#Don’t you hate when you were in a good mood and suddenly it depletes out of nowhere

[mypoisonedvine]

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband.  you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t.  which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.  

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more.  He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue.  Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him?  A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable.  I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up.  But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman.  It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend.  Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all.  He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.  

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment.  He loved it, but he hated it, too.  

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

//

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.  

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight.  At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again.  As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation.  “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone.  But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times.  “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months.  And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that.  He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not.  This was something else entirely.  "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start.  In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what.  “And he… he knows that you… want that?  I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?”  He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way.  "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating.  It doesn't even work.  He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something.  And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal.  Do you know how often people talk about sex?  It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes.  Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night?  Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’?  Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.  

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again.  “It's been so long since somebody touched me.  I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional.  "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted.  “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me.  I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.  

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying.  “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow.  His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.  

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners.  It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head.  He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little.  And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.  

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants.  He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud.  He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation.  You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you.  Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.  

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough.  After all, you had asked him to give you everything.  So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.  You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking.  He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration.  Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle.  He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.”  Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it.  It was just too good to be true.  So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again.  Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that.  Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him?  He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it.  "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.  

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him.  It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place.  That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.”  And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on.  “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh?  You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly.  “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin.  "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly.  The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially.  Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true.  He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly.  “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally.  He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way.  so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore.  When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip.  You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh.  The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster.  He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover.  For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be.  He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it.  He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment.  Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily.  Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then.  "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come.  It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck.  His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it.  But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently.  You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.  

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.  

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.  

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest.  He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away.  When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[zabrak-show]

Sleepless in Sundari | Maul x Reader

Sleepless in Sundari | Maul x Reader (gender neutral)

@brilliantbutbatty​ asked: Hello there! Could I request a fluff where s/o is super tired and refuses to go sleep, until Maul insists?

This is such a cute prompt. I wanted to make the reason for reader’s sleeplessness a good thing to try and not trigger anyone. So this is set in Mandalore at the Sundari Royal Palace during a big ball that the reader planned.

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: Fluff, alcohol mentioned, Maul does pick reader up (I know that can come off as not inclusive, but my reasoning was that Maul is extremely strong physically and in the force so there’s no reason he couldn’t pick someone up in my mind.), as always in my writing, Maul is soft lol, also there is a curse word or two.

Tonight was the night you’d been waiting on for months. The grand ball between all the factions of the Shadow Collective. You had single handedly planned almost all of the details, down to the smallest features like what shape ice cubes the cocktails would have (small star shapes), where each guest would sit, the menu, the music selection, and on and on. You were exhausted, but so happy and excited the night was finally here.

You were getting dressed in the bedroom, when hands suddenly wrapped around your waist from behind you and a deep, low voice whispered in your ear,

“You look unbelievably beautiful, my love” You sunk into his arms and slowly turned to look into his bright amber eyes.

“Oh Maul! I am so nervous and excited about tonight. I don’t think I’ve slept in days planning for this.” You reached up to touch his crimson face and trace the complex black tattoos accenting his features so handsomely. You never tired of studying everything about him. He leaned in to lightly kiss you on the lips.

“Everything is set. You did an amazing job and now all you need to do is have a good time at the party you planned so diligently.” he reassured you.

“Yes, I suppose. I guess having all these different powerful forces come together at once is just a little nerve wracking for me.” you admitted, biting your lower lip. Maul began to laugh and held you at arm's length speaking in his deep melodramatic voice,

“What could you have to fear when you have me at your side? Always remember I am fear. Always remember--”

“Yes, my love, I remember,” you cut him off, something only you could get away with and actually have him shut up for a moment. “I am not worried about you or me, I just want everyone to have a good time and for it to go smoothly. There is a lot riding on this party whether you want to acknowledge that or not.” you looked deep into his eyes and held onto his waist as you spoke, the warmth of his body traveling through your fingertips and igniting that spark inside of you that only he could achieve.

“Of course, I promise everyone will have a good time.” he leaned in to kiss you again and continued, “Now are you ready? I can’t possibly show up to this thing alone.” he teased.

The Sundari Royal Palace was dressed to the nines tonight, and everything and everyone looked absolutely magical. The chandeliers gave off a cool blue light onto everything below and the windows were wide open to let in the cool night breeze, so desperately needed with all the bodies enclosed in one space. There was a blue and golden aura around everyone and all felt like a dream. Not to mention, you were walking into it all as the center of attention, wrapped around the love of your life.

The band stopped the music and everyone slowly stopped talking as you both approached the front of the ballroom. Maul made a grandiose speech about the Shadow Collective and how important all the powers that be were to making it a cohesive unit. You mostly tuned out as you looked around making sure everything was as you had planned it. Maul name-dropped you to thank you for all the planning and you smiled and gave a little wave of acknowledgement as the crowd roared in approval.

The band started up again and Maul was immediately busy networking with everyone. As much as you loved being at his side, listening to these pathetic crime lords try to suck up to Maul was not something you had the patience for any longer. You made your way around the party checking in on guests and on the waiters. Finally, deciding you deserved some food and drink too, you grabbed a plate of food and a cocktail and headed to an empty table.

A deep friendly voice sounded out behind you, “Someone so ethereal shouldn’t be by themselves, your majesty.” You turned, smiling and knowing immediately whose voice it was.

“Savage!” you went in for an immediate hug and the tall, yellow, and the armored zabrak laughed heartily, hugging you firmly back.

“This party kind of blows, huh, I wonder who planned it?!” you joked to him.

“This party absolutely does NOT blow. And I know first hand who planned it and they did a marvelous job. How dare you say otherwise.” He said furrowing his brow. You forgot how sarcasm was so easily lost on the night brothers. Maul was at least sort of getting used to it, but Savage was a lost cause for it, especially anything self deprecating. He only wanted to lift up those around him who he cared for. It was extremely sweet and admirable, but damn if it wasn’t a little annoying at times when you just wanted a laugh out of someone.

“Savage, you’re so sweet. I’m glad I ran into you. Where have you been?” you asked gently, holding back the desire to roll your eyes.

“Did Maul not tell you? I have had to wrangle….” His eyes grew wide as he looked around at the surroundings and his voice grew quiet, “it’s best I not discuss it out loud here.”

“Oh ok I understand.” You smiled at him, a yawn suddenly encompassing your entire face it felt. You tried to hold it back, but it was out of your control and just happening. Thankfully, you were with Savage, who was the least judgmental person in the galaxy.

“You must be so tired from all this planning.” he said with a concerned look on his face “and i’m sure my brother was little to no help to you.” he crossed his arms and scanned the room to see where Maul was.

“Maul is busy with his own duties. I said I would plan this and I was happy to do so. I’m just so tired now.” you choked back another yawn as you spoke to Savage. He hummed a not so quiet disapproval.

“Let’s dance! That will wake me up!” you exclaim to him, trying to tap into your already depleted reserve of energy.

“Oh. You know i’m not really good at dancing. i don’t even really--” you cut him off as you grabbed his arm and dragged his giant carcass onto the dance floor. The music was lively and upbeat so you and Savage stood face to face making ridiculous dance moves and faces to the music. You laughed hysterically, which made Savage smile fiercely and continue to act completely goofy. The poor boy would never understand sarcasm, but he understood how good it felt to make someone he cared deeply for laugh and smile, and he had absolutely no shame.

Eventually, Maul walked over to you and Savage dancing like complete fools. His arms were crossed and his brow furrowed harshly.

“I see the children are having a good time.” He said coldly. You and Savage immediately stopped dancing and looked at him with shocked expressions to his rudeness. Maul threw up his arms in defeat,

“You told me sarcasm was funny, and yet no one laughed.” his brows furrowed in defeat as you started cackling out.

“Oh Maul, my love, I think you don’t quite get it yet, but I love that you are trying!” you laughed and reached out for his arms. He resisted a tiny bit at first, but ultimately decided he couldn’t deny you anything including himself and wrapped himself around you.

“I missed you my love. Why did you wander away from me?” he whispered, his hot breath on your ear and neck where he spoke.

“I just hate how pathetic everyone acts trying to suck up to you. I mean I get it, there is no other reaction to have towards you, but it exhausts me seeing these so-called powerful crime lords simpering.” you quietly expressed into his ear, as he hugs you closer, each word you say.

“I think I’ll go check on-- something…” Savage mumbled as he walked away from the two of you melting into each other’s arms.

You felt your eyelids get so heavy now in the comfort of Maul’s strong arms and resting your head on his shoulder.

“You are so tired, my love. I’ve sensed it all night.” he put his hand on the back of your head and you felt yourself further softening. You could have fallen asleep standing if it weren’t for everything happening around you. The music matched the mood and played a slow love song. You clung harder to the crimson zabrak and he purred lightly.

“I will be ok, I want to stay until the end with you,” you sleepily replied as the song you were dancing to came to an end. He grabbed your hand and walked you off the dance floor.

The rest of the party you were with Maul and Savage as the three of you mingled with the crowd. It was much more bearable now that everyone was a little more loosened up than when the party first began.

Slowly, folks began to make their way out for the evening. The three of you stayed to see everyone out and make sure there were no issues. You started helping the staff clear off tables.

“My love, it is time for us to retire for the evening.” Maul gently grabbed your arm to turn you around to face him.

“Oh, it’s alright. I’ll stay and help clean. I’m too wired from all the excitement now to sleep anyway.” you smiled as you spoke, but your tired eyes gave you away. He looked at you unconvincingly and picked you up without warning and throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp and punched his back laughing.

“Maul! Put me down. This is not necessary.” you pleaded with laughter spilling out, making it impossible for him to take you seriously.

“You will not stop worrying about this party even after it is over. I am too tired to plead with you.” He explained as he walked you swiftly down the hall.

“Ok. Ok. I won't argue you can put me down.” and with that he gently put you down and you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head on his shoulder as you walked down the hall together. The halls were dark and quiet save for the flickering lanterns on the wall lighting your way, and the soft murmur of the party goers off in the distance going their own ways for the evening. You felt such contentment for how successful the party was and how lucky you were to be with the most handsome man in the entire galaxy.

At last, you both made it back to your bedroom. You both undressed quietly and climbed into the giant bed you shared. You were exhausted, but your heart was racing from all the adrenaline of the party.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to calm down enough to sleep.” you almost whispered, feeling like you were going to cry from the tiredness

“Sure you will. Lie your head here.” Maul motioned for you to lie on his shoulder and he wrapped that arm around to lightly pet your head, neck and upper back. He smelled so good, his natural body odor mixing with the fresh rose scent of your hair. You wrapped your legs around his, the cool metal was comforting to you in contrast to the radiating heat of his upper body. It was the best of both worlds. You put your hand on his chest to feel for his heartbeats. The rhythm of his hearts always calmed and soothed you.

His petting was doing the trick and you could feel your heart rate slow as you matched his slow breathing as well. He kissed the top of your head and whispered,

“You are my everything.”

You closed your eyes and held him close as you finally slipped out of consciousness a slight smile curving your lips as you slept.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Thank you for reading! <3 I hope it’s comforting! I thought it would be cute to write Savage as like the goofy brother in law hehe I think he’d be so fun to dance silly with

tag list: @brilliantbutbatty​ 

@maulieber​

@botherbother-blog​

@emissarydecksetter​

@a-dorin​

#maul x reader #fluff #mandalore #maul #savage opress #shadow collective #star wars x reader #fanfic request #darth maul fanfic #lord maul #soft maul #prequels era

[eyeless-cunt]

THERE IS MORE

Witness Protection

You should know what this is by now

Chapter 3 y’all

You felt as though you were going insane. The man hadn't said a single word to you since the weird field area. Only lord knew if the ancient vehicle you sat in had a working radio. Asking was out of the question, you still had tape over your mouth. Couldn't check, you had tape gloves that went all the way up your arms, rendering them useless. With half lidded eyes, you stare at your disheveled figure in the side mirror. Dear god, you looked like shit. The blood on the side of your face had caked into a gross brown and was beginning to flake off, leaving you looking like you were a burn victim. You wince internally. You had mangled hair, with strands sticking every which way. Bags under the eyes displayed your lack of sleep and slowly depleting sanity. With a nearly inaudible groan, you tap your head against the glass. 'Can't he just kill me and get this over with? I don't know how much sitting in dead silence I'm going to be able to handle.' You slouch heavily, slowly sinking to the floor of the truck.

"You'll hurt your back sitting like that," his monotone voice stated off handedly. You huff and remain there. He sighs and grabs the back of your shirt, tugging you up to sit properly. You groan. Apparently sitting weirdly isn't even an option. He remains facing forward, not even glancing in your direction. Unable to spit insults at him, you level a heated glare at instead. He either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Maybe a good mix of both. It wasn't easy to tell how long you sat there, giving a dirty look to a man that probably couldn't even see you past the hood he had been wearing this entire time, but you assumed it had been about ten minutes or so. The truck suddenly stopped. You break out of your hate filled trance and look around. Why did he park in an actual parking lot? Was he going to let you go? The thought filled your heart with hope. He popped open the center console and pulled out a large bottle of what sounded like pills. Christ, was he about to just pop a few pills to deal with your bullshit? He pulled his mask off, placing it in the back seat. The cap popped off and he dumped a few out, throwing them into his mouth and closing the bottle. He pulled the hood down, giving you a clear view of the side of his head. You voice your distress at his appearance in muffled screams. He sighs heavily, leaning his head back against his seat, not seeming bothered. The screaming grew louder as his features shifted.

He opened his eyes and glanced at you, letting you get a clear view of his eyes. The screaming ceased in shock. How had you not seen them under his mask? With how bright the blue of his iris was, one would think they would glow in the dark. He pulled the visor down to examine his face in the small mirror embedded inside. He licked his teeth, turned his face from side to side. It finally clicked why he sounded familiar. He was the weird guy that had been staring at you when you changed out shifts with a coworker. You sigh internally. No point in thinking about it now, you guessed. He had murdered someone and kidnapped you, you had bigger things to worry about. His buckle clicked and you snapped out of your thoughts.

"I'll be back," he said simply, clicking something on the side of the door and closing it. Did- did that fucker just turn the child lock on?! Where the fuck were you gonna go in blood soaked clothes and taped up arms?! You send a hateful glare at his retreating form. He went into a store. A very large store. The fuck was he doing?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He bit the inside of his cheek as he entered the store. Did she really have to scream like that? Probably, not everyday you see a man with grey skin. And it's also not everyday you see him suddenly become a shapeshifter after popping some pills. Either way, it really wasn't a boost of confidence for his already weak self esteem. Whatever. He had a reputation to uphold, and that meant keeping his cool, constantly. He'd already almost lost it on her while she was being annoying the night before. No point in risking it now. Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes. He began his journey towards the clothes section of the store before he paused. He forgot to ask what her sizes were. He facepalmed. And she had been wearing heels too. He grumbled, figuring it'd be easier to deal with that later. Right now he had to focus on getting her clothes that weren't stained with blood. He debated on heading to the women's section, guess her size. No, bad idea. Someone is bound to try to talk to him. He was a tall man, he had no reason to be in the women's section, and people were bound to wonder. Both his pride and crippling social anxiety told him to not risk it. Avoiding talking with people was a priority. With a deep breath, he swiveled on his heel, headed towards the mens. He'd just grab some smaller sized jeans or something. There was a time where baggy jeans were popular right? He furrowed his brows as he thought, as he did a lot. His mind continued to wander until he reached the clothes. He eyed the jeans and opted to grab a pair of skinny jeans, in a random size that looked like they would fit her. He wasn't exactly staring at her legs, so he hoped that brief mental image he had in his mind was enough. He turned to the shirts. Any of them would work, they just couldn't be too big. He really wasn't in the mood to listen to her bitch and whine about him being a 'pervert' because it dipped too low and showed her bra.

He grabbed a basic black tee, looking to be maybe a size smaller than he got his own shirts. That'll do. He got a second pair of pants and a second shirt, just for good measure. He bit his tongue. He knew a little bit about the hygienic needs of a woman, but he hadn't smelled any blood or hormonal spike on her, so he figured she'd be fine for now. As he made his way to a different part of the store, he passed a shelf of hoodies. He backed up. Should he get her a hoodie? That would be awfully nice of him. She had done nothing to deserve any form of kindness from Jack. Letting her live was the extent of his mercy for her. 'But if she isn't cold that's less things she'll have to bitch about…' he mulled it over in his head before deciding. He'd get another hoodie for himself and let her wear it passively. 'What a fucking genius you are, Jack, absolute genius' he congratulated himself, grabbing a dark colored hoodie that was in his size. He nodded, satisfied and went to get a few more items.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You had been pretty confident he up and died in that store, he took so long. But alas, he had to return. You watched his form make its way to your side of the truck and reflexively shifted away. He swung it open, placing the bags he held onto the ground while he stood onto the step to reach your seatbelt clip. He tore off the tape, unclipping the restraint. The tape on your mouth went next.

"Spit an insult at me and I'll cut off your tongue," he quipped. You closed your mouth. "Good girl," he himself seemed to cringe at what he just said, judging by the sigh he released. You scrutinized his face as he worked on the tape on your arms with intense concentration. He had tiny freckles all over his face. They were so small it was impossible to see them from a distance, but they were everywhere. His nose, his cheeks, even the top of his neck and between his eyes. You would've found him attractive if you didn't know it wasn't what he actually looked like. Tanned skin and soft looking auburn hair helped him sell the whole 'fucking gorgeous' thing.

"What's with the whole 'pretty boy' get up?" you murmur. He pauses and looks up at you, confused. "why did you choose this look to be normal?" He searched her face for any underlying intentions. When he found none, he shrugged.

"Didn't get a choice," He finally managed to get the tape off of your hands and arms.

"You got damn lucky with it then, you coulda been ugly," you shrugged. He took a deep breath and didn't respond, instead reaching into the bag and pulling out a package of what appeared to be baby wipes. "I'm not a baby,"

"I noticed," he opened the package and pulled out a wipe. He gripped your jaw and turned your head to the side.

"I can do this myself,"

"Don't trust you," as usual, his response was simple. He wiped the dried blood off of your face rather harshly.

"Hey, hey! Be gentler! I'm not dead yet!" He growled lowly and held your face tighter in his hand, wiping the rest of the blood off of any currently visible skin. He took another wipe and used it to wipe off any tape or dirt residue off of you. "What gives with the mini bath?"

"You'll see," He pushed your head down, bending you so that your chest was pressed tightly against your thighs. He threw what you assumed to be the wipes into the back before letting you sit up again. He picked up the bag from off of the pavement and handed it to you. "Change," he closed the truck door. He must've gotten you clothes so you wouldnt be covered in blood constantly. You pull out a pair of jeans and a shirt, followed by an extremely oversized hoodie. You quirk a brow but peek out the window. The man was scrolling on his phone, back pressed against the car door. You deemed it safe to change and stripped down, pulling the new, clean clothes on. You rummaged through the bag some more and came across a hair brush, dry shampoo, and deodorant. Questionable items, but you put them to use. You felt like a human again. A soft knock on the window startled you. There he was. You blink dumbly at him. He points down. You look down. You had locked the door. With a sigh, you unlocked the door and he opened it.

"You didn't stare at me while I was changing, did you?" you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

"I've got no reason to," he took the hoodie out of the bag and threw it at you. "Wear it if you want," he threw the bag in the backseat. You huff and pull the sweater over your head. He closed the door and moved to the drivers side. He strapped in and started the truck.

"Why'd you make me freshen up and stuff?"

"You need food. I don't know what you want," He made the short drive to a gas station that was only about five minutes up the road. He unstrapped and went to your side, opening the door. "Out," You unstrapped and slipped out of the truck, a little wobbly from not standing for so long. The heels didn't help.

"You're coming in with me?"

"I'm the one with money,"

"There's another reason, isn't there,"

"That one is obvious. Now listen. You go in there, grab anything you need, and if anyone asks, I'm your boyfriend," he briefed.

"Why do I have to say you're my boyfriend?"

"You won't have to if you don't act suspicious, now let's go, I've spoken to much,"

"You got a word limit or something?"

"Mentally," he ushered you inside.

"You gonna act all boyfriendy?"

"Boyfriendy?"

"Are you gonna act like my boyfriend?"

"Yes, and you'll have to deal,"

"Ew, but why,"

"There won't be any kissing," he rolled his eyes.

"What if you need to?"

"I won't" he guided you to the hot foods area. "Now get your food," He stayed close as you grabbed two slices of pizza and a hot dog, putting them in mini bags. "It's a long drive, go get yourself some snacks," you nod and sort of hand him your hot food, which he holds with no complaint. His eyes hold a glimmer of warning, telling you not to do anything stupid.

You're examining the chips on the different shelves when some girl about your age comes up to you.

"Did you hear?" She leans in close.

"Hear what?" you tilt your head.

"About the murder at that hotel. Apparently the murderer took a hostage with them, one of the staff," you pretend to be shocked and that the hostage was 100% not you.

"Really?" top tier lying this was. You just hoped it was believable. She nodded.

"By the way that guy has kind of been staring you down this entire time," she whispered. "Hey, creep! Why don't you go bother some other chick-!"

"Wait! It's ok," you subtly gulp and turn to your kidnapper, acting as natural as possible. "Babe, are you gonna keep standing there like a stalker?" He shook his head.

"S-sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, moving to stand next to you. He somehow managed to look bashful, blush and all. His posture was slouched to look more weak and not as standoffish. He probably took an acting class at some point.

"Oh, you're dating," she seemed relieved. You nod. "Can I have proof?"

"Why- why do you need proof that we're dating?"

"With the whole hostage thing I just wanna make sure he isn't the murderer, or you aren't, you never know,"

"It does make a bit of sense," your abductor agreed, somehow flying through this whole interaction look weak and pathetic, and making it look like he was completely off the list of possible suspects. She raised her eyebrows, waiting. He looks down at you and you look up at him, seeming to have the same idea. He leans down and you meet him halfway in a short kiss. The taste of iron and blood you expected never showed up. When you two pulled away from each other, the woman visibly relaxed.

"Alright, sorry for being weird. Have a nice day!" she waved. You waved along with the man. He grabs your hand.

"She made a scene, we gotta keep up the appearance," he whispered as he leaned down, followed by a kiss on the cheek to cover it up. You notice some people were definitely staring.

"Got it," you whisper back. Pulling your hand away from his you grab a bag of chips. "Do we wanna get chips or something else for the trip?"

"You'll be eating them more than me,"

"Yeah but I don't want you to think I'm greedy for eating them all,"

"I won't think you're greedy,"

"Yes you will," you put the chips back.

"You can get the chips, babe," You whine.

"But-!"

"You're fine," he took the chips off of the shelf and placed them in your hands. He mouthed something to you. 'Jack'. You assumed that was his name.

"You sure, Jackie? You're 100% sure?"

"Yes," You shrug and grab the collar of his hoodie and yank him down, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," you coo. He hums and pecks your lips. The line is fairly short as you two go to pay. Jack pays and before you leave the guy manning the register bids you farewell.

"Be safe, you two lovebirds,"

"We will, have a nice day!" The moment you're both in the car you place the bag down and go to fetch the wet wipes to wipe your mouth off. They were too far back and you sighed. "You're a really good actor," you comment. "Your affection felt real," he hums.

"Likewise," he seemed greatly uncomfortable, and it made you wonder what he meant by mental word limit. Either that or he just really did not like pretending to be dating his hostage. You shrug. Best to ask once you've eaten. You unwrap your hotdog and take a bite.

#OH MY GOOOOODDDD #THE AFFECTION MADE MY HEART SWELL #IM SOBBINGGGGG #THIS IS SO CUTEE #LITERALLY THE BEST #i simply CANT FUNCTION #ITS TOO GOOD #eyeless jack fanfiction #eyeless jack #submisson #creepypasta #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fanfic #eyeless jack fanfic #creepypasta imagines #submission

[justloosecannons]

Finding Out/ Jake ft Eden

when: yesterday where: outs and abouts mentions: n/a description: jake is confronted with the fact that two can play at his game trigger warnings: mentions of body dysmorphia ideals, and sexual acts @partialhearts​

Jake:

hooking his thumbs beneath the straps of his backpack, he wiggles just enough to redistribute the weight in it as he let out a hefty sigh. the party from the night before had been wild, and he was lucky to have snuck out in the early hours to catch at least a little rest. before trying to make it over to the coffee shop before his date with addi to get some writing done. crossing the street at the light, its only then that he sees eden. in the same clothes from the party the night before. he's not entirely certain who's place it was, but his heart seems to drop and crack in the pit of his stomach. he freezes, and only steps forward when he's honked at. visibly shaken, he jogs the rest of the way across the street and tries to calm an aching chest. "stupidstupidstupid." he rasps under his breath, knowing he's being unfair by the feeling of jealousy combined with absolute heartache he feels in the confines of his bones.

Eden:

her head is throbbing, and she makes a stop to pick up coffee from the local cafe, hoping that it might somehow help the dull ache in her head. she doesn't see jake until she hears the honk of a car, and her attention is quickly drawn to his direction. she was acting just like him, she knew it, she was stumbling out of the beds of strangers just as jake used to, and she wasn't being subtle about it either. "morning!" she calls, waving over at him casually.

Jake:

hearing her voice, meant that there was absolutely no way out of this impossibly uncomfortable scenario, which only further sent his heart directly into his stomach, only stopping to crumble and break off as it haphazardly hit various inners on the spiral down. a knot forms in his throat, and he quickly clenches his jaw in an effort to not show an ounce of emotion across his features. "hey - i..." he brushes his hand through the air to acknowledge her before he glances around, realizing he would have to walk right by her to get to his chosen spot. letting out a shaky breath, he pushed forward, and avoided eye contact entirely, truly afraid of the minor details that would prove how she had been spending her time. "just.... coffee shop.... gonna.. try to write." his voice cracks, keeping his head down.

Eden:

he's being awkward, and eden is suddenly a little regretful, wishing she hadn't drawn attention to herself, or said hi. is he okay? she's too scared to ask. "oh right, yeah -- okay." he's avoiding her, right? but eden really thought they were doing good, that they were on their way to becoming friends. "i was just on my way there, too."

Jake:

"nice, yeah.... cool." he clears his throat as his eyes stay put on the sidewalk below, suddenly very aware of her proximity and instantly envisioning hands all over the frame that he had once claimed as his own. his eyes lifted for just a moment, and he caught sight of a darkened mark on her neck, and let out a defeated sigh. "cold whisk. kitchen whisk. it'll...." he nodded with his head. "used to have to before i went to work after..." nights with you.

Eden:

she's confused, not sure what it is he is talking about, but then she realises he's talking about her neck and eden claps her hand over the mark with a bright pink flush rising to her cheeks. "oh i - yeah, i'll give that a try when i get home."

Jake:

“sure thing. hope it was nice, at least.” offering the smallest smile in her direction, and an ounce of bite - he nods before he’s turning to heard towards the cafe in question. his heart aches - as if it’s already in pieces and the organ pumping his blood of a foreign object. his fingers grip tightly at the straps of his bag as he lets out a bough that feels strangled.

Eden:

was jake really telling her that he hoped her sex life was good? she clears her throat, feeling a little awkward as they stand there, not really knowing what to say to one another. she decides not to react to the comment, for it will simply do neither of them any good. "i was just gonna get a coffee to you, are you...staying here?"

Jake:

“no i... sorry.” he clears his throat and nearly stumbles as he starts he’s feet up once more. he knows it’s unfair. he knows that he no longer holds claim to anything about eden, which meant that she was essentially a free agent - but, the way it consumed him nearly completely, left him throbbing. the walk felt awkward - which wasn’t them. had never been them, but his mind kept alternating between their last kiss - and... well, her most recent activities. there’s so much he has to say, but nothing comes out. stepping up to the counter, her order tumbled from between his lips right after his own before he has a moment to stop it.

Eden:

she stiffens when he puts in her order, he's being kind, and it ruins her every time. there's something about it that makes her nervous, because will every ever get to be friends? she wishes they could - she wants to be able to take care of him, he deserves that. but does she deserve to hurt again? "i'll get these." she says quickly, adding jake's order to the list before she's handing her card over to pay.

Jake:

the second she’s holding her card out, he’s simply shaking his head and sliding a fistful of cash to the barista. “here - keep the change. thank you.” he hums, taking her card only to carefully slide it into her back pocket. dark eyes search the space before he finds a table, and drops his stuff onto it. he hates it. he hates that he can’t be close to her and not touch her - because he’s desperate, and needy - and he’s never wanted anything more than her.

Eden:

she sighs, sad that jake rejects her attempts to pay, feeling a little depleted as she pushes her card back into her pocket. "is it always going to be like this between us?"

Jake:

it feels like a loaded question as he nods towards the seat across from him. letting out a hefty sigh, his fingers throw themselves through his curls. “it’s just... a little shocking, seeing you out - in last nights clothes and a hickey. just...” he shrugs, not fully prepared to explain that it hurts him.

Eden:

it feels unfair, why does jake get to do all those things and she doesn't? why did he get the double standard? "i'm just having fun - jake - for once in my life i'm just, doing what i want to do." she sighs, "all i've done my whole life is live for everyone else."

Jake:

it falls on his chest like a heavy weight when she speaks. “i-“ he starts, but hears his name. excusing himself, he collects their drinks and deposits them back on the table before glancing up at her again. “i’m not judging you - or telling you what you’re doing is wrong. i...” he sighs, picking at the cup. “i just don’t like it. and i’m not... saying that, that’s fair either..”March 24, 2021

Eden:

"i didn't like it when you told me you loved me and 3 hours later you were fucking some other bitch." she stares at him, hard, her throat tight. does he not see? does he have no idea what he's done to her, the pain he's caused. all the self doubt, the way she hated other women, when women weren't the problem or the enemy. "i hated all of it, i tore myself up because of it. and i'm so fucking sorry, that i have to look for validation in everyone else who isn't you.”

Jake:

the words seem to seep into him in a way that he can't really explain, but he knows that it rocks him to his very core in an instant. he could feel eyes on him immediately - people that overheard her, instantly looking at him. "i didn't... i-" his brows furrowed as his stomach turned, eyes flickering across the space as he tries to put his thoughts into some sort of cohesive statement. "i'm not saying that you're wrong. you are free to do, see, or fuck - whomever you want, eden. i... you aren't my girlfriend anymore. right? you aren't.... you're not mine. and i have to live with that. i'm just saying that you might send the wrong message when you're kissing me, and then fucking someone else - but again, not really any of my business who you fuck. but, i'm super appreciative of the fact that everyone in this god damn coffee shop knows that i'm an asshole. thank you." he huffs, tossing his bag onto his shoulders once more, brushing by her.

Eden:

she stares at jake's back as he pushes by her, and she knows she's confused him by kissing him, she did wrong. but hadn't he? all the times he swore he'd be better, do better, and he didn't. tears burn in her eyes, and she can feel everyone looking at her, at jake, at them, at the mess they had created. she doesn't chase after him, she knows she can't, she doesn't want to cause more of a scene. instead she just clutches her coffee and makes off in the opposite direction, allowing the tears to burn in her eyes.

Jake:

his fingers roughly tangle in wild curls as he makes his way down winding roads. he had only wanted to write - having felt moderately inspired to do so as of late, but his mood was completely shot. note to self: a whole new percentage of the population now hates you. it wasn't that it wasn't deserved, jake was well aware that the errors and careless actions he had taken with eden, had earned him the right to be judged. but, god - did he love her. making his way back into his apartment, he tossed a wave in koda's direction to let him know he was back, before falling back on his bed and pulling the small stuffed animal to his chest as his free hand toyed with the threads from the hold in his jeans.

#jake ft eden #jp.

[no6secretsanta]

warming up

for: @flat-san

from: @iwatch-theworld

Happy holidays! Here is a sort of modern-ish AU fic that I hope qualifies as “super schmoopy fluff” :) Getting to write Safu and Inukashi was a delight, as well as writing their group dynamic with Shion and Nezumi, lol. I hope you enjoy, and have a wonderful holiday season & rest of the year! <3

***

            “How lame,” Safu sighs.

            “Seriously,” Inukashi agrees. “That’s probably the worst I’ve ever seen.”

            “Like a grade schooler made it.”

            “My dogs could do better.”

            Nezumi narrows his eyes at the two idly making prodding remarks and leaning casually against the wall of Karan’s bakery. Safu is wrapped up in her baby pink scarf, arms crossed, snug and cozy, and Inukashi is wearing a black jacket so long it reaches their knees, their hair loose and messy. “All your dogs can do is turn the pure white snow into a putrid yellow,” he retorts. “This is nearly perfect.”

            “Perfect, he says,” Inukashi scoffs.

            “The head. It’s off 4.1 centimeters on the left,” Safu points out.

            “Are you serious?” Nezumi laughs, disbelieving. “You can tell just by looking?”

            Safu furrows her brow. “Of course.”

             “Well, if you don’t like it, make one yourself instead of standing there uselessly.”

            “You’re the one who said you could do it. We’re testing your skills.” Inukashi smirks.

            “Shion and I are already experts,” Safu retorts, not looking at him, examining her fingernails. “It would be unfair.”

            “Is that so? One of the boy genius’s many talents is that he’s a master in snowman-making?” Nezumi retorts.

            “Don’t turn your anger on me, Nezumi,” Shion says, squatting, examining Nezumi’s ever-so-slightly lopsided snowman. “There’s no shame in not being good at something you’ve never done before.”

            “Hey, wait, who said it’s not good? And why would I be ashamed of something so—”

            “There you go.” Shion grabs a handful of snow, smooths it into the side of its head. “I bet that feels better, Mr. Snowman. We’ll get you some arms and eyes soon, too.”

            “This is ridiculous,” Nezumi mutters.

            “Don’t be a sore loser,” Inukashi jabs.

            “Shion, that’s not fair. He was supposed to do it himself,” Safu says, lifting herself off of the wall and walking over to where Shion and Nezumi are. Inukashi follows closely behind.

            “He made most of it. Besides, wouldn’t you feel bad for the snowman if we just left him like that?”

            Safu eyes Shion for a second, hesitates before saying, “I suppose so.”

            “Well, there you go. It’s done,” Nezumi says, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re finished here. I’m leaving now.” Without waiting for a response, he turns his heel to start heading away.

            But Shion reaches out, places a hand on his shoulder. Nezumi freezes. “Wait. I just said he still needs a face. You can’t quit partway through.”

            Nezumi almost sighs, catches himself, says, “And where are we getting its face?”

            “My mom has some raisins she said we could use. I’ll be right back.” Shion removes his hand from Nezumi’s shoulder, and Nezumi watches him as he walks back to the bakery. Once inside, Nezumi turns his attention back to the snowman, blank-faced and empty, for a few moments, but feels two sets of eyes boring into him. “Can I help you two?”

            “What a brat,” Inukashi says.

            “Childish. Immature,” Safu agrees flatly.

            “Doesn’t know a damn thing.”

            “You’re the ones who suggested this,” Nezumi shoots back. “Why do you care so much about my snowman crafting abilities? I bet you don’t even know either, Inukashi.”

            Inukashi sticks their tongue out.

            “Simple-minded. Foolish,” Safu continues.

            “Vague. Pointless,” Nezumi retorts.

            Safu sighs. “I never cared for doing this,” she gestures to the snowman, “but Shion loved it when we were little. I don’t know why. Personally, I think snow is much more interesting when you look at individual flakes under a microscope—”

            “Yeah, yeah, you’re a huge geek, we know.”

            Safu continues, unruffled. “And the point you’re not getting is that this is something fun Shion likes. And you’re not taking advantage of it.”

            “Like a big dummy,” Inukashi teases.

            “Enough from the peanut gallery,” Nezumi snaps.

            Tongue again.

            “Inukashi’s right,” Safu asserts. “At least act like you’re having fun. Instead of being a… a boring…moody—sort of—”

            “Dummy!” Inukashi helps.

            “Dummy,” Safu agrees.

            Nezumi sighs for real this time. Dealing with Shion is one thing, an ordeal in itself, a not depleting but still relatively significant toll on his energy reserves. Inukashi used to be a small annoyance, like a buzzing fly, miniscule and easily swatted away, not too difficult to handle, but ever since their group expanded and they became friends with Safu, the two had become a tiring pair to deal with.

            But while Inukashi was a brat, like a kid sibling, Safu was someone more on equal footing he could exchange quips with, and he respected her insight.

            Most of the time. Like when she’s not calling him a boring, moody dummy.

            “And what? You two are trying to create some sort of romantic atmosphere with snowman building and insults? It’s working wonders so far. As you can see.”

            “It would be easier if you had a better attitude,” Safu says.

            “And it would be easier for me if you weren’t here.”

            “We’re just helping you get it off the ground,” Inukashi says.

            “A sort of friend-hangout-turned-romantic-date thing,” Safu adds.

            “Didn’t ask for your help,” Nezumi says.

            “You need it, though,” Safu counters.

            “You—”

            The bell above the door of Karan’s bakery jingles, and Shion returns, a small basket in hand. “Sorry I was gone so long,” he says. “Mom actually didn’t have any spare raisins—raisin bread has been popular lately, for some reason. But we found some dried apricots instead.”

            “…Great,” Nezumi says, completely unable to care about the dried fruit.

            “I’m glad you found something, Shion.” Safu smiles, any trace of harshness from the previous conversation vanished from her expression, replaced only with the gentle warmness she always has around Shion. “We’ll leave the finishing touches to you boys, then. Inukashi and I have other plans.”

            “Plans? You two?” Nezumi queries.

            “She’s gonna help me identify all the dog breeds I have,” Inukashi says, grinning, obviously excited. “Don’t know ‘em myself. Just know which ones are the fluffiest, best blankets, which are siblings, stuff like that. Don’t know anything about breeds.”

            “Didn’t know you were a dog person,” Nezumi says to Safu.

            “I’m not partial to any particular animal. But Shion’s interested in ecology, and I’ve helped him study sometimes. I know all the different kinds of both domestic and wild dogs and cats, a variety of fish, rodents, trees, fungi, and more.”

            “It’s true,” Shion says. “But she’s lying about not being partial to particular animals. Safu loves cats.”

            Nezumi’s not sure why, but Safu almost immediately blushes, as if embarrassed by her fondness of cats. “Well, anyway, we should be going. See you later.” She grabs Inukashi’s hand and starts powerwalking away. Inukashi sticks their tongue out at Nezumi one last time as they’re pulled along.

            Nezumi makes no reaction, just turns back around to face Shion, and as soon as he does Shion grabs his wrist, his fingers ice-cold, and puts a piece of dried fruit in his palm.

            “We’ll start with his eyes,” Shion says. “And try to make it as symmetric as possible. For Safu.”

            Like she really cares, Nezumi thinks, but instead he says, “Hey, maybe you should be wearing some gloves. Your hands are freezing.”

            “Oh. I hadn’t noticed.”

            “Hadn’t noticed? Jeez, what an airhead you are. Would you not notice yourself freezing to death unless I said so?”

            “Of course not. I was just…caught up in the moment.”

            “Don’t be so ‘caught up in the moment’ you get frostbite.”

            “We’re almost done. I’ll be fine.”

            Nezumi clicks his tongue. “Stubborn, this one.”

            “You seem like you’re in a worse mood than usual today,” Shion notes.

            Suddenly, without prompting, Safu’s voice enters Nezumi’s head then: Dummy. It would be easier if you had a better attitude.

“Who has fun out in the freezing cold like this?” Nezumi defends, jamming the apricot Shion gave him into the right side of the snowman’s face.

            Shion places the left eye on. Then starts putting the mouth pieces below. “It’s possible. But you have a point.”

            As Shion places the apricots on one by one, Nezumi can’t stop staring at his hands. As Shion places the last one, Nezumi reaches out, on impulse, automatically and without thinking, to grab Shion’s still-frozen hand.

            “Let’s go somewhere warmer,” he says, tightening his grip on Shion’s hand, “before the both of us start freezing to death.”

            Shion holds his gaze a moment before saying, “You really hate the cold, huh.”

            “Of course I hate the—” Nezumi starts. Almost sighs, doesn’t. “We finished the snowman, didn’t we? Let’s go somewhere else now.”

            Shion snaps a picture of the snowman on his phone with his free hand. For Safu, Nezumi thinks, finding it amusing that Shion was misinterpreting Safu’s interest in the snowman for interest in the thing itself, and not her interest in Shion. Though of course he thought that way. It was Shion.

            “If you’re cold, I know a place we can go that’s really warm,” Shion says, reciprocating Nezumi’s hand squeeze.

            Nezumi’s first instinct is to argue, to be the one to take the lead, choose the place, but he remembers his earlier sharp remarks, remembers Safu’s voice in his head, and he decides Shion can at least choose the place, and Nezumi could figure out what to do there, as long as they were out of the damp snow and frigid air.

            So he says, “Alright,” and Shion starts leading him away from the snowman, their hands still linked, slightly warmer than before.

***

            “And this one is a Golden Retriever—obviously, ‘cause its fur is gold—and this one is one of our warmest, a Bernese mountain dog, bred and raised in the Bernese mountains themselves—”

            Inukashi is going on and on about all their different dogs, proud, smug, Safu grinning, amused, by their side, Nezumi and Shion standing in their doorway, a crowd of dogs surrounding them, eager to greet the new guests. Shion is kneeling on the floor to pet some of the smaller puppies. Safu sits on the stairs with a Pomeranian in her lap. Nezumi is looking off to the side, nonplussed, his hands in his pockets.

            Inukashi is holding some light brown fluffy puppy, saying, “This is some mutt, not even Safu could tell, but she thinks it’s some kind of lab mix—”

            “Shion, we really had to come here? We just escaped them,” Nezumi says in a low tone.

            “There’s no place warmer than Inukashi’s,” Shion says, as one of the dogs Inukashi recently identified as a Chow Chow licks his face.

            “And this one—”

            “We’re just here to warm up,” Nezumi interrupts. “So if you would kindly show us your warmest, furriest pooch, that’d be great.”

            Inukashi, still excited over their newfound knowledge, ignores Nezumi’s rudeness and says, “That would be this ol’ boy,” patting a large, white and very fluffy dog. “He’s a Great Pyr—Great Pire?—Great—”

            “Pyrenees,” Safu helps.

            “Great Pyrenees!”

            “We’ll take him,” Nezumi says.

            “Then take him and go. You’re the one who interrupted us. Me and Princess Science were having a perfectly good time without you, you know.”

            Nezumi sees Safu blush slightly at the nickname, and he can’t help but be amused. For all her haughtiness and brainy-ness, there were times where she was strikingly girlish, and the book-smart rich kid melted away to reveal the normal teenage girl she was underneath. Shion was like that sometimes, too, rattling off complicated theories one second, caught up in something small and human the next.

            Safu catches him looking at her, and her expression changes from sheepish to annoyed. She looks like she wants to say, What are you doing here, anyway?

            Nezumi smirks, ignores Inukashi, turns back to Shion. “Shion, do you hear any yapping from a tiny, unruly pup?”

            Shion looks up, distracted, from the growing crowd of puppies at his feet. “What? No, all the puppies here are so well-behaved. I’m impressed!”

            Nezumi facepalms. Inukashi laughs.

            The Great Pyrenees, now in front of Nezumi, gives a low, soft, “Boof!”

            “The old man’s waiting on ya,” Inukashi says.

Without hesitation, Nezumi nods to the stairs, says, “Let’s go.”

            The old dog slowly leads them up the stairs, into the guest bedroom, used to the routine. He stops, looks back at them, and once they’ve entered the room, plops itself not on the soft mattress of the guest bed or the plump love seat in the corner, but on the floor.

            “Cheapskate.” Nezumi clicks his tongue. “Only one dog for two people, and it wants us to sit on the floor.”

            “Don’t complain. It’s better than being outside in the cold still, right?” Shion sits up against the wall on the floor by the dog, and the dog moves over to Shion and licks his hand, his face, then promptly sits on him. Then looks expectantly at Nezumi.

            Nezumi, still feeling stubborn, doesn’t want to sit on the floor, but quickly it dawns on him that they’re finally alone (not counting the dog), and even if the pup and Safu are in the same place, they’re downstairs  and away from them, and this is probably the closest they’re getting to alone time today.

            “Alright, old man, you don’t have to give me those puppy eyes.” Nezumi sits down next to Shion, and the dog adjusts itself so it’s now spread out on both of them, a cloud of cotton puff. Nezumi and Shion are shoulder to shoulder, Shion’s arm moving up against Nezumi’s as he pets the dog.

            “Petting dogs is relaxing. If you pet him, maybe it’ll help your bad mood. It’s scientifically proven.”

            “I’m so sure.”

            “It is.”

            “I’m not in a bad mood today,” Nezumi asserts. “This is my normal self.”

            “You’re usually grumpy, that’s true. But today you seem even grumpier.”

            “It’s that damn Inukashi’s fault. And Safu’s. Their stupid snowman trial.”

            “Like I said earlier, there’s nothing to be ashamed of—”

            “I’m not ashamed.” Nezumi sighs. Why was he in such a bad mood today? It was Inukashi and Safu’s antics, and layered beyond that, all the previous prodding from Safu about Shion, that Nezumi should be doing something more for him. Something like what? Something to meet her standards, her romantic ideal for Shion? What did she know, anyway? He thought she would give up once he and Shion got together, but ever the perfectionist, she seemed bent on making sure Shion was happy in the way she wanted. As if she could tell him what to do? Screw that. She can take her controlling, pretentious ideas and shove them—

            Suddenly, Nezumi felt something warm on his hand. It was Shion, taking his hand and bringing it to the dog’s fur. “Then relax. Pet a dog. We might as well enjoy it while we’re here.”

            Their hands joined again, Nezumi is brought back to the moment, here at Inukashi’s, under their dog, because Shion brought them here. Swept away from one thing to another, first in Safu and Inukashi’s plans, then Shion’s. So much for him taking the lead. His hand between the smoothness of Shion’s skin and the softness of the dog’s fur, he notices Shion’s hand is much warmer now, and relenting a bit, he’s glad they came here. After all, he wanted Shion warm, wanted them alone, and here they were, ready for Nezumi to finally do as he wished.

            So Nezumi slides his hand out from under Shion’s, gently lifts Shion’s fingertips with his own, kisses Shion’s knuckles. “As you wish.”

            Shion’s ears redden. The dog on top of them yawns, stretches, nods off to sleep. Silence lingers a few moments, and Nezumi begins to retract his hand, but Shion quickly grabs tight onto his fingers. Without words, they’re holding hands again, wrists resting on the dogs back, moving slightly with the dog’s steady breathing.

            Shion leans into Nezumi. Nezumi places a subtle, quick kiss onto Shion’s forehead. Then he says, “Next time, however, I want to be alone. Completely. Not even in the same house with someone else.”

            “No argument. But when we are with the others, try to at least be civil.”

            “No promises.”

            “Nezumi—”

            “Okay, okay. I’ll try. But only if they do.”

            Shion sighs. Rubs his thumb along Nezumi’s hand. Nezumi tenses slightly at the gentle motion, then lets himself relax. An innocuous gesture. An innocuous desire for civility. So simple, so silly, so breakable, vulnerable, fragile. Safu is in Nezumi’s head again, telling him to do more for Shion, telling him to have a better attitude. In this quietude, this warmth, with Shion idly resting beside him, his guard loosens, and he starts to think: she’s right.

            Not that Nezumi’s done anything wrong, exactly. But maybe Safu has a point.

            Because when Shion’s desires are simple, to make a snowman, for peace among loved ones, to relax and be together, maybe Nezumi can try to comply a little easier, without fighting everything first, without trying to escape.

            Muffled, he hears Inukashi’s raucous laughter downstairs, Safu’s Hey! followed by a few dogs barking excitedly. Here, in the guest room, tucked away from it all, shoulder to shoulder with Shion, Nezumi finally gives in.

            “Man, I’m beat,” he says. “This pooch really is warm. I could take a nap.”

            “You never take naps.”

            “True. But I wouldn’t mind staying here, until this guy wakes up.” Nezumi pauses. “Or…for as long as you want.”

            He waits for a response. Gets none. He looks to Shion, wondering if he’s said something strange—at the very least, he’s said something uncharacteristic.

            But Shion is asleep now, breathing steadily in time with the dog. Nezumi sighs.

            Oh well. Screw it, he thinks. Giving in, he closes his eyes, too, rests his head against Shion’s, letting himself relax into the warmth of the two sleeping bodies. Oh well…

#iwatch-theworld #flat-san #no6 #no 6 #no.6 #no. 6 #submission

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Take Two (part 7)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Part 8: here 

.

An energy surge pulses out from his chest and through his torso and limbs, banishing the exhaustion. Arthur feels the prickly sensation of static, reinvigorating his once heavy arms. In an instant, he transitions from utterly drained to painfully alert, like he's downed six cups of coffee and they've all hit at once. He snaps upright, twisting around, fanatically searching for somewhere to hide.

"They can't be here!" He exclaims in a panic, scrambling backward and away from the doors till he hits the front row of seats, "I'll hurt them!" A return to ethereal weightiness causes him to float up a few inches.  

Mystery tracks his movement unperturbed, /Do not be ridiculous. You have just spent the last half hour depleting any latent energy build up. This is the perfect time for a reunion./

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He flails, manoeuvring to remain right side up, "Because it has the opposite effect!"

Begrudgingly, in between the panic, he notes that Mystery is right about the energy depletion. The yellowed sparks of static are far weaker, being fuzzier and more dispersed. Not that that makes him any less alarmed. He shoots the dog what he hopes is an expression akin to reproach and resumes his search for an escape route. When Mystery had said that Arthur would be reuniting with Vivi and Lewis he had assumed it would be at a later date. Not right now.

"How do I get into this thing!" He taps a mechanical finger against the heat at his chest, ignoring the unease it invoked. Apart from sparking once it remained inert. Last time, his trip into the heart…anchor… had just sort of happened. How does one go about dematerialising themselves? He has no idea. Silently, Arthur curses his stupid ghost body with all its weird quirks.

Mystery, unaffected by his continued fretting, stands and trots to the back door.

/You may enter anytime you wish./ Mystery addresses the metal and Arthur assumes that he is projecting his voice to Vivi and Lewis on the other side.

Arthur gives up on the heart and all but throws himself into the van's front seat, ducking low, so he's lying horizontal and shielded from sight. On his back, staring up, he has a good view through the windshield, showing him a darkening night sky dotted with several brighter stars. He can also see the back end of the hospital and its office block. All the building's windows are dark.

The sound of the back door hinges squeaking open is loud and overly ominous.

"Mystery," He hears Vivi's bright laugh, "Your fur is all poofy. That's quite the look."

/A side effect when dealing with beings of the lightning persuasion. It will not be permanent./ Is the blunt response. For a long second, Arthur wishes he knew how to phase through things so he could sink into the seat's upholstery. Surely, as a ghost, that was something he could do.  

"But it's adorable…ouch… static shock." The van dips, taking on extra weight. There is the sound of shuffling, and the click of paws while Vivi and Mystery move about.

"Are those scorch marks?" A second, softer, deeper voice has all the static, which had been jumping sporadically about his face and shoulders, stilling, almost freezing in place. Lewis. Arthur doesn't need to see his former friend to know that the other man, alive and well, is peering into the van after Vivi, hesitant to follow due to his larger stature. It has been over two years since they've had a proper interaction, so he's understandably worried. Arthur doesn't consider saving Lewis in the cave or getting chased around by dead-vengeful-ghost-Lewis as a proper interaction.

/I believe I cautioned you to the possibility of environmental damage. Young spirits are often volatile./

Lewis responds with a weary, "Uh. Yeah. You did. I didn't think it would be this extensive." Arthur strains to hear more when Lewis's voice grows quiet towards the end of his sentence.

"Oh, don't worry about that. It'll buff out. Probably." Vivi's enthusiasm is vibrant, drowning out any hesitation.

An amused cough and Lewis is speaking again, “You’re not the one who swore on their favourite paring knife to look after the van.”

“Psh. Arthur was high on pain killers when you made that promise. He’ll be lucky if he remembers we were even there.”

The exchange is relaxed, natural and full of warmth. Arthur grips the heart at his chest, trying to ease the sudden tight sensation. A wave of cold regret radiates outwards, weighing on his mind and limbs. The static turns from a warmer yellow to a paler white colour in response to the emotional shift, like he’s some sort of human-shaped mood ring.

“So where is our new ghosty friend?” Vivi talks, still as animated as ever. Arthur is no longer paying attention, to preoccupied with the growing hollow numbness and a creeping sense of loss.

“Did you do that evaluation? What happened? What did you find out? Does Arthur have a mysterious twin, tragically dead, returned from the grave to reunite with his long-lost brother?”

An eager pause follows the question before Mystery snuffs out loud and responds,  /All is well. Our friend is present with us now./

A beat of silence.

“Maybe he’s invisible. Ghosts can go invisible, right?” Vivi mutters.

“Don’t look at me. I know even less than you.”

Arthur is not ready for Mystery’s head to pop up above him, appearing suddenly to stare down from over the seat divider. The unexpected action has him flinching back into the upholstery. A bolt of static jumps up but fizzles out on some invisible barrier before it can make contact.

The dog appears marginally apologetic for startling him, even as he points out, /I believe that was the queue to introduce yourself./ Arthur assumes, hopes, that Mystery is talking exclusively to him and that Vivi and Lewis can’t hear as well.  Mystery rests his front paws on the divider, ears pricked forward to catch Arthur’s hushed response.

“You planned this from the start,” He hisses, disliking that Mystery is forcing him into a situation that he definitely doesn’t feel ready for. Arthur is sick of this emotional roller-coaster and wants out.

/Of course I did./ Mystery replies testily, tilting his head to the side, /Believe me, letting emotions fester can have disastrous consequences for a ghost. Best to do this as soon as possible./

Arthur winces, grimacing, thoughts quickly turning to ghost Lewis. Fire. Death. Hate. Whatever expression he’s making, it must be pitiful because Mystery’s dark eyes grow sympathetic, like he’s seriously considering Arthur’s feelings.  

A second later, before Arthur can capitalise of Mystery’s new-found sympathy, Vivi’s face joins her dog’s, appearing suddenly above him. Openly curious, she freezes upon seeing him scrunched down into the front seat. Arthur, also freezing, stares back. 

Part 8: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #Vivi Yukino #Lewis pepper #arthur kingsmen #mystery the dog #ghost arthur #talking about stuff #angst

[artificialqueens]

12 Days of Sashea: Christmas Cookies- Mock-Star

12 Days of Sashea: Christmas Cookies- Mock-Star

Surprise! Your favorite mocker is back with some holiday themed drabbles! I want to submit 12 of these mini Sashea stories over the course of December, and I have ideas for most of them, but I will always welcome any ideas or prompts anyone has!

In other self-pluggy news: You can now find my fics at AO3 under the pin name MockStarAQ as well as on Tumblr, so you can read them in more than one place! On Tumblr, my main blog is @Mock-Star-AQ , so follow me there too!

To those who are getting ready for finals like myself, I wish you all the luck in the world, you’ve got this!

Until my next fic, I rest my case.

.

As talented as Sasha was, and she was very talented, she could NOT cook. But yet she loved to try. Shea would often find her in the kitchen staring at her latest attempt that was either badly disformed or burnt beyond the point of being eatable. She couldn’t even follow a recipe without it failing in some way. Which is why Shea was nervous when Sasha said she wanted to make Christmas cookies.

“I’m just in a baking mood! It’s the holiday season babe!” She said one snowy day when they were both going stir-crazy from staying inside.

“I know it’s the holiday season Sash, but remember what happened last time you were in a baking mood? I had to take a fire extinguisher to your angel food cake!” She said, already knowing where this was going, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Don’t remind me.” She groaned, slumping down next to her on the couch.

“It’s part of my job babe.” Shea replied, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her cheek. “Besides, I’m a good enough cook for the both of us.” Sasha turned towards her with a look of realization on her face, her mouth turning up into a smile.

“You are a good cook. And you can follow a recipe without it going to shit.” She said, smiling wider and wider. She suddenly sat on Shea’s lap, cupping her face while giving her a pout and puppy-dog eyes.

“Jer-Bear, will you please make cookies with me? Please?” She begged. “Think of how much fun it will be! We can be that cutesy couple people either love or hate!” She had a huge smile on her face, and she looked so excited at the prospect. Shea thought she looked so cute. Perhaps Sasha’s bad luck in the kitchen would be overridden by Shea being there, and it would be a lot of fun, it would give them something to do besides just sit there. And if she was being honest, she really wanted to boop frosting onto her nose.

“You sure know how to get what you want, don’t you?” Shea asked, resting her hands on her hips. Sasha smiled wider.

“Is that a yes?” She asked, sitting up straighter in excitement.

“Yes Zander, I’ll make cookies with you.” She said, smiling herself. Sasha grinned ear to ear and kissed her nose.

“Come on, lets goooo!!” She said, jumping up from Shea’s lap and pulling her into the kitchen, practically bouncing with joy.

“Go wash your hands.” Shea instructed her as she pulled out a binder of family recipes, finding a simple, yet delicious sugar cookie recipe that reminded her of her childhood.

“In a minute!” She called as she sprinted back into the living room. She came back with her phone and connected it to the speakers. Christmas music began playing, and Shea couldn’t help but smile.

“Now we’re ready.” Sasha grinned. She hugged Shea and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss her, and Shea cupped her head and pulled her in deeper.

“Seriously, wash your hands.” Shea said, pushing her away affectionately. Sasha walked towards the sink with a wink, swaying her hips seductively.

“I thought you wanted to make cookies. Keep that up and I might just decide I want cake instead.” She said, letting her eyes trail up and down her body. Sasha blushed as she washed her hands, Shea could see it travel to her entire head. She dried them on the towel and turned to Shea for instruction. Shea came up beside her and washed and dried her own hands, then pulled out a bowl and placed it on the counter.

She called out different ingredients that they needed, watching Sasha carefully to make sure she used the correct amounts. When it came time to mix the batter, Shea stood behind Sasha with the mixer, holding it together as they mixed it, making sure Sasha didn’t over mix it. They let the batter rest as they started on the frosting, Shea deciding on a simple one they could dye different colors. Sasha managed to find some cookie cutters in one of the drawers, so they rolled out the dough and cut the cookies into snowflakes and reindeer and stockings and placed them onto the baking tray, well, Shea placed them onto the tray, she didn’t trust Sasha to space them evenly. She placed them into the oven and set the timer, then turned around to see Sasha with a huge smile on her face.

“Thank you for doing this with me darling, I had so much fun.” She said, hugging her and resting her head on her shoulder. Shea wrapped her up tighter and kissed her forehead.

“I had fun too. In fact, I don’t wanna stop. You wanna try and make another kind of cookie?” She asked, grinning when Sasha’s head popped up.

“I would love to!” She said, becoming almost giddy. She went to the sink and began washing the bowl they used so they could use it again. Shea smiled at this and flipped through the binder to find another recipe, making a mental list of cookies to make next.

Several hours later, they had severely depleted their stash of milk, eggs, and butter, but they didn’t care, they had several dozen perfect cookies to make up for it. They were sitting at the table, decorating a final tray of cookies. The table was covered in sprinkles and frosting, and their hands were sticky. Shea watched Sasha, her attention was entirely on decorating her cookies perfectly, and Shea was reminded of how in love she was.

“I think we’re done.” Sasha said, sitting back and looking with pride on their handywork. They looked amazing.

“Almost.” Shea said. She dipped her finger into the remnants of the frosting and booped Sasha’s nose, giggling at the sight of it smeared on her skin and her affronted face. “Now we’re done.” She smiled, and Sasha smirked.

“Oh no, you don’t get off that easily.” She laughed as she dipped her hand into another bowl of frosting and rubbed it into Shea’s cheek. Shea grabbed her hand and sucked the frosting off her fingers, moving to her nose and sucking on it, licking off the frosting. They laughed as Shea reached for a napkin and wiped her face off. She pulled Sasha in for a soft kiss, grinning as she tasted sugar and memories on her lips.

“Happy holidays Zander.”

“Happy holidays Jer-Bear.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“Not this again! Why do you insist on saying that?”

“Because.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re ridiculous.”

“I know. You love me anyway.”

“I do, I love you so much. I absolutely adore you.”

“How about you let me adore those cakes of yours?”

“Oh my, you did have an ulterior motive to baking with me!”

“No, I wanted to bake with you, I just also really want your ass in bed.”

“I guess the cookies do need to cool and set for awhile….”

“They do.”

“And I guess we do need to find some way to kill some time…..”

“We do.”

“Hmmmmm. I guess I’ll go clean up so you can have some cake.”

“I’ll be salivating until then.”

Sasha leaned down and kissed her again before walking towards the bathroom, swaying her hips and sticking her ass out, giving Shea a show.

“I need to help Sasha cook more often.” She thought as she looked over their spoils, this night had been one of the best in a long time, and it was going to get so much better.

#sashea #12 days of sashea #fluff #sasha velour #shea coulee #rpdr fanfiction #mock star #canon compliant

[diaboliimperii]

he who, waits (8) / l.a

a/n: sorry for the LATE update ! please forgive me I have done no good for you guys, I suck sorry!

request here! // or in the blog description // hc’s and imagines! and everything in between

warning(s): language

pairing(s):  eventual!boyfriend! levi x reader, brother! impliedtwin! marco bott x reader, bestfriend/lover! jean kristein

word count: 3.1k

(So like on mobile I can’t tag my previous stories so just try to find the previous ones under the #rowenasfic tab or #rowena writes stuff. Or go to my master list! The rest of the other chapters do have the other chapters!)

Once Jean hit the glass of the headquarters more glass started shatter in front of him, he was seeing all of the familiar faces of his fellow cadets. He was relieved that Marco, and his squad made it. He was waiting, he was on edge. While looking at the faces he didn't see hers. Jean was looking around to see if she was going to show up anytime soon, but she didn't show any trace that she was going to show with the rest of the cadets. He was Marco, he was next to Jean the whole time complimenting him.

He didn't see her though, she left faster than everyone after Mikasa, yet she wasn't there. Maybe she was taking more time than usual. Did she run out of gas? He asked himself as he places a hand on his face while trying to find a possible explanation why she wasn't there. Marco was also looking if she was going to come sooner or later. "Where is Y/N?" Marco asks as Reiner does nothing but stare at the hysterical Jean. Reiner left Y/N to die, yet he did nothing but look at her boyfriend who was about to have a panic attack.

Jean looks up from his gaze on his hand and looks at the other people who were hiding under a desk. He asks questions, but since it was going out of hand he decides to punch him on the face. As he raises his foot to kick him, Marco takes his shoulders in his hands, and begins to consult him while pushing him back. While yelling someone yelled "Hit the deck!" And the faces were worried more than were a couple of seconds. The ground shook under their feet like a earthquake as they turned their head to see the face of titan on the side of the wall.

It has smelled from them afar. Marco let go of Jean as Jean started to curse. They all started to go further in the headquarters as Jean stood there thinking that one of those titans were successful with eating you at this point. He stood there in shook. "Y/N" was the word that was all over his head. "That liar!" He yelled. "Y/N you fucking liar! You said everything was going to be fine! But it's not! Fuck you! He said to the air, as it was the only thing he had to say.

He was in shock still that it was the last time that he saw the girl he fell in love, he was shocked that their last conversation was about his first kiss. Jean was regretting to not kiss her, in the moment. He regretting fighting with Eren in stead of listening to Y/N. He never knew it was going to end like this, and it was all because of him. Jean had messed it all up. It was all gone because of him. Her jumping off the roof was going to be the last time he ever saw her. He wanted more time with her in future, but it was all finished with her. Because of him.

Everything slowed down when he saw a fist of something hit the cheeks of the titans that were peeking in from the other side. He was on the other side of the vision and he was taken back from what he was seeing. It was a titan that had hit them with pitch black hair. It was a titan that he didn't see before. "Wha- Oh my god" Was al that came out of his mouth. Windows shattering made him look at the window. His hopes came up, but fell as just fast as they came back as he saw that it was everyone but Y/N. Connie was thanking that they made it time, but he didn't see Y/N anywhere.

"Where is Y/N?" He asked as they all looked at him. "We didn't see her. I thought she was already here seeing as she was going really fast." Connie replied to the worried jean in front of his face. Jean's face faltered more and more, and he was getting sadder by the moment. It was already confirmed in his head that she was gone, because he didn't keep an eye out to her. Connie then pointed out to the abnormal that had punched the titans before hand. He was explaining how it was fighting the titans and it didn't care.

Jean's world was already spinning thanks to the disappearance of Y/N with no clue nor trace of her being alive. And now an abnormal making it easy for them to go through? This was fucking up his head so much. He didn't know what to think at this moment of crisis. Now he was getting guns assembled to go down to try to fight off the titans. As they were assembling it, they were wondering why it came down to this. IF Y/N was here maybe he''d be smiling with her as she said something to make him smile. Maybe he's hold her hand one more time.

It was going to be different without her now, and he hated it. It was like he missed something, but it wasn't an object it was a person. How much of a coward he was because he let her out of his grip. It was like every time he saw Marco there would be something missing from the picture. It was her who was missing from the picture. Marco was also looking down. It was like when he didn't see come to the front of the window he had lost half of his soul.

His mood was depleting as the time came. He looked at Jean and he missed someone there making him to look at him. It was something that he missed, his mood had dropped down from his usual side as his twin of life hadn't showed up. Everyone around him noticed the most affected by her absence. Reiner and Bertolt looked at each other almost every time Jean and Marco looked at each other with sad eyes, and kept on doing their work. Her presence as much as it was irrelevant it was like there was someone with a strong personality missing.

"Captain!" Petra said to the man approaching her as she was tending to the injured. "I can't stop the bleeding." She said as her eyes were searching for the answer. "Captain." The injured man said in a frail voice. Levi took steps forward, and kneeled down to see the cadet face to face. "I'm here."

Levi looked at him with the same expression as anyone before him, "Did this make a difference? Was I helpful?" He asks him with a even weaker voice ringing in his ears. Weakly, he raised his arm with all the force he had left "Please, sir" He begged as it rose more. "I don't want to die without helping mankind." It was every soldiers dying wish to know they did something good and impactful to the mankind. Levi took his hand in one forceful strike. Levi looked at him dead in the eye. "You did a great job today, soldier."

He was now crying, the injured man as he knew these were the last moments in his life. Levi kept on talking to him, and he was listening since he knew that it would be a honor to hear the captain complimenting anyone before they died. "And you will keep doing it. Your strength won't die with you, the torch will carried on by me." Levi's eyebrows furrowed as a response to himself. "I swear this by my life. The titans will be eradicated!" He said in a louder tone than usual. "Captain." Petra said making Levi look away from his view. "He's dead." She said to hm as he looks at the body in front of him.

"Did the man hear what I said?" He asks as Petra looks at him. "Yes, sir. I think he heard it all. Look at him, that's a face of peace."  Petra said in between her soft spoken sobs. "We can hope." Levi said as his gaze goes to the ground, letting go of his hand and raising himself up from the position he had himself in. A voice boomed making him turn to the sound. It was Commander Erwin with the rest of his squad behind him. "We're pulling out." He told the Captain. "What do you mean?" Levi asks as he looks at his direction.

"You damn well know we can push farther." Levi lowers his gaze, "My men didn't die to pave our retreat!" He exclaims to him. Erwin looks down on him. There's a swarm of titans moving north bearing down the city." Erwin's words sting as both Levi and Petra move backward in their stance. "It's just like 5 years ago." Erwin tells the group as he turns the other way. "Something's happening to the city." Suddenly a soldier next to him clears his throat. Erwin gets reminded of what he was missing.

"We also found a cadet from the 104th training corps unconscious out on the ground. She has been dispatched to the hospital, but she seems to be in critical state. We think it's Y/N Bott..."

-

Levi's heart was hurting to know that Y/N is in critical condition. Why was he hurting the way he was when Y/N was just another cadet. His heart was pounding and it wasn't a good pound. He knew that she was just another asset to his life and sure, she spent more time than the usual soldier, but in the end she was just another. But, if she truly was another person why did his head start spinning and his heart start diving deeply? He suddenly wanted to see her again, to see if she truly was in critical condition.

Levi was preoccupied with how she was that he didn't realize that the day went on so quickly. It seemed like every time he hard her name, looked at her, or even spent time with her. Time would become slow and break apart to smaller fragments. Levi knew thinking that would make him crazy, but maybe that's what he liked about her.

Making him crazy.

He knew that he was a viable part in her life, but she didn't know is that she was also a viable part to his life that he never wanted to admit to. It was her who he would think about some nights where he would miss her presence entirely. Like always, he would never admit this. He would never come to the facts that she was something else in his life that was 't irrelevant like the rest of the things that swirled among him. 

He would visit her every day, Levi would see her lifeless body begin to wither as the days went without her getting the proper nutrition. He could notice that her body was fighting for her will to live, and it bothered him that he couldn't do anything about it. He was cornered by the person who dared to stare him in the eyes. The captain wanted to do something, but with his limited time he knew he couldn't fulfil anything that was necessary for her to come back from the coma-state she put herself. 

Jean also was growing more mad as the days went. Once he found out that she was transported to the hospital, he went to find her immediately. The girl that was courageous enough to head out, and make sure the titans didn't get in the way was now in the hospital, and he blamed himself. He wanted to make sure he would see the day that she retorts at him one more time. He wanted to see the day where she would hold hands with him again. Jean wished that she would be there to steal his first kiss before anyone else. He wanted to be happy. With her. Jean was making sure that he would visit her again to see if she would wake up when he was there for his 1 hour of visit. 

Unlike Levi, who would write down the things that happened that day to show Y/N when she wakes up, Jean talks to her, and holds her lifeless hand with one swift move. Jean would express how much he missed her with so much love lacing his words. Jean would come tired from his day of training, and he would miss out on seeing her, and would regret it immediately. But, unlike Jean, Levi never missed out on a day to see her. He would always find a way to come even if it was for 1 second or for hours. He would always be there to see her on the bed, with a neutral tone on her face. 

Flash. 

It all came down crashing, when levi heard that the military had some very compelling evidence that Y/N could be one of the abnormal titans that put down the wall in the first place or could be affiliated with who was behind it. Now that Eren showed that he was a titan-shifter, the public was questioning her. It was a domino effect happening right in his eyes. Eren is now considered a titan-shifter, and many of the cadets among her training class began to wonder if she was too.

 It was when Reiner brought up some compelling information about her disappearing when the worst times for the cadets seem to appear. He and Bertolt made some her seem like she was affiliated with the attack, and because it was Reiner who said it, it became popular with the people in the dorms to talk about. 

"Reiner, made some pretty good facts that she could be with the attacks, and that's why she'll be in the courtroom with Eren, she'll be tried too." Commander Erwin told Levi as Erwin sat as his desk while telling the frustrated Levi the situation. "Are you shitting me?" Levi's voice rings in the office of the commander.

"She's an idiot, she can be cocky, she's stupid as hell, she's annoying, she's obnoxious, she's arrogant, but she is not, I say, not whatever you're making her out to be, Erwin." 

Erwin looks at how distressed Levi is at his comment about the Cadet he knows not too much about, he notices how he jumped on the defensive side as soon as he finished his sentence, and how cautious he was with his words. Erwin wondered why he was acting so selfish with a cadet who was under him. Levi sighed as he ran ah nad through his hair. "I'm done here." He shifted his weight on the chair in front of the desk where Commander Erwin sat in. He stood up with in one swift move. Levi made eye contact with blue ones who were confused with his actions. 

Turning away with one motion that was fast and done with a mere second he moved on to the other side of the room with his feet taking him to the door to leave the Commander who had the audacity to accuse the girl he now knew better than anyone else that wasn't Marco or Jean. His hand touched the knob, and turned it only slightly with his hand moving the door open so he slip through and leave with ease. Erwin was still puzzled with how he was acting. Levi never acted out, and he usually agreed with everything Erwin said, but this time it was the polar opposite. 

He had already visited for the day, so he began to make it to his office. He walked making sure that he wouldn't run into anyone else to make him blow a fuse. As he name it to the door of his actual office, the one that was for him, and not one he used to observe the cadets in the 104th corps. The door opened with his force, and he moved in to sit down on the couch type place where she would lay down sometimes. 

"Shitty brat." 

He told the air, as he remembered that in a day she would be tried as a human if she woke up, but if she didn't she'd be tried as a dead person. He stood up, and began to walk to the desk to pull out the journal to write about another day that she missed due to her carelessness. His hand made it to the bind of the journal, and his fingers began to swipe to find the page that was available for him use. He found a blank page, with nothing written on it as he found his ink and his quill. When he wrote in the journal he didn't sit down on his desk. He sat where she sat down when he made her paperwork, and it made him express himself so freely, he understood why Y/N picked the spot. 

Day XX 

If you're reading this you're still asleep in a coma state, like the idiot you are for getting yourself in this situation. Nothing important happened except for the fact that when I was doing paperwork there wasn't a brat there to bother me to help me. There was something that made me blink twice. Someone delivered me a pendant that was green and purple, and a ring that was red and blue. They said that it was to be delivered to me to deliver it someone, but they didn't say who. The pendant looks like a 3 year old made it, and it looks dirty, but I tried cleaning it and it wouldn't work. I wonder if you know who this is, because I noticed you have one like it, but the opposite colors. Other than that it looks like someone professional made it from yours but not this one. It looks horrible, and it made me think about your brother again. I heard the news about his death too. I didn't know him as a cadet as much as you, but it reminded me that you're going to wake up with a dead brother. Marco died with honor, and pride, and loyalty under his belt, Bott. You should be honored that he was your sibling. As much as a shitty person you are, he was a lot like you like I hear. But enough of that sad bullshit. 

Another thing is that you're going to get tried to be associated with the wall attack, and I have no power to stop it. Erwin, told me a couple of minutes ago, and there is nothing that he could do something about it. Eren is also getting a trial in his favor for being such a brat. It's happening tomorrow, and awake or not you're going to have the trial. You're so fucking screwed, and it's your fault. 

Just wake up, Y/N.

#jean aot imagines #jean krischtein x reader #levi aot imagines #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman imagines #levi rivaille x reader #levi rivaille imagine #levi aot #aot imagines #aot #jean aot #aot levi #eren jeager #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager aot #eren jaeger imagines #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa ackerman #rowenas fic #rowena writes stuff

[foxyandpet-blog]

A Sick, Twisted Tale of Love and Devotion

Instead of enjoying her Saturday, she spent it playing catch up. God, she hated cleaning house. Hated it. She especially hated cleaning the bathroom. Mold and mildew were the bane of her existence. Ten to twelve hour work days left her beyond depleted, so the last fucking thing she wanted to do when she got home was cook and clean. All she wanted to do was kick off her shoes, put on her pajamas and indulge in a glass of wine (or two) and Netflix it, but she ignored her household chores for way too long this time. She'd need a fucking chisel to get rid of those fucking hard water spots. Fuck.

She lugged the laundry basket into the laundry room, heaved it on top of the dryer, and began tossing Josh's clothes into the washer. He was nineteen, almost twenty years old, and home for summer break. He really should be doing his own fucking laundry. He should be home cleaning his disaster of a room. She inspected a pair of his threadbare boxer briefs. God. Is this... shit? Yep. It was a skid mark alright. Goddammit. Doesn't he know how to wipe his ass already? Instead of tossing the briefs into the washing machine, she flung them into the garbage. Note to self: buy Josh new underwear.

He was away for the weekend and she was actually kinda thrilled about it. She loved her son something fierce, but she desperately needed some alone time. She'd gotten used to having the house all to herself. Ever since her cheating, lying, son-of-a-bitch husband left her two years ago for that fucking cunt whore who worked the morning shift at Starbucks, Josh had become rather protective of her. Shit, he was downright devoted to her. It made sense, though. She did kinda lose it for awhile. Had a hard time getting out of bed some mornings. She was broken and didn't know how to fix herself. Without asking for his help, Josh cooked for her, drew baths for her, picked up all those snotty discarded tissues that littered her bedroom floor, opened that second bottle of wine. Yeah, okay. So what if he sucks at wiping his ass? He was an all-around good kid.

Once she began feeling like herself again, she encouraged Josh to go out, to spend time with his friends, do anything but hang out with his middle-aged mom. I like being home with you, mom. You're fun. She supposed she should feel grateful. Most boys his age wanted nothing to do with their mothers, and here she was, always pushing him out the door.

She had to admit, he was a damn good looking kid. From the bridge of the nose down, Josh looked like her. Slightly crooked grin, dimples, full lips, but he had his father's eyes. Dark, penetrating eyes. Eyes that said everything. The very same eyes that seduced her the night she and some of her girlfriends drunkenly stumbled into that Irish pub. That fucking bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing. He slayed her with his quick humor and wit. Verbal sparring always got her wet.

She sprayed some stain remover on Josh's favorite t-shirt. He'd grown six inches the summer before he left for his first year of college so he towered over her now. His once concave chest had filled out quite nicely... among other things.

She blushed just thinking about how she accidentally saw him partially naked late one night. She'd heard rustling and clanking noises and arrived in the kitchen to discover Josh, an occasional sleepwalker, staring blankly into the fridge. He was wearing the same t-shirt she held in her hands now, only he was naked from the waist down and he had a raging hard on. Flustered, she let out an audible gasp and quickly averted her eyes. She couldn't help herself, though. She had to sneak another peek. Clearly, his eyes weren't the only things he'd inherited from his father. She quietly backed out of the kitchen. He'd never even noticed she had come into the room.

She'd left the kitchen and went back to bed, where she lay watching the ceiling fan. Every time she closed her eyes she saw it. Try as she might, she could not get the image of her son's erection out of her head. The more she tried not to think about it, the more she thought about it. God, it was beautiful. A solid eight inches.... Oh, my God. Stop it! When Josh shuffled into the kitchen the following morning, she couldn't look him in the eye. She felt her cheeks flush and she had to turn away. She never said a word to him about it.

When he came home for Thanksgiving, his cell phone blew up. Girls. Occasionally, she'd catch his side of the conversation, which sounded more like bored, disinterested mumbling than proper articulation. Hey, why don't you take one of those girls to the movies, or something? Go, have some fun. You know, be with the young people.

"They're not my type.... besides," he'd grinned. "I have a thing for the old people."

She began to wonder, though. What was his type was, exactly? Now that she really thought about it, Josh didn't really seem interested in girls much at all. Could he be... gay? Yes! That's it! Maybe he's gay! She'd be down with that. Wouldn't make any difference to her. He could still get married. Plus, gays had babies, too, didn't they? She could still be a grandma one day, right?

She pulled his jeans out of the basket and turned the pockets. Rubber band. Gum wrapper. A nickel. Then she turned the other pocket. She held in her hand a pair of women's black, lace panties. Oh, thank God. He's not gay! Wait a minute.... whose panties are these? Shit. This means he's probably having sex. Please tell me he's having safe sex. Oh, dear God, please. Let him be having safe sex. Shit. When did he start having sex and with whom... and where? He never once, to her knowledge, ever brought a girl home.

Okay, so her son isn't gay, but what to do with these panties? Wash them and put them back in his pocket as if she'd never seen them? Take a parental moment to have an open conversation with her son about sex? She recalled the whole birds and bees conversation they'd had when he was in second grade, after he asked about how babies were made. She smiled, remembering his rather disgusted response to her fairly clinical explanation. You and dad did that? She was fairly certain they'd not talked about sex since then, which meant he was probably getting all his information from the internet. Ugh.

She pinched the panties between her thumbs and index fingers and held them up in front of her. They were awfully pretty. They certainly weren't the kind of panties she imagined college girls wearing, but maybe she was wrong. Girls were so much more sophisticated these days. La Perla. Huh. Since when did college coeds spend $150 on a pair of panties? She noticed that the label was hanging on by a thread. There was something slightly familiar about these panties. Holy shit! They were her panties.

Suddenly, she felt weak. She leaned against the washing machine and slowly slid to the floor, her mind reeling. It all came flooding back to her. Last summer, she'd had a third date with some smug, pasty faced guy she'd met on OKCupid. He was a total idiot; a Luddite, really, with his flip-phone and tube television and VCR. That she didn't find him the least bit attractive didn't matter. She was just so fucking horny. She had to fuck someone, anyone, and at that moment, he was it. She'd already had a couple glasses of wine and an edible to take the edge off. Hmmmmm. Maybe I'll ramp it up a bit and wear the sexiest pair of panties I own. Yeah, that'll help get me in the mood.

She rummaged through her drawer. They were nowhere to be found, her La Perla panties. Shit. She was 99.9% certain she hadn't worn them. In fact, she knew she hadn't worn them because she only ever trotted them out for special occasions and she hadn't had one of those in forever. She checked every drawer, the clothes hamper, under the bed. Nada. The doorbell rang. Fuck. She grabbed a basic pair of Victoria's Secret panties and yelled for Josh to invite the idiot in.

When she came into the living room, she found her date and Josh sitting in tense, awkward silence. Her date stood as soon as he saw her. Was it her, or had Josh been glaring menacingly at this guy? She felt a sudden surge of warmth. Awww. He was still protecting mom. She smiled and went to muss his hair, but he backed away. She didn't make a fuss about it and made a mental note to touch base with him later, since apparently, he seemed upset.

She'd crept in at 4am. The house was silent. She'd paused at Josh's door. She thought about her date. The worst sex she'd ever had in her life. His pencil dick was utterly useless, as was his tongue. Suddenly, her son's turgid cock flashed in her mind's eye in all its full technicolor glory. She was mortified. Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with me?

She crumpled the panties in her hand. It all made some kind of crazy sense to her now. Is that why he was so upset that night? Because I had a date? Did he somehow know I was going to fuck that guy? Surely he didn't think I'd never date anyone? Is this why he always wants to hang out at home? Horror gripped her. Am I... his... type?

How long she sat there on the laundry room floor she didn't know. Semi-darkness settled in around her. She heaved herself up and left the laundry where it was and poured herself a generous glass of wine, panties still in hand. She emptied the entire glass in about thirty seconds and then poured herself another and wandered off to her bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed. She knew she'd have to confront Josh about this. She couldn't just ignore this one, or should she? If these panties belonged to some random girl, that'd be one thing, but they belonged to her, which means, at some point, he'd gone through her drawers and intentionally took them. She imagined he probably found them buried at the bottom and figured she'd never notice they were missing. How would he have any idea they were the only pair of LaPerla panties she owned?

She went around the bed and arranged herself against the pillows. As she bent her knees, the bottom of the long t-shirt she was wearing slid down her thighs toward her crotch, exposing her basic black, cotton bikini underwear. For some reason, she brought the lace panties up to her face and inhaled. They still smelled like... cum. Holy fuck. She felt dizzy, but it wasn't due to the wine. She closed her eyes.

There was no denying it. She was wet. Dripping fucking wet. She imagined his sweet, youthful cock. The skin of it was so smooth, so flawless. She felt that familiar ache deep inside her pussy. No! This is twisted. Beyond perverted.

Her body writhed, her pussy ached, and before too long, she began touching herself. God, it felt good. She imagined Josh going down on her, bringing her close to the brink and then pulling out and fucking her. Hard. She came in full body spasms. Sweet, sweet release. It was short lived, though. Shame welled up inside her and she began to sob.

“Mom?”

She bolted upright. How long had he been standing in there? God damn it, why had she not closed the fucking door? Her cheeks flushed. Suddenly furious, she flung her panties toward him.

“Get out!”

He quickly retreated and she curled into a little ball and cried herself to sleep.

A pleasant aroma woke her. What is that... pancakes? Sometime during the night Josh had covered her with a blanket. God. Shame flooded her entire being. How the fuck was she going to face him? How much had he seen? God. She threw off the blanket and went into her bathroom and closed the door. Her pee smelled like watered down chardonnay. She confronted her reflection in the mirror. She looked like shit. She half-heartedly washed her face and brushed her teeth. Then she slipped her bulkiest terrycloth robe over her t-shirt.

Sheepish, embarrassed, and flush faced, she padded into the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

He handed her a mug of coffee. She fumbled to find words.

“You made pancakes...” She wasn't the least bit hungry, though. She felt nauseated. “Josh, I'm... “

“It's okay, mom.”

That's when she noticed it. Morning wood tenting his boxer briefs and he wasn't even trying to hide it! She quickly turned her back to him. She gazed out the window. The hot pink bougainvillea was in full bloom. Without warning he was suddenly pressed up against her. She could feel his hard on despite the thickness of her robe. Her coffee mug slipped out of her hand and broke in three pieces in the sink. Her body shook uncontrollably. Her knees buckled.

“Josh...”

He moved her hair to one side and bit her on the back of her neck. Her skin erupted into thousands of tiny goosebumps. And there he was. Rock solid. He slid off her robe and let it fall to the floor. She just stood there and let him do it. That ache in her pussy returned. She reached behind and grabbed his cock and squeezed. He let out low moan. She spun around to face him. Those fucking eyes of his.

For a few moments, they eyed each other like ravenous animals about to go in for the kill. Her chest heaved. His heart beat a thousand miles an hour. All sense of space and time disappeared, but for the sound of their breath. A surge of primal energy kicked in. He hoisted her onto the counter. She leaned back and spread her legs to receive him and he filled that aching, empty space in her pussy. It was glorious and she was liberated by his devotion.

[pass3rby]

Caught By Your Past

25th Part

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Pairing: Altair x Malik Warnings: modern AU, mature, OOC, original female character; unbetaed.

A/N: Good morning, San Francisco (or any other city of your choice for that matter)! Let's kick the day up, shall we?

She was on her way back home from campus when her phone went off. Having to fish it out of the tangle in her bag – USB cable, flash disc, second one, tissues, earbuds, lipstick – almost made her regret her habit of towing around the whole tech station and then some. Almost. She stumbled across her phone soon enough and the thoughts of getting rid of all those things first thing after stepping over the flat's threshold, disappeared again.

Checking the display, she gave a dejected sigh before accepting the call.

“Yeah?” So maybe her tone held a bit of a fake cheer, but there was no need to ruin someone else's mood, was there.

“There's this place I've heard is pretty rad!”

She figured as much; an eagerness to check out new places was a well-known trait of her friend. Trademark, barely restrained excitement in Mary's voice hit her full blast and really, was she ever void of energy? Gie was yet to see her anywhere near depleted. It would feel so good to talk with someone of a similar exhaustion level to her own. Maybe she could call Evie... Jacob's a pain in his sister's ass, too. That might work.

“Enjoy,” keeping up with the current conversation, she went with a sudden spur of a moment and entered a convenience store she was about to pass by. Time to treat herself; who knows how it'll look at home when she gets there. While choosing a thoroughly inappropriate late snack, she might as well listen to Mary, gushing over this new hot spot.

With luck, she only wanted to spill the beans and details about the new place and that would be the end of it. Gie was out for count as it was, just happy to drag herself to bed. Normally, she would welcome an opportunity to go out, but the constant hot & cold vibes coming from an unnamed pair of lost cases was starting to take its toll on her. Just as she was leaving for today's lessons, she heard them yelling again. And although staying out would keep her away from that for a little bit, she was ripe for a generous hibernation, not an evening out.

“You have to come with us!”

So, Mary was gathering a crew for the night out. Gie went with a neutral response, while absentmindedly checking one of the apples on sale:

“Sounds amazing-”

“I thought so, too! Pretty sweet. It's in a nice part of the city, too. Kinda dingy street, but it's not like we're gonna get jumped there.” True social life enthusiast that her classmate was, her mouth went two hundred miles per hour already, not even waiting for the explanative part of Gie's negative response. Also, no to that apple. Neither unhealthy, nor with enough chocolate percentage in it.

Tough luck today, buddy.

Skirting the whole fruit & vegetables section, she dived further to the more sin enabling and supplying section of the store.

“Altair and Malik are at each other's throat again.” There. At least she could make use of Mary knowing about the situation. Saves loads of time otherwise spent by a lengthy explanation. Maybe she won't even need to ring Evie up, after all.

Her friend, being a trooper, jumped promptly over onto the new topic like a pro.

“Thought you said neither of them is Spanish. Or French.”

“They're not, smartass,” and that chocolate looked tempting. She wasn't going to lower herself to buying an ice cream bucket, but that extra large hazelnut milk chocolate bar had her name on its wrapping. “You met them both to know that yourself.”

“So what's the deal?” Mary's voice was intent on the topic, fully focused like she always was with everything she decided to participate in. A good friend although and at the same time because of her brazen attitude, right there.

Okay, chocolate. You're coming with me. Do not resist and I won't be forced to use handcuffs on you.

Apprehending the criminal, she turned on her heel to go fetch something to drink, too – before re-turning around to grab a second bar. Just in case.

“I don't know. I mean, they are sorta... all-or-nothing kind of deal?”

“So, they either fuck or hate each other.” The words coming from the phone stayed true to its owner's spirit – no beating around the bush, they mowed the topic right over.

A vivid memory of mum threatening to wash her mouth with soap whenever she 'slipped', popped up in her mind. Mary wouldn't've last one day visit at their house without frothing at the mouth – one way or another. Funny thought right there.

“Pretty much. Without the-”

“-fucking. Yadda yadda yadda. I don't know if I should laugh at your brother or rethink my gender and step between them and wait which one would grab my ass first.”

“Mary!”

“What? They're attractive! Ten out of ten would tap that.”

Most of her friends did not miss the opportunity to tell her how dumb she was to let Altair go when their pack of she wolves was out last Friday. Mary'd just shrugged. 'Well at least you're out of competition if the guys ever changed their mind' – that're her exact words. While at least one of the girls would mean them, the free-spirited drinker had been quite obviously taking the piss. Like right now. Tough empathy – that's what Gie called it; Mary was the best.

Mood getting back on its feet, having shaken off the gloom, Georgie chuckled wryly and joined in the game.

“You'd stand no chance anyway. They wouldn't even notice you there.”

“That bad?”

“Their eyes are boning each other constantly, only their bodies resist the pull.” Now, that was a relief to say it out loud. Gie picked up a flavored green iced tea out of a refrigerator before making a bee-line to the cashier.

“Mindfucked too much?” It was hard to tell whether Mary was home already or not. While such generous use of foul language would usually point you somewhere 'safe to express yourself' if not in the home base direction outright, Mary was known to drop an F-bombs on a daily basis wherever. In the middle of the class wouldn't be her first time either. She lived closer to the campus, though.

“More like not enough.” Putting the handpicked items onto an empty space next to the register, she greeted the employee before refocusing back on Mary. Her answer must've betray a part of her previous dejected mood, because the response was instant and spot on.

“Damn. You're not coming, are you.”

“Not feeling it, I'm sorry.” There was no denying that she felt better now, but she'd still prefer to stay home tonight.

“Alright,” Her phone transported a heavily put-upon sigh right to her ear, “You're excused this once. If they drag you into their depressive circle of hell, though, I'm gonna come haunt their asses.” Fierce friends had certain perks.

“Or hunt.” Gie shot back good naturedly as she was getting through the payment procedure. That going off without a hitch, she was out of the store in no time.

“What do you know. It could bring the same results.”

“Despair?” It would be hard to miss her snicker. The door of the store closed behind her and she got back on her track leading home with renewed vigor, failsafe mechanism safely tucked in her bag.

“Ha ha. That's what I get for caring about you.”

But when the phone call ended ten minutes later, she wondered whether Mary will have to be taken up on her offer, if it'll really come to that. Will there be silence when she gets home? What sort of scene will greet her?[P1]  To make the suddenly reinstated warzone even worse, the pair of undecisive fools was getting along pretty fine as of late.

Did Thor hit them with his hammer over their heads or something?

Now, arguments and bickering were a part of any relationship. Clashes were either handled or not and that was it; a 'make it or break it' sort of deal basically and again, a pretty standard one at that. These two? They had brought the art of disputes to a whole another level by the sheer amount of practice in pair. What was left there to argue about, though? She could swear that they've argued even about the water pressure in the shower already.

Taking a step back, maybe there was no need for them to make it official at all. They fought like a couple already, so there was a good chance that they had the partner software for encouraging staying together installed, too. But maybe not.

Them being as they are? Holding onto the remnants of their wild card statuses while also leaning over toward the other? It could bring literally anything. As of now, chaos and strangling of one another would be her bet on the most probable outcome, no matter what she really hoped for.

What truly boggled her mind was that the 'wild card' issue was more of Malik's signature there than Altair's. Sounding strange? Maybe because it was. If anything, you could always count on Malik being solid. As on him being a silent snide sniper. His words got the kill while his face might as well been cut from marble. That was his nature and it came with an objectively calm demeanor. All of that, her brother might rightfully pride himself for, because he perfected every single part of it to a state of art. Throwing him off, not to mention making his wall of tranquility crumble to dust wasn't an easy achievement.

Then Altair entered – or re-entered – the picture, turning out to be an equivalent to the proverbial fairy with a magical wand. 'Unusual' wouldn't even make the cut for an appropriate description of how out of character this was for her brother and still, the facts stood.

Not that she hadn't wondered about the strange enigma before; it only wasn't as important then as many other aspects that needed to be accounted for. But maybe it should have been. Altair's presence was undeniably toying with Malik on a full scale, so it was safe to assume that their whole relationship must've been even more complicated, elaborate or not, than she anticipated – and she gave a lot of room to possible variations of their history.

What was so bad about Altair that kept Malik doubtful?

Their personalities clashing could hardly be the reason – it obviously didn't matter even back in their heydays. Was he still hung up on the fact that she and Altair together were the plan A and the reason why the guy was here in the first place? Her brother could, indeed, hold a grudge. Was it the job? If so, then... Okay, it wasn't a traditional nine-to-five job where you are safely tucked in an office, she'd give Malik that. But Gie saw them together; this hesitating and dancing around each other would make sense only if they did not feel as strongly about each other anymore. To that, she called bullshit. She'd probably do the best to ask Altair about that when the soonest opportunity arises.

Using the key to their flat, she unlocked the door and nudged it ajar.

No sound.

Promising enough. Entering the flat, she put her bag on the bench right by the door.

Altair was passed out, half-lying behind the living room's low table, half-propped up on her beanbag in a position that suggested something was missing in the picture. The flat screen was still on, although only some commercial nonsense on low volume was taking up the screen there.

Before she could investigate the crime scene any further, different kind of muted noises caught her attention. They were coming from the direction corresponding with only one room in the apartment. That answered the question of where Malik disappeared to. Taking one deep breath for courage, she walked over to the kitchen.

“Hey.” Her greeting was on a cautious side of the spectrum, but nobody could blame her.

“Hey yourself,” Malik answered in kind readily enough if a bit distracted. Scanning what must've been instructions on a box of something presumably eventually edible, his attention taking its sweet time to shift onto her. Not that she minded; this wasn't bad compared to any kind of confrontation. She'd had it up to here of that.

“Coffee?” The offhand offer made its way to her, while Malik's eyes flicked back and forth between her and what appeared to be an instant version of Rubik's cube to him. An already made batch of coffee was the current main star of the kitchen counter. Steam coming from it declared that the beverage was fresh, too.

“Uh... I'll probably go with just tea? Thanks, though.” Perking up at that, he decidedly put the package back in the pantry, obviously finding the required amount of effort overly too much to bother with. It would also be Malik's attitude to food in general in a nutshell.

She was about to go over and set necessary things up to fix herself a cup, but Malik was one step ahead of her.

“The tests weren't bad then?” She watched as her brother proceeded to put water in the electric kettle before switching the thing on.

Oh.

“They were fine.” Since she had to wait for the water to boil, it was only sound logic to plop down on a chair – which was exactly what she did.

“Were they.”

“Stop it, you moron, you're not my parent.” Reminding him her adult status was a moot point now, but she did it anyway. Meanwhile, Malik poured himself a mugful of the steamy, tar black liquid, completely unperturbed.

“Look at the good news. The day's just gotten better for the both of us.” For all intents and purposes, his expectant look was interchangeable with the one of a hawk stalking its prey. She grudgingly conceded only because there was no other easy way of getting from under that type of scrutiny.

“I may not ace them both, but it wasn't as terrible as I expected. Professor de Sable took ill and our tests will be marked by a substitute teacher, so there's no way I'll get a bad mark on that one either.”

The nightmarish teacher had been picking on her ever since her first year of taking the course. She couldn't help but secretly think of his illness as a gift from above.

“I though you said you got a different lecturer already?” If Gie was ten years younger, she'd probably appreciate his brotherly frown much more. As it was, she could handle one numskull without any additional help.

“False alarm. That would be that substitute I've mentioned. Looks like the baldhead doesn't know when to-” Sensing warning in the air, she promptly changed the intended ending of her sentence:

“-leave the scene,” which was closely followed by a quietly mumbled “or kick the bucket” original version.

“You were saying?”

“I said that he apparently must've dig his heels in somehow.” Gie blatantly lied without an ounce of shame in her body.

The good thing about being raised into adulthood by a strict brother? He was still way more lenient than their parents would be. She held no hope of her brother believing that's what she really said, but he let her be anyway, because Malik himself thought that the guy was an asshole. But even better than that; any 'tight spots' like this one trained her in the façade game that Malik was a master of, too.

When he wanted to be, that is. Looking at him taking the box full of teabags in his hand, nose wrinkling in disgust, one wouldn't believe such a claim. If Malik could, he would hold that box like a bag full of dog presents, no doubt. Dork.

“Sheesh, you're a riot. Give me that,” Getting back on her feet, she stole the box which was offending her brother's sensibilities out of his grasp and fished out one teabag before storing the rest back in the cupboard. Right on time, the kettle switched off, too, so she threw the teabag inside an empty mug that Malik had left on the counter for that purpose exactly and poured hot over it straight away. Brimming with satisfaction, she looked over at Malik, who still did not bother to regain his stony decorum. As much as he was furrowing his brows, though, he was in a casual, laid-back mood.

“You should stop.” Still, his voice was as gruff as always. His nod towards her drink said all there was needed to decipher what he was referring to. She nonchalantly ignored the clue, pretending ignorance.

“With what?” She intentionally gave Malik an innocent look.

“Drinking that garbage.” As if she did not see that coming. The deadpan nag made her snicker for its utter uselessness. They had gone over this one thousand times already and yet, somehow, Malik never seemed to tire of it.

“You should stop,” she shot back to exact her revenge.

“With what?” Humoring her, he went along with the game, striking the familiar pose which included folded arms on his chest. His eyes were soft, though; contrary to their hard shine whenever adapting the posture in a serious conflict.

He probably expected her to say something along the lines of “nagging me about the tea” and to be fair, nobody could blame him for it since that was exactly what she wanted to go with. Initially. But a single, no matter how short, moment to rethink the opportunity was all it took to decide on a change. Biting on her lower lip, she went for it.

“Being so stubborn.” And she might as well ask for a sky to lean down and hand over some of its stars to her while she was at it. Honestly, Gie was well-aware of how her words sounded. But demanding an all-out annihilation of the character trait wasn't the point here. Therefore, she clarified:

“Why do you guys argue so much – really?”

Fully prepared to see him withdrawing into himself and closing off again, she faced a distinctly different reaction. While Malik was fast to catch onto what she was talking about, he showed no sign of being displeased with the topic.

“I argue with idiots in general. That's my job. I thought you already knew that.” Even busy with removing the teabag out of her mug after taking a careful, evaluating sip, it didn't stop her from pointing the obvious, encouraged by his response:

“Yeah, but not like you do with Altair...” It was much easier to continue pursuing the matter with his open attitude and his trademark scowl on vacation.

At last noticing that the issue was really troubling her, his blasé vibe evaporated out of the room. Sh- shrooms in a meadow. Counting her chickens way too soon.

“Geor-”

“I know I have no right to stick my nose into it, but what happened so wrong that you feel the constant need to butt heads?”

Silence and him clenching his jaw didn't look much promising in regard to her hopes of getting an answer when-

“We just do.” While his tone was even, and Malik obviously managed to reign whatever had made him grit his teeth in, all she got for her trouble was less than a bare minimum one would be able to work with. Before she could even let out a put-upon exhale at the cryptic reply, though, he gave in and elaborated further:

“It's the way we deal with stuff.” Now it was his turn to mumble something. What, Gie didn't manage to catch, “We've solved the... issue already, though.”

“So you'll argue less now?”

“Not likely,” if that wasn't a definitive statement right there. Splendid. She was starting to think that Mary was right. In one-year time, Italian mafia will pale in comparison. Relationship preferences...

Thinking back a bit, this was the first time Malik also openly addressed his relationship with Altair in her company. And what a fanfare did he chose to play it with. Speaking of that, on a closer look, Malik seemed this close to ask a question of its own, but he swiftly buried it expertly, shoving his attention into the caffeinated drink of his choice, he was holding. She could guess what this was about, though. Her brother was truly hopeless.

Ask who needs it spelled out for them again, brother.

“Hey.” Unphased, she walked over and started to unload stuff from the fridge that would make for a solid, good meal when rightly prepared. Chicken, vegetables and rice will do it.

“Hm?”

“I really don't mind, okay?” Malik took some time to react other than pin her with an intense gaze.

“Why?”

She smiled. For once, he was the dumb one.

“Because you're my brother.” Good and done with that, she pulled out a cutting board, issuing a challenge:

“Wanna cook together?”

“You'll tell me to get out in five minutes flat.” Was the gruff answer.

“That's not an answer.”

Keeping an eye on her with undisguised suspicion, he cautiously went to get a knife.

“The kitchen counter is not long enough for both of us.”

“I was here first!” Immediately calling dibs on the piece of furniture, she laughed as he swore.

Next

#cbyp #assassin's creed #altmal

[writeawayjake]

WIP Ch. 4.5!!! (I realized if you want someone to redeem a former hero you have to actually show them not being heroic at first so I slipped a chapter in between chapters)

     As they continued trudging down the road Jared’s head began to sink, sleep was trying to take him after the days strain. Sleep didn’t come lately without drink - it was the only way to avoid dreaming. Fighting to keep his eyes open he kept snapping his head back up, but the monotony of the road was beginning to lull him.

     Until there was a sudden stop that is. His forehead bumped Skye’s back as the horse dug in it’s hooves. The jolt forward woke him up somewhat and it brought into focus the sounds up ahead of them - sounds of a struggle. Leaning to one side he tried to see what all the commotion was about. Squinting in the low light he could see several men harassing someone, a merchant no doubt, judging by their cart and fine clothes. The merchant’s cart had lost a wheel and some highwaymen had no doubt smelled an easy payday.

     The Dark Lord’s absence had not reset the world. Men’s hearts were still weak, their bellies still empty, and their knives were still sharp. The power vacuum and the depleted legions had lead to unchecked brigands and highwaymen.

     “This isn’t our problem…” He said, in a cold dead tone. You couldn’t help anyway, you’re not a hero. The voice assured him.

     “Of course it’s our problem, how could you say that?” She asked incredulously.

     “Someone else will come along.” He replied meekly.

     “You should be ashamed of yourself…” Skye said, stepping out of the saddle, their mother’s ire in her eyes. The shame paralyzed him in the saddle as she strode purposefully toward the fracas. Even in the dull light he could see her hand move to the handle of the axe on her belt. Clenching his jaw and swallowing the lump in his throat he let out a frustrated,

     “Damn it,” under his breath. As she made her way closer and closer he flung himself out of the saddle and made his way after her. He’d waited too long however and she made it to the scuffle long before him. Stopping a few yards short of the group, she let out a stern and sharp,

     “Enough!” The entire world seemed to stop in place at the sound of her command. The brigands turned their heads, the traveler cocked an eyebrow, Jared got several very vivid flashbacks of being disciplined with a wooden spoon, as for what the horse thought? No one can say…

     Why did she have to get involved, the voice groaned.

     “Fuuuuck off.” One of the brigands said dismissively - still holding a knife to the merchant’s throat. Jared’s instincts began kicking in, he began evaluating each if member of the group, taking stock of his enemies, weighing his odds and then finding ways to balance them.

     Their leader, while not a particularly large man, at least not compared to the Behemoth, was still taller and broader than Jared. But a close look at his stance, as well as his grip on his knife betrayed him for the amateur he was. He wouldn't take a great deal of effort to see off should the need arise. Ineptitude, however, is a big factor in why cowards travel in packs. You don't need to be a great fighter when you have four other people in your side.

     None of the band stood out as particularly threatening. All were fairly well built, not sickly peasants - men who ate well at the expense of others. Giving them a good thrashing might lift his mood, but for the wrong reasons. That fact shamed him. He knew the helping the merchant was the right thing to do but justifying the effort wasn't easy.   

     Why should he help this man who wasn't willing to help himself. Why should he stick his neck out anymore, he’d done enough hadn't he?

     Soon however he realized it didn't  matter what he thought, Skye was even more stubborn than he was, she wouldn't back down. She matters more, he thought. Knowing that this wouldn’t end well no matter what he did, Jared finally took a deep breath and walked up next to his sister planting his feet in the ground - ready to receive yet another beating.

     As he stood there the light from the merchant's lantern painted her face a fiery orange to match the determined glare in here eyes. He put on a similar face, trying to communicate to them that they’d be better off just running away. But today just wanted to test him for some reason.

     The leader, clearly fed up with their meddling, turned his attention away from the merchant’s throat and began making his way towards them. Swishing his knife around like a wand he snarled,

     “You two really need to mind your own business before I get upset.” Skye didn't bat an eye yet he could see her hand grip the axe just a but tighter. Instinctively Jared’s hand moved for the sword but again it faltered just shy of the hilt. His hand simply hung their trembling. Please. Don't make me draw… He found himself thinking that desperate thought a lot lately.

     “Ha! Look at you! Doesn't matter how fancy your sword is boy. Cowards is cowards…”

     Boy? The voice asked incredulously. The man took another step towards Jared, knife still swishing this way and that, a crooked grin stretching across his face. Jared backed his hand away from the sword and clenched his fist, preparing to plant it in the man's nose, when suddenly, like a flash of lightning a hand darted forward striking the brigand in the throat. A split second later Jared watched as Skye planted her boot in the mans groin, dropping him to his knees. Before he could grasp what was happening she was behind the brigand twisting his arm in what must have been an excruciating direction before breaking it outright and relieving him of the knife.

     Jared stood there, just as dumbfounded as the brigands friends. He knew Skye was a brave woman and that she knew how to protect herself but he'd still never seen his big sister hurt anyone before. At least not in person. He'd hear a rumor here or there, when they were children, that she’d beaten some other girl for one reason or another but he had never been around to see it. And whenever he asked she’d always deny it.

     Knowing now that the odds were in there favor his mood lightened somewhat but he was still alert and at the ready. While the leader lay on the ground screaming in pain his friends started weighing their options and odds.

     Either this one was feeling strong or was especially stupid because he made his way toward the two of them just as his friend had done. Only with much more purpose and hate in his stride.

     “Boy! You best get that little bi-” The brigands threat was cut short by Jared’s hand around his throat. Steely fingers dug into his Adams apple. This was no longer about saving the merchant. Now it was about hurting them.

     “Keep talking,” Jared Snarled, “Keep fucking talking,” Jared growled through his teeth. He could feel the anger swelling, the hate rising.

     “Jared!” Skye barked, just as she had done at the tavern to snap him out of this exact same bloodlust.

     No! Kill the worm!!! You’re defending her honor! The voice screeched in his head. Trying to justify his actions as if they were for her safety and not his own gratification. As hard as he tried to heed her warning he still found his fingers tightening, threatening to rip the brigand’s throat out. Until he let out a weak,

     “...please…” Staring into the poor jackass’s eyes, Jared saw nothing but fear. Not hatred, or violence, or… evil. Just fear. It took him a moment to remember what that felt like, so long had he either yearned for death or been sure the man in front of him wouldn’t be up to the task.

     Jared’s grip loosened, his eyes softened. After a moment he let the man go entirely. The brigand spluttered falling to the ground, holding his throat - small bruises already forming where Jared’s fingers had dug in. Backpedaling on the ground until finally finding his footing the brigand fell into the arms of his stunned friends, never once taking his eyes off of Jared. Jared simply motioned with his chin for them to run. And run they did, disappearing into the forest.

     The merchant, now free of his attackers ran to his young saviors, falling over himself in his clumsy haste.

     “Thank you! Thank you young warrior!” The plump merchant sang.  “I am eternally grateful! If you ever need anything! Wine, clothes, jewelry, anything! Come to town and ask for Whick!”

     “Just fix your cart and be on your way Whick. Get somewhere safe before dark…” Jared replied dryly.

     “Maybe hire some muscle. The roads aren’t safe these days.” Skye added.

     “Yes! Yes I will thank you! Thank you.” And with that, Jared and Skye walked back to the horse in silence. The merchant frantically began working on his cart. Without another word they went their separate ways, the two young travelers looking for somewhere to bed down for the night and the merchant to tell of them to whoever would listen.

#write #writing #writer #mywriting #story #stories #storytelling #fiction #fantasy #drama #fight #my work #WIP #OC's #my WIP #! #WriteAwayJake

[rwbyremnants]

A fluffy, angsty little fic I wrote for @white-rose-week [Day 6: Modern AU, though I guess it also fits for Day 4: Scars a little]. It was supposed to be a drabble but it got a little long haha. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it!

“Who… or what… is this?”

A little weak chuckle floated out of Ruby’s mouth as she was glared down at by the petite, delicately-featured blonde. Everyone else on the team was either doing the same, or looking between the two of them as if waiting for an explosion.

“U-um…”

“This is Ruby Rose,” Coach Goodwitch informed them with a bite in her words. “I’m sure you’re all aware that we don’t normally allow freshmen to join the Varsity team, but she was the shining star of Signal Junior High. Scored practically every goal her last season, and against stiff competition. That fact, plus her academic prowess, suggests she will make a fine addition to the Beacon Academy student body.”

“Not much of a body, though,” some chick wearing sunglasses muttered out the corner of her mouth. Ruby heard her; she wasn’t bothering to keep her voice down. A few others laughed, and the girl staring her down smirked slightly but did not deign to actually laugh aloud. It seemed beneath her somehow.

“You will afford Miss Rose all the same respect due any other member of the Varsity team. Any ‘hazing’ or other ostracization will not be tolerated.” Her eyes narrowed at the students, and they stopped laughing or otherwise talking out of turn. “Good. Now, run some drills.”

A short blast on her whistle sent everyone racing back and forth on the field. Ruby was used to the routine, so she tried to fall in step behind a tall redhead, but then got jerked backward by a hand.

“Excuse me.”

Whipping around, Ruby found the pretty girl to be staring at her. As similar as their heights were, they were almost nose-to-nose. Only this close did she notice the scar over her left eye; it was very faint, but seemed so wrong on such an otherwise model-perfect face.

“What’s up?” Ruby said, trying for casual.

Her tone was scathing when she shot back, “What’s up? Oh, I don’t know. I’m only wondering what in the world you think you’re doing, that’s all.”

Swallowing hard, she tried her best to keep the smile in place. The way her dad taught her. “Um… I j-just want to play soccer. Isn’t that what you’re doing, too?”

“Not with the likes of you.” Her clear blue eyes swept up and down Ruby’s body, then pierced into her own. “Sit the bench.”

“But, uh, Coach just-”

“I don’t care. Coach might want us to give you a chance, but we have a huge first game this season. We can break in the fresh meat afterward. So just… dribble on the sidelines. Practice tackling, or juggling, or drooling, or whatever you feel like doing. But stay out of my way.”

Finally, Ruby’s good mood was depleted enough that she frowned. “Hey, I can’t do that. I was told to do drills just like you are, and if I don’t-”

“You’ll be fine, right? Just fine. Do as your team captain says.”

“Team captain?” Her eyes widened a little. “Oh. You’re the Snowstorm?”

That single word seemed to make the Snowstorm even angrier. Before, she had just been taking care of a problem, but the fury that replaced her previous annoyance eclipsed it so completely that Ruby actually shrank back out of a very real fear.

“Sit. Down. Right here.” When Ruby didn’t, she firmly gripped her shoulder. “Sit down or I’ll sit you down.”

Clenching her teeth, Ruby sank down to her haunches.

“Stay. Good girl.” Turning to leave, she glanced back down over her shoulder. “And once we’re through practicing formations and drills, maybe you can get up. We’ll see.”

And Ruby watched her go. Weiss Schnee, the Snowstorm. She’d been to only one of her games, but she was a force of nature; sloppy here and there, and she tended to hotdog a lot, but then again Ruby could be guilty of that herself sometimes. When a player scored as often as they did, a little hotdogging could be forgiven. If she was really honest, deep down, she had been hoping Weiss would be one of the teammates that she could have the most in common with because of their similar styles on the field.

“Nope,” she muttered under her breath, picking at a blade of grass.

It wasn’t for another eight minutes - Ruby was counting in her head, that’s how bored she was - that a girl with her long brown hair tied in a ponytail came over to crouch next to her. “How are you going?”

“Fine. I, um… Weiss benched me.”

“That’s no good; she’s not the coach. I’m Velvet.” They briefly shook hands. “Come on, I’ll practice with you a bit.”

“Are you sure? Won’t I get, like… burned at the stake?”

However, Velvet only laughed and helped her to her feet. Then they went to fetch a spare ball and started to pass back and forth.

Practice wore on, and both Velvet and the tall redhead, Pyrrha, seemed to be decent sorts who were friendly to a fault. Some of the other girls, like the dark-skinned one with long black hair and the sunglasses chick, continued to ignore her whenever possible - or worse, take cheap shots at her when she wasn’t looking. But at least they weren’t all like that.

It wasn’t until the very end of practice that Weiss seemed to notice that Ruby hadn’t obeyed her ‘orders’. Out of nowhere, just when she hadn’t been ready for it, a ball hurtled from off to her left and connected with her eye, sending her straight down to the dirt. Goodwitch hollered, but no one would specify who had kicked it; if some of the others noticed, they were too afraid to speak up. Including Velvet and Pyrrha, unfortunately.

So Ruby spent the last few minutes getting her eye iced instead of hearing the coach’s pep talk, and was the first into the locker room. Velvet offered her some words of sympathy, telling her to just ride out this period of adjustment and focus on the game itself, but Ruby could barely take any of it in. She felt rejected. Not that she would give up; oh no, she was made of stronger stuff than that. Her half-sister was the star of the basketball team, and she’d never let Ruby quit, anyway.

“Look at the whimpering little puppy.”

Suddenly, Ruby’s spine jolted straight when she realised Weiss and two of her cronies were standing over her. The same two she had expected, really. Trying for joviality, she smiled and shrugged, holding the ice pack in place. “Rough practice, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. And it’s going to get a lot rougher.”

“What is your deal?” she finally snapped, unable to keep a lid on her own annoyance any longer. “I haven’t done anything to you!”

“You messed up my plans. You took a spot I was grooming for one of the other Junior Varsity players, you… you weird prodigy!” Hands on hips, she took a step forward and snapped, “I’ve been working on Pollendina for months, molding her into a well-oiled footballing machine, and you just stroll in, flaunt your precious brain and your precious Signal record, and you thieve someone else’s hard-won place on my team!”

“Yeah,” the raven-haired girl said in a monotone voice. “There’s nothing worse than someone who thinks they deserve what they haven’t earned. Pretty shitty of you.”

Spreading her arms wide, she squeaked, “But I didn’t do any of that! I just played the best I could, and Principal Ozpin came to me himself and asked if I wanted to play with you guys! Like, how was I gonna say ‘no’?!”

“Could have thought of someone other than yourself,” sunglasses scoffed.

“Coco, I got this. Can you and Blake give me a moment?” They seemed to be all too ready to leave, heading off into the showers with their bags in tow. “You’re not going to make it here.”

“You can’t make that call this early. I mean, I haven’t even had a-”

“No, you misunderstand,” Weiss said with a sycophantic little titter. Then she leaned in and slammed her hands into the bench on either side of Ruby’s hips, leaning in close enough so that she could see her literally trembling with rage. “I’m going to make sure you never get off the bench. And if you do, I’ll make sure you never make it back to it.”

Ruby’s heart sank, and a chill ran down her spine. “Are… you threatening to kill me?”

That seemed to make her almost laugh at the absurdity. “You think I’m that much of a moron that I can’t think of a better solution than that? No, I don’t have to kill you. Just your career. Academic, athletic… either one. I tank you, and you’re off the team. It will be so easy…” Her finger lifted between their faces. “Stay out of my way. Stay off of the field. Stay.”

It took all of Ruby’s willpower not to look down and away. Yang had warned her about this. That she was going to face harsher challenges at Beacon if she enrolled, with it being so exclusive.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not your dog,” she whispered. The words were trembling, and not nearly as badass as she had been hoping they would sound, but at least she was standing up to Weiss instead of staying perfectly still and hoping she would turn invisible. “I… I can’t help how I got on the team, but now that I’m here, I j-just want… I want to help us win. That’s all. I can’t… I’m n-not going to do a bad job and hurt our shot at state just because you hate me.”

“Hate you? Please.” She drew back and let out another harsh bark of laughter. “I’d have to care about you to hate you. All you are is an obstacle - and you know what a ‘storm’ does to obstacles, don’t you?”

The silence was tense. Ruby didn’t bother to ask, and Weiss didn’t bother to answer. Just walked off toward the showers.

Though she had talked a good game, and was proud of standing up for herself, the minute Weiss was out of sight Ruby felt all of her energy drain away. She just didn’t want to be there anymore. A call to her father just resulted in him telling her to stick with it and saying a bunch of would-be encouraging fatherly platitudes, and a text reply from Yang could be summarised with “Quit your bitching, she’s nobody and you’re a boss ass bitch.” So that was it. If she stayed, she would be hated. If she left, she would be a coward and disappoint her family. What a decision.

Her own shower made her the last one out of the locker room, and she was dragging as if she had run a thousand drills. She barely made it to the parking lot before she remembered: Yang had told her to catch the bus today. She had some date with a guy or whatever. Didn’t matter, it only meant she would have to go home, alone, on public transit. The perfect end to a perfect day.

“And this is the best you can do?!”

Automatically, Ruby ducked her head when she heard the violent shout. The parking lot was almost empty of student vehicles, but there was one luxury sedan that didn’t seem to belong to anyone on a teacher’s salary a little ways away. And she could just see two heads over the top of it, both with the same platinum-blonde hair.

There was a response, but Ruby couldn’t make it out. She only heard the next shout, a man’s voice again. “You really think you have a shot at going Ivy League with grades like these? An actual B?! This would be fine for a state school, if you want to be a worthless little bitch on the arm of some internet mogul!”

“I’m sorry!” This time, Ruby had inched close enough to hear the distressed voice, trying to hunch her shoulders so she wouldn’t be seen or noticed. Whatever this was didn’t sound good and she wasn’t sure about getting involved. “The team has been-”

“The team, the team! Waste of your precious time and resources! Practice with your vocal coach, or study for the PSATs! Those will advance you in life! Not this, this… inane pastime!”

“It’s not inane! You and I both know that extracurriculars-”

Maybe the air hadn’t been exactly calm before that moment, but the SLAP that pierced it shattered whatever calm had been left. Every bone and muscle in Ruby’s body tensed up, and she held her hands out to either side. Ready to move, but not sure what to do.

“Don’t talk back to me!” the voice snarled. “And don’t tell me what I know, you pathetic- I raised you to be a Schnee! Not to be a… a shin guard-wearing DYKE!”

Schnee. No way, it wasn’t possible. That reedy, subservient voice couldn’t belong to…

“Father, I- I w-won’t let you down again,” the voice said. No way was it Weiss’s voice. Couldn’t be her, couldn’t be the same person. This voice was too hollow, too numb. “I’m sorry.”

“See that you don’t.” There was a weary sigh, as if he had been doing nothing more than suffering through some boring appointment. “I’ll leave you to take your own car back to the manor. Don’t wreck another one or I’ll put an end to these soccer shenanigans of yours once and for all.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ruby darted away, hoping her backpack wasn’t jostling too much and making any noise as she hid behind a beat-up old Chrysler. Biting her lip, hoping against hope she was wrong, she watched as the other head of white hair disappeared inside the car, and it drove around her and away from the school to reveal…

Weiss. Wrapped in a pale blue dress that easily cost more than everything in Ruby’s closet combined. Digging in her thousand-dollar purse for keys to the sporty little BMW that she was walking toward on unsteady stiletto Louboutins. Dropping them to the ground… and stopping.

Completely stopping. Ruby waited for a few minutes, almost willing her to pick up the keys and keep going to her car. To get in and ride away. At first, she thought she just wanted Weiss to go away so she could get on with her day and try to forget what she had accidentally witnessed. None of her business. This was between the Schnee family, right? Nothing for some freshman to get herself involved with.

But when Weiss had been standing there, shaking and staring down at her keys for nearly five minutes, she realised that wasn’t the real reason she was watching. She was waiting for her to drive away and prove that she was alright. To relieve her conscience of this burden of caring. And she wasn’t.

She wasn’t alright.

Weiss still hadn’t moved when Ruby bent down to pick up the keys. Hearing them jingle, she started and took a step back, shock clear in her features beneath the red handprint.

“What are you doing?” Ruby didn’t answer. Weiss snatched the keys away. “Get out of my way.”

“Okay.”

Weiss made it all the way to her car door. Then she paused again, indecisive. Turning back, she finally asked, “What? Already back to being a good dog?”

“I don’t need to be in your way.” That was all Ruby said. Just offered it as an explanation. She was just standing there, watching Weiss carefully.

“What? What is it?” When she got no answer, Weiss threw the keys at her. “WHAT?!”

Ruby caught them pretty effortlessly, then blinked at her a few times. What could she say? If their places were reversed, she probably wouldn’t want anyone to know this interaction had ever occurred. So nothing sounded right in her head, and she kept her mouth shut, just staring at Weiss’s marked face.

When it dawned on her where the scar over her eye probably came from, she almost said something. Almost cursed Mr. Schnee for all she was worth… but she managed to hold her tongue.

Then Weiss seemed to realise that she needed those keys, because she strolled up to Ruby and reached for them. Ruby didn’t even try to stop her. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t talking.”

“You were going to talk!” Turning away, she shifted the keys a little - and she saw something that made her stop and look around frantically. “Oh no…”

“What happened?”

“Quiet, you.” But Ruby already saw that her thumb was running back and forth over a little crystalline keychain that had been snapped in half. While its owner was being frantic, Ruby’s eyes went straight back to the spot where Weiss dropped them before and looked around in a circle until she spotted it, then strode straight for the glinting piece.

“Hey, leave that alone!” Weiss snapped when she saw Ruby picking it up, racing over to her and snatching for it. “That’s not yours, you mutt!”

Shrugging, she asked, “A caterpillar, huh?”

“Shut up. Just… don’t. It’s none of your business.” She stared between the two pieces, one still attached to her keys and the other in the opposite hand. “Damn…”

“Maybe you can still fix it?”

“Probably not. It’s ruined.” The last word broke as she said it, as cleanly as the ornament had. But Weiss drew herself back together, nipping the other piece of her keychain into her purse. “Now. If you’re through lousing up my day, I think… I’m going home now.”

“Okay.”

A noise of sheer frustration burst from her throat. “Is that all you have to say? Are you such a docile breed that you’re going to stand there and take this?! I’ve been- you IDIOT! How can you have no feelings about anything? You don’t care that you ruined my team, and you don’t care that you ruined my day, and y-you don’t care that I’m standing here, screaming at you in the middle of the parking lot! Does anything actually go on behind those glassy grey eyes of yours, or are you literally a lobotomy patient?!”

At some point during that tirade, both of them had begun to cry. They both noticed, but it was Weiss who took a step back in shock; Ruby had been expecting this, but she clearly hadn’t. “What are you crying for, you stupid mutt?!”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby offered. She wasn’t sure what she was sorry about, her crying or Weiss crying.

“No. Shut up. You- UGH! Stop being so- STOP!”

But of course, most people find it hard to stop crying once they’ve started. Ruby’s refusal to do the impossible sent Weiss over the edge, and she flew at her and began trying to punch her, in the face, the shoulders, the chest. Anywhere. Ruby protected her face pretty well, but she still winced when the keys sliced into her arm. Weiss’s sobs and screams were the same noise, and she hit and she hit until the hits got weaker, and then she was mostly leaning against her as she weakly slapped her arms with fists that had no fire left in them, sobbing as her words failed to make any sense at all.

As Ruby held her in a clinging embrace, she could just make out the words “I HATE YOU!” through the riot of bawling and coughing and wailing to the heavens. The fists were clutching her collar as she buried her face against Ruby’s neck, shivering and unable to stop for a long time.

When her sobs were finally sniffles and her body was still save for the shivering, Ruby pet up and down her back and whispered, “I’m sorry, Weiss. I’m so, so sorry…”

“But why?! That’s s-so stupid! I told you I’d h-hurt you, that I would… and you’re sorry?! What are you, Canadian?!” When Ruby chuckled, she shook her collar slightly. “And that wasn’t very funny, don’t give me any p-pity laughs!”

“You’d be pretty funny if you didn’t have that stick up your butt,” she observed with a watery grin against Weiss’s soft white hair.

“Idiot.” After a few more seconds, she whispered, “You saw. My face… is it bad?”

“No worse than mine. But at least we can both explain it by saying ‘soccer practice’, I guess. Only difference is that I’m telling the truth.” Ruby felt her entire body tense at the word ‘truth’, so she hurried on ahead, “Probably be gone by tomorrow, but, um… I dunno, I’m not a nurse or whatever.”

“Great.” A hollowness had crept into Weiss’s tone. Probably thinking about her father. All Ruby could think of was her own, and how much kinder and gentler he was, all the time. Made stupid dad jokes, sure, but it was worlds better than what Weiss was dealing with.

“I’ll ruin you even worse if you tell anybody. You have to swear you won’t; I don’t know who you-”

“Shut up already, God! Just… chill out for now.”

A little nod against her neck. Then the captain whispered, “Sorry about… the black eye. And hitting you just now; that was unbecoming of me. But I won’t apologise for being pissed at you for taking Penny’s spot. It’s not right. She earned that, and you swooped-”

“I didn’t. Seriously, Ozpin and Goodwitch must have thought I was the best pick… I just play the game. But I guess… if they didn’t talk to you girls about it, that’s not cool. You’re a team, not freaking interchangeable Legos. So, um, if you want… I could talk to them about making that right with you?”

“You’d do that? Even if it meant like, getting yourself bumped down to JV?”

“Sure. I mean, I don’t want to be on a team if I don’t deserve it; that’s dumb. Rather just play matches on JV than deal with internal politics and junk.”

Weiss sighed, leaning into her. By that point, Ruby began to wonder how long she was going to have to keep hugging this crabby team captain, but Weiss seemed to need it right about then so she didn’t protest. Besides, it was way better than being slapped and punched. “Interchangeable Legos, huh?”

“Yeah. Why, you don’t like Legos?”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“WHAT?! How can you not know about Legos? They’re awesome — you can make anything with them, like, literally! Though they’re kinda expensive now, and they put too much focus on fandom-specific merch…”

“What are you even saying right now?” Sniffling, she pulled back at last, but she didn’t pull away. Her head tilted to one side, and Ruby knew the red mess of Weiss’s puffy face was probably still better than her own. “I… I can’t believe how nice you’re being to me after how I acted. You’re either the nicest person I’ve ever met, or a real dope.”

“Probably a little of both,” she sighed with a roll of her eyes. “My sister seems to think so.”

“Older?” When Ruby nodded, Weiss’s sigh was very similar. The caress of breath against her neck reminded her that they were standing so close, so she took a step back, trying not to let Weiss see the slight shiver it caused. “I know how that goes. But sometimes they’re better than a best friend.”

“Ditto that.” Making a guess as she led Weiss over toward her car, arm still around her shoulders, she asked, “Was that keychain from her?”

Weiss stopped dead, gaping at her in disbelief. “How could you possibly know…?” But she stopped when she saw Ruby’s playful little smirk.

“Maybe I’m not that much of a dopey mutt.” For the first time, Weiss’s smile wasn’t at her expense, and Ruby was actually almost enjoying standing there with her arm around her. But she had a feeling Weiss would overreact when she realised they were close, so she kept walking as she asked, “Kinda racist, too, don’t you think? Calling me that.”

“Oh, don’t be dumb - I meant ‘mutt’ like how you act like a dog, not that you’re… what, Chinese and European?” When Ruby blinked at her, she smirked. “Now who’s the astute one?”

Giggling, she took Weiss’s keys and opened the door. The captain looked distantly embarrassed at being ‘taken care of’ by someone she had thought was as worthy of respect as a toilet less than an hour ago, but she didn’t protest. “Okay, you get a point. We’re even now, right?”

“No. Not until you let me buy you dinner. Um… both to bribe you not to say anything, and… to…”

“Thank me?” Weiss’s grunt of frustration was affirmation enough. “I’m not sure I can promise not to say anything to anyone… but not to anyone at school. Pinky swear if you want.”

A little fear flickered behind Weiss’s eyes. Clearly, she was worried about what might happen if Ruby decided what she had witnessed needed to be reported. But instead of acknowledging it, she snapped, “Fine. Good enough for now. Get in, unless you have plans somewhere.”

“Nope! No other plans, new bestie.”

The minute she was in the passenger’s seat, a well-manicured index finger was hovering in her face. “Let’s get something straight. By no means does this make us friends, Rose.”

Of course, Ruby disagreed. But instead of arguing, she merely raised her hand. Weiss flinched, and she could understand why, but she only pressed the tip of her own pointer finger into the raised one.

“Boop!”

“You are so childish.”

                                                               THE END

#white rose week #white rose #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants #modern au #child abuse tw #abuse tw

[cecke8]

Your Ginger Housemate - Part 2

| First [all] | Next |

Number two! Remember, I’m open to all sorts of questions or requests!

You’d just gotten back to your apartment from grocery shopping. Usually, you’d be able to walk back home in a considerably short amount of time. However, this week was different. This week - and most likely for many weeks to come - you were catering for an extra person. A person with an enormous appetite! The load had more than doubled, making the walk home so much harder. A shame the intimidating freeloader couldn’t lend a hand. 

As you arrived at the apartment, you paused at the front door. Although Jerome been here for a week and a half, it still gave you a shock each time you saw the ginger in your apartment. You’d warmed up to each other in a considerably short amount of time. After your initial fear of him had all but depleted, you realised he wasn’t going to do anything to harm you... intentionally anyway. If anything, Jerome seemed to enjoy the company. He’d still frighten you, especially when he would just turn up at your doorway. You wouldn’t know how long he was there for exactly, but you guessed it had been awhile. He seemed to be able to walk around making no noise at all and always make it his mission to scare you as frequently as possible. That usually included coming up behind you and saying something as simple as “Boo,” in your ear, his chin practically brushing against your shoulder. The man had no sense of personal space. It, of course, would cause you to jump and usually yelp in fright. You’d turn around and glare at him which would simply cause him to cackle even louder. You’d then have to tell him to shut up otherwise the neighbours would hear. It wouldn’t do much. He’d cover his mouth but just burst out into a fit of giggles. Either way, he had made your life much more… interesting.

After the effort of unlocking the door and opening it with your foot, you walked into your little fantasy world - that’s what you liked to call it anyway… A fantasy world which had been completely trashed! Jerome sat in the middle of the room clearly too busy to care you had come home.

“What the hell Valeska?! I leave you for two hours, and this is what I come back too? What is all this junk? It’s only 6:30 for God’s sake!”

The dining room table, chairs, the lounge, television, bookshelf, and lamps had all been pushed against the walls, leaving a large space full of duffel bags. Their contents spilt across the floor.

Jerome looked up with an irritated smile, tilting his head to the side. 

“Uh, ‘this junk,’, is my stuff. And I would appreciate, y/n, if you kindly did not touch anything just yet. Thank you… didja’ get that stuff I asked for?” 

He looked down as he asked the question, seemingly too busy to care if you needed assistance. His mood swings almost gave you whiplash. He just went from amused to serious in a split second! 

Shaking your head, you attempted to step over everything, but it was precarious. The shopping bags caused you to almost topple onto a pile of what you would class as junk and with a huff, you hauled the bags onto the kitchen counter before turning to confront Jerome. He was smiling! He must have been amused by your less-than-graceful trip across the room. Now, you were mad.

“Yes, I did. But I don’t understand why you’d need the stain remover -”

“Heavy stain remover right?” He enquired without even glancing in your direction. 

You continued in a heartbeat, “Ugh, yes. All those different steel polishes and a packet of rags. You didn’t even bother to give a hand, but you watched? You’re ridiculous! Where’d you even get all this stuff?”

Jerome begrudgingly looked up, obviously irritated. “Here and there… what? Don’t think I wouldn’t have made stashes around the place? I wasn’t letting the stupid Feds chuck all my stuff… again.” At that, he rolled his eyes, shook his head and continued. He was acting as if you were the one with issues!

“What’re you doing anyway? And what’s with all the bags? Don’t give me a half ass answer either. You live under my roof, I wanna’ know what you’ve dragged under it,” you demanded

“Jeez, yes mom,” He dragged ‘mom’ out, mocking you, “Didn’t realise I wasn’t allowed privacy.”

“Just get on with it would you!” You folded your arms, impatient.

“I’m organising everything,” As Jerome explained, he pointed to the now small or non-existent piles, “Stuff I can use at the moment, stuff I can try and fix, stuff that needs cleaning and stuff I’m just gonna get rid of.”

“And the stuff is?” You were surprised at the way he’d thought everything through. He didn’t strike you as a planner.

Jerome chuckled, “Hmm… show you or tell you…hmm. I’ll tell ya’. If you really wanna see it all, you’re gonna have to help me out,” he smiled mischievously, resting his cheek on his fist. Jerome knew exactly how to play you, getting precisely what he wanted. He convinced you to buy chocolate mousse cups for god-sake!

You threw your hands into the air, “Oh fine, I’ll help. But you have to tell me first.”

“Goody! Okay, so there’s guns, knives, clothes, ammo, shoes -”

“Wait, wait, wait. Did you say shoes? I’ve only seen you wear one pair.”

Jerome sighed as if explaining himself was one big bundle of effort. For such a seemingly ambitious and ‘energetic’ person, he seemed to really hate effort in small proportions. Even if someone usually wouldn’t class it as effort.

“Wow, y/n, aren’t you observant. But what really gets me is that you’ll ask about shoes but not the, uh, more lethal items,” he smiled as your cheeks flared crimson,  “Okay, here’s the thing. I like shoes, alright? They're… easy to, keep. I’ve gotta few, it mixes things up. Some of it for different purposes… and some just because. Besides, I still find it strange you’re more interested in clothing than you are weapons,” he shrugged

You shook your head, “Whatever… and how many’s a few anyway?”

“What? Shoes? I dunno. They’re all in that bag,“ nodding towards the bag next to him. You looked at it and back at Jerome. It wasn’t small. Definitely larger than average duffel bags. Maybe a meter long? You didn’t excel in mental measurements.

“Wow, okay... Anything else?”

“Yeah. Trophies… in a sense, if that’s what you wanna call ‘em.”

“Right. So what am I meant to do?” You asked perplexed and slightly wearily.

“Grab the stuff I wanted you to get, grab a bag and I’ll tell you.”

You did as you were told, finding it impossible to stay mad at Jerome. He was so easy going. Well, with what you had seen anyway. A person no one else knew about. He wasn’t just the laughing psychopath everyone saw him as - even if a psychopath wasn’t the right term. Sociopath was immensely more accurate. Well... maybe. You knew him better than anyone really. Well you, and maybe the people he’d worked with before. 

‘I should ask him about that. The Maniax? Some of them are still around… would they do something to me if they knew?’ It was a scary thought, but something for another time. 

You grabbed a bag and slowly opened it. Thankfully, it was only full of clothes. He didn’t have many, but he wasn’t deprived either. There was a variety, ranging from casual to formal and a few in between. As you sorted through them, you began realising some clothes that were covered in dark stains. After closer inspection, you threw them back into the bag.

“Ugh! Jerome, there’s blood on them!”

“Wow, relax doll face. It’s dry, it can’t kill you.” 

You glared at him, simply causing him to laugh and shake his head. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know! I mean c’mon y/n, you aren’t that stupid. Ha ha ha!” He laughed even harder at your expression. You really didn’t have any idea.

“That’s what the stain remover was for? Are you kidding!” You exclaimed, rubbing your hands on your jeans prolifically. “Who’s is it anyway?”

“Huh? Oh, the blood. Dunno. Not like I wrote a list. Some random I guess. Could be mine, but I doubt it. Don’t worry, I’ll clean them myself. The polish, in case you’re wondering, is for the other stuff.”

“You polish your knives!?” You were more surprised you hadn’t figured it out more than anything. It wasn’t that you were oblivious… you’d just never been exposed to this lifestyle. A life full of danger, weapons and, inevitably, a complete and utter maniac.

“Well, yeah. A showman’s gear must be presentable,” 

You raised an eyebrow.

“Anyhoo, so there are no more shocks, you can just do my clothes and shoes. All good, I’ll do the rest.”

“Yeah, yeah… moron. Why would there be shocks?” You didn’t know if it was a good idea to ask, or whether he would even answer, but what the heck?

Jerome smiled deviously, “I can’t tell you.”

Curiosity was your worst weakness, and he knew it! You didn’t persist on the matter though, neither did he elaborate, so you simply focussed on the task at hand.

After the initial shock of your discoveries, (one including the ‘Maniax’ costume and GCPD police uniform, which he took back from one of those crazy followers he had), you found he owned twenty-six pairs of shoes! ‘Why the hell would someone need so many?’

****

“Ten o'clock? Wow, that took longer than I thought. What now?” You leant forward like an excited puppy. Although there wasn’t much talking involved, you’d had fun. There were, of course, the snide comments and sexual innuendos Jerome seemed to know an abundance of here and there, but you loved how you’d been able to just hang around Jerome. It made you feel privileged. Special. You hadn’t felt like this is a very long time.

He looked at you, apparently amused. “You’re not tired?”

“Well, now I am.” You pretended to pout, but gave up and smiled. Jerome looked into your eyes, and you held each other’s gaze longer than normal. Suddenly, Jerome’s expression changed, and he raised his eyebrow, smiling.

“I’ll go - yawn - to bed.”

Fatigue had taken over very quickly. You didn’t know why, but considering you had work tomorrow, it was probably for the best you went to bed. Those CD’s and comics weren’t going to sell themselves.

“Well, night Jerome.”

“Night sweet cheeks.” He smiled when you scowled at him.

“Ugh, whatever.” Smiling, you dragged yourself upstairs, but not before a final glance over your shoulder. Jerome was fiddling with a knife, a confused expression on his face.

#jerome valeska #gotham #fanfic #dc comics #x reader #cameron monaghan #jerome valeska fanfic #jerome valeska xreader #jerome valeska imagine #imagines #Yourgingerhousemate

[lovingtimetravelexpert-blog1]

The purity of White seems to be Red, Chapter 2

A/N: A new post as promised. Tell me what you think.

Chapter 2

Did you know that she is the only case a Kegare ochi was reverted?

Of course he'd known. They had discussed the event that lead to the first appearance of Yuuto and the following fight between Seigen and him in a meeting of the founder families. But somehow he never connected the Mayura who suffered being a Kegare ochi to the Mayura he got acquainted with. For him Mayura was the embodiment of innocence and purity since the day they have met. Some people might call her faith and her honesty naive but he recognized it as strength. How could he imagine her as something essentially impure?

As he went to the hospital the day after his talk to Arima he tried to remember signs of her behaving any different after waking up. Being spell power depleted, she might be exposed to negative auras...

"... Besides we have no knowledge on people who suffered an Kegare ochi. There might be traces left."

"Arima-san, did the oracle show you Otomi's fate?"

"The oracle does not show the path, it just tells me about certain events. We can't expect the future to write itself. We have to make certain that Otomi-chan won't fall into impurity again."

"Hai."

"As her partner you know her the best and I want you to keep an eye on her. She was exposed to a high rate of miasma."

Kegare ochi. If he could, he would try to protect Otomi from this fate. He just hoped he wouldn't have to relieve her if it ever came to this point...

When Shimon arrived at the hospital, he was feeling nervous. Although he had overcome his self-consciousness and timidity in the past, some things still made him nervous. How was he supposed to act normal while keeping an eye on her?

As he reached the door of her hospital room, he heard genuine laughter from inside. He instantly frowned before he knocked on the door being suddenly unnerved.

Her cheerful voice invited him. "Come in!"

When he entered the room Rokuro and Mayura both grinned at him. Rokuro stood at the side of Mayura's bed where she was sitting on. "Oi, Shimon. What is it with that cold face you're wearing?"

"Rokuro! That's not a polite thing to say to Shimon!" Mayura complained.

Shimon crossed his arms. "Typical, he has no manners and no respect for his seniors."

As always Rokuro exploded, yelling: "Hey, it is not easy to talk to you. You're like a wall."

"Totally immature."

"And you're just cold."

Suddenly Mayura intervened. "Stop quarreling, you two! Jeez... You're both imperturbable nuisance sellers."

Rokuro chuckled about Mayura's odd expression while Shimon couldn't hold back a smile. He and Rokuro liked to bicker but since the day Rokuro helped him save his cousin who was like a sister to him, he was grateful and came to accept Rokuro's abilities as an exorcists. Although he had no manners, Shimon had grown to be grateful for the unlikely companionship. That what irked him the most were the moments he saw Rokuro with Otomi. At some point Shimon noticed the blush she would get speaking to Rokuro or her glazy eyes. It was very irritating. Just thinking about it made him feel cranky.

Rokuro looked at him again with a warm smile. "Anyway, thank you, Shimon, I heard you saved Mayura in Magano."

Shimon shrugged and turned his head when he saw her heartfelt smile that made him feel uncomfortable. "Otomi is one of the Heavenly Commanders. We cannot afford the twelfth seat to be vacant again."

In the corner of his eyes he noticed how she suddenly turned her head away. Regret filled him. He had been to harsh this time and hated himself for it. Even Rokuro gave him a cold stare. "I mean..." He coughed trying to cover his embarrassment. "She is important – not only to you."

Seconds passed that felt like an eternity while he waited for her reaction clenching his hands to fists within his pockets. To his luck, there was a knock on the door before anyone did say anything else.

After a moment, or two, Mayura invited the person at the door with a less cheerful voice. "Come in."

A nurse entered the room smiling at Mayura. "I see, our patient is very popular."

A blush appeared on Mayura's cheeks.

"You are going to be released soon. I just need to give you a small parting gift." With that the nurse giggled mischievously and pulled out a syringe from behind her back. "To make sure your immune system works correctly."

Shimon didn't understand the sudden heavy mood as both Mayura and Rokuro seemed to be clearly disturbed by the sight of the syringe.

All of a sudden Rokuro seemed to be in a rush. "Well, I gotta go. Good to see you're well and healthy, Mayura. Later!" As he passed Shimon, he grabbed hard onto Shimon's shoulder. What the hell was going on? "You better hold Mayura's hand through this. See ya!" And in a flash he was gone.

"Rokuro? Hey, where are you going?" Mayura seemed to be scared of something. Could it be she was afraid of syringes? Her eyes searched his in desperation. She grabbed tightly onto the bed linen with one hand, the other was pressed to her chest in a fist. "Shimon, c-could you please hold my hand?"

He felt like he wouldn't have said no to anything she would have asked with the gaze she was giving him. "Un." He nodded and walked to the bed she was still sitting on.

With a blush of embarrassment on her face, the blue eyed girl grabbed his hand and hold tightly on to it.

He could feel her raging heart beat and wondered about the depth of her phobia as her hold became tighter. Just as the needle nearly reached her skin, she suddenly shrieked and pulled his hand. He had a problem to maintain his balance and fell towards her. Luckily he managed to catch his weight with his free hand on her other side before crushing her under him. A moment later he noticed the position they were in. While he was able to prevent their bodies being pressed to each other, he was suddenly very aware that his stretched arm was touching her breast.

Ashamed and flustered he sprang into the other direction. Trying to control the heat that rose to his face, he looked at the nurse who stood there smiling. "Well, that is one way to make things easier." She laughed at her own joke. "Otomi-san, you are released now. Just remember, if you're feeling uncomfortable or dizzy don't hesitate to come back."

The nurse left the room while Shimon was fighting to ignore the tingling in his arm or the resurfacing memory of her chest being pressed against him when she and Rokuro entered Megano on the isle for the first time. Coming to think of it, many of his problems started on that day.

"Shimon?" Mayura looked at him a blush powdering her cheeks lovely, her eyes were shining with many emotions which he wasn't able to read entirely. "Arigato, Shimon."

He smiled about her kindness even in this stupid situation. "Don't bother. It just surprised me a little bit that you are afraid of syringes."

"That's not what I meant. I just realized, I never thanked you for saving me yesterday. So thank you, Shimon." Her smile brightened the whole room. Shimon was rooted to the ground and finally came to understand something. He was already skin deep.

Having lived on Tsuchimikado island for a few months, to Mayura it still felt like nothing had changed. In comparison to the other eleven Heavenly Commanders or Rokuro and Adashino-san she was weak. Yesterday had been her first mission as solo Heavenly Commander in a squad and although the squad was a large one with many respected exorcists from the noble families she failed. It was supposed to be an easy mission but she still lacked so many things. With only little confidence in herself how was she supposed to lead a squad and how could the members of said squad take her seriously? Captain Otomi, wasn't that a funny expression? Hopefully Amawaka-san wasn't going to be mad. Mayura had put shame on her father's house. Well, it wasn't like they had treated her like one of them from the beginning, well except for Amawaka Yuzuru (1). For everyone else she was an outsider, a mainlander, not even an Amawaka. She had no experience and not a title like Rokuro whom half of the isle admired. But now...

And then there was him. She looked up as she walked with Shimon in silence to the Amawaka estate. With twelve he became platoon leader and by the age of fourteen he had already become a Heavenly Commander. He was an idol in every way. He always kept his cool, he was a good companion, a competent leader and kind in his heart. Although they were partners under the rank of the Heavenly Commanders they were far from being equals. How many exorcists have died under her command yesterday?

As if he felt her gaze he looked at her over his shoulder with his typically stern gaze and a raised eyebrow. "Something the matter?"

No matter how uncaring he seemed to be on the first sight, he was a very compassionate person with a high level of empathy. When Rokuro's and Adashino-san's worth to go to Tsuchimikado was tested, she felt worthless. It was Shimon who helped her get back on her feet. Ultimately he and the trust of her father led her to travel to the island with Rokuro. She was lucky to have them both as teachers and seniors. She held her fists to her chest, readying herself for what came next. "Actually I wanted to ask you about my mission yesterday. I know I am supposed to give the official report but since I did not know how the battle turned out, I thought I might ask you."

He stopped walking and turned to her with his hands in his pockets. "I've already told you, you did the best you could even if you were to reckless with your own safety."

She shook her head. She needed to hear the truth, no protection from it, even if it might hurt. "How many people died?"

Shimon mustered her for a while unblinking. "As for casu-"

"Don't call them that, please." She clenched her fists. She never wanted to adopt the notion that people dying were nothing more than casualities. Never.

His tone changed into something smooth and gentle when he replied, "My apologies. Nobody died yesterday. Although some are still on the verge of death due to large wounds or a strong miasma intake, there is a good chance everyone will survive. As I said you did your job well, Otomi."

Tears sprang to her eyes feeling relieved and she smiled. "I am glad." Suddenly the anxiety she felt since yesterday was lifted from her like veil and the rush of emotions broke down her walls. Wailing she put her arms around her and went down to her knees.

She felt hands on her shoulder. Warmth spread through her as she lifted her head and saw Shimon kneeling on one knee in front of her. Sincerity was written on his face. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I've seen many battlefields where the many people died and they weren't surprised by a mass of impurities."

Death. The idea of someone dying she'd known was hard to understand. She didn't even want to imagine how it felt to have seen so many deaths. Shimon must have been very young when he saw people falling. No wonder he put up high walls around his feelings. The children of Tsuchikado. What did they have to endure? And here she was crying like a baby. Complaining about a possibility when it was the unmasked truth to someone like him. She brushed her tears away. "I'm sorry, Shimon. You must think of me to be very weak."

"Actually-" Rising he held his hand to her. Grabbing it, she let herself be pulled into a standing position. "I understand what you're feeling. Your will to protect people doesn't make you weak but strong. On my first mission as captain three men were lost. I still remember their faces."

She pressed his hand she was still holding in condolence. "That must be hard."

His gaze shifted from her face to their intertwined hands. He pulled his hand away and stuck both of his hands again into the pockets of his trousers. "You did very well on your first mission. Just promise me, you will save as many as you can, without risking your own life again."

"I'll do my best." She raised her hand to a "V"-sign and smiled.

His responding smile made her last doubts melt away and finally feel easy.

"Nii nii-sama!" Sayo came running down the staircase when he entered the estate of the Ikagura-clan with a bright smile on her face and threw herself on him.

He spun around with her laughing before placing her on the ground. "Chiiko, you shouldn't run like this. You could hurt yourself. Why are you in this awfully happy mood anyway?"

She grinned and took the hand that Mayura had held a few hours ago. Dragging him into the gardens she said, "Roku came by today."

Smiling about her adoration for that boy, he felt grateful for his help rescuing his sister. He just wanted her to be happy. "Is that so? Is he still there?"

Sayo shook her head as she sank on a bench motioning for him to sit next to her. "No, he had to go off to some training with Ioroi-san (2). Although he didn't seem that thrilled, he had to leave."

Shimon chuckled imagining just what the training with Ioroi-san looked like. "I see." Rokuro had in fact improved his skill in the last few months, he adapted very fast to the high level of miasma on Megano. But training fight Narumi-san was a totally different thing. That guy had a will of steal, the stamina of a whole stall of horses and an unwavering positive attitude. Shimon was glad his sensei was different. Then again, he figured, Narumi was probably a better teacher than Tenma (3).

"I'm glad, he doesn't blame me for what happened with Beni." Sayo said out of nowhere.

Shimon looked at cousin who had a large burden to carry since her birth. Her head was bend but she was wearing a smile. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed softly. "It's not your fault." In fact it wasn't her fault for believing Benio's guardian would be as pure as Rokuro's since they were the Twin Exorcists. No one had seen that coming. 'No one except that guy.', Shimon thought as an image of Arima popped up. Shimon didn't understand Arima's scheme but since the life of Sayo had been threatened in the last act of Arima's play, Shimon swore to be more careful around that guy.

After Sayo and he sat for a while peacefully next to each other Sayo gave him a sideways glance. "Roku told me you were visiting Mayu in the hospital."

He nodded, slowly and carefully. Out of habit he crossed his arms. He hoped he wouldn't have to think about her in the last hours of the day. "Of course, we are partners. She is a Heavenly Commander now, remember? Also she is still my pupil."

Sayo flashed a grin at him. "Mhmm."

Unsure of its meaning Shimon mustered his little sister. "Why are you grinning like that?"

"It's nothing. I was just thinking that it would be nice, if she could come to visit me sometime, too."

"I'll ask her, next time I see her." Having said that he pushed Mayura out of his head for the rest of the evening.

Later when he was preparing for bed, his phone vibrated. Meeting of the Heavenly Commanders, 9 am. 'So much for not thinking about her, huh."

(1) Amawaka Yuzuru appeared in the specials of chapter 33 and in chapter 34 at the central office of the Head Exorcist Union. Actually I am not even sure if there are any other family members of the Amawaka clan because she was the only one shown so far in the present time. Has someone read the Light Novel about Seigen's story? I would love to have more insight into the Amawaka clan.

(2) Ioroi Narumi is the Heavenly Commander who controls the earth and was presented in the 35th chapter.

(3) Unomiya Tenma is the strongest Heavenly Commander. It's the one who does not need talismans and has two differently colored eyes, presented in chapter 34 and 35. A/N: If you want to read more and can’t wait. There are currently five chapters of this on fanfiction.net.

#Shimayu #fanfic #the purity of white seems to be red #sousei no onmyouji