, I have to get rid of the big guy. Stay still.” His hands vanished from my legs and leaves rustled as he moved away from me. Panic stabbed at my chest. I couldn’t hear or see where he’d gone. It was completely isolating, like my world had shrunken to just the area around me.

Valain shouted something inarticulate, immediately followed by a slamming noise and a sharp, keening scream. It was so harsh that it took me a moment to realize that he was the one who had yelled. The sound of heavy footfalls retreated into the forest and the area became deathly silent.

“Valain?” I called, reaching out as if trying to feel my way to him.

“I’m here.” He touched my shoulder and I had to stop myself from jumping.

“What happened? Are you okay?” I reached out, trying to feel for any injuries. He pulled away from me, taking hold of my wrists and pushing them down.

“It’s fine.” His voice was tense.

“I don’t believe you,” I said. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m all right. We just need to get out of here first. How much can you see?”

I blinked a few times. There were still a lot of dark spots in front of my eyes, blotting out most of my vision. They’d faded a little, but I still really couldn’t see much. “Basically nothing.”

“Okay. Then I’m going to guide your hands.” He took hold of my wrists again and pulled my hands around his neck. “Grab on.”

I grabbed my hands and he leaned forward onto all fours, lifting me up onto his back. After a moment, he took off running.

There was something off about the way he was running. It no longer had the smooth rhythm it had before. Instead, it was stumbling and uneven. He kept listing to one side, and trying to lean away from his bad side didn’t help. It seemed to throw him off balance more.

Finally, after several nerve-wracking minutes, we arrived at the base of his tree. Valain reared back onto his hind legs and peered at the tree. I could feel his anxiety almost radiating through his skin. “Are you going to be able to climb that?” I asked.

He bristled, fins lifting, and his tail lashed. “Yes,” he snapped. With that, he leapt up, digging into the bark with his nails. The climb was slow and obviously laborious, but he managed to make it all the way up the tree and onto the floor of his house.

My vision had slowly been returning as he carried me and now that I was off his back and able to get a good look at him, I saw exactly why he had been struggling to much.

Blood smeared all over his front and still weeping from his right arm, which bore a deep gash. “Holy shit,” I said. “Valain, that looks really bad.”

He looked down at his arm and I saw him swallow. “It doesn’t look good, no,” he agreed. “I need, uh. I need my medical kit. In the cabinet, over the sink.”

I scrambled to retrieve the kit and pull it open. It wasn’t exactly sparse, but considering some of the kits I was used to, it was pretty low-tech. There were bandages and a small suture kit and some disinfectants and a single bottle of pills. “What do you need?” I asked, trying to ignore the fact that I was working with essentially dark-age medical materials.

“The bandages. We need to bind the cut as tightly as possible, so that it heals shut.” He held out his arm for me. “Wrap it and clip the bandages shut.” I reached for his arm and he took a sharp breath in. “I should warn you,” he said quickly. “I am going to scream.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I just nodded. Valain sat back, slumping against the wall and turned his head away. He gave a tiny nod.

With that, I started to wrap. Valain jumped and whimpered. “Tighter,” he said in a strangled voice. “It needs to be really tight.” I took a deep breath and wrapped the bandages tighter.

He did scream at that. It was a horrible, aching sound, the kind of sound made because you just can’t stop yourself. Tears dribbled down his face and his fins bristled. I could feel him trembling with tension. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I whispered as I wrapped the bandages as quickly as I could manage.

Finally, I clipped the bandage shut and Valain slumped over to one side. He was panting and shaking. My trembling hands were soaked in blood. Quite a lot was bloody, actually. There were even a few splotches on the new bandages. Slowly, I stood up and started to pull out rags to mop at least a little of the mess.

Valain stirred as I sat down next to him. He looked a bit sick and shaky, but he still reached out to help me. “Go lie down or something,” I said. “You look like a mess.”

“Mmm.” He slumped back again. “I should still help. Guards are supposed to be self-sufficient.”

“It was my fault you got hurt, so I’ll clean it up. It’s the least I can do.”

Valain frowned at me, fins flattening to his head. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t bite me.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “You know what I meant. If I hadn’t asked to go out, we wouldn’t have been there.”

“It was my idea to go to the lake in the first place,” Valain insisted. “It’s the alkan mating season. They’re more aggressive around now. I should have been more careful about the area we were in.”

“Fine,” I said. “Then it’s both of our faults. We both screwed this one up.”

“I can live with that,” Valain agreed. He sagged, half-slumping to the floor, but his eyes stayed open as he watched me mop up the blood and wash off the rag. When I was done, he gestured for me to sit down next to him.

“Do you need something?” I asked. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and slumped over until his head was resting on me.

“Stay with me,” he said in a sleepy sigh. I settled down next to him and he curled close to me, almost wrapping his body around mine. It was like dealing with a very large, hairless cat. It was nice, though, to feel him cuddle up to me and happily fall asleep. I felt… loved. Trusted. I ran my fingertips over the top of his head, feeling his fins. My heart swelled as he nuzzled close to my chest and butterflies darted through my stomach.

It was… perfect.        

[ashhdolll]

One Semester

Part One

Have you ever made love before? Not that quick, rough, pumping sex you have after a night out and the high from that “You up?” text has got you going, no I’m talking about real love making. The love is writhing and rotating between the two of you, I mean you can FEEL it being created as your bodies do that familiar dance. You want more, they want more, because what you’re creating isn’t just physically pleasurable, it stimulates your whole being... See I’ve done that just once in my life before and it has fucked everything up for me every since.

Senior year of college in Greensboro all you want is a fucking blunt, a paycheck and your degree. That’s it. If you haven’t joined an organization by now don’t even worry about it, you’re officially almost nonexistent on campus and that’s how you wanted it to be.

While a good majority of my friends had graduated in May, my senior year had extended to the fall semester so I would have to wait until December to turn my tassel. The fall graduation also extended my living situation another year that I had not planned nor saved for and why would I? There was weed to buy nigga!

To help my parents pay for my rent I decided to return to my old fast food job, I won’t say which one but if you have four dollars and some change you had a nice meal that could hold you for two hours. It was my second go round working there (I had previously worked there my sophomore year) and the manager, Ms. B was just as much of a crazy pastor’s wife looking bitch as before. Just imagine Shirley Caesar 5’9 with permanent shoulder pads and Shenehneh’s wig-you see it? Okay, that was my manager, she was loud, mean, blunt, and still one of the best women I know. She was the type of grandmother that my sensitive soul couldn’t handle so God sent her to me in another way-every reprimand stung for me and I had to learn not to take it personally. She was strong and I loved that about her and she loved me too. I was great with the customers inside and even better with them when I worked the drive thru, coming back to that job was like riding a bike. Listening to an order with four number 3 meals, two large and two medium. Oh and can one of the drinks be a half and half vanilla/chocolate shake? She loved how I would shove the ice in the cups, pour drinks and begin taking another order all before the former car has even paid for their meal. I had to be like that or Ms. B was going to bitch me out in front of everyone and loudly too. Her voice was like the crack of the whip, almost everybody would jump or got into their respective places when they knew she was around or heard her coming. She noticed everything which always annoyed me when I would be trying to sneak a four piece nugget in my pocket to snack on so that I could soothe the hunger pains stabbing my stomach.

I worked five days a week and also had class five days a week so morning shift was my friend. Waking up at 7:30am just barely making it to the 8am shift was a real struggle for me, especially since my shift was supposed to start at the time I got up. But, I had gotten used to it, and at eight in the morning my work started. Slicing tomatoes, breaking up red onions, opening fresh packs of mayonnaise (six containers of each) and also making bacon.

Now the bacon was the hard part. In the morning it was a bit easier since we opened at 10am. If I had gotten to work at my scheduled time I may not have been so overwhelmed but it was my senior year and if I didn’t want to be in my class I needed to graduate what the hell did I look like rushing to work for less than $9 an hour?

There was a process to the bacon that is simply too long to explain. In verbatim, there are six sheet pans you use to cook the bacon in the oven at a time. Six pans = one tin container of bacon. Before morning shift starts, Ms. B wanted ten containers of bacon ready. Two for each sandwich maker and then another six on the side over a warmer filled with a a bit of boiling water-to keep it hot. It was a tiring process, bacon got too burnt? Put another six in, start again. Bacon not done yet? Keep it in for another three minutes then it’ll be perfect. But shit, I haven’t even starting putting the fucking mayo in smaller tins, gotta go to the free- ‘JADA DID YOU CUT UP THEM TOMATOES YET?’ Ms. B would yell that from her office, she knew I forgot. Lemme get these tomatoes. Slicing, slicing, slicing, putting them in the tin containers. Slicing, slicing slicing, more containers. Slicing, slicing, cut your left pointer finger. Red drips down and the pain is almost not there but at the same time you can feel it. “JADA IS THAT BACON BURNING??”

Got to start another six pans.

These were my mornings from May to December. It would usually just be me, Ms. B and another older lady, Ms. Lydia who for some reason enjoyed being Ms. B’s bitch although they were around the same age and same height. Always “yes ma’am”-ing her like a house slave. By 10am the orders started and I was always the one taking orders until about 11 or 11:30, making my job duties change to taking orders and money, washing dishes, cutting bacon to put in the fridge so that it’d be ready for whoever my replacement was and trying not to burn my final six pans of bacon.

Either Jessica or Devon would come in and take over taking orders while I rushed finished my other duties before 1:30pm which was when I was off because at 2pm, I had class. If Jessica was coming in, it was definitely going to be a giggle fest. The customers loved her and so did I. She was five foot even, had beautiful caramel skin was just a naturally beautiful woman with brown playful eyes. All types of men wanted her affection but her girlfriend was the apple of her eye, she couldn’t be swayed. From the moment I met her we clicked. From jokes, to relationships, to marijuana we meshed. It was like I was meant to be there with her to survive this job because she sure as hell made coming to work a lot easier. She had my back at work and outside of it and I always spoke up for her whenever Ms. B made a slick comment about her (She would always say “I don’t know why you and Jessica have to always be talkin’ back” ‘because you always talkin’ hoe’ was my telepathic response).

When Devon would come in, it was a “hi” and “bye” situation. I had avoided that particular burger joint my senior yet to hopefully wipe of greasy memories from working there as a sophomore so to come back was a little embarrassing. There were a few people I knew that were still working there but they weren’t in school. The Locals is what us college kids called them. The Locals weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Most had kids and were in their late 20s or early 30s. Making my stomach drop and forcing me to think “What’s next? What happens when December ends?”

Devon was A Local, born and raised in Greensboro and had went to college for a year before withdrawing-he was an In-Betweener. He was three years my senior but didn’t work there when I did previously yet he was an amazing worker. Always on point, always clear and fast too. He was about 5’10 and had a very strong build, but you knew he also indulged in an extra slice of cake or two. Not chubby but solid. A man. Skin the perfect walnut color with a full low black beard, not that scraggly at all. Devon wore glasses, black frames and square and his work hat covered his completely shaved head. I’ve always liked guys that knew having a shaved head was much better than sporting a barely there hairline or premature balding. Completely shaving it all off told me that that particular man was realistic and in touch with what is. I like people like that, who don’t live in a fantasy and know how to accept things how they are.

Devon was attractive, plain & simple. But was he my type? The hell if I knew, I didn’t think I had a type. After a break up with my boyfriend of two and a half years I didn’t give a fuck about a “type”. Give me liberty or give me dick. But I had gotten tired of the random, late night fucks. It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but having someone that loves you after he orgasms is the thing I missed the most. I was tired of dealing with men in general and my focus was on graduating and paying my rent. Everything else in between that was a distraction. 

Anyway, Devon was a dweeb for sure. When he’d take orders sometimes he’d change his accent. Going from a terrible ‘English’ accent to an even worse ‘African’ accent. He mostly took orders in his normal voice but on occasion when he was extra bored he’d switch up to entertain himself. His Johnny Cash impression was pretty good though.

We had been working together for about two and a half months. By that time I stayed away from almost every side conversation that came my way if it wasn’t from Jessica. I just wanted to work these measly six hours and go the fuck home, nothing more, nothing less. I’d speak to Devon in passing. (“Can I get some ice please?” “He says his burger was supposed to have no ketchup, not no mustard” “Can I get a small fry please?” ) and he was always so helpful. I appreciated it immensely. When things were busy we’d bump into each other at the fry station-it was very tight over there no more than about three feet of space. Everyone was always squeezing, knocking and prodding into one another’s rib cage. Devon would fill up a carton of fries while simultaneously elbowing my tit as I waited to stand over the hot bulbs and get my carton of fries. Other days I couldn’t wait and I’d have to force myself to get there, if he was standing there I’d lightly touch his back to let him know he was about to get pushed out of the way. I couldn’t wait to go home and smoke.

When we had slow moments we’d chat. Or rather they’d talk while I eavesdropped and cleaned my area, because if you weren’t cleaning or stocking something Ms. B would ask you why. Now you standing there looking lazy and stupid. I learned in life that it’s best for you to do what you know needs to be done without someone telling you to. I was cleaning around front counter after the lunch crowd cleared out. The lunch rush is what you fear and also what you thank God for because it allowed three hours to go by and you were really working. No jokes, no kikis, straight up labor.

As I was cleaning up, Devon and the sandwich maker that day Ahmad were joking around like guys do and ended up on the subject of Spongebob Squarepants, which then leads Devon into a ballad of ‘Striped Sweater’.

‘What in the fuck...’ I think to myself. I had to turn away to keep from laughing in their faces. These grown niggas singing a song from a cartoon. Graduate me please. It wasn’t so silly that I was annoyed but it was silly because I hadn’t seen that type of carelessness and vulnerability before from a guy since my break up. A lot of men in college I surrounded myself with were professionals in training. Already thinking about what they were going to do next when I myself hadn’t even started to think about what’s happening right in front of me. But that also made them stiff to me-as if they cared too much about how the world was going to perceive them once they left the university world. I’m sure Devon was not attempting to portray himself as carefree, he was just singing a song from memory. He was just being himself, a funny and unapologetic square who loved Christian hip hop. But that’s when I finally noticed him. He was watching me think because when I turned his way he quickly looked around and pressed on his headset-oh he’s just taking an order. No words come out. Yeah, he was watching me.

The days went by and we would talk more and more. Little bids here and there. His quirkiness & sweetness made me feel good. I didn’t know it then but that’s how I felt. One day, during our shift while it was slow and we were talking he asks “Do you have a Facebook?”

“Yes.” I answered.

“Okay type your name in and then I’ll add you”

And so it began. So not only was I able to see Devon at work, but I’d come home, take a shower and see what post he’d tag me in, reactions to my statuses. I’d see comments on my pictures “You think you cute” “Lips!!” It was fun. Playing that little game. See I’m not stupid, men are men. He looks good, I look good, I mean come on. As fun as this was I knew we were going to get down to business-real business. Grown business. He was still living with his family on the other side of Greensboro and I had my own place. ‘Let me know when you’re ready for me because I am’ was the aura I was beginning to give off to him. I knew he wanted it but didn’t know what to say or how to initiate it properly. He was treading lightly and I appreciated it so I decided to take the reins and invite him over.

The first time he came over I wasn’t nervous. It was going to be my own research project as to why or why not he deserved to be inside me. We were just going to watch something on TV, snack, talk about work and then he’d leave and I’d make my decision from there. I had been off that day but had already showered a crowded library and the gym stench from my tired body. I very much wanted to reschedule his presentation but it would’ve been my third time rescheduling with him and I knew he wouldn’t have came over at all if I pushed it to another day-a guy has his limits. Plus I figured the visit would be short, no more than an hour then back to my blunt and Netflix. A modern romance.

A text then knock at the door alerted me of Devon’s presence. My roommates were gone so I had the apartment to myself for a while with no distractions so I could really make my decision. I opened the door and there he was, fresh off work in his all black uniform. The stench of grease and old meat filled my nostrils and apartment making my stomach turn. I smiled.

“Hey how are you?” I asked motioning for him to come in further.

“I’m good, just tired.” He said while coming in and standing over me. Devon was inches away and I could smell the nuggets he ate on his breath. I looked up at him and realized how much taller than me his when I don’t have my work shoes. I felt little, but safe. He give me a nice warm hug I lowkey didn’t want because now my Dove body wash was getting mixed with grease. As he pulled away he took off his book bag and work shoes and his height fell two inches-that’s better. I looked down as saw three holes in his socks but didn’t say anything, nor did he. He was tired and took the bus to faithfully to make it to work and home every day. ‘I’ll buy him some more’ I thought to myself.

I walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, “You want some juice?” I ask. I had bought some just for him because he loves sweet drinks. Sodas, juice, ICEE’s, whatever. As long as it had some type of simple syrup in it, that nigga was gonna drink it. No answer. I turned and looked back at him and caught him looking at me. Like it was the first time he’d really seen me. And technically it was, he’d never seen my outside of work or outside of a picture on whatever social media account. No, he was looking at me now. The at home Jada. The Jada that very rarely wears a bra or panties at home and who has much more under her work uniform then he guessed. Whose skin shines with moisturizer instead of sweat from work, the tattoos he didn’t know she had on that pretty brown skin. He was seeing me for the first time and I knew he liked what he saw. I liked that he liked it.

“Huh” he said.

If you can ‘huh’ you can hear. “Do you want some juice?” I asked again.

“Yea that’s cool”

I dipped my head into the fridge to cool my face and pretend to look around for the one juice that was sitting in front of me. The heat from my face was matching the heat downtown where my second brain (aka vagina) was located.

He sat on the couch and patiently waited as I poured his drink. Talking about some sports notification he got on his phone-like I gave a fuck. As I brought him his cup of juice he reached into his book bag and pulled out a bag of food from our job and traded me. I opened I sat next to him and I saw that it was filled with four chocolate chip cookies from our job. It costs ninety-nine cents to add to any meal and customers rarely took advantage of it. I picked up the slack for their obliviousness and stole cookies whenever the coast was clear. Devon would help and drop them in my bag when I’d be leaving for class. He knew they were my favorite.

I smiled again. Two smiles in less than five minutes? Yes it’s a wrap. “Thank you, I appreciate it” I told him.

“You’re welcome big heed”

I rolled my eyes, this nigga is so corny I love it. “How was work today?”

He sucked his teeth, “Man you know how it is, Ms. B yelling, hungry construction workers, annoying college kids like you.” He smirked at the end and looked at me out of the side of his eye.

“What the hell ever.” I softly nudged him.

The TV was turned to Family Feud and he seemed interested but I was not. Steve Harvey and his constant disbelief at outlandish answers was getting old but I put up with it for the sake of nostalgia.

We chatted, watched TV and showed each other things on our phone. Devon gulped down his juice and set it on my mama’s wooden coffee table. “Your place is nice”, he observed, “You don’t stay by yourself do you?”.

“No”, I answered “I have two roommates but one is moving out in a couple weeks.”

“Are they here now?”

“No”

Silence. Thinking. Thinking about us here alone together. Wondering.Things could happen, they should. Back to reality.

“Do you wanna watch anything else?” I asked him and handed him the roommate.

He took it from me and put it back on the coffee table. “Nah I don’t mind watching this”, he says and he wrapped his arm around me.

Ahh shit. I hadn’t been this close to a male body fully clothed in a minute. Although he smelled like an air fryer he felt so soft and firm. I relaxed but still squirmed under his arm. Not out of being uncomfortable but to give some sort of relief to my pulsating lower brain. This moment had been brewing since we started talking outside of work. The slick comments, innuendos and fake eye rolls had all lead up to this. As soon as Devon pulled me to him, the faucet turned on. Baby she was ready, begging, yearning almost. She needed it. Now.

“You good?” He asked and looked at me. We were so fucking close I could smell the last of the sweet juice on his breath. His pouty full lips were inches away. So no my nigga, I am not good and I would like your lips on both sets of mine, please and thanks.

“Yea, I’m fine” I croaked out. Perfect now I sound like a twelve year-old.

“Mhm okay.” He said still looking at me. Or in me rather because he was looking deep into my eyes. As if my eyes were going to give him the answer to a question he just thought of asking. With his left arm around me he held my face with his right and kissed me deep but gentle (that’s how all of our encounters would be...). Firm enough to let me know he was a grown man but also soft enough to let me know he knew how to take his time. It was like kissing a plump cloud, very soft and I needed more. The kiss went from sweetness to straight up lust in a flash. I pushed myself up to give more mouth and he pressed right back into it. Opening his mouth slightly I went in for the kill and slipped my tongue into his mouth. Tracing it and he held on to my face. He tasted so sweet. The kiss continued and an electric shock went down to the middle of my green sweatpants. I moaned in his mouth. He moaned back. The front door swung open.

It was my roommate that was moving and her boyfriend. And here I was in her couch pre-best orgasm of my life sucking face. Welcome home. Me and Devon quickly separated out of embarrassment and also gratefulness. Had they come five minutes later we would have been much more than roommates, definitely family.

“Hey how are y’all doing?” I asked sweetly. I know we looked nuts, my shirt was twisted, we’re breathing heavy, it smells like fries in here. She’s gonna call the fucking cops on me. We had only been leaving together for a few weeks. We barely spoke or saw each other because she was in nursing school. Gone early in the morning, coming in in the evening and going straight to bed. She didn’t even use the kitchen. A quiet girl who never interfered, I hope she’s doing well. Devon and I scooted away from each other slightly to look more comfortable and less like humping rabbits.

“Good, you?” She said with some surprise in her voice and eyes. Her boyfriend glanced quickly then looked straight ahead making a beeline for Jordan’s room. I didn’t answer and watched as she shuffled behind him. Good, hurry up and get the fuck in your room. I wanted to turn the desire up a few more notches in here. It was early September and in Greensboro the breeze begins to get crisper in the evenings. The cold air they brought in when they opened the door turned the heat down that we had generated.

Bruce Banner was back.

As the door closed to Jordan’s room I looked at him and smiled. He kissed me again and held my face. “You’re so pretty with those dimples.”

I cheesed harder. Marry me.

Devon released my face and checked his phone. “I gotta go lil mama.”

My heart broke. Not really but the one in my vagina sure did. If the sex was like the kiss it was definitely going to give me what I needed, and wanted. 

‘Just ask him if he wanna fuck you from behind in the doorway real quick’, my Lower Brain whispered.

‘Calm the fuck do-well that’s not a bad idea, I don’t think my other roommate is going to be home for a -no. Stop, just relax.’ my Actual Brain decided.

“Oh, well alright. Can you come by again tomorrow?” I asked him hopefully. He stood up and walked to put his shoes back on and I followed. As I walked it felt like a puddle of lust was in between my legs. Send help.  

Devon turned and looked down at me, pulling me close to him by my waist. I could feel the hardness in his pants slowly depleting.

Lower Brain, “Girl that’s just how he gon look when y’all fuck’

RB: Bitch, I know I can’t wait, shut up!’

He kissed me deep again, but quick, so he wouldn’t get us both started again. “I can’t do tomorrow, but Tuesday after I get off at five I can come by.”

LB: Tuesday is a day and a half away, you sure you’ll be okay?

“That’s perfect”, I said looking up at him. “I’m out of class out 4:45.”

And it really was perfect. I’m always out of class around 4:45, he’s off at 5pm but when you work in fast food, you’re never really going to get off at your scheduled time. At five is when you begin to have an attitude because your replacement is taking their time getting to your position to relieve you or they haven’t shown up at all yet-oh and people are still ordering because they have no idea there’s a shift change taking place through the intercom. Then the complaining to whatever manager on duty starts which is when they realize they have to let you go. After stocking up your replacement, stuffing burgers, cookies or even a salad into the bag you brought with you to work and getting your complimentary drink it was finally time to clock out. See by that time it’d be around 5:45pm, Devon would let me know he was on the way or outside and I’d already be showered, shaved and ready to finish what we started. 

“Perfect.” I love the fast food industry. 

[springwritess]

Temporary Alliance | Roronoa Zoro

anime: one piece

word count: really long lmao. it’s more like a mini fanfic than an actual oneshot

notes: i came up with this idea while trying to sleep. it’s a zombie apocalypse x one piece crossover.

tags: angst with happy ending, zoro fluff, recruitment, swearing, sarcastic, both of you try to gain the higher ground during conversations, some blood

There were a horde of zombies coming closer and closer to you. Groans and moans came from their open mouths, wanting human meat.

Fuck.

You ran as fast as you could. You could feel your temples pulsing and your lungs burn as you ran through the forest. Branches constantly attacked you, scratching your ankles. The leaves crunches underneath your feet and big brown logs seemed to appear out of nowhere as if they tried to stop you.

You were camping in the forest after being driven out of your home. You took what you could find and left the city as fast as possible. You needed to get away from people as much as possible. Staying alive was horrible, but you fortunately you found some edible plants. You couldn’t stay there forever. You needed to get off the island. You were planning your next moves, and then the zombies attacked.

You continued to run with your heart in your mouth. Then you stopped. It was a dead end. A mountain of rock blocked your escape route. The wall seemed endless. There was nowhere to go. You collapsed to the ground as they started to surround you.

Is this how I’m going to die?

Then a miracle happened.

A man swooped in and instantly cut all the zombies. They all fell to the ground, like lifeless dolls. He sheathed his swords. You stared at him. He had bright green hair like moss and a scar over his right eye. He stared at you with eyes as cold as the ocean.

“Oi.” He thundered. The man’s voice was extremely deep and threatening.

You jumped back out of surprise, hitting the back of your head on the mountain of rock. Ripples of pain vibrated throughout your head. You rubbed to try and soothe the pain. You got up and grabbed your bag, which contained a first aid kit, a pack of matches, a map, a reusable water bottle and a bit of food.

“Where are we?” He asked. His tone softened at bit.

“We’re in a forest a few hours from the closets city. Are you heading somewhere?” You asked.

He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m trying to find my ship and crewmates. We were separated by a storm. The ship is near the ocean coast of this place. I just don’t know where.”

You frowned. A crew huh...he’s probably a pirate. Anger churned deep within you. You despised pirates after everything you’ve been through on this island. An idea popped into your mind. You could probably use him for a bit. He didn’t seem to be the brightest either, so it’ll be easy to trick him.

“The nearest ocean coast is extremely far from here. It’s about a week on foot. You’ve been walking in the opposite direction actually.”

He groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me? Alright I’ll just go back to where I started.”

The man was about to turn around and leave, but you called out to him.

“Wait! Before you go...how about I show you the way? You’re new to this island aren’t you? I’ll just lead you to your crew. I can also cook meals, tend to your wounds and keep watch at night.” You said.

He narrowed his eyes and stared at you. You stood there patiently, waiting for him to take the bait. There’s no way he wouldn’t.

“This is all for free?”

“If you’re willing to protect me, then I’ll do my part.”

He was silent for a moment, but finally seemed to agree. “Fine then. Show me the way girl.”

“It’s (f/n).” You have gave no last name, because you weren’t planning on getting close with him.

“It’s Zoro.”

Knowing the man’s name, your little adventure began.

***

You created a route so you could get back to the coast. There were many zombie-infested cities. You’d stay away from those cities, but that’ll increase the walking time. You guys were going to leave the forest tonight because it was no longer safe. You grabbed some sticks and shrubs for a fire and a few of those edible plants the two of you could eat. The plan was now set in motion.

Again...that’s easier said than done.

You rubbed your temples at the swordsman’s stupidity. “You’re going the wrong way idiot! How do you not know your right from your left!”

“Eh? No this is right!” He shouted and continued to walk left.

You grabbed his hand and started to drag him like you were his parent. “How are you still alive?” You grumbled to yourself.

“Oi what are you doing?” He asked, ripping his hand out of your grasp.

You glared at him. “Just listen to me damn it! You’re making this harder for the both of us.”

He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. “You’re a troublesome women.”

“You’re a troublesome swordsman.” You retorted.

***

Zoro and you finally left the forest. You guys were in an open field, heading for the city. The sun already dipped into the horizon and the sky was turning dark.

“We’re in the open. Zombies could attack any time. It’s going to be a long and cold night.” You explained.

You turned around to find the swordsman already laying down to sleep. “I missed my afternoon nap.”

You sighed and sat down next to him. “You really are a kid huh...you need afternoon naps.”

Zoro gave a grunt in response and turned to the other side. He didn’t feel like picking a fight with you again. You guys were arguing all day.

You grabbed the sticks and shrubs from your bag. You used a match to light the fire and sat down next to him.

“We’re going at a slow pace. If this keeps up it’ll take about forever.”

Zoro didn’t answer. You looked over to see that his eyes were already closed. His chest was slowly rising and falling. He was fell asleep already.

You poured some water over the fire and it came out. You let out a sigh. That was a lot of water that went to waste. There was no fresh water source in sight either. Hopefully, you’d guys would make it to the city by tomorrow night to restock on supplies.

You looked up to the sky. It clear black canvas. No stars were to be seen that night. The darkness was so thick that if it wasn’t for Zoro’s soft snores, you wouldn’t know he was there. Hopefully no zombies would be there either.

You felt goosebumps raise on your arms as a cold breeeze passed through your body. You shifted closer to Zoro for some warmth. He didn’t seem to take notice. His body was radiating with warm energy. It was comfortable.

You let out a stifled yawn and sat there bleary-eyed. You wanted to sleep but couldn’t, not yet at least.

Thankfully there were no zombie attacks that night.

***

You guys headed towards the next city the next morning after breakfast. It was just raw plants. It didn’t seem to fill you up however. Zoro probably felt the same way too. He didn’t say anything though.

You frowned as you looked at your tin of water. It was running low. You used a lot of water to put out the fire last night and to wash the plants this morning.

“We’re running low on water.” You told him.

He shrugged. “We’ll figure something out.”

“The next city is about a day on foot though. We’ll have to make it there tonight. I want to take a shower and grab some fresh clothes too.”

You didn’t have the luxury of the small river you used to bathe and wash your clothes in. Your hair was tangled and in a messy ponytail. Your jeans and shirt were caked with dry mud.

He sighed and started to walk. “Alright then women. Let’s go.”

“It’s (f/n), you shitty swordsman. You’re also walking in the wrong direction. We’re going forwards, not backwards.”

He stopped walking. “Eh? I’m going the right way.”

After a whole day of walking, you guys were just outside the city. Unlike the previous day, there were multiple attacks. Dozens of zombies surrounded you. These ones were slightly smarter than the others you’ve seen. They had weapons - mostly guns and swords.

If it weren’t for the swordsman, you would’ve died. Zoro protected you while you cooked and did the navigating. You had your job, and you had yours. The trip was filled with silence this time. He wasn’t really the social type.

You looked over and noticed a wound. Zoro’s arm was dripping with dark congealing blood. He didn’t seem to care.

“You’re hurt.” You said.

He glanced over to his arm and shrugged. “It’s nothing. A bullet grazed me.”

You stopped walking. You grabbed some bandages from the first aid kit. “Let me get that.”

“I said I’m fine.” He grunted.

“Come on. You’re hurt. It’s my job to help you out. You got hurt protecting me, so let me return the favour.”

He sighed and held out his arm. You wrapped the bandages around his arm and tied them into a knot.

“This should stop the bleeding for now. Let’s get going.”

You both stopped walking as your eyes drank in the awful sight. The colour drained from your face. The inside of the city looked like a battlefield. There were endless piles of dismembered buildings. Roofs were torn off and cars were abandoned. Bodies were littered everything like garbage. The ground was stained with blood, and turned into a deep red. The pungent smell made you almost throw up. You felt your heart sink. This was your hometown. You grew up here, but it was now reduced to rubble.

Zoro wrinkled his nose. “It smells disgusting here. What the hell happened here? Did the zombies really do all of this? They don’t seem that smart. The ones here are even weaker than the ones on Thriller Bark.”

“It wasn’t a zombie.”

“What was it?”

“A pirate.”

“What do pirates have to do with all of this?”

“A group of pirates brought this virus to the island. Their crewmate was dumped here. He was rushed to the hospital.” You explained. “He survived, but the virus seemed to induce range and the need for human meat. He bit the nurse that was treating him and she started to act the same. I’m not sure, but I think the virus probably travels through saliva.”

“They’re still human? They certainly don’t look human anymore.”

You ignored his last comment. “Let’s go. I want to go somewhere.”

Weaving through the rubble, you went to your old home. It barely resembled the home you retreated to after a long day. The roof was reduced to rubble. The walls were still intact however. The door was ripped off its hinges and nowhere to be seen.

Sadness clouded your features. “This is where I used to live.”

The swordsman said nothing. You walked in, with him following you. You tried turning on the light, but there was no electricity. You turned on the faucet in the kitchen. The water seemed to be working. Couches and chairs were flipped over. Cupboards were open but no items were to be seen. You opened the fridge. It was empty. The house was most likely ransacked by burglars.

“There’s nothing in here.” Zoro stated.

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks Captain Obvious. I’m not fucking blind you know.”

He glared at you, but you didn’t notice. You scanned the entire home, but all three of them were gone. Your mother, father and brother were nowhere to be seen.

You clenched your fists and gritted your teeth.“If it wasn’t because a pirate...my mother would be alive.” You whispered, your voice shaking with anger. “My brother and father would be alive too. My whole city would be intact! I hate pirates. I hate all of them.” Your voice grew louder and shaked with wrath.

The swordsman said nothing.

“I hate pirates. I hate all of them!” Your voice was loud, but steady.

“Why are you helping me then? I’m a pirate. Did you think I was a tourist?” He asked. Zoro didn’t seem affected at all from your outburst.

You clenched your shirt. “I want to leave this island as soon as possible. I know I’m weak, but if I stay close to you I’ll be able to leave.” Your voice grew quiet.

“Where do you plan on going to? Do you have a ship?”

“No...I’ll find one. I can stowaway on one if worse comes to worse.”

“What about your family? Where are they?”

There was a long and dreadful silence. You finally answered.

“Dead.”

The swordsman didn’t say anything after that. Instead, he sat down and let out a stifled yawn. “I’ll keep watch. You should sleep. You haven’t slept last night and we walked all day.”

You looked at him in disbelief. “I just told you I hated you. Now you’re telling me to go to sleep? Do you plan on leaving me? Surely you know that’s suicide.”

He gritted his teeth. “You’re not the first person whose told me they hated pirates. I have a crewmate who told me that. Go to sleep idiot.”

You shook your head and started to shake even more. “No.” You tried your best to make your voice firm, but it was shaky.

“Why not?”

Your eyes shifted to the side. They became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. You blinked, and they slid down your cheeks silently. “I...can’t.”

Zoro’s face turned crimson red. “Oi are you crying? Stop crying idiot! Shit...why?“

Your lower lip quivered as words slowly made their way out of your mouth. “Because...” You began, “of nghtmares.”

There was another silence. “Is it about your family?”

You didn’t answer. You felt a knot form in your stomach as the memories of that night started to resurface.

You watched as the zombie ripped out your mother’s throat. She fell to the ground like a dummy, lifeless. A hord started to gather around you, your older brother and your father. Your father cursed.

“Run (f/n).” Your father said.

You blinked in disbelief. “I can’t leave you guys-“

Your brother cut you off. “I said run!” His voice boomed like thunder.

With that you took off, running as fast as you could with tears in your eyes.

“Oi (f/n).” This was the first time he said your name. There was a lick of concern in his voice, barely noticeable.

You quickly wipes your tears. “Did you see your family’s dead bodies?

You shook your head. “Only my mum. I don’t know about my dad or brother.”

“Then you can’t be sure they’re dead. They could still be alive somewhere. You just have to find them.”

“I guess.” You wipes your tears away. “I’m going to go take a shower. Maybe I’ll find some fresh clothing.”

Zoro noticed a den den mushi on the table. The burglars seemed to leave that. “Can I call someone? I want to see if my crew is fine.”

You nodded. “Yeah whatever.”

You walked into the washroom and stripped down. You stepped into the tub and turned the faucet to high. You let the water beat over your head in steamy rivulets. You closed your eyes as the water and heat soaked into your skin. It took your mind off everything for awhile.

You looked through the cupboards in the washroom. Much to your surprise, they were mostly full. There were shampoo and conditioner bottles. You used them to wash your hair. You grabbed a bar of soap to scrub the dirt and grime off your skin.

Once you were finished, you turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower. You found a towel to dry yourself off with. You went to grab clothes, only to realize you didn’t take any with yourself to the bathroom.

Zoro was standing right outside too.

Shit.

You sighed and put on your dirty clothes. You slipped out of the bathroom and went to your room. Zoro didn’t seem to notice. You frowned when you opened your closet. Most of your clothes were gone. You managed to find a sweater, a t shirt and some sweatpants. Thankfully, you were also able to grab a bra, some fresh underwear and socks too.

You went to your parents room to see if their clothes were still there. Your parent’s clothes were still there. You grabbed some of your mom’s stuff as extra clothing for yourself, along with one of her backpacks. It was much bigger than the one you stole while leaving the city. You also decided to grab Zoro some fresh clothing too. He was about the same height as your father, so it should fit.

You went to the main room where Zoro was sitting. He was currently on the phone with someone.

“Oi marimo you better not be doing anything to that women! I’ll kill you!” A voice on the other end screamed. It sounded like a male.

“Give me the phone you idiot!” Another women snapped. There was a loud thump on the other end. The man went quiet.

“Alright Zoro. We’ll meet up in a few days. I’m glad that you’re alright.”

Kacha. The snail went to sleep, and with that the phone call ended.

You tossed Zoro his clothes. “Your friends seem...eccentric.”

“That shitty cook is not my friend.” He growled. Zoro picked up the clothes you gave up. “What are these for?”

“Fresh clothes to change into. You can go take a shower. Don’t get lost on the way in!”

“Hmph.” Without any objections, he got up and left to take a shower.

You laid down on the floor, using your backpack as a pillow. You looked up to the sky. Unlike the night before, the sky was painted with stars. It was a beautiful sight. Exhaustion overtook you, and soon you were fast asleep.

It was the first time in awhile you were able to sleep peacefully.

***

Your eyes fluttered open. You felt the rays of the sun but your face. You sat up and stretched. You let out a yawn. Your gaze shifted to the swordsman who was sitting with his arms and legs crossed. Zoro had a solemn expression. He was also wearing the clothes you gave him last night.

“It’s already morning?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

“We reached here late last night. Let’s get going.” He got up.

“Wait!” You called out. “We need food first. We don’t know the next time we’ll end up finding food and a fresh water source. There should be empty houses around here with food. We could also find a shop.”

Zoro sighed. “Alright let’s go.”

You grabbed Zoro’s hand as you left the house. His hand was surprisingly warm. They were rough too, dotted with callouses.

“Oi what are you doing?” He sputtered out as he turned crimson.

You rolled your eyes, but you could feel your own cheeks heat up. “I did this before. Why are you complaining again?”

“Stupid women! This is embarrassing...”

“Shut up and follow me. You want to get to your friends right? My name is (f/n) by the way, mosshead.”

***

You guys made it into an abandoned shop not far from your old home. The store was wedged between two taller buildings, both in shambles. You felt a sharp pang in your chest. You went there often, to grab snacks or do the groceries for your parents. You let go of Zoro’s hand.

“Alright we’re here. Let’s grab some non-perishable foods. That means anything packaged or canned. I also need a pot and some bowls and utensils too.”

“I’m going to go grab some sake and water.” He said.

“We need food not alcohol.” You grumbled. “Don’t leave the store if you get lost. Shout for me once you’re finished. Don’t trust yourself.”

“I’m not going lost.” He walked off.

You let out a sigh. You grabbed a cart and walked over to the non-perishable food aisle. It consisted of canned and boxed food. You grabbed some boxes, mostly crackers and canned soups. You grabbed pasta and some tomato sauce. You wanted to spice things up a little for your little journey.

“I should grab some water too. I also should check if I could find pots, bowls and utensils.” You said to yourself.

You walked out of the aisle. Your pupils dilated as you stared at what appeared in front of you. It was a zombie. Aside from the missing patches of flesh and the torn clothing, the drying blood and white and red eyes, it looked normal. It’s eyes snapped to you, and made a low growling moan. It spotted you.

It lurched forward, with the intent to kill you. You turned around, leaving the cart and ran. It followed quickly after you. This zombie was much faster than the other ones.

“Oi Zoro! There’s a zombie! Help me!” You screamed out.

“There’s a zombie? Wait there. I’ll come to you.” He called back to you.

Loud footsteps trail behind your fleeing form. You swore. It was going to kill you before Zoro could get to you - that’s if he could anyway. You had to fight.

You ran into another aisle and started to scan the items on the shelves, to see if there was you could use to fight with. You found a broomstick and window-cleaner spray. You quickly grabbed it and continued to run.

You waited for the zombie to be right behind you. Then you spin around, with the spray bottle in your hand. You squirted some right into it���s eyes. It staggered back. The zombie let out a blood curling scream and flailed its head around. Now! You grabbed the broomstick and whacked it on the head, hard.

Your attack didn’t seem to work, and it recovered shortly after from it. You try a second time, aiming for its gut instead. The zombie dodges. It grabs your wrist and twists it to the side. Grunting, you throw your leg out, but it dodges that too. You howl at the force crushing your wrist.

The zombie opened its mouth, saliva dripping from it. It’s teeth were filed to points. It’s breath smelt like rotting human flesh, which made you gag. It leaned in and was about to bite your arm off.

“Rengoku Onigiri.”

The zombie was cut into two perfect halves, along with everything else in its radius. Shelves were knocked over and in pieces. Your cart too, was crushed under the shelves. You collapsed to the ground. You stare at the mess, with your mouth agape. You balled your hands into fists. It took one hit for the zombie to be dead. You struggled massively with it, trying various ways to take it down.

Zoro sheathed his swords. “Are you alright?” He extended a hand, but you ignored it.

You let out a sigh. “I’m weak.”

Zoro sat down next to you. “That’s fine. You have your job and I have my job. We’re all good at something.”

“I’m too weak.” You twisted the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re not going to be here forever. If I’m going to stowaway on a boat. I’m going to need to be strong if the people find me. My family sacrificed their lives for me. I need to survive.”

He threaded a hand through his hair. “You don’t seem weak to me. You did plenty enough damage to the zombie. You managed to blind it.”

You snorted. “That didn’t do shit. It almost broke my wrist.”

“Well...what are you good at?”

“Hmm...I’m not sure. I can do a lot of things, but I’m not particularly good at anything. I’m resourceful I guess. I can sneak around and gather information too. That’s about it.”

There was a long silence. You looked up at Zoro. He was lost in thought. “...You can be our scout. I’ll have to talk to Luffy though to see if you could join.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Scout?”

“You can join our crew. I’m sure Usopp can make a weapon that suits you.”

Your eyes widened. “You...want me to join your crew?”

He shrugged. “You have nowhere else to go. It seems like a pretty good offer to me. I could just leave you here on this zombie-invested island.”

“...That’s actually not a bad idea.” You finally said.

He flashed you his trademark grin, filled with both confidence and cockiness. “It’s your choice. Will you take it?”

***

a/n: i made the the ending is ambiguous. i enjoyed writing this so im probably going to write some more zoro fluff in the future.

[flipping-voltron-imagines]

“I will find you”

Shiro x reader

A/N: Woah, who’s this chick? That’s right, after many weeks, I’m releasing something I’ve been working on for about a month now. I hope y'all like it, and hopefully there are more things like this in the near future. Also, VOLTRON SEASON 8 IS GOING TO DROP TOMORROW! WOAHHH

Word Count: 3756

Gender neutral 

Warnings: death of close friends, mentions of blood 

“We’re stuck in the gravitational pull,” Captain Murdoch summarized, turning around to look up from his computer screen at Regis and I. Tears waited to fall at the brim of his eyes. “I don’t know what will happen or what’s on the other side of it, but we have a decision to make.” 

When I left on a mission two years ago, I didn’t think I would end up dying. We were supposed to be collecting data on a planet that could be used as a human colony. The play was this: two years to journey there, one to collect data on planet, and two for the return trip. When I got back, I’d planned on marrying my boyfriend, Shiro, who would be coming back from a mission of his own at around the same time. We hadn’t even made it to the planet before we got stuck. 

Next to me, Arianna Regis huffed. She was our mechanic and several years older than Murdoch and I, and always seemed to be grumpy. Luckily Murdoch and I were cheery enough to combat her negativity. “What other options do we have? We’re going to die. No use trying to delay the inevitable.” She crossed her arms and stared Murdoch down. 

The captain shook his head and gestured to the computer screen behind him. It had a different flight plan and stats than we were used to seeing all the time. “Not necessarily. We could try and use the amount of fuel it would have taken to get to Ardexian-” the planet we were were checking out, “-and try to pull out and head back home, as well as expel extra supplies, making it easier to escape.” Turned and touched the screen with his fingernail to trace the updated flight pattern. “Or we could allow ourselves to be sucked in and possibly die.” 

“So we can either die having done nothing, or die trying,” Regis commented. “Gee.” 

“No. It’s more like... we can either most likely die putting up a fight, die not trying, or live after fighting.” Two of those options sounded terrible and one sounded slightly better that then others. I looked outside. The glowing blue blob in space, while it would have made an excellent and beautiful aesthetic wallpaper for my phone, terrified me. It would probably be the cause of our demise, but I wanted a chance at escaping it. I wanted a chance at marrying my boyfriend, the love of my life. 

“This is ridiculous,” muttered Regis. “We’re going to die, there is no question about it. I say we just speed up the process and crash into this... thing...” She messed with the hem of her shirt and glared out the window. 

Murdoch gave her a steely look. “No, we aren’t going to do that,” he sighed, then inhaled deeply. “I’m suggesting we try and escape. Now whether or not we actually do that is up to you two.” 

“You know where I stand,” Regis announced. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. “I’m going to sleep. Let me know what we’re doing.” Then she stalked off to the back of the ship where our individual tiny quarters were, taking the negative air with her. 

Murdoch and I simultaneously released a relieved breath. I stood straighter and moved closer to one of the windows. I leaned my head against the thick glass. The decision seemed simple to me. If I were to die, I’d want to die knowing I’d done my best to escape. Getting out was a possible bonus, like attempting the extra credit on a math test, where you know you’re probably not going to get it right but just in case you do, it’ll help you and save your grade. 

The captain relaxed in his chair, slumping forward. “What do you want to do?” He was so casual in his approach that it almost felt like he was trying too hard. 

“We try and get out. If it doesn’t work... maybe there’s something on the other side.” 

And something on the other side there was. They’d tried to escape the gravitational pull but couldn’t, and for days they floated through space, aware of their impending doom. They entered the glowing blue thing without even realizing it was happening. Suddenly out monitors turned all fuzzy and all of our machinery made weird noises. Just about everything shut down. It took Regis almost a week to get everything up and running properly again, but we couldn’t figure out what our location was. The blue light gone, and with nothing else do to, we put our sensors on the highest setting and continued on in hopes of finding some sort of planet we could survive on. 

We drifted for about a year. One tense year. Regis was constantly in a mood worse than before, having lost hope in ever seeing her family again. The captain, though he tried not to show it, was losing hope as well. He had to keep up a brave face. Every waking moment was spent in front of his computer, staring, watching for any sign of a planet that we could inhabit. As for me, I tried to stay upbeat. My job, as a communications officer, was to stay in contact with the garrison and be on the lookout for aliens and try to be on good terms with them. Since passing through that weird blue thing, which wed established as some sort of portal, my lines had been dead and I couldn’t make contact with the garrison at all. So basically I had nothing to do all day for a solid year. It took all I had not to go crazy, so I ended up creating random tasks for myself, such as creating an entirely new language. I taught it to Regis and Murdoch, and we sometimes used it to communicate.

Then we stumbled upon a giant ship. We received no replies to my messages, and it wasn’t moving. Common sense told us that there was something bad in there and if we went in, searching for supplies, we were dead; common sense also told us that if we didn’t take this chance, we could be dead anyways. Who knew we would become scavengers? 

Despite all the dead bodies around, we kind of liked being on this ship. There was a lot of food, oxygen, and softer beds. After a little debating, we decided that we would stash our ship in one of the holding bays and keep it ready, just in case we had to escape suddenly. In order to make the ship seem undisturbed, we only lived in a few of the rooms tucked away in the corner by the kitchen. Whatever alien species lived there kept a very orderly ship. I took it upon myself to learn the language so that I could translate should the need arise, and also so that I could help maneuver around the ship. 

We stayed there for months. During that time we met Sven-who I thought was Shiro, for a short time-and Slav. Regis didn’t like either of them very much, but Murdoch and I were both grateful to have someone new to talk to, someone less depressing than Regis. Slav was crazy but insanely smart. Murdoch really liked him. After I determined the difference between Shiro and Sven we became great friends. Our friendship reminded me of my own pre-relationship friendship with Shiro, but I still had hope we would get back to Earth; there was no way I was going to pursue a relationship with him. I wanted to marry Shiro, not his lookalike. 

A day of action came when I was tired. I’d slept terribly the night before, kept awake by dreams of my wedding day, one of which included Sven. 

My bedroom door opened and Murdoch poked his head into my room to see if I was awake, which I was, and had been for hours, so I just looked at him out of the corner of my eyes. “Y/N, you need to come check this out,” he said. “The scanners started going crazy, but we don’t know what they’re saying.” Even though I doubted I would be able to translate for them, as I was only able to recognize a few words, I got up. My pajamas were rumpled and I was completely unaware that I would soon be seeing the faces of people I hadn’t seen in a very long time. 

“I think we should get back into hiding,” I muttered as I brushed past him. “It’s probably someone coming to see what’s going on. We need to get out of the way so they don’t find us.” I made my way to what I called “the command center” but it was really just a couple of computers I’d moved early on. 

“No. Not until we find out who’s here.” He caught up to me easily. “If they’re just pirates, we can scare them away. We’ve done it before.” 

Soon we heard voices. They spoke English and sounded younger. Regis stalked them quietly for a while, and finally we determined them to be trustworthy. Somehow people from Earth had stumbled upon this same ship, and we wanted to stay with them. 

“Maybe they can help us get home,” Regis reasoned when she reported to us. Suddenly given a spark of hope, she was willing to do anything to help us get out of here. 

I was super ready to get out of this alien ship. It smelled weird, and... I thought the skeletons might have been watching me... their creepy heads inside their helmets sometimes seemed to turn when I walked by. 

The next thing I knew, Regis’ screams echoed through the hall. She’d gone back out to continue following the group, who weren’t human but didn’t seem all that dangerous. Murdoch and I froze. My body turned cold, and suddenly Murdoch was shoving me inside a hollowed out computer system. He told me to be quiet. I thought he was finding a place to hide too, but then I heard him get shot and a loud metallic thud. 

I shrunk pack further into my hiding spot and covered my mouth with my hands. I wanted to scream and cry. Captain Murdoch was dead, and so was Arianna Regis, and I had nowhere to bury them. 

The intruders ransacked the place, destroying all of my equipment. The steady beeping that once filled the room because of my scanners stopped. I was left alone. 

I stayed in my hiding place for a long time. I slept four times before I finally worked up the courage to leave. My body was incredibly stiff. As I emerged and stretched, I kept my eyes on the ceiling. Murdoch’s body was probably on the floor, and judging from the lack of that distinct smell of iron, there was no blood, so I forced myself to look. Two years spent with this man, supporting him and being supported by him, having really deep conversations with him, and growing to genuinely love him as a friend... I felt robbed of an experience and a friendship I could have had for the rest of my life. There were scorch marks on the cloth over his heart. He didn’t suffer, which was a relief. 

For five minutes I sat by the door just listening and staring at Murdoch’s body. Those... pirates had robbed me of more than just my equipment. They’d stolen my best friends. If I ever found them, I would kill them. 

For days I stumbled around, gathering supplies. I’d never leave my control room if I didn’t need to. The only time I left was to shove Murdoch and Regis’ bodies out of an airlock and send them into space. If they couldn’t be buried, I knew that that was how they would have wanted to be dealt with. They both had a love for the stars. 

Slav and Sven came back again, this time bringing company. When they found me, they had been running and I could tell they were in danger. They needed a place to hide for a few minutes and I could give them that. 

When I realized who one of the people in the large group was, I burst into tears. “Keith!” I cried, and latched onto him. 

“Y/N?” He wrapped his arms stiffly around my shoulders and pat my back. “What are you doing here?” 

I pulled way from him and sniffled. “I uh... my team... we got trapped in this gravitational pull and ended up here, wherever here is.” 

“It’s an alternate universe,” said one of his friends, dressed in white and green armor. I noticed then that all of Keith’d friends had matching armor. I recognized her as Matt’s sister. He’d shown me a picture of he and his sister together while telling me a story about her. I think her name was Katie, but Matt always referred to her as “Pidge.” 

“Wow, really?” I put my hand on top of my head. 

“Where’s the rest of your team?” 

My silence seemed enough of an answer for Keith. He quickly went around, introducing his friends and explaining what he was doing out in space. “We’re the Paladins of Voltron,” he finished, “and if you want, you can come with us.” 

I agreed, and after some adventuring and an adrenaline rush, I was safe in this weird castle. Allura, whom I became close friends with, helped teach me the language I’d been trying to teach myself. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge were all teens that I had met at one point or another. I remember them always being together on campus, and they reminded me of my own team. Seeing them together warmed my heart and made me incredibly sad at the same time. 

When walking back to our rooms one night with the rest of the paladins, I noticed that there was a door between my room and the last one, Lance. “Whose room is this?” 

Lance looked at me with wide eyes. His eyes flickered back and forth rapidly between me and the door in question. “It’s uh... it’s Shiro’s.” 

“Shiro,” I repeated shortly, my lips turing down. “As in Takashi Shirogane, my Fiancé.” I rolled my eyes and put my hands on my hips. “Why wasn't I told about him? Where is he?” 

“He’s been missing.” 

Missing? 

No no, that can’t be. After everything I’d been through, with my teammates dying and being lost in space for who knows how long, I thought that if I were to be rescued I would have some peace, but peace would not find me just yet. It wasn’t my time. As soon as I find Shiro, I’m dragging him back home and neither of us are leaving Earth ever again. 

“Y/N, I’m trying my best to find him,” Keith told me softly, “and I could use all the help I can get.” 

Of course I’d help him. Shiro was my person and there was no way I would just let him go. I told Keith as such and he led me to a room where I could stay. He told me to sleep and that I could begin to help him once I was well rested. 

Finding Shiro was more difficult than I thought. Before I left on my mission, I thought I understood just how big space is. Soon after my mind was blown when I realized that there was truly nothing out there for more than I could possibly imagine, and again I thought I understood just how big space is. Finding Shiro proved me wrong. I went out with Keith in his black lion all the time, constantly checking various places and taking over different alien-sorry, Galran-ships in hopes of finding him blew my mind once again. I soon came to the conclusion I would never understand just how big the universe is. “Never get too comfortable with how much you know,” I told myself almost every day, “because when you do you stop learning.” 

I was hardly comfortable when searching for knowledge on Shiro’s whereabouts. He had to be somewhere. My heart always felt a strange tug, like I knew he was alive somewhere, and I think Keith felt something similar. Our constant, subtle tugging is what kept us going. Even though the others didn’t say anything, I knew they were giving up. They didn’t feel the tug like we did. 

Confident we’d find Shiro in time, I urged Keith to relax a little. “He’s not going to be found any sooner if you run yourself ragged. If anything, you’re only preventing yourself from finding him.”

Bitter that I was “less serious about finding Shiro” than he was, he muttered, “At least I’m looking,” but in a much longer, less friendly statement. 

“Listen bud, you’ve got two choices,” I told him soon after that interaction. He was sitting at the kitchen, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with me while he ate breakfast. “You can either accept the little bit that I’m doing to help, or you can push me away like you have everyone else in this castle. I’ve known you since you were a kid. I really want to help, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me.” 

Keith’s eyes then flickered and met mine. After offering him a small smile, he nodded and muttered an apology. 

The kid may be a brat sometimes, but he was very stressed. 

The next day I woke up with an urgent anxiety settled over my chest. I needed to do something as soon as possible, so I woke up Keith. “We have to go. Now.” 

“What?” He pushed himself up onto his elbows, staring at me with bleary eyes. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

“I don’t know, I just have a weird feeling.” 

Keith got dressed, I grabbed some food from the kitchen to take with us and eat on the go, and we met at the Black Lion. 

We were out for a long time. Keith was a little annoyed with me because we weren’t going anywhere in particular but he understood that I was antsy. He had days like those, too, after all, but I knew what that feeling was, and this wasn’t it. I don’t know how to explain what I felt, really, other than that feeling when you’re running really late for an appointment so you’re going way above the speed limit when driving but knowing that it won’t get you there in time. 

Suddenly, the Black Lion stopped and turned. It threw me off my feet and I hit my head on the ground. The roar it let out seconds later added to my pain. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked the lion, gripping the controls a little tighter. A scanner popped up and began to pulse. 

“It’s Shiro,” I whispered. 

“We found him,” Keith agreed.

I started to dance on my feet with a huge smile. “Keith! We found him!” I leaned over his seat and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. After giving him a few shakes and squeezes, we laughed, feeling the huge weight be lifted from our shoulders. That relief was so sweet, something I hadn’t felt in years. 

“He’s too far away for us to go now.” I had yet to learn Altean completely, so I had no clue what his screen said. “We need the castle.” Why we needed the castle I would soon learn. It could travel through space a lot faster than any of the lions could. Within a couple of hours, Shiro’s ship was in our sights. 

Once the Black Lion was close enough to Shiro’s ship, I scrambled to put an extra space suit on and together Keith and I jetted to the Galran ship. Shiro, with movements sluggish and weak, managed to press a few buttons to open it and we took him back to the lion. I sat with him, hugging his bicep and rubbing his back as he took long, deep breaths. 

“How did you get here?” he rasped, looking at me with a soft expression. He was a little dazed because of his previous lack of oxygen, but he seemed to be doing better now. 

I shook my head. That story was too long to tell now, while he was barely conscious. “I’ll tell you later, my love.” I pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek and brushed his long stringy hair out of his eyes. A decent hair washing and haircut were definitely in his near future. 

It was then that I noticed the glint of metal on his other arm. I would ask later. 

“I’m ready to take a nap,” Shiro said and laughed breathily. 

“Me too.” After a few moments of silence, Ketih landed the lion back in the castle. I helped Shiro stand up. Walking down the ramp was a struggle for him. He was so weak shaky, I was afraid that he would fall down. Luckily he managed to stay upright. He nodded and said hello to each of the Paladins, and we took him to shower and get cleaned up. Keith helped with that, me being too dazed to be of any use. Shiro emerged wearing clean clothes and sporting a new haircut. I helped him to his room. 

“Stay,” he murmured when I helped him lay down. Of course I would stay. In fact, I would never leave his side again. 

Shiro insisted on hearing my story before he went to sleep, so I recounted my journey to him: being stuck in another universe, my teammates dying, meeting Slav and Sven, being found by Keith and going back with him, finding out he was missing... I described to him how I felt while trying to find him. I told him about the tug I felt in my heart and how I knew he was alive through that. “And then today, I felt so anxious, I think I knew I needed to find you as soon as possible. It’s like my soul knew you were in trouble. And... in finding you, I think that... in whatever universe, my soul will find you.” 

Shiro smiled and kissed me softly. Soon we were asleep, comfortable in each other’s arms. I was so relieved that the weight on my chest was gone. I had survived, I’d found Shiro, and even though my teammates were dead, I wouldn’t have this ending any other way.