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#so i gave up for this dinner and its delicious in comparison
jacqcrisis · 4 months
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Eating a the worst seared ribeye I've ever made, rice a roni, and a 1/4 of a cucumber and mad that it's the best thing I've made this week >:(
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anon-kit · 9 months
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So @groguspicklejar recently responded to an ask that had me thinking of the Hannibal fandom and how Hannibal coded it felt like. I wanted to write an something for that snip because it gave me ✨spark✨ of inspiration to write after a long time of not having the energy to.
TW: References to Cannibalism, A little minor bit of a crossover with Hannibal
People always compare human meat to pork. And, yes if one were to make a direct comparison on taste, that would be true. But they had always preferred beef…good beef with the fat marbling from Japan or the ones with nice chunks of fat that seep into the meat itself making the meat so tender it melts in your mouth. Their favorite is the ones like the nice prime rib for holiday dinners that Papa makes along side the 'Special' roasts that Father makes. They like to laugh it off when people grimace at how rare they enjoy their food. But sometimes they get a little home sick or just a little too angry and have an urge to indulge, just a little. Not often enough to be a issue per say...but enough that a rumor starts because of it (always the enemy, after all one does not shit where they eat).
When they first left home they were proud to make their way up the ranks and their fathers were just as proud that they could safely indulge in the common hobbies without too much repercussion. The special forces were are all killers to some degree and there would always be prey. It also helped that they knew they would have to leave sooner than later, there is no room for two predators in one territory. Plus they had always wanted to see the world and had a life long fascination with England.
Of course there was an adjustment period of learning to take the verbal abuse of being a rookie and being uprooted from their home. (They needed to constantly remind themselves of the new hierarchy. It wasn't rudeness, it was just the way things were done.) Then there were rumors floating around but anyone who rose into the ranks of the special forces were always a bit peculiar. Right?
When they were introduced to the 141 they were quick to take in the handsome faces and dissect the team them down to their parts. Captain Price has the most delicious looking thighs. Lieutenant Ghost's torso has their mouth drooling with how tender it would be slow roasted. Sergent Gaz was almost too beautiful to think of eating (too kind to eat) but they wonder if his heart and liver would be just as tender and sweet as the man himself. Sergent Soap is a sly one but they think that a the man could be cut down to the basics to create a decently filling meal or perhaps if they ever had the time, a delightful sausage mix. The thought has drool gathering in their mouth that they swallow down loudly. Hopefully, it comes off as being intimidated by the larger men in front of them.
After the quick introductions, they shoot their new team a simple smile. No need to be rude, first impressions are important after all. It is what they were taught and it is what they do best. Now its time to bond and hope that their new team can accept them, eccentricities and all.
Papa always said, "If you have to kill, kill the rude" (And then Father would butt in with his two cents on the matter, "Eat the rude, it helps get rid of the evidence and is a delectable trophy"). It also helps that Papa and Father fell in love through violence, why couldn't they?
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simplyraeblue · 1 month
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Shooting for Mercury | e. kirishima Chapter Teaser
short teaser for chapter nineteen of my Eijiro Kirishima fanfic (>ᴗ<) this chapter is aaaalll about Emi (my OC) and Kirishima's first date! teaser word count: 595 words read the full work on Wattpad and AO3
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Their first stop was Takoba Municipal Beach Park, renowned for its breathtaking sunsets. Kirishima had insisted that the view from the waterfront was something she absolutely had to experience during her time in Japan, claiming it surpassed any beach in America. Emi wasn’t entirely convinced about that comparison but appreciated his enthusiasm.
“There are a few food trucks stationed just off the beach,” Kirishima said, keeping his hand gently clasped around hers as he led her toward the array of vibrant trucks. “We can grab some food and find a nice spot to picnic.”
Emi’s gaze landed on a bright green truck adorned with a neon sign shaped like noodles. “Is that a pad Thai food truck over there?” she asked, pointing excitedly.
“Yeah, is that what you’re in the mood for?” Kirishima asked, glancing at her with curiosity.
“If that’s what you want,” Emi replied with a playful smile.
“I want whatever you want,” Kirishima said, his eyes twinkling with affection.
Emi’s smile widened at Kirishima’s words, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “In that case, let’s go for the pad Thai. I’ve been craving something spicy.”
“Great choice,” Kirishima said, beaming as they walked over to the food truck. The delicious aroma of garlic, tamarind, and spices wafted through the air, making Emi’s stomach rumble with anticipation.
As they approached the window, Kirishima greeted the vendor and placed their order. Emi watched him interact with the friendly food truck owner, enjoying the casual and relaxed atmosphere of the park. The sun was starting its descent, casting a golden glow across the water, and she couldn’t wait to see the view Kirishima had been raving about.
Once they had their steaming, fragrant pad Thai in hand, Kirishima led her to a cozy spot on the sand, where a few blankets were spread out. The view of the ocean was indeed stunning, with the horizon painted in hues of pink, orange, and purple.
“Did you set these blankets up yourself?” Emi asked, glancing around at the carefully arranged spot.
“Technically, yes,” Kirishima replied with a grin as he helped her settle onto the blanket. “I think Tokoyami had just flown off when we arrived, so we owe him a thank you.”
“Tokoyami helped with this? That’s so thoughtful of him,” Emi said, touched by the gesture.
They settled on the blankets, and Kirishima pulled out a couple of disposable chopsticks, handing one pair to Emi. “I’m glad we came here. This place really does have a magical sunset.”
Emi took a bite of the pad Thai, savoring the perfect blend of flavors. “You were right. This is incredible,” she said, looking out at the horizon. “And this view... it’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”
Kirishima smiled, watching her with a mixture of pride and affection. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted to make sure your time spent in Japan was memorable.”
They ate their dinner, sharing stories and laughter as the sun continued to set, casting a warm, colorful glow over the ocean. The beach was tranquil, and the occasional sound of waves crashing against the shore added to the serene ambiance.
As the sun began its slow descent, Kirishima’s fingers intertwined with Emi’s, their warmth a comforting presence in the cooling evening air. He could have stayed there forever, lost in the moment with her, but he had more planned for the night. With a sudden, energetic movement, he stood up and extended his hand towards her. “Come on, I want to show you something,” he said with a grin.
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oddaodd · 4 years
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can you make one where the reader is the youngest maid in Tommy's house and she's helping serve the dinner for christmas and taking care of the kids and in some point Finn gets closer to her and try to flirt with her (she's just a few years older than him) and the reader don't know how to react but Tommy comes and help her (because he already likes the reader but don't get too close because she's too young for him) and by the end of the night when everybody is sleeping and they have sex
· A Whimsical Tale · 
Author’s note: I know we are no longer near Christmas but I love living a dangerous life so I’m just going to post this now.  
 Anddd I loved writing this story so thanks for requesting! and as always, I hope everyone has a lovely day. ❤️
Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol and a drunken Finn. 
·
Christmas Day was a heavy day on Arrow House and despite the numerous staff, there was always something to be done. Y/n was one of the youngest maids so she was never the one in charge of cooking and preparing dinner, instead she helped pour drinks and look over the children, which Y/n was thankful for since it didn’t require as much elbow grease as cooking for an abundance of people.  
“More wine Tomm...” she caught her mistake and made it up clearing her throat “Mr. Shelby?”
“Thank you, Y/n” He politely answered pretending he hadn’t heard her almost call him Tommy.
Y/n poured the wine with shaky hands hoping that nobody  had noticed her mistake and blushing cheeks. She knew Tommy didn’t mind her calling him by his name when they were alone, but she wasn’t sure if he would still be as lax on the topic if there were other people present.
As she poured some for Ada, Polly gave her nephew a knowing stare that indicated she had noticed and knew what it implied, which triggered complex emotions in Tommy.
He enjoyed Y/n’s company when she served him breakfast and lit the chimney in his office and when sometimes she engaged in conversation with him. She told him everything about her life, whimsical tales of mundane occurrences that sounded worthy of a novel. He wondered what kind of character he played in it.
He would be lying if he were to say that he only enjoyed having her around because she was good at her job. Truth was, Tommy felt infatuated with her and her bubbly smile and occasional kind words when he was feeling the world closing in, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it because she was much younger than him.
Y/n threw occasional smiles at Tommy through the night. She helped entertain the children while the other adults drank and enjoyed the evening. As the night progressed the alcohol began taking tolls, calling some to bed and inciting some others to questionable actions.
“Do you maybe want to go out sometime? Came Finn’s voice while Y/n tidied up around the kitchen.  
“Excuse me?” She asked even though she had heard him loud and clear.
“We should go out sometime” Finn spoke again in boozy confidence
“Um...” she began with an amused smile that disguised her discomfort for she wished the one asking were a different Shelby.
As if summoned by mention in a passing thought,  Tommy’s deep voice interrupted whatever excuse she was  machinating.
“Leave her be, Finn”
“But I’m not doing anything, Tom” he complained in a slur.
“You’re making a fool of yourself Finn” interrupted Arthur before dragging Finn away and out of the kitchen.
She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s eyes lingered on her figure before he left the room after his brothers.
After a while everybody including all the maids had gone to bed, Y/n stayed behind to have a cup of tea in the kitchen so she could mull over her feelings for Tommy in peace.
She had been attracted to him since her arrival to arrow house, but what began like a stupid crush soon turned into more complex feelings. She was always looking forward to seeing him and talking to him at late hours of the night at his office when he couldn’t sleep. She had tried not to think too much into his stares and considerate actions, but her infatuation with him had reached a point in which she couldn’t pretend not to notice.
She wanted his actions to hide a deeper meaning and she believed they did, but she felt her reasoning was tainted by her own wants. Tommy was significantly older than her and she felt immature in comparison.
“I knew you’d still be here”
She knew he would come.
She looked up from her teacup to the kitchen door to see Tommy strolling in. She forced a smile and shoved all her thoughts about him aside.
“Want a cup?” She signaled to the teapot as Tommy leaned against a cupboard.
“Alright” he said and Yn poured him a cup. His eyes following her every move. Her features seemed to be highlighted by the moonlight flowing in through the window making her look more divine than ever despite the tiredness hiding in her movements.
She felt an old wave of nerves creeping up her spine, making her heart beat faster and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t the first time Tommy and her were alone together, but that night’s air weighed differently.  
“Im sorry about Finn” he commented while she poured the tea.
“Its alright” she spoke softly walking towards him “Thanks for coming to my rescue”
Tommy’s mouth curved into a small smile, the way it did whenever she was around.
“Anytime” he said
“You are staring” she commented when she handed him the cup, noticing his gaze.
Tommy hummed taking a sip of his tea before placing it on the counter behind him, not even attempting to deny her accusation. “You look beautiful”
Her cheeks turned a soft shade of scarlet and her heartbeat quickened at his words. She wasn’t expecting him to say that. Still, she couldn’t help but smile at his honest complement.
Feeling comforted by the intimacy that the kitchen late at night provided, he cupped her face as leaned close to her lips. Y/n  did the same in a heartbeat and when their lips came together she felt a thousand matches lighting up inside her body.
She melted into the kiss as it turned more passionate, Tommy’s hands went to her waist, pulling her closer to him.
“Tell me to stop” he murmured against her lips.
“God no” she murmured back.
Tommy felt reassured knowing that she had wanted this just as badly as him and let himself get lost in the  soft moans and blissful sighs he coaxed from her with his wandering tongue and expert hands.  
Y/N hadn’t noticed Tommy began leading her to the table until she felt the cold surface against her lower back. Tommy prompted her up on it and smoothly hitched up her skirt. He ran his index finger teasingly along her clothed folds earning a whine from her pretty lips.
“Take them off Tommy” she pleaded.
Tommy complied and slid her underwear off her legs, his mind clouding at the sight of her, needy and wet in front of him. He kneeled in front of her and spread her legs open with his hands sending shivers through her body. Y/n felt her stomach drop in expectation at the sight of his handsome face close to her cunt.
“Tommy, ple..” Her place came short at the feeling of warm tongue on her sex. A teasing lick first that soon developed into passionate wet strokes and kisses  lapping against her folds and teasing at her entrance.
Her fingers tangled on his dark hair as she became a withering mess, submissive to Tommys experienced tongue. she felt her arousal building up, bringing her closer and close to the edge with each lick. She couldn’t get enough of him but she was eager to have him in her so bad.
“I need you inside me”
Tommy looked up at her with teasing eyes, her juices glistering on his chin and lips and when she felt the absence of his tongue on her she almost regretted being so impatient. But Tommy didn’t give her time to dwell on that regret when he went to passionately kiss her again and she felt his bulge through his trousers against her bare entrance.
Her impatient hands went to fumble with the buttons that held the basted trousers in place and Tommys went to assist her moments after, never breaking apart from the searing kiss, Y/n got a glimpse of Tommy’s cock and she felt like gasping when she felt Tommy guiding his head to tease at her entrance.
She moaned at the feeling and gasped when he pushed into her.
“So fucking tight” he whispered to her ear.
She sighed lewdly at his sinful praise and when he was fully inside her she felt so sinfully full she wondered how she could have lived for so long without this feeling.
She held onto his broad shoulders as he started pumping in and out of her, teasingly slow at first and speeding up deliciously with each thrust.
The table started creaking under her and the teacup and cup she had put there earlier fell off at their movements, loudly crashing onto the floor. She felt a twinge of concern about the noise, trying to break through the dense cloud of pleasure Tommy had summoned around her. However, Said concern became less and less concerning with each thrust of Tommy’s. It was the stuff of dreams.
He felt her clenching around his cock telling her that she was close. He wanted to make her cum, he needed to make her cum.  
He began rubbing circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves and soon after she came beautifully. Her legs tightened around his waist wanting to keep him close, still reeling in the aftershock of her orgasm as Tommy chased his own, which came not long after with a groan of her name. The expression of his face as he came into her was one Y/n knew would never leave her mind.
“What if somebody heard us?” She whispered as she collected her discarded garments with a smile.
“I hope they heard. Maybe that way Finn will know better next time”
·
@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz
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marshmallow-phd · 4 years
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Catching Rain
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Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe
Genre: Wolf!AU
Pairing: Minseok x Reader
Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?
Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue
**
The theatre was loud, opposite of its normally hushed nature. People were yelling back and forth, saws and drills screeching as they tore through wood. In the background, sewing machines could be heard, along with the occasional curse as the needle got stuck in the fabric. One person, however, was quiet, focused. The paintbrush in his hand was small. The hairs tightly pressed together in order to create the perfect details on the backdrop. Erik was hunched over, sitting cross-legged on the stage floor as he squinted at the distant forest he was perfecting. Setting your bag down in the second row, you headed up the stage stairs.
“Hey,” you said softly in order not to scare him. 
Blinking, he turned around. His glasses were on the very tip of his nose, having slipped from the slight bit of sweat that had conjured on his face from the glaring stage lights. With a green speckled finger, he pushed the frame back up to its proper position. “Hey! I thought you had a project?”
You shrugged. “I did, but… I kind of hit a wall and needed to give my brain a rest. I’m sorry, I guess I should have gotten lunch with you anyway.”
“That’s alright. If you want, I still have half of my sandwich left.”
Smiling, you ruffled his hair. “Thanks, I’m not really hungry.” Minseok’s dismissive response had ruined the idea of food for you. Later you knew you would be starving, but right now food sounded like a great way to churn your stomach and see what it had been brewing all morning. “I’m just going to go hang out in the seats, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “No one will bother you or question it. Not that anyone would notice in the first place.”
“It’s pretty crazy around here, isn’t it?”
“You missed the big explosion when Dorothy couldn’t find the armchair for the second act. Turns out, someone just leaned a piece of wood for the set against it and hid it from view. Still took us half an hour to find it.”
You snorted. “Wow. I’m actually kind of sad I missed that.” You kissed his cheek, careful to avoid a smear that you were sure he had no clue about. That stupid guilt knocked once again.
The seat was only slightly comfortable, the cushion long ago worn down from a thousand performances. You stewed there in the second row. Though it wasn’t appropriate during shows, you didn’t think anyone would care if you set your feet on the seat in front of you. Folding nearly in half, you hid your face from those who might look your way as you cranked the handle to get the gears in your head to turn. 
Confusion seemed like too weak a word to describe what was going on in your head. You were angry, frustrated, sad, relieved. There had to be some language in the world that tied those emotions all together. You just didn’t know it. Perhaps that one word could be the pill you needed to no longer feel this way. If you could shove all of that into a single box, you would be fine. But is it ever that simple? When you closed your eyes and tried not to think of anything in particular, Minseok’s face faded into view. You’d shake your head to drive the image away. It came back anyway.
You felt powerless against this unseen pull, this innate desire to see him again, even after what had just happened in the courtyard. Your mind made excuses, told you that if you simply asked him to explain then he would. Looking up at Erik, you sighed. 
There was no comparison because they were two different people. Erik was the sensitive artist, the kind who went to coffee shops on Friday nights to hear a mediocre guitar player sing his “poetry” because he believed everyone deserved an audience. Minseok, on the other hand, was a strange combination of math lab nerd and soccer team captain. He was goofy and dorky, easily amused by corny jokes, but also had the physique of someone who ran five miles in the A.M. for the fun of it. What you couldn’t figure out was what drew you to him in the first place. In any normal, not-already-dating-someone situation, you wouldn’t have been interested in his type. Yet, it was almost… effortless, being around him. Even after all these years, you sometimes had to force yourself into conversation with Erik. Comfortable silences didn’t exactly exist in your relationship, but you always chalked that up to your own personality. Now you wondered if those moments would be better with Minseok. 
Was this a normal thing? You heard stories of college sweethearts all the time and for the last few years, you thought you and Erik would join that club. You hadn’t thought about marriage, per se, but you hadn’t seen an end either. The idea of coming to a fork in the road had never occurred to you. While logic and third party advice you’d casually picked up over your life told you to stick to the left, you were being drawn to the right. One road you could easily see where it led, signs, clear pastures, and everything. The other way wasn’t as clear, disappearing into thick woods that were both inviting and foreboding. You didn’t know if there was another side for the road to come out to. The only way you would ever find out would be to follow it. 
You were able to sit there in that second row seat for a few hours, surprisingly, with your phone and the internet as your companion. Only occasionally would you contemplate that fork again. Left, right, left, right. Easy, hard, easy, hard. In the end, you decided you needed to see Minseok again to really decide. 
The stage manager called it quits late in the afternoon. Erik washed up his brushes and came to meet you. “Hungry yet?” You nodded, more for something else to do before you were alone again. “Good. I’m starving.” Taking your bag like the gentleman that he was, he waited for you to stand up and then walked you out of the theatre.
Dinner ended up being a small burger joint that Erik had been craving all day. You gave no complaints as you started salivating at the thought of their fries. Surely they had to have some sort of secret, addictive ingredient to make fried potato sticks so incredibly delicious. The two of you ended up splitting a large basket of the side. It stayed equally in the middle of the table so no one could say that the other was hogging. Yes. Safe. Easy. Seeable. 
Erik offered a follow up to dinner, but you feigned exhaustion (though there might not have been any faking truthfully, as your mind was tired from constantly running throughout the day). He walked you all the way to the door of your room. As usual, he told you goodnight and leaned in for a kiss. But unlike your normal anticipation, you flinched back to avoid his lips. He stared at you in confusion. Clearing your throat, you made it up to him by kissing his cheek before running for cover in your dorm. From the light of the hallway, you could see that Erik stood on the other side for a few seconds, hesitating to understand what had just happened, before finally walking away. 
Teeth clenched down on your bottom lip, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. Thankfully, Willa was still out so you were alone. The glare of your phone burned in the darkness. You squinted as you moved your thumb across the screen, unlocking it before opening the contacts. The number you wanted was easy enough to find. The pad of your thumb hovered over the little green phone. It accepted the slightest touch and switched over to calling mode. You placed the speaker to your ear. 
Rrriiinggg. Rrriiinnngggg. 
“Hello?”
You sucked in air. He’d answered. You didn’t have a plan for this. You didn’t have any sort of plan after pressing call. You’d hoped that he was one of those people who didn’t have a voicemail set up. 
“Hello? (y/n)?”
You hung up. 
**
Minseok watched you stalk off in the exact direction he wished you hadn’t. Anywhere else; he would have been fine with you going anywhere besides the theatre where your boyfriend was. His wolf growled and clawed with jealousy. Why was he so stupid? Since when was keeping his mate a secret more important than being with you? Of course he wanted to eat lunch with you, to see how you got along with his brothers. But the idea of Baekhyun figuring it out had caused him to panic. As obnoxious as Baekhyun could be, he wasn’t stupid. At some point during the meal, Minseok would have done something a little overprotective and Baekhyun would have started to connect the dots. Unfortunately, he’d already picked up on something. 
“Oooo, breaking the rules, are we?” The brat even had the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows at the eldest wolf. 
Not holding back, Minseok swung, hitting a good target on the upper arm. 
“Ow!”
“First, it's not a rule,” Minseok grumbled. “Junmyeon simply suggested that we don’t date. Besides, you’re one to talk. How’s Daisy?”
Baekhyun was hardly phased. He sported a cheeky grin. “She’s great.”
Bored, Sehun asked, “Can we just go eat now? Who cares who Minseok was flirting with?”
“I wasn’t flirting with her!” Minseok shouted. He explained in a lower voice, “She’s having trouble in her math class so I’m doing Sungkyu a favor and helping her out so she can pass. That’s it.”
“So why didn’t you want her to eat with us, then?” Jongin asked innocently. 
Minseok flinched. Jongin was more observant than anyone would give him credit for. Not that Minseok was subtle in any sense of the word. “I didn’t say that I didn’t want her to eat with us. Knowing you all, you would have let something slip about what we are.”
“Minseok, we all caught that she was willing to join us,” Chanyeol said. 
Huffing, Minseok grumbled, “Are we going to go eat or should I just go by myself?”
Shrugging off the odd behavior, Baekhyun turned and headed for the parking lot. Minseok was quick to follow, feeling smaller than normal surrounded by his pack members. In his head, he pictured himself running back towards the theatre, bursting through the doors, and - in true dramatic fashion - declaring you his. 
That would be a complete disaster. He should only do that if he wanted you to never talk to him ever again. 
Minseok hardly paid attention as Chanyeol drove them to his favorite pizza place. He was in a trance as the others took control of what to order. Physically, he sat in the booth next to Sehun with Baekhyun on the other side. His shoulder was pressed into the chipped wooden guard rail that ran along the wall but he hardly noticed the uncomfortable poke in his skin. His mind was still back at the campus. He was driving himself crazy trying to figure out how he was going to make this up to you, how he was going to explain his bizarre switch up to you. He hardly ate, which was fine since the others were more than happy to devour the three large pizzas with varying toppings. The others weren’t bothered by his quietness since it was nothing new. Minseok was always more of an observer than a participant. In a time like this, it worked to his advantage.
There was no consulting Minseok when the lunch was through. They all simply piled back into the car and headed out of town towards the woods. Vague mentions of going for a run were tossed around. Minseok didn’t voice any sort of agreement. He wasn’t in the mood. Ha. A wolf not in the mood to run wild among the trees? He really was turned upside down because of you. While the younger ones headed straight for the trees, Minseok headed up the porch and through the front living room until he came to the kitchen. Oh, thank god. There were still beers in the fridge. He grabbed one and immediately opened it, still chugging as he walked over to the breakfast booth. 
“Did you have fun?”
Junmyeon slid into the booth across from him. Minseok put the can down. “Yeah. At first. We had fun with the project. It was when the others showed up that things…  went bad.”
“What do you mean?” Junmyeon asked with a frown. 
“I… panicked. The others invited her to join us and I….” Minseok shrugged. 
“Worried that the others would figure it out?” Junmyeon guessed. The response was a nod. 
“Figure what out?” 
Shit.
Baekhyun stood in the entryway, looking back and forth between the eldest and the alpha. Minseok gulped. He thought that all four of them had gone out on a run and he hadn’t heard anyone else in the house. Stepping further into the kitchen, Baekhyun asked again, “Figure what out?”
Minseok looked to Junmyeon for help. None was to be found. 
“You should probably tell them.”
“I’m not going to tell just Baekhyun so he can go running and tell the others and exaggerate.”
“I can always call a family meeting.”
“I don’t want to make that big of a deal out of it.”
“Too late on that. Besides, that’s the best way to get everyone here. Get it out of the way.”
“Or to get none of them here.”
“I’m still standing here,” Baekhyun scoffed.
Minseok looked at him. “I know.”
Junmyeon sighed. “Baekhyun, will you go get the others? Tell them it's important?”
He nodded. “Sure. Be back in a flash.” He left, already shedding the hoodie over his head. 
Slumping down in the booth, Minseok felt defeated. Junmyeon sensed this immediately. “It really won’t be that bad. And they need to be prepared.”
“Prepared?” 
“Yes. Once a pack member finds the first mate, the others will slowly start to find their own. It won’t be immediate. It could take years, really. But it’s like a domino effect. They should be aware that it's their turn next.”
It made sense. The pack was always connected, both in mind and in instinct. But it had been just them for so long, the idea of bringing in mates to the fold was odd. Minseok wasn’t sure how the others would react. Fists clenched on the table, he leaned his head down. It took almost half an hour before the rest of the pack came back. Yixing had arrived first, coming back from a lab he was making up from earlier in the week. The rest came into the kitchen ten minutes later. They were knocking into each other as they yanked on shirts and pants. 
“Okay, Junmyeon, what’s the emergency?” Jongdae asked, very prepared to be his usual sarcastic, troll self. 
But Junmyeon didn’t reply, letting Minseok take the reins instead. Minseok didn't want to do this. He wanted to run, to keep his secret a little while longer while he figured this whole thing out. But Junmyeon was right. It was time.
“(y/n) - the girl that some of you met today… she’s my mate.”
It was pure silence in the kitchen. It was unnatural in this household. The only time it was ever this quiet was when the house was empty. 
“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said. “You said… mate? Right?” Minseok nodded. He growled.  “Fantastic.”
“You really found your mate, Minseok?” Yixing was more enthusiastic about the news. He looked elated, even. A small smile was creeping up. 
Despite the stunned silence, Minseok found Yixing’s energy infectious. “Yeah. I did.”
“Have you told her yet?” Chanyeol asked. 
“She has a boyfriend,” Jongin reminded him. 
“Oh. Right.”
“I’m working on it,” Minseok said. “I just-” His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, his eyes widened at the name popping up on the screen. With sixteen eyes on him, he answered, frantic. “Hello?” A gasp on the other end. “Hello? (y/n)?” You didn’t answer. Two seconds ticked by and you ended the call. He stared at his now black screen in shock. Then his brain started again. “I got to go.”
“Was it her?” Junmyeon asked. 
“Wait, I have more questions!” Baekhyun whined. Minseok was out of the kitchen in a heartbeat, jumping into his car and flying down the road. He didn’t know if you were hurt or in trouble. Why had you called him? Why didn’t you say anything? He was determined to find out. There was only one problem. 
He didn’t know your dorm number. 
You’d briefly mentioned the shared campus housing with your best friend, but that was all the information he had. Looks like he would have to find it the old fashion way. 
Asking. 
As soon as he parked, he headed towards the dorms, thankful at least that the two large housing buildings were close in proximity. He headed for the smaller cafeteria located in the lobby of the first building. The kitchen was closed but there were still students taking advantage of the open seating. Okay. Here it goes. 
The first few groups that Minseok asked had never heard of you. He was starting to berate himself on what a stupid idea this was. He should have called you back and asked you to call him when you were ready because it most certainly would have gone to voicemail. But his luck soon turned around. He approached a group of three girls sitting in a corner. One of them had a camera. 
“Excuse me?” They looked up. Minseok cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but I’m trying to find (y/n) (l/n)’s room. Do you happen to know her?”
One girl narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want to know?”
Minseok swallowed. “I… I have her notebook. She’d left it behind earlier at study group. She really needs it for class on Monday but I can’t get a hold of her.” Please believe his stupid lie. 
The girl who’d spoken made eye contact with her two friends. “She’s in room twenty-three-nineteen. If she doesn’t answer, just slide the notebook under the door.”
He could almost jump from elated joy. “Thank you!” 
Taking off, he headed for the stairs. Your dorm room was only on the second floor so it didn’t take long to follow the signs until he was right outside your door. Only now did the possibility that your roommate would be the one to answer cross his mind. What lie would he have to come up with then? He had to take the chance. 
After knocking, he waited, shifting from foot to foot in an attempt to release the nervous energy surging through his body. The door swung open. 
It was you. Thank goodness. 
You were not the same level of relieved. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Crap. He probably should have thought of that. “You called me.”
You looked back over your shoulder before stepping out into the hallway, letting the door shut behind you. “So? That doesn’t mean you can just show up here!”
“I need to talk to you.” 
You licked your lips. No, please don’t do that. It’s too tempting already to grab your face and kiss you against the door. Without speaking, you went back into your room. Well, that was a bust. But before he could walk away with slumped shoulders, you came back, this time with shoes on and your bag. “Let’s go.”
He gave no protest as you led him out of the dorm and into the dark. He had no idea where the two of you were headed, but he planned on embracing whatever came his way. The two of you were going to talk. His heart was thumping hard against his sternum. He was getting more alone time with you. Who knew what would end up flying out of his mouth in these next few hours. Would this be the night of truths and revelations?
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Christmas miracle| H.O
A/n: Surprise!! K, i wrote this for you! So, I wrote this for @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh 1K celebration. Wanted to post it earlier, but i changed my story a couple times. This week i decided to change it all to a Christmas special. It might not be Christmas anymore, but where i live it's still Christmas. Anyway, i hope you'll enjoy it.
Another note: the prompts that I used are bold and the italics are readers thoughts
Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x reader
Word count: 1.4K
Prompts: (16) "What's so funny" + (23) "I told you so"
Summary: Christmas miracles do exist! (Sorry I suck at summaries)
_____________________________________
It was the beginning of december and you were hanging out with the Hollands. It was a nice day, not too cold and no rain. Peaceful, you would say.
Harrison was spending time with his mother, Sam was working and Tom left an hour after your arrival. So, it was just Harry, Tuwaine and you.
The question what to do when youre bored wasn't easy to answer, except when it's december. Do something Christmas-y. And that you did. The boys didn't have a tree yet nor decorated their house, but luckily you were there to help them.
Their home was almost done. Tuwaine was searching for some more boxes with decorations while Harry and you finished the tree. And while you where doing that, the two of you were talking about Christmas. You would spend Christmas with them in the evening and visit you parents in the morning. It is going to be the first time celebrating Christmas with them on Christmas itself. You were excited for that, but still nervous.
"Ugh no, don't be! It's not that special, if you look at it realistically.  It's just us hanging out like we always do, only this time there are presents and so much delicious food. " Harry reassured you.
"I know, it's just the holiday stress. " you stayed quiet before saying "It's also because of the gifts i got you all. I really hope you and the others like it"
"Ofcourse it will be good. And if it's not, then it's good because of your intensions" Harry said elbowing you. You smiled as response
The subject changed to Christmas movies. Talking about how it's not realistic and making comparisons about real life situation.
"I'm just saying that things like that don't just happen. "
"Well, maybe its going to happen to you,  you never know"
"Yeah right, now why would that happen to me?" You asked a bit sarcastic
"A Christmas miracle!" Harry smirked
"Keep dreaming, harry " you shook your head.
As on cue, Tuwaine entered the living room with two boxes. The three of you continued decorating the house. When you were all finished you decided that it was time for hot chocolate and a movie, a Christmas movie of course.
A couple days later, you thought back at the conversation you had with harry. Why would he say that to me? What makes him so sure that something is going to happen?  Did i do something? Did someone else do something?!
"Ooooh" you said out loud. Harry knew.
You had crush on Harrison. He is one of you best friends and you had known him for a some years.
What can you say, you drowned in those ocean eyes.  Well, that and he is just an amazing person. He is kindhearted, funny, smart and the biggest div you know.
That you have a crush on him is put mildly, actually you fell deeply in love with him.
You played it off cool, at least that's what you thought. You never thought soemone would notice, it's not something you want to tell everyone, especially Harrison. It would kill you if you ruined that friendship.
And him being into you romantically is something that is not likely to happen .
Finally Christmas!
You were sitting in the car, getting ready to hit the road. The boys lived around an hour away from your parents. Luckily, it's not that bad, you just need a good playlist and you'll be there in a blink of an eye.
You arrived just in time for dinner. You walked through the front door and you could smell the delicious food Sam prepared. After you'd put your bags in spare bedroom, you walked to the living room. You were greeted with lots of cheering 'hey's and 'hello's'.
Sam and Tom brought their girlfriends. You hadn't seen them in a long time, so you were excited to spend time with them again.
After dinner, everyone sat in the living room by the Christmas tree. It was all very cosy. Just talking and having fun.
And then it was time to open the presents, which was very exciting.  Luckily, they all loved the gifts you bought them and you loved theirs. After everyone opened their presents, you all decided to watched a movie.
The guys went to change into comfortable clothes, while the ladies made some hot chocolate. Then, you and Sam's and Tom's girlfriend went upstairs to change.
You were the last one upstairs. As you walked back to the living room, where everyone was sitting on the couch and on the ground, everyone went suddenly quiet. It wasn't long before they started laughing, not loudly, just kind of giggling to each other. You stood still under the doorframe. You wanted to laugh with them, but you were so confused.
"What's so funny?" You asked them. You felt nervous, hoping there wasn't somthing on your face or something else that you could feel embarrassed.
"I told you so" said Harry. He smirked and that turned into a proud happy smile.
You frowned quizzically and you started to panick at little. What did they do?
You didn't know how long you had been quiet, thinking what it could be. When suddenly a voice came from behind you. You were startled by it. It was pretty close to you.
You didn't have to look to see who's behind you. That voice, that sweet and smooth angelic sound, could only come from one person. You still looked behind you, and of course you were right about to person who stood there.
"I think they're talking about this." Harrison said pointing up with his finger while looking at you with a significantly sweet, charming and gentle smile. Oh, that smile
Looking up, you saw it, a mistletoe. How did i miss this? Why didn't I just walk faster? So, now what?
So many questions were rushing through you mind. You were so zoned out, that you didn't notice that harrison stood even closer to you.
He placed his hand on the left side of your face and leaned in. You didn't realise what was happing, until you were brought back to reality by his soft lips touching yours. As a reflection, your hand rested on his chest, while his other arm was wrapped around your back.
You were kissing harrison! Actually he was mostly kissing you.
The kiss was truly amazing. It felt like kissing a cloud, so soft. The butterflies in your stomach were out of control, like they were exploding. Going off just like firework.
The silence was broken by loud cheering, some were also whistling at you and harrison.
The two of you parted, but still looked at each other. You were still confused and scared to be honest. Did he kiss you for the sake of the mistletoe or because he liked you?
Your face expression changed by the rushing thoughts you were having. You wanted to say something, but what is the right thing to say. There were so many people present when you shared your first kiss with Harrison. It's a little uncomfortable, especially because you don't know the real reason behind the kiss.
Harrison noticed your changed expression and pecked your lips again. Hinting that he is into you.
You smiled shyly and gave him a slight nod, signalling that you understood what he meant but didn't what to say or do anything right now.
The two of you joined the rest on the couch, hoping no one would start asking questions. They didn't, but they were staring and smiling at the both of you and wiggling their eyebrows. "Just start the movie already" Harrison said laughing to get the tension off of the two of you.
Everyone went to bed after cleaning up. Harrison stayed downstairs, while you went up. Couple minutes past before you came downstairs again.
"That kiss was something, huh" You stated shyly. You bit your lip.
"Yea, it was" Harrison said almost whispering. You both stood in the middle of the living room. The only light in the room came from the Christmas tree, which made the whole ambience feel so romantic.
"In case you didn't know, i really like you Haz." You looked at his eyes, stepping closer to him.
"I know." Harrison whispered and closed the gap between you. His lips dancing again with yours.
It really felt like a Christmas miracle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
K, I hope you liked it. At first i wanted to write something angsty, since it's your thing yk. You're an amazing writer and I wish I could write so smoothly like you. Love ya 🤍
Let me know what you think of this, feedback is more than welcome! 
And let me know if you want to be tagged :)
Tagging:
destiny's children @blueleatherbag @hjoficrecs @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh
Mutuals: @fanficparker @miss-nobody576 @puffpastrysucks @uglypastels if you don't want to be tagged pls let me know
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madpanda75 · 4 years
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“Taking Chances Part 8: A Case of the Ex”
Oh Sonny, what are we going to do with you? Actually I can certainly think of one or two things 😜 Anyways, welcome to Part 8 where we find out how the reader reacts when Sonny brought over his “mystery guest”  to dinner 👀 
Thanks for all the love with this series! You guys are amazing ❤️
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This couldn’t be happening. This was a dream. Yes, a dream. You were simply having a nightmare. It was an illusion. A succession of images that usually occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Any moment now you would wake up with Rafael’s limbs entangled around you like overgrown vines, heating your body. You swore that man was a walking furnace. From under the table you discreetly pinched your arm, wincing slightly when you felt the sharp pain from where your nails dug into your skin. Oh no. That proved it. This was real.
When you announced to your family that the engagement with Theo was off, you happened to leave out several important details such as coming home from work early one day to find him in bed with the flighty twenty-one year old who delivered your dry cleaning. Only your sisters knew the truth and you practically made them swear a blood oath that they wouldn’t tell a soul.
It’s not that you were a particularly private person. Being raised in the Carisi household, everyone was in each other’s business. But with Theo, it was different. He was your next door neighbor. You grew up together. You were the Mary to his Joseph in the Nativity play in the third grade. Your mom and his mom taught Catechism together. Breaking off your engagement left you heartbroken and you didn’t want to burden your family with the details. Your dad was recovering from a heart attack. Your mom had her hands full between caring for your father and worrying about her children. And then there was Sonny.  
Working with SVU over the years, you noticed a change in him. He was more quiet and cautious, even becoming a borderline realist—a stark contrast from the goofy, loveable, optimistic, older brother. You saw how Mike Dodd’s death affected him, even though Sonny tried to hide it from you. Then a year later during a night out at the bar, he drunkenly confessed that a perp by the name of Tom Cole had held him at gunpoint while he was trying to save a victim. You saw how his body trembled in fear, the tears in his eyes. Although you begged him to get therapy, he shrugged off your suggestion and told you to drop it. You never spoke of it again. The last thing you wanted to do was give him one more thing to worry about. Your life and all its troubles seemed to pale in comparison to the nightmare he had lived through.
Rafael glanced between you and the man who resembled an Italian Vogue model standing next to Sonny. “Is that who I think it is?” he mumbled. The tiniest nod of your head confirmed his suspicions.
So this was the infamous ex-fiancé. Theo was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome: chocolate brown eyes, thick shiny mane, and a dazzling smile which Rafael could’ve sworn were caps. Not to mention, he was in your age bracket.
Rafael slumped down in his seat a bit, feeling self conscious. He had always thought he was a decent looking guy. Walking down the courthouse halls with his swagger and sharp suits, he noticed several women and men eyeing him. But compared to Theo, Rafael felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Gina narrowed her eyes. “What is he doin’ here?”
“Yeah,” Bella added. “Shouldn’t he be out getting his dry cleaning?”
“Girls,” Julia scolded although she was just as surprised to see your ex in her dining room.
The last time Theo visited your parents was about two years ago when you both were making a seating chart for your wedding. Then one Sunday you came to the house alone with your eyes red-rimmed and puffy, announcing the engagement was off. You had claimed the reason was because Theo was moving too fast and that you weren’t ready to settle down just yet. But something told Julia Carisi that there was more to the story than what you were letting on, call it a mother’s intuition. Regardless of your mysterious breakup, your mother was not about to be rude to her new guest. She could give Emily Post a lesson in being a good hostess. Getting up from the table, she smiled and pulled Theo into a hug. “Theo, sweetheart. It’s so nice to see you. How’re your parents?”
“Great to see you too, Julia. The folks are fine. I hope it’s ok I’m here.”
“Absolutely. We have plenty of food.” Julia turned towards her husband. “Dom, can you get another chair?” Your father didn’t respond, still in shock over the sudden reappearance of your ex. “Dom!” She clapped her hands to get her husband’s attention.
“Huh,” Dom said, snapping out of his trance. “Oh sure.”
As your father left to get a chair, Sonny smiled and patted Theo on the back. “Let me grab ya’ a plate and some silverware.”
While your parents and brother were busy making your guest comfortable, Theo caught your eye and immediately made a beeline towards you. “Hey stranger.” Before you could even react, he wrapped his arms around you, his one hand pressed into the small of your back. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. You stood there frozen with your arms at your sides. It took all your strength to quell the wave of nausea rising in your stomach.
In Rafael’s opinion, the hug lasted much longer than what society would deem to be acceptable. His fists slightly trembled. He could feel himself quickly transforming into the ugly green monster within. “Hi,” he said, a little too loudly. “I’m Rafael. Y/N’s boyfriend.”
Finally letting you go, Theo turned towards Rafael and laughed before focusing his attention back on you. “He’s kidding, right?”
You immediately reached for Rafael, finding comfort in his presence by your side. “Actually he’s quite serious. Do you find that amusing?”
Upon learning that you and Rafael were together, Theo’s lips curved into a smirk that left you feeling uneasy. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order,” he replied and extended his hand to Rafael. “You’re a lucky man. There’s nobody like Y/N.” He glanced your way with a glint in his eye. “Nobody.”
Dom and Sonny came out of the kitchen with an extra chair and a place setting. “Here ya’ go, pal,” Sonny said. Theo took the chair and placed it right next to yours, reaching across you to grab some of your mother’s lasagna.
He took a bite and moaned. “This is delicious, Julia. I’ve sure missed your cooking.” His foot slyly nudged yours under the table causing you to scooch your chair away.
Being smushed in between your boyfriend and your ex-fiance was some sort of cruel torture. You were seconds away from lunging across the table and punching your brother, but instead you stood up. “Sonny, I need your help getting some wine from the kitchen.”
“Now? But we have wine here.” Sonny motioned to the Amarone on the table.
“Yes, but there’s a nice Chianti in the kitchen and it’s on a shelf that I can’t reach.” You crossed your arms and gave your brother a threatening glare. “Now or I’ll eat your liver with some fava beans. I hear it pairs nicely with a Chianti.” Sonny sighed and followed you into the kitchen.
You gripped the edge of the sink and silently counted to 10 in order to calm yourself before addressing your brother.
“So where’s the Chianti or did ya’ just bring me in here to watch ya’ breath,” Sonny remarked.
You whipped your head around and narrowed your eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Sonny innocently shrugged. “Havin’ lunch with my family.”
“Don’t be cute.” You tugged on your mom’s yellow kitchen gloves and began to furiously scour a greasy pan with a brillo pad, finding some sense of clarity in your angry cleaning. “I can’t believe you invited Theo. How dare you!”
“What’s wrong with that? Theo hasn’t been here in ages.”
“Yes and there’s a reason for it. We broke up or maybe you haven’t gotten that through your thick skull yet.”
Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand ya’, Y/N. First ya’ break off the engagement with Theo cause he’s movin’ way too fast even though you two grew up 6 feet away from each other for 18 years. But one month with Rafael and you’re ready for a colonial, 2.5 kids, and a collie?”
“My personal life is none of your business,” you growled.
Sonny scoffed. “Well actually it is my business since you are fuckin’ someone I work with.”
You dropped the dish you were cleaning with a violent clang, water splashing everywhere and took a few steps toward your brother. “Choose your next words wisely, Dominick Carisi, Jr.”
Sonny shook his head, his appearance akin to disappointment. It was hard for him to separate the woman you had become with the little girl you once were.  If he closed his eyes, he could picture you with your skinned knees and unruly hair coming out of your french braid, demanding piggyback rides from him. And even though that little girl was gone, you were still so young and naive about this world. There was so much you needed to learn.
“What happened to us, Y/N. I mean we used to be so close. I’m your big brother and I’m tryin’ to look out for ya’.” He tentatively put his hand on your shoulders, tilting his head lower to meet your gaze. “I’m doin’ this because I love ya’ and I want what’s best for ya’. I’ve worked with Barba for years. I know him and he’s not a good fit for ya’. You’re going to regret this.”
You fought back the sting of tears and tucked in your quivering bottom lip. You refused to cry in front of Sonny. Although you hated to admit it, his opinion mattered to you. It broke your heart that he didn’t approve of you and Rafael.
Just then the kitchen door swung opened, revealing your boyfriend’s handsome head poking in. “Everything ok in here?” He stepped into the kitchen. “Cause Gina is asking me when we’re gonna make her an aunt and that led to one of your nieces asking where babies come from and your mom is trying to eavesdrop on you both with a glass held up to the wall.”
“Why don’t ya’ mind your own business, Barba,” Sonny sneered. “I’m talkin’ to my sister.”
“Not anymore. We’re leaving.” You rushed past him and ran back out into the dining room, meeting the shocked faces of your family.
“Everything ok?” Julia asked. The shortness of breath in her voice indicated that she had just ran to her seat from her position near the wall.
“I’m sorry. We have to go,” you mumbled and made a mad dash to the foyer to grab yours and Rafael’s coats.
Your parents exchanged a worried glance and immediately followed you.  “Honey, are you sure? What about dessert? I made your favorite cheesecake. Please stay,” Julia pleaded
Your dad leaned forward and spoke softly, “Ya’ know if you’re upset about Sonny bringing that pretty boy punk over for lunch I can kick him out. For that matter, I can kick Rafael out too. Anything for my little patatina.” He grinned and booped you on the nose.
You faked a smile for your father. “That won’t be necessary, Pops.”
Julia smoothed down your hair. “Then sweetheart what’s wrong?”
The words were right there at the tip of your tongue. You wanted more than anything to confess everything then march over to Theo and crush his balls into powder. But one look at your family told you now was not the time, not when you were surrounded by your adorable albeit nosy nieces and nephews and your sisters who thought of family drama as a national sport.
So instead you hemmed and hawed, stammering over your words as you tried to think of a plausible reason for your sudden departure when Rafael spoke up behind you. “Actually it’s my fault,” he lied and wound his arm around you. “I’m so sorry. I got a call from work and I need to run over to the office for a few hours.”
Sonny followed Rafael into the foyer and arched a brow in suspicion, not falling for his excuse. “That’s funny. I never got a call from Liv about a case or anything.”
Rafael turned towards the detective and narrowed his eyes. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll be filling you in on the details later.”
“Well, let me pack up some food for you both. It’s the least I can do.” Julia gently cupped your face and patted Rafael on her way to the kitchen in search of tupperware but you stopped her.
“Some other time, Ma. We really have to go.” You kissed her and your dad and waved goodbye to the rest of your family.
“Thank you for a wonderful meal. It was nice to—” Rafael was unable to finish his farewell as you dragged him out the door.
“What the hell was that all about?” your dad asked Sonny once you had left.
Sonny ignored him and pushed past his parents to run out after you. “Y/N! Wait!”
You stopped in your tracks and turned towards your brother, slapping him hard across the face. Your entire body shook with rage, tears streamed down your cheeks. You felt completely and utterly betrayed by the one person you had relied on your entire life. “Stay out of my life,” you said in a shaky voice before getting in the car with Rafael and driving away.
You only made it one block when you had to pull over, your tears blinding your vision. Slumping over the steering wheel, your forehead connected with the horn causing the most pathetic little beep as you cried even harder. This was not how you intended the day to go. Rafael rubbed your back in soothing circles. “Shhh, it’ll be ok, hermosa. Everything’s going to work out,” he cooed.
“No it won’t,” you wailed and banged your head against the steering wheel several more times.
Rafael winced and tried to pull you away from the beeping horn, not wanting to create yet another scene. “Babe, stop. I don’t want someone from Neighborhood Watch to come out.”
You sat up and sniffled. “I’m so sorry about Theo and lunch.”
“I’ve experienced much worse during lunch. Trust me.” He handed you his handkerchief and ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you want me to drive?”
You loudly blew your nose and hiccupped. “Sure. Can you drive?”
“Of course I can drive. Now let’s trade.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of the car and swapped places. “Can I drive?” he mumbled, chuckling to himself. Of course he failed to mention that he only learned to drive a few years ago, never really seeing a need for it when he lived in Manhattan, one of the highest rated cities for public transportation. Once you were comfortable, he turned on the ignition and sped down the street, making his way back to the city.
*****
Sonny stood there, stunned, listening to the sound of your car screeching down the street. A laugh coming from the porch signaled his attention. “Ladies and gentlemen of Sycamore Avenue, behold the man who was just bitch slapped by his baby sister!” Bella announced.
Sonny rolled his eyes. “What are ya’ doin’ out here?”
“Ma wanted me to check on ya’.” She sat down on the front step and patted the spot next to her at which he begrudgingly obliged her request. She leaned forward and inspected the right side of his face. “Huh, interesting. I can make out a thumb print.”
“Stop it.” He crossed his arms and scooted away, trying to cover the one side of his face.
Bella shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an amazing big brother and I’m grateful for all you’ve done, especially with Tommy. But when are ya’ gonna realize Y/N’s not a little girl anymore. She is the most level-headed out of all of us that includes you,” she said with a smirk and playfully nudged him. “She knows what she’s doing and Rafael is an incredible guy. Ya’ have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not see that he adores her.”
“I just want what’s best for her and that’s not Rafael. You of all people should understand. Ya’ caught a glimpse of the world that Rafael and I live in during Tommy’s trial. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want that for any of ya.” Sonny sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, slouching as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders
“Hey,” Bella softly said, flicking her brother’s ear to get his attention. “I know your job is tough. I mean I can’t imagine the things you face everyday but ya’  gotta stop this. You have to stop living for this job, it’s gonna eat you alive. We’re all worried about ya.”
Sonny scoffed. “I’m fine.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me when was the last time ya’ went out on a date or ya’ didn’t wake up from a nightmare or ya’ took a vacation. Think about it.” She patted his knee and stood up to leave before turning back one last time. “Just don’t push people out of your life cause otherwise you’ll end up alone.”
Bella had hit the nose right on the head. He hated when she was right. Between law school and work, he hadn’t been living. When he wasn’t working, he was studying or taking a class or screaming in his sleep after having yet another nightmare of Tom Cole holding a gun to his forehead. In truth, there was someone who had caught his eye. Someone he had wanted to ask out from the moment he saw her and yet whenever he made an attempt, something stopped him.
Why couldn’t he just let everything go? Why couldn’t he live anymore? Sonny felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to topple over the edge, about to leave everything and everyone he held near and dear to his heart. Sitting there on the porch, he shivered a bit in the early spring air, unsure what felt worse, the sting of your hand across his face or the words you last spoke to him.
@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier​ @youreverycolor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @imagine-all-the-imagines @imjustreallynosy​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613  @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex​ @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg
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chestnut-b · 4 years
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Himawari Chapter 11
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Just like Iruka had, he stared at the dish in his hand. A firefly was resting on its edge, and its glowing reflection on the shining surface of the sake reminded him of a freezing, cloudless night on the northern coast, when he’d watched a full moon rise above the sea.
He remembered thinking; Iruka would have liked to see this.
After a silence that felt like an eternity, Kakashi heard a drip, followed by another. It wasn’t the kind produced by flowing sake, or the ones that signalled the arrival of a blessed rain after a drought.
It was a lonely, hollow sound.
Chapter 11 of a Demon Slayer AU
“Honestly, Iruka-sensei, I’m disappointed in you.”
“Hmmmm?”
Kakashi had moved through the forest with little trouble, much like Iruka had told him the first time they met. The Hashira had even bypassed the formalities at the gate, avoiding any manner of children or slayer on his way in.
He’d so looked forward to springing a surprise on the teacher, only to find him under the shade of that familiar tree, lying on his back with a book covering his face. The dappled light of the late afternoon sun that fell on his figure danced in tandem with the breeze.  
“I come all the way here hoping to catch you off guard, only to find you sleeping on the job.”
“I’m technically on my break, Hashira-sama.” his voice was muffled under the book, but it did nothing to hide his amusement. 
With a hand braced on the tree, Kakashi leaned over, plucking the book from where it rested.
Eyelids fluttered open, revealing a pair of dark eyes filled with mirth, along with lips that stretched into a wide, pleased grin. 
“Welcome back, Kakashi-san.” 
Without thinking, he replied.
“Ah, I’m back.”  
Kakashi offered a hand to Iruka, who took it after only the shortest pause, and he was pulled to his feet. The man favoured Kakashi with a curious glance.
“Quite a bit of luggage you have there. If I didn’t know better I’d have thought you ran away from home.” He teased.
“Not quite sensei, but someone told me that might have been your kind of thing.” 
Iruka looked at him with dawning realisation, but then had the sense to look a bit embarrassed about it. His cheeks, along with the tips of his ears, took on a reddish tint as he straightened the last of his uniform.         
“So you did meet sensei.” 
“I did.” Kakashi confirmed, beaming. He reached a hand out, fingers brushing the side of a reddening ear. He felt Iruka jolt slightly at the contact, but he quickly withdrew it, twirling a freshly plucked leaf between his fingers. 
“Thank you.” the teacher murmured, flush deepening. 
Well, Kakashi thought, at least he’d gotten one of the things he came for.
“You’re so lucky, sensei. Not everybody gets the chance to have a Hashira serve as courier for them.”
Iruka blinked at him.
“I come bearing gifts.” he announced, with an air of grandeur. 
“Wha-”
His query was cut off by a deep, gruff bark, and the sound of delighted, squealing children. 
“Senseiii! There’s a new dog come to visit!!”
Soon a hulking brown mass in a blue happi appeared, trodding its way towards them with Naruto and Lee clinging to its back. 
“Wow.”
“That’s Bull, isn’t he adorable?”
Iruka nodded dumbly, a little stunned, but his expression quickly grew stern.
“Naruto, Lee, off. Right now.” 
There was a petulant whine, but they did as directed. Bull looked a little relieved, and blinked at Iruka expectantly. 
“Word gets around sensei. He wants to know what the fuss is about.”
Iruka laughed as he crouched, circling his arms around the dog’s neck.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Bull.” he greeted cheerfully, giving the scruff of his neck an eagerly awaited rub. The hound made a low, pleased sound.
A bell began to ring in the distance, diverting Iruka’s attention. He returned to the tree, grabbing the wooden sword that had been resting against it before directing a slight bow Kakashi’s way.
“My apologies, Kakashi-san, I would have offered you some tea, but it’s time for class. You’ll have to excuse me.” 
Kakashi waved a hand. “I’ll catch you later, sensei.” 
He walked up to the man, and leaned in close. He could feel Iruka’s wariness skyrocket, along with Naruto’s annoyed stare boring into his back.
With a cupped hand, he whispered into the teacher’s ear. 
“Just so you know, we’re drinking tonight.” 
“Eh?”
“What are you two whisperin about?!”
Kakashi turned to Naruto with a finger over his lips.
“Oh, it’s a secret between us adults, sorry!” He winked.
“Please don’t tease him like that.” Iruka sighed.
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He turned to the boys. 
“Quickly, or we’re going to be late.” 
Lee sprinted ahead with gusto, and Iruka followed soon after, albeit at a leisurely pace by comparison. Naruto stayed just long enough to stick a tongue out at Kakashi before running to catch up with the other two.
The Hashira watched them disappear around the corner, and heard his hound, who must have been left feeling a little deprived, let out a soft whine.
“Bull, don’t get greedy.”
The hound’s only reaction was to blink at him slowly, clearly skeptical, and most definitely unimpressed.
-------------------------------------------
Dinner was just as he remembered, a rowdy affair. 
Kakashi took his usual seat beside Iruka, and though he’d smelled it first, his hopes were confirmed when he found grilled mackerel, and a steaming bowl of eggplant miso soup waiting for them. Nothing extravagant or fancy, but they were his undisputed favourites.
“I may have told them to prepare a little something to welcome you back, Hashira-sama, we hope it’s to your liking.” said the voice next to him.
In between regaling the corp members with stories of the past year, or indulging them with bits of harmless gossip about the other Hashira, Kakashi, for all his dignity and restraint, couldn’t find it in him to refuse the bowl that was casually nudged in his way. 
-------------------------------------------
Before they’d parted after dinner, he’d told Iruka to come by when his young charge was finally asleep. Even the assurance of a Hashira’s presence a room away wasn’t quite enough to dispel his worried expression, which he found a little odd, but eventually he gave in, nodding awkwardly.
So Kakashi waited. He’d sent Bull off earlier on another run, and now that he was alone, chose to bury his nose in a fresh manuscript that had been generously left behind for his perusal.
It was fairly late in the night when the silhouette finally appeared outside his room. 
“Come on in.”
“Please excuse my intrusion.”
Iruka stepped in, sliding the door shut behind him. Kakashi was suitably amused to see his friend grimace upon spotting the orange book in his hands.
He grinned in return, and gestured to the open doors at the other end of the room. It led to what was once a lovingly tended garden, now overgrown and wild. He heard Iruka’s breath catch when he finally spotted the light of dancing fireflies among the weeds and bushes.
“Take a seat, sensei.”
“All right. But just so you know, I make for terrible drinking company.” He warned, stepping outside. 
Kakashi soon settled beside him with a tray and the bundle he’d been tasked to deliver. He offered the teacher a wide, but shallow sake cup of a fine make, and Iruka’s eyes widened in recognition. 
“Isn’t this Kotetsu’s?”
“I might have borrowed it…...without asking.” 
Iruka shook his head, smiling. He took the small dish from his hand, the tips of their fingers brushing in passing. It was left by his hip before his attention was directed to the bottle that remained on the tray. He reached for it, intent on carrying out his serving duty.
Or at least, he’d tried to, before Kakashi grabbed his wrist in a gentle hold.
Iruka glanced at him, confused.
“I believe it’s a subordinate’s duty to pour for his superior.” 
“Well, technically speaking, I’m not your superior.” he explained, releasing his arm.
The teacher placed his empty hands in his lap with a muted smile. 
“Ah...I suppose that’s true.” 
Kakashi felt the sudden urge to kick himself. He didn’t need to ask to know what was probably going through Iruka’s mind. 
I’m not even a real member of the corp. 
Even though that really wasn’t what I meant. He thought regrettably.
“I hate to disappoint, but I’ll be doing the pouring tonight. You can relax, sensei.”
Between them, there was a brief silence.
“Kakashi-san, I didn’t get to ask, but what’s the occasion?” He asked softly.
It was here that Kakashi paused. To say something like “We’re celebrating your birthday” to a man who was so keenly aware of his waning mortality seemed...inappropriate. 
He hoped Sarutobi had a better idea.
Kakashi reached into his haori and fished out a sealed envelope, which he then passed to Iruka. He watched him unfold its contents, and as soon as he’d read the last of it, his lips quirked into an amused smile.
“Be sure to make good use of the time afforded to you, he says.”
Nope, the old man was not helpful, not in the least. 
This is going just swimmingly isn’t it.
“How late am I?”
“Hmm, about two weeks.” 
Kakashi sighed dramatically as he picked up the bottle. He could feel Iruka watching intently as he poured for the both of them. Clearly, it was not something he was used to seeing.
Iruka said his thanks before taking the cup in his hand. Kakashi nodded, taking the other one. 
“To eighteen years of dodging fate.”
“That’s just depressing, sensei. How about, ‘To not dying?’”
“I suppose I could drink to that.”
They toasted and took the first drink in one go. 
“Mmm, delicious.”
Iruka hummed in agreement. 
For a while, they drank in companionable silence, with Kakashi pouring dutifully. But Iruka was not an experienced drinker by any means, and so took his slowly, gazing at the fireflies in the garden between sips. 
“I wonder if sensei’s still mad at me.” 
“He did mention something about ulcers, but no, I didn’t get that impression.”
Iruka laughed. The scar on his face was now stark against his slowly reddening cheeks. Looking over the rest of him, he realised even his signature red cord and earrings were nowhere to be seen. Tucked behind an ear, his dark hair was loose, spilling past his shoulders in gentle waves over the top of his yukata and haori. 
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It was still Iruka, and yet not the one he knew. 
There was a stirring in his chest, a feeling that he might have labeled unease, but he wasn’t so sure. It might have just been the sake, warming his blood. Before he could come to a conclusion, Iruka’s eyes flicked, catching his, and instinctively, he looked away, with the odd feeling like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.
Not long after, there was a fond sigh. 
“Konohamaru’s going to be a handful.” 
“Troublesome sons seem to be a running motif in the Sarutobi clan.” 
“That does seem to be the trend.” he mused with a measure of self-awareness, taking a noticeably larger sip. He then turned to Kakashi and presented the empty dish, which was filled once more. 
“You’ve known Asuma a long time?”
“For as long as I’ve known their family.” 
“Hmm...I must say, you looked pretty cute as a kid. With that hairstyle and all.” Kakashi chuckled. 
It induced a strained, throaty sound, and he turned to see Iruka rub the bridge of his nose along the scar. 
“So you saw that one.” 
“The Senju have their share of odd traditions, but so do many ancient bloodlines, I’m sure.” He said in consolation. 
Kakashi briefly recalled what Tenzou had shared; that the Senju women generally lived longer, and were believed to be stronger. Thus, the act was seen as a prayer for health and vitality. All their descendants would be dressed as girls till the ages of seven or eight.
A tradition that Iruka’s mother carried with her, even as far away from home as she was.
“It seems Asuma hasn’t been back in a while.”
It made Iruka grow quiet, and he looked down to stare silently at his cup. It took a while before he spoke again.
“No, not since he found out about Naruto.”
“Ah.”
Then Iruka whispered something under his breath. It was so soft, that Kakashi wasn’t entirely sure if the man had meant for the words to leave his lips.
He suspected it had to do with how Asuma had acquired that knowledge.
Kakashi knew that not everyone was as open-minded as Hiruzen. He’d taken the child in, despite the fact that his wife had lost her life on the battlefield that day. She’d insisted on accompanying the Kakushi, providing aid on the sidelines.
Their squad ended up being ambushed by a Lower Moon. 
“Kakashi...is he doing well?” 
He might have raised an eyebrow at the lack of honorifics, but he ended up attributing that to the sake too.
Normally, he didn’t make the effort to keep up with the rest of the Hashira, and so whatever he knew, he knew from quarterly reports, or the squawkings of Gai’s occasional messenger.
“Well...Asuma’s keeping himself busy. I heard he’s taken on apprentices of his own.” 
Yes, and unlike Kakashi, the Flame Pillar was very much dedicated to keeping the rank and file members on their toes, the Kakushi included. If the slayers in this outpost thought he was bad, well, they clearly hadn’t gone through one of Asuma’s training sessions.
Or Gai’s, for that matter.
“I think Sarutobi has plenty to be proud of.”
“......Thank goodness.” Iruka said quietly, with obvious relief. 
Kakashi thought it a good time to bring out what the elder had saddled him with, if only to lighten the mood a little. He reached behind him, and handed the bundle over to Iruka, who put down his dish before taking it from him. 
The Hashira silently hoped its contents would fare a little better than Sarutobi’s greeting had.
“Don’t keep me in suspense now.” 
“Mmm.” 
He watched Iruka’s fingers, just slightly clumsier than usual, undo the knot of the furoshiki. Soon, like the petals of a flower, the bundle was soon open in his lap. 
Carefully packaged were some finely wrought throwing knives, a few books, a generous package of tea, and lastly, a shallow paulownia box. 
The teacher removed the lid, revealing another envelope. There was not a single crease, but it had started to yellow at the very edges. Clearly, it had been written years ago, and stored with great care.
The words “To Iruka” were brushed in a graceful, elegant script.
Iruka inhaled sharply, almost as if he didn’t dare release his next breath. 
Slowly, he ran his fingers down the characters almost reverently, and picked up the letter in his hands. They were trembling, If not due to the sake, then at least, from the wave of emotion that clearly overwhelmed him. 
“I’m sorry…...could you?”
“Of course.”
Kakashi took the envelope from his hands, gently undoing the seal and removing the contents. He handed the folded paper to Iruka, who held it in his palms just above his lap. When he finally gathered the courage to unfold it, Kakashi felt the need to look away, and so he did. 
Just like Iruka had, he stared at the dish in his hand. A firefly was resting on its edge, and its glowing reflection on the shining surface of the sake reminded him of a freezing, cloudless night on the northern coast, when he’d watched a full moon rise above the sea. 
He remembered thinking; Iruka would have liked to see this.
After a silence that felt like an eternity, Kakashi heard a drip, followed by another. It wasn’t the kind produced by flowing sake, or the ones that signalled the arrival of a blessed rain after a drought. 
It was a lonely, hollow sound.
“Iruka?”
There was no reply to the call of his name. Kakashi watched as the man rose shakily from his seat and walked barefoot into the grass, the fireflies shifting to allow him passage. He gazed at the floating beads of light wordlessly, the letter in his hand hung limply at his side. But his shoulders started to shake and without warning, the teacher dropped to his knees. 
Kakashi had already sprung from his seat, ignoring the spilled sake and fallen dish he’d left behind, but it was the sound of crushing, tearing paper that froze him.
The next instant, he was crouched before the man, gripping his trembling wrists with a strength he’d not fully intended, causing Iruka to drop the torn pieces in his hands. Even then, his head was bowed, eyes hidden behind a curtain of dark locks. 
When he finally spoke, it was with a voice so pained, Kakashi couldn’t will away the ache that gripped his chest.
“For all the pain my family’s caused…everything I’ve done...”
“There’s no way I’ll be going to the same place as them.” He whispered mournfully.
Iruka leaned into him, resting his forehead on Kakashi’s shoulder. The Hashira released the hold on his wrists, and with some hesitation, wrapped his arms around the teacher’s back, drawing him closer. He was now keenly aware of the cheek resting close to his ear, the warmth of the body and beat of the heart against his chest. 
It was the first time in living memory he’d held anyone this way.
“Even now...I’m still wanting to go back…” his voice had lost its strained edge. 
A place to return to...
“So why not go then?” 
“...Can’t. It’s so...incredibly far...” 
Kakashi moved to gather the man in his arms, and lifted him as he stood. Iruka was so far gone, that instead of bristling or fuming like he’d done the last time, he seemed to lean into his hold.
“Maybe we can go together one day.” 
There was no reply, but he seemed to feel the cheek resting against him rise in a small smile.
Kakashi wondered at the words that had just left his own lips. He wasn’t in the habit of making impossible promises, or any kind of promises for that matter, but then again, it seemed to be a night of many firsts for him. He found that the prospect of seeing the same view his father had, when he still lived, was not something he minded.
Not wanting to risk waking the man up, or worse, having to answer to Naruto, Kakashi settled for placing the man in his own futon. With the back of his hand, he cleared the bangs from Iruka’s  tear-streaked face, flushed and still warm. When he reached to move Iruka’s wrist under the blanket, his hand was caught by warm, gentle fingers.
“I did...try to warn you.”
“Maa...you’re probably better at tea anyway.”
There was just the tiniest, sleepy laugh, and Kakashi smiled. He returned the touch with a gentle squeeze of his own, before lifting the covers over his shoulders. 
Kakashi stood and walked to the open doors, but before he stepped back out into the garden, he turned to look over his shoulder, and whispered under his breath.
“Happy Birthday, sensei.”
-------------------------------------------
Iruka,
If you’re reading this, you must have just turned eighteen, the same age I was when I met your father. 
Happy Birthday. 
Up till now, you must have suffered, not just because of the karma our family has wrought, but because I’ve always known your path will not be an easy one. It will always be our greatest sorrow, to know we cannot walk beside you through it all.
The night I finally met you, a firefly landed on your cheek. If you’d been born a girl, I would have named you ‘Hotaru’, and your father would have scolded me, but he would have been happy all the same. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never smiled like he did that night. How cruel he was to have hidden that from me. 
Really, the two of you will always be my most precious gifts. 
Fate has dealt us a difficult card, Iruka, but you’ve been blessed with a strong body and a kind heart. We know you will use them well. 
For you and I, our lives are much like the fireflies, painfully short, but beautiful all the same. Don’t be afraid of happiness. Whatever path you choose, your future is your own. Cry, smile, laugh, and live a life you can be proud of at the end of it.
But take care, not to rush to meet us, for we’ll be waiting patiently, however long it takes, for the day we see you again.
Know that we love you, and that you will always be our pride and joy.
Also, don’t give Jii-ya too much of a headache. 
A small one is fine, but remember to be kind to the elderly.
Your mother, 
Umino Kohari
-------------------------------------------
At the edge of his awakening consciousness, he’d registered the sounds of soft breathing at his side. 
When he opened his eyes, he was met with a sight that was familiar, and yet not. Instead of a snoring, blonde child, there was instead a head of mussed light hair and a set of closed eyes. The one normally hidden by an eyepatch was bisected by a long scar that ran from the top of his eyebrow, down his cheek, and under the mask. So close, he could see the long eyelashes, dusted in silver.
Moving silently, Iruka sat up in the futon that he knew now, was obviously not his own. He rubbed at his forehead, hoping to dispel the last of the lingering headache that plagued him. The room was thankfully still dim. There was only the barest beam of light entering the room from a gap in the doors, along with a small draft of cool morning air that smelled of grass and dew.
He turned to look at the man beside him. Kakashi lay on his side, curled on the bare tatami and covered only by his haori. That he’d not stirred from his slumber the moment Iruka awoke was a testament to his exhaustion. 
He didn’t realise the trip back had taken so much out of him. 
Iruka gazed at the Hashira’s face for a moment longer, before the sound of shifting paper brought his attention to the low table across the room. 
Shifting the blanket from his legs, he rose slowly and walked towards it on the pads of his feet, passing by the wrapped furoshiki on the way there.
His eyes traveled across the desk.
A candle that had long burnt out.
An ink well and brush, still wet.
A stack of writing paper. 
An envelope, gently opened. 
Lastly, torn pieces of a letter, smoothed out, and put together like a puzzle. 
Iruka’s head started to pound as flashes of the night before started to play in his head. 
That’s right. I’d destroyed it with my own two hands. 
Reaching over, he picked a few sheets from the stack, his hands freezing as realisation dawned on him.
They were copies of his mother’s letter.
He picked up the envelope, thinking it looked strangely full with its original contents displayed on the desk. 
Iruka pulled out the sheet, briefly registering another smaller piece that had dropped onto the floor, but he’d ignored it, choosing to unfold what was already in his hands.
He took in a sharp breath.
Aside from the age of the paper, every stroke and character was an exact, perfect copy. 
I heard the Sharingan could copy techniques almost flawlessly, but this... 
He turned to look at the man behind him, and felt a surge of fondness blossom in his chest.
What did I ever do to deserve this? 
Placing the copy back into the envelope, together with the torn pieces on the table, he bent over to pick up whatever had fallen moments ago.
Familiar, frayed yellow edges of one of Sarutobi’s photographs. 
He flipped it over, and immediately, his lips stretched into a smile as he ran his thumb over the face of the sleeping toddler in the picture.
You’re so lucky, sensei.  
Iruka thought of Naruto, and he thought of Kakashi. 
He thought of his parents, and he thought of Sarutobi. 
I hate to admit it, but you win this time.  
Walking back to the futon, he slipped the now sealed envelope into the furoshiki as he passed. 
Iruka picked up the comforter from where it lay, and placed it gently over the sleeping Hashira. Silently, he kneeled beside him, taking in the scar, and the lines of exhaustion that ran under his eyes.
Later, he would ask himself what possessed him to do what he did. 
Perhaps he’d blame it on the lingering effects of sake, or the fact that once again, he’d been gifted the chance to hear his mother’s voice, even if it was just in writing.
Iruka ran his fingertips through the silver hair that covered Kakashi’s scarred eye, and carefully, silently, leaned over.
When he’d finally stepped out into morning’s first light, he didn’t notice the hooded, mismatched gaze that followed. 
-------------------------------------------
End of Chapter 11
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Author’s Notes:
Ahhhhhhh! A nice meaty chapter to chew on. (almost twice as long as usual!)
These things just end up writing themselves after a while, seriously. 
If you feel like, there’s a great song that I essentially wrote this chapter to (and also essentially a theme song for the entire story), I’d implore you to check it out. It’s “Moratorium” by Omoinotake > listen here <
Enjoyed the chapter, art or the song? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Terminology & Fun facts:
‘Hotaru’ - The Japanese name for fireflies. The other fun fact is that fireflies are also called “lightning bugs” *coughLightningHashiracough*
See you in the next chapter!
78 notes · View notes
ibelongtonegan · 5 years
Text
Triple Play (Negan/Reader/Simon one-shot)
This fic was originally intended to be my entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash​​’s birthday challenge ages ago, but then life and a moody muse turned it into a forever WIP. And yet I just could not get story idea out of my head and did not stop until it was completed.
My prompt was “Technology – Walkie Talkies”.
Summary: some secrets are better left untold…or are they?
Characters: Negan x Reader x Simon
Word count: 5,616
Warnings: angst, dirty talk, smut, swearing
Tags (tagging my forevers and those who expressed interest in this fic at some point): @negans-network​, @i-am-negan-trash​, @emoryhemsworth​, @ridingmoxley​, @ladysyn, @sleepylunarwolf​, @letsby​, @tatertotandcassie​, @annablack1102​, @genevievedarcygranger​, @daisysouthmoore​, @hughxjackman​, @ofxallxwexlost​, @negans-wife​
I appreciate feedback and most days don’t bite. So don’t be shy to comment, message or ask me anything!
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“Okay, Y/N, your turn. Dwight, Negan, Simon,” Laura chirped, her voice hissing with static. 
Your lips curled up into a wide grin as you raised the radio to your mouth.
“Fuck Negan, marry Simon, kill Dwight.”
“Damn, girl. That was quick!” Arat’s laugh echoed through the speaker. “You could have at least pretended to think about it for a minute.”
The Virginia sun was beating down with all its might as you made your way through the field in the knee-high grass. You retrieved the water bottle from your backpack, but the few gulps of lukewarm water did little to wet your parched throat.
Negan had sent out a search party for two workers who were stupid enough to break into the storage room and steal various supplies, but not smart enough to take a car to make their escape. It was just a question of time before they were captured, but you hoped it was going to happen before dinner. It was Friday, and tonight’s menu was going to be mac ‘n cheese. A hot meal and a cold shower, you craved nothing more. 
You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand while scanning the tree line for movement, but everything looked peaceful. Despite a badly decomposed walker that stumbled out of the forest about an hour ago, the search was uneventful. To kill time, Arat proposed to play ‘Fuck, marry, kill’ on the back-up channel, which she swore was safe from prying ears since nobody ever used it.
“Poor D, why would you hurt him?”
Laura could not hide the reproach in her tone. She had had a crush on Dwight since forever but didn’t dare to make a move on him, not even months after Sherry had married Negan.
“He’s a good dude, but not my type, sorry, not sorry.”
“Okay, what about Simon?” Arat chimed in. “I didn’t think you were the marrying type.”
The chorus of cicadas fell silent in the background as the transmission ended.
“I’m not, but I can’t fuck him too if I marry Negan.”
“Wait...what?”
An amused smile spread on your lips at the frantic reaction.
“Well, you know the rules. If you marry Negan, you can’t be with anybody else but him, right? But what if I want to fuck both him and Simon? The only way is to marry Simon and cheat on him with Negan. Or better yet, to coax them into a threesome.”
“Okay, I get Simon. He’s funny, has a killer swagger and that moustache must feel like heaven on your pussy,” Laura pondered. “But Negan…I mean, he’s hot, but also volatile, dangerous, and rough. He must be an animal in bed. I bet even his cum-face is scary.”
“I choose to accept the mission and find out for your peace of mind. I think he made Sherry come at least three times last night. Lucky bitch,” you sighed with envy recalling the sinful noises you overheard from Negan’s room.
“Then why don’t you volunteer to become a wife?”
“I worked my ass off to become a Savior, and will not give it up to sit around in the wives’ lounge, eat candy and paint my nails all day. I’d rather keep my job and fantasize about Negan and Simon while rubbing one out at night.”
The conversation was interrupted by your radio emitting a long beep, pulling you back to reality and the task at hand. You stopped in your tracks and switched to the primary channel.
“The search is over, we have the sorry shits in custody,” you heard Negan’s gravelly voice announce, his patience evidently worn thin. “Everybody get the fuck back to base now!”
You felt a pang of sorrow for the escapees. They were no doubt going to receive a painfully thorough ironing after dinner.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
An hour and a shower later you were on your way to the canteen with Arat and Laura in tow. The scent of melted cheese and spices filling the corridors made saliva pool in your mouth.
You devoured the plate of pasta within minutes and chugged two glasses of water to quench your thirst after the savoury meal. Feeling full and sleepy, you rested your chin in your palm, while Arat and Laura engaged in a heated debate over which of the newbie Saviors they wanted to fuck, marry and kill respectively. 
“Evening, ladies,” Simon stopped by your table, his hands resting on his hips. After giving the two girls a quick nod, his eyes settled on you. “He wants to see you, Y/N, in his room.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion. Negan didn’t summon anyone but his wives at such a late hour and he had never asked to see you in his room before.
“Something wrong?”
“Everything’s A-Okay. The boss man just wants to have a word with you in private. Let’s not keep him waiting,” Simon gestured towards the door, his usual smirk never faltering.
You stood up from the table and gave Arat and Laura a wink before following Simon out of the canteen.
“I thought he was going to punish the escapees after dinner,” you stated rather than asked while trying to keep up with Simon’s long strides.
“Tomorrow,” he muttered under his breath. “There’s another matter he wants to deal with tonight.”
His curt response caught you off-guard, but you attributed it to him being hungry, since you had not seen him at dinner earlier.
Simon led you to the top floor and stopped before a large mahogany double door. Knocking twice, he turned the knob without waiting for an answer, and motioned for you to step inside.
Negan’s quarters looked nothing like other parts of the Sanctuary. It felt like entering the suite of a five-star hotel and you couldn’t stop looking around in amazement. The room was lavishly furnished with furniture and accessories from an expensive interior design store the Saviors had looted on your first run. There was a giant four poster bed to your left, decorated with grey, satin bedsheets and neatly arranged pillows, and to your right a comfortable black leather couch with two matching armchairs surrounding a coffee table. A bar area was set up in the corner complete with leather stools and a selection of spirits. The private bathroom was hidden behind a black door on the opposite wall, but you imagined it to be just as extravagant. Negan had a taste for the finer things in life, like beautiful women, good food and his luxurious apartment was no exception. Your room looked like a mouse hole in comparison.
Negan was sitting behind his desk, several papers splayed out before him next to a tumbler filled with amber liquid. His leather jacket was draped over the back of his seat, but his signature red scarf was still draped around his neck. The soft glow of the desk lamp cast an eerie light on his face. He looked up from the ledger in his hand and beckoned you closer, pointing at the chair in front of him.
Simon strode over to the couch behind you and plopped down, the leather squeaking under his weight. You were surprised to see him stay, but Negan didn’t seem to mind his number two’s presence in the room. He took a small sip of his drink and leaned back in the armchair, studying you with an unreadable expression.
Negan had always treated you fairly, appreciating your scavenging skills and rewarding your hard work. You climbed the imaginary career ladder at the community from common worker to lieutenant thanks to your tenacity, courage and ability to handle Negan’s short temper and crude humour. Along with Arat and Simon you were one of his most trusted soldiers, carrying out his orders and accompanying him on runs. You had been infatuated with him from the start and often found your eyes lingering on your formidable leader, but seemingly he had never expressed an interest in you.    
With Simon your attraction began on your first run to Alexandria, when you were assigned to ride in the same truck and hit it off right away during the long journey. Simon was funny, smart and cute in a rugged way, and soon the two men occupied your dreams, with the three of you ending up having hot, messy sex on every vertical and horizontal surface imaginable. Yet, you did your best to act professionally around them, not letting your secret obsession interfere with your work.
“Something you wanna tell me?” Negan jolted you from your thoughts. “Anything you’d like to confess?”
“I’m not a religious person, sorry,” you pursed your lips to suppress a smile.
Simon snickered behind you, but Negan seemed unfazed by your cheekiness. He swirled his whisky a few times, his touch leaving random marks on the foggy surface of the glass.
“Okay, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I took an extra serving of the apple pie at dinner last night. It was too delicious to resist.”
Negan narrowed his eyes at you and stroked his chin, his gloved fingers scraping his salt-and-pepper stubble.
“Or if this is about the crime novel I haven’t returned to the library, I know it’s almost a month overdue, but I still have two chapters left and want to know who the killer is.”
You heard the sound before your eyes could register the motion as Negan slammed down his glass on the desk. You expected it to shatter into a million pieces, but the tumbler miraculously survived the impact, the ice cubes clinking against each other in protest.
“Careful, Y/N. You don’t wanna test my patience.” 
You gulped hard, feeling an uneasy chill go down your spine. Negan was usually up for jokes, but he was evidently not in the mood for them now, and you could not shake off the thought that you were the reason for it.
He stood up and keeping his gaze fixed on you rounded the desk before leaning against it, resting his hands on the edge. His crotch was level with your eyes, and you straightened up in your seat to avoid having to look at the impressive package in his pants.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you opted for honesty.
Negan pushed himself away from the desk and started circling you. His looming presence behind you made the hair stand up on your back, but you fought the urge to turn around.
“I don’t take lightly to my Saviors keeping secrets from me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you asserted but regretted it immediately when Negan’s face appeared in your peripheral vision.
“Bullshit!” he snarled against your ear. “What about that little girl talk over the radio this afternoon?”
His words made the blood drain from your face. Closing your eyes, you wished the ground would miraculously open and swallow you up.
“Imagine my surprise when during today’s run, I heard one of my top gals confess over the back-up channel that she was fantasizing about me and my right-hand man while rubbing one out at night.”
If the blood had gone from your face before, it now rushed right back up as you felt your cheeks grow hot.
“That shit made me very, very disappointed.”
Negan stepped back in front of you, and crossing his ankles leaned against the desk. The intensity of his stare made your heart sink. You tried to guess how much of your radio conversation with Arat and Laura he could have heard. If luck was on your side, he only caught the last part. If not...
…you didn’t even want to go there.
“We were just…joking. A silly chat between us girls to pass the time,” you shrugged, feeling perspiration bead on your forehead. 
Negan studied your face intently weighing your words.
“What do you make of this, Simon?”
“She’s lying, boss,” came the merry retort from the couch.
You head snapped around in protest but Negan grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, forcing you to look at him.
“I think you’re right,” he mused in a sing-song voice, his face so close that you could smell his body wash and the faint trace of whiskey on his breath. ”Get over here and give me a hand, will you?”
You heard Simon’s heavy boots cross the room and stop behind you. Negan gave him a knowing look and before you knew it, your arms were yanked back, and held firmly behind the chair.
“Where were we, doll?” Negan let go of your chin and crouched down in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “Oh, yes. You fantasizing about me and Simon nailing you.”
He licked his lips slowly and your eyes followed the motion instinctively.
“What’s the matter, Y/N? Cat got your tongue? You were very talkative over the radio earlier,” Negan taunted sardonically.
You closed your legs to put some distance between your bodies, but Negan squeezed your thighs in warning and forced them further apart.
“Tell me what you thought about last night.”
You squirmed in your seat, Negan’s command ringing in your ears in the deafening silence that followed.
“You said that you were listening to me fucking Sherry. What did you think about to get off?”
Your eyes went wide like saucers and you desperately tried to come up with a plausible excuse, but your mind went completely blank. Sharing a kinky fantasy over the radio with your best friends was one thing. But confessing it face to face to the very subjects of it?
“Careful, Y/N,” Negan warned sensing your stalling, his mouth tightening into a thin line. “I want the truth on this one.”
You went limp in Simon’s grip with an exasperated sigh. As much as you hated to admit defeat, they cornered you. You held your head up high and gave Negan a defiant look. If he wanted to hear the truth, you were going to tell him just that, consequences be damned.
“We were in the meeting room, at the usual Monday briefing for the lieutenants. I disagreed with your order, and we got into an argument over it. I knew that I was pushing your buttons but the more riled up you got, the more it turned me on.”
Negan looked at you with a faint smirk, as if the same idea had crossed his mind before.
“You decided that if I was bold enough to backtalk in front of your men, then I would also be punished in front of them. Simon pinned me down on the meeting table, and the two of you took turns having your way with me.”
Negan’s pupils dilated, the primal reaction urging you to continue.
“All the lieutenants were watching us with hunger and envy that they could only look, but not touch or taste me. I was completely exposed and at your mercy, and yet felt safe and in control of the situation, because that was exactly what I wanted. To be taken, dominated, marked and used for your pleasure. You kept teasing me, edging me, until I was a begging mess. And in the end, you came inside me, breeding me.”
Negan tsked with a shake of his head.
“And you were hiding all of this from me? Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But don’t worry, we will rectify the situation right now.”
Your heart dropped as the meaning of his words sank in. This was it. You were going to be demoted, lose your friends, the respect of the Saviors and could never go near Negan and Simon again. Or they would kick you out of the Sanctuary even. And all of this because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Now you knew why the ironing of the escapees had been postponed. Negan had deemed your punishment more urgent.
“You wanna pay close attention to this, because I’m only going to say it once. Hearing your dirty little confession over the radio made me and Simon hard as steel. So we decided to make your wish come true.”
You blinked twice, expecting to wake up from what seemed to be the weirdest dream you had ever had. You were never going to stuff yourself full of food before bed again.
“But I have two conditions. Are you with me, doll?”
You nodded weakly as Negan’s fingers drew a zigzag pattern on your jeans.
“One: as much as the thought of fucking you in front of my men is tickling my balls, I am not letting those fuckers lay their eyes on you. It’s going to be just you, me and Simon.”
The offer sounded more than fair to you.
"Two: you know well I don’t share my gals with anyone, except for when I have a moresome with my wives, and I only allow them to fuck each other because I get to watch. What’s mine is mine.”
Your breath hitched as he moved his hands further up, the tip of his fingers skimming the apex of your thighs.
“But since your fantasy involved my right-hand man as well, I’m willing to bend the rules just this once.”
Heat pooled in your belly as you watched him, mesmerized by his usually hazel eyes darkening to dark chocolate.
“So, tonight I get exclusive membership at your pussy bar, no exceptions. You will be my little breeding bitch only,” he stroked your clothed centre, eliciting a pathetic whine from you. “As for other parts of your body, sharing is caring.” Negan looked up at Simon flashing his pearly whites, before his eyes settled back on you.
You stared at him at a loss for words. One part of you was cheering you on to seize the opportunity and accept the indecent proposal, while the other was adamant that you were going to wake up any minute. Negan lifted his gloved hand to your cheek and traced your lower lip, expecting an answer. You let your body do the talking and opened your mouth to run your tongue over his thumb, tracing a shiny path on the black leather. If this was indeed just a dream, you were going to make sure it would be a wet one. 
“Damn, Simon, I knew she was going to be trouble from the moment we met her,” Negan drawled, his eyes heavy with desire.
Grabbing the back of your head he pulled you up and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth possessively. Simon pushed the chair out of the way and pressed himself into your back trapping your body between him and Negan. Even through two layers of clothing you could feel the outline of his hard-on, earning a low moan from you.
“Easy, Simon,” Negan grinned wickedly, sucking and nibbling on your neck. “We don’t want her to cum just yet.”
Closing your eyes, you rested your head on Simon’s shoulder to offer Negan easier access to your skin. Lost in the pleasure the two men were showering you with your right hand went to cup Negan’s bulge, while you grabbed the back of Simon’s head with the other and arched your back against him.
“Looks like someone’s eager,” Simon murmured grinding into your ass.
“She’s not the only one,” Negan hissed. “Let’s get her out of these fucking clothes, before I blow my load in my pants.”
He lifted your shirt over your head, and Simon unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off your legs along with your boots. You felt self-conscious standing before the two men in nothing but your underwear but Negan’s lustful gaze and the appreciative rumble in Simon’s chest chased all your insecurities away. Simon unclasped your bra and you dropped your hands to your sides, letting it slide down onto the floor. He went for your panties next, but Negan stopped him with a grunt, reminding him of the exclusive territorial rights he had established earlier.
Simon seemed unfazed by the setback and put his plan B in motion peppering your neck with sloppy kisses. He placed his right hand on top of yours, and guided it from his crotch to your front, tracing your belly button with the tip of your fingers, before slipping them inside your panties and brushing your slit.
His ingenuity impressed you, but Negan didn’t share the sentiment. 
“Hands off, Simon, her pussy is mine,“ he bared his teeth at him.
The primal gesture combined with the possessiveness in his voice made your insides coil with anticipation. Simon held his hands up with a smug look and licked his fingertips, his eyes closing in delight as he savoured the taste of your arousal.
Negan yanked your panties down, the disapproval over your complicity in Simon’s crime evident on his face. Simon kneeled on the ground and lifted the garment to his nose to take a whiff, before letting it fall on top of your discarded clothes.
“I think we should catch up with her, Simon” Negan suggested, his eyes drinking in your nakedness.
He took off his shirt revealing tufts of dark chest hair and various tattoos, some faded, some more recent looking. You heard Simon unbuckle his belt behind you and looked back over your shoulder to steal a glance. He was bulkier than Negan, his muscles defined, and chest fully shaved. You watched the piles of clothes grow by their feet until they stood before you completely naked, their cocks standing proud against their bellies. Simon’s was thick and veiny, Negan’s long and smooth, but both impressive in its own right. You bit down on your lip, yearning to taste them.
“Like what you see, doll?” Negan flicked his tongue suggestively at you. “Get on your knees and show Simon what that smart mouth is capable of,” he instructed pointing down on the ground. “But don’t make him cum yet.”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” you purred.
“We shall see when you choke on his dick,” Negan replied darkly before turning to his right-hand man. “Show her who’s the fucking boss here.”
Simon didn’t need to be told twice and placing his hand on your shoulder pushed you down on the carpet. You grabbed his cock and gave it a few pumps before licking off the drops of pre-cum oozing from the tip. He sighed out loud, as you closed your mouth over the head and sucked gently, enjoying the salty taste. You swallowed him inch by inch, tracing every vein with your tongue, until he was buried deep in your throat. His hands tightened in your hair to keep you still, eliciting a muffled whine from you, your lips vibrating around his length. When you could no longer fight the need to gag, you began to move, bobbing your head up and down.
Opening your eyes, you searched for Negan and found him getting comfortable in the chair you had been sitting in before. He was watching your every move, legs wide open, stroking himself lazily. You mirrored his pace instinctively and sucked on Simon in sync with his palm fisting his dick. Negan sucked on his teeth as he watched your cheeks bulge rhythmically.
You pulled back and swirled your tongue around the crown like catching drips from a melting ice cream cone. Simon lowered his hand to the back of your head, spreading his fingers wide for a solid hold, and started fucking your mouth with abandon. Your throat was contracting and burning with every thrust but you didn’t mind the discomfort, feeling a rush of blood go to your core from him using you just like you had imagined.
“That’s enough,” Negan barked, but Simon was too far gone in pleasure to listen, his eyes closed, and head thrown back. You kept your eyes on Negan to show him that you had heard him and doubled your efforts, forming a ring with your thumb and index finger around the root of Simon’s shaft, and cupping his balls in your free hand. You knew that you were playing with fire, but the thrill was too tempting to resist.
Negan’s mouth twisted into a snarl and he jumped up from the chair to advance on you, his manhood swinging with every step like a metronome. You felt a sharp tug on your hair and let Simon slip from your mouth, a string of saliva hanging off your chin.
“I said, enough!” Negan repeated and pulled you up into a standing position. “Simon, take a time-out before you bust a nut.” 
You felt him swat your ass hard and yelped in surprise.
“This may be your fantasy, doll, but I call the fucking shots here and will not hesitate to dole out some hard punishment, if you don’t follow my orders,” he seethed.
Still holding you by the make-shift ponytail he pushed you towards the bed and showed you down on the mattress.
“On your back, arms above your head.”
You laid back down against the pillows as you were told. Negan knelt between your legs and spread them apart by your knees.
“Well, would you look at this creamy little mess in here!” his eyes gleamed with unadulterated joy.
Getting on his elbows, he traced your mound with his lips, his mouth barely touching you, the combination of the scruff of his beard and his warm breath tickling deliciously. Your hands fisted the sheets as he licked your pussy from bottom to top, before dripping the tip into your opening, and lapping up your juices with relish. He peeked up at you through his long lashes, watching your reactions. His lips were sticky with your arousal as he ate you out shamelessly as if you had been his last meal on Earth.
You looked to your right to find Simon sitting on the couch, watching the two of you with drowsy eyes. He was trying hard to comply with Negan’s orders, but it was evident how much he wanted to touch himself as he fidgeted in his seat, his cock begging for attention.
Negan moved his tongue to your clit and sucked it between his teeth, the sensation exquisite and overwhelming at the same time. You cried out and digging your heels into the mattress lifted your body to move away from him, but he wrapped his fingers around your thighs holding you in place. His tongue continued its sensual assault alternating between slow, soft flicks, and fast, greedy slurps. The variation of the tempo and intensity combined with the thrill of not knowing what his next move would be was driving you crazy with want.
You bucked your hips to maximize the contact between your bodies, he, however, had other plans and sat back on his heels. Pulling you down by the waist until he was kneeling between your thighs, he lined himself up at your entrance and began grinding against your heat, coating his length with your wetness.
“Negan...” you whimpered and raised your pelvis to make him slide inside you, but he restrained you by putting his hand on your stomach.
“Not yet.”
Getting impatient you reached for his dick, but he slapped your hand away.
“I said, not yet! Simon, come here!”
You felt the bed dip and calloused hands pinning your wrists down on the mattress. Tilting your head to the side you continued to suck on Simon, eager to finish what Negan’s intervention had interrupted earlier.
You arched your back off the mattress as Negan pinched your right nipple and rolled it between his fingers. He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, before sucking it into his mouth and blowing on the stiff peak, his saliva feeling like a cool ointment against your overheated skin.
“Please...” you gasped, not sure if you were asking him to stop or to go on.
“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Simon gritted his words, the sensory overload of your lips on him, and the sight of Negan toying with you pushing him dangerously close to the edge.
“I don’t think so, Simon. But it looks like she will milk you dry any minute, and I want to fuck this pretty pussy raw finally.”
Negan positioned himself at your dripping cunt and slid inside, inch by inch. You cried out in ecstasy from the sweet pressure of him stretching you wide. When he was buried to the hilt, he remained still, and taking hold of your ankles, spread your legs wide.
“Look at that, Simon, how she is taking my big, fat dick like a champ?”
He finally began to move in a painfully slow rhythm, enjoying as your warmth enveloped him. Crossing your legs for a closer fit he placed your feet on his shoulder, the penetration so deep that you let out a cry with every thrust. Your entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and your damp strands of hair stuck to your forehead. You were exposed and at the mercy of the two men, but had never felt this free and complete. Tension was building in your stomach and you closed your eyes to absorb yourself in the moment.
Negan, however, pulled out abruptly, earning him a frustrated mewl from you that he rewarded with a slap delivered on your swollen clit.
“On all fours, doll. I want to fill this fertile pussy full of my cum.”
Simon let go of your arms and sat back against the headboard. You rolled over lifting yourself up on your elbows, barely able to support your own weight. Negan lifted your ass up and placing his palm between your shoulder blades pushed you down in Simon’s lap. When he was satisfied with the angle, he rammed into you again, his fingers digging into your hips. 
“Are you going to cum on my cock, like a good girl?” he growled and spanked your ass hard.
You cried out an affirmative and continued to pleasure Simon while chasing your own release. A few seconds later you felt every nerve ending in your body tingle and warmth spread to your core. Your toes curled inward as your body surrendered to the inevitable and waves of ecstasy washed over you, dulling your senses for what felt like several minutes. The vibrations of your moans around him made Simon succumb to his own climax. He started twitching and throbbing, before spurting his seed down your throat. You swallowed every drop hungrily before releasing his softening member from your mouth.
Negan let you ride out your high, and then picked up the speed again. Fisting your hair, he pulled your head back twisting your body in an unnatural shape as he continued to pound you. His hand curled around your neck, his fingers squeezing hard enough to make black spots appear in your vision and blood drum in your ears. Drops of sweat fell from his chest to your ass tickling down to your sides and onto the sheet as he rode you, not losing his rhythm for a second.
His moves became more urgent, until he buried himself inside you one last time. He groaned a series of expletives under his breath before biting down on your shoulder as he came inside you, coating your inner walls with his cum. His fingers released their grip around your throat, allowing much-needed oxygen to fill your lungs and a second orgasm, even more intense than the first, consume you. You collapsed on the bed all strength leaving your limbs, as the room came back into focus, your heightened senses perceiving everything all at once.
Negan rolled off of you onto his back, his arm resting over his eyes, as Simon laid down against the pillows, a sly grin plastered over his face.
“Damn, boss,“ he wiped his brow with his thumb. “If only all dreams came true.”
Your reply was a tired but satisfied hum of agreement. A girl could dream, but making it come true was so much better.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
You stirred awake at the break of dawn. Taking in your surroundings you realized that you were still in Negan’s bed. It was dark outside, but the first rays of the sun peeked through the heavy curtains. You felt spent and sore, your skin sticky with the remnants of sweat and dried cum. The bitemark on your neck was still tender, but you wore it with pride as proof of Negan’s claim over you. Turning your head, you found him lying sprawled out on his stomach, his breathing deep and even, but Simon’s side of the bed was empty, the wrinkled sheets cold already.
You sat up carefully, searching for your clothes in the dim light, when you felt a strong arm circle around your waist.
“Where do you think you’re going, doll?” Negan’s raspy drawl made you shiver.
“Back to my room?” you looked at him over your shoulder.
“Nuh-uh,” he pulled you back against his chest. “You are staying. I want you all to myself for round two in the morning. And after that I may even change my mind about fucking you at the Monday briefing.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” you tried to untangle yourself from his hold but were easily overpowered after a playful struggle and his expert fingers finding your tickle spot.
“Just sass me, doll, and you shall see, along with all the filthy ideas I have on my mind.”
The alluring promise made you relax against him, dark words whispered in the twilight lulling you back to sleep, and another fantasy taking shape in your imagination already.
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mpregstoriesetc · 3 years
Text
Slime and Punishment - deviantart
Vik’Tor, being an alien and all that, found himself learning new things about Earth every day. Like how it was fine for men to go topless in public but not for women, or that it was inappropriate to talk about your sexual exploits with strangers. Strange. Luckily, due to his meek personality, he managed not to embarrass himself too much.
More to the point, there were so many things from his culture that he took for granted, but humans had no knowledge of! He was the only Torran on Earth, at least as far as he knew: the rest of his tribe generally turned out to be warmongering morons, and they only took interest in visiting planets when they wanted to conquer them. Things were peaceful here, and he’d found a cozy little town that accepted him.
Now he was working odd jobs, mainly to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He was only 29 moon-strides old, after all...he had plenty of time to discover his passions. Today’s job was filling in for a rich family’s gardener. Apparently the man had been struck by a car and flattened like a pancake, and someone needed to take over while the doctors were reinflating him. Vik didn’t mind the work: in fact he quite fancied a good day of honest labor. But, come lunch time, he was positively famished.
He tucked into a double-decker mustard and eggplant sandwich and swiftly downed a concoction of his own creation, lemonade and Bloody Mary mix. Others found his tastes revolting, but he loved finding new flavor combinations. The real star of the show, however, was dessert…
“Pardon me, but what is that you’re eating,” came a soft feminine voice from behind him. “I simply must know, it smells so wonderful!” Vik turned around, locking eyes with a slender young woman with caramel-colored skin. Or perhaps it was a particularly short man. He wasn’t sure which, nor did he know if it even mattered.
“Ah, this?” Vik remembered just in time not to talk with his mouth full, and promptly swallowed. “We call it korrupa, it is a traditional dessert amongst the Ulvions.” He held it up: a shimmering orb of green that seemed to have a life of its own.
“Oh, so that’s what your tribe is called? Fascinating.”
“Well,” said Vik awkwardly. “Not exactly. My people conquered their planet and slaughtered all of their men.”
“Oh.”
Even with his obvious lack of social skills, Vik could tell the conversation was grinding to a painful halt. “Well, the good news is that it is quite easy to get korrupa delivered. Did you know that this town has one of Earth’s only transdimensional portals?”
The short one shrugged. “I’m not surprised. I’ve lived here all my life and I learn something new about this place.” He fidgeted, looking plaintively at the glossy green glob that Vik was devouring. “Do you mind letting me have a sample of your korrupa? I’ll take just a tiny bit, but my chef’s curiosity is just eating me alive! I must have some!”
Vik paused. “Well, Missus, or Mister, or whatever Earth honorific suits you best, I don’t know if you would be suited to trying some...it is quite filling, and you are quite small.”
This earned a little titter from the short one. ��I’ll be able to handle it, I assure you. Oh pardon my manners! I haven’t even introduced myself. Camille, no Earth honorifics necessary.” Camille offered one hand out to shake, the other to take.
“I am called Vik’Tor...but you really must consider! It could be ill-suited to your digestive tract! Or perhaps there would be some other unforeseen consequences…!”
Camille stuck his tongue out cutely, reaching out and grabbing the korrupa. Vik realized then how tiny the Earth creature was in comparison to him; his hands were like a child’s in comparison to Vik’s own, hefting up the wobbly substance and bringing it to his tiny little mouth.
The young man moaned softly, his slender lips wrapping around the korrupa and slurping it up eagerly. Within seconds the shimmering green mass—about the size of an Earth coconut—had disappeared down Camille’s gullet. “Oh! Pardon me,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to eat it all...but it was like it had a mind of its own! Hehe. It was remarkable, though! Absolutely delicious.”
Vik looked noticeably crestfallen at the loss of his dessert but didn’t bring it up. However, something that Camille had said sparked a realization inside him. “Oh, you did not know? Korrupa is a sentient creature, it would be quite accurate to say that it does indeed have a mind of its own. Were you not aware of this?”
Camille’s cheeks went noticeably green at this. “Oh dear. Did I just devour an alien without knowing?”
“Fear not,” said Vik, waving his hands quickly. “They are not harmed by this. In fact, they often reproduce inside warm, damp enclosed spaces. Us Torrans have rather dry insides, so we are not affected much. But I do not know about Earth creatures...”
Said Earth creature went even greener. “Oh dear...oh dear indeed.” His cheeks bulged slightly, as if about to gag. “I might have made a rather costly mistake…” But now Vik saw a truly bizarre sight: Camille’s face starting to glow. Not from the skin directly, but almost beneath it somehow. Most prominent were his cheeks—a bright lime green—which had really begun to puff up now. His lips, starting to run out of room on his face, began squashing into an askew O shape, the tiny opening revealing a growing colony of korrupa inside his mouth.
His belly began harboring the telltale green glimmer of his cheeks, the boy’s shirt quickly becoming near-translucent as the slime found a larger reservoir to reside in. Camille’s midriff, previously so thin as almost to be famished, started to bloat rapidly. Although not quite resembling pregnancy, his stomach was now so round and fertile as to immediately invite the comparison.
Camille gave a throttled moan, the korrupa inside his mouth jiggling as words tried in vain to escape. He gave Vik a desperate look, his hands unsure whether to cradle his burgeoning belly or try and unload the cargo inside his mouth. After a slight hesitation, they chose the latter. But as his fingers tried to pry apart his lips, a thick strand of the sentient goo snaked out and slapped away his hands.
“Korrupa do not like the breeding process to be interrupted,” said Vik weakly. “Although they do have a vested interest in keeping their host alive, so you will not have to worry about bursting or suffocating.” Small solace to Camille, who was now bent over with the weight of his ballooning belly.
His shirt, now so tight and see-through as to be mistaken for plastic wrap, was quickly starting to lose structural integrity. The only factor impeding the growth of his gut was Camille’s thin leather belt, now drawing taut and threatening to bisect his torso. The boy lurched forward, his hair falling over his face; if he could talk, it would undoubtedly be a deep moan of discomfort. Momentarily impeded by the belt, the korrupa moved further south to Camille’s rump, making it expand in much a similar fashion.
“I am aware it is rude to say ‘I told you so,’ but I did try and warn you of possible side effects,” mumbled Vik, avoiding eye contact and twiddling all four of his thumbs. “Had I known this would happen, I might have been more cautionary in my advice.” It brought him no pleasure to see this Earth creature inflate like a balloon, especially considering that korrupa could incubate for quite a while depending on compatibility with its host. Should he try and contact other family members? He knew they’d be around soon; would it look worse if he left Camille? Or if he just stayed there passively? There wasn’t much he could do at this point anyway.
Ping! The belt popped off, sending Camille’s belly wobbling like a bowl full of jelly. It might be mistaken for jelly at any rate: glossy, jiggling jelly that had an unearthly shine to it. It was a near perfect orb of green, only dimpled by his sunken-in navel, hanging off his torso rather awkwardly. It had become so big and distended by this point that it hardly seemed like an actual part of the young man, like a second-rate prosthetic. But there it was in both sets of his cheeks too, drawing his skin tight as more and more goo forced itself inside him. His face had become comically wide, two coconut-sized mounds of glistening green alternatively pulling his lips together and apart as they bounced softly. His behind was starting to catch up, though, his buttocks blimping up and making short work of his shorts.
Camille was short, even for a human, but nonetheless it was a surprise to see his tummy touch the ground. It was certainly less of a strain on his body now that gravity had done its work, but nonetheless he wasn’t exactly happy he’d gotten this big. His rear had already broken free from his shorts; but since Camille’s crotch was awkwardly mashed against his underbelly, his dignity was somewhat preserved. Were things slowing down? He was so enormous now that it was hard to tell.
Vik, having inwardly cursed himself for his inaction, decided to finally take off his upper garment and lay it across the boy’s bare butt. However, one last growth spurt caused the fabric to suck inwards, instantly getting lost inside the cleft of Camille’s ass cheeks. Well, he had tried. The young man could only sit there helplessly, the weight of his posterior threatening to pull him backwards, only anchored by his much larger stomach. Vik didn’t know every detail of domicile etiquette, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t a good idea to be standing near-naked in your backyard.
“Well...I should probably get back to work,” said the alien awkwardly, slowly shuffling away. “I hear your family has a dinner party tonight...it would certainly be embarrassing if the garden was only half-finished.”
And, seemingly unaware of the supreme irony of that statement, went back to planting the petunias. Maybe Camille would share some korrupa once he was done breeding it...
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emospritelet · 4 years
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Desperation - chapter 14/16
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Also prompted by @kelyon​
[AO3]
x
Despite how comfy she had found the couch, Belle had to admit that sleeping in a proper bed was better. She stretched her legs out as she woke, enjoying the space around her in the warm sheets, and squinted at her watch. Eight-oh-four. Wow. Guess I needed the sleep.
She lay on her back for a moment, trying to assess how she was feeling. Still no cough, and no tightness in her chest, which was good. She felt a little drained, though, and her limbs ached, so she clearly wasn’t better. Perhaps she simply had a mild case. Lots of people did, after all.
Voices were floating up the stairs: Gold warning Bae to be careful, and not to drop anything. Belle glanced to the side as she heard Bae’s thumping footsteps on the stairs, followed by a knock on the bedroom door.
“Come on in,” she called, and he pushed it open, sidling around the edge of the door with a plate held carefully in his hands.
“I brought you French toast,” he announced. “It has maple syrup on it. We didn’t have fresh berries, but Papa and I went blueberry picking last summer and put them in jars in some sugar syrup, and they’re just as good. And we sliced up a banana from the grocery box.”
Belle sat up with a smile, pushing herself up on the pillows. Her arms wobbled a little, but she managed to get herself into a comfortable position in which to eat. Bae set the plate on the nightstand and stepped back to watch her reaction. Plump, glistening blueberries were scattered across a thick slice of French toast with slices of banana, the whole thing drizzled with amber trails of maple syrup. The toast was golden-coloured, its edges the dark brown of caramel, and she licked her lips.
“It looks delicious,” she said, deciding not to mention that her sense of smell seemed to have abandoned her, and Bae nodded.
“When Papa said you were sick too, I thought maybe you’d want something sweet, like I did,” he explained. “I can’t get apple pie from Granny’s, but maybe this will help.”
“That’s good of you, sweetie,” she said. “I’m okay, really. Just a little tired and achy. I’m sure I’ll feel much better tomorrow. Especially with you taking such good care of me.”
“Papa made the French toast,” said Bae at once. “I just brought it up.”
“Well, it looks yummy.”
She picked up the plate, setting it on her lap, and Bae flopped into the chair, watching as she took a bite. Sweetness burst across her tongue, but she was dismayed that she couldn’t seem to taste much beyond that. I suppose of all the symptoms I could get, loss of taste isn’t too bad in comparison, she thought. Bae was watching her anxiously, and she made noises of enjoyment.
“It’s really good,” she assured him, and he beamed.
“Papa said he’d bring you some tea,” he said. “He says you should stay in bed and let us look after you.”
“And I’m not going to turn him down,” she said. “I’ll do as he suggests. At least for today.”
She cut another piece and popped it in her mouth, and Bae swung his feet restlessly, kicking the chair legs.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?” she said.
“I’m all set,” he assured her. “Today we find out which dinosaur species we get to read about. I hope I get ankylosaurus. Will you help me do research?”
“Of course I will,” she said. “Do you have any books on dinosaurs?”
“Only one,” he said gloomily. “I wish the library was open now.”
“So do I.” Belle wiped syrup from her plate with a piece of bread. “There’s a ton of information online, though. I’ll help you look.”
“Okay.” 
Bae looked more cheerful, and Belle ate another mouthful of toast.
“Do you miss being at school?” she asked. “Playing with your friends?”
“Sometimes.”
“Seeing them on Zoom isn’t the same as playing outside, I guess,” she said, and he shrugged.
“No one’s mean on Zoom, though.”
Belle frowned, chewing a mouthful of French toast.
“Has someone been mean to you?”
Bae shuffled his feet, shrugging again and looking uncomfortable.
“Some of the kids make fun of me because I don’t have a mom,” he said. “They say you can’t have a proper family without a mom and a dad.”
“Well, they’re wrong to say that,” said Belle firmly. “Families come in lots of different shapes and sizes, and there’s nothing to say that you need to have a mom and a dad to be a proper family.”
“That’s what Papa says,” said Bae, looking happier. “They’re just mean. They make fun of Paige, too. She doesn’t have a mom. But she has two dads, so I guess that makes up for it.”
Belle smiled, digging into her toast with a fork.
“I don’t have a mom, either,” she said, and Bae looked interested.
“Did yours leave, like mine did?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“No, she died.”
“Oh.” He looked sad. “Mine just left. She said she’d come back, but she didn’t.”
Belle wanted to hug him.
“Do you remember your mom?” she asked, and he wrinkled his nose.
“Kind of. She had dark hair like you.”
“When did you last see her?”
Bae shrugged, pulling a face.
“She called,” he said. “The Christmas we came to Storybrooke. Papa had put lights up all around the porch, and we just finished decorating the tree, and he was smiling. Then the phone rang and he answered it and he stopped smiling.”
“Did you speak to her?” asked Belle, and he nodded.
“She sounded kind of weird, but she said she’d come visit,” he said. “She said she’d come on Christmas Day and she’d bring me presents, but she never did.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said gently. “That sounds hard. Maybe she’s sorry for what she did. Maybe she’ll come back one day.”
“I don’t want her to,” he muttered, his feet kicking faster. “She’s a liar.”
Belle tried to think of something to say that would help, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs made them both glance around. Gold put his head around the door, a steaming cup of tea in one hand, and smiled.
“Thought I’d bring you some tea,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m not too bad,” she said. “If I’ve got the virus, it at least seems to be a mild case.”
“Good.” He came into the room, setting the cup down on the nightstand. “Bae, class starts soon, could you go and brush your teeth, please?”
“Okay.” 
Bae gave Belle a wan smile and shuffled out of the room. Gold frowned after him for a moment, but turned back to Belle.
“The hospital is sending out nurses to take tests to try to pin this thing down,” he said. “I put a call in this morning to report all three of us feeling sick. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” she said. “It makes sense, if we’re to beat this virus.”
“Positive results might result in longer periods of isolation, that’s all,” he said. “I’m hoping not too long; a lot of people in this town will suffer if they can’t work. But at least it means we won’t infect anyone else.”
“Any word on how the rest of the town’s doing?” she asked, and he eased himself into the chair that Bae had vacated, resting the cane between his legs.
“The Mayor is giving a briefing at six today,” he said. “Should be an update then.”
“Okay.” She put her head to the side. “How are you doing?”
“Still not back to running on all four cylinders, if I’m honest,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Still, no rest for the wicked. I thought I’d finish Granny’s books today, as soon as Bae’s done with school. Can’t get them back to her, but at least it’ll be done for when I can.”
“Don’t exhaust yourself,” she warned. “You look tired. You’re getting over a serious illness, you need to make sure you rest.”
“I will.” He smiled briefly. “The couch isn’t too bad, is it?”
“Not as comfortable as this,” she said, patting the bed beside her. “You could always take a nap, you know. I don’t mind.”
Gold’s tiny smile widened a little, his eyes twinkling.
“What would the neighbours say?”
“Well, I won’t tell them if you won’t,” she said bluntly. “Come on, it’s your bed.”
“Yes, and you’re in it.” 
“I don’t mind moving,” she said. “Which side of the bed do you usually sleep on?”
The smile became a grin.
“If I lie down next to you, I won’t get up again.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
Gold shook his head, looking amused, and pushed to his feet.
“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her empty plate. “There’s too much to do.”
“Okay, but at least promise me you’ll get some rest later,” she called, as he left the room.
“I promise! Now take your own advice!”
His voice drifted in through the door, and Belle grinned, wriggling down in the bed a little to drink her tea. Gold needed someone to look after him, if he wouldn’t do it himself. The role might as well fall to her, for as long as she was staying with him. Though she suspected he’d want his bed back at some point.
x
She stayed in bed for most of the day, only getting up when it was time for dinner. Nurses from the hospital had attended, covered from head to toe in protective clothing as they used swabs to take samples from all three in the house. The results were confirmed quickly: three positive tests. Gold answered their questions on the dates when symptoms had first appeared, and on that basis he and Bae were told to observe quarantine for a further seven days, and Belle for fourteen. Gold nodded agreement, looking a little anguished, if not surprised.
Mayor Mills appeared on TV just as they finished dinner, looking poised and sombre in her two-piece suit. She read out the latest figures: two hundred and eighteen cases, twenty-seven residents in a serious condition in hospital, thirteen deaths. After a moment of remembrance for each of the victims, she ran through the latest medical evidence, and what the anticipated numbers would be as the effects of lockdown were assessed.
“Storybrooke has always been a strong community, and this time of crisis is no exception,” she said. “I know the residents of this town will do everything in their power to help keep their neighbours safe and well. If you have been told to extend the quarantine due to positive tests, please do so. I realise that people are concerned about their jobs, and the effect that lockdown is having on their ability to feed their families, but we must all do our part to defeat this virus.”
She looked around, dark eyes flashing, expression one of firm resolve. 
“As Mayor, I promise you that I will do all I can to ensure no one goes hungry, and that jobs and businesses recover from this,” she said. “The deliveries of groceries will continue until lockdown ends. I’m meeting virtually with local business owners and medical experts to discuss what needs to be put in place to allow the town to open up safely, and I hope to have some news on that next week.”
The briefing ended, and Gold turned off the TV, leaning back on the couch with a heavy sigh.
“What does it mean?” asked Bae.
“It means you’re probably having Zoom classes for at least another three weeks,” said Gold.
“I don’t mind that too much,” said Bae. “Can I watch TV now?”
Gold passed him the remote, getting up and heading for the kitchen to clean up, and Belle went back upstairs to lie down for ten minutes. She was still aching a little, as though she had been doing hard physical work that day, but she hadn’t developed a fever, and she was hoping that meant that her symptoms were as bad as things would get. 
x
She woke with a start to find that it was almost eleven at night. 
Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, yawning widely as she pulled her slippers back on to head to the bathroom. When she had finished washing her hands and had splashed a little water on her face to revive herself, she headed downstairs. Lights were still on in the lower floor of the house, and she was thirsty. Perhaps Gold would join her in a cup of something before turning in.
She found him in the kitchen, seated at the kitchen table with an empty cup beside him. He was tapping away at the laptop, occasionally checking the pad of paper to his right. His brows were lowered, a faint look of desperation on his face.
“Hey,” she said, and he started, looking around.
“Belle.” He smiled, but there was only a weary resignation in it. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “I feel much better. You?”
“Fine, fine,” he said vaguely, running a hand through his hair.
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
Gold sighed, slumping back in the chair a little.
“Just going through the budget,” he said quietly. “God, I hope the Mayor finds a way to open things up in this town. If she doesn’t, things are gonna be extremely tight around here.”
Belle moved a little closer.
“When you say ‘tight’...”
Gold looked up at her, his expression steady and grim.
“I mean there won’t be a cent to spare,” he said. “It’s gonna eat up everything I managed to put aside against emergencies, and even then I’m gonna have to be very, very creative.”
He shook his head, turning back to the laptop, and Belle wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, to send him some comfort. Her fingers seemed to hesitate, hanging in the air as she watched the light shine on his hair, and eventually she let her hand drop to her side again.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess with the town closed up for weeks, you won’t get many requests for bookkeeping.”
“Not for another few months, I reckon,” he said grimly, looking around. “Those businesses that do manage to open up again, they won’t be in a position to pay me. Things are going to be - stretched.”
“Does this call for more foraging in the woods?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Once we’re allowed out of the house, yes. Can’t pass up free food.”
“At least you know what you’re looking for,” she said. “Maybe you could teach me. I’ll help you pick berries and mushrooms and maybe I won’t poison us all.”
Gold grinned, but there was a weariness to his face, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.
“You may think it’s pleasant, Bae and I growing our own food and foraging in the woods, ” he said. “And it is, don’t get me wrong. I love him and we’re happy in our little house in this little town. But it’s - it’s hard, Belle. Being poor, especially when you’re a single parent, is hard. It’s constant. You can’t take a day off and just - just be. You’re always planning, always thinking. Budgeting down to the last penny, hoarding and making do and cutting coupons or bartering with the neighbours. Hoping and praying that nothing breaks, that you won’t get sick, that you won’t lose work. It’s - it’s a never-ending project that you can’t hand off to anyone else.”
The smile fell from her face at the look in his eyes, an expression that was almost pleading.
“I didn’t mean to make light of it—” she began, and Gold shook his head.
“No, please, that wasn’t a criticism,” he said. “I - well, to be honest, I just wanted to rant for a moment. I can’t do it in front of Bae, you see. I don’t want him to worry.” 
“I know you do whatever it takes to make sure Bae doesn’t want for anything,” she said quietly. “You’re a good father. A good man.”
Gold smiled, looking grateful, and eyed the computer screen again.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “It - it probably isn’t the best time to have an extra mouth to feed, is it?”
Gold looked around.
“I’m not blaming you, please don’t think that,” he said quickly. “I’m so grateful you stayed with us, Belle, I truly am. It’s just - well…” He gestured helplessly at the spreadsheet on the screen in front of him.
“I can contribute,” she said.
“That’s not necessary…”
“No, please!” she insisted. “You’ve been providing for me since I moved in, and - and I haven’t had to buy any of my own food since I did, and out of the two of us I’m the one still getting paid, so it makes sense I give a little back.”
“You’ve already given us so much,” he said, and she gave him a level look.
“Yeah, but none of that keeps the lights on, does it?” she said. “If you won’t take money, sell me something.”
Gold blinked at her.
“What?”
“Sell me something,” she repeated, and hurried to the larder. “Like… I don’t know, some of that really delicious cherry jam you made. I’d love to eat that in the mornings when I finally head back to my own apartment. How much?”
“Belle…”
“Or - or maybe you could make me something,” she said. “You knit, right? I could use a new sweater.”
Gold fixed her with a flat stare.
“Belle,” he said. “I’m not taking your money. You’ve more than earned a place here. All you’ve done for us - it wouldn’t be right.”
“But—”
“I mean it,” he said firmly. “Please, don’t distress yourself. I’ll find a way. I always do.”
She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head.
“God, you’re stubborn.”
Gold sent her a brief, slanting grin.
“As I recall, you said it was adorable.”
“Almost adorable,” she corrected, and his grin widened.
“I stand corrected.”
Belle sighed, leaning back against the kitchen table, feeling an odd mix of amusement and frustration.
“Don’t suppose there was any wine in that grocery box, was there?” she asked, and he chuckled.
“I’m afraid orange juice was as exciting as it got,” he said, and hesitated. “Actually - I do have a bottle somewhere.”
“Really?”
“Was gonna save it for - well, who knows? Christmas, maybe?”
“Oh, in that case we don’t need to open it,” she said hastily, and he shook his head.
“It’s not as though it’s an expensive bottle,” he said. “Just that I don’t drink a lot, so there seemed little point in opening it just for me. But - well, maybe it would be nice. If you and I had a drink together.”
He looked hesitant, uncertain, and Belle smiled warmly.
“I would like that.”
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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 128
128
Lance had snapped. Being tired and hungry did that to a man. He’d hit the point of exhaustion where he’d gone over and lost the plot... Lotor held him down as Ezor stuck her arm in his mouth. Her blood tasted gross, forced down his throat until he had the strength to get free... Then had kind of lost it over everything. He’d tried to rip the door off its hinges, hands burnt because of it. His temper tantrum stopped by Lotor, but the damage was done and he was moved from the others. With his ego beyond his ability to rein it back in, it’d taken five vampires to hurl him away from his friends, earning him a black eye and a broken nose... yet a nicer room, despite the fact he promised to behave himself if they just put him back with the others. He hadn’t even seen Curtis as friend once the blood started flowing into his mouth. Everyone had just been a source of food, with his ego being okay with that.
Dragged through what Lance now knew to be a house and not some kind of warehouse, he chained to a bed by his feet and his wrists, a collar around his neck with chain linking to the chain between his wrists. The bars of the bed groaning with his strength, yet refused to yield under his force. Hit by the full realisation of what he’d done, he’d curled up the best he could around his chains, crying himself to sleep over how violent he’d been.
He’d been in the bedroom for a few days now. Away from the others they brought him food. Human food that did nothing for his blood cravings, and blood capsules that he’d forced himself to swallow down so his body was at least getting some form of blood. The other vampires seemed wary of him now. Despite being able to take him in his weakened state, they came in a group of five. Two would guard the door, one would throw his food on the bed, one was armed with a cattle prod and another with what Lance could only call a dog catching pole. The steel comprising the loop was no joke. It’d been wrapped with razor wire that he was sure would decapitate him if they felt he was misbehaving.
Next to the bed was a bucket, Lance barely had enough chain to roll over to use it, resulting in him messing up his clothes and the bed, not that his captors cared. He was permitted one 5 minute bathroom break a day, where the was observed for the whole thing and Mr Cattle-Prod would stand right up near him with the device hovering near his back. He’d make the mistake of moving too fast to grab toilet paper and had been dropped by the device so fast he’d smacked his head on the toilet. Still, Lance hoped for all his mistreatment that they hadn’t laid a hand on Curtis. Zethrid, Acxa, and Ezor all fell under Lotor’s protection. Curtis had no one now. He bitterly cursed his outburst and attempt to escape when they’d come to subdue him. Had he kept his head level, he wouldn’t have been taken from his friend.
This waiting thing sucked. All sorts of thoughts coming to mind. Their captors were careful. He hadn’t caught a whiff of Sendak’s scent, nor was his name mentioned. Nothing important was mentioned at all... so all he had time for was his own thoughts. Like if he’d ever see Keith again, or if he was destined to die... or if Lotor had been lying and in on it all, with this whole thing being a charade or an attempt to extract information from him. He didn’t know how to feel. He really missed Keith, but he missed his Mami in a whole other way. Coran would be taking care of her, yet Coran had nothing to say that could reassure her. Lotor had left VOLTRON instead of doing all he could to help there, where his help would have been more appreciated and they could have all been out of here by now. Sleeping was the only time he could relax... forced to deal with the cuts and scraped around his ankles and wrists if he moved too much.
He was never going to complain about Keith hogging all the blankets again. Nor was he going to complain about his boyfriend’s inability to human before coffee, not that it really sucked. Keith was too unbelievably cute as he stumbled around seeking cuddles and guidance. Lance was as scared as he was tired, and frustrated that he wasn’t strong enough to withstand this forced captivity. Keith would be strong. He’d be quiet, brooding, until he worked out how get himself free. He wouldn’t go around having tantrums. He would have figured out how to get the cuffs off by now. Lance had tried to channel Keith and pick the locks with his nails. All that’d happened was he’d chipped them. Biting them broke his teeth. He was quite certain his captures thought him insane. He was acting insane.
There was only so much he could do chained down to a bed. Thanks to his little outburst he didn’t even know the way back down to the basement, so if he did break out, he’d be caught without being able to do anything for the others. Fuck. He’d even take being locked up with Lotor for the company over his own thoughts... yeah, he really was going insane... but... if Lotor actually helped him... No. Nope. No. It’d been days locked up in the room with nothing. He didn’t even bother trying to initiate conversation knowing he’d be abused if he did. Had Lotor planned something then surely things would have been in place and his arse would have been rescued by now.
*
Keith was not above torture. He wasn’t the saint Lance made him out to be... but his friends were literally the only thing he had left now that he’d been sent down to the VOLTRON staff quarters. Isolated for his own good. What a load of shit. Shiro was still in the briefing room, where he should be... not sent to rest like a little kid when he could sleep perfectly fine in a chair beside Shiro
Hearing a knock on the door to his room, Keith very nearly called out to tell them to fuck off, before remembering the rooms were sound proof and he’d actually have to face whoever was on the other side of the day. He was supposed to be resting. How could when Lance had been gone six days now and Shiro had been working his arse off for the last 4? Dragging his body off the bed, he rubbed at his tired eyes. Sleep hadn’t been his friend. He’d slept when Shiro slept because he’d believed Shiro was okay and he thought maybe with his brother back in action they would have located Lance by now.
Hearing the soft knock again, it irritated him. Striding over he flung the door open to find Miriam standing on the other side. Shit. Yeah. He hadn’t been the best person around, and he definitely wasn’t winning any awards when it came to checking up on Mami. With her standing in front of him, he didn’t know what to say. Both of them staring at each other before Mami gave him a sad smile
“Oh, my poor boy”
Shuffling forward, Keith tensed as Mami wrapped her arms around him. The last person to hug him had been his brother. Mami was tiny in comparison. Her head coming up to his chest
“M-Mami?”
“I’m glad you remember who I am. I’d be very sad if you forgot me”
Way to make him feel even shittier about himself
“What are you doing here?”
“Call it an old woman’s hunch. I thought you could use some company”
No. He really couldn’t... but he couldn’t say no to Miriam. Mami squeezed him tight before moving her hands to grip Keith’s arms lightly
“Ah... I can hear your thoughts my boy. Don’t you worry, this old bird came bearing gifts”
Keith didn’t know when Mami had the chance to cook, only that she’d brought food down to him. The bag left by the doorway when she’d shuffled in for a hug. Opening the bag, everything smelt delicious, until he caught sight of a certain bottle
“Mami!”
Mami chuckled. He supposed he sounded how Lance did when he was scolding her. The bottle of vodka wasn’t full. Mami was definitely some kind of grandma rebel
“That’s to share. I know you haven’t been taking care of yourself. Lance would have kicked you into the shower by now. My nose might just fall off”
Okay. Maybe he hadn’t showered in a little while...
“My mind’s been elsewhere”
“On our Lance. I heard about what happened with our Shiro and the others. He wouldn’t want you letting yourself go like this. Now, there’s some soap in the bag, I want you take a nice warm shower, and I’ll get dinner organised”
How was Miriam so composed? Her youngest was missing. Possibly being tortured and she... was there. With dinner, alcohol and an ungodly amount of patience. Keith found himself questioning her good intentions. He’d let her son be stolen away. Lance wasn’t back and he was... being useless. He wanted to scream. He wanted to drag in as many vampires as he could and force them to tell him where Lance was. He was acting like the Keith he’d used to be. The Keith who had nothing to lose.
“Why? Why are you here?”
“Because my boy, it breaks my heart to see you suffering”
She had to be suffering too... He had no right to
“But Lance is your son...”
“And he’s your boyfriend. Our Lance is strong. He’d be broken hearted to see the man he loved in so much pain. I have faith that our boy will come back to us. Now off to the shower with you. I had to pull many strings to sneak away from Krolia. Woman was giving me more grey hairs with her worrying than I know what to do with”
Lance probably thought he’d given up on him. He wouldn’t rest if their roles were reversed. How could he look his boyfriend in the eye?
“Do you... do think Lance will still love me?”
Miriam chuckled at him, Keith feeling self conscious knowing she was laughing at him
“My boy. That son of mine is absolutely crazy for you. Always talks my ear off about you. He says your very stubborn, but very sensitive. He’s always at me not to tease you because he doesn’t want you be sad. He adores you. Gracious, you’re as bad as my boys, you need to take a shower, mister. I can’t let Lance be seeing you like this. He’d scold me for not taking care of you”
Heading to shower, the warm water hid his tears. Keith letting everything go as he cried out how much he missed his boyfriend. He missed his whole existence. The sleepy smiles as they lay cuddled up in bed together. The way he knew Keith needed his morning coffee and let him hang off him until he was caffeinated. The way he was the dorkiest and clumsiest vampire in existence. He felt like his soul had been cut in half and he didn’t know how to exist on his own after finding love with Lance. Trying to stay strong was exhausting. Nothing was going right and no one would give him his boyfriend back. He had Lance’s clothes but he feared if he handled them too much they stop smelling like him... and then he’d have nothing anymore. Keith already felt like he was forgetting what it felt like to hold him. To hear his voice.
Cried out and much cleaner, Keith climbed out the shower slowly. The warm water left him in a state ready to pass out in bed. Without a change of clothes he put on what he’d been wearing before, having to admit that he’d definitely been past due for a shower. Lance really would be kicking his arse for how he was acting. He was 27. He needed to be an adult... no matter how much everything hurt right now. Shiro would... Shiro would work this out... and Lance and Curtis would come home. Lance would tell him off for being a wreck, but Keith wouldn’t care because his boyfriend would be back and those who took him would have paid for it... slowly. Torturously slowly.
Heading back into the bedroom area, Mami had dinner all organised. She’d even had someone smuggle in two small glasses for the vodka. Drinking would change nothing. It’d only serve to make him more depressed, but one drink wouldn’t hurt, it might even take the edge off enough to finally rest
“You smell fresh as a daisy. Dig in, you need your strength”
He smelt like Mami. The soap that Lance always went to such trouble to buy because he knew she loved it. He wanted more times like that. More times of watching Lance fuss over Miriam with love in his eyes. The way Mami was looking at him... like... like she loved him, hurt
“Uh... thanks. I... know I’ve been a terrible partner to Lance... and I’ve neglected you...”
“Hush yourself. Lance is going to be found. I’ve seen enough airport security television to know he’s not getting through a cargo detector with those racing heartbeats of my grandbabies”
Keith hadn’t thought of things like that. The image of an irate Lance stuffed in a suitcase came to mind. His boyfriend would be so fucking pissed. Still, there were other avenues open if someone really wanted out of the country. Miriam seemed almost naive to think Sendak would waltz into a public airport and fly away to Zarkon’s territory. nearly half a moment later he realised that was the lie Mami was telling herself to keep going on strong. She had to believe Lance would come back, because the only other option was her son was dead... again. Keith wouldn’t believe that until he saw Lance for himself.
“Now, let’s have a good meal and a few drinks, then you’ll get yourself some much needed sleep”
Krolia had tried to be there for him... but she was better off being where she could be useful and not chained to his side. He was lashing out. Moody. Desperate for any kind of news and angry the Blades hadn’t found something despite all their work
“Thanks, Mami. I... don’t know how you can be so kind to me. It’s my fault he’s missing”
“Don’t you say that. Those people who took him are to blame. You’re not the one who abducted him. And if you are, I’m very cross at you”
“I wish I was... then we’d know where he is”
“I suspect he wouldn’t think of it as an abduction if it was you. He’d probably skip away merrily with a smile on his face”
“Probably. He’s kind of hopeless”
“He’s also lived a long time. He’ll be back home sooner rather than later. Now, eat your dinner. You can tell me everything you know while we eat. Lance often says I give good advice”
Keith resisted rolling his sore eyes at Miriam. She was so fierce and gentle... Lance would probably be the same with their twins. Fierce, gentle, and paranoid about dropping the baby... As for the whole “advice thing”, Miriam really did give good advice. He really should be going into detail, but this was Lance’s mother. She looked at things completely different to him and everyone else around them. She had a unique kind of “inside outside” view of the situation... There wasn’t much to be lost if he talked to her... he’d just have to leave out the scarier bits
“Yes, Mami”
He and Mami shouldn’t have been left unsupervised with the vodka. One more glass turned to two more. Keith’s tongue getting away from him as he spilled too much about how all of this was making him feel. With his defences down, he could have talked to Mami all night. She held his hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand like Lance would. She filled in so many parts of Lance’s life as “their little secret”. The parts of his childhood that were happy felt every bit the distant memories they were. Lance learning to drive had to be his new favourite story. His boyfriend overcompensating for his sense, driving so slow Mami smacked him until he crashed into a stop sign... then freaked out. Noticing she’d gone missing, Krolia came to find her. Eyeing the glasses on the desk, his mother raised an eyebrow, Keith feeling ashamed for actually finally relaxing and talking to someone about what he was feeling. Things were different now. He knew Krolia cared for him, but trauma didn’t disappear and he felt weak for relying on Mami when she had enough on her plate.
“Do I need to seperate you two? Or ask who was leading who astray here?”
Miriam laughed softly at Krolia, maybe his mum wasn’t as cranky as he was mentally making her out to be
“Don’t blame, Mami”
“So she’s the culprit. Leading my son astray, whatever shall I do with you?”
Mami smiled at Krolia
“You could sit and have a drink with us?”
“I only came to make sure you two hadn’t snuck out. Pidge tried to. Matt’s decided she needed rest and has sent to her to sleep”
Mami nodded, abandoning her glass in favour of placing her other hand over Keith’s
“Ah, perhaps it’s that time. Keith, you should rest too, my mijo”
He still felt self conscious... and kind of didn’t want Mami to leave. Hearing about Lance was nice. The kid that loved soccer and dancing...
“What about you?”
“When you get to my age, you can just about sleep anywhere”
That wasn’t what he meant. He kind of felt Mami shouldn’t be alone either
“Do... you want to stay?”
“I’m flattered by the offer, but can you imagine how jealous Lance would be? If I was 30 years younger I’d eat you up”
Krolia covered her mouth as she snorted at Miriam, before composing herself into “mum mode”. Keith hoped he hadn’t offended her by asking Mami to stay instead of her. He’d just... Krolia had her son and knew where he was. Mami didn’t. She was old and... He didn’t know what he’d tell Lance if anything happened to her. He hated Luis with a burning passion, but he wanted someone with Mami. He wanted someone there to take care of her and make sure she wasn’t pushing herself
“Miriam’s right. You need to sleep, we can all see it. We’ll wake you if we learn anything, and I won’t be making a move without consulting you first. It’s hard to have hope, but all we can do is trust in Lance and Curtis to do what they have to do until we can bring them home. Matt’s heading down to Garrison tomorrow to collect a few things for Rieva and pick up Blue. Maybe you could go with him? Or make a list of things that Lance would like to come back to? Oh... I’ve got this back too... I know it’s customary to keep evidence, but I felt like you should have it”
Krolia tossed something into Keith’s lap. Keith realising it was Lance’s phone. He hadn’t been allowed to keep it. Lance’s laptop was bagged as evidence when Pidge’s was retrieved from her parents... so he’d really thought he wouldn’t be allowed his boyfriend’s phone. Hitting the power button, the screen lit up. He was Lance’s background. Fast asleep with Kosmo curled up in his arms. Keith hated the photo because it was him, Lance loved it for that reason... his doggo no longer that tiny now he was 8 months old. Feeling himself growing teary. He really fucking missed Lance... Miriam squeezed his hand
“We’ll bring him home. You’ll see. Krolia, can I tempt you into a nightcap?”
Krolia groaned playfully, before nodding
“Ooooh, you’ve twisted my arm. One when we get back to your room. You’re a terrible influence on me”
Mami cackled. Maybe Krolia could be the one who stayed by mami’s side. They got on so well, and Mami would have a protector by her side
“As I’ve been told. Keith, you get a good night rest. I’ll see you tomorrow. Remind me to tell you about the first time Lance tried to make dinner on his own when he was four. I’m sure that’s a story he’d never want repeated seeing he was naked”
Mami tapped the side of her nose mischievously. Keith kind of wanted to know that story, but he kind of really wanted to find some kind of video of he and Lance to watch on repeat until he fell asleep. He knew Lance had a habit of filming things... even when they didn’t turn out right and people were left headless in the frame
“Thanks, Mami... and thanks for coming to see me”
“You’re welcome, my sweet boy. Don’t forget you can talk to me about anything”
“I know... I just... yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“That you will. Not too bright and early though, need to put my makeup on and my teeth in... You never know when you’re going to need to bite someone”
Mami sounded like Pidge, but Pidge wished she’d grow up to be as badarse
“Right, that’s enough you two. Keith, don’t stay up too late. I’ll know if you are and take that phone back”
Krolia could try. She wouldn’t get very far. He had Lance’s phone and that was the closest thing he had to his boyfriend right now. He wasn’t going to invade Lance’s privacy. He trusted his boyfriend and his emails and messages were his private business. His photos though... those were fair game.
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Goodnight, Aaron (Aaron Hotchner x OC) Chapter 4
Summary: With Hotch’s blessing, Sebastian begins to assimilate into the Hotchner household. 
Tagging: @sunlight-moonrise, @clean-bands-dirty-stories, @genevievedarcygranger, and @davidrossi-ismydad
Chapter 3 // Masterlist // AO3 Link // Chapter 5
Dropping Jack off at school proved to be the easiest thing in Sebastian’s day, despite not waking up past ten o’clock for the past few weeks.
Packing his possessions only took two hours in comparison to the literal hellscape that was the cleaning up. His tiny bedsit hid plenty of nooks and crannies that hoarded dust and grime. On his hands and knees, Sebastian scrubbed away with anti-bac spray and wipes in hopes that he would get his deposit back.
He really fucking hated cleaning. It always took him way too long. Probably because he got putting on a video for background noise – it had to be something he found interesting to help pass the time but not so interesting that he would be pulled into watching it. A fine wire to walk and Sebastian had terrible balance to match his attitude. There was also the fact that he would often put off cleaning with the excuse of doing it all in one big go.
Past Sebastian was a bitch and Present Sebastian was suffering because of it
After a quick lunch of his leftovers, he lay back on the floor and dialled for his best friend. She picked up after three rings and he whined loudly to her.
“Bellamy, help me. I’m drowning in used wipes in my shitty shitty bedsit.”
“Hmm, delicious,” and Bellamy hung up.
Sebastian didn’t bother ringing up to see if she’d appear in the room. He decided that he would find out if she was on her way or not in the next hour.
Turns out it only took twenty minutes for Bellamy to push the front door open with the tip of her wedges.
“Why’d you call me to help you clean? Sexist pig,” and she swung her leg over his head.
Sebastian didn’t bother trying to dodge, letting the air shoot past his ear, a few stray hairs fluttering in Bellamy’s wake, “Because Klaus would make more mess, and I love your scintillating company – did you bring anything?”
“I got me coffee and you Haribo’s.”
Just another reminder as to how all that kerfuffle with his work visa was worth it.
He clasped his hands together as if in prayer, “I adore you; I owe you my life.”
With a grin, Bellamy tossed the packet his way, “Give me a cloth and tell me about your new boss then.”
Another thing Bellamy brought was the tunes. She was mumbling lyrics as she scrubbed away at the skirting board, Sebastian harmonising in terrible ways. The tasks didn’t get completed much quicker, but it was much more entertaining for Sebastian. Who knew what Bellamy was up to before this, she didn’t tell him.
Bellamy tossed a bag into the garbage can and peered in despite the smell, “Somehow still better than my flat.”
“When are you moving out by the way?”
“Who knows, maybe I’ll move into your bedsit.”
“Don’t, landlord’s a prick.” And Sebastian looked over his shoulder, a belated measure
“Still better than mine.”
Bellamy stayed right up until all the belongings were crushed into Sebastian’s car and the door was locked by them for the final time. It was a very unemotional time when Sebastian tossed the keys through the letterbox, and they left down the murky stairwell together.
To say Jack enjoyed the sight of all Sebastian’s bags pilled together in the backseats was an understatement. The drive back, he was more elated by the tracks leaking from Sebastian’s stereo. His chatter on the drive back about the games in the playground filled the time, and Sebastian was drawn into the world of spies Jack had created.
The energy dipped when Jack and Sebastian had to carry all of Sebastian’s belongings inside. The lift worked, thank God, but Sebastian was still weighed down with his bags for life. Plus Jack could only carry so much. He was only somewhat eager to drag Sebastian’s wheelie suitcase down the corridors. And even less so was Jack to get on with his homework once the car was clear of baggage.
Sebastian sneaked a sly glance at Hotch’s list of Jack’s preferred snacks before he made up some apple slices with peanut butter. Gotta trick the kids into eating their five-a-day.
Somehow, after that snack break, Jack transformed his mood into “very understanding” about doing his science work - especially for an eleven-year-old. He listened to Sebastian’s reason, one he wished he’d thought about and listened to when he was Jack’s age, was heard.
The Lego break was greatly appreciated too. Especially since it was coupled with the front door opening at quarter to seven to reveal Hotch.
“Hi, Daddy!” Jack trotted over and hugged his middle.
“You’re home early,” Sebastian cheered from the kitchen counter.
“On time for once,” Hotch set his stuff on the side, and his gun into the drawer swiftly after. “Don’t expect it to happen often.” Then, as Jack went back to the dinner table, Hotch knelt down and removed a second gun from an ankle holster. Sebastian didn’t comment. He must have just missed that last time.
“What you doing, buddy?” Hotch joined Jack at the table, subbing in where Sebastian left off. He brought his own pile of paperwork with him. But it stayed in his briefcase.
“Math.”
“Let’s have a look.”
Sebastian’s cooking playlist continued with its lyricless songs. But it was turned it way down and Sebastian felt more self-consciousness about each song still coming up. Towards the final seconds, he would hover over the skip button before deciding that it wouldn’t be so bad if it continued.
One of Sebastian’s favourite songs came on, but he had very little time to enjoy it.
When Jack heard that it was playing, he bounced on his little butt with excitement, “Sebastian wants to get married to this song!”
Looking between Jack and Hotch, who was looking expectantly for an answer with a little grin, Sebastian noticed his jaw was slack and promptly shut it.
“I would like to have my first dance to this song,” He explained, a little slower than Jack who continued:
“We listened to it in the car! But he doesn’t like a bit in the middle so he’s going to change it.”
Sebastian bit his cheek and got back to stirring the cabbage around in the saucepan in a triangle.
“Is this it?” Hotch tapped his pen against the homework, “The part you don’t like?”
“Not yet,” Sebastian replied, “There’s a change from three to four beats per bar in a sec first.”
And, as if he wanted to make things even worse for himself, Sebastian began to wave out the time signature with the fork he’d been using in the saucepan. Hotch and Jack watched the movement the movement change from a triangle to a lightning bolt as the song shifted into its denouement.
“So maybe I’d have to get it edited,” Sebastian finished, his voice fading out the more he spoke.
He didn’t point it out when they reached the moment of upbeat, just before the closing bars that didn’t fit with the traditional wedding idea. Who knows? Maybe he’d be unconventional if he got married, jam out with his significant other on the dance floor.
But he wasn’t about to discuss that with Hotch - or continue it with Jack for that matter. And he didn’t look up from his cooking until it was done and ready to be served.
Hotch ate with them, sat beside Jack while Sebastian was opposite. Jack gave an enthused rehashing of this spy game’s narrative beats. His fork was his baton as he orchestrated a rich tapestry of how he and his friends crept about the playground together. Interjecting appropriately, Hotch offered him tips of the trade, like some hand signals to use while sneaking underneath the windows of the classroom.
“Did you move in alright?” He suddenly addressed Sebastian.
Prayed none of his food was stuck in his teeth, Sebastian replied, “Yeah thanks, I’ll probably be unpacking for some of tomorrow though.”
Jack helped Sebastian load the dishwasher after dinner while Hotch disappeared into his office. It didn’t go unmissed, the way Jack’s behaviour slumped as soon as his father turned to walk away from him.
However, when Hotch reappeared sans suit jacket and tie, Sebastian bit back his laughter. Not because he thought the sight was funny, but he was just so pleased for Jack as the two began setting up a film. It was such a beautiful event to watch unfold from the kitchen table, where Sebastian was flying his Minecraft avatar about the server in search of something to do. He wanted to ring his mum, but by the power of time-zones, he was rendered incapable. So instead he punched a tree until it fell.
“Sebastian! Are you going to watch with us?” Jack said, his neck craning as far as he could go to look at his nanny while he pulled the puppy eyes on him.
“Um,” Sebastian threw a glance at the horrendous clock tower besides Bellamy’s mansion, “I’m gonna work for a bit, sorry Jack.”
The puppy dog eyes grew wider – how that was possible, Sebastian didn’t know – but Jack accepted the answer with relative grace and settled with Hotch on the couch, his legs buried beneath a blanket.
Sebastian decided to start building, something productive. But the further he got into his project, the further he wanted to jump into the ocean because of how ugly everything he made turned out to be. The booming opening titles of a Star Wars film brought him back to the apartment, where Hotch was retrieving something from the fridge, barely giving Sebastian just enough time to switch tabs to his email before he walked behind him.
But then he stopped beside him and spoke under his breath, “You live here too now. You don’t have to worry about bothering us.”
“Ah, I don’t wanna encroach on your time with Jack. And I was just gonna go to the shops. You want owt?” It all came tumbling out of Sebastian’s mouth pretty quick.
“‘Out’?” Hotch repeated.
“Owt, anything, it’s slang for anything.”
“Oh, no thank you. We’re all set,” and he held up the chocolate bar in his hand with a little smile. Sebastian’s stomach tensed but he returned the smile and closed his laptop lid, off to his room to get his rucksack.
Hotch’s arm rested around Jack on the back of sofa. They took turns breaking a square off the chocolate bar, Jack occasionally going for another between
“It makes sense that ‘owt’ is ‘anything’, if ‘nowt’ is ‘nothing’,” Hotch remarked, his head falling back on the couch to look at Sebastian. He shot him back a single finger gun.
“Now you’re getting it.”
“You don’t have to keep your shoes by the door either.”
“Oh, your poor carpets,” Sebastian let out a laugh at his oh-so-very-lame comment, making eye contact with the dress shoes that rested beside Hotch’s feet in pewter grey socks on the floor.
The shop was only a ten-minute walk away and he knew what he wanted. Sebastian still looped around the aisles as if he did not know where his next minute would be spent on this mortal coil. Eventually he settled on a slice of banoffee pie from the bakery. He answered the phone at the till, not so subtly bringing up the subject of their Minecraft time to Bellamy on the other end:
“Have you been on the server yet?”
“No, I’m marking some homework. Why? You wanna hop on tonight?”
“Ah, I’m gonna wait until Jack is off to bed first.”
“I’ll keep you posted on how the little buggers do with their homework.” And there was a clink of a glass in the background, “But I’m telling you, if I read one more ‘Curly’s wife’s nails are red because red means danger’.”
“Make it a drinking game! Don’t, don’t do that.”
Sebastian just missed the rain on his walk back. Thankfully so because his hoodie wouldn’t provide much protection for himself or for his pie. Upon re-entering the apartment, he was greeted by Jack and Jack alone.
“You alright, bud? Where’s ya Dad?”
“He had to get the phone.”
Speak of the devil, Hotch returned to the sitting room with his tie neat in place and suit jacket returned on his back. As he collected his belongings from his safe, he caught sight of Sebastian, “I gotta go to the office, shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”
He kissed the top of Jack’s head and nodded goodbye at Sebastian before leaving. It was then Sebastian saw that the movie was paused and Jack was eating the last square of chocolate.
“Do you want to finish the film, or wait until your dad comes back?”
“Finish it, please,” Jack drooled a little and Sebastian grabbed a tissue to mop it up.
He poked away at the pie before eating it. The pair watched in quietude before Sebastian remembered the last of his snacks at the bottom of his bag.
“You want a Haribo?”
They went through the usual routine: the Millennium Falcon speeding away with the gang barely intact before the credits rolled, teeth brushing, Sebastian reading Where The Wild Things Are until Jack was dozing off and not fighting his nanny easing him lower into his pillows.
The ugly-as-hell clock tower was demolished in favour of making a little paddock for the cows. Bellamy joined the server and insisted on an extension to their little home.
When he realised how dark his room had gotten, Sebastian checked the time.
11:03.
He closed the lid of his laptop. Then he lay down on his bed with his eyes open and listened. Just his breathing and the beating of his heart were heard, slow and steady for Lord knows how long.
Then the front door creaked.
Footsteps padded across the floor, and the hall light snapped on. A shadow beneath the door passed by. He heard Hotch go into Jack’s room. Then the light went out again and a bedroom door closed.
Sebastian turned over and closed his eyes, now that he was ready to sleep.
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higuchimon · 4 years
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[fanfic] Uninvited Guests
From the outside nothing really looked that different. But in the royal kitchens and along the corridors and in the areas where the servants gathered to whisper among themselves, the word went out. Haou-sama had chosen the last of his closest advisors – the ones known as the Death Duelists. While there would not be a true celebration, not the sort of thing that most of those who lived and worked in his castle had only heard vague stories about, it was subtly decided that a slightly finer feast than usual should be held to welcome Guardian Baou as the last of the chosen ones.
No one knew the criteria that Haou-sama used to choose those particular ones. It could be presumed that the drive for cruelty, ambition, and a carelessness for the lives of others were high on the list of desirable qualities. Guardian Baou, Skull Bishop, Chaos Sorcerer, Skilled Black Magician, and Skilled White Magician all held those qualities in the highest of amounts.
There were a few others that also held them and they were considered not quite as high in the ranks but very close. Snoww the Magician of Dark World stood among them – she who had been the first of the survivors of Dark World to kneel to the one who defeated Brron. Snoww also knew all of the gossip of the castle and passed it on to Haou-sama, should she deem it worthy of his attention.
Which she seldom did. She knew what he desired to know most of all and that could not be found out from kitchen gossip. But it remained interesting or her to know regardless. Knowledge was power, and power of any kind could be of great use.
If Haou noticed anything about the splendor of this night’s dinner, it did not reflect in his cold golden eye or the unamused tilt of his lips. He simply sat at the head of the table, waiting and watching as the servants brought the food around. Seated beneath him were his Death Duelists, all of them quietly chatting among themselves, Guardian Baou being instructed by Chaos Sorcerer on how matters were conducted here.
Snoww sipped a cup of well-aged wine, nibbling at tiny pieces of well-braised meat. She approved of this; it proved that the local farmers and herders accepted Haou-sama as their liege, as they sent the proper tithes to the castle. Haou-sama’s reign remained well-begun.
Course by course elegantly prepared food graced the table. Only those of a certain rank were allowed there – the Death Duelists, Snoww herself, two of her assistants, and a small handful of others who strove daily to prove their worth. Most of those were demons or dark spellcasters of some kind or another. One of them was an angel – she wasn’t certain of his name, but the expression on his face and the tilt of his wings told her that he was as cold and cruel as any of the fiends.
Her intentions were to ghost among the attendants after dinner, learn who the ones she didn’t know were, and pass any interesting information on to Haou-sama. For several reasons, her plans didn’t work out the way she expected.
Servants brought out the final course – a delicious dessert made of fruit and nuts. According to protocol, Haou-sama was the last served, and his portion was also the largest. As the highest in rank there, he deserved nothing less.
He’d said nothing throughout dinner but that wasn’t a surprise. He normally only spoke when he chose to give an order. Those who served him learned what he wanted from the gaze of his eyes and the flicker of expressions across his impassive face. It really wasn’t that hard, since all that he truly seemed to want was for everyone who didn’t directly serve him to die.
Snoww did wonder about that. But it wasn’t her place to question.
As Haou-sama prepared to take a bite of his dessert, there was a sensation of movement from one of the shadows near the table. It wasn’t something anyone there expected, not even Haou-sama. He stared at the creature that darted out of the darkness, some of the first surprise that she’d ever seen on his face.
“Demon Beaver,” Guardian Baou said, breaking the startled silence. “I haven’t seen one of those in years. What’s it doing here?”
He stood up and reached for the creature where it sat on the table, tiny bat wings flared, and horn pointing defensively at whoever drew nearer. Its tail stretched out over the plates, a tiny fork at the end, and before Baou could get a grip on it, Demon Beaver leaped forward to where Haou-sama’s dessert lay on his plate, and jerked it up into his mouth.
By all rights, it shouldn’t have been able to take the whole dessert in. The nuts were large and so were several portions of the fruit. But all of it vanished down the creature’s throat. For a few seconds its stomach bloated, then it was all gone.
It chirped a noise unlike any Snoww had ever heard before, then leaped back into the darkness that had spawned it. The whole event had taken less than a minute. Baou stopped in his tracks, staring at where it had been.
Haou rose up, eyes colder than usual. “What was that?” He spoke, biting off each word with more relish than he had the meal he’d just had.
“Demon Beaver,” Guardian Baou repeated himself. “Like I said, I haven’t seen one around here before. There was a little colony of them near where I grew up.” He eyed Haou, then the other Death Duelists, and picked up his own untouched dessert. “Here, Haou-sama. You’re welcome to mine.”
He started to hand it over, freezing when Haou gave him a disdainful look. Their liege lord rose up to his feet and stalked out of the room, last words floating behind him.
“If the creature turns up again, I want it destroyed. Bring me its hide, horn, and wings to prove what you’ve done and I will reward you.”
One eyebrow of Snoww’s flicked upward at that. Had he really wanted the dessert that much or was he simply displeased by the fact such a tiny creature interrupted their dinner? Even for her, it could be difficult to determine the truth behind his words.
“What an interesting ending to the meal,” an unfamiliar voice spoke from behind her. She turned, hand tightening on her staff, to look into the face of that angel she’d seen earlier. She nodded a silent greeting.
“So it was. Will you seek the creature’s life?” Snoww wondered. The other shrugged, the motion liquid and beautiful.
“Perhaps. It’s difficult to determine when I don’t know what the reward is. What would Haou-sama grant to someone who isn’t one of his precious Death Duelists?” The angel’s lips quirked into a smile that wasn’t sweet at all but perhaps wished to pretend to be.
Snoww allowed herself a little bit of a smile, a trifle warmer than the other’s. “You could ask him if it means that much to you.” She tilted her head to one side, eyes raking him up and down. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of an introduction.”
“Why, so we haven’t.” He bent forward, wings spreading wide. “I am Fallen Angel Lucifer. And you are, I believe, Snoww, Magician of Dark World.”
Snoww nodded in return. “I’ve heard of the Fallen Angels. Your people live far from here, don’t they?”
“Very far. I came to this area to conduct negotiations with Brron before his demise.” Lucifer’s wings pulled back as he straightened up. “Seeing what Haou-sama has done makes me far more interested in allying with him, though.”
Snoww’s lips thinned in amusement. “Is that so?”
“It is indeed. Do you think that he would be interested in an alliance? We have several resource that he may wish to make use of.” Lucifer raised his arm and tapped on the duel disk there. “I am not the least of duelists in my family. We could provide many warriors to serve his cause.”
“Perhaps.” Snoww shrugged casually. “That is for Haou-sama to decide. But perhaps if you capture that Demon Beaver and bring it to Haou-sama, dead or alive, he might look favorably upon your offer. Though in truth, I can’t actually say for sure. He makes his own decisions.”
Lucifer nodded, a thoughtful tilt to his lips and the ends of his wings flicking casually. “It is an avenue worth pursuing, I’m certain.” His gaze shifted back to the Death Duelists, who stood in a small circle talking among themselves, and some of the servants who looked terrified as they whispered together.
Snoww wasn’t surprised by that. Many of them had followed Haou-sama from Brron’s castle and they were quite used to his temper and rages. If Demon Beaver had stolen from Brron, then everyone who’d even looked at the food would have been executed in the most horrible ways possible. Haou-sama’s orders were almost benign in comparison.
It made her wonder what he would do if someone brought the creature to him alive. Somehow, she doubted it would be made a tame pet of.
Lucifer retired to his chambers and settled down there quietly, reading over a book he’d brought with him. He said nothing, did nothing but quietly turn the pages of his book, until a quiet trill wafted through the air. He still didn’t look up.
“Well?” He said only the single word. Again the trill sounded and now his eyes narrowed. “I’m certain it was delicious. But that’s not what I want to know. You shouldn’t have even showed yourself.”
If he’d raised his head and turned it, he would have seen Demon Beaver in one corner of the chamber, right where the shadows hung the thickest. His room wasn’t very large; he could have reached out and touched the creature if he chose. But he didn’t; Demon Beaver could move faster than he could and would be away in the darkness before he could so much as touch the creature’s horn.
“Have you found out anything else? Anything useful?” Lucifer wanted to know. The edges of his wings twitched and wiggled. He wasn’t very good at missions like this; he didn’t have the temperament or the patience for it. He’d meant to fly in here and raze it all to the ground. Brron had insulted the Fallen Angels one time too many and now it was his task to avenge the slight.
Only before he could do that, some – some human from another world appeared and did Brron in. Technically Lucifer could have just returned home and called the matter even. But the existence of Haou intrigued him. He wanted to know where this strange human came from and how he gained all of his power.
Demon Beaver would help with that. The creature could smell power as easily as it could smell a delicious treat, and so far it had managed to inform him that Haou-sama did have a power that was – well, it didn’t know what the power was, only that it was more than human and other than that of a spirit.
Lucifer drummed his fingers on the table before him, thinking. “Stay out of sight. If you get found, you’re going to get skinned, de-horned, and your wings ripped off, and that makes you useless to me.”
Another trill and a noise that made Lucifer snort. “I don’t care if you wouldn’t like it either. I hired you to find information for me, not become someone’s wall decoration. Get back there and find out something.” This time he turned towards Demon Beaver, eyes flashing with rage. “Or I’ll turn you into a wall decoration myself.”
Demon Beaver chittered at him, then faded away into the shadows, tail twitching out of sight the last. Lucifer kept the words that he wanted to say behind his teeth. It would be far better if he did nothing that could bring Haou’s attention to himself.
The idea of killing Haou certainly appealed to him. It would mean that his realm would extend to this area. The Fallen Angels and the monsters of Dark World warred against each other for longer than even he could remember. By some standards, since Brron died and they lived, then the Fallen Angels had won the feud. And yet there were still those of Dark World who lived.
It didn’t seem that Snoww realized exactly who he was. Perhaps she’d not heard of the feud – which truly seemed impossible to him. He’d spent his entire life knowing of it and knowing that Brron’s people would kill him if they could. It was his duty to kill them first.
Perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps this would give him the chance to kill Haou, or the remaining survivors of Dark World, or both. Then all of this land would belong to him and to his people.
Lucifer thought that would be a very pleasant way to end this feud – and the very best way.
Guardian Baou grew up on the borderlands between the realm of the Dark World monsters and the Fallen Angels. He’d spent plenty of time in his youth guarding their village, watching for the slightest sign of attack. Frequently when the attack came, he gave the word, and from the time he could run about unaided, he assisted the defenders of the village. When he grew old enough to fight himself, he joined them.
Before then, he wandered the thick woods and mountains that filled the borders. He saw many animals, monsters, and spirits there, among them Demon Beavers and Evil Rats. All of them had the trick of jumping into the darkness to get away from someone trying to trap them.
He made several traps in that long-ago time to try and get hold of one, just to be able to turn the hide into something useful. Trapping was one of the professions that the locals excelled in. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something that he in particular excelled at.
It was one of the reasons he gave up on trying and focused on learning how to fight. He almost wished he’d chosen differently, one day when he returned from his lessons to find that the creatures had chewed holes in their palisade, and an army in service to the Fallen Angels swept in, laying waste to all in there.
Ever since then, he hated all of those tiny creatures and gone out of his way to destroy them wherever they cropped up. Now, at least decades after he’d last seen one of those, he knew that he still carried those glowing coals of hatred.
How did one even get here? They shouldn’t be here. That bothered him. Haou-sama’s castle sat near volcanic mountains, nowhere near the lush and fertile area that he’d grown up in. Normally Demon Beaver and the like lived in places with a great deal of trees and foliage to gnaw through.
Someone had to have brought it there, he decided. Exactly who he couldn’t – no. Wait. He did know. He’d seen the culprit at dinner for several days now.
Fallen Angel Lucifer. He’d never seen the angel even from a distance before. But he knew the name. It hadn’t meant anything to him before; he’d not thought much about the Fallen Angels since leaving the ruins of his homeland, seeking a strong master to offer his duel disk and his weapons to. He knew that there had been a feud between those of Dark World and the Fallen Angels but it hadn’t seemed to matter that much.
Now what did this creature want with Haou-sama? Guardian Baou refused to allow something to happen to his master.
Not that he thought anyone like Lucifer could actually hurt Haou-sama. But his liege didn’t need to waste his time on such a lowly adversary.
He considered carefully his course of action, then headed down to the kitchen to give some orders.
Three waxing and waning of the comet’s light – three days and three nights, by the metrics of some worlds. Demon Beaver popped up at any meal that had something sweet, gobbling it all, giving a quick look around, and then vanishing. Haou-sama hadn’t said anything more about the matter than he had the first night. A reward for the one who brought him proof of Demon Beaver’s demise and nothing more.
On the fourth dinner after that first encounter, the same dessert from that original encounter was brought out. Haou didn’t react – though those close to him might have caught a glimpse of thinning lips and a flicker of tension. Almost any who did would have merely written it off as expecting the annoying creature to come back.
Just as Haou-sama reached for a slice of fruit, Demon Beaver tumbled out of the thick shadows, and squealed at the sight of the dessert, an even greater serving than the one before. It darted swiftly forward, tiny hands reaching for the largest nut available.
In the heartbeat before it touched, Haou’s armored hand landed on Demon Beaver’s horn, driving it forward into the stone table, while his other hand pinched the bat-like wings together even as they attempted to beat to get away. Nothing the creature did could get it away from that relentless grip as Haou hefted it off of the table, wrenching the horn out as he did.
He raised it up to stare at it. “Whose servant are you?” His voice hadn't changed. Cold and crisp and without a shred of true emotion, the voice of a king.
Tiny squeaks were emitted from the creature. Haou-sama’s eyes narrowed before he turned to glance at a patch of empty air – that wasn’t empty a moment later. A fluffy Hane Kuriboh fluttered there, squeaking at Demon Beaver, who squeaked back. Then Hane Kuriboh turned to Haou-sama and said something that no one else could understand.
Slowly Haou-sama turned his head, golden gaze scraping across those seated below the Death Duelists. “Fallen Angel Lucifer.”
The angel stiffened, hands tightening into fists. “Yes, Haou-sama?” He kept his voice as cool as possible.
Guardian Baou grinned wickedly. “I knew it was you. Who else would send one of those things around to bother people?”
Haou-sama gestured him to silence as he rose to his feet. “It seems there is a feud between your lands and those of Brron, which I now rule.”
“That was my original intent,” Lucifer said, his wings sweeping back and forth. “But not at the moment. I only wished to – learn about you.”
Guardian Baou didn’t wait for an order. Nor did the other Death Duelists. The five of them encircled Lucifer, Chaos Sorcerer with his sword out, the others wielding their own weapons or magical energies. But Haou shook his head.
“And what have you learned?” He didn’t sound even remotely amused. But he never did.
“That you are a mighty warrior and king and it is in the best interests of the Fallen Angels to call an end to the old feud and ” Lucifer hesitated over his words only for a few seconds. “Request an alliance with you, great lord.”
Haou regarded him with those unsettling golden eyes. “And your purpose in letting this creature roam here?”
“I only wanted to learn and Demon Beaver has served my family for ages. I gave it no orders to steal anything of yours.” Lucifer promised, wings wiggling even more. “In fact, if you choose to skin the beast, I have no objections at all.”
Again Haou’s eyebrows quirked the faintest bit. Then he tossed it back to Lucifer. “You are a duelist?”
“Yes, Haou-sama,” Lucifer nodded, catching the little creature and setting it on the table. Demon Beaver grumbled and wriggled, and Lucifer rested a hand on its head. It wasn't quite calming, but it at least quieted down.
“Then you will duel someone of my choosing. If you win, then your Fallen Angels will become my servants. If you lose – I will destroy your entire realm and add it to my own.”
Lucifer’s hands tightened on Demon Beaver. “And if I choose not to duel?”
The smile held not a scrap of joy to it. “Then I will destroy your realm and add it to my own – and you will aid me in doing so.”
At once Lucifer shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do which would make me do that.”
Snoww laughed at his denial. “You’re unaware of the depths of Haou-sama’s power, I see. If he chooses to shatter your will and make you his slave, then so will you be. You have the chance to bend your knee to him freely – I would suggest that you take it.”
Lucifer’s eyes darted all around, briefly landing on Guardian Baou, who smirked back at him wickedly. “Then I will duel Guardian Baou.”
“I said that you’ll duel someone of my choosing.” Haou nodded towards the guards, who moved forward to seize Lucifer by the arms and wings. “Take him to his quarters. Ensure that no one approaches him until I command otherwise.”
Lucifer wriggled and struggled, but the guards that Haou-sama chose were too strong, supported by his magic, and they carried him away, Demon Beaver with him. Guardian Baou turned to his master as the great door closed behind them.
“Haou-sama,” Guardian Baou dropped down to one knee. “Please, I beg of you – allow me to defeat that foul upstart. He cannot be trusted – none of those Fallen Angels can be. Please, let me wipe their name from the world.”
“No.” Haou replied without hesitation. “You need not worry about him. I have someone else in mind already.
Guardian Baou looked as if he were about to protest. The words died on his lips the moment that Haou stared down at him. He dropped his head in submission.
“As you wish, Haou-sama. May I ask who your champion will be?”
“No.” And with that, Haou stalked out of the room, with a casual flick of his cape.
Dinner had been absolutely forgotten in the wake of events. Now everyone scattered, thinning out into tiny clumps of people who gabbled back and forth with one another, trying to figure out who would fight for Haou-sama’s honor. Perhaps it would be Haou-sama himself? Would he give the Fallen Angel that much honor? Or perhaps it would be a prisoner. There were a few who hadn’t yet met their end still held in the dungeon.
A few whispered of some of the rebels who gathered together in hidden corners of the land. No one wanted to speak of them to Haou, but rumors ran rampant of an odd pair, one in black, the other in white. Rumors bounded but no one knew their names or even if they existed. Only whispered accounts from distant viewings had even a hint of their reality.
Guardian Baou tried not to pout very much. He wanted above all else to slay the Fallen Angel, to end the memories that had lasted all this time. But if Haou-sama chose to give this honor to someone else, then so be it.
“Perhaps it will be my sister,” Chaos Sorcerer mused. “Chaos Hunter is an extremely skilled duelist and warrior. I would be pleased to see her fight for Haou’s cause.”
Skilled Black Magician shrugged. “We have a cousin who could also do well – Skilled Blue Magician. But I can’t say if he’s even in the area. He’s been traveling a long time.”
No one could come to any kind of decision and they finally dispersed altogether, returning to whatever work or pleasures that this most unusual dinner hour interrupted.
Guardian Baou. Lucifer’s lip curled at the thought of that fool. He vaguely recalled that there had been a village on the border many years earlier that he’d hired Evil Rats and Demon Beavers to gnaw into so the mercenary army he’d collected could clean it out. Apparently there had been a survivor. That hadn’t meant much to him then. All it meant now was that it had interrupted his delicate scheming.
He would have to duel. He didn’t know yet who his opponent would be, but it didn’t matter. Whoever it was, he would quickly end them. He wasn’t interested in submitting to Haou but if it kept him and his people alive long enough to find a way to dispose of Haou, then it would be worth it.
Besides, he rather liked the idea of killing someone. It had been far too long since he’d done that. He didn’t want to lose the knack.
Lucifer remained imprisoned in his room for three more turns of the comet. Demon Beaver stayed with him, whether the creature wished to or not. Whenever it tried to get through the shadows, it simply reappeared elsewhere in the room. Clearly the work of Haou’s spellcasters.
At last the guards returned and this time they didn’t bring food. This time he was escorted out to where Haou and his Death Duelists awaited. Haou spoke as soon as he entered the arena.
“I have chosen your opponent.” With a flick of his hand, another person was escorted into the arena. Lucifer stared at who it was, his throat drying in fear.
“Desire?” He murmured, seeing his younger brother there. Desire stared back at him.
“Lucifer. I thought-” Desire whipped around to stare up at Haou, shaking his head. “You told me that I was fighting for my people!’
“And so you are.” Haou said with that endless calm. “Fallen Angel Lucifer, if you win this duel, then your people serve me and your realm becomes a part of mine. If you lose this duel, then I will destroy your people and leave nothing but memories.” He turned his attention to Desire. “Fallen Angel Desire. “The same holds true for you – victory brings servitude and survival. Loss means death for all of yours.”
Both started to shake their heads. Snoww politely cleared her throat from where she stood. “Do remember – if you fail to battle as Haou-sama wishes, then your lands and people are also forfeit – as is your free will. If you value that, then battle as warriors unafraid.”
Desire and Lucifer turned back to one another. Lucifer squared up his shoulders and flipped his wings out, preparing for what might be the final battle of his entire life. Desire followed suit.
“If that’s the way that it is, then I will miss you, my brother.”
Desire held out his arm and his duel disk appeared on it. “I Fear those are the words that I should speak to you, brother. Have you any words for me to give to Asmodeus when I return home?”
“To do what is proper,” Lucifer advised him. Desire nodded, clearly not happy about the order, but he would obey. Asmodeus was Lucifer’s heir, as he had no children of his own yet. If he did end up falling, Asmodeus would be the one to assume his throne.
And he would be the one to seek vengeance against the one who forced Desire to slay his own kin. Haou-sama might be a powerful human, but he was nothing more than human. His power could not stand to that of the Fallen Angels, and he would learn that in the most painful of ways.
He did so hope that he would be there to see that happen. Perhaps he would even be there to teach the lesson himself.
He raised up his duel disk. All of the Fallen Angels sparred most carefully against one another and watched as they dueled others. He knew Desire’s moves as Desire knew his. It was possible to tell who might win this battle. Perhaps in the end, it didn’t matter. The true enemy would be Haou – and someday, there would be revenge. Until then, if nothing else, it would be the grandest fight of his life.
The same word fell from his lips and Desire’s in the same moment.
“Duel!”
The End
Notes: Picking just one thing for this prompt wasn't easy. There's just so much I would love to see more of! But I decided on this: more of Juudai's time ruling Dark World. As well as Dark World politics and how various factions interact.
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scifigeneration · 5 years
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Your big brain makes you human – count your neurons when you count your blessings
by Suzana Herculano-Houzel
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It’s these brain cells that really make humans unique. anyaivanova/Shutterstock.com
Here’s something new to consider being thankful for at the dinner table: the long evolutionary journey that gave you your big brain and your long life.
Courtesy of our primate ancestors that invented cooking over a million years ago, you are a member of the one species able to afford so many cortical neurons in its brain. With them come the extended childhood and the pushing century-long lifespan that together make human beings unique.
All these bequests of your bigger brain cortex mean you can gather four generations around a meal to exchange banter and gossip, turn information into knowledge and even practice the art of what-not-to-say-when.
You may even want to be thankful for another achievement of our neuron-crammed human cortices: all the technology that allows people spread over the globe to come together in person, on screens, or through words whispered directly into your ears long distance.
I know I am thankful. But then, I’m the one proposing that we humans revise the way we tell the story of how our species came to be.
Brains made of cells, but how many?
Back when I had just received my freshly minted Ph.D. in neuroscience and started working in science communication, I found out that 6 in 10 college-educated people believed they only used 10% of their brains. I’m glad to say that they’re wrong: We use all of it, just in different ways at different times.
The myth seemed to be supported by statements in serious textbooks and scientific articles that “the human brain is made of 100 billion neurons and 10 times as many supporting glial cells.” I wondered if those numbers were facts or guesses. Did anyone actually know that those were the numbers of cells in the human brain?
No, they didn’t.
Neuroscientists did have a rough idea. Some estimates suggested 10 to 20 billion neurons for the human cerebral cortex, others some 60 to 80 billion in another region called the cerebellum. With the rest of the brain known to be fairly sparse in comparison, the number of neurons in the whole human brain was definitely closer to 100 billion than to just 10 billion (far too little) or 1 trillion (way too many).
But there we were, neuroscientists armed with fancy tools to modify genes and light up parts of the brain, still in the dark about what different brains were made of and how the human brain compared to others.
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Slicing up different animals’ brains – like this one from an elephant – is the first step. Suzana Herculano-Houzel, CC BY-ND
Counting up neurons in brain soup
So I devised a way to easily and rapidly count how many cells a brain is made of. I spent 15 years collecting brains and then turning them into soup that I examined under the microscope. That’s how I got the hard numbers.
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An elephant brain is bigger than a human one, but its number of cortical neurons is smaller. Drawings by Lorena Kaz, CC BY-ND
As it turned out, there are many ways to put brains together: Primates like us have more neurons in the cerebral cortex than most other mammals, no matter the size of the brain. A brain can be large but made of relatively few neurons if those neurons are huge, like in an elephant; primate neurons are small, and bird neurons are even tinier, so even the smallest bird brains can hide lots of neurons. But never as many as the largest primate brain: ours.
When comparing brains, we care about numbers of neurons in the cortex because it’s the area of the brain that lets us go beyond the simple detection and response to stimuli, allowing us to learn from the past and make plans for the future.
Because neurons are the Lego pieces that build brains and process information, the more cortical neurons a species has, the more flexible and complex that species’ cognition can be, regardless of size. And not just that: I recently found that the more cortical neurons, the longer the species takes to develop into adulthood, just like it takes longer to assemble a truckload of Legos into a mansion than a handful into a little house. And for as yet unknown reasons, along with more cortical neurons comes a longer life.
Getting more cortical neurons thus seems to be a two-for-one bargain: Buy more mental capabilities, and along comes more lifetime to learn to use them.
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No more rough estimates. The average male human brain contains 86 billion neurons and 85 billion non-neuronal cells. Suzana Herculano-Houzel, CC BY-ND
Powering all those neurons
Lots more neurons cost lots more energy, though.
If people had kept exclusively eating raw foods, like all other primates do, they would need to spend over nine hours every single day searching, collecting, picking and eating to feed their 16 billion cortical neurons. Forget about discovering electricity or building airplanes. There would be no time for looking at the stars and wondering about what could be. Our great ape cousins, ever the raw foodies, still have at most half as many cortical neurons as we do – and they eat over eight hours per day.
But our ancestors figured out how to cheat nature to get more from less, first with stone tools and later with fire. They invented cooking and changed human history. Eating is faster and much more efficient, not to say delicious, when food is pre-processed and transformed with fire.
With plenty of calories available in much less time, new generations gained bigger and bigger brains. And the more cortical neurons they had, the longer kids remained kids, the longer their parents lived, and the more the former could learn from the latter, then from grandparents, and even great-grandparents. Cultures soon flourished. Technology bloomed and lived on through schooling and science, becoming ever more complex.
With so much culture to share, what makes us modern humans has become about much more than our human biology. Being born with lots of neurons gives us the potential for a long and slow life, one where each of our brains gets a chance to be educated by what the generations before us have learned, and to educate the next ones. We will remain modern humans so long as we are willing to convene around dinner tables to celebrate our differences and to share our hard-earned knowledge, stories of success and failure, our hopes and dreams.
About The Author:
Suzana Herculano-Houzel is the author of: The Human Advantage: How Our Brains Became Remarkable and Associate Professor of Psychology at Vanderbilt University
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This article is republished from our content partners over at The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. 
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swimmingnewsie · 5 years
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Of Coffee and Cookies (Chapter 5)
Is it even my fic if I don’t update at three in the morning? Have some delicious angst guys!
Enjoy!
Link to AO3
---
"Oh come on! How was that supposed to be Santa Claus?"
"He's got a hat! And a bag and a sleigh!"
"If you can call those circles that, Krissy, we may need to get your eyes checked."
Anna smiled as she watched her family. Christmas magic filled the air as she watched her sister and friends squabble over pictionary. In the weeks leading up, Anna had been worried. It was the first Christmas she had spent without Hans in almost seven years after all.
She still missed him some days. Missed the way that he would cuddle and coddle her on his good days. The kisses and the flowers to make up for all the bruises and drunken arguments. Anna knew she was right to get out of there. His bad traits far outweighed the good, and at her core she knew that. She might not even be alive if Elsa and Kristoff hadn't come and got her out that day. 
But some part of her still missed him, or perhaps she just missed the feeling of being a part of a couple. The feeling came in waves, apparent small moments that would seem insignificant to others. Like now, their pictionary game was divided up into teams of couples or times when Elsa and Kristoff would go on double dates. While other times, the thought of being with someone paralyzed her with fear, never wanting to love someone like that again. The bruises on her skin may have healed, but the ones on her heart hadn't.
Elsa had gotten her started with a therapist when she moved into her sister’s apartment. Elsa knew well enough that Anna wasn’t alright, even before Anna would admit it to herself. She was having nightmares every night, wasn't leaving the house, wouldn't talk to anyone aside from her sister. Anna needed more help than she could provide alone. Therapy helped to bring her back to her feet. She felt less jumpy, less afraid overall when she talked with the therapist. She had a job now, and money of her own to spend without guilt from Hans. She was healing, but other wounds still needed more time. 
Even though she was nervous, something felt better about this Christmas. The California rain replaced the picturesque Colorado snow she was used to, but it was beautiful in its own way. While others might describe the weather as less than ideal, it felt homey to Anna. The decorations she and Elsa put up felt real and authentic compared to the decor Hans arranged to be put up every year. And a December 23rd with pizza and good friends was most definitely better than a December 24th with caviar and her high society "friends".
"Come on, Anna! Your turn, siblings versus siblings!" Ryder called coming over to give her a shake on the arm. Anna reflexively jerked backwards. She tried to brush it off, but Ryder noticed. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Let's go play." Anna gave him a half smile. "Elsa and I are going to kick your butts!"
"Oh no you aren't!"
---
Anna woke up to a scream the next morning coming from Elsa's room. She bolted out of bed, running to her big sister's bedroom.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" Anna asked before she was able to take in the scene.
"Anna! Amundsen! They- they approved our grant! Oh my god, oh my god!" Elsa squealed in a way that Anna had never seen before. She pulled her laptop screen and showed it to Anna. "Dr. Porter and Ms. Arendelle, we here at Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station are happy to inform you that the National Science Foundation has approved your grant for an extended stay in Antarctica for your study on microorganisms in glacial environments!"
Anna's eyes widened as she realized what her sister was saying. Elsa and her advisor had been working on that grant for months with a hope and prayer for their dream project. "Elsa, that's amazing!" She grabbed Elsa into a tight hug.
"I- I can't believe it's actually gonna happen." Elsa wiped at her eyes, trying and failing to stop her tears. "I've dreamed about it for so long. It doesn't seem real."
Anna gave Elsa a squeeze. "It very much is real, Elsie, very much so. That's one hell of a Christmas present though. I'm not sure Maren or I will be able to match that," she teased.
"Oh hush," Elsa teased.
"Says the one screaming at 7:30 in the morning."
Elsa blushed heavily with her eyes softening. "Sorry. I couldn't help it." Her eyes drifted to her girlfriend lying in bed softly snoring. "I'm surprised I didn't wake her up."
"Vodka can certainly work some magic," Anna laughed. "...among other things."
"Anna!" she scolded playfully. "We haven't done...whatever it is you're insinuating."
"Sure you haven't." Anna rolled her eyes before taking her sister's hand. "Come on! We've got celebratory pancakes to make!"
Elsa smiled, allowing her sister to drag her to the kitchen. "Chocolate chip?"
"What kind of celebration would it be without them?"
---
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day went by in a blur. There was plenty of good food and cheer all around as Anna and Elsa jumped from house to house. Ever since their parents had passed five years ago, Christmas was spent with found families of all shapes and sizes.
Elsa had grown to love Christmas in a way she hadn't as a child. Their parents were kind and loving and there was never a lack of presents, but it couldn't compare to extravagance of Christmas Eve with Kristoff's family. A house filled to the brim with children and adults, where dinner was eaten on knees over good conversation, and no one was alone. The first time he brought her, it was overwhelming and scary. But now, it was something to look forward to, something she was glad to share with Anna. 
Bulda, a portly woman of 50, accepted the two of them as if they were part of the family, no questions asked. Well that was a lie. Plenty of people asked them plenty of questions there: what was she studying now, had she been eating enough lately, how long until we can call you Dr. Elsa? But those were questions she would happily answer, questions that were simply part of being in a family.
Anna thrived with Kristoff's family. There were plenty of kids she could run around with and entertain. She told stories about Christmas in Colorado where the snow came from all angles and how it always snowed on Christmas like the songs said. It brought joy to Elsa's heart to see Anna so happy. Her younger sister had always wanted a large family, and it thrilled her to see Anna get what she always desired. Bring with Kristoff's family was a dream come true.
Christmas with Maren's family was calmer in comparison. It was a far more formal affair, and Elsa couldn't help but feel a bit uptight. She had met some of them at the wedding, but it was still nerve-wracking. She wanted to impress, but it proved challenging when all the men sat stiffly with their cigars and the other women were engaged in conversations of marriage and motherhood and white picket fences. Elsa was used to sticking out, but it didn't make it any easier.
"It's okay," Honeymaren whispered in her ear during dinner."That's just how Dad's family is at these things. They're showboating."
"It didn't feel this tight at the wedding," she muttered. "What's different?"
"Open bar."
But soon enough, the day's festivities came to a close. Anna and Elsa ended their night together, just the way they wanted. They exchanged presents with one another before curling up to watch It's a Wonderful Life.
"Did you have a good day?" Elsa asked running an easy hand through her sister's hair.
"I did," Anna said, resting her head against Elsa's side. "Did you?"
Elsa hummed in agreement. "We were together. That's all I've wanted for so long." She felt hot tears falling into her side. Elsa looked down to see her sister crying. "Anna, love, what's wrong?" she asked, wiping away tears.
"It's my fault we haven't been together all those years! If I just left him! If I didn't believe his lies! We could have- we could have!" Anna broke into heavy sobs in her sister's arms.
Elsa felt her heart shatter, just like it did every time Anna blamed herself. She would be damned if that manipulative asshole ruined Anna's first Christmas in forever though. "Anna. Look at me," she said gently. Elsa knew firsthand how easily scared Anna could get in this state. "You are not at fault for his choices and what he did to you and how he made you feel. You did what you thought was right. And I never want you to think that I'm upset because you did what you needed to survive."
Anna sobbed loudly in her arms while Elsa rubbed soft circles on her back. "I love you more than anyone or anything, Anna. You are not unworthy of that love, regardless of anything that has happened in our past or anything that will happen in our future. Do you understand?"
Anna nodded as she clinged to Elsa. Her tears were starting to slow, but she still felt so so much. "Thank you."
"Why don't we get ready for bed? It's been a long day for everyone," Elsa suggested, looking around the room at their three cats, happily sleeping.
Anna nodded again. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight? I don't... I don't wanna be alone right now."
Elsa stood and offered a hand to her sister. "Only if you bring your own blanket. You're a blanket hog!" she teased.
Anna smiled, taking her hand. "At least I don't talk in my sleep!"
"You can put headphones on and ignore my lectures. There's nothing I can do about a cold bed!" It made them both laugh. "Come on, you stinker, let's go."
Anna fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, while Elsa's insomnia visited her yet again. But for once, she didn't mind. The day was great. Her grant was approved. She spent a lovely day with Maren and her family. But best of all, her sister was safe and sound, and they were together. That truly was the greatest present of all.
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