#pearls halo is empty because she has no hearts left

[dailypearldoodles]

Day 559

The end

[lipstickbisous]

the rei brown series (1/3)

PICTURE FRAMES.

notes: yeah so i do write for (y/n) lol. just not for my oberyn series. this will have two parts but that’s it. this really has nothing to do with the plot of narcos, so sorry, but instead, we’re getting self-loathing javi. literally the only thing i’m good at is angst so...send that shit in. heaavvvvyyyy inspo from @gummiishark 😘

IT IS IMPORTANT THAT YOU LISTEN TO THE SONG. 

the poem used is NOT MINE.

there is a part that might not add up with the whole 80′s setting, just ignore that pls.

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: what happens when memories begin to resurface and javi can’t stop them?

warnings: A N G S T -- ANGST ANGST ANGST. there will be a part two but ANGST. an a john mulaney reference ;)

based off of picture frames by rei brown.

word count: 3.2k

it was dark. that was all javi knew in the moment because he didn’t feel like getting up to check the clock in his kitchen. it hung delicately on his wall, almost like how his heart was delicately and barely clinging onto life. something inside of him was hurting, and it hadn’t hurt in a long time. it was foreign, yet when javier first felt the pang, he was nostalgic.

nostalgic of you? most likely, but he hadn’t thought of you in the past twenty years. it’d been too long, and if he was being honest, he’d been too busy--so he assumed that you had been as well. that you were married off to a kind man, because that’s what you deserved, with several beautiful children, a dog, a big house with good money (because that’s what you deserved). he wasn’t sure if you had gotten that, but he hoped to god it’s what life was meant for you. he knew was his life meant now--cheap alcohol and cigerattes, expensive girls and informants, and a job that had him slumped on his couch, ignoring the spanish being spoken on his television. 

he had wasted the past two decades with a career he thought was destined for him, but instead, he had made his living in murder. javi had spent countless nights with girls who were now unidentifiable. three nights ago, he had a pretty brunette in his bed, and once she left in the morning, he couldn’t even remember her name. martina? no, it started with an ‘f’, he was sure...

even though he had managed to convince himself over twenty years that he had completely rid himself of you for good, he could still remember your name. your teenage face smiling in the texas sunlight. sometimes, you would come over to the ranch and simply just sit with the horses. you’d stated that they had a certain essence to them that you enjoyed, but he knew that despite the girls in your grade teasing you about it, horses were your favorite animal. you had light laugh lines creasing from behind your nostrils to the corners of your mouth every time you laughed. javier could remember admiring them.

god, javier admired everything about you. even now, as his eyes were focused on the television but couldn’t think about a single thing it was showing him, he still admired the way you had laughed during summer hang-outs, or during the halls of high school when he tried to crack a joke. and they hadn’t even all that funny--but then again, you did have a big sense of humor and were easily amused.

he had polaroids of the two of you somewhere in his bedroom. he had made sure to pack them along with him on his way to colombia. he didn’t even want to think about the last time you two had spoke. it had been a neutral departing, and even if javi didn’t know it, you were both hiding things you had to say. he’d given it to you simply--a straightforward “i’m leaving texas”--and you were frozen. 

you wanted to support him, of course you wanted to support him. you would be attending college as well, but you were staying in the state. your mother had been scared to death of you leaving texas for school, and as much as you hated it, you could never defy your mother. so, in that moment, you hadn’t moved for a good three minutes. it took a gentle hand on your shoulder to wake you.

“oh,” you whispered, but it was more of an incoherent noise. “that’s nice.” you’d said as well.

at first, you were angry that he could go back on a promise he made to you when you were both four years old--neither of you would ever leave the other. then, you were quick to realize that your frustration was nothing more than your fault. why would you back everything that was happening on a stupid promise you made when you were four years old?

he’d driven you home that night and you had murmured a quiet goodbye in the sticky summer air, but it had gotten caught on its way to javier’s ears. to him, you had left his truck without a word.

javier pushed that memory away. he dug a hole in his brain and buried the thought in its gravery, shoving the dirty onto its wooden box and taking a swig of whiskey. he stood from his couch and flipped the television off, watching as its screen remained with the green halo and the top was still hot. the streets outside of his apartment were always loud, but even now, whether it was a coincidence or not, only two or three cars were passing by quietly. 

he let out a grumble and flipped off the light to his living room and kitchen, stumbling into his bedroom and collapsing on top of the bed. his sheets, a pristine pearl white, usually calmed him in the dead of night when he had a long day at work or maybe he had lost an officer. these sheets, the ones that held so many girls but never you, now did nothing for him. even the smell seemed bland, they weren’t the normal fresh detergent smell. he pressed his cheek flat against the mattress and pulled a pillow over his head, trying to muffle out any small noise or sight that could bother him in the morning. when stuck between his bed and pillow, he exhaled and immediately cringed. his breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes and whatever spicy food he’d eaten that night--he couldn’t even remember.

then, an idea sparked. it hadn’t been sinful or devilish but his eyes shot open and he threw the pillow to the floor. a car drove past his window, the lights moving through his room. javier propelled himself from his bed and swung his hand over the floor lamp in next to his desk. the room was illuminated and he could only imagine how insane he looked; his hair tousled in different directions, his eyes puffy from absentmindedly crying, his hands frantically running themselves over every piece of furniture in his room. he flipped the covers from his bed and looked underneath but found no monsters or anything. he pulled out drawers from his desk and emptied their contents onto the floor, but only found highlighters, papers, pens, and work-related material (that, if javier was being honest, should not have been in his home). he left the empty drawers on the floor and turned to the bookshelf, pulling every book off of its surface until the shelves were bare.

a hand rubbed over his mouth as he felt tears threatening him again. he could not cry--he wouldn’t. it was then that javi realized the mess he had made and his anxiety completely tipped him off of the cliff edge. he began to lose his composure, breaking down in a way that he was sure made him look ugly. he fell to his knees and leaned against the end of his bed, bringing his knees to his chest. he wore only a t-shirt and boxers, but even in the colombian heat, he felt cold. 

he couldn’t bring himself to say your name. javier felt that just the small noise of his own voice would scare him, but he had always thought your name was the prettiest.

(y/n). he thought in his head, that mental voice almost screaming at him. just fucking say it. 

javier stuttered, choking on his own words, and he never stuttered. he always knew exactly what he wanted, and in this moment, he only wanted you. but you were over a thousand miles away and he had no idea if you even still thought about him. he hoped so, but he wouldn’t blame you if the name “javier peña” hadn’t been used by your lips in a long time.

back in texas all that time ago, he had left the next day. you called his father back at the ranch to try and make some sort of contact but the news had been announced that javier peña was no longer in texas and was on his way to a new school to meet new people and--this hurt you the worst--new girls.

you had never been one for jealousy. it was a vile monster that you just morally could not let take control over you, but for the second and that second only, it was all you felt. you loved javier and he just left? he left you at home while he traveled over the country.

javier didn’t dare to think about it. as he continued to stutter, he let out the smallest of whimpers with the syllables of your name. “(y/n),” he cried to himself and squeezed his eyes shut. hot tears stained his cheeks as they continued to flow in a way that seemed endless. the feeling of his lips pronouncing your name sent chills down his spine as he said it again, “(y/n).”

there were now small splotches on his shirt where his tears had left his face and dripped onto the fabric, and when pressed flush against his skin as he stood, it felt icy. he didn’t feel like doing much, and maybe that was because in his eyes, he had wasted almost his entire life so far on a fucking job. he was practically praying that you had found something good to do--even maybe hoping that you would still visit the ranch sometimes to sit with the horses, but that seemed like a stretch considering your last encounter. 

finally, javi looked to his small closet that held nothing more than button-up shirts, tan-colored suits, and stacks of blue jeans. he chewed on his bottom lip and furrowed a brow. he couldn’t have possibly been that simple as to put something he held so close to his heart in his...closet? his feet carried him to the closet doors before he ripped them open and began throwing out hangers of clothes onto his bed. really, he didn’t care if it was a mess now--he’d clean it up later because in this moment, what he was searching for was all that mattered.

there was a shelf above the bar of his closet that held all of his hangers, but even though javier was considerably tall, he couldn’t reach it. with a harsh sigh, he kicked all of the clothes surrounding him on the floor away and grabbed the chair from his desk. he cringed as the sound of the wooden pegs meeting the wooden floor was insanely loud in the quiet moment before standing on the chair. he could just barely see over the shelf, but he didn’t need to see anymore. a large cardboard box that had been collecting dust and sitting in bored in closet for years seemed to shine in a halo of angelic light. his gaze softened once his hand reached the back and he pulled the box down to him. 

the creases of the cardboard had aged over time and the edges were slightly ripped, but overall, it had been kept in good shape--even when considering that javi hadn’t even looked at it for a long time, let alone hold it in his arms.

it felt like it was almost an historic artifact, that if javier applied just a bit too much pressure, it would turn to dust in his hold. he breathed carefully before gently setting it down on his bed, throwing the hangers of clothes onto the floor. currently, not a square inch of wooden flooring could be seen in his room. his eyes were wide as he traced his fingers over the box, recognizing the faded logo of the brand of boots you wore in highschool. he’d asked for your shoe box, you had no idea why, but now here javier sat with it in front of him all these years later. 

his fingers just barely grazed over the edge of the lid before lifting it from the rest of the box, the dust gently blowing the air and small puffs of his breath. the first thing he noticed was the photo of you he held dearest.

it had been winter in texas and you were both sixteen. usually, during the cold season, because your hometown was so close to the border, the most winter-ish reaction you could get from texas was ice, but this year had been special because it had snowed. little snowflakes fell so delicately and collected on the ground until it grew to be at least several inches high. the roads were completely ice so your school had been cancelled on that thursday. it had been, personally, you and javi’s first taste of snow. and you both had spent ten minutes outside, bundled up in snow gear you never had to use before until you both decided that the snow was not for you and you retreated inside. his father had even gone as far to make hot cocoa and sandwiches for you two. javi had taken the photo with his father’s camera, one that he normally wasn’t allowed to use, when he had captured the perfect moment of you caught up in your laughter. 

he pulled out various other photos from that day and others out of the box and reached a series of polaroids, and this time, it had been from summer. you had daisies in your hair because javier had taken the time to weave them through they strands so they stayed in place. he remembered how you had poked fun at him because while the gesture was so effortless, he stuck his tongue out like he was intently working. in the picture you sat in the fields while the horses were home in their stables, but a small foal had managed to escape. it’s wobbly knees kept it struggling to stand. the next photo was you noticing the creature almost falling over behind you. the third was you laughing and holding it up with your hands on both sides of its stomach.

you had never faked a smile. javier knew so because the one time you had tried, it had gone horribly wrong and he saw right through it. you immediately spilled everything that had been bothering you and he took you out for dinner the diner. 

he continued to shuffle through the polaroids, carefully examining each one that showed your genuine excitement and happiness of life. his fingers would trace around the rim before he sensitively placed them in one large pile. he grew closer to the bottom of the box, and as he began to see its cardboard base and that boot logo again, his art ached. back in texas, he had so many more photos of you and he absolutely loathed his younger self for not packing them. 

there was more in the box than just photos. he had also managed to pack one of your hoodies because you had left it at his house and never bothered to retrieve it. javier wasn’t sure if the act was creepy in a way, but the fabric had been so soft that whenever he held it, he thought of you. of course, during the past years, the smell of your perfume had completely faded and the sweatshirt smelled like any other old hoodie. 

beneath the hoodie was a numerous amount of papers you had written and hidden in your room, but you had never been one for secrets. a day together over the summer and javi found them sticking out of your dresser drawer. he wasn’t sure if even to this day you knew he had them. on the paper, which had turned yellow due to age, you had written small poems. some had been about love, others about friends, and a few about summer and winter. (javi liked to believe that when you were writing about the winter ones, you were thinking of your time in the snow with him)

then, there were the poems he had written. he had never let you see any of them or even know about them. he had written them in a journal he kept at his desk, and whenever you asked about it, he would dismiss you and say it was ‘an old school journal he kept for notes’, but when javier was packing, he ripped each page out and clipped them together and put them in the box. tears clouded his vision as he reread his poems.

a sunflower soul, with rock and roll eyes. curious thoughts, and a heart of surprise.

he had written about you.

finally, javier stared down at an empty box, apart from the single card that remained at the bottom. it been hidden underneath every memory he had of you, and when his fingers unfolded the paper, he let out a choked sob when he recognized the numbers.

never in his life had javier felt such nausea. was the number even yours? were you even in texas anymore? you could’ve moved to fucking new york and completely altered your life. but...it wouldn’t hurt to try...right? he stood from his knees, instantly feeling the imprinted lines from the wooden flooring in his skin, and he only hesitated no more than two seconds before sprinting to his dining room, almost running straight past the phone.

with the paper in between his fingers and his hand violently shaking, his tears falling and his throat constricting to keep in a sob, he dialed the number and hopefully waited for a voice--any voice, even if it wasn’t yours, although if it did belong to himself, he didn’t know what he would do.

three dial tones later and no one had picked up. his eyes became lost in the darkness of his dining room before the line went blank. “no,” he whispered. “no, no, no, no.” so foolish of him to think that there could possibly be hope. javier dialed the numbers again and waited several seconds before a groggy voice answered. he realized just how late (or early) it had been and that whoever answered would be woken up by this phone call at two-thirty in the morning.

“hello?” the voice was unrecognizable yet familiar. javi was quiet, his breath even inaudible as he contemplated how to reply. “hello?” 

he chewed his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut, releasing any other tears that were preparing themselves to fall . “(y/n)?” he spoke your name again and god did it feel good to say the one word that gave him solace.

it was silent. unbearably, cruelly, life-threateningly silent. his breathing began to quick as he felt his heart stop. his brows furrowed in some sort of shock but he was defeated. he clenched the paper in his palm so that it crumpled with a gentle sound, the only thing that really broke that painful silence. until the voice spoke again.

“javi?” you whispered, sitting up in your bed. your eyes were now fully open, your drowsiness had completely left your body. your gaze into the darkness of your room softened as you began to happily cry. “javier?”

on the other side of the line, javi only smiled.

tags: literally no one lmao @gummiishark @cyarikaaa @honeyedspace @talesfromtheguild @absurdthirst @pascalisthepunkest @wakalas @zeldasayer @blushingwueen @forever-rogue @otherthingsinhead @pedropascalito @thewaythisis @javierpenaspinkshirt

[captain-emmajones]

Prompt - Dark ones Emma and Hook showing off their magic abilities to each other (some fluff before it all went to hell)

My Lover Resembles the Moon 

So anon, I added a bit (a lot) of smut to your fluff, but I hope you will still like this :’))

Missing scene 5x10: Emma has found Dark Hook, had reassured him they would get rid of the darkness together by showing him their love is strong enough to muffle the voices. What happened between this scene and the one where he learns Emma has been keeping Excalibur to herself? (You know the one that opens on them kissing and looking very satisfied before it all goes to hell). Basically sex in the forest for our two dark ones, quite eager to show each other their little magic tricks.

3000 words - Smut/Fluff - Ao3 

“If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating”

— Sylvia Plath. 

  “Come on, Hook. Let’s take a few minutes to ourselves – then we’ll join the others and defeat the darkness once and for all” Emma’s soft voice reached his ear as she gently grabbed his hand.

 They were still alone, just the two of them among the trees of this endless forest in which the fresh air was a welcoming delight.

 Her skin, their skin, was cold under his touch, and it was a bitter reminder that they weren’t properly alive.

 However, when she was holding his hand, darkness wasn’t all that scary anymore and he could even begin to imagine getting used to it.

 (For him, darkness was a very childish, very bright anger deep within his heart, an anger ready to jump and roar at the slightest noise.)

 As she guided him to lie down on the soft grass, Killian noticed Emma’s skin was of a very pale white under the moonlight. Tiny sparkles shone on her face – nothing like the crocodile’s scales – and he wondered by which enchantment she still looked like an angel when she was inhabited by the deepest darkness.

 As he settled his head above his free arm – they were still holding hands – and took in the view of a full moon in a sky full of stars, he felt no exhaustion in his bones, just a very peaceful humming in his soul that had replaced Rumpelstiltskin’s voice.

 He could hear fireflies fly by them, could see them blink in the dark.

 From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Emma undoing her hair, and he shifted to see long, white curls fall around her face. She was a sight for sore eyes, with this halo of light that surrounded her entire body.

 “You are still so beautiful, Swan,” The shy whisper of admiration escaped his mouth.

 “Still?” A small chuckle shook her shoulders as she smiled, amused. “Did you expect me to turn completely crocodile on you?” Her tone was playful but very soft, and he gripped her cold fingers tighter.

 It was enough, to feel her next to him. (Much like she had told him his simple presence was enough to distract her from the voices in her head, back in the castle.)

 However, he did feel it, the death in him, he did feel it because suddenly he wasn’t tired or cold anymore, and the only thing he could feel was his love for Emma.

 She was a tether to reality, to goodness, to hope. He couldn’t believe he had been furious at her a few minutes ago. He had felt betrayed by his love. It had been so easy to listen to the voices in his head and let wrath take him over.

 He gazed at her as she rested silently next to him, a content smile on her lips.

 She deserved better than this. (Than him.)

 “Killian?” she suddenly called him. She did not turn her face towards him, her eyes remained fixed on the moon, and he realized he had been staring and had forgotten to answer her.

 “Emma?” he echoed back. He was mesmerized by her beauty.

 He saw her lips part in a smile. “You forgot to answer me.”

 “You’re glowing, Swan,” was all he managed to exhale. It made her chuckle.

 Green eyes find his as she shifted towards him, one hand cupping her cheek, and his heart missed a beat. “To be fair, you are rather dashing too, as you would say.”

 A laughter shook his shoulders, and he completely forgot about the darkness. There was nothing else in his mind but Emma and the hand he felt strong in his, Emma and the halo of goodness surrounding her face, Emma who loved him and whom he would love until his dying breath.

 “You know,” her voice broke the silence once again, “when I was eight, my foster family had a house near a forest.” She paused, and he heard the emotion in her voice, the little tremor of pain. “The other kids and I, we went to catch fireflies.”

 His heart sank. He could imagine her tiny hands wrapped around the small insect, her eyes gazing at it with wonder. “I thought they were fairies” she continued on, smiling widely. “Don’t think I was that wrong, now.” And she tried laughing a bit, and Hook’s heart ached for his very fierce lover.

 Leaning on his left arm, he bended towards her. She watched him, her green eyes sparkling with the reflection of the stars. He stared at her for a few seconds more, his face just above hers, and it seemed his love had become a soft ocean inside his chest.

 “I love you, Swan,” he told her again. He did not give her the time to answer. Instead, he pressed his open mouth on hers, drinking her breath.

 The coldness of her lips and her skin almost made him stop, moved something unpleasing inside of him, but then she was kissing him back with passion and he forgot all about it.

 (It was easy to forget the darkness when she was with him, easy to replace it with a lot of love and attention, and perhaps there was no getting rid of it but this way.)

 His hand found her hair, found them silky and soft, as his tongue softly played with hers. Her fingers had settled into his hair, brushed the skin of his neck, and then he let go.

 He retreated just enough to see her eyes, and she was smiling, of a very content smile. He felt a very strong emotion wash over him. As long as they were together, darkness was nothing to fear.

 “Can I show you a little trick?” he suddenly asked, his fingers brushing her cheek as an odd excitation tickled his heart. She smiled into his touch.

 “Go ahead, Hook.”

 He snapped his fingers, and a firefly appeared on her knuckles. Its tiny, round body sat on the tip of her finger and its small wings reflected the stars, and she looked at it with a lot of caution and care.

 It made her smile. “Your magic is red,” she noticed out loud.

 He grinned. “Aye, does that surprise you?”

 She shook her head, and the firefly flew away. “No, seems very fitting for you.”

 He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. It was true that Swan’s magic was a pure light, even as she was the Dark One. “And why is that?”

 She bit her lower lip, and he waited for her to answer. “You are a passionate individual,” she eventually uttered, one finger tracing the shape of his open lips.

 Somehow those few words seemed to lit a very dangerous flame in his heart. The woman of his life was lying beneath him, in an empty forest, and their only companions were the crickets singing around them.

 “Am I?” he tempted, and suddenly the air became incredibly warm.

 “Oh yeah.” He held his breath at her quivering words, gazing intensely at her. He could have sworn they were both glowing with desire at that point.

 She was the one who lifted her face and kissed him again. This kiss was less gentle than the previous one. It was a wet, trembling kiss that left them both panting by the end of it.

 When they finally parted, he imagined there would have been pearls of sweat on his forehead – had he been properly alive. As for the woman lying on her back, her cheeks would have probably been the usual red they displayed when they engaged in such activities in the intimacy of his quarters. (Or for that matter, their room in Arthur’s castle lately.)

 “You want to see something impressive?” she suddenly asked him, with this breathless tone that sent shivers down his spine.

 “Aye, Swan,” he answered and he licked his lips in anticipation.

 One snap of her fingers and suddenly she was naked under the moonlight, and his fingers were touching her skin and his eyes were all over her, and he wasn’t breathing anymore.

 He swallowed, felt himself get hard under his leather pants. “That is a very interesting trick indeed,” he whispered, one finger tracing the side of her hip with thorough care, “allow me to modestly imitate you.”

 Another snap and he was naked as well.

 The forest suddenly seemed to be seriously lacking oxygen, as they both stared at each other. He was urged by the desire to mark each spot of the glowing skin he could see, wanted to kiss her and love her for the rest of his life.

 He saw her swallow beneath him, and he realized his cock was strong and conquering against her thighs.

 “Very well, Hook,” she whispered, “I see the student has outwitted the master.”

 He grinned and then he was melting on her lips, kissing her passionately. She moaned in his mouth, and he shifted to settle between her legs. His hand found her core and he discovered her as wet as he was hard against her skin.

 “Excited, are we, Swan?” he whispered against her lips, before beginning to kiss her milky neck.

 She buried her hands in his hand while her legs wrapped themselves around his torso. And she was lazily pressing her wet core against his erection, and it was soon a struggle to continue on simply kissing her skin.

 “Well, that is very presumptuous of you to say, Captain,” she uttered, and he could imagine the grin on her face.

 “Indeed, Swan,” and he left a wet, open mouth, kiss between her breasts that sent shivers in her body.

 He desperately wanted to take her, right now, especially when she was rubbing herself like this against his bare skin, and he could only think about what it would feel like to be inside of her, in her heat.

 He summoned his inner strength to take his sweet time to kiss her whole body. She soon became impatient, and grabbed his cock to guide him inside of her but he stopped her – pining her hand above her head.

 “Bad form, Swan,” he grinned, kissed her cheek, while she angrily rubbed harder against him. “Very bad form,” and he was stepping away to look at her in the eye.

 He saw the delicious fury in her eyes, and before he knew it he was suddenly under her. Magic.

 “I’ll show you bad form,” she affirmed, now on top of him, and if they had been alive her hair would have stuck to her forehead.

 Instead, it hurtled down her back with great beauty. She pressed herself entirely against him to kiss him once again, and he wrapped his arm tightly around her.

 She was driving him crazy. Letting his lips go, she took it upon herself to paint his skin with her kisses, starting with his neck. She pressed kisses all along his chest, down his stomach, and he realized he had been shutting his eyes when he opened them and found her gazing straight at him, just above his cock.

 “See anything you like, Captain?” she asked him, her breath tickling his sensitive skin.

 He held his breath, fisted his hands to hold back the tension inhabiting his body.

 “Aye, very much so.”

 She smiled again, of that impish, dangerous grin, and he was completely hers.

 “Good,” she whispered and then her mouth was over his cock. He clung to the blades of grass under them, breath stuck in his throat.

 Her hands had gently grabbed the base of his penis, while she pressed kisses along his length. Although his eyes were close, he could see stars.

 “Swan,” he moaned, and she was taking him completely into her mouth, and his toes were curling.

 She was ridiculously good at this. It wasn’t fair.

 As she sucked, and kissed, and sucked some more, he felt himself get dangerously close to coming.

  “Let me go” The small, urgent whisper echoed in the night. Wen she looked up, he seized the opportunity to grab her. “Sorry Swan, but we want this fun to last longer,” and with a swing of his hips, he was on top of her again.

 “Very well, Captain,” she chuckled, and her tone gave away her own anticipation, “now if you please could take what is yours…”

 “As you wish, Swan…”

 She guided him to her entrance while he rested his forearms on the fresh grass. In one long, a bit too abrupt stroke, he was inside of her, and he did not remember her to feel this good.

 “Bloody hell,” he whimpered, staying still for a few seconds to allow her to adjust to him.

 “Right,” she smiled, arms wrapped around his neck, “the only good side of the darkness—,” she started.

 “—is the sex, bloody hell, I can see that,”

 He had learned in the secret of their room in King Arthur’s castle that she had been having stronger orgasm than usual. He had, of course, been very intrigued. “Perhaps it only means I’m getting better day by day, Swan.” She had chuckled. “I can assure you, you’ve always been good but it’s as if the darkness amplifies my sensations…” And then he had taken it upon himself to prove her that her orgasm had everything to do with him and none with the darkness.

 Clearly, as he rocked his hips with hers, he realized just how very wrong he had been.

 The slow friction was soon not enough for the both of them.

 She buried a chuckle in the warmth of his neck. “Let me turn around,” she asked him.

 “Your wish is my command.”

 He withdrew himself to let her lie down on her stomach, and the sight of her ass under the moonlight was quite literally heaven sent.

 “Bloody hell, Swan,” he whispered, transfigured by what he was seeing.

 She was making herself comfortable underneath him, crossing her arm under her head, and lifting her hips so that he could have full access to her body.

 He licked his lips as his open palm traced the shape of her ass, and the line that went down to her clitoris. A shiver shook her as one, lazy finger penetrated her and she muffled a moan against her arms.

 She was so very wet.

 He couldn’t resist it. He leaned forward and kissed her there, his hand grabbing the full flesh.

 “Hook,” she groaned with a husky voice.

 He was tracing the shape of her inner folds with his tongue, a tongue that found itself very adventurous against her skin and explored her inner folds as well. He could feel how tense she was under his touch. Then, he was sucking her clitoris and her entire body was shaking.

 He felt her come closer and closer, in the way her thighs were lifting, tensed, and that’s when he decided to step back.

 “Hook!” the angry whispered attacked him right away.

 He chuckled a bit, and bounced back on his knees.

 “Coming to your rescue, princess…”

 Spreading wider her legs, he settled between them. With one hand, he penetrated her again and she felt so delicious against his skin he closed his eyes in delight.

 Bending towards her, he pressed a wet kiss between her shoulder blades while he went in her in long strokes.

 .

 When they had both come, she settled between his arm, and he snuggled her close. She still smelt like Emma.

 And perhaps was he still just Killian. Perhaps was there a way out for them. (But where had all the fireflies gone?)

 As she laid between his arms, he had this terrible, naïve, and selfish thought: they could run away – together. They could run all through the forest and never come back. They could be happy, together, even with this darkness inside of them. There was nothing they couldn’t do. There would be no more Dark Ones but them and their love.

 She tightened her grip around his waist, and he pressed a kiss against her temple.

 Selfishly, he almost wanted her to choose him – and he recognized the voice of darkness echoing in his thoughts. This voice murmured that he should be enough to make her completely and utterly happy – darkness and all – if only she truly loved him.

 (Oh, he was aware of the fact that this simply wasn’t a reality possible for them. Even if he asked her to run, even if she said yes, it would destroy them. Hypothetically, he wasn’t sure how long it would take her to miss her entire family and to want go back and to hate him for having made her chose.

 There wasn’t a reality in which she wouldn’t turn around to face him one day, and he would only see in her eyes disgust and betrayal and regrets.)

 But the thing was, he knew her to be the only person necessary to his happiness.

 She pressed another lazy kiss to his collarbone.

 She was his happy ending and his one true love and she would be his light in the darkness as well.

 As they lay together on the ground, he couldn’t help but notice the fireflies had stopped blinking in the night.

[artificialqueens]

After The Glitter Fades, Chapter Three (Shalaska) - Citrus

A/N: two fics in the queue, on halloween no less? i couldn’t be more on-brand if i tried! this chapter has more smut because i am what? predictable.

-

Unlike many of the other coven rituals, Alaska was expressly not invited to attend their Samhain ritual.

“It’s not anything to do with you, baby,” Sharon had promised her when she broke the news, “It’s just… Samhain is an incredibly sacred night for witches, and especially our coven. We’ve never had an observer on Samhain.”

“I get it,” Alaska had answered, and Sharon had looked surprised at that answer. “It’s not for me to watch,” she continued, “It’s your thing. I totally, totally understand.”

Sharon had been delighted that Alaska wasn’t angry with her, especially after their fight. Alaska had even asked if Sharon minded whether she went to Courtney’s party early, and Sharon could meet her later on. This arrangement seemed to suit them both, and both women had left the conversation feeling excited about the upcoming holiday.

When the day came, Alaska and Sharon prepared very differently. Alaska spent the early evening making sure that her makeup was perfect and her costume wasn’t missing any crucial details. She arrived at Courtney’s in perfect time, bottle of peach schnapps in hand, and was greeted by friends who she hadn’t seen in far too many weeks.

Sharon spent her morning cleansing her apartment and meditating, preparing for the gruelling evening ahead of her. Samhain was never easy on her, and she needed all of the spiritual protection that she could possibly get. She dressed in her ritual clothing, reserved for Samhain now that they tended to do smaller rituals for other Sabbats, and washed her face; ritual makeup would come later. She arrived at the covenstead just before sunset and was greeted by her sisters, all wearing their ritual garments, some of them wearing tokens of their deities or loved ones.

Max put a hand on Sharon’s shoulder, smiling at her friend. “She’s already close,” she said softly. “I hardly need to call her, she’s so excited to see you.”

Sharon smiled back. “I’m excited to see her too.”

-

“Okay, when you told me about this costume idea, I didn’t expect you to show up looking like Lady Gaga’s lost fucking twin sister,” Courtney accused with a grin, straightening her halo. Alaska laughed, swirling her drink around in her glass and adjusting her jacket.

“You didn’t specify,” she drawled. “I worked with what I had.”

“You are such a liar, ” their friend Willam crowed, “You worked on this costume for like a month straight! I saw your Snapchats, dumbass.”

Alaska giggled. “I meant my face. The costume took way too much effort.”

“You do look like her,” Courtney admitted, “Your girlfriend is lucky.”

“What’s her name again?” Willam asked. “I forgot.”

Alaska smiled at the mere mention of her girlfriend, and it obviously didn’t escape their notice, but they remained quiet. “Her name’s Sharon,” she answered, setting her empty glass down and accepting the cracked can of cider that Courtney supplied her with.

“It seems like things are going well with her, then?” Court asked, happy to see Alaska so smitten.

“Yeah, I think so. I stay over at her place a lot, and her friends are really great. I miss you two, though.”

Willam leaned in excitedly. “I bet she’s gonna ask you to move in,” she said. Alaska bit her lip, surprised but pleased by Willam’s suggestion.

“I dunno, it’s only been a couple of months… But then again, that’s forever in lesbian time.”

Courtney grinned. “When are we gonna meet this mysterious Sharon anyway? I thought you were gonna drag her along tonight.”

“She’ll be here later,” Alaska promised. “She’s really devoted to her coven, and this is, like, a super special holiday for them. I promise you’ll get to meet her soon.”

“How hot is she, scale from one to ten?” Willam pried. “One is Courtney’s ex and ten is me, obviously.”

Alaska didn’t answer; none of them could stop laughing for long enough.

-

Samhain, Samhain, let the ritual begin,

We call upon our sacred ancestors to come in

Samhain, Samhain, we call upon our kin,

We call upon our dear departed loved ones to come in

The Veil between the worlds is thin

Our hearts reach cross the sea of time

To bring our loved ones in

Samhain, Samhain we honor all our kin

We honor those who’ve gone before

As the Great Wheel turns again

Sharon was overjoyed to be with her coven on her favorite night of the entire year, but there was another reason for her joy; the veil between life and death was at its thinnest on Samhain night, and Sharon knew this well.

They all helped toss wood onto the bonfire, some of the logs anointed with oils or herbs, and the Dianic witches built small altars to their goddesses around the large fire pit. Sharon brought out a small jar of ash from last year’s Samhain, anointing her sisters with the charred remains of their previous celebration before smearing it onto her own face as well. As the coven’s High Priestess, she was the one to light the bonfire, with a match and a few sheets of paper on which they had all written names of deceased loved ones whom they wished to honor.

The flames crackled in the middle at first, a small blaze, but soon climbed up the bone-dry logs, sending smoke billowing into the sky, sparks and ash fluttering in the wind like small spirits. The witches gathered around Max, surrounding their entire covenstead and backyard forest with a bubble of protection, and channelled all of their energy into her. Her lips parted, eyes rolling back into her skull as she began to shudder with the amount of energy surging through her, and Sharon squeezed her shoulder, making sure she remained grounded.

All of a sudden, Max’s hands shot out in front of her and she drew the shape of a door in bright white light, sending it away from her chest to fade into the night. She collapsed into her sisters’ waiting arms, accepting the potion that Fame pressed into her hands without question and downing it. The witches waited with bated breath, silently waiting for what they hoped would come.

Sharon’s eyes filled with tears as she felt a hand grasp hers, looking to her side to see her mother standing beside her. She fell into her arms with a soft cry of delight, squeezing her tight before pulling away.

“Mama…” she breathed, taking in the sight of a woman who had been dead for almost a decade. Her mother smiled.

“You look good, baby. Tell me all about this girl you’ve been seeing. Max tells me you’re pretty smitten,” she added, casting a glance at the recovering witch. Max smiled at her.

“Hello, Cassandra. It’s good to see you.”

Sharon’s mother grinned. “Well, I get to be corporeal one night a year, why not have fun?” she answered. “Sharon, baby, tell me everything.” Sharon sat in the grass with her mom, leaning into her embrace and letting Cassandra braid her hair as she told her all about Alaska, how the shop was thriving, how happy she was. The other witches were speaking with spirits of their own; animal spirits flocked around Pearl, listening to her spin stories, while Jinkx chatted quietly with her great-grandmother. Raja smoked lazily while she communed with a minor deity, Katya spoke in quick, practiced Russian with an ancestor, and Fame kept Max in her arms as she recovered from parting the veil.

“You sound like you’re really happy with this girl,” Cassandra said as she finished off Sharon’s braid. “I’m so glad.”

“I love her, Mom, I really do,” Sharon said. “I’m gonna ask her to move in with me tonight.”

“Tonight, huh? Not slaving over making Samhain perfect this year?” her mother teased her.

Sharon grinned. “Last year it had to be perfect because it was the first Samhain we celebrated at Supernature ,” she answered. “Alaska and I compromised, and I’m going to meet her friends at a Halloween party after this.”

“That’s my girl,” Cassandra smiled, “My little spook. Am I going to get to meet this Alaska?”

Sharon’s eyes widened. “You want to?”

“Of course I do, Sharon. I may not be around on Earth anymore, but I can tell how happy you are. I’d like to meet her before next year’s Samhain.”

Sharon nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll take you.”

-

“There’s something about that name that’s very familiar to me, you know,” Cassandra mused as Sharon changed into her Halloween costume. “I swear I knew an Alaska when I was alive…”

Sharon rolled her eyes at her mother’s ghost. “I doubt you knew her, she’s younger than I am.”

“What’s her family name?” Cassandra asked. Sharon snorted out a laugh.

“Thunderfuck, believe it or not. She says it’s European or something.”

Cassandra smiled triumphantly. “That’s it! Elsie Thunderfuck.”

“Alaska, Mom. Her name is Alaska.” Cassandra rolled her eyes.

“No, Shar-bear, her grandmother’s name is Eloise, we called her Elsie. I knew her, back when I was… y’know. Alive.”

Sharon paused, eyeliner brush hovering inches from her face. “What?”

Cassandra shrugged. “We worked in the same circles for a while. She was always very wise back then, I’m sure she taught her granddaughter well.”

“Alaska never knew who she got her magickal blood from,” Sharon breathed, eyes wide as she faced her mother. “We knew that it was there because she had that spark, but… We never knew who. ”

“Well, now you know,” Cassandra chuckled. “I don’t suppose she’s ever attempted to contact any spirits before, has she? Are you sure this’ll work?”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “It’ll work, Mom. She’s really intuitive, and she was already somewhat spiritual before we met. She’ll love you.”

When they got to the party, the door was opened by none other than Alaska, drink in hand and smiling. Her smile widened when she saw Sharon, then faltered when she saw that Sharon hadn’t come alone. Sharon took her girlfriend’s hand with a smile, leading her outside onto Courtney’s porch and sitting them both down on the bench, Cassandra sitting opposite them.

“Baby, this is gonna sound crazy, but please just bear with me… This is Cassandra. My mother.”

Alaska’s gaze flickered between the two women as her teeth worried her lower lip. “Your… Sharon, I thought your mom was…”

“Dead?” Cassandra finished for her. When Alaska gave a small nod, she smiled. “Well, believe it or not, I am.”

“On Samhain night, the veil between worlds is at its thinnest,” Sharon explained. “Our world is closer to the spirit world tonight than it is at any other part of the year. It’s easiest to make connections through the veil, and a lot of us do… Even non-witches are somewhat more aware of spiritual presences on Samhain.”

“It’s the one night a year that I can make my corporeal presence known here on Earth,” Cassandra said, squeezing Sharon’s hand. “Sharon can reach out to me whenever she wants, but this is the one night that I can be present with my daughter, just for a few hours.”

“That… makes a weird amount of sense,” Alaska admitted, breaking her respectful silence. “Like, I should definitely be more freaked out about this than I am, but then again, I’m dating Sharon, and she does a lot of freaky shit. Oops,” she added, blushing bright pink and making Sharon laugh.

“She knows, pumpkin. I brought her along because she wanted to meet you.”

“I wanted to see the woman who’s been making my little girl so happy,” Cassandra smiled, reaching out to take Alaska’s hand in her own. “Oh my, she’s been teaching you well. Your aura is positively glowing, and you’re radiating with energy.”

“God, you really are just like your mother,” Alaska giggled, leaning over to give Sharon a peck on the cheek. Sharon sighed happily and pulled her closer, letting Alaska snuggle into her side.

“So, Alaska… How did you two meet?”

The three of them spoke for almost two hours, not paying any attention to the few partygoers who would come outside for a smoke or a breath of fresh air. Alaska leaned into Sharon’s side as she told Cassandra the story of how they’d met, how Sharon had wooed her, and how happy they made each other. Sharon’s heart was so full that she thought she might burst; not only were her girlfriend and her mother both here with her, but they were getting along incredibly well, even better than she could have hoped.

As it got later and later, Alaska snuggled closer into Sharon, happy to just listen to her talk to her mother. She blushed when Sharon gushed about her and how much she loved her, a little shy now that Cassandra’s attention was no longer on her. She exuded a calming energy, almost seeming to radiate wisdom and kindness, and Alaska liked watching the way she interacted with her daughter, who was much more… chaotic. Cassandra never let go of Sharon’s hand, not even once, and it was clear that Sharon desperately wanted the contact between them to last as long as possible.

“My love, it’s getting late…” Cassandra ventured. Sharon’s expression changed from one of contentment to one of resigned sadness. She nodded wordlessly, pulling away from Alaska with a kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead.

“I’ll be back in just a second, baby… This is something I’d rather do alone.”

Alaska smiled, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. “Go, Shar. I’ll wait for you. Tell your mama I was happy to meet her.” Sharon smiled back, following her mother down the porch steps and stepping out to the curb.

Cassandra took both of Sharon’s hands in her own, staring into her daughter’s eyes. “You know how this goes,” she said with a sad smile. “I have other people to visit tonight, even if it’s just for a moment. If I could, I’d spend every single second with you, but… You’re not on your own like you were when you were younger. You have the coven, and now you have Alaska.”

“None of them are you, Mama. I’ll still miss you just as much.”

“I know you will, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, I always do. But I’ll be with you always, even when I’m not physically here.” She hugged Sharon, and Sharon hugged her back tight, never wanting to let go.

“I love you,” she whispered, trying not to cry. “This never gets fucking easier.”

“I love you too, baby girl,” Cassandra replied, pulling away from their embrace and pressing a soft kiss to her daughter’s hair. “I am so, so proud of you. Blessed be, my Sharon. You’ll see me again soon.”

“Blessed be,” Sharon echoed, smiling despite her voice being thick with tears. “Til next time, Mama.”

With one last grin at her daughter, Cassandra walked away from the house, her image fading away with each step she took. The moment she was gone, Sharon felt a hand slip into her own, and turned to find Alaska at her side. Alaska offered a smile and a soft kiss against her lips, brushing a lock of hair away from Sharon’s face.

“You okay?”

Sharon nodded. “I’m okay. I just needed a moment to say goodbye… It’s hard to wait a year, but I know some people aren’t as lucky as I am. I don’t think I’d be half as okay as I am if I never saw her again, y’know?”

“God, yeah, I can’t imagine,” Alaska answered. “You think you’re up to coming inside and saying hi to some friends? They really wanna meet you, but we can go home if you’re feeling drained.” Sharon’s heart swelled; Alaska was so attentive and cared for her so deeply, and she was still in awe that she had such a perfect lover.

“You’re sweet.” Sharon nuzzled Alaska’s neck tenderly, nipping at her jaw to make her squeak in surprise. “I’m good, promise. I’d love to meet your friends, angel.”

As soon as they walked in the door, they were greeted by a very excited Courtney and Willam, both of them more than a bit tipsy and holding hands.

“Lasky! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“Almost thought you’d abandoned us to get some tail,” Willam snickered, looking pleased with herself when Courtney laughed at the obvious reference to Willam’s mermaid costume. Alaska giggled and leaned into Sharon’s side.

“This is Sharon. Sharon, these two idiots are my best friends, Courtney and Willam.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you! We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope,” Sharon teased, pulling Lasky closer by the waist. “You’re both gorgeous, by the way. Love the costumes.”

“Your girlfriend outdid us all,” Willam grinned. “Fuckin’ overachiever. Always has to be the best.”

“That’s not true!” Alaska whined, pouting when Sharon shrugged her agreement with Willam. “Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“C’mon, come get some drinks and we can chat,” Courtney urged. “I wanna get to know Alaska’s dream girl!” Alaska blushed, but followed her friends nonetheless, allowing Sharon to guide her with a strong yet gentle arm around her waist.

Despite it coinciding with a sacred witchcraft holiday that meant a lot to her, Halloween was still Sharon’s favorite day of the year. She loved that she was able to balance her craft with her favorite spooky time of year; she’d been with her coven and go to a party with her girlfriend, and she was happy to be able to share the night with all of the people she loved most.

Alaska’s friends were both very sweet, and she found it surprisingly refreshing to hang out with people who had absolutely no knowledge of witchcraft; it really did consume her life sometimes, along with a good number of her friendships, and she thought to herself that maybe she should find more people like Courtney and Willam. She definitely vibed better with Willam, feeling a spark between them that was promising, but she genuinely really liked Courtney too, and was glad that Alaska had such incredible friends.

As it got later and later, Alaska seemed to want to be closer to Sharon, getting cuddly and speaking less, and Sharon knew that it was time to go home. They said their goodbyes and promised to hang out again soon, and Sharon’s stomach filled with butterflies the moment that she and Alaska got into her car to go back to Sharon’s apartment.

Luckily for Sharon, Alaska already seemed to have a plan for the evening in mind, and Sharon found herself pinned against her front door almost the moment that it closed behind them, Alaska’s lips on hers and Alaska’s hands on her waist. She kissed back, smiling a little at her girlfriend’s eagerness, and stifled a moan when Alaska’s lips moved south to suck a hickey into her neck.

“Mmm, baby, there’s no rush,” she chuckled as Alaska’s hands roamed over her body, feeling her curves and squeezing her ass lightly. “C’mon, let’s get out of these costumes. We have all the time in the world.”

They made their way to Sharon’s bedroom, where their outfits were discarded, Sharon’s tossed over a chair with abandon and Alaska’s folded neatly because, well, she was Alaska. Sharon was quick to wipe the makeup off her face, standing in front of the mirror in only her underwear and scrubbing away the remnants of Vampira. Alaska approached her from behind, nude and fresh-faced, winding her arms around Sharon’s middle and nuzzling her neck sweetly, and Sharon’s heart swelled. Goddess, she was so in love with her.

“You gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna come to bed?” Alaska teased, wiggling her hips against Sharon’s backside. Sharon laughed and turned around to face her, stealing a soft kiss before pushing her away.

“Go pick a toy, you horny bitch,” she teased back. “Your favorite one, go get it.”

“Favorite to give or favorite to take?” Alaska asked with a glimmer in her eye. Sharon snorted.

“You really think I’m gonna let you top on Halloween, Thighs?”

Alaska laughed and turned away to look through their toy drawer, giving Sharon a lovely- and obviously intentional- view of her ass as she did so. Once Sharon’s face was clean of makeup, she moved to get on the bed, giving Alaska a light spank and snickering at the squeal that followed. The strap-on was left on the nightstand alongside a bottle of lube and a few other toys that Alaska was clearly hoping would be used that night, and Alaska joined her girlfriend on the bed, pushing Sharon against the mattress to kiss her deeply.

“You looked so hot tonight,” she murmured against Sharon’s lips, straddling her thigh. “I couldn’t say anything in front of your mom or my friends, but you’re so fucking sexy… I kinda wanted you to take me into the bathroom and fuck me there, just fast enough to leave me wanting more of you…”

Sharon smirked. “I would’ve liked to see you all desperate like that. Those little shorts you were wearing, Lasky? Sinful. You fucking tease.”

“They’re screen accurate,” Alaska whined as Sharon flipped their positions so that she could be on top. “I’m glad they worked, though… I love having you take control of me like this. Fucking love it.”

“I know you do,” Sharon teased, leaning down to kiss Alaska’s neck and hear her soft, needy moans. “Picking out all those toys… I hate to disappoint you, but we’re not gonna use them tonight.”

Alaska pouted, but she couldn’t keep it up for long with Sharon’s left hand on her breast and her right hand squeezing her thigh. “Why not?” she whined, soft and needy as Sharon leaned down to lick at her nipple and gasping at the sensation. Sharon hummed, sucking lightly at Alaska’s delicate skin before pulling away.

“I don’t wanna use toys tonight, other than the dick. I don’t wanna tease you, I just wanna worship you and make you feel good. I wanna make love to you, baby.” Alaska let out a soft noise, eyes dark with arousal, and she bit her lip.

“I… I like that,” she admitted in little more than a whisper. “I love you, you know that right?”

“Of course I do,” Sharon replied, spreading Alaska’s thighs apart and dipping a finger between her folds. “I love you so fucking much, Lasky.” Her finger stroked Alaska lightly, feeling how wet she was, how much she wanted her. She was so needy, letting out a little moan when Sharon’s mouth began working over her chest again as she continued to tease her lightly. She added a second finger to her gentle exploration, fingertips sliding over Alaska’s clit and causing her to gasp, hands moving to tangle in Sharon’s hair as the witch kissed down her stomach.

Alaska shifted her position slightly, spreading her legs and offering up her pussy to Sharon with dark eyes. She bit back a smile when Sharon took a moment to throw her hair into a ponytail, but the smile disappeared in a gasp of pleasure as Sharon’s tongue swirled over her pussy.

“ Oh… Oh, Sharon… ”

Sharon was slow and methodical as she ate Alaska out, alternating between light, teasing flicks to her clit and long, full licks against her entire pussy, her arms wrapped around Alaska’s thighs to keep her close. She would usually tease more, building Alaska up only to pull away and watch her whine and beg, but she wanted to be good to her tonight, wanted to see her experience true pleasure. When Alaska came for the first time, her hands tightened in Sharon’s hair and her thighs shook around her head, her pouty lips parted as she moaned and gasped her lover’s name, back arching off the bed. As she came down, Sharon pulled herself up to lay beside her, stroking nonsensical patterns into Lasky’s soft tummy as she relaxed again.

Alaska pulled Sharon in very suddenly to give her a deep, sensual kiss, pulling away only when she was satisfied that she’d made Sharon flush just a little. “Thank you,” she murmured, a sweet, coy smile pulling at her lips. “Fuck, that was so good. You’re so good to me.”

“That’s not all you’re getting tonight, baby,” Sharon promised, slipping out of her lingerie and into the strap-on harness. Alaska blushed at the sight of her girlfriend looking so sexy and confident as she lubed up the long blue cock between her legs, and pulled her down for another kiss.

“You wanted to make love to me?” she breathed against Sharon’s lips, wrapping her legs around her hips. “Make love to me, Sharon.”

Sharon didn’t need to be told twice; she slid into Alaska slowly, kissing every inch of skin she could reach until she was fully sheathed inside her girlfriend. When she started moving, Alaska let out a whimper; Sharon’s thrusts were slow yet deep, just hard enough to make Lasky moan with each one and grip the sheets. She kept her pace the same for the entire time that she fucked Alaska, slow and tender, until the blonde beneath her was a flushed, panting, squirming mess. When she warned Sharon that she was going to come, her voice was barely more than a rough, low moan, and she held onto Sharon tightly as she slipped away into bliss.

This was the moment. Alaska was dreamy, floating on a cloud of post-orgasmic pleasure, and Sharon pulled out gently to lay by her side once more.

“Lasky?” she ventured, lacing their fingers together.

“Mmm?”

“I want you to move in with me.”

Alaska was quiet for a moment, then rolled onto her side to face Sharon, eyes soft and bright. “Yeah?”

Sharon nodded. “Yeah. I want this every day. I wanna go to sleep with you at night and wake up with you in the morning, and I wanna hear you sing in the shower and complain that I leave my stuff everywhere, and I want to make love to you every single night.”

Alaska blinked back tears, closing in for a soft kiss. “I want that too.”

“Really? You… You’ll move in with me?”

Alaska laughed and nodded, giving Sharon another kiss.

“Yeah, Noodles. I will.”

[thatmexisaurusrex]

The Shotgun Angel: Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1: THE SHOTGUN ANGEL

 Wisteria was built around the Undying Forest. Buildings made so that when the trees grew, they had room. Buildings weren’t built by cutting down to create a flattened plain, no, they were built around whatever was there, indoor spaces and green spaces one and the same in the Old parts of town, high on the mountain top where the Heavens meet the earth. People came from all over the world to see a city created to compliment its natural biome, meant to accentuate and appreciate the awe-inspiring fauna and flora on top of the Endless Mountain.

And then there were the edges of Wisteria, New Town. Temporary bungalows made to withstand perhaps a season if they were lucky, tin thin and lacking the elegance of the city that loomed above it. Most tourists tended to ignore New Town. It wasn’t exactly a prime destination, after all. It wasn’t something many people spoke of unless bemoaning a poverty that felt too immense to wipe clean from their eyes or if you lived there and simply couldn’t ignore the nature of your habitat. However, deep in the heart of New Town, hidden near a crumbling chapel, it was said their lives a daemon spawn who will help anyone for the right price.

The first thing Pearl noticed about Noel Baird was her eyes. Pearl didn’t know eyes could be that color. As if someone concentrated the jewelry shine of a polished shell, moving between a seafoam and aqua depending on the light. She seemed to endure forever bedhead, despite trying to comb her short hair into some presentable shape. She wore a suit as if she knew she needed to look professional, yet the suit was too big on her, too unwieldy, making her seem like someone playing adult. Maybe she was. She looked younger than Pearl expected.

“You just going to stare at me all day or do you want something from me? If not, Stop wasting my time,” grumbled Noel, and Pearl didn’t expect how garbled the voice was, as if this thin, small young woman had irreparably burned her throat leaving whatever croak of a voice that was.

Perhaps that was the daemon in Noel.

Pearl straightened, trying to palm down creases in her own outfit as if her body were rejecting whatever Noel’s clothes were doing entirely.

“Yes. Quite. Well. My name is Pearl Morin and I had heard that Noel Baird would help anyone for a price – that you might be able to help me with my…complicated situation,” Pearl responded.

At first, there was a curdling of the face, a souring in the air when Noel heard “anything”, perhaps the tone Pearl had (it wasn’t as if Pearl hadn’t heard before that her tone wasn’t exactly “friendly” nor “amiable”). But there was a shift, as if Noel’s general rule was to always not judge a book by its cover, and the bristle softens as she stalks around Pearl.

“Your empty money, aren’t you?” asked Noel, her eyes devastating as they read Pearl in ways she felt uncomfortable in admitting, “Nice clothes, but worn, well-kept. You’re one disaster away from New Town. I see why you’re coming to me instead of, say, Holy Agency? Or, perhaps it’s the nature of the ‘problem’ you come to me with. Too embarrassing for the gossip hounds? Willing to risk them for New Town trances, but not the actual problem itself?”

Pearl squirmed under the judgement. She loathed it, some daemon spawn judging her, but she couldn’t say the girl was at all wrong. Which gave Pearl some solace for coming to her for aid in this grave matter.

“Do you have an office? Or will we talk amongst the miscreants in the alleyways and pray they don’t sell my secrets for fortunes?” Pearl said coldly.

Pearl was taller than this girl. She used her height as a point of pride, made sure her back, straight, made it pointedly clear that she would not be harassed by this pay-for-help creature. All Noel did was laugh, glancing over at the muddied children ogling them and shooing them off.

“They’ve never seen clothes so dazzling, but if you’re really so worried, we can meet inside,” explained Noel like Pearl was an idiot, vaguely gesturing for Pearl to follow her into the crumbling chapel behind her, which, strange.

Pearl couldn’t fathom how the structure was still standing, with how little upkeep it seemed to have in terms of the building itself and how archaic the building was. It even had stained glass of angels, surprisingly pristine and untouched unlike the rest of the building, something Pearl had never seen herself in person. It felt as if one particularly strong wind could bring this place down, which would be a shame due to the rare specimens of stained glass.

“I didn’t know such a place existed here,” mumbled Pearl, sensing a faint waft of smoke.

“That’s because no one quite cares for the chapels of yesteryear, left behind as you choose more interactive places of worship,” Noel explained, stepping into eyeline.

Pearl flinched when she noticed that it was Noel who brought about the smell of smoke. She was literally smoking in the church, yet seemed completely relaxed in between the pews.

“You’re, y-you’re,” Pearl stammered as Noel smiled at her, her teeth only slightly pointier looking than the average person – or perhaps that was a trick of the light, Pearl’s brain assuming there had to be something physically demonic about this cursed person.

“You think of daemons,” Noel replied without even needing to hear the answer, “You see, an ancestor of mine some five-hundred years ago offered up her soul as well as the souls of five-thousand of her offspring to the Daemon Azazel, Fallen Angel of Mercy, for gifts beyond her wildest dreams. She got the gifts. The rest of us were lost before we were ever given the choice. So, no. I’m not daemon spawn. I’m merely damned.”

She gestured to the smoke as if it was all settled, that reasoning was set. Maybe it was. But such a horrifying thought. To have your fate sealed before you were even alive, so far in the past that nothing could be done, there was no one to be angry at but probably those who birthed you thinking you could still have some semblance of a happy life.

“Is that why you do what you do?” Pearl asked.

Noel laughed again, more bitter.

“There’s nothing that can save me, you fancy mess. I do this because I want to,” Noel replied.

Noel glowered at the pity, so Pearl allowed herself to shut down such feelings. It wasn’t her fault a strange soul was given no chance. Noel leaned onto the pew, crossing her arms.

“Now, what seems to be your issue?” asked Noel.

There was no running from it, Pearl supposed. She let out a stifled sigh, sitting down in one of the pews.

“My brother, Aria, went missing some three weeks ago. He sometimes will do this. A few days, a week maybe, off partying around, drinking, gambling, but…not three weeks. I fear for him. Especially since he maintains a level of, well…rage against the fact that I seem to be the one keeping us afloat,” Pearl said, trying to find her words in her fidgeting hands, “Our father had drilled into his head that the man is supposed to keep a house afloat, and, well…I’ve always been better at the books. I even made sure he could go on his sprees with no dent in our finances, but he seems desperate to prove himself to be better than I and, from notes I found sprawled in his room, well…I fear for his soul.”

Noel bristled, moving away from the pew she leaned on.

“You’re telling me he’s going to make a deal with a daemon because he feels his fragile masculinity is threatened by you making sure he doesn’t burn through all of your funds?” growled Noel in a way Pearl never saw someone do for her, as if it was okay that she was the way she was and it was her brother in the wrong.

Pearl stuttered a nod. Noel roared, kicking a pew, the pew skewing sideways and awkwardly leaning onto the pew behind it. Noel froze, staring at what she had done.

“Oh, halos and harps,” grumbled Noel.

Pearl startled as a stumbling giant of a man hobbled out in undone priest clothes out from the door to some office Pearl didn’t notice hidden in the back corner. He didn’t look drunk like Pearl expected. More lacking sleep. He had stubble that didn’t quit, hair gelled to the heavens, and a piercing gaze to rival that of Noel. He pointed at Noel accusatorily.

“You break it, you buy it, kid,” the man rumbled, a voice both deep and authoritative with an edge of “kids have to listen to me if I sound like this, right?”.

Noel surprisingly panicked at his reaction, arms flailing.

“I didn’t mean to! This place is a crapshoot.”

“You say that when I let you into my home, I let your shotgun angel stay here?”

“I get it, I get it, I’ll pay for it, okay?”

They gabbed like a dad to a daughter, or maybe more like a disgruntled uncle to a turbulent niece. It juxtaposed the mysterious work-for-hire that made Pearl shiver, almost scared.

“Don’t be so hard on her. The blemish on her allows for a stronger vessel, you know she doesn’t know her strength sometimes,” grumbled a voice from in the office, stretching as he walked out.

This other man, dressed a lot like Noel, carried a hundred-meter stare in his October autumn eyes, voice deep and velvety and just a bit horrifying. Everything about him felt a little too put-together, especially with the two disasters he seemed to keep company with. As if he was born to wear a suit but hates it.

“She has a guest. Don’t embarrass her,” this too-put-together man said, pointing straight at Pearl, making Pearl squirm.

Then she realized why his gaze unsettled her. She turned, surprised to Noel, avoiding eye contact with the organized man.

“Oh of Cupid’s bows, why do you have an angel here? Why is he so easy to hide?” whispered Pearl as if that could make her unhearable, which she knew wouldn’t work but a girl could dream.

“Ortega doesn’t count anymore, don’t worry,” groaned Noel as if for the millionth time, “Stop focusing on those weirdoes – what will you give me in return?”

Pearl remembered why she was there.

“So, you’ll help me, then? With my, um…” Pearl stumbled, glancing at the two strangers in the room, “…situation?”

Noel’s eyes darkened, as if Pearl was truly making a deal with a devil, moving slowly towards Pearl, drawing shivers up Pearl’s spine, making her wonder if Noel’s tale was a lie.

“Depends on what you offer,” said Noel, “What do you think I am owed?”

She was prepared, though. For this pact. Clutching the amulet on her neck, Pearl, broke its chain, holding it out to Noel.

“I heard rumors of you looking for protection from heaven. This is a sliver of a maelstrom. From the Darker Days. I heard it hides a person from the eye of a beholder, so maybe this will help? I don’t know if it hides from heaven, but you can try it.”

She held it out for Noel, only to pull it away. Good. Pearl needed to feel some semblance of power in this agreement. Noel glared as Pearl placed the amulet in her dress’ pocket.

“You’ll get it once you find my brother. Before he does something he’ll regret,” said Pearl.

Noel sighed, nodding.

“That’s fair,” said Noel.

“Does that mean you need your shotgun angel? She’s still sleeping, last I checked,” echoed the still-messy maybe priest.

“Ugh, shut up, Iker. Nobody asked your opinion,” said Noel, stomping towards spiraling stairs behind them.

Pearl followed Noel, glancing over at the eyeing sort-of angel and possible priest.

“Hey, who are those two?” whispered Pearl, hesitant to get on the rickety spiraling staircase.

“Iker and Ortega? They own the chapel. Or run it. I don’t know how landowning works. They let Dru stay here, that’s all that matters,” said Noel, the stairs opening to a lofted room filled with soft pillows, fuzzy blankets, and a young woman sleeping, IV attached to her.

Noel crawled slowly to her, cautious. She touched the girl. Shook her a few times. No response. Pearl wasn’t sure what to make of this. What was happening. She wanted to ask, but she also didn’t want to be tangled in anything shady Noel might be doing. That was when she saw Noel clasping her hands to pray.

“Dru. It’s Noel. I hope you’re listening. I need you to come back, if you can. It’s your choice where you are. Don’t let them choose for you.”

And Noel just watched. Hopeful. Watching that breathing body before her. They snuck up from behind without Pearl even hearing them.

“You’re going to scare her, awakening that shotgun angel of yours,” growled Iker.

Noel glared at him.

“W-What’s a shotgun angel?” asked Pearl.

“Nephilim. A child of blood and bone and holy fury,” said Ortega, leaning a little too familiarly onto the strange almost-priest, “Their essence is tied inextricably to both the body birthed to the mortal coil and to the holiest plane, so their pith is shot from earth to heaven whenever those above call upon them.”

“But angels need hosts,” said Pearl.

“Not when they are half-mortal,” said Ortega, “A rarity, yes, but not unknown to be certain. And heaven, well…they like such soldiers in their garrisons.”

Noel kept her hands clasped, pulling Dru’s hand into her clutch.

“Come on, come on, come on. Didn’t you say you’d come when I call?” whispered Noel in a way that Pearl was sure she wasn’t supposed to hear.

And then it happened. A startle. A stop. A deep breath in, as if life dragged itself back into the body, dazzling topaz eyes lighting as her eyes opened wide, wider than they should. Noel’s hands flung up, cradling Dru’s face gently. Her hands smoked more – Pearl was sure it was probably her touching one most holy. Dru’s eyes fluttered, always on Noel.

“What are you doing?” said Dru, and it was if her voice was both raspy yet like a million relaxing wind chimes.

“Platonic face holding?” suggested Noel.

Dru smiled.

“You called, Noel?” asked Dru, her face still cradled.

“We got a job,” answered Noel, grinning.

[narkik]

title: operate

summary: stitches & souls & girls bleeding in love. meeting in urgent care will make for a good story somewhere down the line. [namikai]

warnings: brief, vague mentions of violence &/or injuries

a/n: surprise @lanternjawedstudmuffin​ -- i’m your @khsecretsanta​ this year! messaging you guys has been super cool this past month, and i’m very honored to be able to write for two authors who are clearly loved by the kh fandom. you both seem like awesome, talented people (side note: i read “introspective” & “break the chain” and really enjoyed both fics!). i hope this is to your liking, and merry christmas to you both! ❤

she’s pretty in split lips and silence, blonder than roxas and certainly more beautiful. kairi thinks she’ll never find someone so ethereal ever again, not even if she combed through the entire earth.

“i’m naminé,” says the injured girl, with nothing but softness in her smile. axel brought her into urgent care because her boyfriend bit her mouth away – marluxia’s love is sharp, naminé explains, before kairi applies disinfectant where his teeth broke her skin. marluxia’s twenty-seven, older more knowledgeable than she, so he kisses harder, that’s all. when kairi asks how old she is, naminé replies, “nineteen,” and kairi kind of wants to call the police.

“i hate that boyfriend of hers,” axel drawls in private, when naminé leaves for the restroom. “marluxia’s a real piece of work, y’know? acts all nice around everyone else, and yet naminé knocks on my door at eleven-forty-fucking-five at night, saying she doesn’t want to make a scene. so i told her i knew someone at the twenty-four hour urgent care downtown. but roxas was just about ready to kick his ass.” axel talks offhandedly, arms folded and green eyes distant, but kairi can hear his concern beneath the annoyance. they'd met through roxas a long time ago, and have been friends ever since; kairi can tell that the blonde girl with the bloody lips means more to axel than just a next-door neighbor.

once naminé’s done, axel volunteers to take her home, and goes to bring his car around. kairi has seven minutes left on her shift, but in that moment she is willing to abandon her post and drive this girl safely back to her campus dorm. after all, kairi’s technically only an intern, not yet a full-time nurse, and still a student at that. what did she have to lose? besides, it wasn’t like this was the emergency room.

“hey!” swiftly, kairi takes the lead, stopping axel mid-walk on the way down the hall. “i’ll do it.” when he waves a dismissive hand and tells her it’s fine, kairi tacks on “i’m a girl,” then watches his expression flood with understanding. not-so-discreetly, he glances behind them, where naminé is speaking to the front desk about medical coverage and co-pay. her gaze is cast downward, puffy lips pulled into a frown, even as she signs the last of the paperwork.

“you do it,” axel agrees, dropping his car keys back in his pocket. kairi grins, triumphant, before bidding naminé in her direction and informing the girl that there’d been a change in plans.

.

.

.

as expected, naminé’s quiet the entire drive home. kairi imagines that it hurts to talk with a cut running down the middle of one’s mouth.

“your boyfriend won’t be coming back around tonight, will he?” she tries to keep her tone casual, light, but there’s a hint of a warning between her words. “you’ll be safe, right?”

thankfully, naminé nods. “xion -- my rommate -- should be home in an hour. she doesn’t like marluxia.” a sigh. “she’ll like him even less now.” kairi doesn’t comment aloud, but she thinks that she likes xion already.

“i go here, too.” kairi changes the subject while driving into the campus residency’s parking lot. “but i commute. my apartment is about a half-hour away.”

naminé blinks, then offers a tiny smile. “really?”

“yeah. i’m getting my bachelor’s in nursing. you?”

“art major.” she doesn’t elaborate. kairi doesn’t push it.

a second or two later, naminé taps on the window and points to a nearby building. “right here is fine. you can just drop me off at the curb.” obediently, kairi pulls up, parking against the scarlet-spray painted sidewalk where she technically isn’t supposed to stop. naminé climbs out of the passenger seat, turning to poke her face back inside as soon as she's standing.

“thank you so much for the ride back. i really appreciate it.”

“you don’t want me to walk you up to your apartment?” disappointment tarnishes kairi’s voice. “it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

naminé shakes her blonde head. “it’s okay, don’t worry. i’d rather not make a big deal out of it. you get what i mean, right?”

actually, kairi doesn’t get what she means, but nods anyway, albeit a bit reluctantly.

after another round of thank you’s and good night’s, naminé shuts the car door and walks off. the stars are out tonight -- bright jewels sewn into a dark october evening -- and they glimmer around naminé’s form like a halo.

before she can think better of it, kairi rolls down the window and yells, “hey!”

instantly, naminé looks back, wide-eyed and pausing mid-step. kairi’s heart beats once, twice, before she blurts, “you know, you deserve better!”

with that, kairi rolls up the window and revs away, worrying about whether or not she’d said the right thing.

.

.

.

the next time naminé shows up to urgent care, she’s uninjured, and comes bearing a bouquet of flowers. it’s tuesday morning; kairi is in early today, because she doesn’t have class until the afternoon. when the receptionist – a pretty woman named aqua, who sported a brilliantly-blue bob to match – calls kairi out to the front desk, seeing naminé was the last thing she’d expected.

the roses are in full bloom and the color of crushed velvet. naminé says that dark pink roses mean ‘thankfulness’ in flower language – apparently, marluxia’s a botanist, so he knew about little things like that. suddenly kairi thinks that the arrangement loses some of its luster.

“anyways, sorry to bother you at work.” ruby stains naminé’s pearl-pale cheeks. the color almost matches the red-wine shade of kairi’s hair. her mouth -- which had been blood-dabbled not too long ago -- is scabbed over and the color of rust. “i didn’t have your number, or anything – ”

before kairi can fumble for a business card, or a pen, or simply babble out a string of numbers, the doctor on call – ‘vexen, ph.d’ his name tag reads – pushes into the waiting-room and snaps if kairi would please be so kind as to hurry it up. out of the corner of her gaze, kairi notices that aqua’s elegant mouth has twisted into a scowl.

embarrassment splinters naminé’s expression, darkening that ruby blush into garnet shame. all kairi can do is watch, stricken, as naminé stutters apologies the entire way out the door, feeling something like longing unspool in the pit of her stomach.

.

.

.

a week later, kairi meets naminé in the urgent care facility for the third time – though in this instance, blessedly, naminé is not the one in need of care.

“what were you thinking?” roxas is clearly upset, dirty-blond hair a mess, as he watches kairi tend the angry-looking burns on axel’s hands. axel starts to roll his eyes, but then kairi presses medicine against something that makes him wince and hiss out a curse.

“i wasn’t,” he finally grumbles, eyeing the roll of bandages beside him, “it was stupid of me.”

“fire is not just something you play with, axel.” roxas grimaces, not quite crying, but close enough. “you’re so stupid sometimes, did you know that?!”

this time, axel does manage to roll his eyes with infuriatingly axel-like precision – “yeah, yeah, love you, too.” – to which roxas makes kind of a choked noise that might have been a laugh under better circumstances. despite herself, kairi smiles.

“good thing your boyfriend was around to drive you here, axel,” she makes conversation while looping gauze around his palms, between his fingers, “otherwise you would’ve had to turn the steering wheel with your feet.”

axel gives a humorless snort, but roxas immediately perks up. “actually, naminé drove us here. remember her? blonde girl with the asshat boyfriend? she’s still here, too. she wasn’t in the waiting room when we came in because she had to find a place to park the car.”

at the sound of naminé’s name, kairi jerks her head up, wide-eyed. vaguely, she hears axel snicker, but excuses his transgression on the grounds of temporary insanity via the wounds he sustained from sticking his hands into a fire-pit.

“naminé’s here?”

smirking, axel jerks his spiky scarlet mane in the direction of the waiting room. “she said she’d be sitting out there until we were done. say...isn’t it time for your break? why don’t you pop out and say hi? i think i’ll stay here and rest my poor little hands for a bit.” a dramatic sigh. “i doubt i’ll be able to do much for a while, now. i ought to take a sick leave.”

“you’ll be fine,” kairi huffs, exasperated by axel’s theatrics, even as her feet march themselves neatly out the door.

.

.

.

she’s sitting pretty in scabs and silence, hands folded across her lap and legs crossed on one of the navy-cushioned chairs dispersed across the waiting room. kairi thinks she’ll never find someone so ethereal ever again, not even if she combed through the entire earth.

“naminé,” her name spills like stars off the tongue, and tastes just as sweet. “it’s...so nice to see you again!” remembering exactly where they were and why naminé was there in the first place, kairi flushes, then scrambles to save herself. nice going, kai.

much to her relief, naminé giggles; it’s a cute, tinkling laugh, full of dreams and charm. “it’s all right, i know what you mean. don’t worry.”

glancing around, kairi notes that the waiting room is empty, save for naminé and herself. she’s also fairly certain that aqua’s only pretending to be engrossed in typing something on her computer; for a second, kairi manages to catch her eye, and aqua gives her a knowing wink.

“how are the guys doing?”

“well, axel’s still a smart-ass, so he’s gonna be okay. roxas may or may not strangle axel when they get home, but aside from that, i think he’s okay too.”

another flash of pearly teeth. “i’m glad to hear that. both of them are great, really. i couldn’t have asked for better neighbors – this was the least i could do.”

quiet presses against them, muffled and slightly awkward. kairi isn’t quite sure where to go from here, but --

“i broke up with marluxia,” naminé blurts. at first, her face colors, seemingly embarrassed by the outburst; then suddenly she’s grinning, split lips and all. “so, i was wondering if you wanted to...go get coffee sometime? maybe? with me?”

and kairi laughs and smiles and thinks, there is a god after all.

.

.

.

it’s their third official date, and when naminé gets into the passenger seat, she asks if kairi notices anything different tonight.

“hold up, it’s kinda dark outside.” kairi clicks on the overhead light, illuminating the interior of her car a buttery-yellow before squinting at her date. “well, you look very pretty, but that’s nothing new.”

naminé giggles. “no, silly! my lip’s all healed up now. no scab or anything.” she scoots closer, pointing with an index finger. “see?”

instinctively, kairi leans over the armrest, genuinely curious. naminé is right -- there is no trace of lumpy skin or dry blood anywhere beneath the silky-pink gloss she wore on their nights out.

“it didn’t even scar or anything!” kairi observes, sounding more excited than she’d intended to. privately, she’s thrilled to see the last reminder of that biting-botanist-boyfriend gone forever, leaving naminé healed and healthy and happy -- which is exactly what naminé deserved all along.

“yeah, i know.” naminé lowers her finger. “you did a great job, nurse kairi.”

abruptly, kairi becomes very aware of just how close they are to one another. “i-i guess. i didn’t do anything...not really...”

all naminé manages is a tiny noise of disagreement before kairi’s lips are on hers, smudging away the satin-sheen gloss and hands tangled in soft hair.

.

.

.

sometime later in the evening (as naminé buries terrified squeaks into kairi’s shoulder during the horror movie special at the dollar theatre downtown) kairi can’t help but be impressed with the both of them. to keep meeting in a place full of hypodermic needles and sterile-white walls was hardly romantic for anyone; yet somehow, she and naminé had made do.

a/n: thank you guys so much for your patience! again, i apologize for being late, and it was very gracious of you to put up with the delay because of my illness. i hope the story was to your liking! happy holidays & best of luck in the new year! ❤