#shame we never get a good look at the exterior of the temple

[ladyinthebluebox]

DRAGON AGE INQUISITION SCENERY XVI/∞ >> The Lost Temple

[i-lionheart]

IT'S NOT A WIP ANYMORE BITCHES!!!!!

Ok so i wrote a fic that's basically this post by the-modern-typewriter but i took the concept and some main elements and rewrote it as a kylo ren self insert because of course i did i wanted a comfort fic and i refuse to apologize its not plagiarism i cited my sources k thx

anyways this is a Kylo ren x fem!reader (but the only time reader's gender is referenced as when they're referred to as "good girl" so make of that what you will). Angst, torture mention, self harm tw, suicide tw, depression tw, safe for work but implicit nudity. Also there's none of that "y/n" or (name) shit because I just personally hate it. I made this for me not you but it totally fukin slaps so read on at your own risk lmao

Tell Me Why

“You’ve been astonishingly resilient,” Ren said softly. “What a shame it has to come to this.”

His gaze roamed over you lazily, possessively, drinking in the sight of you. You were bound, gagged, and strapped down to an interrogation table. In his personal quarters, of all places.

You would trade every star in the galaxy to be anywhere but here.

Ren picked up a syringe full of clear, thick liquid off the tray of wicked-looking instruments that lay beside you and held it in front of your eyes. “I’m expect you’re quite familiar with this," he said, voice deceptively casual. "The resistance undoubtedly trained you to resist truth serum as insurance against the unthinkable. Obviously,” he said, indicating your current predicament, “They are fools.”

So it would be truth serum. You could handle this easily enough. All you had to do was tell him the truth, but not the one he was looking for. Simple.

Some miniscule change in your expression must have given your hubris away. Ren chuckled. “You poor thing.” he said. “Do you really think that we haven’t made… improvements on this since my grandfather held your precious General captive so long ago?”

You swallowed thickly, blood pounding through your temples as your breath caught in your throat. What could he possibly be talking about? Truth serum had been perfected in the days of Old Republic and hadn’t changed for centuries.

What advantage could he possibly hope to have?

Ren lowered his face until his eyes were level with yours. Though every fiber of your being screamed at you to look away, you met his gaze, trembling.

“You know as well as I do that the Old Republic, the Jedi, were weak. Fools,” he spat. “They were afraid to do what was truly necessary to meet their goals. The First Order has no such weaknesses.”

He lowered his mouth and whispered rapidly in your ear, his breath ghosting along your skin. “Unfortunately for you, I am not a Jedi, and this will hurt quite a bit. I only wish that I could remove that gag and hear every shriek that comes out of that pretty little mouth without risking you biting off your own tongue.” He clucked his tongue softly as he stood up. “What a shame.”

He replaced the syringe on the tray and selected a small pair of medical scissors, then began to methodically cut through the fabric of your sleeve. "I would apologize for the outfit," he said sardonically, "but I rather suspect that you have much bigger things to be worrying about at the moment."

Once your sleeve was split all the way to your elbow, Ren set the scissors down and set his leather-clad fingers to the task of spreading the halved fabric of your sleeve to fully reveal your bare skin. He was agonizingly gentle, as though trying to spread the petals of a struggling flower and help it bloom.

His work complete, his eyes and his fingers roved over your exposed arm, relishing your vulnerability. If you weren't paralyzed with fear, you would have squirmed, thrashed, done anything to flee his scrutiny.

Force, please, you thought desperately, don't let him see them. Please, anything but that. I'll give anything. Let him do what he wishes to me as long as they go unnoticed. Please.

As though sensing your frantic pleas, Ren's eyes locked onto your wrist, onto the unnaturally straight cuts and scars criss crossing your skin.

"What is this?" he said softly.

Shit.

It was the last straw. The spell of fear holding you in place broke. You twisted your arm as far as you could in the restraints, trying to hide what it was far too late to conceal. Instantly his hand shot out and pinned your wrist to the table as you writhed in his grasp.

"You know as well as I do that you cannot take back what has been revealed. The mynock is out of the bag, little one. Are you going to lie still, and let me finish what your own foolish actions have started? Or am I going to have to make you?"

Realizing it was of no use, that you were absolutely, utterly powerless, you stopped thrashing. Tears glistened on your cheeks. Your breath hitched as choked sobs pushed their way past your gag. You fought for every inhale and exhale, lungs crushed under the weight of your own rising panic.

But bewilderingly, inexorably, you were still.

"Good girl," he breathed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand from your wrist. When you remained motionless, even without his grip holding you to the table, his hands moved to your elbow and, abandoning those damn scissors, he began to finish what he had started.

He tore first one sleeve, then the other, and made short work of everything else until you were laid bare before him. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Kylo Ren's eyes roved over you, taking in every mark, every scar, every bruise on your bare skin. You wanted to fight it so badly, wanted twist yourself away from his agonizing scrutiny, but all you could do was shut your eyes and pray for it to be over. His burning gaze held you immobile like the galaxy's most powerful vice.

"I know what marks I've left on this body, little one," he said, voice unbearably tender. "I know what scars one gets from doing what we do. But this-" his fingers brushed your wrists, your thighs, your torso, tracing the bar code that you had marked yourself with in so many places- "this is not that." His voice, though still intolerably gentle, was taut, hinting at the tightly leashed rage that you could feel bubbling just below his deceptively calm exterior.

For so long, you had been terrified that someone would find out, would ask an unavoidable question, would see something they shouldn't have because you slipped up.

You hadn't expected it to be him.

What the hell was he going to do to you?

After another excruciating moment of consideration, he reached up and unbuckled the gag, carefully sliding it out from between your teeth and setting it on the tray beside the scissors and abandoned syringe. You worked your jaw, gratefully bringing a bit of relief to your sore muscles and parched mouth. You were so tired. So, so tired, too physically and psychologically exhausted to care what happened to you anymore. You had already been on this table for an eternity too long. Let him get what he wanted from you and finally, at long last, leave you for dead.

"What is it?" he asked evenly. "Control? Punishment? Or something else?"

Your eyes snapped open, wide with fear and shock, only to find your gaze locked together with his.

"What?" The word came out of your mouth in a grating, dry rasp.

"You heard me," he said. "Why do you do it?"

How dare he. How dare he. The absolute nerve he had, to strap you to a table you and torture you endlessly, and then find out about this and pretend that he cared.

"Fuck off," you said.

"That's no answer."

"You don't even care." You glanced away, eyes flooded with silent tears that you were too embarrassed about to let him see. "No one does."

You flinched as you felt a leather glove hand touch you, then realized that he was caressing your face. Stroking your hair. Comforting you, exactly where you needed it. Holding you like your mother did, so long ago. Touching you the way you had been starving for for so long.

How could he possibly know what you needed so desperately, much less be doing it of his own accord? What happened to him?

You finally mustered up the courage to look back at him, despite the blinding tears and your fear of what you might see. When you finally wrenched your gaze up to meet his, you were shocked by what you saw.

Pity. Concern. Genuine worry. Anger, not at you, but at the people who watched you spiral so far down and did nothing.

All this he told you with his eyes alone.

How was this possible? Stars' sake, he was your enemy. He hated you. So why was he looking at you like he was trying to offer you a lifeline when he was supposed to want you dead?

"Why are you doing this to me?" you whispered.

"Answer me," he said quietly, "And I'll stop."

You took a rattling breath in, and shut your eyes.

You had no choice.

"It's everything," you said softly. "The control. The punishment. All of it." You opened your eyes again and looked back at him as a sob built in your throat. "It keeps me alive, even though I don't deserve to be."

---

"It keeps me alive, even though I don't deserve to be."

The words hit Kylo like a dagger to the heart.

So that was why you had never acted on the desires he sensed in you, why you wanted to join him so badly but rejected his offers at every turn. That was why, when he offered you his hand, his teaching, his service, a position by his side, you almost took it before you wrenched yourself away. The Resistance never understood you, saw you as nothing more than a tool for a job. And you didn't think you deserved the what he could provide.

The sobs he had watched you struggle against for so long finally spilled past your lips in a tidal wave. He shushed you as one would a frightened animal, brushed away your tears with his thumb, and quickly undid the restraints at your ankles and wrist. He slid his arms under you and lifted you as easily as though you were a child, one arm under your legs to support your weight, the other pressing your head to his chest as you sobbed, the Force supporting you where he couldn't.

"Easy now," he said, voice low and soothing. "Easy, easy, easy- there we go, come on, come on, there's a good girl. I've got you. I've got you. You're safe now. You're safe. Good girl, come with me. Come with me, now."

He kept up the constant stream of reassurances as he carried you to his bed, holding you with one arm and the Force as he pulled back the covers with the other before setting you in the bed. He kicked off his boots and slid in beside you, pulling you close to his chest, telling you what you had needed to hear for so long.

You were going to be okay, he told you. He promised. Vowed to keep you by his side and give you everything he had to offer, fulfill your every need.

He'd give you the galaxy, if you asked for it. But all you needed was him.

The two of you stayed there until your sobs subsided, his hand absently stroking your hair, your tears soaking his shirt. Neither of you said anything, but you both knew.

You were finally where you belonged. And you were here to stay.

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Eighteen: The Night Before

AN: Get in losers, we’re going to Cuba.

Word Count: 3.0k

Trigger Warnings: none

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Nineteen: The Embargo Line

I had woken up early, as I always did. I loved watching the sunrise, the bright sun illuminated my room as I paced worriedly up and down my room. I had every right to be worried, there was the very real threat of possible war at hand. It also didn't help that I was running on three hours of sleep, at most I probably managed to get four hours of sleep. All in all, I'm a jittery mess right now.

"You keep pacing up and down, you'll put a hole in the floor," a voice quipped softly. I whirled around and saw Charles standing in the frame of the door looking dapper in his three piece suit, I didn't even hear the door open. "You're scared," he noted, still using the same tone.

"Of course I'm scared," I repeated almost incredulously, I walked over to the window. "Because what if we can't stop this? What if World War III is inevitable?" I stared out at the burning sun of the morning, overthinking.

Charles' footsteps came closer to me until he stood behind me, surrounding my waist with his left arm.

"Everything will be alright, love," he assured me with a smile.

"I hope you're right," I murmured softly, before I looked over my shoulder at Charles with a confused expression. "I don't understand, why are you being so kind to me? I...I betrayed you yesterday," I sighed, shaking my head.

"Because in some strange way I understand why you did it," Charles began, taking his free hand and pulling some of my hair behind my ear. "I know what kind of woman you are Claudia, you're kind and loving, but you hide behind an ice queen exterior because you’re afraid of what might happen if you opened yourself up to a man. You’re afraid of getting hurt again," he replied, as if the thoughts could not be contained and he just had to voice them.

Charles pulled me closer to him and placed a kiss on my temple before surrounding me with both of his arms.

"The night we first met I couldn't help but observe your behavior. You treated the men like playthings, for you, it’s better that way. Keep them at arm's length and you don't get hurt," he paused, as I slowly placed my hands on top of his. "You never said you loved me the night we danced in the library. You also avoided saying the word relationship the very next day," Charles recalled softly, and I felt a slight pang of sorrow hit me.

"I should've known that you would've observed that," I sighed in his arms, dropping my head down.

"You're afraid of being vulnerable, Claudia," Charles stated. "You're afraid that history will repeat itself. You're afraid of us failing, but I'll wait for you Claudia," he finished, pulling away and held my hand. "Come on, love, we have a long day in front of us," he said starting to walk out of the room.

Everyone met in the main foyer of the mansion, well everyone except Hank, he never appeared. Suspicious and concerned for Hank's abnormal absence we decided to go to his lab and look for him. Pinned to the wooden doors of the lab was a note written in black marker on a piece of paper that read, 'Gone to the airbase, bring the crate marked X - Hank'

Charles pulled off the note, and opened the door. Inside was a disaster. Shattered glass, broken furniture, and things strewn about. He began to make his way through the mess and we followed slowly behind him.

"What the hell happened here?" Erik asked, sounding slightly concerned. Partly for Hank's well-being, but mostly as to how he could have made such a mess. I couldn't blame him, I to was concerned as to how Hank had managed this.

Charles ignored him and headed to the crate marked 'X' and opened it, all of us peering inside, revealing a folded pile of navy blue and yellow suits.

"Hank has been busy," Erik commented, looking over Charles' shoulder.

I peered down at the suits, my nose slightly turned up in distaste, "God, this shade of yellow doesn't even suit me," I stated, earning a small chuckle from Erik.

"Do we really have to wear these?" Alex questioned, causing me to laugh softly.

Charles didn't look up from the crate, "As none of us are mutated to endure extreme G-force or being riddled with bullets, I suggest we suit up," Charles answered, with a hint of snarkiness.

Charles quickly distributed the suits and we all left the destroyed lab to go get changed into them. Raven, Moira, and I dressed in the ladies room. The suits were made of material that looked like, but wasn't quite leather. But it was surprisingly comfortable. Moira suit's was different, she wore a army green suit issued by good ol' Uncle Sam himself.

You know, it was very thoughtful of Hank to go out of his way to make these suits for the team, but he didn't really consider the possibility that the female body was slightly different to the male body. I almost broke a sweat trying to squeeze my hips and upper body into the leathery material. I looked around and could see Raven having the same problem. I left the room to see if the boys were finished getting dressed, only to see that Erik was the first person out. I tried not to stare, but Erik looked even more dangerously handsome.

The bastard.

Silently, I turned around and began to creep back into the room, I would of made it had I not stepped on a particular spot of the floor which let out a loud creak.

"Claudia?" Erik called, and my back stiffened.

I slowly turned on my heel and faced him, "Erik," I greeted, with a tight-lipped smile as I moved slightly closer to him.

"About last night-" he began.

"There's nothing to discuss," I interjected, glancing down at my hands to break his gaze. "I think the both of us made that very clear," I continued, lifting my eyes back to Erik and studying his face.

He looked a little tired and I guessed he had trouble sleeping, whether it was from our passionate kiss, argument, or possibly both I couldn't tell.

Erik sighed and just nodded his head, "Fine," he breathed out. "But Claudia, I want you to do something today not for me, but for yourself," Erik requested, taking a step forward.

"And what's that?" I asked curiously.

"Don't hold back today,"

~~~x~~~

After everybody was dressed we made our way to the airfield to find Hank. Once we reached the airbase, he was still nowhere to be found. What we did see, though, was a sleek and fast looking jet. I stared at the jet in front of me in awe. I knew Hank was a genius, but this was amazing.

"Where's Hank?" Raven asked, looking left and right for any sign of the missing scientist.

All of us turned to her not really sure how to answer her question when a voice echoed through the building.

"I'm here," a voice called out gravelly, walking towards us.

It came from right in front of us. In the blinding light from outside, a figure could be seen walking towards us. The figure looked to be taller and slightly bigger than a man. The outline got closer and it didn't look like a man quite as much anymore.

"Hank?" Charles asked, sounding puzzled.

"It didn't attack the cells, it enhanced them," Hank stated, looking down in shame. "It didn't work," he said with disappointment obviously in his voice.

Once he got closer, everyone gasped slightly. This didn't look like Hank at all. The 'man' that stood before us had a thick layer of electric blue fur covering his body. He had turned into some sort of animal. Although, Hank's signature glasses were the only thing that made him, well, Hank.

Raven reached out to him, "Yes, it did, Hank," she told him. "Don't you see? This is who you were meant to be. This is you," she caressed his cheek. "No more hiding,"

Erik cleared his throat, before he clapped his hand against Hank's shoulder, "Never looked better man," he commented foolishly.

I had to physically stop myself from slapping a hand to my forehead. Jesus Christ, Erik could be a downright idiot sometimes. Hank's hand swiftly found it's way to Erik's throat, choking him.

"Hank," Charles warned, stepping closer to him.

Hank ignored him and leaned closer towards Erik, glaring into his eyes, "Don't mock me," he growled, tightening his grip on Erik's neck.

"Hank, put him down immediately, please," Charles ordered. "Hank. Hank!" he pleaded some more.

From the looks of it, Hank wasn't letting go anytime soon and Erik's face began to turn a nasty shade of purple. As much as he probably deserved it, this needed to be stopped. I stepped forward from beside Charles and placed a hand on Hank's shoulder.

I spoke calmly, "Hank, let him go," Hank let go and Erik dropped to his knees.

Erik looked up at Hank, his voice was raspy, "I wasn't," he breathed out, and I leaned down to help Erik up.

"Are you all right?" I asked, and he just nodded.

Erik rubbed his throat, "Better now," he answered quietly just for my ears to hear.

I rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head slightly as a small smile crept on my lips.

"Even I got to admit you look pretty badass," Alex began, interrupting our side conservation. "I think I got a new name for you, Beast," Alex announced proudly, and Hank gave a growl.

"You're sure you can fly this thing?" Sean asked looking at Hank, then back at the jet.

Hank might have looked like a beast, but at the mention of the jet he was normal, geeky Hank again, "Of course I can. I designed it," he answered, and gave him a smug smile before making his way towards the jet, all of us following behind him.

~~~x~~~

We raced over the fleet of ships on the edge of Cuba with Hank in the captain's seat, Moira on the communications controls and the rest of us lined up in the seats on the sides. All of us harnessed in.

Everyone was dead silent in the jet. I could feel the fear and adrenaline from everyone. It was overwhelming, truth be told. I felt like I was going to be sick and that I was going to vomit. Each and every person were thinking of ways this mission could turn south, if we didn't make it better. If we don't pull this off, WWIII could start and everyone would die. This was something everyone and myself couldn't help but think this way.

"It looks pretty messy down there," Hank mumbled as he flew the jet around the Embargo Line.

Looking over at Charles, I watched as he raised his finger to his temple, searching for where we would find Shaw.

Charles' eyes snapped open, "The crew of the Aral Sea are all dead. Shaw's been there," he informed.

Erik leaned up in his seat and gripped the sides, "He's still here, somewhere," he insisted.

He was mad. And frustrated.

"He's set the ship on course for the embargo line!" Charles exclaimed, turning to Moira.

"That ship crosses the line; our boys are going to blow it up. And the war begins," she replied worriedly.

"And Shaw wins," I stated grimly.

"Unless they're not our boys," Charles reasoned, and we all looked to him questioningly.

I watched as he raised his finger to his temple again, screwing his face up in concentration. Moments later, chaos surrounded us. A blaring alarm went off before Hank jerked the plane into a roll trying to avoid something that was obviously come straight towards us.

"Hold on!" Charles' warning coming a bit too late.

Hank gave a snarl as tried to adjust the plane. I screamed in panic along with everybody else and felt Alex grip my arm and quickly flipped my hand around grabbed his hand as the jet went totally upside down and then finally righted as I just caught the cargo ship exploding out the window.

"A little warning next time Professor," Hank spoke back as I struggled to take a couple deep breaths.

"Sorry about that," He apologized sounding slightly embarrassed, and looked over to Raven, who had screamed right along with me. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Both she and Sean responded, but it was Sean who looked the most shaken up as he drew in a slow breath.

"You alright?" Alex asked, looking at me.

I breathed deeply once more, moving my hair out of my face, "Never been better," I quipped breathlessly.

Everyone caught their breath, "That was inspired Charles," Moira complimented dryly, while flipping some switches in front of her.

"Thank you very much, but I still can't locate Shaw," he mumbled, still holding his fingers to his temple.

"He probably wearing that helmet of his," I spoke up, gathering Charles attention.

"Then that's going to cause us a big problem," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Erik was becoming increasingly angry and frustrated, "He's down there. We need to find him now!" he urged.

"Hank?" Charles called, looking to their pilot.

"Is there anything unusual on the radar or scanners?" Hank asked Moira.

Moira took a second to respond, "No, nothing," she answered, shaking her head.

Hank was exasperated, "Well then he must be underwater," he said begrudgingly. "And obviously we don't have sonar," he continued grumbling.

"Yes we do," Sean looked determined and confident, not cocky, not like the usual Sean.

I looked over with a small smile, getting his point.

"Yes we do," Charles repeated, with renewed vigor as he quickly pulled off his headset and started to undo his harness with Erik while Sean was already moved across to the hatch by the handles in the top. "Hank, level the bloody plane," Charles shouted as he and Erik tried to move across the tilted floor, same as Sean had been doing. I felt the whoop in my stomach as he did finally allowing them to walk.

Sean looked alarmed as Erik got closer, "Whoa," he called as he turned around and saw Erik moving to cross the hatch to stand on the same side as Charles and him. "You back right off," he demanded, probably having flashbacks about his second flying lesson where Erik had shoved him off the satellite. I let out a smile and with a small chuckle, Erik raised his hands and took a step back. Sean looked to Hank.

"Beast! Open the Bombay doors!" he called up.

With wide eyes I watched as the doors opened, filling the cabin with roaring wind and could only see Charles yelling at Sean, trying to lecture him before he dropped out of the plane not before giving him a pat on the back and he took a step back. Sean positioned himself at the doors and it was then as I looked to Charles' mouth that I could see him counting down before Sean jumped out with a shout. With Hank closing the doors all of us looked to Charles while Moira warned the other ships.

Moira talked into the radio, "Alert the fleet, they may want to take their cans off,"

There was a tense silence and the only noise I could hear was the engine and the wind. Charles yelled, "Banshee's got a location on Shaw!" He turned to look at Erik. "You ready for this?" He asked Erik.

"Let's find out," he nodded and gripped onto the side of the plane as Charles relayed the information to Hank who flipped around the jet. Then slowing down he lowered the jets landing gear with Erik on one of the wheels.

A moment or two passed in silence until I could hear a rumbling sound emerging from the water. It was muffled for quite some time, until it got louder and louder. I looked out the windows and my widened my eyes in amazement, right before my eyes was Shaw's submarine floating in the air. Hank, pushed forward, making us go a little faster and higher taking it out of my view, but when Charles lunged forward I knew that something was wrong.

I felt a sudden sense of dread coming from both Charles and Erik. Something was going wrong. Very, very wrong.

Charles was desperate and I could hear him as yelled for Erik, "Erik, take my hand!"

"Hold on guys, it's gonna get bumpy!" Hank called over the headset.

It was then we all looked forward and saw it was a tornado. Like what happened at the CIA base. Only this time we were on a plane, nothing good could come of this. Quickly, I clamped my eyes shut and worked on taking a deep breath as I felt a familiar energy around my hands and then quickly pushed it around us, making my largest force field ever. Instantly the plane leveled out, but the whirlwind on the outside was eager to get in.

"I can't hold it for long!" I called, my hands beginning to shake. "Get Erik's ass in here now!" I yelled, trying to keep my hands steady.

"Erik, take my hand!" Charles shouted as it started to flicker and the jet bumped a little to the side, jolting us all and knocked my concentration a little more.

"Breathe," Alex spoke from my other side as I felt Hank jolt forward, trying to get out of the storm and it only seemed to fight back. Groaning, I felt the strain and gritted my teeth as it flickered again and we jolted.

"Let it go!" Charles shouted and I took it that Erik was inside and without warning I released the force field, sending us into a spiral.

I flicked open my eyes just as Erik pounced in Charles, pinning him to the ground like a high powered magnet as we crashed to the ground with the sound of screeching metal. The last thing I remembered, before blacking out, was seeing the plane crash onto the beach.

Chapter Twenty: The Cuban Missile Crisis

[producingtrashycontent]

who are your favorite top ten black clover characters & ships? talk about them! ~tat

Ooh this will be fun. I'm not sure I'll have as much to say as some other people who have been asked this question, but I hope it's ok!

Top 10 Black Clover Characters

1. Mereoleona Vermillion

I could rant for hours about how much I love this woman. She's very strong and doesn't give a damn about status, which I love about her. Like almost all the females in Black Clover, she isn't overly sexualized or dependent on a man in some way. I love her character design, her magic, and everything. I think I'm a little obsessed with this woman honestly.

2. Noelle Silva

A typical female shonen character that's part of the main guy's harem. What I love about Noelle is her development. She goes from a royal who hates commoners to a strong female lead that accepts anyone for who they are. I haven't watched all the anime in the world, but from what I've seen, she's gotten the best development of any shonen female. If there's another one out there, please let me know. I love that Noelle's character development isn't over. I can't wait to see where she ends up by the end of the series.

3. Asta

Our gray-clad hero. A typical shonen protagonist with a never give up mentality. I really love that about Asta. Asta's mental strength is off the charts. He was able to dealing with people bullying him his entire life over something he had no control over. And yet, he continues pushing onward to change the dynamics of the Clover Kingdom. What a brave boy. Of course, with mental strength like that, it makes sense his brain can't keep up in other areas. I love how much of a simpleton Asta can be. It makes him more endearing. Asta's character even inspires me to push past my own limits and never give up on my dreams.

4. William Vangeance

A sweet, quiet man with a deadly secret. I love his origin story and how it has affected his life to this day. The main thing I love is how complex his character becomes. From a top captain to a man struggling living with another soul in his body that defies the ideals and people he believes in, William is complex. I couldn't imagine living with another soul in my body for about 15ish years. Dealing with this all alone without going insane marks William as another mentally strong character. Choosing between the mentor that saved you and gave you a new life and the best friend who's shared your body for longer than you've know your mentor must be a very difficult decision to make. I'm not surprised William wasn't able to choose between them. I hope both William and Patry get a good redemption arc.

5. Finral Roulacase

A typical playboy character. He's cute, funny, and relatable. I tend not to like playboy characters, but Finral is different. He believes all women should be worshipped and treated like princesses, and he actually has a backstory. Having a sibling who is better than you in all ways reminds me of Zuko and Azula from Avatar. Despite dealing with his parents disappointment and his sibling's sneering his whole life, Finral never turned evil or tried to get revenge. At first, he ran from his problems, but with the help of the Black Bulls, he conquered his fears and grows stronger each day. I really love this boy.

6. Nozel Silva

LOOKS AT HIM HE'S SO FUCKING CUTE DJJSJDJAJJS! Ok rant over. As a royal, I never expected Nozel to have a reason for treating Noelle the way he did. Granted, I don't approve of it at all, but I love that he's working to change. He's also very stoic and strong. Nozel has a cold exterior that can be broken over time. That's what Asta did to this Silver Eagle. Now, Nozel is rivals with 2 commoners. I love that he's changing to be better with Noelle. I can't surroort how he treated Noelle before, but I love that he's working to change his relationship with her. Also, his braid is so majestic. I had a dream and the whole dream was me staring at Nozel's majestic braid flowing in the breeze. I love this handsome man.

7. Yami Sukehiro

This man. Thiiiiis man. He is glorious. He's funny, smart, grumpy, and strong. I love him for all the reasons everyone else does. The main thing I love about Yami is the vibe he gives off. When I see Yami, I see a shonen protagonist who has completed their journey and gives advice to the newest generation of protagonists. He's such a well-rounded character. I would live a spin-off series of Yami's adventures when he was young. That would really sell.

8. Fuegoleon/Leopold Vermillion

THEY'RE BOTH SO PRECIOUS

Fuegoleon: I love this man. Such an inspiration. Just like his other siblings, he doesn't care about status. My favourite line if his is: "There isn't any shame is being weak. The shame is in staying weak." This line can really apply to anything in life. He also inspires me to do better.

Leopold: BABY. Ahem. I love his spunky personality. He's makes me think of Asta had he been born into a royal family. I love that, even though he's a royal, he has his own issues to deal with: making his own way in life and not having to live in his siblings' shadow. He's just a precious bean that requires protection.

9. Klaus Lunettes/Julius Novachrono

I RAN OUT OF PIC SPACE

Anyway, I love these boys. So good.

Klaus: Mom friends are the best kind of friends. I love that he changed because he witnessed Asta and Yuno's abilities and decided these boys were strong. They weren't cheating in any way. He was the first noble to change his ways and believe is Asta and Yuno, and I really love him for that.

Julius: A man working to change his country. We love that. I love that Julius is working towards a country where everyone tears each other as equals. That's a hard task to take on, yet Julius didn't hesitate and took the challenge head-on. Also he's hot...

10. Dorothy Unsworth/Yuno

I love these babies so much.

Dorothy: Hot, short, and powerful. My spirit animal. She's hella strong and shows us that you don't need to be a big strong man to be a powerful leader. Also, she sleeps a lot, which is something I desire more of in life.

Yuno: UwU baby. Hot, strong, and stoic. What more do you need? I love his HEALTHY rivalry with Asta. It's such a joy to watch him grow side-by-side with Asta. I love him so much that I'm not even sure who I want to become the Wizard King in the end. Can we have them both be Wizard Kings?

I don't have a top 10 list of ships, but I do have ships. I'll just talk about them in no particular order.

Mereoleona x William

I love this ship because opposites attract. But if someone tells me they ship William and Patry, I'm not going to argue. Overall, this ship would make both these characters even better than they are now.

Dorothy x Nozel

I get Hinata/Kageyama vibes from this ship. A small, eager baby with a tall, stoic and distant partner. The main reason I ship this is because of the fact that Dorothy knows about what happened to Acier. Nozel wouldn't tell just anyone about that. He must trust Dorothy a huge amount for her to know that information. A royal wouldn't share his darkest family secret with a lavender-haired witch from another country. Also, after the time skip, they both changed a part of their outfits for feathers of the bird corresponding their squad. They got feathers together!

Finral x Vanessa

After the seabed temple arc, I shipped these two. They have such a wholesome relationship that makes them better people. They're so cute together! What else can I say?

Asta x Noelle

I love how much they help each other become better. Asta is doesn't realize it yet, but he cares about Noelle more than he realizes. Noelle fell for Asta because he was the first person to ever say anything good about her magic. I just love these two. They're so cute!

Yami x Charlotte

I get the same vibes from this as I get from Asta x Noelle. A tsundere and an oblivious protagonist. I love this ship for the same reasons as Asta x Noelle. I won't repeat what I said before, so read the reasoning for Asta x Noelle. I love these two as well!

Grey x Gauche

I love the reasoning for Grey loving Gauche. I totally see Gauche being as protective of Grey as he is with Marie. Grey might help Gauche loosen up a bit with Marie. These two are just really cute, ok.

I can't think of any more ships, but yeah. Those are my favourite black clover characters and my favourite ships.

[damnusillygoose]

Jerza fanfiction

disclaimer: these characters belong to hiro sensei

title: Somebody is jealous

summary: will erza be able to maintain her calm when her beau starts getting a lot of female attention?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13786166/1/somebody-is-jealous

Erza was a jealous woman.

She wasn't insecure in her relationship with Jellal by any means, not that she had to vie for his attention. He gave it to her willingly. He made her feel loved, so much that she was practically brimming with it. He showed her his affection not only through words but also through his actions.

But that didn't mean she couldn't get jealous.

Jellal's popularity proliferated after he settled in magnolia and started indulging himself with voluntary service. Crime sorciere might be officially disbanded but the former members having spent ample amount of time with each other wanted to continue working together and take missions. They also diverted their funds to start an orphanage for abandoned children.

Their pious efforts were recognized and soon they started receiving all sorts of grants from public and from private companies in the form of corporate social responsibility. As the grand master of crime sorciere, Jellal was often called upon by organizations for collaborations and for interviews to further elaborate upon the work done by his guild.

Erza couldn't be happier for him but the limelight he received also turned out to be slightly infernal for her. Jellal became instantly well-known and even topped the charts of 'The Most Handsome Man Alive', dethroning Hibiki Lates who took pride upon himself for holding this position for 3 years plus.

She lost the counts of love letters that Jellal started receiving from his female following. Whenever they would go out to spend time with each other, there would always be eyes hawking him or pestering him for autographs. Erza really wanted to maintain her demeanor as a good girlfriend who doesn't get jealous when her partner gets excessive attention from the opposite gender but there had to be a limit right?

However, Erza was grateful for a fact that there was never a reciprocation from his end. Jellal never returned their efforts. He never bothered.

He was staunch in his belief and was firmly loyal to her.

The realization made her feel extremely loved.

'Stop brooding Erza, you look hideous.' Mirajane snapped Erza out of her murderous intent as she reached across the table enamored with mahogany wood to collect empty glasses.

'Mira! that reporter bitch is all over him again! Can I murder her?! '

'Calm down Erza. She is here for her job after all.'

'Her job is to interview and ask him substantial questions! Not throw herself all over him! He is clearly uncomfortable with her vexing advances. Is she blind or what?!' she roared as her fist slammed against the table top nearly knocking off the glasses in the tray.

Her abrupt yet fierce declaration was enough to scare Natsu and Gray who were once again at each other's throats. She was seething with anger and gritted her teeth with helplessness. She wanted to jump in and slap the day lights out of that abhorrent creature but she wouldn't dare disturb Jellal's interview. Fairy tail has a reputation to maintain anyways. Not that they had a respectable reputation to begin with but she wouldn't embarrass her guild any further.

Erza witnessed as that female reporter proceeded to smirk smugly at her paramour and leaned forward on the pretext of not being able to hear his answer owing to uproarious energy of the guild.

Jellal leaned back as his company continued to disrespect his personal space relentlessly.

'Mr. Fernandez, I think it's equally disturbing to interview you here. How about we move to my private chamber? No one would interrupt us there and we can take all the time we want', the female reporter purred and twisted her lips in a vicious smirk, touching the top of his hand.

'No, thank you. I can't afford that. My girlfriend is waiting for me. Let's wrap this up quickly', Jellal repudiated, pulling his hand aside, rejecting her advances in a disapproving grunt.

That's it! Erza stood up from her seat as she saw that wretched bitch lean towards him, churning with incorrigible wrath. Her emotional turmoil had successfully won over her and she was ready to slice that bitch into pieces. But before she could do anything, she saw her beau lightly bow his head towards his female companion displaying the dismissal of their conversation.

She inhaled a breath of relief as he walked towards her and took a seat beside her. His eyes looked genuinely tired and he rubbed his temples in exasperation.

Her anger melted into concern.

'Are you okay, Jellal? Was she pestering you a lot?' she asked empathetically.

'Yes, I am fine. I am glad it's over', he took her hand in his and entwined them firmly.

He gave her a worn-out smile as he requested Mira to bring him a drink.

'that bitch.' Erza cursed as she weaved her free arm to loop around his bicep. She rested her head against his shoulder and let out a sigh.

'I am fine, Erza. Seriously, Let's eat something and then we can head back home'

'I know you are saying this to put me at ease but we aren't heading back home Jellal. That bitch's presence will not ruin the party for us. We will enjoy till the very end'

Just when they thought the trouble was over, that female reporter strode unapologetically into their love nest.

'I am sorry to barge into your conversation but is it okay if I sit here? I am not familiar with anyone here and I only know Mr. Fernandez so...?'

Jellal clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked at Erza to check her reaction only to find her extremely calm and collected. However, He knew that her exterior appearance was a façade. She was probably singeing internally hotter than any inferno.

'sure', Erza replied in her imperturbable composure, her wrath at the brim of her limit, ready to walk over the barbwire at any moment.

Lucy and Cana marveled at the guts of this prying female as they witnessed this scene from the next table.

'So, how long you two been together?'

'I didn't know there was another interview?', Erza eyed her as she retorted sharply.

'nah, I am just curious about you two. You are a well-known couple in magnolia after all. Everyone looks up to you guys for couple goals.'

'About six months', Erza replied unsure whether this person was genuinely intrigued or mocking them half-heartedly.

'Ah. From what I have heard this is the first ever relationship for both of you, right? Six months isn't even a long time to know your partner intimately. People break up over minute scuffles all the time. Anyways, Mr. Fernandes, a handsome man like yourself must find himself flocked with female attention all the time, no? I don't think you should settle yourself in a relationship this early- '

This fucking bitch is going to breath her last breathe today! there is no way I am letting her out alive! Erza bellowed internally. How dare she insult her relationship like this?! This jerk continued to spew bullshit even when she was kind enough to overlook her advances towards Jellal earlier! How dare she-

'Ms. Erina, we don't recall asking for your unsolicited advice on our relationship. This is our private matter and we do not appreciate third party interferences. Your job was to interview me on professional basis and I can very well report back to your organization regarding your unethical behaviour. This can cost you your career and you know that', Jellal shot her down with his sharp retort. He took hold of Erza's hand in his, underneath the table, in a reassuring manner.

'but I was just kidding around- '

'We don't appreciate this degraded sense of humor. It was disrespectful and you were clearly trying to jeopardize my relationship', Jellal, when triggered, had no mercy for people who undermined his relationship with Erza.

'You've crossed the limits of my personal space and I ask you to leave'

His refute left Erina stunned. She had successfully seduced countless men in their so-called committed relationships but Jellal Fernandez was one such man she was unable to surmount no matter how many cheap tricks she pulled. Admitting her inevitable defeat, she stood up in shame, trembling with anger for he insulted her blatantly, dragged her feet across the guild hall, colliding with Kinana on her way, almost knocking off the drinks in her tray ,had Erik not intervened preventing her fall. He let out a muffled snare at the vile woman who passed by him. .

Jellal finally let out an audible sigh and looked at Erza.

'sorry, my love. You had to witness this', Jellal whispered anxiously. He moved his hand to fondle her inner thigh intimately in way he knew would calm her trembling down.

Erza had a wide smile that adorned her lips. She wasn't angry now. In fact, she was extremely satisfied the way Jellal shot her down. The respect and adoration he held for her was oozing out of every word he spoke. She loved him so much. Her ears felt warm as she snuggled into his shoulder.

'thank you Jellal. I am fine. I am not bothered by her ignorant remarks. She has no clue about what we both went through to stand where we are today and frankly I don't care', Erza stated, referring to their past history.

'if it doesn't bother you, it doesn't bother me as well', Jellal smiled as he leaned down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss and then traced his soft lips against her jawline, giving her a peck on her cheeks.

Laxus looked at his buddy from the second floor, impressed, for he handled the situation very maturely.

'sheesh, that's a slick move Fernandes'

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review if you liked it. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

They Realise They Love You

Risotto Nero

When he realises that he loves you, he’d be stunned - like - no, love isn’t something he should be able to feel, nor should he allow himself something like that.

I mean?

He’s a villain?

The Boss is after him, he could die at any moment, so having a proper love life wouldn’t be something he could have...Right?

But he can’t help how the wheels of fate turn, and now he just sits in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking over and over at his crush.

Her hair looked so nicely today, shining under the Sun. He only wishes he could have played with it.

The smile you had that day, admiring some random flowers. He only wishes he could have picked them up and gifted them to you.

The playful spark in your e/c eyes that shined like gems. He only wishes you’d look at him with the same spark.

Risotto was head over heels with you, with the little things that made you - You.

The problem was that he had no idea how to act on it without endangering you somehow.

You were too good for him, and an Angel like you shouldn’t be around a Devil like him...

But despite what his conscience preaches him all the time, he won’t be able to stop himself from spending more time around you, even though he’d be too awkward to actually say something, until you begin the conversation.

As well as that, he’d leave cute little gifts at your doorstep, signing them as “Metallica”, letting you know that he’s always thinking of you, and at least until he sets his mind straight to actually ask you out, he will continue with the little gestures.

Also, he loves kissing your temple - Gods, he feels like a school boy with an innocent crush on that cute and kind girl in his class, but he can’t help it!

---

Bruno Buccellati

This soft mum isn’t a stranger to love, but even so, at first, he was sure that he loved you just as much as he loves his team mates - Like a family.

Problem is, sure, he loved you like family, only if he was the Dad and you were the Mum in this Family.

It took a bit of nudging from Abbacchio for him to actually realise and act accordingly to his true feelings, but it’s sure to say he didn’t regret it.

While yes, he is the Capo and he has a lot of responsibilities, both with his team, the organisation and within the city, he will always make sure to have spare time for you, to spend quality time together, to take you out on a nice date and so on.

A nice date doesn’t have to mean something fancy, but it can range from a walk on the sandy beach, hand in hand, barefoot, while playing in the water, a cute dinner at the restaurant he’s always at, cuddling together while watching a movie, or even being the best parents and taking care of the Kids...Uhm, his Team, I mean.

If there’s one thing he absolutely adores to do, it’s to hug you while you read together - It’s one way to actually be able to de-stress and put away all the Gang-Star problems, and truly be with you, heart, mind and soul.

He would also love to take you to places with beautiful landscapes and take tons of pictures of you, or both of you together, that he would later develop and either frame, or put in very cute couple albums.

--- Giorno Giovanna

Giorno is the most innocent one out of these guys, and while yes, he knows that he has a crush, he’s also pretty shy in acting towards his feelings.

He can feel his heart racing around you like never before, and his face gets a tint rosier, despite how composed he is, there will still be tints of obvious flustering that Bruno and Abbacchio always seem to catch faster than anyone else.

Abbacchio is always more staright-forward, but Bruno actually pulls Giorno aside and gives him some nice tips and advice on how to deal with everything, and thankfully enough, it’s actually helpful.

Something he loves to do is create flowers with Gold Experience and give them to you, when you least expect.

Bonus points if you let him put the flower in his hair, he will outright melt.

When you’re on a date, he will make sure to create cute and colourful butterflies and dragonflies to go around you, making you look like one of those Disney Princesses, because for him, you truly are a Princess.

He’s attracted to you like flowers are attracted to sunlight - He feels like you make him grow and become a better person, and seeing how sweet and kind you are...Damn, you’re killing him.

If you want and like it, Giorno will let you play with his hair, so have fun. Braid it, brush it, stroke it, do little tails, whatever, as long as you don’t pull too hard and you’re smiling, it’s all fine for him.

But that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t want to play with your hair too.

--- Abbacchio Leone

Oh boy, oh boy - 

This guy loves his tough exterior and would never ever EVER let anyone in.

Ha, what a joke.

There’s already his whole team in his heart, why would caring for another person be bad?

He wants to appear tough and in control of the situation, but once he has a crush, he’s an outright mess.

He will be the embodiment of Windows Shutdown, along with the generic sound playing in the background.

His heart is so soft and damaged, he’s honestly afraid that it will break more and will have no way to mend it even by a little bit.

But perhaps, having you by his side, wouldn’t be too bad.

Honestly, if you praise him, you can literally see  ‘Abbacchio.exe  stopped working’  written on his forehead, because he will go mind-blank and have no idea how to react.

His team mates will make so much fun of him, but he’ll be lost in his own world, trying to decipher your intentions and words, if they were genuine or not.

All it takes is for you to have him alone one night and hug him tightly, praising him, and he will break down.

If he allowed himself to break down like that, than definitely he sees something in you.

From then on, he will let you listen to music with him, will make you personalised mixtapes for different occasions.

He won’t say it, but he loves having his arm around you when going out. It makes him feel like he won’t lose you like he lost his partner a while ago, and that you are safe with him.

--- Kishibe Rohan

This guy is pretty obvious when he falls in love, since he has no inhibitions nor shame or shyness, so it’s the easiest for him to get to confess.

Of course, he has to be a smug bastard and keep things slow, to have more effect and be more romantic.

He IS a manga artist after all, so things have to be nice, right~?

Rohan would invite you over for tea very often, just chilling together and nobody to annoy you.

Well, apart from Koichi who would randomly stumble in Kishibe’s home and would find you two chatting casually, laughing and smiling at each other.

Rohan would take you out on dates as often as possible, under the pretext that he wants to find inspiration for his manga, but it’s pretty obvious that he just wants to spend time with you.

He will kiss your face a lotttt, especially your nose and forehead since he thinks you make the cutest expressions when he does so.

Also, your giggles are so cute, he just can’t help himself not to vibe.

He will invite you to dance nights a lot, just to have an excuse to walk with you at night, when nobody could bother you, and just enjoy each other’s presence while also being able to admire the stars.

--- Kakyoin Noriaki

This boy is rather shy, compared to everyone else, so while he won’t be so upfront with his crush on you, he will definitely want to find pretexts to spend time with you.

When bored, he would stand under a tree, relaxing, watching the clouds pass by, and when he feels THE vibe, he would whip out his notebook and would smile as he sketches you absent-minded.

He would be so attracted to your kindness and your nurturing personality, that he would find himself gravitating around you without even wanting to (but he definitely does want to).

Since he’s a bit shy, I could imagine him slipping cute little letters in your locker and just chatting through letters with you that way, until he feels brave enough to actually have a proper conversation with you without feeling awkward.

Kakyoin is a huge gamer, so if you’d like to watch him play, or more, if you wanted to play with him, his heart would burst from happiness like never before.

If you didn’t know how to play, he’d be incredibly patient and would teach you every little trick in the game.

If you do know how to play, however, he’d make sure to choose only co-op games because he’s not actually that competitive and he wouldn’t want either of you to feel bad if you or him lost.

If you, by any chance possible, decide to wear something with cherry themes, like a shirt with cherries, a hair clip, a necklace, or even better, matching earrings with him, he’d honestly die, like damn, that’s my girl, we are now Cherry Boy and Cherry Girl.

He’d be so loving and would dote on you a hella lot, just because he loves you so much and wants you to be happy no matter what.

[flatfootmonster]

(I have been in a writing funk so I wanted to put some stuff that I've been writing out there so ya'll know I'm fucken trying...)

Skin

Every notion I hold that brings some imagined form of embarrassment he bypasses. Even in this, in our skin. He’s seen me bare, ran a cloth over every part of me without having any effect on his stoic exterior. Strong arms held me, calm words soothed—and I let them. Mostly I’m unfazed by our bareness if I don’t dwell on it. 

My feet have grown complacent with the foundation that we’re discovering. breathing easily as we lay here—sheets, towels, and skin. It’s quiet for once. Seconds and minutes seem to sparkle like dust in the evening light. We could be anywhere, as long as we are like this there’s peace and contentment. 

It’s just us. 

I’m getting used to this and I know that’s dangerous, but my grip seems to have loosed on control. I stopped fighting the tide. 

Rolling onto my side, facing him, I close my eyes. I want to capture this moment and the white of the sheets that seem to be a surrender. His gaze rests on me, warm like the long fingers of sunlight as they reach across the floorboards. There’s a gentle huff of laughter before the book he was reading is placed on the floor, his glasses clink as they follow suit. Then he shifts. I know without looking that he’s mirroring me and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. 

“Are you tired?” 

“No, just resting.” 

He hums, deliberating. “Do you want me to go?” 

“No.” My response is Instant. It wasn’t really a question that needed to be asked. Surely?

There’s a long pause, like he’s hesitating over which direction to take. Before words arrive, his fingertips brush gently across my forehead, before tracing along my temple and sweeping behind my ear—pushing hair from my face. My breath deepens, an uncontrollable reaction to the touch. 

“I thought sometimes that I’d made it up,” he says quietly. His hand drops to the sheets but not before fingertips skim along my jaw so lightly that it could have been an accident. 

I don’t know what’s different. He’s already undressed, bathed and towel-dried me and his hands are always gentle. Yet there was no intent behind his touch except care. In that barest touch I can feel something different. Perhaps I’m projecting but it almost feels like need; touching me for his own sake as well as mine.

Mouth dry, I don't want to open my eyes—let alone speak—in case this spell winks out. I could have it all wrong. “Made what up?” My voice is rougher than before and for no good reason. 

“How everything feels with you.” I do look now, but his gaze searches me as his fingers had. “I could never work out what it was. Whether you were this angel that had no urges,” he grins, amused at his own humour, “or whether whatever it was you felt with me, it was enough—intimate enough—that you didn’t need more. Even if maybe you wanted more. But whatever it was being with you has always been different from anything else.” 

I’m not sure if he wants me to specify who I am, or how I feel, but the heat rushing up my chest and into my cheeks is probably enough to answer. “I just wanted to keep you safe.” That’s my roundabout way of answering appearing once more. But it’s true. 

“So, a sexless angel it is?” He teases.

I snort, rolling my eyes before holding his gaze. “No. I jerk off like everyone else,” I state in defense, jaw firming stubbornly as he laughs. 

“You do? I find that hard to imagine.”

“Then don’t.”

He pauses, chewing his lip. I know he��s about to push imagined boundaries in the way his nature dictates. “Now I’m curious. What do you get off to?” 

I want to make a joke about what curiosity did to the cat but there’s always been transparency between us. As hard as it would be to talk about this anywhere else, I can do it here with him. “Just porn—regular porn. Blow jobs, orgasms; nothing special.”

“Nothing special,” he murmurs, half in thought and half amused. Before he continues his thought his hand is at my face again, this time stroking over one eyebrow and then the other. It sends goosebumps over my body. I barely manage to keep from shuddering. “But when you close your eyes—no porn—and it’s just you and your hand, what do you think about?” 

This is a little more personal than porn. My own private thoughts, the fantasies that involve me. His finger is drawing a pattern down my arm. The flush in my face has done the opposite of fade. The urge to deflect is almost as strong as my desire to talk—to him about anything, everything...

“It’ll sound dumb.”

“No, it won’t.”

I sigh. It will, no matter what he says. “Mostly it’s not anything sexual: touch, nearness, safety, acceptance, love.” All things relatively easy and yet things I’ve been without all my adult life. The slight lift of his eyebrows prompts me on, unbelieving that that’s all there is to it. “Of course it’ll be in a scenario where something is happening but it’s more about what they say, how they feel—about me,” I stutter out. 

His hand pauses, lips parted. What I said shocked him perhaps, in the very least it gave him pause. What had he expected me to say? “So you gave me what you wanted for yourself?” And now I have to take a moment to digest. I hadn’t thought of it like that. “Nearness, safety, acceptance, love…” he trails off, leaving the list unfinished. Perhaps touch isn’t something he wants to acknowledge, although he’s never flinched when I’ve held him. Maybe he’s nervous about stating that part, as unlikely as it seems for the Ash I know and for the way he freely reaches for me. Perhaps dancing around that point is for my benefit.

“I guess we all love in the way we want to be loved.” 

The smile that spreads on his lips is warm, soft, it makes my body tingle. His hand lands on mine, a gentle grip secures it and brings it to his mouth. One soft kiss is pressed to my knuckles. The battle is easily lost; a shiver runs through me. It’s the first time he’s kissed me, disregarding necessity in another age. It should feel strange or new but intimacy has always been a fine line between us; blurred boundaries that were never firmly in place. 

Is this how he wants to be loved? With kisses and touches? 

I’m not brave enough to ask, but my body is willing enough to respond—embarrassingly so. I roll onto my front, burying my face in a pillow. Maybe he won’t notice—I hope he doesn’t because I don’t want to pollute a candid moment with something carnal. All he does is shift closer, my hand is against the cotton once more but his fingers are threaded through mine. 

“What about you?” I mumble into the pillow, attempting to shift the spotlight from me. 

He snorts a short laugh, breath teases the bare skin of my shoulder. “Do I jerk off?” I hum a yes, opening one eye to peer at him. That half-smile he’s wearing says that this conversation is as amusing as it is left-field. “Yeah. It’s a thing that needs doing every now and again—like stretching, I guess.” 

It’s my turn to laugh. “Like a mechanical process?”

He shrugs but everything about him says he’s at ease sharing. I never doubted that we both felt free with each other, but reassurance never hurts. “I guess. I dropped the shame a while back. But it’s still a blank screen—behind my eyes. It’s difficult to explain.” 

“I think I get it.” Relief pours into me knowing the shame is gone. I’m grateful once again for the safety net he found. I won’t pry at the ground covered, not in any detail, but the progress can’t have been easy. There’s not much to be done for the regret that it could have been me that helped, despite knowing that’s ego talking once more. Sometimes we aren’t the person to help. Accepting that is hard but he’s here, still the same Ash that I loved but evolved. Free. He could fly after all. 

There’s a lull, but he’s still pondering. Whatever it is brings a half smile to his face and piques my curiosity. “What?” Ash’s focus adjusts, it’s back to me and now he’s humming a questioning sound like he’s trying to pass off my question. “What are you thinking?” 

“If I told you it might embarrass you.”

I don’t know if I could be embarrassed anymore than I currently am, given that my hard-on hasn’t budged. And I’m pretty sure he knows what’s going on—why I turned to press my hips against the mattress. I was always transparent to him, yet it hasn’t disturbed him. He hasn’t pulled away. “It won’t.” 

The words are considered before they’re spoken. “I’m learning something new.” His gaze is inquisitive once more, as are those long fingers—the index runs a path down the bridge of my nose. “I always loved your honesty, the truth in your expressions.” He pauses and touch drifts to my shoulder, skating slow patterns over my pebbled skin. Heat is effortlessly coaxed to the surface. “And now I’m learning how you react to the way I touch you. It’s so honest—pure. You don’t hide and you’d never ask for more. Yet just this,” his hand drifts to my spine, running half way down my back and pushing the sheets lower before it retraces it’s steps and lingers at my nape, “just my hand or my words, and you feel so warm and fluid. I don’t have to try and it does something, and that does something to me.” There’s a pause but I stay silent. He adds softly, like it means nothing at all when it’s probably the most profound thing anyone has ever said to me, “It’s beautiful.” 

I try to swallow but it’s impossible. I have no idea what to say. I want to find some reproach in his assertion that he doesn’t have to try to turn me on, but the admission takes precedence. He finds me—us—beautiful, like this? Flushed and receptive? 

“Something?” I ask. It’s about the only thing I can find to say, to specify exactly what that means for him. 

His grin says he understands, one of those glimpses of rare childishness shines through—I adore it when it shows. His hand stops it’s coaxing to push against my shoulder playfully. “You know what I mean.” Then another soft kiss is pushed to my knuckles. “And there’s nothing wrong with asking—FYI,” he adds before he flops onto his back. His gaze stays locked to mine—waiting for my reaction. 

He’s always inspired bravery in me—by presence or memory alone. 

We love how we want to be loved; his fingers and lips have both caressed me. And he beckons me to ask. I know what he wants me to ask and I want to ask it. 

His chest is open and inviting, and after that weighty confession, it’s my turn to move my feet. Shifting on to my elbows, I inch across the short distance between us, his fingers dance up my back, idly toying with the hair at my nape again. There is enjoyment and pride dancing in his eyes, they’re wider now though with that something: anticipation and the want that lay beneath his fingertips. 

How long have we been waiting for this moment? Now I just have to find the words to ask. For once my obtuse instincts are absent. “Can I kiss you?” I whisper. 

If Ash was a cat, I'm pretty sure he'd be purring. His answer doesn’t come in words. Turning on his side, towards me, suddenly we are nose to nose—bridging an impasse that I want to both last an eternity and end immediately. The tip of his nose nudges against mine playfully, then his head tilts. Every inch of me trembles and a low sound escapes my lips before our mouths find each other—a soft, fleeting press. 

Soft. He is so soft...

[mila-dans]

Spells Out Trouble: Long Train Runnin’

This is chapter eight of “Spells Out Trouble.” Masterlist Here!

Chapter Seven: Beautiful Sunday

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 5550

Summary: You have been with the Winchesters for several years now going through all the literal trials and tribulations with them. What happens when Dean gets hit by a love spell and becomes head-over-heels for you? Will your pushed down emotions finally rise or will you get in over your head? Find out what happens when your best friend’s hard exterior becomes mush whenever you end up in his eyeline.

Just so you know: This is my first Fanfic so sorry if there are aspects missing. “Spells Out Trouble” is a series with about ten chapters. If you have any suggestions or tips, I’d love to hear from you. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it! (Also, not my gif!)

You take a deep breath and start to get up and walk towards the door. You feel Dean tug on your hand and pull you back. You turn back to look at him as he hangs on to your hand.

“Please,” he says. “Please don’t go again. Stay. Please.”

Without any objection, you walk back towards the bed with your hand in Dean’s. You lay on top of the covers facing Dean. He turns off the light and you just stare at each other. Hand in hand. Your eyes slowly close as you drift off into sleep.

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

You start to turn and wriggle around a bit as you begin to wake up. You feel arms around you as you are pressed up against a chest. It was Dean. You recall the night before and how you had your hand in his. But now, you were much closer now. He let his arms loose a little bit as you started to stretch. It was about ten in the morning. You were surprised it wasn’t even later. Your dream last night felt so real and so nice. You wished you didn’t have to get up and start the day. You dreaded what was to come. If Dean wasn’t just gonna up and kick you out after he gets cured, he at least would most likely not ever talk to you again. You knew the real Dean would hate anyone messing with his mind. And you have been messing with his mind from making him go insane when all this started, to sleeping with him. Or your version of sleeping with him that is.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Dean said as you opened your eyes and met his gaze.

“Hi,” you responded, almost struggling to say. You started to think of how today was the day that you were going to lose Dean. Forever. Your eyes began to water the more you thought about it. Just enough to where a tear or two started to slip down your face.

“Hey,” Dean said as he whipped your tears with his thumb. “It’s okay,” he said with such sincerity that you started to suffer even more. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight.

You don’t care anymore. You can’t bear to care whether or not Dean would want you to have him hold you. The real Dean that is. This Dean whose arms you were in, he wasn’t Dean. Wasn’t even close. You would fight back a bit on being so close to him but you couldn’t. You didn’t. A part of you just wanted to stay like this forever. It felt safe and it felt amazing. You two just laid there for a movement. Your tears would fall down every now and again, only to be met with a reassurance that everything was okay from Dean.

“It’s time,” Dean said as he lifted your head to look at him.

“Dean…”

“Shh.” He looked in your eyes and at your lips. Your heart started to race. He analyzed every inch of your face. He moved in close to you. He placed his lips on your head and you let out a sigh. He gave you a kiss on your temple and pulled you tight. He released his grip and sat up. “We’ve got to um, fix me,” he chuckles. “Yeah. We gotta fix me.” He smiles trying to hold back his emotions.

He had gotten better at controlling himself. You were sure that it took everything in Dean to not just kiss you. He was more careful now. You actually think that he may want the cure partly due to his struggle with being next to you. He seemed to be sure that he loved you and will still love you even without the cure. Funny. You knew the truth. You knew that you would always long for him and he would never long for you. It’s sad but you know it’s the truth.

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

You walked into the war room where Sam was sitting.

“Hey,” he said.

You sigh and give him a “Howdy” in return.

“Are you alright?” Sam asks, noticing your saddened and depressed expressions.

“Yeah,” you take a seat, “peachy.” You give him a smile that you are unable to uphold.

“So, did you ever figure out the cure?” He tries to lighten or better the mood with a smile but fails to do so for you.

“Yep.” You place a piece of paper on the table. “I’ve got it.”

“Great!” Sam takes the paper and tries to read.

“Yeah, it’s in Greek so good luck with that,” you say as Sam rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I can read it because I’m brilliant.”

He smiles and asks, “So what do we need?”

“Basic stuff. We do need to make a call to get one ingredient though.”

“To who?”

“A demon,” you say blatantly.

“A what?!” Sam asks.

“The spell requires blood from a demon, fresh blood.” You look at Sam, clarifying that the blood that you have in stock, won’t suffice.

“Great.” Sam huffs. “What else?”

“We also need angel blood. So, Castiel too.”

“And that’s it?” Sam asks, checking to see if you are going to need a human heart or anything else bizarre.

“Nope. Just blood, Latin, herbs, spice and everything nice.” You give Sam a smile as he gives you a glare.

“You know who we gotta call right?” Sam asks as he looks at you agitated.

“Of course!” You answer sarcastically. “What other demon do we have on speed dial who mutually wants to kill us?”

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

“Hello, boys.”

The voice of one pathetic Scottish demon still sounds shivers down your spine. You turn around to face the bottom dweller. “Crowley! Long time.” You smile.

“Pardon me, boys, and girl. Yes. Too long you might say.”

“Ah, well, things to do, people to see. You know the drill.”

“And I assume putting me inside your silly little devils trap at your clubhouse isn’t for a friendly check in?”

“No,” Sam answers sternly.

“Moose! How’s the… oh wait… all of your misadventures with women are fatal. Aren’t they?” Crowley gives Sam his signature smile.

“Shut it,” you say, wishing that this day would already be over.

“Right to it then?”

“We need your blood,” Sam orders.

“Interesting. And what might my blood be used for?”

“It’s none of your business,” you answer.

“Wow. You don’t trust me? After everything we’ve been through together?”

“No,” Sam replies. “Not even a little bit.”

“Well as much as I’d love to help what I can only assume to be Dean due to him missing this little meeting of ours, I can’t.”

“Sure you can.” Sam holds up his demon blade.

“No. I can’t.” Crowley smiles. “Since our previous time together, I cooked up a little spell in order to keep what’s mine, mine.”

“Meaning?” You ask.

“Meaning, my blood stays in me. So looks like you’re out of luck.” You and Sam sigh.

“Great,” Sam says. “So we just need to go find another demon?”

“I guess,” you reply. “I’m sure there is bound to be one somewhere. One that isn’t under Crowley’s protection.” You think about how the demons have been off the radar for some time now due to the king of hell’s new arrangements.

“Such a shame. That is… unless…” Crowley taunts.

“Unless what?” You ask.

“See, there are some demons that aren’t great fans of me, nor I them. Let’s just say I know where they are and I’ve got my eyes set on some hunters that could take care of it no problem.”

“If you want them dead then why don’t you just kill them yourself?” Sam asks.

“Like I said, they aren’t fans of me. They have certain precautions set against me that I am unable to infiltrate. Or any other demon under my reign.” Crowley looks at you and Sam as you think about his offer. Find some demons, kill some demons.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. This will be beneficial for the both of us. Win, win. But,” Crowley pauses to smile, “I do want to see him first.”

“See who?” You ask.

“Who do you think, mouse? Squirrel. I want to see what's wrong with him. Tell me, is he still alive?” Crowley laughs a little. Sam rolls his eyes and reluctantly leaves to go get Dean. “So, what’s wrong with him?”

“He’s under a spell,” you answer grimly.

“Oh? What type? A murderous spree one?”

“No. It’s a love spell,” you say regretful.

“Really?! Who is he in love with?” Crowley laughs.

“Me,” you mumble causing Crowley to laugh even more.

“Mouse and squirrel. Brilliant!”

“Oh shut up. You’re just jealous that it’s not you two,” you retort.

“I’m just pleased to see that you’re so desperate that you thought it best to call me. The situation must be dire.” Crowley smirks.

Sam walks in with Dean.

“There,” Sam says as he signals to Dean. “Here he is. Now tell us where the demons are.”

“Not so fast, moose,” Crowley responds. “I want to take this in. Dean Winchester, smitten with love.”

“Go to hell,” Dean replies.

“I’d love to. So, Dean, does it make you mad that the gang are trying to cure the spell?” Crowley moves around in the devils trap.

“No,” Dean says without hesitation.

“Really? Does it make you mad that Y/N doesn’t want you?”

“No,” Dean says with a little hesitation.

“Ah,” Crowley moves around more. You’re too focused on Dean to notice how close Crowley is to you. “Does it make you mad if I were to--” Crowley grips your arm, pulling you into the devils trap with him. He puts an angel blade up to your neck so that the boys wouldn’t attempt to come closer. “Do this?” He continues as he starts to cut into your neck. You wince at the pain but do your best to remain steady.

“Stop it, Crowley!” Dean commands.

“How about, if I do this?” Crowley takes his hand and brushes your hair from your head and kisses your neck. You stand still, disgusted but not worried. You know that he won’t kill you. He’s only trying to toy with Dean which he appears to be doing successfully.

“Stop it,” Dean says as tears start to form in his eyes. Crowley continues to kiss your neck. “Stop it.” Dean’s voice breaks. “Please,” he says with a scared tone, “quit it.”

“Interesting.” Crowley pulls away from you. “I like that you like her, Dean. It’s quite funny to see you scared and afraid for this pathetic little human.” Crowley makes another cut in your arm just for fun. Dean stares at Crowley with a murderous look. Sam holds him back just in case Crowley gets to him. “Why don’t you let me out of the devils trap, love. Then I’ll tell you where they are.”

“Yeah,” you struggle to say. He keeps the knife to you as you break the devils trap.

“Good. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Crowley laughs. He then takes out a pen and writes an address on your arm, making sure to press extra hard.

“That’s it?” Sam asks.

“That’s it. Goodbye boys,” Crowley looks at you, “and girl.”

He disappears.

Dean races over to you and looks at all the cuts. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just need a band aid or two.” You smile, trying to ease him.

“Good.” Dean gives you a quick hug then turns you over to Sam who writes down the address.

“Okay,” Sam says. “I’ve got it and if you’re good then I say we knock this out before the sun goes down.” You and Dean both give a nod.

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

“This is a trap right?” You ask the brothers.

You were parked in the car outside an empty warehouse where the supposed demons are. It was just you, Sam, and Dean. Cas was still on his way back from the playground but would hopefully get back in time to do the cure. This was a trap.

“Yeah,” Sam replies. “It’s a definite trap.”

“I mean, if Crowley wanted these goons dead and couldn't’ kill them?” Dean says. “Then there must be some sort of deadly defense.”

“Great,” you add. “Best way to start the day by most likely getting ambushed.”

“You ready?” Sam asks.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Piece of cake, right?”

It was not a piece of cake.

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

You and Sam took the southeast entrance as Dean went to the southwest one. It was a big warehouse to be housing just a couple of demons. You were hoping and praying that it was just a couple. But you knew that you were wrong.

“What do you see?” You whispered to Sam who was peering through a window.

“Nothing. It’s empty,” he responds looking confused.

“How is there nothing?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t see anything.”

“Why does this feel more and more like a trap?” You thought aloud. “You go inside and I’ll go check out the upstairs room,” you order.

“Okay. Be careful.”

Sam walked into the main room of the warehouse as you walked upstairs into an old control room.

“What the hell?” You asked yourself as you opened the door.

It was a room filled with dead bodies. Demons most likely. The smell of sulfur wreaked. The bodies were lying in a pile but there was something else. There was a weird looking machine. It was connected to some sort of altar. The machine looked supernatural. It seemed to be a new addition to the warehouse. The altar that it was connected to was gold and covered in blood. It had sigils and markings all over it.

“Guess I know what the defense against Crowley was,” you say to yourself.

You looked to see that the room was completely empty before you examined the machine. No one was in the room. Just you and what looked like a miniature doomsday device. It started to hum so you walked closer to it. You kept your finger on the trigger of your gun as you moved closer and closer to the altar and machinery. A quick flash of white light went off around the room.

Boom

“Y/N!” Sam yelled out. He bolted out of the room to race over to you.

“Not so fast fella,” a demon said as he stopped Sam in his tracks.

“Get out of my way!” Sam pulled the trigger just as another demon came up to hit the gun out of his hand. Sam reached for his angel blade just as he was met by another demon. Three against one.

“Looks like big Winchester here is out of his defenses,” one demon said with a sneer.

“Not quite,” Sam said as he started to punch and hit the three devils as they ganged up on him.

Punch. Kick. Hit. Duck. Punch. Slit. Kick. Hit.

Sam kept his own for about two minutes until they decided that enough was enough and began to use their own human blades.

“Dean!” Sam continued to call out. The demons had him pinned down and kept slicing and dicing into his skin.

“Oh, no!” The demons taunted. “Big bro is dealing with our own brothers. And let's just say they aren’t as fun as we are!” They chuckled as Sam continued to call for backup.

“Sammy!” Dean screamed out as he had four problems of his own.

Dean was fighting hand to hand with the demons. They didn’t have any weapons and it helped that the bodies that they were possessing weren't the strongest. Without any weapons, the boys were fighting a never ending battle. They had been fighting for minutes. Getting beat for minutes.

Damn Crowley.

He knew there were a plethora of demons and lied about it. He didn’t lie about the whole win win situation though. Either we get killed or they do. Works out in his favor both ways.

“Dean!” Sam continued to call out. He kept screaming and struggling to break free. He needed some backup. And no offense to Dean but, he was getting his ass whooped.

“Sam! I need some backup!” Dean kept trying to dodge and punch but to no avail.

“I can’t!”

“Where’s Y/N?!”

An idea came into Sam’s mind. A crazy idea.

“They have her, Dean! They’re about to kill her! She needs you to save her, Dean!”

That old murderous look entered Dean’s eyes. This time, he wasn’t going to try to kill Sam.

No one gets in between him and Y/N.

“No!” Dean screamed at the top of his lungs. He gained a source of brute strength as he hit the skulls and snapped the necks of the demons. He killed one after another. He stabbed them with the demon blade and made his way over to Sam.

“Hey big guy!” Said a demon whose life ended with those being his last words. Dean threw his through a wall and made his way to the two that had Sam pinned down. He sliced through the back of one and cut the throat of another.

“Where is she?!” Dean shouted, sending shivers down Sam’s almost broken spine.

“Up--Upstairs,” Sam said as he picked himself off the floor.

Dean rushed up the stairs to see the shattered glass and smoke surrounding the blast site.

“Y/N?!” Dean called out as he made his way through the pile of dead demons. “Y/N?!” He called out again. He made his way to the altar and found you.

You laid lifeless. Bleeding out. Shards of glass in your skin and your hair. You were motionless in a puddle of your own blood.

“No,” Dean said under his breath as he raced down to pick you up. “No, no, no, no.” He knelt down and pulled you off the ground. “No.” He moved the hair from your face. He was getting painted with your blood as he examined your wounds. “No,” he said again as his voice cracked.

“Dean?!” Sam called out as he managed to make it upstairs. “Dean!”

“No,” Dean said again as he pulled you close to him as tears streamed down his face.

“Dean!” Sam said with a smile as he found his brother. He looked at him confused as to what he had in his hands. When the sight set in that it was you, wounded, and lifeless you, his smile faded into a look of despair. “Is she…”

Dean started to sob as he gripped you tighter and tighter. Tight enough to make you start to gasp.

“Y/N?!” Dean said as he loosened his grip. Sam rushed down to the two of you as he checked your pulse.

“She’s still breathing!”

“Y/N?!” Dean started to shake you.

You tried to open your eyes but they refused to widen. You started to choke on your blood as it overflowed your mouth.

“Tilt her down!” Sam ordered so you could cough up the blood.

You struggled to breathe. Everything hurt. Your head, your body, your throat, your eyes. It was awful.

“Y/N?! Hey, hey, hey, stay with us!” Sam ordered as he saw you going in and out of it.

“Y/N, stay with me,” Dean said with teary eyes and broken words. He continued to brush your hair back and away from the dried and sticky blood. “Stay with me.”

“Dean, we’ve got to get her out of here. To a hospital.” Sam looked at Dean as he remained frozen in shack and fear. “Dean!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean nodded. “Listen, Y/N, I’m gonna pick you up and it’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna hurt a lot but it’s gonna be okay.” Dean reached down as he picked you up slowly and gently.

You whined and cried. You were unable to do anything more. It hurt. Everything hurt.

“It’s okay,” you heard Dean say with his trembling voice. He managed to completely lift you off the ground. “Sam, pull the car around,” Dean ordered. Sam nodded and rushed back down the stairs where you were soon having to follow.

You opened your eyes again to see bloodied and wet eyed Dean. You tried to speak but couldn’t. You couldn’t even cry. Everything hurt.

“Shh,” Dean said, trying to console you. “I just need you to stay with me. This is gonna hurt a lot but you gotta stay with me, Y/N.”

You tried to nod your head but were unable.

Dean slowly carried you through and out the door. You could feel as he took the first step down the stairs. It hurt like hell. He tried to be gentle when stepping down but it didn’t help that he had just gone head to head with a bunch of demons.

“It’s okay,” he said to you as he stepped down each step. It was awful. It hurt.

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

“I got her,” Sam said as Dean passed your body to him as Dean got in the backseat of the impala.

“He…” You tried to say something. Anything. You were in too much pain.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ve got you,” Sam said as he held you in his arms. “It’s okay.”

“Come on,” Dean said as he reached for you as Sam put you in the backseat beside his brother.

You grunted out more in pain.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m right here,” Dean said as he straightened you out in the seat. “I’m right here.”

Your eyes began to flutter again. The pain was too much. You started to pass out.

“Hey, hey! Stay with me!” Dean shouted. You could see Dean’s face. It was the last thing you saw as your eyes closed and your body went into sleep.

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

You were drowsy. Still in pain. It hurt less. You hurt less. It felt funny. You opened your eyes to see the big bright lights.

“Woah,” you mumbled out. You looked to find yourself wrapped up in all sorts of things.

“Hey!” You heard someone call. “Sam!”

“Wha--Where am I?” You asked.

Two men came to your side. You could barely see. The room smelt like jello.

“Y/N?” The cute one asked.

“What? Who are you?” You responded.

“Y/N, it’s me, Dean.”

“Hi, Dean. I’m uh… uh… I’m hungry.” You tilted your head over to see a giant. “Woah!” You shouted. You’ve never seen a giant before.

“Y/N?” The giant asked.

Your eyes went wide. The giant was speaking to you. You stared at the giant and the cute guy.

“Am I at a Chippendales?” You questioned.

“No,” the cute one replied. “Y/N, you’re in a hospital. Remember? The warehouse? The demons?”

“Oh,” you said. “That explains the giant.” You nodded.

“What?” The giant asked with a confused look on its face.

“Don’t you know that your dad’s a demon?” You mentioned.

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” The giant spoke again.

“In the big book, the one with the whore, it says that giants are the spawns of demons and women.”

“What?!” Giant looked at you oddly.

“Your mom is a slut. Your dad is a demon.” You smile, proud that you know things.

“Hey,” the cute one spoke, “I think the drugs are messing with you. It’s me and Sam.”

“No you’re not! You said your name was Dave!”

“No, my name is Dean. His name is Sam,” he points to goliath. “And your name is Y/N.”

“So this isn’t Chippendales? Which one of you is Mike?”

“Listen,” the giant grabbed your normal sized human hand, “Y/N, you are on medication and it's making you loopy. Okay? You aren’t at a Chippendales. You got hurt, Y/N. You’re at a hospital. Cas is heading here so he can fix you. You just got to hang on for a little while longer.”

You looked at the giant and the cute one for a moment. You smiled and they smiled. “I wasn’t listening. Sorry.”

“Sam,” the cute one called, “go get the doctor.”

Goliath went out to find David. The cute guy pulled up a chair to your bed and sat really close to you. He looked sad. His face was wet and it looked like he used non washable red paint on it. He took your hand and held it in his.

“Are you Mike?” You asked.

He smiled and laughed a little. “Yeah, I’m uh, I’m Mike.”

“I knew it.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I have to tell you something,” you whisper.

“What?” He leans in closer to you.

“I don’t have any ones.” You sigh.

“It’s okay,” he says with a smile. He’s crying. He looks really sad.

“Why are you sad, Dave?”

“I’m sad because someone who I love very much is in a lot of pain. And I’m in a lot of pain. More pain than I should be because I love that person very much. I’m very sad because I almost lost that person today.”

“Oh,” you nod.

“Yeah.” The cute man wipes his eyes.

“Welp, I’m glad you found them cause from the looks of it, you wouldn’t last very long without them.”

Cute man looks at you like he’s thinking.

Then the giant comes in with a tin man.

Tin man makes giant and cute man leave.

Then giant and cute man makes the tin man leave.

An odd man comes into the room.

“Y/N?” The odd man asks.

“Who are you?” You ask him.

“Cas, is she… okay?” Cute boy asks.

“If you mean is she suffering from actual memory problems, then no. This is a side effect from the drugs,” the odd man answers.

“It was him!” You point to goliath. “He drugged me! He’s a demon and slut spawn!”

“What?” Odd man asks. “No, Sam is not a demon and he was not the one to drug you.”

“How do you know?!”

“I know because I’m an angel.”

“What? What?! Mike!” You call out. Mike comes over. “Dave, did you know about this?”

“Yeah,” the cute guy answers.

“This Chippendales has some weird fetishes.”

“Sure,” goliath says with a chuckle. “Cas, can you fix her?”

“Mostly,” the odd man responds. “It was a magical type bomb so it works differently. I can heal the majority. It will have to be in segments though. And she won’t have remembered the past five hours at least.”

“Good,” the cute boy says. “Just make it happen.”

The odd angel comes over and puts his fingers on your head.

“I’m getting touched by an angel!” You shout. “Best day ev--”

Dun

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

You move a bit then jolt up and open your eyes.

“What the hell?!” You shout. You look around and are in the infirmary.

“Y/N?!” Dean says as he rushes over with Sam. “Are you alright?”

“I think?! What the hell happened?! I was in the car five seconds ago!”

“Right,” Sam said. “Well um,” he clears his throat, “we all went into the warehouse and it was a trap.”

“We haven’t gone to the warehouse yet?”

“Yes, we have,” Dean replies. “It was a trap and there was a bomb and you got hurt. Cas healed you though.”

“What?”

“It’s okay, I mean, you're all good now.” Sam said. “Right?”

“Yeah, I think. Is that why I can’t remember anything or know what the hell you’re talking about?”

“Yes. But good news,” Sam looked at you and Dean, “Cas got a demon and we’ve got the rest of the ingredients for the cure.”

“Great!” You say, lying to yourself and them. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Dean says.

“I’m gonna go get it ready if you guys are good?” Sam asks. You and Dean both nod as Sam leaves.

“How long was I out?” You ask.

“A day or two.”

“What?! Geez. A freaking bomb?”

“Yep.”

“Well that’s a new one.”

“Definitely,” Dean says. He pauses for a moment to look at you. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“To be honest,” you take a breath. “I feel funny. Not really in pain but I feel like I got hit by a bomb, actually.” You laugh a little.

You look at Dean. It looks different, again. He went back to his stubble look. He doesn’t look as pale as he was. He still has dark circles. He looks tired and depressed-like. He just looks so sad and in pain.

“Are you okay, Dean?” You ask.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you with sorrowful eyes. “I’m just--I just need the cure.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, afraid that even with the spell, Dean, the real Dean was already beginning to not love you anymore.

“I can’t.” Dean starts to have tears fall down his face. “I love you, so much, and if I lost you, I wouldn’t last long. This curse, it’s, it’s amazing but seeing you like this… seeing you on the brink of death… I can’t control myself. I just have to get that uncontrollability fixed. I have to get it fixed so that I can just love you and that’s it. I just want to keep loving you and once I get cured, I’ll only love you.”

You smile at Dean and take his hand. A single unnoticed tear slips down your face.

“I know,” you lie through your teeth. “I know.”

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

“Alright,” Sam says as he mixes the ingredients together. “Now this,” he says as he takes the demon blood and pours it in the pot with the other ingredients.

You are at Dean’s bedside in the infirmary. He is gripping on to your hand ever so tightly. You, Sam, and Cas are choosing to ignore the tears that are streaming down Dean’s face or the fact that he is shaking. You try to smile and console him but truthfully, you need someone to console you.

He was never gonna talk to you again. He was gonna kick you out of the bunker. He’d never talk to you again. You might work with Cas and Sam for a while. That is until they decide to leave you too. There’s no way that Dean would just be alright with everything that's happened. It may not be your fault but this was all your problem. Dean opened up to you. He trusted you, loved you. As soon as he gets the cure he’ll either give you the silent treatment or just tell you to head for the door.

You were dreading the worse.

“Ready?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” Dean nods.

“Y/N, are you ready?”

“Wh--Yeah,” you clear your throat, “yeah.”

Sam starts to mumble some Latin as Cas cuts his hand and bleeds it over the pot. You look to Dean as he looks at you, terrified, scared. Without thinking, you lean over to him and give him a kiss on his forehead. He nods his head at you as to offer himself and you some type of reassurance.

“It’s all gonna be okay,” you mouth out as Sam stops his speech.

Dean closes his eyes and goes into an unconscious state. His chest rises up and down as he grunts in pain. He moves around in the bed as his hand still grips to yours. I

t stops.

This was it. Time to lose Dean forever.

Dean gasps as he opens his eyes and looks in shock.

“What th--” He turns to you and Sam and Cas. He takes his hand away from yours.

Maybe he just let go of your hand by accident.

“Dean?” Cas asks. “Are you alright?”

“I uh,” Dean shakes his head. “I think?” His voice sounds normal. He looks like normal Dean. Tense, but still normal. “What um,” he looks at you almost disgusted like, “what happened?”

“Well,” Sam starts to speak up, “Do you remember the curse? You got hit with a love curse.”

“Right.” Dean sits up in the bed and continues to look at you oddly and then looks towards Sam. “Who was I in love with?”

Sam laughs a little thinking that Dean was just worried about who he was making moves on. “Y/N. You were under a spell to love her.”

“Y/N?” Dean says. “Yuck.”

You laugh it off. He didn’t mean it.

“I mean, Y/N? Really?” Dean asks, Sam nods. “God, that must’ve been a strong spell to make me love some worthless piece of trash like you.”

It shattered.

“What?” You mumble through a nervous smile.

“‘What?’ You mean you don’t agree with you being a piece of trash? I’m sorry, I meant a hag. Oh no, sorry, I meant a whore. A slut. A stupid skank who is useless and pathetic.”

“Dean?” Sam asks. “What are you doing?”

“Sam, I’m just trying to tell this stupid insignificant bottom dwelling disease what she is.” Dean looks at you with more disgust. You stare frozen.

It wasn’t that bad. You didn’t think of this reaction but it’s probably temporary.

You stand up as Dean stands up after you.

“You hear that?” Dean says as he starts to back you up in the corner.  “Do you understand what I’m saying or are you to dumb? Cause if you do then let me continue. You are a bitch. A witch. You are the worst person on earth and to be in love with you is to be in love with Satan himself.”

“Dean,” Sam says as he pushes Dean away from you, “knock it off.” Sam looks at Dean confused. You all were. But not Dean. He kept the shots coming.

“No Sam! She deserves to know how god awful she is!” Dean pushes Sam back which gets Cas interested.

“Dean?!” Cas yells.

“You are worthless! You are nothing! You are some bastard that doesn’t even deserve to live!” Dean moves over to pick up a gun. He aims it at you. “Let me give you mercy.”

“No!” Sam shouts as Dean fires the trigger. Cas got in front of you before it could hit you. Sam took the gun out of Deans hands and started to fight with him.

“Fine! I don’t need some gun to end this maggot’s life!” Dean yells. Now Sam and Cas were both holding Dean back.

You ran out from the infirmary, trying to get away. You could still hear him.

“You should be dead! It should’ve been you! You killed your parents!”

You raced up the stairs. You weren’t quick enough.

“It was your fault they died! You killed them! It was all your fault you piece of sh-”

Slam

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Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag list is open!

@crazybutconfidentaf @doctorlilo @pillowjj @busy-bee-angel-misska @vicmc624 @sl33pybo1​

Last chapter: Escape (The Pina Colada Song)

[niall-is-my-dream]

Power Over Me - Part Two

Thanks to @heart-attack-harry and @lizziespidiepridie for your help.

Catch up on part one below

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/188083232033/power-over-me

"I wanna be king in your story I wanna know who you are I want your heart to beat for me Oh I"

3k words

Your eyes were struggling to open up this morning. Puffy from crying like a loser last night over a guy who is clearly an arsehole. Reliving the whole thing in your head had you pulling the covers up and hiding beneath them, wanting to hide away for the rest of your Sunday. 

But you knew you shouldn't.

Dragging yourself from your bed you managed to navigate your way to the bathroom, running the tap and splashing your face with warm water. Patting your face dry, you looked in the mirror above the sink and saw your face. 

You looked a right state. 

You needed paracetamol, a coffee and a two week vacation somewhere hot.

Preferably by yourself where you could wallow in your own self pity.

Sadly you'd have to make do with your sofa.

After making yourself a coffee and some toast you sat your bum on the sofa, turning on the tv and browsing the channels, you found some housey type programme. You know the ones where they want the cafe culture life in London but on a shoestring budget, then complain it's a two bed flat rather than a 3 bed house they'd dreamed off.

Well those twats can fuck off you thought as you switched the channels to an old episode of Friends. The One With The Prom Video, great. Basically the one where after years of lusting over Rachel, Ross finally wins her over by his sweet antics from when they were teenagers. 

A nice happy ending.

Well that can fuck off to.

You turned it off in the end, choosing to sit in silence and eat.

Your phone was on the coffee table with your bag and keys, exactly where you had left it last night when you'd got in. It had been ringing constantly on your journey home and the taxi driver had even commented about you not answering it.

After a quick text to Deo as promised to tell him you were home safe, you'd turned it off and left it. 

Now it was slowly torturing you.

A sucker for punishment, you moved to turn it on. The screen lit up and showed you how many missed calls, texts and voice messages you had.

A reply from Deo telling you to sleep well and to text him if you wanted to talk.

You didn't.

A couple from your friends who you'd been out with, asking you what was going on and that they hoped you were safely home.

And 23 messages from Niall.

13 missed calls. 

And 5 voice messages.

You didn't bother to read them and you hastily deleted them all without reading them. Same with the voice messages. Delete.

You didn't feel any better after doing it, the coffee and toast slathered in butter hadn't even helped how you were feeling. It wasn't a hangover or troubled night sleep that was causing you pain. 

It was your heart.

You were shamefully heartbroken at what had happened. Shameful because you had vowed since Lewis Burns broke up with you in Year Ten that you would never ever let a guy hurt you like that again. Granted you had been 15 at the time but it was a value that ten years later you still tried to follow.

Your heart felt heavy and it both scared you and annoyed you.

You just need some time to cool off and get over him.

Letting out a huge sigh you gathered up your plate and mug and took them to the kitchen. Opening up Spotify, you put some tunes on and started tidying up your flat. Washing up, making your bed, putting a load of washing in, it was all a distraction. A much needed one and it was working. When it was all done you grabbed your book and headed for a bath.

Throughout your day your phone beeped with messages, when you saw Niall's name you just deleted them. But as the afternoon went on, you opened up his contact and blocked him. Tears had followed and you ended up going to bed at 9pm. Your Sunday had turned out to be a quiet and lonely one, but something that was very much needed. 

Turning off your alarm the next day, you couldn't be bothered to get out of bed. But you had a meeting at 9am and another at 11am, and you had some prep to do.

The mornings routine was basically just going through the motions. You still felt like absolute shite, the heavy feeling in your heart hadn't even remotely subsided. After taking a hot shower you dressed and ate a quick breakfast, not even bothering to put the radio on like you normally did. Good luck to anyone who came in contact with you today.

The tube as usual was busy and you were squashed in amongst all the other commuters. By the time you'd arrived at your station your mood was getting worse. It hit its peak when you walked into your building and saw bimbo bambi on the front desk. She had a stupid smirk on her face that was definitely aimed at you as you walked past her. 

Luckily she had been on the phone and hadn't been able to speak to you. You were in no mood to be dealing with her high pitched squeaky voice this morning. How in the hell she had got the job as receptionist at the Recruitment Agency you worked at you will never know. You got the impression she couldn't even spell her own name. Which was Nina by the way. Bimbo bambi was just a nasty, horrible nickname that you and Annie from the second floor had come up with. Bullying wasn't something you condoned, but she didn't know that was her nickname and so she couldn't be offended if she didn't even know it. You were always polite to her and smiled nicely whenever she interacted with you. But she was definitely not a friend of yours and would never be one.

The reason behind her smirk became apparent when you saw the huge bouquet of flowers on your desk when you walked into your office.

Pausing in the doorway, you didn't want to go over to them. A few faces of your colleagues were smiling at you. Jack the office playboy was the first to speak, asking you who your new fella was. Choosing to ignore him, you walked to your desk dumping down your bag and looking at the arrangement.

The bouquet was beautiful, a mixture of light pink and cream flowers. A sealed note was attached to the cellophane wrap. Looking around as you opened it, a simple message was written.

Please can we talk x

Shoving the card in your bag, you didn't have time to even think about it now. You had a meeting with a company about helping them with recruitment in exactly 28 minutes. A large coffee was needed and you needed to gather all your prep together.

Dwelling on the card and over thinking about it would have to wait.

********

Your 9am meeting went well and you were back at your desk finishing the prep for the next one when your work phone rang. Seeing it was the reception office you let out a frustrated sigh before putting on your most polite voice.

"Hello?"

"Elizabeth, You have a visitor?" Nina said.

"Oh they're early." You replied looking at your watch and seeing 10:35am.

"No, it's not your next appointment."

Your heart sank.

Please no.

"You didn't tell me you were friends with Niall Horan?!" She whispered excitedly down the phone.

"Well it never came up in conversation." You replied quickly. "Please tell him I'm super busy and that I have a meeting at 11."

"Oh ok, will do." She replied, and you hung up before she could answer any further.

You were fuming, first the flowers then turning up at your work. Did he think that was the way to get you to listen? Well he was sadly mistaken.

Running your fingers across your temples you willed the anger to go away. You still had work to do. You'd managed to distract yourself this morning with the potential business that your meetings could secure. Letting him get into your head was not needed right now.

Breathing out a massive sigh, you looked up at your computer to continue answering some emails. That's when you saw him. 

Strolling through your floor coming for your office, attracting the attention of every single person. His casual attire of dark jeans and blue t-shirt being the biggest factor.

Fuck he looked so good.

His face was unreadable, something that was strange to you considering you'd known him 6 years. You had always been able to read him. 

But not today.

You stood up from your desk as he strolled into your office, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Niall...."

"Why haven't you answered my messages?" He asked you bluntly.

"Because I didn't want to." You replied in the same manner.

"You've not even read them, and the last ones I've tried to send you bounced back. Have you blocked me?!"

"Yes, and yet you still didn't get the hint." You said as you gestured towards the flowers.

"I just...... " He began but you cut him off.

"Look Niall, I can't do this right now. I have a meeting in 15 minutes to get ready for. To be honest I don't even want to have this conversation with you at all."

You were being rude now, desperate to save face. Your heart was pounding in your chest, it ached to reach over and touch him, but you held back when you remembered Saturday night. His cocky behaviour had infuriated you, but his lost looking face right now was making you feel guilty. But only for a split second before you remembered how hurt you were, how embarrassed and ashamed you'd felt.

Holding back the tears was becoming harder and you really needed him to leave before he saw how broken you were. The tough exterior you were trying to show him was crumbling.

"So, you don't even want to talk to me about what happened?" He asked you his voice calm.

"No."

This was a lie, well sort of. You did want answers from him but not now. You weren't ready.

He shook his head and started to look annoyed which infuriated you even more. He had no right coming into your office, surely the ignoring his calls and messages was enough of a hint for him, but apparently not.

You'd have to have a word with Nina in a subtle way to get her to actually listen to you when you need someone to go away.

"This isn't over." He said as he left.

"It never started." You replied.

**********

The second meeting had been ok, luckily it was a meeting with a client already on your books, because your mind had been elsewhere. 

Niall strolling into your office was not something that you had even been remotely prepared for. Seeing him had effecting you far more than you had thought. It was a silly crush and you needed to get over it.

It would be easy, he travelled a lot and he had a lot of friends. You were sure you could dodge seeing him, you'd probably lay low for a few weeks and avoid the dreaded conversation with your mutual friends.

Willie's voice asking Niall what the hell he had done to you, was still stuck in your head, he had messaged you today asking if you were ok. Willie had taken on the big brother role in the group and as one of the youngest you had been happy to have him care and support you. Deo had sort of become the annoying brother, but he had shown his caring side to when he helped you in a taxi on Saturday night. Neither had pushed you to talk and you appreciated it.

As you had got into the office early that morning you decided to head off at 5. Your head was still pounding and after taking some painkillers you tidied away your desk and grabbed your bag.

Nina was sitting at her desk on reception when you went past.

"I'm heading off now Nina so if anyone calls they will need to leave a message." You informed her.

"Got dinner with a certain someone?!" She replied with a wink.

God she was annoying.

"Not that it's any of your business but no."

"Oh it's just he's been outside in his car for the last half an hour."

"What?"

"Niall Horan." She said continuing to smirk.

"Spreading gossip isn't tolerated here. And not following orders from me when I ask not to be disturbed while I'm prepping for an important meeting is also a problem."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know, but Niall is my friend and he's incredibly private. Please don't start making something out of nothing." You replied, defending him. He might have pissed you off, but you couldn't help but be protective.

"I am really sorry, I wouldn't spread gossip I promise. And I'll follow your orders about visitors from now on." She replied looking absolutely petrified of you.

"Thankyou, I'll see you in the morning." You said.

She mumbled a nervous goodbye as you left the building. You spied his car out the corner of your eye, what was he thinking hanging around waiting for you?

Walking quickly in the opposite direction towards the tube station, you hoped he hadn't spotted you.  

But of course he fucking had.

He called out your name, but you headed down the street winding in between the crowds. You knew he wouldn't follow you, wouldn't risk being seen chasing a woman down the street. In today's world, cameras were in your pockets and footage could be uploaded online for everyone to see in seconds.

He definitely wouldn't do that.

You reached the tube station, swiping your oyster card you made your way through the station to your platform, breathing a sigh of relief at having avoided him again.

The walk back from the station wasn't long and you called into little Tesco Express to get a microwave meal and a bottle of wine. You definitely couldn't be bothered to cook tonight. It when you were approaching your building that you saw his car in the car park.

Fuck.

You managed to avoid him and sneak around the back. There were two entrances to your block, accessing the way through the gate and the shared garden, you let yourself in hopeful that he hadn't seen you.

But it didn't matter, he hadn't been waiting in his car. He was waiting at your door.

Your heart sank.

After a rollercoaster day of emotions and a heavy workload you could cry just at the sight of him. You didn't have anymore fight in you to argue and you knew you'd crumble. 

The sight of him leaning against your door, knocked the breath out of you. His face looking straight ahead, the sound of you walking up the steps caused him to turn.

His face once again had that annoyed look, and you couldn't believe the cheek of it. How dare he look annoyed after how he had behaved.

Walking up to your door, he didn't move. Your eyes met his and the annoyed look was gone, replaced by one that was pleading with you. He knew you'd ask him to leave and he would fight you until you agreed to hear him out.

Moving closer to him, you were just inches away as you raised your right hand above his shoulder and put your key in the lock.

"Please talk to me. Let me explain." He whispered.

Your body betrayed you as your eyes filled with tears.

Turning the key, you unlocked the door and moved sideways to get around him. He was right behind you, walking into your flat as you were taking the key out the lock. Strolling in like it was perfectly ok to do after everything that had happened.

Shutting the door, not acknowledging him you put your shopping bag on the side. Carefully taking out your meal and your wine. You could sense him at the doorway as you took off your coat and sorted out your bag.

"Are you going to let me explain?" He asked his voice calm and low.

"Doesn't look like I have any choice does it?!" You scoffed aware that he could probably hear the way you were choked up.

"Why are you being like this?" He asked you.

"Like what Niall? An arsehole? Not nice is it?" You replied allowing your face to be seen, no longer hiding behind your long hair.

His eyes widened when he saw your face and upon hearing your words.

"I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter."

"It does matter. I'm not good at this."

"Good at what exactly?"

"Talking about this sort of stuff."

"Then why are you here, why have you been messaging me, coming to my office and waiting outside my work? I specifically told you I didn't want to talk to you. Did you not listen or are you just trying to humiliate me even more?"

Silence.

You couldn't even look at him, choosing to walk past him and out to the hall, hanging your coat up on the hook on the wall.

"I think you should go." You said, eyes brimming with tears. You knew he was right behind you and you couldn't bare to turn around and face him.

"Not until you've let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain, it was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened. Done. Now you can go."

"Elizabeth."

"No, I can't deal with you right now. Please just go." You begged.

"I didn't mean to leave that night, I don't know why I left you to wake up alone."

You moved towards the door, opening it, unable to bare being near him. His scent was invading your senses and you couldn't take it anymore.

"Let me know when you figure out why you did." You said and he moved towards you.

Your eyes couldn't meet his as he looked at you before walking out the door.

Part Three

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/188384634468/power-over-me-part-three

[miko-and-companyau]

We Lie in the Black and White

Miko meeting Hades! 

Not gonna lie, this may be my favorite story I’ve written for this AU so far. Get ready for some angst (will I ever stop hurt this child? Who knows!)

Once again, not beta-read (I really need to find a beta-reader for these things...)

...

“Is Euri okay?”

The winter had been hard these past few evenings. The snow piled up and the temperatures and food rations went down. Miko had moved in with the loving couple just a couple months prior and things were for once going okay. 

Except not fully. 

Orpheus’ fingers froze in mid head pat. He was putting Miko to bed, kneeled down next to the child who was sat upwards in his cot, a worried expression evident on his face. The musician sighed, melancholic smile plastered on his lips, “she will be, Miko. I promise.”

… 

She had a system, a nightly routine she had to complete before her brain allowed her to relax and unwind. Miko watched as she made her way to the kitchen, in her hand a green notebook with a slightly bent cover. Opening up the cupboards, cabinets, and drawers, green notebook flipped open to the next blank page, she’d count their stock. 

He observed how she stacked cans high in the cabinets. Counting and re-stacking. Re-stacking and counting some more. She held on firmly to jars of pickled vegetables and preserved fruits, a gentleness to her touch. They were fragile, valuable glass filled with, in her mind, multicolored gems. She wiped the pads of her fingertips across the polished, handwritten labels. She read them once, twice, three times before putting them back in their place. She’d frantically scribble down numbers and begin the process again, moving on to the next item in her vision. 

Once finished with the kitchen, she’d walk with hasty steps to their living room, that in reality, was more a glorified dining room. She’d pull blankets up from old squeaky chairs, folding them over and over, only pausing in short burst to run her hands over the fabric and ponder. Silent in her thoughts. Miko never knew what she was thinking about in those moments, but he also didn’t want to ask. 

He studied the way she rearranged the logs of firewood- rotating them to the left, the right, lying then vertically against the dirty brick fireplace, before letting them crash to the ground in disarray. Kicking them back against the wall and leaving them be. Gazing at the dwindling fire, orange glow illuminating her bronze cheeks, she’d quietly tiptoe over to Miko’s cot. Closing his eyes, he listened as she retucked his blanket over his body up just below his chin, and kissed his temple. Ruffling his hair - Miko always imagined a small, tender smile would be on her lips- she’d softly whisper goodnight. With that and one final kiss, it was back to her and Orphy’s room, finally ready to close her eyes for the night. 

Every night was the same thing- count, stack, fold, kick, kiss, goodnight. Miko had it memorized by heart. He wondered if Orphy had known of Euri’s special habit, but he had a strong suspicion he did. Miko knew from quiet whispers that Euri came from a bad background, filled with trouble and grief. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she thought and carried herself- she was like him. 

Miko hated seeing her like that. The woman that saved him, fed him, fought for him, loved him- so scared and stressed to the point of paranoia over the impending thought of being without food or warmth. It broke his heart. 

He wanted to help her. 

He tried once before, asking her in the dead of night with only the sound of the crackling fire and creaking floorboards if there was something he could do. “Need help Euri? I can count to seventeen. And write tally marks.”

“No, no Miko,” she brushed him off with a wave of her hand. “I can handle this. I’m sorry if I woke you.” Miko watched as her eyes glazed over and her smile became more forced and heavy. Caught like a child with their hands in the cookie jar, her nervous compulsion now out in the open. A distant look full of shame and uneasiness battled with her calm exterior. Miko never asked to her face to help again. 

But he couldn’t leave her. He had to help, needed to. 

So he started small, subtly. He took less and less food at dinner time, walked into the forest while Euri and Orphy were both at work or sleeping and picked up small sticks and broken tree limbs then dragged them back inside their home. He scavenged for food around the town, looking high and low and everywhere in between. Some people took pity on him, thinking he was alone, graciously gifting him spare inklings of fruits, pieces of bread and meal scraps. They were the nice ones. Others chased him off, recognizing him from when he used to steal off their carts. Without fanfare or warning, he’d place his goods on the cupboard shelves and close them tight. And with a smile, he’d quietly listen to the scratch of Euri’s pen each night as she took count each night, the number growing without her knowledge to how.

He was proud of work, he was making his dues. Or so he thought. 

In the dead of winter, the temperatures dipped further and further. Noses dripped, tears spilled from bleary, wind slapped eyes and skin dried and cracked in the frigid weather. Dark gray clouds constantly covered the silver dyed sky, the night seemed to creep up earlier and earlier as the days went by. A blizzard was rumored to pay the upside a visit, which sent the town, and especially Eurydice and Orpheus, into a frenzy. 

“You think he’s fighting with the misses again?”

“I’m sure he and Lady Persephone are fine. If anything, it’s most likely a small disagreement. It’ll pass in no time.” 

They talked in the late hours of the night, not wanting to address their concerns in front of the young child in their possession. Miko listened with keen ears to the hushed whispers of the young couple who sat in the dining table chairs near the fireplace. His body was turned away, playing asleep once more, unable to see their faces. But he could perfectly hear their voices- urgency and fear pooling together with trace amounts of bleeding hope. 

“We won’t have enough firewood.”

“Have faith ‘Rydice, my love. We’ve made it through much worse. We’ll get through this storm together.”

“I’m trying, I just,” Miko heard a sigh, body tensing as he waited with bated breath. “I didn’t think I would be counting another person when I started prepping food and fire for the fall and winter. I’m scared we might not make it.” 

Miko tuned out the rest of the conversation, barely registering the press of warm chapped lips against his cheek and temple. In the endless hours of silence his brain replayed Euri’s words over and over in his brain, “counting for another person,” “I’m scared we might not make it.” “We won’t have enough.” 

Won’t have enough. They won’t have enough. And it was his fault. They would run out of supplies and it would be his fault. They would freeze or starve and it would be all his fault.  All his fault. 

Hot tears streamed down the boy's scarred cheeks. He pressed his hands firmly against his mouth so no sound spill could out into the air and alert the couple. He breathed and let his tears fall.

Pairs of footsteps, one more gentle and subdued from practice than the other, made their way back into their bedroom. As the door shut, Miko wordless made a vow to whatever god would be listening: He wouldn’t let his family suffer because of him. 

There had to be something he was able to do. Time ticked by, the midnight sky turned from a gray-blue to a light, indescribable hue. A stroke of genius struck the boy where he laid. 

Mutedly, Miko crawled out from under his sheets, the cold of the floor chilled his toes. He reached for his hoodie and pants, slipping them on as well as a thick pair of socks, and a matching set of wool mittens and a cap Euri and Orphy bought him at the market. He tiptoed across the room, careful to avoid the loudest boards on the ground. He grabbed his pair of sneakers that were next to the front door and pulled them over his feet. They were old and tarnished but for now, they would do. With a measured pull, he opened the door, a burst of chilly air briskly rushing in to whip against his face, and slipped outside. 

Instantly, the cold nipped at his skin. Stepping out and making his way down the covered path, Miko exhaled and watched as the puff of air visibly disappeared around him. 

As Miko walked down into the forest, he took in the sight around him. The world was covered in white, fat icicles dangled languidly from skinny branches on trees, their weight bending the branches in an unnatural curve. The dull crunch of packed snow crushed under his shoes, the sound ever-pleasing. It was a serene experience, just him and the sound of crunching snow, the distant caw of morning birds and the light shine of the sun behind the clouds, desperate to be seen even just the tiniest bit.

Miko reached the entrance to the forest in a matter of minutes. The snow was beginning to fall from the clouds again. Light and pretty in the morning glow. After a good chunk of time searching for an open clearing, he found an ample area next to a remote cliffside. In no time, being wary of the steep descent next to him, Miko began scrounging around for broken sticks buried under the piles of snow. He picked up a rhythm, brushing away snow with his hands and feet, tossing wet sticks, thick or thin, into a pile behind him. Miko didn’t know how much time had passed, his once meager pile now home to dozens of spare pieces of wood. 

The snow was really coming down now, a fat flurry of flakes landing in his hair and on his clothes, accumulating into inches on top of inches on the frozen ground. “Good enough,” Miko said to no one but himself. He started to gather his work into his hands. The wind began to pick up as the snow fell harder and harder, making it nearly impossible to walk or even see. With slow, cautious steps, he slid his feet through the snow. His toes and fingers numb and vibrating. 

He attempted to march forward but stumbled backward due to the onslaught of wind and icy snow that bit and howled at his face like a rabid dog. Unable to see, he aimlessly trudged around until he felt his foot slip from under him, the ground uneven and dipping. Losing his balance, Miko fell back and tumbling down the snowy hill. 

As he rolled, he felt the endless jabs of sticks and pointed rocks poke and cut his skin, air escaped his lungs. Snow and debris flew around him as he beat against the frozen ground. The sound of pained wails, snapping wood and slapping smacks against snowy hill filled the air, until he finally reached the bottom of the hill, slamming hard right into a tree. 

Miko couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Everything hurt- his head throbbed, stomach groaned and legs felt like jelly. His clothes were soaked and torn and one of his shoes had been ripped off from the fall. 

He needed to get up...but he just couldn’t. 

The snow fell around him, it looked so pretty. Miko’s vision grew white as he stared up to the sky. The sky, the snow, everything was white. 

…

Hades didn’t know why he was out there. Well, that was a lie. He knew why he was up top- him wanting to spend more time with his wife. A sweet gesture of love, that quickly morphed into a bitter argument. Her storming off and him riding on the first train to the upside. 

It started off so innocently, so how did he end up here?

As he walked through the storm, passing through the forest trees, he stewed in his brain. The cold didn’t bother him, never did. It gave him a distraction from his burning heart and raging head. 

He pushed on through the path, stomping down the familiar trail. Then he saw him- a young boy sprawled out, partially covered in a light dusting of snow. His foot, shoeless and sticking out. He wasn’t moving. 

Hades examined the scene in front of him- the child lying at the base of the hill, broken sticks tossed about, shoe missing, small puddles of red that stood out against the white. He took note at the trail of body-shaped prints that went down the side of the hill and easily put two and two together. 

Hades stepped closer to the body, no bones appeared to be broken or missing. He was most likely dead by this point. Another soul for the ever-expanding underworld. He wouldn’t be much help in Hadestown. Hades frowned the pit in his stomach gnawing at the thought of the tiny child fending for himself alone in the sweltering crowds of the underground. 

Suddenly, the boy groaned, startling the god of the dead. “Eu-Euri? Or...phy...” Euri? Orphy… He wasn’t expecting the near-frozen child to be awake and most definitely not coherent. What did he mean by Euri and Or…

No. I couldn’t be. 

With a deep sigh, Hades scooped the boy up into his arms, tucking his shivering body under his coat. His skin was as cold as ice, face bruised and forehead covered in semi-dried blood. Hades wiped at the bits of icy blood that dripped down the sides of the child’s face. “Mista Hermes?”

“No child, I’m not. Now quiet.” Hades turned and began his trek back into town, the wind slowing down in his speed. 

Miko couldn't focus, everything still hazy. He had felt himself get picked up and knew that someone was carrying him somewhere. He threw a name out into the air, a complete shot in the dark. “Hades?” 

The man said nothing. The silence all the confirmation Miko needed. “I...dead?”

“Not yet,” the voice boomed, pushing a stray branch back with his one free hand. It’s quiet between them for another minute until Miko spoke up once more. 

“You okay?” Hades stumbled, feet slipping in the snow. Stupid, insolent child, Hades thought to himself. Why was this boy asking him if he was okay? He was the one lying half-dead outside in the middle of a blizzard. As Hades gathered his bearings with a grunt, the boy began to speak again. “Euri and Orphy...scared you, fighting with...Per, sep...penny.”

“Hush child,” Hades softly commanded, “save your strength.” 

“‘Kay,” Miko weakly whispered, burrowing closer into the god’s chest and fitted suit. No more words were shared as the continued into the storm, footprints disappearing as quickly as the appeared. The outlines of their figures vanishing into the trees and white. 

…

“Where could he have gone?” 

“I don’t know! He was here sleeping when we went to bed!” 

Orpheus and Eurydice were pacing around the house, searching every square inch of the residence. Miko had vanished and the two were panicking. 

“Orpheus, there’s a blizzard going on! What if he’s out there? Lost. And alone,” Eurydice rambled on feverishly, hands frantically pulling at her wild hair. Her thoughts ran wild in wary circles, her doubts creeping in past her guard like an unwelcome house guest. The wind spoke nasty whispers in the dark corners of her mind. 

You lost your boy to the storm.

He’s dead and gone.

Nothing’s left for you to do but mourn.

Orpheus could sense his wife’s downward spiral, “stay calm ‘Rydice-”

“I can’t stay calm! Our kid is missing and he may be out in a snowstorm all alone and I just,” Eurydice fell to her knees, not caring about the bruises her heavy fall most definitely caused. “I don’t know what to do.” She was at a loss. They both were. 

“I’ve been out in a storm like that before,” she added quietly her eyes glued to the floor, not fully talking to Orpheus. “I never want anyone to left out there like that. Especially not him.”

The air between the two froze over, and it wasn’t because of the storm going on outside. They never talked and Hadestown- the trip down, their time there, the way back, or even the storm that caused it all. Despite it being years ago, it still felt too fresh to touch, pulsing and bruised. 

Orpheus joined his wife on the ground, pulling her into a snug hug, her head falling into the crook of his neck. Fresh, salty tears burning his exposed skin. “We’ll find him. I swear we will.” 

They sit there close together, tears flowing from their eyes. Both restless but neither moving away. 

“I’ll go get Mister Hermes,” Orpheus broke out into the quiet, “he’ll probably know what to do. You can look around the area of the house.”

“No, I’ll go get Hermes,” Eurydice said, pulling back from her husband's embrace. “I’m faster and I can search in some areas he could be at.” 

Orpheus nodded, okay with the change of plans. The two got up and hastily put some clothes on. Eurydice rushed out the door in the direction of the bar while Orpheus was still pulling his thick pants over his legs. As he struggled to get his boots on and laced, a harsh knock was heard at the door. It was way too soon to be his wife and Hermes. Miko! 

Orpheus forgot about the boots and rushed to the door. He swung the door open, nearly pulling it off his hinges, “Miko!” 

Orpheus froze. There at his door, was someone he’d thought he’d never see again while still alive and breathing. The king of the underworld himself, “Mister Hades.”

Orpheus was too busy with his eyes locked to the king's face, that he failed to notice the shoeless foot that protruded from the bottom of his overcoat. “Boy.” 

“Wh-why? Why are you,” Orpheus sputtered, unable to form a complete sentence in his shock. 

Hades didn’t signify his stuttering with a response, instead choosing to pull back the coat to reveal the shivering child. 

“Oh gods, Miko!” Orpheus reached out to nab the boy from the god’s hands. The boy was shaking like a leaf, clothes sopping wet and ripped in some areas, bleeding cuts and bruises lined his face, legs, and arms. And one of his shoes was completely missing. The poet rushed further inside to start a fire, wrapping the child in a spare blanket. As his fingers fiddled with the matchbox, Orpheus tried to figure out what to do next. He needed to find the first aid kit, and then get the boy a change of clothes. Maybe he should draw a warm bath? Or start prepping some soup and tea? Or maybe-

“Boy.” Orpheus jumped, mind still reeling. “Finish starting the fire, then draw a bath to warm his body temperature up. I’ll grab a medicine kit.”

Orpheus nodded, awkwardly picking up in speed as his brain slowly comprehended what was being instructed to him. “R-right. Okay.”

The two didn’t move. Hades grew impatient, “the kit boy. Where is it?”

“O-oh! It’s right below the sink in the bathroom. Just over there,” Orpheus pointed down the unlit hall in the direction of the sole bathroom in the house, finally getting his hands to cooperate and a match to ignite. 

Hades walked into the tiny washroom and looked under the sink, dried chips of painted wood peeling off the sides. Just as Orpheus said, there was a white box with a large red cross printed on the cover, the words FIRST AID KIT in big bold letters right underneath. When Hades arrived back into the living room, the fire was burning away in the pit, the temperature in the house already rising. 

“I’m gonna draw Miko a bath,” Orpheus scrambled, hands holding a pair of cotton shorts, a ratty tee that was most definitely too large for the shivering child still half-asleep near the fireplace. “Will you clean him up a bit? I left a towel on the table.” Before Hades could respond, Orpheus was already gone, leaving him alone with the medical supplies and the quiet boy. If it weren’t for the small twitches and occasional sniffles and sneezes, Hades would’ve thought he was a statue. 

The sound of rushing water from the nearby bathroom snapped the god out of his thoughts. With lackadaisical yet gentle movements, he worked on the child, wiping away smeared streaks of blood and dirt from his face, hands and any other exposed area. Digging in the box, Hades found what he was looking for: a see-through bottle of clear rubbing alcohol. He lightly pressed a cloth dosed in the clear liquid to the tender blistering wounds, causing the boy to jump and wince at the stinging feeling that bubbled in his open cuts. 

“Owwie…” Miko squirmed, desperately attempting to inch away from the god and the burning contents of the bottle in his hands. 

Hades cocked an eyebrow, an unamused frown dancing on his lips, “you wish for your injuries to become infected?” Miko shrunk into his seat, shaking his head. His eyes glued to the orange embers that popped in the hearth. “Then sit still,” Hades answered sternly, focusing back at his task at hand, “the pain will subside soon.” 

The continue on in silence. No words needed to be said. Just the sound of the occasional quiet winces, the popping of the fire burning away and the distant sound of water running into their old, tiny tub. Suddenly, as Hades was finishing up with cleaning up the boy’s cuts, a large crash of the front door being slammed open rang out into the home. The sound of furious footsteps approaching brought Miko and Hades’ eyes over to the direction of the entryway. 

They heard her voice before the saw her body, “Orpheus! I told Hermes and he said he’d be right over, he’d just have to shut the bar down first.” The young woman of the house, covered in a dusting of powdery-white snow, rushed into the living area, her face frightened and erratic. She whipped her head around the room. Instead of being greeted by the familiar frame of her husband, she was met with a sight that shocked her eyes: Hades and Miko. The latter, covered in puffy cuts and bruised skin, being treated by the god who was fiddling with a first aid kit. 

“Miko…” Eurydice said slowly as if he was merely a mirage that would disappear if she spoke too quickly. 

“Euri,” he said softly, eyes and body desperate to be closer to the woman. 

She gasped, cupping her hands over her quivering mouth. While relief flooded her bones, there was a tenseness she just couldn’t ease. She’d never thought she’d be this close the god of the dead again. Not ever since the Hadestown experience. Yet, here he was, in her and her family’s home crouched down in her front of her adopted son. “Miko!” She cried rushing over the boy in a frenzy.

“His injuries are mostly treated at this point- nothing too extensive, just cuts and a few bad bruises. Maybe even a concussion, but I highly doubt that. 

Eurydice scooped the child up from his seat and held him in her arms. She pulled him close to her chest, twisted her body so her side not holding Miko was facing Hades, trying to keep Miko as far away from the god as possible. “Don’t touch him!”

“Eu-euri?” Miko whispered concerned, voice raspy and coarse as if he’d gargled a bucket of nails. His head laid against the base of her neck, coughing harshly into her chilled skin. 

Eurydice gently pats the boy’s back in an unintentional one-two rhythm. She locked eyes with the god standing near the fireplace, “why are you here?” her voice stiff and sharp as steel. Hades paid no mind to the edge in her voice or the suffocating tension plaguing the air, instead, continuing his efforts to pack up the medical supplies back into the first aid bag. Shifting a bottle, pushing back a box of bandages, removing pearl-colored tape and putting it back in. As the seconds ticked by, Eurydice burned hotter and hotter. Her anger and frustration melting in a scalding pool ready to boil over at any time. “Hades-”

“Your Poet is running him a bath,” the god pointed over to the hall where the musician had disappeared down, minutes ago. “Don’t know what’s holding him up so long.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Eurydice huffed, her patience a thin line of wire, itty bitty strands pulling and snapping one by one. “Why are you here, in our home? Why is my child hurt?”

“If you would stop acting like an impudent child and let me explain my reasoning maybe you would get your answer,” Hades growled lowly, eyes and face squinting and scrunching at the young woman’s tone. 

“I won’t let you take him,” Eurydice said fiercely. It burned, everything burned- her words, the heat, the ever-growing tension, her uneasy nerves. “I won’t you take Miko down there.”

“Is that what you think is happening?” Hades asked gruffly, his voice rising, echoing off the walls. He stepped closer causing Eurydice to step back. They continue their dance; every inch forward led to another two back. “You think I came here to collect him and ship him out to the mines?”

“Don’t act so surprised, that’s what you do, isn’t it?” Eurydice countered back just as forceful. Her brown irises, fiery hot and staring right into the god’s. “You promise them the things they crave, and since they’re desperate and naive, we fall for it.” Eurydice’s chest rose and fell at an accelerated pace, eyes wild and dazed- a wounded animal looking for a clearing to charge through. She didn’t realize she started to include her in her phrasing.

“I wake up and find my kid gone in the middle of a winter blizzard and come back to see you here and him half dead! So, I’m sorry if I’m jumping to conclusions.”

Just then, Orpheus came stumbling back into the living area, “alright, the bathwater is read...Eurydice?” He pushed forward, barely noticing the heavy tenseness permeating the space. “What’s going on?”

“Why is he in our house?” Eurydice pressed, turning her body fully away from the suited man. Confusion and desperation dripping from every word as she marched closer to her husband's side.

“Boy, tell your girl that she’s got everything wrong,” Hades commanded, passing the medical kit roughly into Orpheus’ hands. He brushed down the crumpled wrinkles in his suit and fixed his tie, standing straight and imposing. He was a God after all.

“Mister Hades found Miko ‘Rydice,” the poet said softly, hazel pools meeting his wife’s blazing brown. He reached out with his one open hand and placed it on Eurydice’s shoulder, the fabric soaked from the wet snow. “He brought him home.” 

Eurydice felt as she had been struck in the back by a pipe. Her body feeling hot yet cold all at once. “Is, is that...true?”

“It’s true…” The three adults jumped at the extra voice and glanced down at the child Eurydice tucked to her chest. His teal eyes cloudy, struggling to stay open and alert. “I saw you,” he spoke up again. “In the kitchen every night. And the fireplace, counting wood. You look so sad,” he trailed off. Streams of tears fell from his shimmering sockets, “you and Orphy were scared we’d run out. Sad and scared. My fault..had to find more and then…”

Miko coughed, body jerking from the hacks. He closed his eyes, “I sorry, Euri. I wanna make you happy again. I so sorry.” Miko felt hot drops of water fall on his skin. He peeled open his eyes once more to see Eurydice struggling to hold back her sobs. Her face scrunched, bottom lip bloody red and caught in between her teeth. “Euri?”

“I’m sorry.” Miko was at a loss. “I’m so sorry, Miko. This wasn’t your fault, I-” She wrapped the boy even tighter in her arms as if he would evaporate into thin air if she lessened her grip. She wouldn’t let the tears fall. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I found him buried under a coat of falling snow at the bottom of a remote cliff. There were splotches of blood and tree limbs scattered all around, must’ve fallen from the top,” Hades cut in, crossing his arms in unamused disdain. “I thought he was dead.”

Eurydice’s shoulders sagged, from relief, her boy wouldn’t be taken from her. From guilt and sadness that she’d jumped so quickly to a rash and horrid conclusion. Her heart struggled to slow, each labored breathe seemingly getting stuck in her throat. Her brain fought tooth and nail to process everything that was happening, every word being spoken, every action occurring around her. Hades, Miko, he...he brought Miko home? She raised her head to address the god she had just minutes ago called out for attempting to steal her child away, “I, I’m-” 

Miko let out a small sneeze, his nose a bright red bulb, beads of sweat beating down his forehead. “Get him to the bath,” Hades nodded at the shivering boy cradled in Eurydice’s arms. “The earlier you try and break that fever, the better.”

“But-”

Hades raised his hand, silencing the woman’s attempt at a rebuttal, “all’s forgiven and forgotten, Songbird.”

Eurydice opened her mouth once more, words like little spiders tingled on her tongue, desperately aching to crawl out. But nothing escaped. So, she silently nodded and walked away, taking a few steps but stopping before disappearing behind the corner into the dark. “I’m sorry, for what I said,” she said softly, genuine. “Thank you, for what you did. And for bringing him home.” Then they were gone, the sound of the bathroom door opening then snapping shut filling the two men’s ears. 

Snow fell outside the window, gentle and light. The clouds parting and rays of bright beaming light came down, reflecting off the white snowbanks. “Storms broke,” Hades said out loud, not directly addressing the poet standing a few feet away from him. “I’ll be taking my leave.”

“O-oh, okay,” Orpheus sputtered, setting the first aid kit he was still carrying, down on the old wooden table. 

Hades, with perfect strides, marched over to the family’s front door. With a twist and pull, he yanked open the door, a stream of light blaring into the house, climbing the walls and silhouetting both of their bodies. “Boy.”

“Yes, Mister Hades, sir?” 

“I better not find any more loved ones of yours out in any more storms. Next time, I won’t be as gracious,” He peered over to Orpheus, face stiff and eyes hard, “do I make myself clear?”

Orpheus lowered his head and nodded, “yes.” 

“Okay.” Hades took four steps out the door, boots leaving a perfect trail of prints in the ground. He paused, back still facing the young man’s, “soup with lots of garlic.”

Orpheus raised his head, tilting it slightly, “what?”

“It’ll help with the cold.” Without any further explanation, he took off into the wave of white, all that’s left of his being is his trail of prints. 

…

“Well brother, you’re looking good. Redecorate the office area since I’ve last been here?”

“What can I help you with, Hermes?” the god of the underworld sighed, not looking up from his stacks of unfinished paperwork. 

The office space was wide and virtually empty of any personal, sentimental items. Dark, embellished curtains were drawn over the titanic window in the middle of the left wall, the view of what was left of the expansive mines and factory tucked away. Every object on his matching bookshelves and paper on his desk was neatly stacked and pristinely placed. The ‘redecorating’ Hermes mentioned was the replacement of the portrait that hung above the desk. The painted portrait of Hades, that once loomed over the office with a hefty, intense stare, had been switched. The King was no longer alone. A new painting, Hades and Persephone, side by side with no space in between, hung in its place instead. The green of her dress and the colorful flowers weaved into her hair added a nice hint of light to the room.

Hermes chuckled and closed the office door. “No time for small talk, I see.”

“I have important business to attend to.”

Hermes shrugged, “I’ll only be here a moment. Just have an important message to deliver you, then I’ll be on my way.”

Hades put down his pen and raised an eyebrow, “what is it?”

“From someone on the upside who made me promise to give this to you as soon as possible.” In his midst, Hermes held an envelope. He passed it over to Hades waiting hand- it was off-white in color and partially crinkled in some areas. There was no evident address or stamp to be found, no clue for the god to piece together the mysterious sender. Hades squinted but the messenger god just winked and headed to the door. “Well, I’ll be taking my leave. Got business myself I need to take care of back up top.” With a flash, he was gone leaving Hades to his lonesome.

With a careful slide of his letter opener, he tore into the envelope’s flesh and pull out its sole contents: a folded piece of paper. 

Pulling back each fold, Hades glanced down at the paper- a drawing. More specifically, a drawing of him, holding the Poet and Songbird’s boy in his arms. The backdrop of falling snow surrounded them. At the bottom of the paper in what could graciously be called handwriting or less nicely chicken scratch was a short message: Thank U Mista Hades! Miko! punctuated with a small red heart. Some letters backward and barely legible. 

It was a crude thing, obviously done by a child’s hand. Scribbles outside of lines, unrealistic color choices and proportions, he was smiling in it for gods sake! 

“Mr. Hades, sir,” a hesitant soul wandered into his office, poking their head through the minuscule crack. “Your wife is calling for you.”

“Give me one moment, I must attend to something important first.”

The worker nodded and backed out the door, shutting it as they went. Hades turned back to the drawing that laid stagnant on his desk. He pulled open a drawer and scrounge around searching for a certain item. There! He pulled out a roll of tape and ripped off a long piece. Then two. Done.

He stepped back from his handy work and silently marveled. There, on the wall, a messy picture of the God of the underworld holding a small child in the falling snow, a cheeky grin painted on his face. Hades’ mouth morphed into an uncharacteristic smile, tiny but still present. He spun on his heels and walked out the door, turning the lights off as he went. The faces of him, his wife and the small child he’d slowly come to appreciate, watching over him as he shut the door. 

...

[moo-deps]

Sweet Flavour - PJM

Pairing: Park Jimin x reader (you)

Genre: Smut / Fluff

Summary: You come home to Jimin touching himself, you take the matter into your hands mouth to slowly go down on him to help him out. 

Word count: 2,800 words

Warnings: sexually explicit content, oral (male receiving), licking, hickeys and biting (lowkey)

AN: This one-shot is an ode to Jimin’s beautiful body which I think we should worship 💕. Comments and pieces of advice are always welcome. 

For the first time since you were dating, Jimin was the one alone in your apartment waiting for you to come back from work. At first, he found things to occupy himself with like doing the dishes after breakfast, doing the laundry and cleaning up a bit. As the day progressed, he grew bored of being alone and when the third afternoon romantic film began to play on the second channel, he started to imagine you as the lead female character of the story. Which led to him actually fantasizing about you in general. The movie was soon forgotten as he was working himself up with his hand on his hard cock, erotic images of you flooding his mind. And yet, he couldn’t come.

He heard the keys jingling as you opened and shut your front door. Jimin could hardly stop from touching himself in time before you entered your living room. He lamely tried to cover himself up with a cushion before you had time to look at him. 

“Hi baby, how was your…”, you trailed off as you approached him on the sofa. “What are you doing?”

Jimin couldn’t look up at you, too embarrassed to do so. He was panting, his sweaty hair plastered on his forehead. His sport short were hanging really low on his hips while his right hand was covered by the cushion. Even a blind person could understand what he had been doing. You hadn’t been dating for a long time and he was afraid that you might find it disgusting. Jimin felt the sofa sinking a bit on his right as you sat down beside him. He still refused to turn his head towards you. 

“Baby,” you called again softly nudging his shoulder, “it’s fine, you don’t have to be embarrassed.” He could hear the teasing tone in your voice. He finally turned his head to face you but took his time to look up at you. You were biting your lower lip trying to make the joking grin on your face disappear. But you failed miserably as you let out a loud laugh. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” Jimin complained as he looked down feeling his whole face turning red of shame. 

“I am sorry, it’s just the face you’re making!” you tried to explain as you calmed your laugh down. “Okay, news flash: I touch myself too when I am alone.” To that, Jimin turned back his head to you with a shy smile.

“But you don’t get caught.” he said with a defeated tone. 

“That’s because I have more experience in the whole ‘staying home alone’ thing.”

You leaned forward to press a loving peck on his cheek, Jimin humming in response to the warm contact of your lips on his skin. You stayed a moment with your forehead resting on his temple, one hand playing with his still damped hair at his nape. Jimin leaned against your touch that he had been craving for all day, almost forgetting the not so innocent actions he had engaged into before you arrived. 

“Do you want me to help?” you then ask in a breathy tone, mouth over his ear. Your words traveled Jimin’s body from his ear to his cock that he had eventually let go of. An unabashed moan escaped his lips before he nodded eagerly. You smile against his ear before taking his jaw gently with your fingers to turn his head completely to yours. You locked your lips with his for a slow yet deepening kiss. Jimin let you take the upper hand as you brush your tongue on his lips before he allowed you to explore his mouth with it. He let out a groan as he felt your fingernails scraping his scalp lightly as you continued to kiss him deeply. Jimin broke the kiss to get some air before reattaching your lips together for an even more feverish one. You were the one to let go of his lips this time as you move back a little from him. Jimin looked at you questioningly as your eyes couldn’t seem to stay connected with his. 

“What is it?” he asked gently while his hand met your cheek to stroke it lovingly, knowing all too well when you were hesitant to tell him something.

“Can I… Can I lead this time?” you inquired cautiously without looking at him. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Fuck.” Jimin whimpered as he felt his dick twitch against his thigh. In the short time you had been together, you had always been the most shy about anything intimate. You rarely voiced any desire, always following Jimin’s lead when it came to sex. 

“Was that a yes?” you asked with a shy smile, chewing on your cheek expectantly. 

“Yes, that was a fucking big yes. Help yourself love.” Jimin replied panting as the idea of you taking things into your hands was exciting him more than he would have imagined. 

You chuckled with a triumphant smile before kissing him again, more tenderly this time. Jimin settled his hands on your waist without guiding you in any sort, letting you take your time to explore, with delicate fingers, his hair then his jaw, his throat and neck, and then his shoulder and torso. He watched with adoring eyes and complete surrender as you grabbed the hem of his shirt to remove it from his body and tossed it on the floor. He didn’t miss how your hands trailed on his chest before heading to his abs and finally to his lower abdomen, earning a deep groan from Jimin when you sent the caushion hiding his hard-on to floor along with his top. He nudged you to straddle him so he could feel more of you on his body, but you shook your head no.

“It’s the wrong week of the month for me.” you explained with a pout. Jimin knew that you usually didn’t enjoy any kind of physical contact when on your periods. “Let’s make it all about you.”

Another high pitched whimper escaped Jimin’s throat at your words, not believing how selfless you were being. He let his head fall on the back of the couch, lips parted as his breathing started to quicken in anticipation of what you had in store for him. You kissed his jaw briefly before nipping at his throat for a bit, but settled for the crook of his neck to suck there thoroughly. It was all tongue and teeth for awhile on this particular zone and Jimin knew without looking that you were drawing a hickey on his skin. He also knew that his staff would scold him for it as it was way too high on his neck to be covered by a shirt alone. The thought made him smile. A harsher bite from you brought him back to the present moment. He hissed at the pleasurable pain and goosebumps traveled throughout his body. 

“Sorry” you whispered as you chose his collarbone as your next stop for your mouth. 

“Don’t be, that feels amazing,” Jimin reassured you as he brought a hand at the back of your head to massage you gently. “You feel amazing.”

Encouraged by his word, you began a slow but steady descent on him. First a suck on his hard nipple which had Jimin moaning loudly, the massaging turning into a tight grip in your hair. Then a lick between every one of his ribs in a vain attempt to calm his breathing down, he was a panting mess above you and his hand went loose on your strands. He had never seen you this focus on his body before which made his ego burst and his cock as hard as ever. And you hadn’t even touched him there once yet. 

As your mouth went down on Jimin, so did your body. When you reached his abs you were on the floor in front of him. You made a new lengthy pause there, kissing the muscles of his abdomen with utter care. You sucked and licked right below his navel, you were the one moaning this time. Everytime he contracted his abs under your touch, a light groan was leaving your mouth and you were sucking his skin even more. When Jimin understood that this was as pleasurable for him than it was for you, he started playing with his muscles on purpose. And soon another purplish stain appeared on his skin, this one Jimin would be able to keep to himself, he thought. Satisfied, you licked it goodbye and sunk further in his pelvic area, still working with your lips, teeth and tongue, until you reached his hip bone. 

You kissed that new spot gently and nuzzled his skin while inhaling his scent. Jimin was now going crazy above you, squirming, twitching, tossing, doing anything that would give him any type of contact between you and his painfully hard cock. You laughed at his antics as you remove his shorts and briefs from him and started to kiss along his thigh, showing no sign on aiming towards where Jimin wanted you. At that realization, he desperately thrust his hips upwards in the air to create a friction of any kind on his throbbing member. In vain. You paused your travel on his thigh, drawing circles with your thumbs on his hips to calm him down. 

“Patience, baby.” you asked, connecting your eyes with Jimin’s for the first time since you last kissed him. 

“But I need you there now!” he childishly urged you, bringing on the best pouty face he could master. Big puppy eyes, eyebrows raised, lower lip exaggeratedly stretched out and the head tilt to the side slightly. And yet you remained unfazed by his ultimate weapon. Externally that is. You were actually screaming inside, wanting to give him the world if he needed. You were the first one surprise by your cold exterior. You didn’t know where all your patience came from as usually you would have just gone straight for his cock to pleasure him under his guidance. But you were enjoying this newly discovered little act of yours and wanted to make it last a little longer. Having your boyfriend physically begging for your touch felt empowering. 

“Maybe, but I’ll go there when I decide to.” you sternly answered his plea, which made him whimper even more. 

Your attention went back to his delicious thigh. You loved the contrast between his firm muscle on the top of it and the tender flesh in the inner part. While you caressed the toned area, you attacked his soft skin directly with your teeth as close as possible to his groin, taking care of not actually touching his erected cock. Every exhalation from Jimin turned into a moan as you were working on giving him a third hickey, on a much more sensitive part this time. You lifted your gaze upon to see Jimin’s head completely tilted back against the couch, eyes closed, one hand in his hair, the other gripping his untouched thigh with force. He wanted to touch himself so badly but wanted to respect your desire to lead him to his high. You felt a bit bad for him for not giving him what he wanted. 

You finally left his thigh and readjusted yourself on your knees in front of him to look at his member for the first time. This position always seemed kind of intimidating to you, often feeling powerless kneeling in front of a man’s fully erected pride. But right now not so much as all the tension in Jimin’s body was the result of all of your work on the rest of his body. Your smile was held as proud as his red, already leaking cock. When you blew some air on it, you thought that Jimin would come right away. His body jerked immediately forward, almost throwing you to the ground, his head violently coming back up to look at you with lustful eyes, his hair was all over the place. 

“Please, please, please…” he begged, a hand attaching with your hair to nudge you forward. 

You laughed slightly at his distressed state. You kissed his wrist to tell him that the teasing was over, feeling his alarming rapid pulse on your lips. His whole body was strangely relaxed under you for a second when your leaned forward to take a first lip on the head of his cock, tasting the precum that was leaking. Jimin let out strangled noises, you were not sure if they were just moans or if he wanted to tell you something. You took the base of his dick in your hand to make it more comfortable for you before engulfing as much of him in your mouth as you could. Jimin thrust his hip at the same time, not able to control himself any longer under the long awaited pleasure you were giving him. His hand in your hair orienting your head so you could fit more of him in your mouth. 

“More, more!” he chanted, head thrown back again. You tried not to gag as you took him down again, coating his member with saliva to ease the sliding in your mouth. Your hand latched on his cock was pumping the part that couldn’t fit in your mouth. You did your best to instaure a rhythm that was pleasurable for him, twirling your tongue on the head of his cock every time it slid outside of your mouth. It seemed that your were doing a pretty great job hearing the words and loud moans of encouragement coming from Jimin’s mouth, his hand still firm in your hair. 

“I’m close.” he announced breathlessly as the thrusts of his hips became erratic, even though he was doing his best not to be too rough on your mouth. You hummed on his cock in response, feeling it twitched inside your mouth. A few more licks, thrusts and moans, and he was coming on your tongue and down your throat, surprising you a bit as you had never let him do that before. You swallowed his cum as best as you could while he rode out his orgasm in your mouth, his hand keeping your head steady. 

He then let go of your hair while your mouth let go of his softening sex. You admired the heavy breathing and sweating masterpiece that you made, completely satisfied with your work. You ignore the aching and wetness of your core which went unnoticed until now. You rose tiredly on your feet, your knees hurting a bit, and sat back down on your original place beside Jimin. You nestled your head on his shoulder, one hand back on his nape, the other caressing his chest to soothe his panting breathing. 

“That was incredible.” Jimin complimented in a sigh, finally coming down from his high, making you smile shyly. He kissed your jaw lovingly several times to apologize for the uncontrolled thrusts of his hips. He held you close to his chest with an arm around your waist. “I can’t wait to see more of you in charge.”

“Really?” you asked sincerely concerned about your performance. 

“Definitely.” Jimin replied with certainty and a warm smile. “How many days left?” he asked as he tapped your lower belly gently.

“Three, why?”

“Okay, in three days I’m making it up to you.” Jimin assured before leaving small kisses on the top of your head. “I didn’t know you had a thing for biting though.” he added after a pause, the smirk evident on his voice.

“Are you blaming me? Your skin tastes just too good.” You nuzzled further into the crook of his neck as you traced the purple stain below his navel. “And I love your tummy.”

Jimin giggled as your soft touch drew new goosebumps on his bare skin. He grabbed the plaid that was hanging on the other side of the couch to cover you both, his attention going back to the TV, that stayed on the whole time completely ignored, while he started to draw random patterns with his fingers on your hip. 

“That looks like the sequel of the other film.” Jimin explained.

“What was the other film about?”

“Don’t really know, I started thinking about you and, you know, you decided to lick me up and down as if I was some sort of ice cream.” 

“Stop it, you loved it.” you cooed after hitting him playfully on the chest. 

Jimin bit his lips not to talk, settling for a simple smile instead. Three little words threatening to come out of his mouth but he couldn’t brace himself to spell them, not quite yet.

[crewhonk]

...Of The Line (1)

A series collaboration with @nomadsgrogers where she writes for Giovanna as the reader! We’re just projecting onto our writing, its FINE

Series Summary: Steve watches YN Banner grow up before his eyes– from a shy, dorky sixteen-year-old to a fierce, brilliant woman who never fails to keep him on his toes. He knows that she’s untouchable, but that doesn’t stop him from being completely wrapped around her finger for the rest of his long life.

Series Warnings: Mutual Pining, age gap, gun use, these two are idiots– seriously they’re so dumb, slow burn, injuries

Pairings: eventual Steve Rogers X Banner!Reader, eventual Buky Barnes X OC!Stark

Chapter Summary: YN says goodbye to her best friends and watches as the events of The Winter Soldier go down. YN visits her best people in the hospital. 

Words: 4.1K

@nomadsgrogers version >> (” Till the End...”) Introduction

“... Of The Line” Masterlist

_________________

2014, two years later

Eventually, Giovanna had left to join Natasha and Steve in their work with SHEILD in Washington about a year after Natasha and Steve had initially left. They had come back for a short reprieve from work and were set off to go work to save lives again— 361 kilometres away. Giovanna had called it her first real mission as an Avenger while both YN and Tony had called it bullshit and begged her to stay. YN was never much for goodbyes— moped around for days until she found herself showered and in the lab. A bad habit that Giovanna critiqued her about.

“You really don’t have to leave, you know.” YN frowned, pulling her best friend into a hug and burying her face into her neck. Giovanna drew circles between the middle of her shoulder blades and stayed silent until YN pulled away and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Natasha joined the group of girls and pulled YN under her wing, kissing her temple and hugging her close. Nat had since bonded with the two younger women, now on the cusp of nineteen, taking them under her wing and training them when she could— watching movies and laughing long into the night when she was able.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Natasha’s suave, carefully selected speech patterns disappeared around the two girls— something that rarely ever happened. “I could really use a hand keeping Captain Bad Idea in line,” Natasha smirked and YN rolled her eyes and laughed, refusing to let the sudden heat blossoming on her face stop her from functioning like it usually did.

Steve Rogers had grown on her— he had become something less like a celebrity crush in 2012 to something deeper. Her adoration for the man had rooted in her lungs, constricting her breathing until it seemed she would never be able to breathe again.

Not to be dramatic.

But it was true that the two had become closer. They trained together, ate together, watched shitty 80’s movies until the crack of dawn and then crashed on separate end of the same couch together. They kept touching to a minimal— an unspoken rule between the two which only caused for a rock in the progress of relationship building. Both, as the team knew, were very needy with touch and it only seeded the idea that the other person felt no real romantic interest in the other. That, and Steve’s consistent fear of making her crumble under his hands— young and fragile and too good for him.

YN’s eyes flickered over to where Steve was chatting with Tony and Bruce softly, allowed her eyes to rake over his appearance once, very quickly and then smiled back to her girls.

“I think you’ll be fine. You got Blind Enthusiasm over there to help you.” She nodded her chin towards Giovanna who seemed affronted at her statement.

“Hey! I’m not Blind Enthusiasm. Maybe Sassy Regret.” Giovanna pulled both Natasha and YN into her arms and squeezed them both close. Their foreheads touched for a few seconds before she pulled away and let her hand rest on YN’s cheek.

“Don’t blow anything up while I’m gone,” Giovanna warned.

“It’s no fun without you.” YN winked back, finishing their classic statement goodbye— uttered mostly when one left for coffee runs or actually went to bed at a time which humans usually did.

“Wanna say goodbye to him?” Natasha’s eyes flicked over to Steve who was watching them. YN’s eyes locked with his own and she shot Steve a small smile, raising her hand and giving a shy wave. Giovanna scoffed quietly to herself, toeing the ground with her sneakers at the innocent move.

Behind closed doors, YN rarely had a filter on the topic of Steve Rogers. Hashing out everything she wanted him to do to her and everything she wanted to do to him, sometimes in such great detail even Natasha, when she was able to join, would blush. Now, in the midst of that same man, YN was reduced to a blushing, quiet sixteen-year-old version of herself.

YN was like a pit bull raised in a good family— her bark was most certainly worse than her bite.

“Nah. We already said goodbye.” YN smiled, looking away from Steve who seemed to be less than keen on doing the same. Giovanna and Natasha’s identical smirks dropped at the very same time.

“Okay, great. We’re going to have a FaceTime session tonight and you’re going to spill everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every. Single. Thing.”

______________________

The tower was lonely without the chaos that ensued during the previous three and a half years, all due to the rapidly advancing education that was YN Banner and Giovanna Stark’s life. There were no crashes from the lab on the 52nd floor, as YN was played out on the couch, uninspired and bored out of her mind at one in the morning. She had been throwing up a stress ball into the air, catching it all the while glaring at the holograms on the table in front of her. When the hologram flickered for the third time in ten seconds she growled and threw the stress ball at it, eyes flashing neon green only briefly.

“Woah! Squish, you okay?” Bruce exclaimed, walking around the table and rubbing the spot on his forehead where the ball had collided. YN muttered an apology as her dad sat down next to her, watching the diagram of a blood cell rotate in front of them.

“Been better.” She mumbled, taking the stress ball back from her father and digging her nails into it. Both Bruce and Big Guy took notice, and they were equally concerned.

“What’s goin’ on?” He tried. He was usually wonderful at this father-ing schtick but ever since he had left when she was only sixteen, she had become increasingly independent. Now almost twenty, she was a full adult and Bruce had no idea where he belonged anymore.

“I just— God. I want to think I’m a grown up. I want to think I’m independent from other people and can function without another person but I don’t think I can do that. I’ve always had you and when I didn’t I’ve always had Gio and Natasha and Steve and Tony. I’m no good alone.” YN ranted, tears welling in her eyes and Bruce could feel his heart melting and breaking both at the same time.

“You don’t have to be alone, you know. Humans are social creatures. We don’t do well alone. We’re meant to be in packs and we’re meant to have those social bonds. Independence for us in the wild usually means death— in modern times it just sometimes means everything short of that.” Bruce hummed and he wrapped his arm around his baby girls shoulders. She sniffed into his neck and wiped tears away from her eyes.

“But Gio’s independent. So are Steve and Natasha and I don’t get why I can’t be like that.” Her voice was thick as she spoke.

“Because you’re you. You don’t have to be like them. There’s no shame in leaning on people, you know.” He mumbled and Big Guy seemed to agree, chest rumbling in agreement. There was as silence before YN’s quiet voice rang out loud and clear.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, right, Papa?”

Bruce’s heart skipped a beat and he pulled her closer, squishing her to his chest and blinking back tears.

“I’ll stay right here just as long as you want me to, okay?”

“Okay.”

Another Pause.

“Wanna help me try to figure out our blood?”

____________________

It was a week before ‘Tonights’ FaceTime could take place, as both Natasha and Giovanna had been swept up in the life and work of SHEILD. It was seven at night when YN’s phone rang by her side, laptop on her lap in bed playing “The 100”. The phone chimed, and YN in all of her excitement nearly launched her computer from her legs in her hurry to answer it.

“Hi!” She said excitedly, shutting her laptop and pulling her covers closer to her chest. On her screen were her best friends, faces squished together and smiling so widely. The flush on Giovanna’s cheeks was a telltale sign they were at least a glass and a half into their wine.

“Baby girl!” Giovanna almost squealed, and YN’s heart clenched. Oh, how she had missed the Stark energy because sure, Tony had it all but there was nothing like seeing it in jammed into a 5’3 Italian firecracker of a girl.

“How’s Washington? Oh my gosh, have you met Obama yet? What about Michelle? Are her arms as magnificent as they look in pictures?” YN rushed, and the two girls laughed.

“Washington is good! It’s too vanilla for my taste.” Giovanna replied and Natasha said something about how it was because the sewer rats were the closest things she ever got to owning a pet.

“No, we haven’t met any of the Obama’s either.” Natasha quelled YN’s thirst for the First Family and YN sat back in mock disappointment.

“Well, then what’re you even doing there?” The others laughed at her response before they both lost their excited exterior. It would never fail to impress YN how in sync Giovanna and Natasha were at almost all times.

“So, don’t think we forgot, little lamb.” Natasha chastised and YN rolled her eyes, before getting up and grabbing a bottle of wine from her wine cooler hidden in the back of her closet. No way was she explaining her and Steve’s goodbye while sober. No, ma’am.

She raised the bottle to her lips and wiped her hand across her mouth.

“What d’you wanna know?” YN resigned herself to what she could picture as hours worth of interrogation.

“Everything.”

____________________

It was the night before the team was about to leave for Washington. Giovanna had already left the common room under the guise of packing, allowing for Steve and YN to have a few hours to themselves under the glow of the city lights streaming through the windows and the television.

Steve could feel his hands clamming up. Sure, he had been alone with YN countless times before, but it was only on his visit back did he notice that YN had grown up. Long gone were her puberty curves. There was that same trademark Banner softness to her, but he didn’t miss the way that her shirt clung to rigid muscle when she was straining herself in the gym. He didn’t miss the lines of her calf and thigh muscles whenever she wore those tight black shorts that made his head spin. He didn’t miss the curl of her wild hair or how her eyes seemed to droop in a way that made his heart stutter whenever she looked at him.

He had been alone with YN before, countless times. She never failed to make him feel like a 16-year-old kid in Brooklyn, though.

“You know, I’m really gonna miss nights like these.” She said, curling into the cushion of the couch and pulling her blanket to her chin— comfort habit, he had learned.

“Whatd’ya mean?” He asked, suddenly not at all interested in the movie playing in front of them. He knew this was an iconic 90’s movie but he couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve YN.

“You and me all curled up. I mean, come on. Showing movies to Captain America for the first time?” She giggled sleepily at his eye roll.

“As if I care about it, honestly.” He mirrored her position, facing her and leaning on the back of the couch.

“Why don’t you care about it? Clueless is one of the best movies out there.” YN tried to sound offended, but she couldn’t find it in herself to sound anything but nervous and breathy. Steve’s eyes were drooping, fighting hard to stay awake and watching her with a softness he rarely showed anyone. In some wild, delusional state, she could almost believe what Giovanna and Natasha told her— that he could come to love someone like her.

“Not my type.” He muttered, forcing himself to keep his hands from reaching out and placing them on her bare arms. God, all he wanted to do was run the back of his knuckles over her skin. Wanted to make goosebumps erupt all over her body. Wanted to make her suck in a breath and look at him through those innocent, peering eyes.

Steve kept his hands to himself.

“What is your type?” She whispered, and his heart climbed violently up his throat. He coughed once to get it back to where it belonged and when that didn’t work, he pulled away farther from her. He couldn’t— she was too young and good and pure and everything he would ruin.

He wouldn’t ruin YN Banner.

“We should get you to bed, okay, Sugar?” He said, glancing absently at the time before rising slowly to his feet. He wanted nothing more than to curl up against her, soak her in enough for him to survive the next few months away. He stopped himself, however, filling his arms with blankets and pillows and waiting for her to stand and join him.

She almost looked disappointed he didn’t help her. Definitely looked disappointed he was ending the night.

She only nodded, however, and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders like a cape, following him to the elevator in silence and riding up in silence. Only speaking again when they reached her floor. She stepped out, turning around and placing her hand on the door so it wouldn’t close on her. She was quiet for a time, trying her very best to memorize the way blue skin had found a home in the inner corners of his eyes. How the left side of his nose was just a little crooked. Remember the cleft of his chin and the swell of his bottom lip. She sniffed and nodded and stepped back.

“I’ll miss you, grandpa. Don’t know who I’ll make old people jokes about anymore.” She forced a playful smile over her tired face and he mirrored it.

They were both so close, but so, so far away.

“I’ll miss you, Sweetheart. Don’t know who’s gonna make you get to bed in time for your afternoon nap.”

“Guess you’ll have to come back soon, then.”

Then, the elevator door slid shut with a quiet ‘ding’.

______________________

YN had thought them to be dead. Nick, Steve, Natasha, and Giovanna killed in a gun battle in the middle of Washington. She had thought them dead until she got the call. It was Tony who called, half out of his mind with worry but voice dripping with relief.

“They’re alive, YN. News— look at the news.” She listened to her uncle, ran down the hall of her floor to the common room with television in it and flicked on the channel. Sure, Tony may have been only five floors away, but she was suddenly very familiar with the feeling of her legs and arms and heart going numb.

The flashing red at the bottom screen told her this was live. Large hellicarriers armed to the teeth were falling on Washington, a collection of live footage from the news crews and videos from Twitter streaming on the screen, and YN cried out when a rather shaky video caught sight of Giovanna, fighting, yelling, bleeding through her uniform but alive. YN let out a dry sob and leaned forward on her knees, putting her head in her hands and crying into them despite the lack of tears streaming from her eyes.

Then, when she looked back, she saw him. Angry, and scared and like Giovanna, bleeding but very much alive. He looked to be running— chasing after someone who was singlehandedly taking out an entire SHEILD battalion.

She didn’t care. Her guys were alive.

________________________

The quinjet ride to Washington was only half an hour, but both YN and Tony could have sworn it would have been easier to walk themselves. The jet landed on the roof of the hospital and she sprinted side by side with Tony down the stairs, bursting through the doors of the VIP section the hospital had closed off.

Large men in combat greens were lining the hallways, guns on their shoulders and there was an eerie silence in the hallway.

“Ms. Stark is in room 567, Captain Rogers is in the room next to her— 569.” The nurse, nervous and excited at the sight of the Tony Stark in her own hospital making her voice higher than usual.

“I need— I’m sorry.” He whispered once they got to the rooms and YN rolled her eyes, pushing him towards his daughters' room.

“Go, we got all day. I’m gonna go see Steve.” YN tried to ignore the way Tony’s worried eyes gave away to something almost teasing, and she turned around to the room 569, knocking on the ajar door and smiling at the man in the room.

He was sitting next to an unconscious Steve. His dark skin and dark eyes stunned her— a man of genuine beauty was protecting Steve. He looked at her, eyes intense and guarding.

“Who’re you?” His voice was suave and the gap in his teeth was charming. YN tried to fight back the urge to walk over and tell him just who she was— he obviously cared much for Steve. The bags under his eyes and the stains on his shirt were dead giveaways that he hadn’t left the hospital in a few days.

“YN Banner. Who are you?” Her voice was strong, and her gaze landed on Steve who looked very much worse for wear. A large gash that was deep enough to require stitches extended from the corner of his mouth to his earlobe, a black and green and red bruise on his opposite cheek let her know that the bone underneath his skin must have been completely shattered. The hospital gown he was wearing was pulled to the side to show more blossoming bruises and YN coughed, trying to rid her throat of the sudden lump that had taken root there.

The man made a noise of surprise and joy, a wide smile blossoming over his face before he stood and extended a hand.

“Sam Wilson. Wow, the famous YN Banner. Steve and Giovanna never shut up about you this whole week, it’s nice to put a face to the name. Nice to meet you, Steve’s girlfriend, YN Banner.” He smirked and his smile grew at the way she spluttered in surprise.

“I’m— we’re not— I’m not—“ She rushed, cheeks flaming to the tips of her ears. Sam laughed and stepped closer, moving to walk by her and out of the room, knowing she would want some alone time.

“He said the same thing when Gio and Natasha called him your boyfriend. Got more red, though.” And with that, and a clap on the shoulder, Sam walked out of the room.

YN’s gaze drifted back to Steve, and she pressed the backs of her cold hands to her face to try to quell the blush that seemed to have found a home there. She walked over to his side, pulling a chair to his bedside and reaching out, hesitating only slightly before wrapping both of her hands around his much larger one. The knuckles were bruised and bloody, clean stitches already looking to have been removed and she rested her cheek on them, looking at Steve’s face.

It was only a half an hour before his hand twitched in hers, and he grunted at the pain he felt immediately upon waking. He cracked his eyes open slowly, crusted closed with tears and other sleep residue and felt someone's hands tighten around his own.

YN was there, eyes tired but relieved and Steve’s heart rate monitor picked up when she smiled at him, softly.

“Hey,” She whispered over the music from the speaker Sam had brought in. Her tightened her grip on his hands and rested her lips on his fingers— not kissing them, but resting there and Steve cursed the machine beeping continuously and irregularly beside him.

“Hi,” His voice was raspy from the fight and smoke and water they had to pump from his lungs and the breathing tube from the surgeries he had received.

“Whose idea was it to take down SHIELD?” She asked, corners of her lips turning up. She already knew the answer, but it would be nice to have the opportunity to make fun of the man in front of her.

“Gio’s?” He tried and YN laughed against his hand, breath drifting over his knuckles and making the pink of blush creep up his neck. God, how the hell did someone as good as her make him so unbearably nervous. She had gotten even more beautiful in the four months they hadn’t seen each other.

“Nice try, Captain Bad Idea.” YN teased, and she pulled one hand from his grip to brush the back of her fingers against his forehead and his eyes fluttered shut briefly at her touch. To anyone looking into the room, they looked like a couple— two people so in love and so worried for each other, and both Steve and YN knew this, neither too keen on ruining the illusion. They only wanted to stay in this little moment for a few minutes longer— for as long as it took for reality to pull them away from each other once more.

____________________

Soon, Tony interrupted their moment outside of reality, needing to discuss and make plans for the future of the team and whoever remained of SHEILD.

“I’ll be back. Can you eat anything yet?”

“I think so,” His voice was quiet and he really, truly, desperately didn’t want you to leave— didn’t want to let you go already.

“Okay, I’ll find something good.” YN stood, squeezing his hand once before pulling away slowly and Tony raised an eyebrow at the way Steve almost seemed to reach after it, wanting her to come back so soon.

YN didn’t hear the way Tony teased Steve, comments of ‘gramps’ and ‘you know she’s too smart for you, right?’ Followed quickly by Steve telling him to shove it somewhere the sun didn’t shine. Instead, she walked over to the next room and didn’t even bother knocking before walking in and crossing her arms, glaring at her best friend who looked a little worse for wear.

“You look like shit, babe,” Giovanna said with a wicked grin.

“You’re one to talk. Really? Taking down secret government Nazi’s? Without me? How dare you.” YN dropped her stern act and padded over to Giovanna’s bed, lifting the blankets and curling under them, resting her head on her best friends shoulder.

“Sorry about that.” Giovanna shifted slightly and moved to face YN, glad she had chosen to invade her bed on this side, as she didn’t need to lay on the stab wound she had received only hours before.

“I told you not to die.” YN chastised lightly, and Giovanna patted her shoulder.

“I didn’t— I just got stabbed lightly by sex on legs.” She said and YN looked at her sharply.

“Excuse me?”

And then, Giovanna launched into a story of a man-- the Winter Soldier-- dressed in all black, hair hanging around his face which was, apparently, sculpted by Hades himself.

“And the best part,” Giovanna continued, pausing for dramatic effect. “It was Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes!”

YN’s heart dropped to her stomach and she could feel the blood leave her face.

“What? Steve didn’t say anything about— oh, my God.” YN whispered, and she barely had time to even worry about Steve before Giovanna made a noise in the back of her throat.

“Oh, so you saw your favourite Beefcake before your best friend?” Giovanna teased, relishing in the way YN looked as if she wished the ground would swallow her whole.

“I— you were— Tony needed to see you.” YN stuttered and Giovanna rolled her eyes, squeezing YN closer to her. God, she missed her bumbling, pining, lovestruck best friend.

“Suuuure.”

______________________________

Tags (open, send an ask): @i-am-always-famished / @filia-sapientiae / @somekryptonitewriting / @fashionlive15 / @godlymissbalor / @fanfictionjunkie1112 / @nerdy-bookworm-1998 / @songforhema / @army-crawl-andersen / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @shynara51

[clearcorona]

playing with fire // dabi x fem!reader - no quirks AU

I believe in the Dabi is a Todoroki theory and will be addressed as Touya in this x reader. Dabi is nickname sometimes used by the reader when they're alone.

Your parents had always warned you about the delinquents lurking around the city, always up to no good, telling you to stay away. You know what you did instead? Fall for one.

However, despite the cold and harsh exterior he put on outside, he really was just a huge teddy bear. What sucked was that you knew you wouldn't be able to stay with him much longer. You sighed, running your fingers through his jet black hair. A small smile appeared on your face as you noticed that the vibrant red of his roots was beginning to show again. You remembered the last time he had asked you to help him dye his hair, which ended with you getting dye all over your hands and some even got on your face, leaving a stain for the next few days.

"Touya...," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead, rolling your eyes as his grip on you only tightened. "Touya, come on. I'd like to get some food in my stomach, please and thank you."

"Five more minutes," he grumbled and you let out a dramatic sigh.

"I'll starve to death in five minutes. Touya, it's almost noon!"

"Yeah, it's still too early, Princess."

"You know your dad scares me, right?" He groaned and slowly released you, stretching. You smiled to yourself, knowing that line always worked because he wanted to be your fierce protector. It wasn't like you had to lie. Enji Todoroki absolutely terrified you, not to mention you weren't exactly his ideal choice for his son. The same could be said about how your parents thought about Touya, but neither of you really cared.

"Let's go," he muttered as he stretched, yawning. You stood up on the bed and jumped up onto his back, wrapping your arms and legs around him.

"What's the fun in that? Onward! To the kitchen!" You laughed, burying your nose in his hair. His scent was intoxicating, a mix of burning wood and a hint of cologne. Your heart ached, knowing you were going to miss him more than anything.

"Remind me again why I agreed to go on that first date?" he asked and you scoffed, pinching his shoulder. He only chuckled in response as he walked out of his room, adjusting your weight on his back before heading to the kitchen.

"Morning everyone!" you chirped once you saw his siblings, sliding off of your boyfriend's back.

"Morning (Y/N). Did you sneak in again?" he teased and you smiled, shaking your head.

"I came in through the front door, thank you very much. Your sister let me in," you replied, sticking your tongue out at him, a gesture that he returned.

Ever since you had been in your relationship with Touya, you had grown close to everyone in his family, excluding his father. They knew how he treated you whenever you were around and even Shouto had started to speak up about his father's behavior once he found out he was the reason you were crying one time.

"(Y/N)," you heard someone call and turned to see the duo haired boy, smiling.

"Hey, Shou! How are you, sweetheart?" you asked sliding off of your boyfriend's back to speak with the youngest Todoroki.

"So... When's the wedding, Touya?" Natsuo asked, nudging his older brother, who only rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze on you.

"It's too early for that, but hopefully a few years after we both graduate high school." Touya replied.

"You know he wouldn't be too happy about that. You aren't doing this just to spite him, are you?" Fuyumi spoke up and Touya turned to look at his sister, a smile on his face as he reached out to ruffle her hair.

"You don't have to worry about that. Even if he wasn't around, I'd still be with her," he replied and she smiled in return.

"Touya...," you whined, holding the youngest of the sibling's hand.

"Oi, Shou, you trying to steal (Y/N) from me?" he asked, playfully ignoring you. Shouto stuck his tongue out in response to his older brother before leading you to the pantry. It was starting to become a tradition that you'd made breakfast or lunch, depending on the time you decided to pull Touya out of bed, for them with the help of your boyfriend whenever you came over. It was a tradition you definitely were going to miss.

Even though you knew things weren't going to be the same at the end of the week, you kept a smile on your face, deciding that you were going to make the most of your time that you had left with the Todoroki siblings.

-

"Why do you seem so anxious, Princess?" Touya asked as he pulled you to his chest, nuzzling his nose in your hair to inhale the smell of your shampoo.

"I'm not," you replied, causing him to pull away and meet your eyes. You frowned and looked away, knowing that if you stared too long, you'd feel like telling him everything.

"(Y/N), we talked about this. If there's something going on, just tell me."

"Dabi, it's fine, really. We should go somewhere fun. We could take your brothers and sister out. Come on, please?" It was your last day with them, and you wanted to spend you time with all of the Todoroki's you had bonded with. It was just a shame that Rei couldn't be there and Endeavor made sure to have security keep an eye on you to keep you away from her whenever you came with the Todoroki siblings.

"I really don't want to go anywhere, doll," he stretched, putting his arms behind his head and resting on them.

"You're so boring. Looks like I'll just go without you. I'm sure Shou would enjoy my company," you teased.

"Fine, fine. I'm going," he sighed, knowing it was worth it once he saw your eyes lit up.

"Great! I'll go round them up!" He watched as you walked out of his room to gather the other siblings. He knew something was bothering you, but he also knew it was best to wait until you were ready to talk about the situation.

-

You clutched the handle of your suitcase, trying to take your sadness and turn it into anger. You hated how cocky he looked as he sauntered over to you, wishing you could wipe that damned smirk off of his face.

"Did you say your goodbyes?" Enji asked, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

"You and I both know that if I did, Touya wouldn't have let me leave," you replied. The older man rolled his eyes before holding his hand out. You grumbled as you handed your phone over, flinching as he crushed the device in his hand. "You're awful, you know that?"

"It wouldn't have to be this way if you hadn't shown up. Besides, Shouto is going to be there heir of my company. Touya is a flawed being and needs to learn his place," Enji said firmly, his eyes blazing.

"Do you even realize what you're saying?! Fuck you! You don't seem to realize what good children you have, you bastard!" you yelled, causing his anger to spike even further. "I doubt that any of your kids want to be the heir of your company, especially if they found out about your little side business."

The older Todoroki made a gesture with his hand and the two security guards that were standing behind you came closer. One grabbed you while the other pointed the barrel of a gun to your temple.

Of course, it was terrifying to be at gunpoint, but you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you scared. If he did decide to kill you, he couldn't claim that your were begging for mercy. You'd much rather it be you than Touya. He had his siblings and his mother while you were on your own.

"Keep your damn mouth shut. You do remember what our deal was, right? If you say a word about this to my son or even try to contact him, I'll blow both of your brains out."

"Fuck you, Enji Todoroki. Normally I wouldn't say shit like this, but I honestly do hope that everything comes back to you ten times worse. Maybe the next time I see you, it's when they're ready to put you six feet under." You gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, making him scowl at her.

"Get her out of my sight. (Y/N) (L/N) is no longer."

-

Touya paced around his room, dialling your number for the fifth time. Just like the other four, it went straight to voicemail. He was getting worried and anxious. The only person he cared about other than his family was you, and not hearing from you only made him go over the possibilities of what could have happened.

"(Y/N)... Princess, please... I don't know if I did anything to upset you, but please just call me back," he pleaded as the small beep went off to leave a voicemail. "I love you and I'm starting to get worried..."

He then sighed and ended the call, tossing his phone to the side as he pulled at his hair. He went over everything he said and did in the past few days he had seen you. He couldn't think of anything that would've possibly set you off or upset you. He had only seen you truly angry once before and he swore he would make sure you never got like that ever again.

Touya walked out of his room, spotting Fuyumi down the hall as she watered some of the indoor plants.

"Fuyumi," he called out softly, shoving his hands in his pockets as his sister looked up at him. "I know that you and (Y/N) talk sometimes. Did she tell you anything about possibly being upset with me?"

"No, I don't think so. I haven't talked to her since she was last here. She said she just probably wouldn't be able to talk to me for a while and when I asked why, she said her phone was being shut off," she replied. Touya furrowed good eyebrows at that statement. He knew in that moment, something wasn't right.

Because you were all alone when you weren't staying with him, he was helping you pay some of the bills, your cell phone bill being one of them. He didn't understand why it would possibly get shut off when he was the one paying on time every month.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Fuyumi asked, tilting her head.

"I think something happened to (Y/N). Something bad."

"What are you talking about? What do you mean?" Fuyumi was instantly worried. You may be her brother's girlfriend, but you two bonded the fastest out of everyone after being introduced to the family. Fuyumi even considered you as a sister even though you and Touya were only in high school, quite a ways away from getting married to seal the deal.

"I'm not sure, but I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

[thescarletofarose]

The Consequences of His Actions

Chapter Ten

Duusu swirled through the air around Emilie’s chair, singing a wordless tune. Nooroo chased after her in an attempt to calm the Kwami, but she cried out her shrill song. Emilie calmly set her coffeecup on its saucer and rubbed her temples. A low but annoying burn thrummed behind her eyes.

“Duusu,’ Emilie chirped. Both Kwamis instantly halted. At the call of her name, the ancient peacock flew around to face her master. Emilie scraped a manicured nail gently down the side of Duusu’s head. “Let’s keep it down, yes? Mommy’s head hurts.”

The Kwami purred, rubbing against the woman’s hand. Nooroo silently watched from the side. His eyes drifted to the adjacent room that held the painting of his master, the painting that if touched in specific places would open– 

“Nooroo.”

Nooroo was startled out of his thoughts but quickly recovered. He immediately flew over to Emilie, his head bowed in submission.

“Carry this,” Emilie said, motioning to a croissant on the platter before her. “I don’t want it to be said that I mistreated Ladybug’s mother.”

Her eyes followed the purple Kwami as it carried out her order without a word. “Afterall, I’m a good master, aren’t I?”

Nooroo lifted his head and met Emilie’s gaze. Her bright green eyes bore into him, refusing to reveal even a drop of the thoughts held within her head. Her smile was gentle, but he knew of the fangs that hid behind those thin lips. The rough exterior of the pastry scraped against his arms as Nooroo cheerfully smiled. “Of course, Master.”

Emilie stood up, brushed off her skirt, and made her way into the atelier with Nooroo and Duusu in tow. At the touch of her fingers, the trio began their descent. Though silent, Duusu swam around Emilie’s head, moving her body to some unknown tune. The fluid but erratic shifts set Nooroo on edge. It would only take one bump in the small space, one graze of a tail feather, to break the thin ice that was Emilie’s patience. He itched to chase after the broken being but that would only raise the risk of something going wrong, and Duusu would see it as a game. 

Nooroo couldn’t help the sigh of relief as the ceiling opened, allowing entrance to the lair and freedom to the flighty peacock. Emilie smirked, and Nooroo realized she knew he had been nervous. 

Emilie stepped into the bare room with a flourish of her wrist. “Sabine,” she called, “I brought you a snack. Don’t worry, I didn’t poison it this time.”

Emilie’s eyes adjusted quickly due to the streaming moonlight, subsequently making her freeze. Scattered debris and glass littered the floor, sparkling in the white light. She turned to see the still bound form of Sabine crouching where she had left her. Emilie slowly scanned the room, landing on a corner of shadows. 

“Oh dear, it looks like I was interrupting something.” She stepped further into the room, closer to the hostage, and said, “As an uninvited guest, it’s rude to not introduce yourself.”

Soundlessly the shadows moved, advancing, growing, and taking shape. The luminescence warped reality, and he emerged from the licking shadows like an entity born from darkness. Emilie’s breath hitched but when she saw the green eyes, her lips curled into a grin.

“Chat Noir,” she said and pointedly looked over his shoulder. “All alone?”

Chat Noir didn’t respond, only stared. Emilie’s hand went up to the two brooches. “How did you find me?”

“Gabriel confessed everything.”

Emilie scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. He wouldn’t expose me at the risk of his son. Think of the emotional damage it would have on him with both mother and father imprisoned.”

Chat Noir swallowed hard and curled his fingers into a fist. His voice cracked as he said, “He would if his son was the one that asked.”

The tension thickened as hero and villain stared at each other, realization setting in the latter. Sabine watched with wide eyes, uncomfortable and confused with the sudden change in atmosphere. 

Emilie cleared her throat. “I suppose I can’t use parental authority to make you hand over your Miraculous?”

Chat Noir snorted, but Emilie just shrugged. She swiped a few strands of hair out of her face with the grace of one used to being in front of a camera. “It didn’t hurt to ask.”

Sabine’s wide eyes went wider at the exchange. “A-Adrien?”

Emilie rolled her eyes and lolled her head over her shoulder to gaze down at the hostage disdainfully. Her lip curled up in disgust. “Obviously, Sabine. Quite the coincidence, is it not? My son and your daughter chasing after our Miraculouses? Well, mine now.”

Chat Noir furrowed his eyebrows. “Her Miraculous? I don’t understand,” he said looking between the two mothers. “You abducted her after learning about Ladybug’s identity. How could she–“

“Abducted her?” Emilie touched her cheek as if stung, though her smirk contradicted the action. “My dear son, I never go to anyone. Sabine came here of her own free will. I just… ensured she stayed.”

“Enough with the lies. As if I would believe Mrs. Cheng would willingly–”

“It’s true, Adrien.” Sabine said, cutting him off. She hung her head in shame. “I-I thought I could convince her… I wasn’t thinking, and I’ve put you and Marinette in a dangerous position.”

Chat Noir stared at Sabine, his brow scrunched as he tried to understand what she was saying. “Y-you…”

Emilie stepped in front of the woman, cutting off Chat Noir’s view of her. She spoke in a soothing voice, tilting her head so that Chat Noir looked up at her. “Don’t worry about her, son. This is a personal matter between Sabine and me. She wronged me and she needs to pay for it.”

“Wronged you?” Sabine’s voice squeaked from behind Emilie. “Emilie, you stole the Miraculouses and the book from my family.”

“Pardon me, but do I hear the pot calling the kettle black? Those Miraculouses don’t belong to your family.”

“Finding and stealing are different.”

Emilie whirled around, her eyes blazing with fury. “I found Duusu, and she chose me–” 

“Enough!” Chat Noir grabbed Emilie’s shoulder and pushed her to the side. He stalked toward Sabine. His body shook as though struggling to support his weight, and his eyes were full of tears. “You’ve known about my mother… my father… and you’ve kept quiet all this time?”

“That’s not true!” Sabine jerked up, her body surging forward with the desperate force to be believed. “Adrien, I swear I didn’t–”

“That’s right, Adrien. She’s withheld the truth all this time.” Emilie said, appearing from the shadows, her voice a slithering wisp of air. She looped her arms through Chat Noir’s and laid her head on his shoulder. Her head fell back until her lips were near his ear. She whispered, “Just think: had she said something in the first place, we wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have been gone for so long. Your father wouldn’t be in jail. She kept us apart, but you can fix this.”

Faces of countless Parisians being used and twisted from their anger and frustration flitted through his mind. Marinette’s sobs as she, cornered and exhausted, revealed herself to him, breaking a rule she swore to uphold. His father’s betrayal yet the numb understanding as to why he did it. All of them raced circles in his head like a preview to a movie on repeat, each one waiting expectantly for him to fulfill his promise. Chat Noir’s mouth dried and his voice came out hoarse. “I can fix this?”

Emilie straightened up and turned Chat Noir to face her, gently cupping his cheek with a cold delicate hand. “Yes, my precious son. With the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses, we can fix everything, regain the past… have a family again.”

In the background, Chat Noir heard Sabine calling out to him, pleading to pay no attention to his mother’s words. Emilie’s grip tightened as if affected by what Sabine was saying, but Chat Noir ignored the woman. His eyes and ears remained focused on his mother’s face. She rubbed gentle but firm circles with the pad of her thumb as she spoke, her eyes silently demanding him to keep looking at her. “We would play the piano together. Your father would be with us, happily listening. The three of us could even watch Solitude. I never got a chance to watch it with you.”

Chat Noir’s heart ached as he tried to draw up these images. He closed his eyes, leaning into his mother’s touch… and then he saw it, clips and snippets of conversations, moments from his past all simmering to the surface. Each one a bubble popping with scalding clarity. 

“Her name is Ananta Haine… she’ll do anything, sacrifice anyone, to get what she wants.” His father’s powerless body fell from the top of the Eiffel Tower, discarded like the wrapper on a newly received toy. His body limp, resigned to his fate.

“She’s been one step ahead this entire time, and I… I’m nothing!” Marinette crumbled against him, sobbing her apologies into his arms as she confessed her intent to relinquish the Ladybug Miraculous.

“You never know, my precious son, people change.’” A man groveled at the feet of his mother as she leered down at him, desperate for her forgiveness, unable to afford losing his credibility. 

“Emile was changed… damaged.”

Gabriel folded in on himself, dropping all airs of importance as he took in the news of Nathalie’s departure. “Nathalie take a vacation? Unlikely.”

“What could you possibly do?” Marinette stared up at him, her eyes, which once held so much life, were now empty and reflected her broken spirit.

“If you had known about my identity before my defeat, would you have revealed yourself?” Gabriel sat across from him, eyes piercing into his soul, looking for an answer that neither knew if really existed. Shadows framed his face, outlining his age and the weariness that was suddenly apparent. The same weariness he knew he would see if he were to look in a mirror. “So. How will you proceed?”

Chat Noir opened his eyes, his breath coming out in short gasps. A familiar sting pricked the corners of his eyes.

“I love you, mom,” he said, tears streaming. “I love you; I hope you know that.”

Emilie smiled and pulled him into an embrace. Chat Noir closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of his mother’s arms. He gripped her tightly, trying to take deep and steady breaths. His body shook as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He could hear her heart beating against his chest. The repeating lub-dub gave him a steady rhythm on which to concentrate. 

Finally his body relaxed. He said, “I promise to fix everything.”

Emilie let go and tried to step back, but Chat Noir tightened his grip. He uttered tiny whispers of ‘I love you’ and ‘I promise’ over and over again as Emilie began to struggle to get away. Her arms beat weakly against his black suit as she demanded he let her go, but he barely felt it, protected from minor injuries and his mind elsewhere. He shut his eyes and drowned out any background noise, only listening to his own steady breathing and the now erratic beating of his mother’s heart. Burying his face against her shoulder, Chat Noir squeezed her one last time.

“Cataclysm.”

Emilie stiffened and her flailing ceased. Chat Noir could feel her slip away, but he refused to open his eyes. It was only when he had nothing left to hold that he opened them. Black dust fell through his fingers, sprinkling an already established pile. Chat Noir stared at his hands, turning them over as if only realizing they were there. He flexed his fingers, the last of his mother’s warmth vanishing.

Light gleamed off a hidden object within the remains. With a gulp, Chat Noir bent over to retrieve the item, pulling out the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculouses. They were speckled with ash, but he quietly wiped it off. His fingers lightly trembled as he cleaned the jewelry.

“Adrien…”

Chat Noir jumped, having forgotten he wasn’t the only one. The frantic beeping of his ring reached his ears, and he turned around as his suit faded away. Plagg spiraled out of the ring and landed exhausted on the floor. Adrien immediately picked him up, cradling the ancient body in a hand. He glanced over at Sabine.

Sabine sat in the light, her face twisted in anguish. Adrien gave a weak smile. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Your mother… What have you done?”

“I promised them I would fix everything.” Adrien fondled the brooches in his hand, the metals cool against his sweaty palm. He swallowed hard as his thumb rubbed the bumpy surface of the Peacock Miraculous. “How did you know my mother?”

Sabine shook her head, unable to believe what she was seeing. Adrien took a step forward and she flinched. Frowning, Adrien stopped and sat on the ground. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Mrs. Cheng,” he said.

“You murdered your mother.”

“I did what I had to do.” Adrien took a breath. “Please…”

Sabine bit her lip and looked away. “I met Emilie while catering for one of her films. I found out she was to star in an upcoming movie with Tibetan influence. I invited her to travel with me to China, so she could do some research for the role.”

“Mom was great at acting,” Adrien said, fondly remembering, “but that doesn’t explain how you both obtained the Miraculouses.”

Sabine’s heart broke, but she continued. “My great-great-grandfather discovered the Miraculouses and the book at the base of a mountain when he was a boy. He quickly discovered their power, but he kept them hidden, knowing the power wasn’t his to use. Later when he became the head of the family, he displayed the jewels and book as sacred family heirlooms. I suppose he was hoping that whoever had lost them would come back, but when they didn’t, he decided that he would at least protect them. I wasn’t aware at the time of the power they held; I thought they were just objects with a silly lore attached.”

“I brought Emilie with me and introduced her to my family. We gave her a tour of our home and the city. The day before she left, I showed Emilie the Miraculouses and the book, along with other family heirlooms. The next morning Emilie was gone, taking with her the book and Peacock Miraculous. I don’t know why she took them, but as I was the one who brought her, it became my duty to retrieve them. Your mother and I fought the day before she disappeared.”

“You lost,” Adrien said. Sabine nodded her head. He had fed Plagg during the time she was speaking, and the Kwami was now hovering beside him, quiet and despondent. Adrien furrowed his brows. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I was being honest when I said I didn’t know. Your mother disappeared along with the Miraculouses, so I assumed she had run off with them. When Hawkmoth made his debut, I thought he had taken her. I was powerless with useless information, but then you and Ladybug appeared–the two of you defeated that first akuma–and I knew that the true owner of those Miraculouses was nearby. I took that as a sign that I was no longer needed; I could leave it to the two of you.” Sabine ran a hand through her hair. “Gabriel’s reveal and downfall and Emilie’s sudden reappearance are why I approached her. I was hoping she had answers. I didn’t know…”

Sabine looked up to see Adrien attach the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculouses to his shirt, releasing Nooroo and Duusu from the jewelry. He stood up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, bringing him to a knee. 

Plagg immediately moved to his holder. “Adrien, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Plagg,” Adrien said, waving the Kwami away. He took a second to regain his bearings before standing up.

Sabine looked between the Kwamis and the boy. Her voice shook as she asked, “What are you planning to do?” 

“I’m going to release you,” he said with a jerk of his head. Nooroo and Plagg flew to Sabine and began to untie the ropes, “and then you are going to tell Ladybug to meet me. Tonight.”

Sabine stood up and rubbed her sore wrists. She feared what he would try to do to her daughter, but in her current state she was vulnerable. “Where should I tell her to go?”

Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out his lucky charm. He held it up to the moonlight, running the memory through his mind. “Tell her to meet me where it all began.”

[weeping-petals]

Players of the Game

A New Game - Part 3

Word Count - 4,382

After a long night of searching, the Crystal Gems finally locate Steven. Alarmed by the child’s state, Garnet rushed in to apprehend Spinel. At long last, the game will end.

The temple of Chalcedony Forest, beneath a moon splashed night. The trees underwent the process of petrification to create the towering castle-like structure, now stood frozen; purpose unfulfilled, and robbed of the timbers natural state. Somewhere during the war, construction was abandoned; despite this, the forest continued its methodical work of bending and stretching to fashion the edifice. Though it did not know what it was to become, and in that peril of existence only budded a structure devoid of cohesion.

 The Crystal Gems emerged from a portion of the thicket which was predominantly calcified trees. Towards the tower, the malformed timber formed miles of layered and splint slates, encircled like a winding maze. It was easy enough to navigate, and offered cover for their approach. They scouted the perimeter, but could not identify movement of indication of where Spinel had gotten to. If she was even here.

 “Do you see anything?” Pearl directed to Garnet. Aside from the half moon hovering in the sky, it was dark. They didn’t need their gems to define surroundings, and much of the glossy material abundant refracted illumination. They navigated the broken passages, creeping among and beneath breaches in walls and debris.

 Garnet, as she had been since they started, was silent. Something hot and irritated was brewing, an unspoken argument and plotting. She looked at Pearl briefly, before turning to resume the lead. Pearl and Amethyst exchanged a look.

 “Stay close,” Garnet reminded. “Spinel will likely already be here, which gives her the element of surprise. We’ll approach with the utmost caution.” She held out her hand before Amethyst could scamper away. “There’s no telling what she might do with Steven.”

 Pearl shivered. She took the liberty to draw one spear form her gem, and sided in close with Amethyst.

 “This place is ginormous,” Amethyst grumbled. She climbed atop a cracked wall and gave their surroundings a sharp examination. “We’re never gonna find’em unless we splint.”

 “No,” Pearl hissed. “One of us can barely handle Spinel. If we stand a chance, it will be a taunt collaboration leaving her no opportunity to recover.” Amethyst opened her mouth to retort, but Pearl anticipated her next argument. “For Steven’s sake. We can manage this.”

 “I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” Amethyst huffed. “Why couldn’t she have stayed gone?”

 “You don’t know what you’re saying,” Pearl murmured. “She should’ve—” As Amethyst said, Spinel should have been gone. At least, after all these years it was what they presumed. They felt safe in the complacency. How wrong they were. How it haunted them now.

 For several excruciating hours, they explored the exterior province of the pillar. Numerous entrances presented themselves dotting the base and low level of the tower, some fitted with incomplete ramps or disintegrating staircases. Many sustained extensive damage and folded inward, misshapen entirely. Several entries held gem sensitive lamps, which activated upon their fleeting exploration. This indicated to Pearl that nothing had passed within for a while. Likewise, all inhabitants present would be alerted to intrusion.

 Through the brief scouting, Amethyst ooed and awed at the interior architect polished by time. “Steven’s gonna love this place. Y’think?”

 Garnet didn’t reply, but continued. Amethyst and Pearl followed, forgoing commentary. At one point, Garnet thought it wise to hand the cheeseburger backpack to Pearl, for safe storage. The items inside would be useful to Steven, once they liberated him from Spinel. There was no telling what would happen, but they knew for certain an altercation with Spinel would be unavoidable. But they would take him back, it was only a matter of locating him.

 A dipping pathway wound its way into a low space beneath the pillar, among splint petri-wood. When they breached the yawning entrance – many times their size – Garnet put her arms out.

 Throughout the wall and ceiling, roots knotted and twisted. The illuminars was active within the chamber, glittering across the mineral laced plant life. Aside from the lamps, it was not immediately apparent if something still lurked within. The chamber was expansive, walls and ceiling eroded.

 Pearl gripped the spear sloped beside her leg. “This must be where she came through. Amethyst,” she grated, struggling to keep her voice low. “Stay down.”

 Amethyst bounced between crumbling wall intermixed with the reformed tree. “We want her to show herself, don’t we—”

 Garnet lashed out her arm and snared Amethyst, she hoisted the small gem backwards. “No. We need to find Steven first. I see a passage, over there.” She indicated, and began on that direction.

 The opening lay behind a massive, and shattered crystal. Each scaled the obstacle laying directly on the slope, which would bring them to the suspended level. Lamps didn’t activate in the corridor, a benefit for them. Extending from the minor strip, they exited into another open expanse which resembled a stoney courtyard. Vague structures erupted from the floor and ceiling, calcified vine-knots hovered beneath the ceiling. Trees bent or stood choppy and gnarled, formed partially into structures like pillars or statues.

 Stealthy and silent, the trio wove through the ruble. They picked their way down a series of steps, but jarred to a halt when Garnet went tense. Pearl spied immediately what gripped her attention, and she brought a hand to her face.

 The movement was foremost noteworthy, dipping behind crushed chalcedony. Those pigtails were incriminating, and belonged to no other.

 Garnet launched from beside the others and landed heavily atop a collapsed twine of roots. It was worse than she suspected, and every fiber of her existence sparked. “Steven!”

 “Oh-ho, look who’s here.” Spinel sneered. In the gloom, her eyes and grin glittered in traditional cutouts. Sinister and spiteful. “You’ve gotten better at hide-and-seek. Too easy for you, I see.”

 Beneath her on the ground, lay Steven. He was curled up in a tight ball and trembling.

 For the first time in hours, Garnet radiated with unrefined emotion. Her fists clenched and her shoulders quivered. “I won’t let you get away with this.” She threw herself at Spinel, arms outstretched and gauntlets formed. In response, Spinel retreated within tight backward flips, entire body a slinky which slipped through narrow crevices. Garnet pursued, crushing rock and tossing obstacles. Up until a last clump of crystal revealed the illusive gem, but Spinel was coiled and waiting; she swung her body around and bowled Garnet down with an oversized fist.

 Garnet hit the floor and tumbled. She came to a halt and momentarily, checked that Steven was still moving and reassure that Spinel hadn’t followed with a counter. It took a brief glance, then she rebounded, gauntlets connecting with a slate Spinel ducked behind. Chalcedony burst into fragments and powder, but there was no sign of the lanky nuisance.

 A barrage of cackles lashed downward, while Spinel came sloping hard on her extended arms. Outstretched legs collided with Garnet, and sent her flying.

 “Pearl! Check Steven!” Garnet slammed into the underside of a suspended platform.

 Pearl didn’t need a second prompt. She was already crouched beside the boy, Amethyst on the other side. “Oh my stars! Steven!” She dismissed her spear and collected the small child in her arms, holding him close.

 “Is he all right?” Amethyst choked. Her gem alit, to give them a better view. And for comfort. “Is he… breathing?” They winced. Pearl clutched Steven tighter.

 Garnet burst from the rock, and managed to collide with Spinel. The two clashed hand-to-hand, or hand and coil; Spinel pinned one of Garnet’s arms in a tight bind, while her other hand grappled with the wrist of the taller gem. Both crashed, forming a thick plum of dust and sparkles.

 “Ugh! She needs help,” Amethyst barked. But Steven…. “Is he okay? What happened to him?”

 “I don’t know! He’s unconscious! He—” Pearl squeaked. she pressed her head to Steven chest. “H-he’s…. Y-yes. He’s doing that thing. The breathing!” She could almost poof, most of Steven was intact. “His heart is beating, but it’s so slow! If she’s done anything—” Another collision, she shrank over Steven. Garnet hurtled through a clump of stoney roots. “Don’t just sit there! Go help!”

 “Why should I?” Amethyst countered, more puzzled than annoyed. “Someone has to stay by Stevey!” She didn’t want to admit why Pearl should go.

 Reluctantly, Pearl gave Steven a hug. “Please be okay.” She set the child on Amethyst knees and stood, summoning duel spears.

 In this time, Spinel was swinging up and through the suspended chunks of rock, using the near and long range to its fullest. It had been so-so long since she was allowed to move. She was competent in repelling a rock thrown her way, or sling a chunk of chalcedony back at Garnet – whom leapt after, using the obstacles to keep sharp on Spinel’s movements. The other was fueled by rage and, and something more personal.

 But under no circumstance could she allow Garnet to get a good solid grip of her body.

 It did happen that Garnet snagged a firm hold of one leg and attempted to heave Spinel through the air, like a lasso. Spinel’s reaction to getting swept aside, was coil her remaining leg and both arms against her side before impacting a wall; cushioning her form. She hooked Garnet with the ensnared boot and recalled the leg, hauling the tall gem at herself with devastating speed. With one arm still coiled, Spinel’s fist inflated, and she reared back for a punch to shame all punches.

 If not for Pearl skipping across hovering platforms, both spears aimed. Spinel caught view of the pearl gem glinting and rebounded, before the bolts could land a hit. This meant she had to release Garnet and regroup her limbs. She hoisted into a clump of roots, tangled in the ceiling.

 “Boo-hoo!” she hailed down. “Feared the worst, didja? Felicitations! You saved your precious lil grub! You’re the heroes of today! HAH! Beating the ever-gleaming silt out of me won’t make any a one of you a better protector!” She grinned ear-to-ear (so to speak).

 Garnet recovered midfall. She landed on a detached mass of crystal, an estimated meter from Pearl racing across the structure. “Up you go.” She extended her arms, allowing the feathery Pearl to leap onto her wrist and race across her shoulders. Garnet swung back and launched Pearl with force.

 “I’m always game for a good trouncing.” Spinel harked. She twisted her body against the natty teethers and sprung, whirling like a top. She aimed directly for Pearl, and if she could blast through to smite Garnet, plus two—

 Out of nowhere, a rock smashed into the side of Spinel’s unprotected head and she plunged. Pearl was so taken she nearly missed her opening. The spear thrusted and connected, but barely.

 “WHOOOO!” Amethyst shot her arms high. “How does that taste, getting socked for a change? Chalk one up for the Army-thest! I still owe you!” She shut up when Steven groaned. “Shoot, sorry.”

 “Am’thest….”

 “Can you hear me? Don’t move,” she whispered, leaning closer. “You’re safe. I got you.”

 “Wha…?”

 How many years since she fell? A decade. A thousand. What was one thousand? She could wait an eternity, and then some. It felt like an eternity, being lost and forgotten. Discarded. Just like when she was left in the garden. The years departed, stars faded, and the world continued moving onward without her.

 Spinel fell void of control and orientation. Pearl had gotten very close. VERY-VERY CLOSE. All and undone, body a tangled mess, she couldn’t summon back her limbs, and felt disconnected from them. This left no brace for the fall, and no recollection of where solid surface would begin. She did the next best thing, looped arms and knees in bundles over her chest. If anything, she must protect her gemstone. She saw what happened to—

 It worked mostly. Spinel barely secured her torso, before she crashed into a slope and skidded. Luckily, her unrestrained spin-cycle eased out fast. No damage, she didn’t think, aside from her physical form getting shaken and her body still a knotted mess. She managed to flip herself over, and over again; she wouldn’t be surprised if she was inside out.

 A primal battle cry tore through the chamber, announcing – drat! – Garnet descending, gauntlets clasped tight into a gigantic club.

 Drat-drat-DOUBLE DRAT!

 Garnet missed by a breath, when Spinel flopped over. The Spinel was a withering mass, twisting and slithering over and around. This was it. This was the prime opportunity they had been seeking, when Spinel would be at her weakest.

 “I’ll hold her!” Pearl dashed forward, racing in from the side to recover the scant opportune moment.

 It was apparent Spinel realized what was happening, given how fast the gem scuttled behind a chunk of crystal embedded in chalcedony. Pearl landed adjacent and rushed in, a spear primed. The crystal barrier erupted, chalcedony chunks disintegrated under Garnet’s reckless pursuit. On the fringe, Pearl kept in check scouting for the bright colors of the wily gem. There came more natural barricades of stone and more chalcedony, a boot scuttling on the cusp of their peripheral. At long last, Spinel was revealed, still unraveled. Garnet chucked a sizable piece of crystal, but Spinel blocked it with one of her own – the two pieces collided midair and burst.

 From the dust hurtled Spinel, and she locked arms with Garnet, despite her limbs being a jangly mess. Something in Spinel’s expression nearly made Garnet stutter. Almost.

 “Always need to get the last word in. Doutcha?” Spinel accused.

 An opening laid out and backside exposed fully, Pearl shot in swinging one spear for the anticipated proximity of Spinel’s chest. Spinel narrowly evaded, whipped around and smashed Garnet into Pearl. The force sent Pearl pinwheeling, more unfortunately, Spinel was unable to loosen her hold off Garnet.

 “Couldn’t leave me alone!” Spinel spat. “No loose ends! No unfinished business!” She got her legs mostly recalled, and bucked Garnet in the chest. “No untidy, unorganized packages!”

 “You know perfectly well why we couldn’t let you off on your own!” Garnet thundered back. Spinel untangled her arms and abruptly kicked Garnet away. But the taller, and stronger gem, recovered instantly and barreled forward. She snared Spinel around the torso and tugged her close. “Not one of us wanted to do you this way. You deserved BETTER! But you left no alternatives!”

 “Could’ve… fooled me.” Garnet squeezed, and Spinel’s physical form shimmed under the strain. In a panic, Spinel’s limbs bent and arched in exaggerated patterns. Until at last, Spinel looped one arm around her waist, over and over.

 At first Garnet thought nothing of it, and only expected Spinel to protect her gem out of instinct. Yet, the coil tightened, and Spinel’s other arm found a solid hold, elsewhere. Pearl called a warning, but Garnet dismissed it, as Spinel’s projected light form glittered. Any moment.

 A wide grin met her, and then she knew something had gone wrong.

 Spinel wrenched free, a zipping tornado. Flung aside, Garnet careened across the wreckage strewn across the courtyard.

 During this, Pearl moved in deftly. She leapt high and fired a bolt from her spear, aiming for the unguarded top of Spinel’s head. This time, when the distinguishing bark of the bolt went off, Spinel wretched aside.

 Pearl alit on a high platform a distance above Spinel and observed, calculating the next move. Spinel was looking exhausted and perplexed by now. She no longer held homefield advantage, and the Crystal Gems would not relent until they dealt with her properly. There would be—

 “Guys! Stop!” Steven ducked and wove around the ruble rooted to the floor, and waved his arms. Amethyst was close on his heels, eyes massive and laced with panic. “Stop fighting! Wait!”

 Spinel went loose bodily, arms flopping to the ground as she threw back her head. She began laughing.

 “Steven! Find cover!” Garnet barked. She reacted and moved, rather define the most beneficial scenario. Steven was their priority, his safety above all could not be jeopardized. She sprang to him, but was immediately barred by Spinel’s stretched arms, extended like duel clothesline.

 “Don’t! Steven! You’re gonna get in their way!” Amethyst caught him in her arms and tried to haul him back. However, Steven was putting up a massive fight for his stature.

 “Spinel! Please! Stop! You promised!”

 Spinel dove off her perch, catching Pearl within midleap. She caught the staff, and heaved Pearl against her extending legs. “Nothing mentioned about not defending MYSELF!” Pearl lost her grip on the weapon, and the two dropped; Pearl stunned by the blow, while Spinel did a skillful twirl with the staff, winding up with the stolen weapon. Spinel concluded by whirling the spear toward Amethyst. And Steven.

 The barbed lashes of a whip snagged on the staff, halting its intent.

 At the last moment, Garnet skid out and caught Pearl before she hit the ground. Beside her, Spinel got her arms nestled below herself quick enough to cushion the impact; her legs swung up, spinning, and knocked Garnet aside.

 Spinel sprang out of the maneuver, somersaulting her retreat by several paces. She came to set herself upon a splint pillar, arms jagged at her sides. No opening left for an attack. She took survey of the Crystal Gems – Amethyst poised on top of Steven, holding him down with a foot, with duel whips at hand – Pearl was recovered, barely – and Garnet—

 “Give it up! We don’t want to fight you!” She was closing in, gauntlets at the ready. The gem stalked steady and rigid, up the incline primed to conclude this conflict.

 “You think you have the right, to lock me away!” Spinel screeched. “Like I’m some sort of… of… MONSTER!” She cackled. “That’s what you think of me! All along! No one ever said it, but ya’ll thought it. Didn’t you?” More laughter ensued, hard and grating. “Hilarious. I always thought you were different! I actually thought YOU saw me different. It really puts things into perspective, doughn’t?”

 “GAR-NIT!” Steven was trying to crawl out from under Amethyst’s foot. The lilac gem gave up, and had to restrain Steven with her arms and brute force. “Don’t hurt her!”

 “Are you kidding me?” Amethyst hissed. “You’re worried about that hostile hula-hoop!”

 “But she’s not a monster,” Steven whined, trying to shove Amethyst off. “You guys are just mean!” This caused Amethyst to gasp.

 “You brought this on yourself!” Garnet proclaimed, before sprinting through the last meter. She drew back a fist and took the swing. Unexpectedly, Spinel didn’t budge. Garnet hit with full force, plowing them off the pillar and through a slate of grafting tree roots with crystal brackets. The unstoppable drive met and unmovable force, and somewhere in the wreckage the dust cleared out.

 Spinel only survived her form poofing, by using her knees as a brace and coiling her arms over Garnet’s shoulders and wrists, robbing the battle laced gem of intensity. Garnet could not move.

 “I am so tired of hearing you say THAT!” Spinel snarled, baring her teeth. “Everyone can make mistakes, anyone can change. BUT NOT ME! Never! I’m not—” Her tirade cut off. And Garnet had an idea why.

 Pearl swooped in, directly above the alcove formed in the assault. Spinel looked directly into Garnet’s shades, and the reaction was instantaneous. The coils unraveled from Garnet, allowing Spinel freedom to whip around and snag Pearl by her waist. This time Pearl shot the bolt, dismissing the fact that Garnet was too close. Spinel coiled her limbs up and made to leap, but withdrew attention from Garnet for five milli-seconds too long.

 Garnet hauled Spinel back down, and the lithe gem took the bolt right in the shoulder. Still, the recoil knocked the gem from Garnet’s grip, and the unraveled gem skidded across the floor.

 A few feet from Garnet’s poise, Pearl landed and regrouped. “That wasn’t enough?” she posed, summoning a replacement staff.

 “A direct hit would be effective,” Garnet proclaimed. “This time, we won’t relent.”

 Spinel got to her feet and shook the glitter from her body. A chunk was missing from her angular shoulder. She looked from Garnet, to Pearl, and scowled. The region of the courtyard was all but flattened, utterly ruined. They wouldn’t leave. She shouldn’t be surprised. She slammed her fists against the ground:

 “I don’t want to play anymore.”

 While Garnet and Pearl rallied up for the oncoming assault, Spinel pivoted and sprang away. She was thrown near enough a back passage, which led deeper into the temple structure. They could search for her, play hide-and-seek all they liked, but she already knew the pathway out. She cast a look back over her shoulder, before straightening her shape and zipping out of view.

 “After her!” Garnet bellowed. She was about to initiate the chase, but a light grip trounced the thought. She turned to Pearl, but couldn’t meet the gems eyes.

 “I think… we’ve done enough.” Pearl’s spears were already dismissed, and after some surface examination Garnet could grasp why. Pearl was ragged, her superficial style in tatters. It wasn’t overlooked that Pearl had pushed herself to limits, and would continue to expend herself. If it meant protecting Steven. Speaking of which….

 Steven scurried to them, climbing over the demolished shards of chalcedony and stone. “Why did you hurt her? Why were you fighting!” He demanded. Promptly slipping and falling face flat before he crested the steep incline.

 “Oh cheeze whiz, be careful,” Amethyst huffed. She didn’t appear overtly concerned, and only nudged Steven with her foot while he tried to get up.

 “Why?” Pearl squawked. “WHY? Because she hurt you. Oh no!” She sprang to Steven and crouched down. “Are you all right? Any breaks? Do you have a fever? A scraped knee?”

 “No-no-no— Stop!” Steven pushed Pearl away. She relented the probing, but held his shoulders. “Nothing happened!”

 “You were dead,” Amethyst rebuked. She raised her arms and crinkled her fingers. “And she was hovering over you, like a vulture. It was seriously creepy.”

 “I wasn’t dead!” Steven insisted, stamping his foot. He looked to Garnet, silent and observing. Or eternally screaming. “I just… uh. I guess I fell asleep.” He rubbed his eye with a fist and yawned. The whole ordeal and then walking took its toll. Then, there was getting awoke suddenly in the midst of a brawl, with his favorite people fighting what he considered to be a new friend.

 “Asleep?” Pearl yelped. “How is it possible that you fell asleep. No-no, Steven. You must be mistaken, she must’ve—”

 “I fell asleep,” again he stated, but with force. “She told me to be quiet, but I was telling her about Tapioca Ninjas, then it got a lil fuzzy. Does she have a power that puts people to sleep? Or gems?”

 “Naw, that woul’da had made her real useful if she did,” Amethyst grumbled. “You might be right, though. All this walking, getting kidnapped, mugged. You had a full day on the clock. Ready for another?”

 “Uhh….” For the first time, Steven cast his eyes around, taking in the far spaced segments left intact, despite the rumble. Much of the walls and apparent sculpted fortifications crumbled, dried plants vaporized, and ash dusted the floor. “What is this place?”

 Pearl shook a bit from her accusatory stance, and alit her gem so that Steven could have a better view of the area. “The Chalcedony Temple, sculpted by the forest, with the forest.”

 “Ooh,” Steven ooed. “Yeah! We reached the temple, I remember! But she was super skittish about getting too close.” He wandered away from the others, onto more stable ground – Pearl kept close, just in case. He wasn’t really watching where he was going. “She was gonna leave me, but—” He cut off, and looked to the group.

 At last, Garnet became animate. “It’s time we return to the Crystal Temple. You’ve had an exciting day, and we don’t want to wait around for Spinel to recover. Now we know what damaged the warp pad, and what caused this temple to become active. Spinel is a problem we must work toward fixing.” She looked to Pearl, who could’ve been intermixed by disappointment and relief. “But at a later time.”

 “After all that?” Amethyst griped. “We’re gonna leave? We can’t just not fix this, and let her do whatever! This isn’t a good idea.”

 “This will have to wait,” Garnet admitted. “That’s all for now, we can discuss this later once we’re safe, and Steven is secure. We have a long walk back to the functioning warp pad.”

 Amethyst audibly groaned and departed the group. “That was the nearest wardpad. This will take forever, and it’s her fault!”

 “Wait! Amethyst! Stay with the group.” Pearl hurried after her, and immediately the two began a bicker.

 When they were out of range, Garnet spoke up. “Steven. Are you really okay?” He looked up at Garnet.

 “Um. Yes?”

 “Don’t lie. If you need anything, Pearl has your back… pack. Don’t hesitate. We’ll always be there for you.”

 “I know,” Steven uttered. “I’m telling the truth, she didn’t hurt me or anything.”

 “I do not disbelieve you. C’mon.” Garnet shook off the gauntlets and plucked up Steven. While springing down the incline and ruble, she mentioned, “We’re glad you’re okay. And, I’m sorry we were so careless.”

 “Hmm? I don’t think you were careless.” And with vigor, “You weren’t. I mean, she didn’t go easy on you.” He was quiet, until Garnet set him down. For a moment they stood, Garnet waiting on him to say something and Steven uncertain if he could ask. He looked back the way they came, and the gaping passage from the chamber. He had so many questions.

 “Will you tell me about her?”

 At first, Garnet was silent. She glanced back the way Steven did. “Let’s get out of this forest first. I think… she is done, for the time, but I don’t want to take the chances.”

  Steven nodded, mildly serious. But he would not let this go. Likewise, he had a feeling Garnet wouldn’t leave him in the dark, regarding the strange gem. This wasn’t something that could be ignored or left alone.

[megsironthrone]

Lost Touch

Based on this request:  How about a Jamie x Reader? They grew up together as family friends, he moved away and they lose touch. He’s invited back to hers for her engagement party to some other guy and realises he loves her so tries to win her back? At first she thinks he’s sabotaging it just because he’s being mean but they do end up together?

Here you are!! I do not own ANY Game of Thrones characters. They belong to George R.R.Martin. 

Warnings: Modern AU, ANGST! A teeny bit of fluff. And it’s a bit long.

Pairings/Characters: Jaime Lannister x fem!reader, Petyr Baelish x fem!reader, Tyrion.

Jaime gaped at the piece of paper in front of him. How long had it been since he'd heard from you? It had been at least two years. It was really a shame since the two of you had been the best of friends growing up. However, when he was twenty-one, Jaime left to work in one of his father's companies and the two of you lost touch. Now he was staring at an invitation to celebrate your engagement. To  Petyr Baelish.

         It didn't take Jaime long to make up his mind. He got on the first flight back home. Even though you hadn't spoken in a while, Jaime felt that he had to be there for you, especially on one of the biggest days of your life. He wouldn't miss that for the world.

         Tyrion greeted Jaime at the gate with a smile. Jaime knelt down to hug his younger brother. "How have you been, Jaime?" Jaime gave a shrug. "I've been well. Father's company keeps my busy." Tyrion laughed a bit. "I'm sure. I have to say, I'm surprised you came home willingly. After all, it must be difficult to see Y/N getting married after all these years."

         "Why would it be difficult?" Jaime asked, confused. Tyrion's brows rose as he replied, "Because you were in love with her." Jaime nearly choked on air. He had no idea where Tyrion was getting this idea from. "I was never in love with Y/N." Tyrion hummed, but Jaime could tell he didn't believe him. He didn't want to argue with Tyrion. He knew how he felt and he was not, nor had he ever been in love with you. Right? The answer to that question would come as a surprise to Jaime at the most inconvenient time.

         When Jaime and Tyrion arrived at their father's home, they both stood there open mouthed for a moment. Apparently the Lannister home was the only one big enough to host everyone invited to the party. The entire house was decorated to perfection and Jaime expected that was mostly thanks to Petyr. He remembered that you preferred simpler things.

         "Jaime Lannister." A voice brought Jaime's attention away from the hustle and bustle. He turned to see Petyr standing there with a smirk. "I'm glad you could join us. My fiancée was delighted to hear that her best friend was able to attend and anything that makes her happy, makes me happy." He offered Jaime a hand, which the Lannister took as he suppressed a shudder.

         Jaime had never liked Petyr. There was something about the man that oozed sleaze. He was manipulative and calculating. As Petyr rambled on, Jaime zoned out and continued to wonder what you saw in the man in front of him. Guys like Petyr were never your type. Then again, Petyr could afford to provide for you for the rest of your lives. Maybe that's what it was. Or maybe you saw a side to him that no one else did and truly loved him for it. Jaime had no idea.

         "Ah, there she is! My beautiful Y/N." Jaime whirled around to face the front door. Sure enough, he could see you coming up the walk. Jaime felt his breath hitch. You looked beautiful. More beautiful than he'd ever seen you. You wore a smile that could rival the brightest of stars.

         "Jaime!" you cried, launching yourself into his arms so quickly that he barely had time to catch you. Jaime held you close, breathing in your unique scent. He felt tears welling up in his eyes. He'd had no idea how much he'd missed you since you'd lost touch. You pulled back and beamed at him. "It's so good to see you. Thank you so much for coming. I don't think I'd be in any mood to celebrate if you weren't here."

         Jaime didn't say anything for a minute. He just stared into your (e/c) eyes. As he did, Jaime swore he felt something sparking between you that he'd never felt before. Then, the moment was ruined. Petyr cleared his throat. "Darling, that's hardly appropriate behavior." You arched a brow at him and scoffed.

         "I don't care. Jaime is my closest friend and I haven't seen him in years. I'll greet him however I please." You smiled at Jaime again. "Come on. We have so much catching up to do." You grabbed his hand and pulled him from the chaos of the house. "The party starts in 2 hours, Darling!" Petyr called, but you basically ignored him.

         It wasn't that you didn't love Petyr. You did. But you hated when he tried to tell you how to act. Yes, you were marrying him, but that didn't mean you had to be the perfect little trophy wife. In fact, you refused to be. You were still your own person and that meant catching up with your oldest friend.

         "Jaime, it really is good to see you," you said breathlessly when you stopped in the garden. Jaime grinned at you. "It's good to see you, Y/N. I really missed you." You hugged him again. When you pulled away, both of you were quiet for a moment. Then, you asked him what he'd been up to all this time.

         "Oh, the same old thing. Running the company and eliminating any chance of a social life." You laughed a little. "I'm sure that's not true. The great Jaime Lannister never wanted for company, especially the female kind." Jaime chuckled and shook his head fondly. You hadn't changed a bit.

         "So...why Baelish? I thought you didn't like him." You shrugged a little. You explained that you really hadn't at first, but he was persistent and you finally gave him a chance. "He's different than I thought Jaime. He really is a very kind person underneath all that pompous exterior" Jaime laughed. At least you weren't blind in your love. You didn't automatically make it so Petyr didn't have flaws. You were very realistic. "Well, if you're happy, then I am thrilled for you." You pulled him to you again and Jaime melted into your touch.

         Standing in that garden with you, Jaime found himself lost in thought. Never before had holding you felt so right. Jaime didn't want to let you go. He wanted to be there, holding onto you for as long as possible. He lost track of how long he held you while his mind traveled back into the past you'd shared.

         Jaime remembered how the two of you had met. It was when you were just ten years old. You were both on the playground and Cersei had been bullying you. You didn't waste any time knocking her on her keister in the dirt. Jaime hadn't found it funny at the time. After all, you'd just pushed his twin, but then he heard how Cersei had been acting and let it go. From that moment, the two of you had been fast friends. You did everything together.

         "Jaime?" Jaime nearly jumped at the sound of your voice. He glanced down at you with a smile. "Yeah?" You chuckled. "Where did you go?" Jaime just gave a shrug and didn't answer. Instead, he took to memorizing the planes of your face. Every dimple, every curve, even your nose. It wasn't until he heard Petyr calling for you that Jaime shook himself out of it. What was he doing? You were his best friend. His best friend that was engaged! "I suppose I should go get ready for the party. I'll see you later?" Jaime nodded. He watched as you walked away.

         The party was miserable for Jaime. All night, against his will, he found his gaze wandering over to where you were with Petyr's arm around you. As much as he fought it, he couldn't help but to imagine that it was his arms you were wrapped in and his lips that would occasionally kiss your cheek and temple. Tyrion was right. Jaime had it bad for you, but now it was too late.

         After a while, Jaime needed some air. He couldn't stand being in that room anymore. He wandered outside and was met with a shocking sight. Petyr was outside with Catelyn Stark. Jaime could just barely make out what they were saying. "Petyr, I'm a happily married woman and you are marrying Y/N in less than six months. You need to stop this."

         "But Catelyn, you know it has always been you who held my heart. Y/N cannot compare." Catelyn scoffed and pushed him away. She left in a hurry and Petyr stood there. Jaime scurried back inside, desperate to find you. He had to warn you. He couldn't let you marry Petyr knowing that the man didn't love you. At least not the way Jaime did.

         You were easy enough to find. You were standing with Tyrion, Bronn, and Podrick, three friends Petyr really didn't approve of. "Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?" You smiled and nodded. "What's up?" Jaime licked his lips as he glanced around. "Alone, please." Your brows furrowed, but you followed Jaime upstairs, away from the party. As soon as you were alone, Jaime spilled everything he'd seen in outside without taking a breath.

         For several moments, you didn't say anything. You looked down at the ground, your fists balled at your sides. Jaime didn't blame you for being upset. But when you looked up at him, he could see the absolute fury in your eyes. It was directed at him.

         "Why would you do this?" Jaime stared at you, dumbfounded. Why were you angry at him. "Why, of all nights, would you pick tonight to try and ruin my wedding?" Jaime opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "Me?" You nodded. Jaime had never seen you so angry. "How could you do this to me, Jaime? I thought you were my best friend!"

         "I am! I'm not trying to ruin your wedding, Y/N! I'm just letting you know what I saw. He's not good for you! He doesn't even love you! Not the way that I do!" Total silence. The two of you stared at each other, neither of you willing to give an inch. Finally, Jaime sighed. There was no use denying it now. "I'm in love with you, Y/N and I'm sorry it took me so long to notice it."

         "No," you said. Jaime looked confused. "No. You don't get to come back after all this time and tell me that you love me on the night of my engagement party! You had years to tell me all this. Years, Jaime! It's too late." You didn't give him a chance to reply as you turned on your heel and stomped away. Jaime had never felt so hurt as he did in that moment.

* short time skip*

         Five days. That's how long it had been since the night of your engagement party. Since the night Jaime ruined the greatest friendship he'd ever had. All because he couldn't keep his mouth shut about his feelings for you. If he'd only kept what he'd heard a secret, then you'd still be talking to him. Jaime sank down on his bed, his eyes glued to the suitcase in front of him. It was time to go. He couldn't stay for the wedding. Not now.

         A knock on his door made Jaime look up. "Go away, Tyrion. I am in no mood." The knock sounded again. Jaime huffed, shot up, and stormed over to the door. He threw it open, mouth prepared to yell at his younger brother, and stopped short. "May I come in?" Without a word, Jaime moved aside to let you in.

         In the middle of the room, you turned to Jaime. "Y/N-" You held up a hand to cut him off. "I talked to Petyr." Jaime flinched at the mention of your fiancé's name. "Oh." You stared at Jaime and he could see the tears forming in your eyes. "Y/N?" You sniffled.

         "He didn't deny it. Any of it. Not being in love with Catelyn. Not trying to persuade her to leave Ned or trying to break up our engagement for her. I'm so stupid." Jaime tentatively pulled you into his arms. "You're not stupid, Y/N. You've never been stupid. You love Petyr." You let out a heart-wrenching sob.

         "I'm sorry, Jaime. I should have known you were just looking out for me, the way you always have." He pulled you closer. "Of course. You're my best friend, Y/N. And...yes, I love you. I fought it for a while, but I love you. But I'd never, ever, put that above your happiness. That means more to me than anything."

         "Kiss me, Jaime." You lifted your head up to look at him. "Y/N, I can't. You're hurting so much right now. It wouldn't be right. Order me to do anything else, and I will, but don't order me to be that guy. The guy who kisses the girl while she's heartbroken over another." You nodded. Jaime could tell you were hurt, but that you also knew he was right.

         "Could you beat him up?" Jaime laughed heartily. There was his best friend, sassy as ever. "For you? Gladly." You giggled through your tears, holding him closer. "I love you, Y/N. You don't have to say it back. You're not ready. But when you are, I'll be here for you." You snuggled closer into his arms and let the sound of his heartbeat soothe you.

(a/n: I really hope you like it. It took me forever XD )

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