#and got roped up in the dangerous games that take place under god's nose and slowly got strangled to death

[yikesharringrove]

We’re Us

A little commishy for my bxtch @thinger-strang.

Read on Ao3

This shit is SOFT

-

“Dustin, we all saw that fireball hit you,” Will said accusatorily, gesturing to the red bean bag on the ground at Dustin’s feet.

“Okay, first of all, you’re supposed to call a pause of play before using my real name,” Dustin said, all in one breath. “And second of all, the fireball only hit my lute, therefore I sustained no physical damage.” Dustin gestured to the cereal box that was taped to a jump rope, slung over his shoulder like it was a prized instrument.

“No, it didn’t. We all saw it hit your shoulder. You’d lose that arm at least, and take probably, like, fifty damage points.” Lucas pretended to aim a bow and arrow at Dustin while he spoke.

Dustin was getting dangerously close to huffy territory.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll take the stupid damage points. Can we resume play yet?”

Everyone nodded, and they fell right back into battle.

It wasn’t often they took the game off the DnD board, but the weather was perfect, summer beginning to make itself known a little earlier than usual, giving them April days that were clear and perfect and made for the best LARP sessions known to Indiana.

Will aimed a fireball at Max, and launched it right as she darted out of the way. It sailed past her, missing her left hand by less than an inch, and she laughed wildly, raising her pool noodle sword and aiming blow after blow at him.

The bean bag hit the fence and went spiraling awkwardly into the small alley between the house and the old wooden fence

It was Will’s last fireball, and he hurried to retrieve any he could reach, dodging as best as he could around Max’s wild sword-wielding.

She tended to wallop them as hard as she could, somehow knocking the wind out of them with her soft excuse for a sword.

Will scrambled to pick up his bean bag from the overgrown grass and curling weeds, catching his breath quickly in the alley where he couldn’t be seen.

And then a sound drew his attention away from the battle.

It was a soft sound. He wouldn’t have heard it if the rest of the party had been so quietly focused on battling one another less than twenty feet away.

But he did hear it, and his head whipped around to find the source of it.

Steve and Billy.

Against the house.

Kissing.

It was like time stood still.

Like Will had been hit by one of Mage El’s freezing bombs.

Steve had Billy pushed up against the side of the house, their bodies pressed flush together.

Steve was clearly propping up Billy with his body, Billy’s mobility cane, the one he had let them cover in stickers, was laying forgotten on the ground.

Billy’s arms were wrapped around Steve’s shoulders, his hands curled in the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt. Steve had his arms wrapped around Billy’s waist, half holding him close, half not letting him fall without his cane.

They were kissing like they were trying to devour one another, and Will realized that the sound he had heard was a moan.

It wasn’t like seeing Lucas and Max kiss, or Mike or El, or even Nancy and Jonathan.

Seeing Billy and Steve,

Will knew he shouldn’t be seeing them.

He knew this was wrong, and people said two boys kissing was foul and bad.

But this didn’t look anything but, well, loving.

The way Steve was making sure Billy didn’t fall while they kissed, the way sometimes they would pull back and smile, their faces never moving more than a few inches away from one another.

One of Billy’s rough hands left its place clawed in Steve’s t-shirt, reaching forward to brush one thumb clumsily down his cheek.

They pulled back from one another, smiling stupidly, still staring into each other’s eyes.

Billy brushed his thumb down Steve’s cheek again, and Steve moved like he was nuzzling into the touch, turning his head to the right, pressing a kiss to Billy’s rough, scarred palm.

It made Will feel like he was floating in space with nothing keeping him down.

Steve pressed a kiss to Billy’s cheek, then his nose, then his other cheek, and Billy’s cheeks flushed and he giggled, a sound that was so foreign to Billy Hargrove it almost made Will rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing the right person.

And Billy smiled, so calmly and easily.

It made his whole face change. He looked like a completely different person.

And Will realized, he’s never actually seen Billy smile like this.

The only times he’d come close, we tight tiny things that never reached his eyes and were dropped within a second or two.

This was a genuine smile, full of genuine happiness, and god -

They’re in love.

They’re two boys, and they’re standing right in front of Will and they’re in love.

They went back to kissing, moving their heads slowly side to side, their mouths opening and closing and Will was so aware of having never kissed anyone before.

“Will, seriously! I’ve been yelling for you-”

Mike stopped talking the second he rounded the house.

He was stalk still, his mouth hanging open like a dead fish at what he saw.

Will’s heart was thundering against his ribcage, and he tried to push Mike back towards the game, pleading quietly at him to move.

And then the rest of the group was joining them. Faces mirroring Mike’s dead fish expression as they stared, open-mouthed, at Steve and Billy.

Will had his back to them, but in the quiet, he could hear. He could hear the soft sounds and the moans, and even the giggles that made his face go hot and his stomach do a whole gymnastics routine inside of him.

Will was staring at each of his friends in turn, pleading with them to just turn right around, and continue on with play as nothing had ever interrupted their battle.

Like they haven’t just stumbled on a huge and dangerous secret.

He went as far as to push Lucas, gently shoving him backward saying go! Go! Under his breath.

The last thing he needed was for Steve and Billy to notice them here. To realize what they had seen. What they know.

And then-

“What the fuck?”

Billy and Steve broke apart, looking towards the entrance of the alley, and seeing all six of the party, staring at them.

Max had been the one to speak, and she was looking at Billy oddly, almost like she didn’t know who he was.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, her voice quavering slightly.

Billy looked like he wanted to ground to swallow him right up.

Steve scrambled for the forgotten cane, keeping one hand on Billy’s elbow as he crouched down.

The movement made Will’s stomach flop over.

It was practiced.

Once Billy was standing on his own with the cane, Steve approached the kids calmly, his hands raised up like they were all wild animals that might attack at any moment.

“Look, I know how this looks, and you guys can’t-”

“It looks like, you guys were making out .” Dustin’s tone was hollow, and he looked as struck dumb as the rest of them.

“I know, and I mean, yeah. We were, but you need to listen -”

“Steve.”

Steve whipped right around when he heard the murmur.

Billy was standing slumped over against the house, one scarred, shaking hand covering his face, the other clutched so tightly to his cane his knuckles were white.

“Bill, I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’re okay.” Steve rushed to Billy’s side, holding onto his elbow again, brushing his fingers softly through Billy’s short hair, winding his fingers through the wild curls that were just long enough to form. “I’ll deal with this. It’s okay. They’re not going to tell.” Steve glared at the kids when he said that, as if daring them to argue.

Billy kinda, fell forward, leaning against Steve once again, his face going into Steve’s neck.

Steve didn’t react, still brushing his fingers through sandy blond curls.

“You all know what could happen to us if people found out?”

Nobody answered him.

Truth is, they did know.

They knew the stories about young men being beaten nearly to death. Being run out of town or put in the hospital over nothing but a rumor.

Being gay wasn’t something that was tolerated in Hawkins.

Hell, Will himself has been pushed around and called queer as long as he could remember.

Even by his own father.

“We won’t tell anyone.” Will felt like how Billy looked. Like he was shaking apart right in front of them. “I promise. We won’t. Not anyone.” He could barely get the words out. It was like his jaw had locked up with the rest of his bones.

He thinks it would kill him if anything happened to Billy and Steve over this. They needed to keep them safe.

He needed to keep them safe.

“Yeah. I promise,” El parroted. Steve beamed at them.

Will knew El had been very confused the first time she heard about Ryan Anderson, the high school sophomore that had been humiliated and beaten so badly his family had to leave town six years ago.

She didn’t understand how a boy that liked to kiss other boys was something that merited violence.

Hopper had surprised them all by saying that it didn’t, but some people felt like it did.

Who you kiss doesn’t matter as much as who you are. If you’re a good person, it’s all just extra fodder. But some people like to they’re better than anyone that’s different than they are.

El had called those people bad and that was the end of it.

“Billy, I won’t tell.” Max didn’t take her eyes off Billy while she spoke. “I swear. I’ll never tell anyone. Not even mom.”

Billy’s hand flexed on the handle of the cane, and his knees gave a wobble. Steve kept him upright, leaning over to murmur into his ear.

Will could just barely make out the words I’ve got you.

“I promise, too.” Dustin’s cereal box/lute was forgotten on the grass at his feet. “The party protects each other. It’s one of our laws.”

“Yeah, we stick together. This isn’t different.” Max gave Lucas a watery smile when he spoke up in turn.

Mike was quiet.

It was well-known how much he disliked both Steve and Billy.

All of the kids had some trouble trusting Billy after everything that had happened last summer. Billy didn’t seem to blame them. He kept to himself, even when he moved from his cold room in the military hospital into the Byers’ spare bedroom seven months ago, he was like a ghost moving through the house.

Only Steve could make him come out of his shell in those early days. Only Steve could make Billy join them for dinner and movie nights, take slow walks around the yard with his walker, and later with his cane. Only Steve could make Billy’s shoulders relax from their defensive position up around his ears, and now, it was finally dawning on everyone why.

The kids mostly left him alone, only Max and El bridging the gap and actually speaking to him. Max had been determined to see Billy through his recovery, glaring at him and watching like a ginger hawk while he did his physical therapy, practicing his grip and moving buttons from one bowl to another.

El would sometimes talk to Billy in a hushed voice. She would get him on his own and hush words like Papa and Mama and bad and Billy would have to retreat to his bedroom for slowly decreasing amounts of time.

Nobody but Joyce and Hopper knew what she saw in Billy’s head. They were just informed that he wouldn't be returning home after his two-month stint in the military hospital. Max hard clenched her jaw and nodded jerkily and nobody dared ask any further questions.

He and Will traded a lot of good mornings and tended to generally avoid eye contact when they came across one another in the house.

But none of them hated him, they were just a little weary.

Mike, on the other hand, had some unexplained vendetta against both Billy and Steve and Will found himself willing Mike to be kind in this moment. To not see this as some power over them, or something.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Dustin’s right. We protect each other.”

Steve gave them a smile that was so dazzling and bright, it almost gave off its own light.

His eyes were shining and he gave a watery laugh.

“They really meant it when they said children are the future.”

“Who said?” El asked him.

“I don’t know, actually. Just people, I guess.” Steve shrugged, jostling Billy who was still nestled in his shoulder. “Look, seriously guys, thank you. I can’t even imagine how I would’ve felt if-nevermind.” He cut himself off quickly, shaking his head. “It just means a lot. To both of us.” Steve smiled at them one last time, this time much softer and thoughtful. “You’re good kids.”

Nobody said anything else. They didn’t know what to say to Steve.

“I came back here to get my fireballs. I, uh, I got ‘em.”

Everyone looked back at Will, and, almost like they were coming out of a trance, began picking their makeshift weapons back off the grass, and chattering idly as they went back to the yard in order to continue their battle.

Will lingered for a second, looking over his shoulder at Steve and Billy, who were still wound together.

They were talking softly, and Will was pleased to see Billy lift his head back up, still looking pale and nervous, but smiling at Steve.

He leaned back down and planted a kiss on Steve’s neck, right above the edge of his t-shirt.

Will felt his face go hot, and tugged himself away, going back to the game.

It wasn’t until well after dinner, when everyone else had gone home, that they spoke about it again.

Will. Will! Do you copy? Over.

The static rasping of Mike’s voice through the walkie-talkie was coming from under Will’s bed where he had stashed it.

He quickly turned down the volume dial on the side before answering.

“Yeah, Mike. I copy. Over.”

“We need to talk about today,” Mike said through the walkie. “I mean, did you have any idea? Over.”

“No. I didn’t,” Will said, truthfully. Finding out had made a lot of things clunk into place, but that doesn’t mean Will knew. “Over.”

“It’s just, neither of them seem the type. You know? Over.”

Something about that statement didn’t sit too right with Will.

Before he could respond another voice crackled through the channel.

“This is gold leader joining the conversation to let Mike know he’s being a dick. Over.”

Will laughed. Trust Dustin to listen in on the conversation and come forward to defend Steve.

“Lucas, do you copy, too? Over.” Will waited a moment after he asked.

“Yeah, I copy. I wanted to hear what you all were saying first. I don’t really know what to think about all this. Over.”

“I don’t think there’s much to think about. Steve seems happy. Billy too, I guess. Over,” said Dustin.

Will’s heart swelled with a pride he didn’t quite understand at Dustin’s words.

Outside in the hall, the phone rang.

Will heard his mom scramble to pick it up, calling softly down the hall for Billy, and the unmistakable thumping of Billy and his cane coming to take the call.

He heard his mom scrape a chair over for him and retreat to her room, giving him some privacy.

“It’s just scary, you know? Like, something really bad could happen to them if anyone else found out.” Will thought for a second. “You think anyone else knows? Over.”

“Robin. She was making comments to Steve a few days ago about his secret relationship and I kept asking him about it until he punched me in the arm. She knows. Over.”

“I’m just confused,” Mike sighed down the line. “Steve dated my sister for like, a year. And Billy is always disgusting and flirting with my mom. Or at least, he would do that. You know, before. Over.”

“Yeah, that’s just Billy being Billy,” Max chimed in.

“You have to say over when you’re finished. Over.”

“ Fine, dickheads. Over.”

“That makes sense, but Steve and Nancy doesn’t. Over.”

“Lucas, it doesn’t have to make sense. David Bowie says he likes guys and girls. Billy has, like, three different magazines where he says that. Over.”

“Max is right. We don’t have to understand any of this. They seem happy, and good together, and that doesn’t really concern us. Over.” Will was hoping he could speed through the rest of this conversation. He could hear Billy in the hall, shifting and murmuring something Will couldn’t make out but was dying to overhear.

He had a feeling he knew who was calling.

“But, now it does concern us. We know. And as we’ve previously established, the more people that know, the more danger they could be in. Over .” Dustin almost sounded as though he might cry.

“Then, we can’t talk about it. Not unless we know for a fact that we aren’t going to be overheard. And maybe we should give them codenames. Only call them something like Han and Leia when there’s a chance of someone listening in. Over.”

“I like Lucas’s codename idea, but I’d rather die than call them Han and Leia. Over.”

“Okay, Mike, it was the first thing that came into my head! What, you think you have a better idea? Over.”

“I don’t know. Harold and Maude? Over.”

“That’s stupid, Mike. Clearly, they’re Bert and Ernie. Over.”

Will snorted at Max’s suggestion. He heard Billy coughing wildly in the hall. He listened carefully to him until it died down and he knew it wasn’t a bad one.

“I think we’ve come to an agreement. If we need further discussion, codenames: Bert and Ernie. Okay, my mom wants me to spend time with her tonight. So this is gold leader, signing off. Over and out.”

“I’m going too. Over and out,” Mike said.

“Over and out,” said El, not surprising any of them that she was listening in. She did that a lot. Simply listen to her own walkie, and when asked why she didn’t say anything would shrug and go nothing to add. They only asked that she sign off so that they knew she got whatever information they had discussed.

Everyone followed with their own sign-offs, and Will twisted the top knob on his walkie, shutting it off.

There was a moment of silence out in the hall, and then three beats on Will’s door.

He found Billy on the other side, slumped in the chair under the phone, his cheeks going red.

“Can’t get up,” he grunted. “Can’t reach the hook.”

Will didn’t say anything, nodding quickly and avoiding eye contact as he took the phone, placing it carefully back on the hook.

Billy got stuck in chairs fairly often.

His core muscles had been slashed up worse than anything else, and sometimes he just needed a good pull up.

Will took hold of his wrist, leaning his body weight backward to yank Billy to standing.

Billy kept his weight heavily on his cane, patting Will once on the upper arm in thanks.

“You guys know Steve has one of your little walkie-talkies, right?”

“ What ?”

Will genuinely didn’t know that.

“Dustin gave him one. I don’t know when, but he’s got it.”

“So, uh, so he heard. Everything.”

“And relayed it all to me through an embarrassing amount of tears, by the sounds of it.”

But Will could see that Billy’s eyes were brighter than usual in the dark, and suddenly Will remembered that there had been a wet spot on Billy’s sleeve.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I mean, well, you’re good kids. All of you.” Billy patted him on the shoulder again. “I was shitting myself out there when you found us. Thought for sure one a’ yous would go squealing.”

“Maybe we would’ve. Before.”

“Never thought I’d be grateful for nearly being turned inside-out.”

“And I never thought I’d be grateful for being found dead in the water, but here we are.”

“Yeah, shit’s pretty weird if you stop and think about it for a few minutes. Near-death experiences really put your sexuality in perspective.”

“Is that why you two started dating? Perspective?”

Billy huffed a breath, looking up towards the ceiling. He coughed twice, and Will could pretty much hear his lungs rattle and crackle.

“Yeah. ‘S why we started dating. Both of us kinda realized there’s no sense in feeling like shit about the things that can actually make you feel not like shit.”

“So, you’re in love? Both of you?”

Billy’s cheeks were flooded with color, the deep red spreading all the way back to the tips of his ears.

“I think so. We’re both a little too fucked in the head to say it, but,” he shrugged lamely, not bothering to finish his thought, and looking anywhere but at Will.

He gets it, though.

Fucked up parents make for fucked up kids.

Will considered himself the luckiest person on Earth, and any kinda parallel universe, that he had his mom to stop, and later heal, all the damage his dad had caused.

“Well, I’m glad that you have it. Both of you. I mean, we saw you guys. And after everything, it's good that you’re happy.” And Will meant it.

Even before last summer, he had never seen Billy look the way he did when he was kissing Steve. Look that calm, and relaxed, and that goddamn happy. It really meant something.

Especially to Will.

Because he had never thought of someone looking that happy when they kissed someone else.

He had never thought of a boy looking that happy when he kissed another boy.

Billy surveyed Will for a moment, still leaning heavily on his cane in the hallway.

Will had the suspicion that Billy could see right through him.

“He came to visit me a lot when I was in the hospital. Steve, I mean. I don’t know why he did. It’s not like we were friends or anything. But one of those days, when I was barely awake he started talking about everything that happened those couple days.” Billy shifted closer to the wall, bracing himself with one hand as he lowered himself back into the chair. “The Russians. I don’t know what he’s told you kids, but it wasn’t pretty.”

“He hasn’t said anything. I mean, we all saw how he looked after, so we figured maybe he got in a fight.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip.

“Look, you gotta swear not to tell any of the others this, but, uh, it was a bit more than a fight.”

Billy was giving him a meaningful look and something churned around in Will’s stomach.

“Torture?”

Billy gave a tiny, shaky nod.

“He started talking about it. Said after that, he started thinkin’ about shit different. Said he thought he was gonna die down there and that nothing would change without him. It was heavy, and I was mostly feeling the same way, and I think that’s why he told me. Knew that I could get it. After that he kept visiting, and I noticed that I didn’t hurt as much when he was there. Or maybe I did, but having him there, squinting at the t.v. ‘cause he can’t see worth a’ shit, or making some stupid comment about a nurse on the floor just made it easier. He makes a lotta shit easier.”

“I think that’s what it should be like. I don’t think love should make things harder.” Will thought of his mom and dad, and how different she acted with Hopper.

Like she didn’t hurt as much when he was there.

“It was hard in the beginning. I mean, before we got together. I thought that he didn’t feel the same way, you know? That I was just being an idiot, feeling like that for my best friend. But then he told me. He’s always been a lot braver than people give him credit for. Anyway, he told me, and it should’ve been fucking terrifying. And I was scared of people finding out. Still am, but it’s like, even if we get run outta town, and everyone we care about turns against us, it’ll be fine because we’re not just me an’ him, we’re us .”

Billy blinked quickly, almost as if he was surprised by his own words.

They clanged around in Will’s head.

We’re not just me an’ him, we’re us.

“You don’t have to be scared, though. I mean, of people finding out. Of turning against you both. We won’t let that happen. Not about something like this.”

Billy gave him a weak smile.

“I guess it makes sense. I mean, you all took me in after killing half the town. Tracks that you wouldn’t throw me out for. Being gay.”

“There are worse things to be than gay.”

“Psycho killer not one of them?”

Will gave Billy as unimpressed of a stare as he could muster.

“That wasn’t you. You forget, I know what it was like to have him controlling me. I know what it’s like to not do anything to stop him, even when you are fighting with everything you’ve got. I nearly killed my mom. I even might have, if I’d been stronger. You fought against him, and in the end, you won. I never could’ve done that.”

Billy just stared at the wall slightly above Will’s left shoulder.

“I killed people, too. When he had me. Led a whole group of people right into a trap. And it still scares me what he did. But I know that it wasn’t me that did it. It wasn’t you that did any of that, Billy.”

“I tell myself that. Hell, Steve tells me that about every five minutes. Just hard to watch yourself doing that awful shit and not be able to tell your body to knock it off.”

Will didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.

Billy was right. It was a nightmare watching yourself hurt people around you, feeling like you were in the backseat, screaming at yourself to stop.

But Billy had done what Will couldn’t’ve.

Right at that last moment, he stood up to the thing controlling his every move.

Stood up to that horrific flesh monster, adn died rather than let it kill El.

El, who he didn’t even know.

And then Billy’s bedroom door down the hall opened slowly, and Steve poked his head into the hall, swearing under his breath when he saw someone in the hall with Billy and trying to duck out of sight, knocking the back of his head into the doorframe and swearing again.

Billy laughed, a low wheezy laugh that ended in a short coughing fit.

“Real fuckin’ subtle, Harrington,” he choked out.

The door opened once more and Steve stepped out into the hallway, trying to look casual.

“I didn’t realize it was you there, Will. How’s it goin’?”

Billy laughed again, and gestured for Steve to come and help him stand up.

Steve did so quickly, smiling warmly at Billy when he had righted him on his feet, and keeping hold of Billy’s arm.

“Why are you sneakin’ in my window like some kinda perv?”

“Because I wanted to talk. I have a lot of emotions today.” Steve turned to address Will. “You kids are gonna be the death of me. And I mean that in the nicest way I possibly can.”

“Yeah, well. You guys are family.” Will shrugged, feeling very awkward when both Steve and Billy. Looked as though their eyes were overbright. Will panicked, trying to think of an exit strategy before he saw either of them cry.

He had seen them both in too many intimate moments today.

“Um, I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m gonna go to bed. Let me know if you need, uh, help tomorrow. You know, heading of my mom or anything.”

Will turned on his heel and slipped back into his own bedroom.

“Alright, Bert. It’s been a long day and I’m gonna need some help getting into bed. My legs have gone totally stiff.”

“Oh, in no way am I Bert! I’m totally Ernie. You’re Bert. Think about it: you’re surly, and rude, and-”

“Gonna dump you if you don’t shut up and help me go to bed.”

“Spoken like a true Bert.”

#the big schmoop #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #i thinkg this was for #harringrove for palestine #but i really can't remember #idk merlin donated some money somehweere and i wrote this 💕

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Seven: Humanity

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, reader is a virgin.

Word count: 6,300>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Seven - Next

Max stood outside, his back pressed against his car. He closed his eyes as the morning sun warmed his skin - only it felt more like an unpleasant, burning sensation. He felt a fire of anguish rife within him. He was furious. How had he let all this happen? How had little Maxwell Lorenzano let this happen? He scrunched up his nose in disdain as a single tear slipped from his eye and rolled down his cheek. He had nobody to blame but himself, and that’s what hurt the  most. He had come so close to losing everything. He could still lose everything. You had preached to him about how Diana was symbolic of hope and that she’d never judge him, yet, Max couldn’t help but feel like she was judging him. When she told him that the consequences of his actions lay in his fate with Alistair. And in that moment, he felt so undeserving. He was a bad man who had done bad things and maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be a father. Maybe Alistair would be better off with Julianna. Maxwell found himself losing hope.

You were still inside, looking over some documents about Dolos’ dreamstone that Diana had been collecting. She explained to you that most of it had been provided by her old friend, Dr Barbara Minerva. Dr Minerva was a gemologist, according to Diana, who had looked into Romulus’ dreamstone just a few days ago. “Where is she now?” you asked Diana as your finger traced the sketch of the stone. At least you knew what exactly you were looking for. A gorgeous citrine stone with Greek scripture engraved into it.

Diana smiled faintly, but the glaze in her dark eyes were not lost on you. “She’s gone.” Diana whispered, looking into the distance. 

“Oh Diana, I’m so sorry,” you frowned, placing a gentle and comforting hand in the small of Diana’s back. “Did Max know her?”

Diana took a sharp breath. “Yes.” she said coldly, before spinning around on her heel and walking over to her desk. You wanted to prod further and find out more but you noticed how stand off-ish Diana had become over your brief mention of Max and his relationship with Barbara. You figured it might not be best to push it. At least not right now.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about Maxwell and you were aware that he had been standing outside for quite a long while. You hoped that he was okay. You sighed, taking Diana and Barbara’s research and composing it into a pile for you to take away. “I should be going then. If we want to catch the flight to Athens.” you shrugged with a caring smile. Diana glanced back at you. 

“Did my mother grant you permission to come here?” Diana asked, quirking her eyebrow.

You bit your lip nervously. “No,” you admitted. “Queen Hippolyta believed I was foolish for wanting to come here. I told her I had my calling but she didn’t care. My mother Hestia granted me a secret passage. Queen Hippolyta hasn’t been the same since you left.” 

Diana nodded knowingly before saying your name gently, almost cautiously. “My mother didn’t grant you permission to come to the world of man because you’re too powerful.” Diana informed you. Her face hardened and she had become incredibly serious. You knotted your eyebrows in bewilderment and slowly shook your head.

“I- I don’t understand.” you said weakly. Too powerful for the world of man?

“You are the daughter of Zeus and Hestia. You are a goddess,” Diana smiled, cupping your face with her hand. “I’m only a demi-God, I have half the power you have. I can be here. But to have a whole Goddess walking on this earth, utilizing her powers… you’re playing a dangerous game. I’ve read about this in ancient Amazonian mythology. It would lead to the world’s destruction.” Diana explained quietly. “I would never want to harm this world.” you reassured Diana, pulling out of her grip and narrowing your eyes in disbelief. 

“I know,” Diana hushed you. “I know you would never want to harm this world. But it’s not about what you want. It’s about the inevitable. Do you think Maxwell wanted to cause all the death and destruction? All the hate and war?”

“No of course not.” you replied.

“But he did. And now he’s… dealing with the aftermath. You might be here to help Maxwell and that’s okay. That is your duty. But you cannot stay. You must return to Themyscira once this is over with. You have to.”

“Yes but Max-” you began to protest but Diana cut you off.

“Once you fulfill your calling and bring him and Alistair together, you will have satisfied your duty as the goddess of home and hearth. You have no reason to stay, right?”

She was right. No reason to stay. But shit- you had become so attached to Max Lord and his son, you never even considered the fact you might have to leave them. It wasn’t even a ‘might’. You were going to have to leave them eventually and you didn’t have long at all. “Right,” you confirmed sadly, but trying to remain as composed as possible. “But I don’t even know how to get back to Themyscira.” you sighed.

Diana grabbed the rope of your lasso and traced the patterned ridges in between her father. “By combining both our lassos, I can create a one-way portal back home. When all this is over, you know where to find me,” Diana promised. Your heart ached. You felt nauseous. And you knew now you had to go outside and face Maxwell. You had to tell him. Your mind was racing as you wondered how he’d react to the news. “I know how you feel...” Diana said softly before looking out the window and into the sky above. “Once you’re back home, you’ll miss him. You’ll think about Max every single day. Just like I think about Steve.”

You didn’t even know how to answer, you were hurting too much. You knew Diana was only looking out for you and what was best for the world of man, but this wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t you stay? Why did you have to leave Maxwell? You picked up the papers and held them close to your chest. “I’ll see you in Athens, Diana.” was all you said, before leaving the Smithsonian.

Maxwell saw you approaching before you set eyes on him. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath before giving you a small wave so you knew where he had parked his car. As he caught your attention, a bout of relief washed over you. He was beautiful - his hair golden under the sun and the gold rings on his fingers sparkling as the rays of light bounced off them. He made you feel safe and happy. But as you got closer to him, you began to feel afraid. Leaving him was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

The car ride to the airport was difficult. Maxwell hadn’t put the radio on this time, and so the journey was filled with an unwelcome silence. Every few minutes you would take a shaky exhale and try and work up the courage to tell him what Diana had told you. About how you couldn’t stay. You had to leave. But even before you said anything, you could cut the tension with a knife. He wasn’t okay and you knew it.

-----

“Flight RD270401 from Washington D.C. to Athens, Greece, is now boarding from gate 8.” echoed the airport speakers overhead. With your hand pressed against the cold window glass, you looked in awe at the airplane. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You looked back at Maxwell, who was pinching the bridge of his nose, talking to one of the airport employees. She was clearly saying something he had no interest in hearing. He shook his head to whatever she had told him, and he wiggled his finger at her. The conversation ended with him signing an autograph for her and then sauntering towards you.

You had managed to swindle your way past passport security thanks to your trusted lasso of Hestia, but Maxwell was still anxious you'd somehow get stuck in Athens without a passport and wouldn't be able to return to D.C. back in time for the court hearing. You tried reassuring him that everything would be alright, but he had a stubborn mind and he was already worked up from what Diana had told him earlier. That the consequence of his actions lied in the fate of his and Alistair's relationship. He knew that couldn't be good.

“She changed our one-way plane tickets to return tickets, so we have two days to get the dreamstone and then we must head back to D.C.” Maxwell informed you with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. Only two days in Greece, and then it was back home to prepare for court. And then you had to go. He had barely spoken to you since the museum. You understood his stress and you missed hearing his sweet voice, but you didn't want to push him to talk about what happened back there if he wasn't ready.

"What did it cost you?" you asked hesitantly. 

"She just wanted an autograph and my number," Maxwell shrugged, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the airplane. He was trying to read the docking gate number. "Come on, that's our flight."

Even though Diana had clearly explained that the world had forgotten about the broadcast, he couldn’t shake his guilty conscience. It felt strange- people still approaching him and asking him for autographs, giving him attention. It only added to his feeling of shame.

Maxwell walked hurriedly and you felt like you were practically chasing after him. There was hardly a rush. The airplane had just landed. "Your number?" you asked curiously.

"So she can call me." Maxwell explained further, his voice stone cold and emotionless. His comment was abrupt and to the point. It wasn’t a big deal. She might have believed she had a chance to go on a date with Maxwell Lord, but she really didn’t, and Maxwell knew that. He had more important things going on, and besides, his mind was already unwillingly preoccupied with you. 

"Why would she want to do that?" you asked and Maxwell scoffed. He knew you weren’t accustomed to the nature of exchanging numbers and what that meant, but his frustration was increasing by the second. The thought of getting on a flight made him feel anxious and uneasy. He hadn’t been on a flight since he used the President’s chopper, Marine One, to fly to the bunker. Every little thing was reminding him of the incident and it was traumatic. Maxwell hadn’t even prepared himself for the chance of coming into contact with the dreamstone again.

"Jesus, do you have to question everything?" Maxwell snapped, abruptly halting in his footsteps and turning to you. You froze, your blood running cold as you sensed his anger. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling timid, and ducked your head down. He shouted at you, and the ferocity in his voice made you feel small and vulnerable. "I'm sorry," Max sighed when he saw the change in your conduct. His heart sank in his chest, knowing that he was to blame for your demeanor. Just like he was to blame for everything else. "Let's just get seated, okay?"

You didn't reply, but followed him to gate 8 in silence as you queued up to get your tickets checked so you could board. Everything about this experience was brand new and awe-inspiring. You had watched many airplanes jet off into the sky and fly into the clouds above. Despite being so far away from home, you found comfort in knowing that both you and the Amazons were underneath the same sky. You had never felt so close to them.

Maxwell was truly more than happy to help you find the dreamstone. He knew it was something you needed to do, and after all, you were helping him with Alistair. You had warned him that if you didn't find the dreamstone, it could cause the world to end. The world had almost ended just a few days ago before Max had renounced his wish. It was serious. But to Max, all that mattered was Alistair. Even if you successfully destroyed the dreamstone, if he lost custody of Alistair then his life would be over. Alistair was his whole world. His only reason. He couldn't lose him. His life depended on it.

Just as you got strapped in, a flight attendant walked by. "Ah, are you two on your honeymoon?" she smiled, her blue eyes glittering. "Two seats in first class have just opened up, if you'd like." 

"Yes!" Maxwell exhaled sharply, unclipping his belt and then reaching down to your lap unclip yours and pull you up. He needed the luxury of first class. It brought him a sense of normality. 

“What’s a honeymoon?” you hissed, looking around the cabin.

“Just pretend we’re married, okay?” Maxwell hissed back before putting on a fake smile to present his charming exterior.

As the air hostess guided you to first class, she swooned over Maxwell.

“I love your infomercials,” she cooed, placing her hand on his arm and tracing the curve of his bicep. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in your chest. “The part where you’re on a yacht and you say that thing about how you don’t need a business degree to get started is so inspiring. And sexy.” she sighed longingly, fluttering her dark eyelashes.

Before Max could reply, you grabbed his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly with shock. Maybe he was always going to be taken aback by your touch. You made him feel a way he had never felt before. 

“Yes,” you smiled leaning over to take her hand off Maxwell. “My husband is very talented.”

There was no denying the way Max’s heart raced at your words. He swore he’d never remarry after Julianna. He’d also sworn that he’d never fall in love again. But then you came into his life and things changed. For a second, he actually imagined what it would be like to marry you. He imagined a life where he could show you off on his arm. He could treat you, spoil you, kiss you all day and all night. He imagined you looking over Alistair. He had already become familiar with the maternal side of you. As his mind wandered, he imagined the possibility of you giving him some more children. He cursed himself for letting himself get carried away; lost in thoughts that could never happen.

About an hour later, you were finally in the air and looking over Diana’s documents about Dolos’ dreamstone, provided by Dr Minerva. Maxwell was slumped against the blue velveteen chair, his legs spread as he nursed a glass of whiskey and picked at some peanuts. You sighed, feeling defeated. Your mind was overcome by all this new-found knowledge about the stone and you just wanted to relax. If you could do anything, you’d curl into Maxwell’s lap and fall asleep in his strong arms. But there was one thing preying on your mind. One thing you still needed to tell him.

“How are you feeling?” you asked quietly, and Maxwell looked up at you, his chocolate brown eyes meeting yours.

“Better,” he admitted with a small smile. “Athens is very beautiful. I think you’ll like it,” Your heart warmed knowing that he was feeling better. It was probably due to his intake of alcohol but nevertheless, his anxiety had eased and that’s all that mattered. Maxwell took a deep breath and tried to repress the smirk that was threatening to play on his lips. “You’re beautiful. Come here,” he said, patting his thigh. You bit your lip and walked over to Max, sliding down and sitting in his lap. He wrapped his arm around your body and pressed a soft kiss into your neck. Whiskey always gave him a boost of confidence but nothing had ever felt so right. You belonged in his arms. You belonged with him. He dragged his tongue up your skin and pressed a kiss into your jaw, nibbling at you gently with his teeth. You hummed in delight, loving the way his lips felt against you. “I am so glad you’re here,” Maxwell admitted, looking into your eyes. “I’m so glad you came into my life. I don’t know what I’d be doing if you weren’t here. I don’t know how I’d cope.” he confessed before pressing another kiss into you.

Your blood ran cold at his words. He might not know what he’d do without you, but he’d have to learn. You couldn’t stay with him in DC no matter how much you wanted to and he was going to have to learn to accept that. You had to tell him. It was now or never.

You pulled away from his lips and smoothed your hands over his hair. You noticed the way his roots were a dark brown colour and thought about how it faded into a dirty blonde. Did he dye his hair? You remembered your vision of him when he was younger and he had dark brown hair. That was why you hadn’t recognised him as Lorenzano. You still had so many questions to ask him but so little time.

“Max...” you croaked as tears pricked your eyes. 

“Hey, what is it?” Maxwell cooed, rubbing circles into your back. You rest your head on his shoulder. You really were in love with him.

But you had to suck up your feelings. You closed your eyes. “I can’t stay,” you revealed, taking a deep breath. When Max didn’t reply, you managed to bring yourself to open your eyes and look at him, trying to judge his reaction. “Diana said I can’t stay.”

Maxwell was perplexed. He looked at you, then looked at his surroundings on the airplane and then looked back at you. “You can’t stay where? D.C.?”

“The world of man,” You sighed, playing with his hair. It was so difficult to read Maxwell’s expression. It felt like he was frozen in time. “She said I’m a goddess and I’m too powerful to stay. I could accidentally cause the world’s destruction.” you scoffed at how ridiculous Diana’s claim sounded, but deep down, you knew it made sense. She was your princess and you had to trust her, no matter what.

“But- what- how- what?” Maxwell exclaimed. He felt sick. He didn’t understand, but his stomach was in knots. There was a chance he was going to lose Alistair, and now you were going to leave him too. Maybe this is what he deserved, but he didn’t like it one bit. You had only just come into his life and you were like a blessing in disguise. Now you were going to leave?

“Max,” you whimpered, letting the tears drip down your face. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go back home. I want to stay here with you and Alistair.” you sniffed, pressing your palm flat against his chest. Seeing you cry was pushing him to cry.

“Don’t go,” he begged, shaking his head. “There must be a way you can stay. A loophole or something.”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head in defeat. “I wasn’t even meant to come here. Our queen denied my request but my mother granted me passage to the world of man. She shouldn’t have, but she just wanted me to complete my calling and fulfil my duty as the goddess of home and hearth.”

“Hey, we’ll figure something out okay?” Max reassured, but his expression showed anything but assurity.

“We can’t,” you sobbed. Your tears were beginning to dampen his shirt but he didn't care. He held you close and tight as if it was going to be the last time. “I have to go.” you confirmed, hating the way the words sounded as they parted your lips.

“How long do we have?” Maxwell asked you, letting a tear slip down his cheek. You gasped and quickly wiped his tear away with your thumb.

“No longer than a week. Five days, maybe. As soon as the court case is over. As soon as you gain custody of Alistair, I must go.” you informed Max, exhaling shakily as you fought for composure. Max shook his head profusely in disbelief.

“I wish we had more time.” he choked out, resting his forehead against yours, his grip around you tightening. 

You stayed in Maxwell’s arms for the rest of the journey. You’d both even fallen asleep at one point. When you landed in Athens, everything still felt bittersweet. The sky was dark and it was in the middle of the night. The resort was isolated but Maxwell was right, it was beautiful. Pearly white stars pierced the sky and small waves rippled through the turquoise tranquil waters. You followed your guide group to the hotel in silence. 

“I don’t want this to ruin our trip, or ruin our final few days together.” Maxwell whispered as you queued in the lobby for the key to your hotel room.

“Me neither,” you hummed, resting your head on his shoulder and taking his hand. “I love your hands.” you whispered back, tracing his fingers and brushing over his knuckles.

“Yeah?” he asked, his breath hitching as you brought his hand up to your lips.

“Yeah.” you confirmed.

-----

“We only have five days until this is all over.” you purred, tugging on Maxwell’s shirt and falling backwards onto the bed. You giggled when you heard the springs in the mattress go as Maxwell hovered above you. Your hands found Max’s cheeks and you looked him in the eyes.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” Maxwell admitted although his tone was low, gravely and almost dark as he planted sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He never wanted this moment to end - or any moment that he shared with you, for that matter. Nothing had changed. You still revelled in the way he kissed you and the way his touch erupted a frenzy of butterflies in your stomach.

“Me too,” you huffed, bringing your hands down to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. “But all I know is that I want to make every second that I’m with you count. I never want to forget this, Maxwell Lord.” you smiled, pulling him down to kiss you again. He moaned as your tongues intertwined and he guided his large hands over your frame.

As you made out, you relished the way he touched you and your bodies moved together in sync. It was like they were made for each other. That Zeus had sculpted you to fit with Maxwell Lord; to be with him, guide him, and love him when he didn’t feel loved. Maxwell had always laughed off the concept of ‘soulmates’, seeing himself as nothing more than an independent, stone cold businessman. But maybe, after all this time, he was wrong. In the past week he’d learned so much about himself, and what really mattered. You were teaching him that it was okay to rely on others for comfort and affection.

You reminded yourself of the reason you were in Greece. You had to focus on obtaining the dreamstone. It was important, but with this clash of tongues and teeth and Maxwell Lord on top of you, it was easy to forget about why you had come to Athens in the first place. Sure, destroying the remaining dreamstone was important, but so was Maxwell.

“There’s something I want to know,” you huffed, drawing away from him for just a second to regain your breath. “During my time studying the world of man, I took particular interest in family and babies, probably due to me being the goddess of home and hearth. I spent a lot of time studying babies and… how they’re made. The history books describe it as beautiful. An indescribable pleasure that you know I’ve never experienced before. There are no men on Themyscira. But I want to feel it. I want to feel the pleasure and I want you to show me. Please Max. Show me.” you whispered, bucking your hips upwards and rolling yourself over his crotch. You’d thought about it a lot, maybe even just as much as he’d thought about you in that way. You already knew you trusted him, especially with something like this. 

His brown eyes turned a whole shade darker with lust as he slid his hands under your shirt.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, wanting to make absolute sure you certainly wanted this.

“I am,” you confirmed. “But only if you want to too.”

“I do,” Maxwell nodded, his lips curving into a smile. “Believe me, I really do.” 

You grinned ecstatically, kissing him again and moaning into his mouth when he squeezed your breast, just like he'd done the previous night when you were both making out in his bed. He knew you liked it. “Let me take this off,” Maxwell groaned and you nodded, stretching your arms in the air so he could pull your shirt off you. “Fuck, you're so perfect.” he whispered to himself, as he stared down at your bare chest. He leaned in and kissed between the valley of your breasts. He peppered kisses along the soft plushness and licked a stripe along your hardening nipple. As he cared for your breast with his lips, he fondled your other breast with his hand, squeezing it lovingly before switching it up again. He was so skilled at this. He knew all the right ways to make you feel good.

Soon, you began to feel that familiar fire heat up in your core. The same fire you had felt when you were kissing him in his own bed. Your new panties felt like they were soaked with your arousal as he peppered kisses down your stomach and to the hem of your pants. “How do you feel?” Max asked you, looking up with concern. He just wanted to make sure you were still okay with this. He cared about you so much.

"Nervous, but excited," you exclaimed. "Will- will it hurt?"

"It might, just a little. Might be slightly uncomfortable at first. But if it gets too much you can tell me, okay?" Maxwell reassured, kissing the lobe of your ear. "I'd never ever want to hurt you honey."

"I know," you smiled, running your fingers through his soft locks of hair. "But first, let me take care of you."

Unsure what you even meant, Maxwell doubled back. You were new to this, inexperienced, and yet he found himself intrigued by what you meant when you said 'take care'. You shuffled out from beneath him and kneeled on the mattress. You unbuttoned Maxwell's shirt and tossed it on the floor, and then unzipped his pants. As you pulled down the silver zipper, you noticed the imprint of his bulge pressed against the tight tailored pants. It was long, thick, and achingly hard, precum already beading at his tip. You subconsciously licked your lips and Maxwell chuckled over your eagerness. It was adorable. But his laughter was cut short into a choked moan as you traced the shape of it through the material, gently with your index finger. "You look so big…" you trailed off, biting your lip nervously. 

"Take off my pants and find out." Maxwell urged and you nodded your head. You pulled down his pants and his cock sprung free, bouncing against his tummy. The head was dark pink in colour and already leaking.

“Wow…” you gasped, wiping his precum and letting it wet your hand before wrapping your fingers around his length and starting to pump him. He tossed his head back and moaned wantonly, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

“You really don’t have to-” Maxwell stiffened up as you kitten-licked the tip of his cock. You let your fingers stroke the base and play with his balls as wrapped your lips around his thickness. “-I-fuck. This is your first-first time. I want to make you feel good.”

You pulled your lips off him with a pop and looked at him with doe eyes. “This feels good for me. Tastes good too.” you promised before sinking your mouth back down onto him, deeper this time. He stretched your mouth so wide your jaw began to ache and you gagged around him. You bopped your head up and down, loving the way his fingers tugged on your hair and the way he bucked his hips deeper into your throat.

“Won’t last,” Maxwell warned. “Fuck. Pull off.” he gasped for breath and you followed his instruction, removing your lips from his throbbing length. He wished he could’ve just spilled his seed down your throat but he wanted to make this as memorable as possible for you. It wasn’t just going to be a quick blowjob. You deserved more.

“How was it?” you asked, pouting your swollen lips. Maxwell leaned in and kissed you, tasting his own saltiness on your tongue.

“Perfect,” he sighed lovingly. “You’re perfect.”

Max gently pushed you down amongst the sheets and discarded the rest of your clothes so you were laying in bed completely naked. He pressed his hand on the apex of your thigh and opened up your legs. His cock jumped when he looked down at your glistening folds. You were already so wet for him and he’d hardly even touched you.

Maxwell kissed up the inside of your thighs, revelling in the softness of your skin. He knew he’d never be able to forget this. As he neared your core, your heart began to race with anticipation. Max pressed a soft kiss into your clit and you let out a gasp that you didn’t even realise you were holding back. You felt Max smirk against you and he separated your folds with his two thumbs. Now that you were completely spread open for him, he began to lick you up and down, his cock twitching as he tasted you. He’d eaten the widest variety of expensive desserts in his lifetime, but you were by far the most delicious thing he’d devoured. Everytime his tongue flicked upwards against your clit, your entire body would involuntarily quiver. He loved it. He loved watching you become putty under his touch. 

He decided to focus more of his mouth on your clit and began to quickly flick his tongue over your bundle of nerves before sucking on it. His moans sent vibrations straight through you and he noticed how your hole began to clench over nothing. He was desperate to fill you up. To feel you. But he had to prep you first. He didn’t stop with the licking, but he did nudge a finger over your hole. You pushed your hips closer to him, wanting more.

“I’m going to finger you now, is that okay?” Maxwell asked, pulling off you. His lips shone with your slick and you swore he had never looked so beautiful.

“Yes please.” you whimpered.

“If it gets too much, tell me.” Maxwell whispered before reattaching his lips to your pussy and poking his index finger into your entrance. He kissed your clit one last time before pulling away and pushing his finger deep into you. He flushed pink as your soft walls tightened around his finger, and he couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel if he replaced his finger with his cock. He watched you in awe, thrusting his finger in and out of you, experimenting and curling it upwards until he was satisfied that he’d located your g-spot. “Sweet girl,” he moaned, watching you intently as you brought your free hand down to rub your clit as he fingered you. “I wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You moaned something incoherent but Maxwell felt his heart race as he took in your appearance. You were a sight he could never forget - all spread out for him, your back arched in pleasure. He pushed his middle finger inside of you, as well as his index finger, and you squealed with pleasure as he stretched you open.

“Oh Max, oh fuck Max.” you whined as obscene wet noises filled the room. He loved the way you said his name. He always had. This whole experience felt like a dream come true.

“So fucking beautiful.” he growled before ducking his head back in between your thighs and continuing to eat you out. With the combination of his tongue and fingers, it wasn’t long at all until your climax washed over you.

Maxwell pulled off you and reached down to stroke his own cock which was achingly hard, desperate for any kind of relief. “I want you inside of me.” you begged, reaching out to pull Max on top of you.

Maxwell leaned over you, propping himself up on his elbows and you shivered as his cock nudged against your entrance. He rolled his hips up and down, his tip rubbing against your folds. He was teasing. You grabbed onto his shoulders and dug your nails into his skin. “Please Max,” you panted. “Make love to me.”

Maxwell moaned at your words and pressed a quick peck to your soft lips before obliging and pushing himself into you.

"How does that feel?" Maxwell murmured, his breath fanning over your neck as he sat himself deep inside of you. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock as waves of pleasure jolted through your body. You knew that the tales had described intercourse as pleasurable but you never imagined it could feel so good.

"I feel so full," you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as your walls adjusted to his length. Max knew the second he started moving he wouldn’t be able to last long. He’d imagined this so much. He’d gone so long without sex. And you were so fucking perfect. "Move, please."

"Ngh— fuck, are you sure?" Maxwell asked, giving your breasts a gentle squeeze. You nodded and Max doubled out slightly before pushing himself back in with a wanton groan. He felt your cunt clench around him. "So fucking tight." he whispered. You bit your lip, wondering what it meant to be ‘tight’ and hoping he was enjoying it as much as you were.

"Is that okay?" You asked, holding onto his bicep for support as he pushed a few shallow thrusts into you.

"More- more than ‘okay’ honey. You’re amazing." He mumbled, his eyes snapping shut. You gasped as you felt every perfect ridge and vein rub against the inside of your walls. "You feel so perfect, sweet girl."

Max brought his hand down to your cunt and began to circle your clit with his thumb, mirroring your own previous actions. The pleasure flooded through your body and you arched your back as he hit your sweet spot. "Mmm," you couldn't even find words. You found your toes curling and your mouth slack as he throbbed inside of you. His fingers worked at you like magic and it wasn't long until your legs began to involuntarily shake. Max could feel your oncoming high too, when your pussy walls squeezed his cock, aching to milk him for all he had. 

"Are you close baby girl?" Maxwell asked, his thumb speeding up and his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. “Oh you are, aren’t you?”

"Maaaax," you groaned, feeling your juices drip down his manhood as he fucked you faster, his balls slapping against your cunt.

"I'm close," He warned, gently biting down on your shoulder. "I'm going to count down from three and- and I want you to let go. Relax. Cum with me." Max ordered and you nodded your head against his sticky, sweaty skin.

"O-okay," you gasped.

"Three, two, one- fuck!" Maxwell exclaimed when your body limped in his arms and your pussy contracted around him, twitching as you reached your climax. He spilled his salty seed inside of you, painting your walls just like he'd painted the bathroom tiles when he'd masturbated over the thought of you previously.

“Oh my- Max, Max, Max,” you chanted as he slowly softened inside you before pulling out. You whimpered at the loss of his fullness and Maxwell rolled off you. You both spent a few moments to regain your breath and you felt his cum leak out of you. You curled up into his tan chest and pressed a kiss into his pink lips. “Thank you Max.” you whispered with gratitude, bumping your nose with his.

He was so in love with you, there was no question about it. If he could, he’d spend the rest of his life doing that. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. The thought of you leaving him was eating Max alive. Maxwell wrapped his arm around you and held you tight, just like he’d done so on the airplane. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, but if you were leaving, it might just make things worse. He leaned over to the nightstand and switched off the lamp.

“Goodnight honey.” he whispered as the room became enveloped with darkness.

“Goodnight Max.”

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#max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #ww84 #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

[blueprint-han]

autumn and honeysuckle.

pairing: han x (fem) reader.

genre: marriage au ; fluff. (can you see how enamored I am for marriage aus-)

⇥ warnings: none, just an autumn date with hannie 🥺 slight kissing here and there but not suggestive at all.

wc: 1.06 K (why do i never write blurbs ; - ;)

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not aim to represent the activities of the real Han Jisung, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

type: drabble.

network tag: @stayverse​​ @districtninewriters​​ @inkidz​​ + @sunoo-luvs​

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @hanniiesuckle17​ (requests for this are closed now!)

credit: this idea was inspired by this prompt list! 🥰

↯ note: I was literally so dumb™ I didn’t know honeysuckle was a fucking plant. 😭 I thought it was a part of a beehive or something how stupid of me I’ll go boo at myself. 😔 But !!!!! Hope I could fulfill my duty to the queen herself, and thank you for requesting! Happy reading. <3 Also where I live we don’t have autumn as a season, so please be mindful that this is completely based on my rusty knowledge from movies. ⇥ dawn.☀️

Autumn, in all honesty, was one of your favorite seasons. The fresh smell of maple and pinecone wafting through the air, drinking spiced lattes and munching on apple pie, drowning in oversized sweaters — admittedly, it was all too joyous for you. Anticipation ran through you once the month of September rolled around, and dried, orange leaves adorned the roads, crunching under your feet when you strolled around.

And your husband loved it all too equally. After all, you’d met Jisung in the lovely season of autumn. If you were to look back, you had no idea that the boy curled up under a tree with a book in his hand and headphones covering his ears would end up being your lover — but hey, you weren’t complaining. If anything, autumn held more significance because of that.

And autumn wreaths were a timely tradition for you. You admittedly loved decorating your house with pretty ornaments when any occasion rolled by — be it thanksgiving, Halloween, or Christmas. and decorating the house often lead to “expeditions” — which really meant just you and Jisung walking hand in hand through a park, stealing occasional kisses and giggles from each other.

So, when you snuck out of Jisung’s embrace (despite his infinite whines and protests), threw him a shirt to wear and pulled him along with you to the park, Jisung wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Your husband could do nothing but scramble behind you, watching you chatter away about how you’d planned to design the autumn wreaths with a loving gaze. You looked so pretty under the rustic orange of the park — the maple trees and pine cones were pretty, but you underneath them were incomparable.

The thing that you found the most adorable was that Jisung brought his trusty pillow along with him and almost fell asleep on your shoulder as you were searching for a good spot to make the wreath because according to him, you’d quote unquote “disturbed his sleep by not allowing him his fair dose of cuddles.” So clingy, Jisung was so clingy. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t love it when Jisung got clingy.

“Okay, you go collect the flowers— Jisung, gooo!” You giggled when your husband pulled you into his embrace. You’d found a spot under a tall, fairly shady tree and were about to search for flowers and dried leaves— if your husband hadn’t immediately pulled you into his embrace and nuzzled into your neck, murmuring something incoherently that kinda sounded like “But this is so comfy I don’t wanna leave.”

“One second, I need to have my daily dose of wifey Y/N before I leave her.” Jisung whined, almost sleepily.

“Oh gosh,” You scoffed playfully. “You’re not leaving me you oaf! Go!” Jisung pulled away but didn’t release his hold on you, pouting like an absolute child as he looked at you with sleepy eyes. “No.”

You knew what he wanted — you knew him like the back of your own hand, after all. If there was one thing that got Jisung to fly on top of the clouds, you were the one who knew it. Being married to him for three years had made you learn enough about him,t he same vice versa.

And so, you leaned in, stealing a tiny kiss from him before letting him linger over your lips for a second.

“Now go!!”

You quickly pushed Jisung with a hearty laugh before spreading a sheet onto the leafy floor of the park relishing the way the leaves crunched under each step. Taking out the flexible yet sturdy wires you’d neatly rolled up to shape a wreath, you started picking out leaves from around you, using golden rope to tie it all together. You’d also brought along some beads to decorate it with along with tiny maple syrup bottle shaped charms, but the wreath somehow seemed to be devoid of something you couldn’t quite place.

It had been about ten minutes later that Jisung returned, his hair mussed up because he’d used his beanie to carry the flowers he’d picked from what seemed like the other side of the garden. You almost cooed over how cute he looked — disheveled hair, sleepy eyes, pouty lips and his caramel skin almost complimenting the orangey tone surrounding him. 

“What did you bring?” You sat on your knees as Jisung sat cross legged beside you, placing the beanie in front of you both before picking out a single flower from the bunch. The flower he held didn’t have any vibrant colored petals, but it exuded an immense fragrance, once that captivated you in an instant.

A little smile creaked as your husband’s lips as he said. “A hanniesuckle.” He laid special stress on the first part.

You narrowed your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to prevent yourself from laughing (or groaning) at the obvious pun he’d tried to intend. Staying silent. Jisung started to fumble for an explanation.

“Get it? Because Hannie and honeysuckle makes-”

You decided to free him from the embarrassment of having to explain the stupidly adorable pun he’d just made, leaning in to place a gentle kiss over the tip of his nose, cupping his cheeks and kissing his lips soon after. Jisung sighed, pecking you once, twice, thrice before pulling away to look at you, and the blush that had made an appearance on his cheeks made you melt over and over again — you couldn’t quite get over how cute your husband was.

“I get it, and you need to stop being so cute, ‘hanniesuckle’“ You used air quotations at the pun. “You’re dangerous for my heart.” Huffing, you pinched his cheeks where he’s blushed like the sunset.

“Hey, you know you signed up for it when you said yes.” Your husband intertwined your fingers with his own, placing a peck on the back of your hand.

“Oh that wasn’t a complaint, Mr. Han. Now you wanna help me knit these ‘hanniesuckles’ into the wreath?” 

Jisung grew flustered yet again, mumbling a small “Of course, Mrs. Han” before he started handing you the flowers, gazing at your concentrated eyes as you stitched the fragrant flowers them in.

Neither to say, the wreath looked very pretty when you hung it on the front door, but then again — you were incomparable.

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor atleast this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️

#inkidz #districtninewriters #stayverse #stayracha #stayhavennet #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fanfiction #stray kida fanfiction #skz han fluff #han jisung fluff #jisung fluff #skz jisung fluff #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung scenarios #t:fluff #t:au #happy reading #skz x stay

[little-lily-w]

A little cup of sugar

Asa Emory x Reader

A/N: This is smutty and also a bit twisted so 18+. Gif is made by me.

Words: 2.6 k

Warnings: Smut, possible dub-con, twisted thoughts.  

You rang the bell and waited; hands automatically coming to pull the top a bit down so that your breasts were popping, the little bubbly skirt being moved by the wind, threatening to reveal a pair of pink panties underneath. You were lucky you only had to walk a few meters living next to his house, otherwise you’d had been exposed to the whole neighborhood for sure. Your legs moved in place nervously, the cool breeze coming up your knees. You had tried anything. From elegant conservative clothes to almost cheerleader outfits, yet he hadn’t even given you the slightest hint of interest. You had even tried showing up with clothes from a past century with the lie of a false masquerade party occurring in a few hours. But the excuse was always the same. A cup of sugar. To bake a cake, to have coffee, to experiment with recipes. It didn’t matter. You certainly had a whole jar of sugar at home but you wanted to see him, and most important, you wanted him to invite you to come in but it was useless.

By the time the door was opened, you felt your toes curling inside the summer sandals. God, this man had such an alpha male presence that it always made your feminine energy meet sky levels. Your legs staggered, your voice became higher pitched, the inevitable giggling each time he spoke. But it also raised up your whore levels, to the point where you swore to yourself that this time he better invite you in or you’d jump onto him.

-Hi…! – you smiled at him – Sorry to bother you, I was wondering if you had…

“A little cup of sugar”. That phrase was stuck in Asa’s brain for the whole month.  He eyed you from your feet to your childish ponytails. He could smell the desperation, but it was always amusing to see a different outfit each time he opened the door. Partly, that was the reason why he never showed any emotion towards your presence, because yes, he was a loner, but he also enjoyed  you being so nervous. However, your persistence was often not welcome. It was distracting and he usually was not in the mood to hear you talk. He’d had been comfortable with a few show ups a month but not with you knocking at his door every other day.  

-Sorry, I just need it for some cupcakes. I hope you have some – you giggled and caressed one of the ponytails.

-No.

Oh? That was new. He always walked to the kitchen at your question and gave you what you required in hopes for you to leave as soon as possible.

-Oh, um… Then…

But as you rambled, he gave a pair of steps backwards allowing space and observing you. You looked at him in the eyes and smirked, trying luck with a step forwards, crossing what was considered the limit of the house. Since he didn’t say anything, you moved the other feet inside too and smiled, making an effort to seem friendly. Asa walked past you to close the door as you moved further in, looking around the place and touching the table to feel the texture.

-What a nice house you have. Oh, what is that? A vintage radio? – you laughed amused at the object, placing your hands all over it. Then you spotted the stairs, instantly concluding that his bedroom must be upstairs and that was the most important part of the house for you – You have more weird stuff nearby? – you asked resting against the creamy wall and pointing slightly to the steps with your head.

You expected to be subtle about your hormones but at this point Asa was jaded although clearly hiding it more effectively than you. Actually, you couldn’t even read his face because his expression was practically emotionless.

-You are not gonna talk to me? – you giggled again, battling your eyelashes.

Asa reacted by gesturing with his hand towards the stairs. Honestly, fuck him saying anything. The invitation was a more than welcome response. You started to go up, purposefully swinging your hips so that your mini skirt moved too, revealing some skin of your butt and, of course, the pink color of the thong too. Asa let you walked all the way, staying still in place while massaging his fingers with both thumbs, hesitating if to act upon what was crossing his mind or not. After all, you were a willing prey, not only entering the wolf’s cave but also going directly to his table.

He started to walk upstairs too only to find you lying across his bed, elbow pressing against the mattress and head resting on your palm, offering a nice view of your curves.

-Comfy old-style bed – you continued, sure by now that your intentions were obvious and about to get corresponded but you looked at your neighbor standing by the door. You were hoping he wasn’t the shy type. It didn’t seem to match him but if you had to do the work, you wouldn’t mind at this point – Still going to play silent? – you winked at him.

Asa went to the chest of drawers, opening one of them to take a rustic but simple thick rope, clearing his throat in the process.

-Mm, you got a lot of tricks under you sleeve, don’t you? – you asked teasingly once he turned around with the item in his hand – Why don’t you come closer? – you invited him but seeing he wasn’t change countenance, you let out a playful sigh – Okay, let me do so instead.

You came closer to him, looking into his black eyes, already wet at the proximity and his deep exhalations. Smirking, your index and middle fingers started to walk teasingly up the denim jacket.

-How long has it been? – you asked him, ready to hold his face in your hands and kiss him but Asa stopped you by abruptly grabbing a hold of your top moving you towards the center of the bedroom and throwing half of the rope over a roof beam, easy to access for his height. Then he secured your hands to it with the other half, arms extended all the way up.

You let out a tremble gasp, fingers fidgeting with the rope while you rubbed your knees together. Asa was circling you like a hunter who examines his prize.

-You are a bad guy, aren’t you? – you tried to play hot not realizing how innocent you actually sounded to his ears – You are going to play hard and not give me what I want?

Asa stopped by you to grab a hold on your nape while his other hand travelled to your mouth, fingertips pressing against your lips.

-Shhh – he shushed you directly into your ear, his breath giving you shivers.

You wanted to lick his fingers, to move them inside your cave with your tongue but something told you he was going to have it in his way but actually, that was even more arousing.

Asa released you, only to take his usual small knife out of his pocket, making you jump when the blade appeared suddenly. You could tell the air in the room had changed. His eyes were colder so much that it became dangerous. A little flash of survival instinct kicked in and you pulled slightly from the rope but, what a pity, it was extremely well secured. As he got closer, a tiny whimper escaped your nose. Your chest started to move up and down, confused at what his intentions were. The blade pressed flat and ice cold against the exposed skin of your belly. He could tell you were having second thoughts but oh, weren’t you the one looking for his attention all this time? Now you got it.

-Um… - you let out in a shaky whisper, feeling entirely vulnerable, but his gaze went up to meet yours for a second and you understood he was repeating his command. You better not dared to risk it once more.

Asa was fixed in your belly button, the shape of it was actually the most interesting thing about you because even though you would have never paid attention to it, Emory was a man of detail and he was noticing a skin pattern that was making him want to do a circular cut around the area to extract the piece.

He moved the blade in order for the sharp point to press painful against your belly but not hard enough to break the skin. He had to control himself, it wasn’t wise to have someone screaming in the neighborhood and, even if he gagged you, the fact of a torture or possibly killing occurring in his house which was nothing else than next you yours was not appealing either in regards of a later police investigation.

However, he started tracing circular patterns around the button and grabbed the bottom of your mini skirt to pull it down in order to reveal the area more. That was the moment when he heard your moaning. He looked up at your face again. Shit, he almost forgot you were there but that didn’t stop him from furrowing his brows slightly. Were you all of a sudden finding excitement in this? Well, judging by the way your knees were rubbing together, he was sure you thought this was some form of a kinky game. How innocent. How lovely. He chuckled dark in response and continued to move the knife around your torso but he remembered why you were there. You wanted to get fucked by him. It was as simple as that. His mind was full of sinister abnormal fantasies but it wasn’t stupid.  And he knew that if he didn’t comply, you were going to keep asking for more sugar.

God, he was already exasperated but you couldn’t tell. His face was still emotionless. Despite that, he was not in the mood to keep hearing your pathetic moans and gasps so he stopped for a second to take some duct tape from the same chest of drawers.

You looked at him as he put it all over your lips, your toes curling against the floor while you turned more and more helpless and he became more and more alpha. He could easily overpower you yet you trusted that if he didn’t hurt you, maybe you were going to be okay and, most likely, going to have a lot of fun with a kinky neighbor.

Asa placed the knife back in his pocket, groaning frustrated. You wanted sex? Okay. But he was going to make you pay for being so insistent about it and interrupting his peace so many times. It had been a long time since he last had sexual intercourse with someone, mostly because his urges weren’t the same ones of simple people, but he knew the anatomy of a human to perfection. Especially how sensitive some parts of the female body could be.

A loud whimper of surprise, muffled by the tape, left you when he ripped off your top in half and then did the same with the pink panties letting them run down your legs along with your skirt. He moved his hand to your ribs, travelling with it to the middle of your spine as he circled you once more but this time stopping at your back. The solely light touch of his fingers was getting you even more excited considering that by now you were merely a piece of meat hanging by the roof. Wasn’t that what you wanted when you offered a continuous delivery for a carnivore? Asa ran his hand down your back giving you a spank so harsh and so thunderous that your body jumped forwards. Was that a whimper of pain? Well, too bad. Grabbing a hold of your now red flesh, he moved you back in place while he palmed his own sex out of your sight, trying to find excitement in normal human activities. But what really put spice into his core was that suffocated sound you made. God, he wanted to hear you whimpering and crying all afternoon if it could have been possible but neighbors wouldn’t allow that. And most important, he wanted to pierce your belly button with one of his thick blades, that kind of penetration was even more appealing than any other to any rounded hole in your body. But coming to a citizen reality, he found something circular that could serve some purpose.

You heard the sound of the leather belt and then of the zip coming down, but you could have never been prepared for the sudden raw stretch in your ass. A hot, thick and for sure uncaring piece of intrusion making its way into you. And surprisingly, although it was on the big side, it managed to push entirely inside, till it was buried, till you could sense Asa’s low groan at the back of your neck, making your hairs stand up. Well, maybe it was because he didn’t even mind your initial squirming nor the pained growls leaving your throat. You tried to endure it, closing your eyes tightly while a few tears spilled from the corners as he started moving in and half way out with an unexpected slow pace for a sadist but sometimes deep slow stabs felt even nicer. You attempted to pull once more from the ropes or to tell him to take it easy through the tape but then a warm hand came to your clit while the other one released your butt to grab a hold on your ponytails pulling your head back. The pain became acceptable and it progressively changed into an uncomfortable but pleasurable sensation, especially because, dammit, Asa knew how to touch your bundle of nerves like he had spent years studying it. After all, he didn’t want to ruin his reputation for complying to the sugar burden.

You got on your tiptoes, moaning as he fastened his pace, each time still smacking his pelvis against you, trying to find his own satisfaction. But it wasn’t until you started moving your own hips and clenching around him that you felt him actually wet inside of you. Realizing the effect you were having on him, you kept going until he realized he was sort of letting you dominate him and his alpha persona snapped. In a second, he cut the rope with the pocket knife and moved you to the bed, butt up and head slammed against the mattress to keep fucking you as hard and fast as he could this time.

After a few minutes, your knees started to shake, letting yourself go in a boiling orgasm but Asa pulled out and, moving you flat on your back, he stroked his cock till his seed was falling traslucid and slightly creamy all over your belly button. He caressed it in a circular motion, purring a bit agitated but quickly moving away once you chuckled at the way he was spreading the sperm on your belly. He grabbed the three pieces of clothes from the floor and handled them to you not coming closer again, just extending his arm and looking away.

-They are useless now – you said in regards to the way the clothes were all torn – Maybe I can borrow a shirt of yours?

Asa replied doing the same thing with the first pair of pajamas that came to his sight. God, he really wanted to cut you.

-Thank you – you said once you were changed – For everything – you smiled “seductively” and kissed his cheek, getting out of the bedroom and going downstairs.

He followed you to open the door in order for you to leave as soon as possible.

-I’m very lucky to be your neighbor – you winked at him lastly before stepping out the house.

Asa closed the door slowly, locking it with key and leaving the key ring on the table.

-You really are – he whispered to himself.

#asa emory #the collector #the collected #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #asa emory smut #the collector smut #the coll3cted #the collection

[sigritandtheelves]

I hope we have a Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa miracle (throwing all the religious holidays out there) and maybe have a new chapter of Simple?!? Pretty please?!!!🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

how about... um... Martin Luther King day? or something? lol sorry, i tried

Simple

Chapter 11

Other Chapters:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

PG-13 | 1.8k wds | pre-XF AU | MSR, Melissa/Samantha

A/N: For what it’s worth, I do plan to finish this. Thank you to folks who have continued to ask about this story. The inspiration comes in very small flashes, but there is a trajectory toward some kind of ending, even if I’m not so great at getting there quickly.

_+_

March 18, 1990 - Alexandria, VA

He trailed fingers along her salty back and watched her breathe. She seemed to have hardened in the weeks since he saw her last: her muscles had firmed, her bones sharpened. She was making herself a stone that would not crack under pressure at the FBI, he supposed, but she was smoothed out and loose-limbed now across his sheets. “I love you,” he whispered to her sleeping form, just trying out the words again. She did not stir. She slept much harder than he.

Fox made himself a pillow and pulled her to lay against him. Dana moved willingly enough, despite the depth of her slumber. She made only soft murmurs with strawberry lips, rubbed her cheek on his chest and hooked her knee over his hip. He held her with both arms and felt the cogs of some great universal wheel settle back into place. Dusk turned to night. He let himself drift with her, though it wasn’t late.

When he moved upward out of slumber some minutes or hours later, her fingers were in his hair and his head was heavy on her breasts, his jaw pressing stubble into the skin over her sternum. He pressed his lips to her skin instinctively as he woke, smelled sleep and sweat and the remnants of some clean powder or soap. He murmured, tasted her, and listened to her breath catch in her throat.

Raspy and low, she asked, “You awake?”

“Mmhmm, getting there.” He lifted his head to meet her eyes in the dim. She smiled at him, blinking sleepily, raised her hand to curl fingers along his jaw. He thought how this was all he really needed, how he could muster the will to battle human monsters forever if she would be the engine of his determination and his refuge. We will be each other’s strength, he thought. Counterpoints and balances, science and intuition. He moved to let her body slip over his, to hold him firm in his place while she kissed him.

“This is right,” she said when she’d broken the kiss.

“It is,” he assured her, hands on her hips, drawing small circles with his thumbs.

She bent her head again, but instead of another kiss, pressed her forehead and nose to his. “It’s love,” she whispered. “I love you.”

He felt the words like the tingling of nerves coming back awake. They felt strong, like forged iron, like truth. Whatever happened, this would be their bedrock. Her knees slipped to either side of his hips and he said the words back to her before his lips pressed to hers again.

—

April, 1990

The machinations of select men, his father included, brewed alongside the presumption of Fox’s settled love. There were other hands at work, fingers steeped in a project content to murder children and scrape the wombs of women under the guise of great sacrifice for an even greater purpose. He neither knew nor wanted anything of these plans, yet they irrupted around him like weeds connected to some vast underlying structure. Beneath his feet, the sidewalk was beginning to crumble.

In Arlington, Fox confronted his father about the upsetting conversation he’d had with Diana Fowley: cases the State Department wanted him working on, connections to something bigger.

“Roping you in, are they? I should’ve figured.” The older man settled in his armchair and gestured for Fox to sit on the sofa across from him. The air held the faint scent of bourbon but there was none in sight now.

“It wasn’t you?”

“Me? No, not me. I didn’t want you involved, that’s why I left.”

Fox considered this. He’d thought his father left because Teena Mulder threw him out. Or dragged the kids away and told him never to come after her. He felt something like an uncomfortable itch, a call to remember something buried deep in the past: dinner parties with strange men and a handful of wives, Fox and Samantha sneaking glances from the stairwell. “But you know these people.”

Bill Mulder grunted.

“What do they want from me?”

The old man rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling. “To use you, most likely. Or to pull you in, get you to do something they can use against you. It’s a dangerous game, Fox, and one you shouldn’t play.”

“Dangerous to me?”

He nodded. “To you and to everyone you love.” He looked over his son, half squinted at him. “You got a girl?”

Fox swallowed and felt something cold in his belly. Dana was in Stanford, finishing her last two months before FBI training and residency at Quantico’s labs. Her family knew about their relationship, but he and Dana were hardly flaunting it in front of State Department officials. “Why should that matter?”

“These are old men with old ideas, Fox. They see a woman as a vulnerability, a means to get at you and nothing more.”

Fox thought back to the panic in Diana’s face when he’d rejected her invitations to the case. The vague coldness in his gut turned to dread. You’ve no idea, she’d said. She’d been afraid. He dropped his face into his hands and rubbed at his eyes.  “They don’t know this woman. She’ll be FBI soon.” But even as he said the words, they felt hollow. Fowley was FBI too.

“Doesn’t matter.” His father’s words were terse, almost angry. “You can’t have anything to do with them, Fox. Their game will ruin you, just like it ruined me.”

A future that Fox had been half envisioning—he and Dana in a little house in Virginia, polishing their guns together, sharing notes over spaghetti and meatballs, making love on the couch in front of bad movies, maybe even, someday, ending up with some precocious, brown-haired and freckled Mulder babies—all of it seemed naïve now. She’d worried that her relationship with him could make her vulnerable, and she might have been more right than she knew. The thought of pushing her away, though, was impossible. He could no more do that than he could perform open heart surgery on himself. But the thought of putting her in danger felt no better. “What do I do?” He asked.

His father sighed, as if he had no great answers either. He’d ended up this way, after all: alone. “Fly straight,” he said after a moment. “Do good work. Keep your hands out of any messy business, and maybe they’ll leave you alone.”

Fox thought back to a strange case he’d worked the year before, to the way he’d been used to catch a woman named Susan Modeski and the three mismatched men who’d tried to uncover the government’s lies. Could he make himself complicit with that? Could he walk on with blinders, knowing others were being hurt, just to save his own skin? To save Dana’s? He nodded at his father, though he was nowhere near sure. He stood, somewhat awkward, and held his hand out to his father. “Thanks, Dad.”

The old man shook it and nodded back at his son, but did not get up to see Fox out.

—

“You tried to push me away to protect yourself… maybe you were right.” Fox held the phone to his ear in the dark, sucking on his third beer and feeling miserable.

“Don’t do that. Don’t make me a victim or a pawn.”

“What if they try to hurt you, Dana? To get to me?” God, it made him sound so self-absorbed.

He heard Dana’s breathing change, sensed her frustration building. “I won’t be some damsel, Fox. I’ll have FBI training. I’ll know how to protect myself.”

He winced, not knowing how to make her understand. FBI training wouldn’t matter if they were always three steps ahead. “What if it’s not enough?” Fox thought about his father. He’d always thought of him as a terrible man, but what if he’d only been protecting them? “Maybe my father pushed my mother away to save our family.”

“And you want to push me away, too?”

He shook his head, which swam with the effects of the beer. “No.” He was emphatic. “No, I don’t want that.”

His words seemed to ease her tension somewhat, and her voice was gentler when it came back through the line. “So what do we do?”

He breathed and thought of her face, felt the depth of their connection and its surety. The path cleared in front of him. He would begin with whatever truth he could get his hands on, but he would not act on it. He would talk to those three men but play dumb for the FBI. He would follow Fowley’s lead, but not let himself be caught in a trap. “Right now, nothing. You finish your term and come back to me. Then you start your time at the Academy, and we’ll be careful, okay? We’ll be careful.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, like he was reassuring them both. “It will be okay.”

May, 1990

In a Baltimore fertility clinic, Melissa Scully overcame her resignations—hesitations based on some sense she could not name—and purchased donated sperm for Samantha, who swore to her that lesbians had been doing this for years. She’d been warmed by Fox and Dana’s reconciliation, grateful for siblings and would-be in-laws, full to the brim with the feeling of family. She kissed her love, held her hand while the doctor performed the quick procedure.

“What’s next?” Samantha asked, knees still in the air. Melissa squeezed her fingers.

“Well, now you wait a few weeks and take a test,” the doctor said. “Just like most folks. You can follow up with your own OBGYN.”

“It’s that easy?”

The doctor smirked. “Well, for some people it’s even accidental. You can head out to the front in about five minutes. Just get changed and meet the nurse at check-out.” Then she walked out of the room, leaving the two women alone.

Samantha brought her hands to her face to cover her grin, brown hair spilled out all around her on the paper of the exam table. She laughed and Melissa couldn’t help but smile too. “Did we really do this?” Samantha asked.

“Seems like it.”

Samantha peeked between her fingers. “It doesn’t feel real.”

Melissa bent to kiss Sam’s head and began collecting up her clothes. “Let’s give it a few weeks,” she said, though she had a sense of fate’s tumblers clicking into place. A February child, like Dana, if this worked. A little pisces maybe, lord help her. Another dreamer in the house. Sam sat up and began tugging on her underwear, careful to line it with a tissue first. She made a face at Melissa and laughed again.

Had Samantha’s last name been on the forms to set off the alarm bells of those same complicit men Fox was determined to avoid, things may have gone differently. Perhaps worse. But the families were deeply entangled now, and one sister-partner was as good as another to those men. A plan unfurled, rolled out like a carpet before them, and each stepped to a place on its pattern.

— end chapter 11 —

#a thing i wrote #simple #chapter 11 #pre-xf au #msr #melissa/samantha

[ask-de-writer]

IDOL TIMES (1 part), a Classical Fantasy

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Classical Fantasy

IDOL TIMES

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

1988 words

written 2003

copyright 2013

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“The thieves of Istar are a bunch of lowlife cowards,” declared Rumol, as he snagged a beer from a passing server’s tray. The server noticed the theft, so he tossed a copper fluket onto the tray.

“That’s the kind of talk that gets folk from Kelin beat to a pulp in Istar,” replied Durson mildly from the next bench. “We’re as brave as any thieves that you will find.” He reached over and took a swig from Rumol’s beer. “Now, suppose that you clear up that claim that you made.”

“Simplicity itself,” retorted Rumol, retrieving his beer. “Look about you. You see thieves on hard times. The whole country is in a depression. Nothing to steal that’s worth the theft, you say. Nonsense! The temple of the Chained One stands ripe for the plucking! It’s a whole orchard of treasures and you are starving! I rest my case.”

“You tell us nothing new. Where does the cowardice come from?”

��Why,” said Rumol indignantly, “if you know about a prize like that, and you don’t take it, what other reason can there be?”

“You might try prudence. We are not as stupid as you think us. The Chained One’s temple is guarded day and night by vigilant priests with pike and spear. The treasures cannot be had - bribery has been tried and failed.”

“Perhaps you have not noticed that the temple is only locked, not guarded, on the night of the full moon. The priests retreat to tightly locked quarters. There is a large round hole in the nave roof. It is the perfect time to make a small expedition, using simple skills, for great reward.”

“You are out of what passes for your mind! The Chained One is unchained on that night! Other thieves have tried what you suggest. None has returned. The Chained One is always in a different position after the full moon.”

“It will be safe,” scornfully stated Rumol. “See this?” He held up a chip of stone, smooth on one side. “It came from the Chained One̓s reverend rear, this afternoon. Common stone, very well worked, it is true, but stone nonetheless. If folk disappeared, they must have left a priest hidden inside the temple. We need only take a crossbow and pick him off through the hole in the roof.”

“None of us will help you,” replied Durson. “You still haven’t explained how the Chained One moves.”

“Preserve me from fools!” exclaimed Rumol. “The figure is probably jointed. The priests sneak back through a tunnel and rearrange it.”

“And the live pony that they leave for a sacrifice?”

“You just heard me say that they have a tunnel. They lead it out and sell it, or save it to use again.”

“Well, you have a glib answer for everything. We have lived here all of our lives. We will not risk it.”

“Then you confirm my first statement - you are cowards. I will see to the treasures myself. Don’t expect any share from me,” declared Rumol. “The local guild can do without my dues if I can’t get help.”

Rumol stood, a bit unsteadily, and strode out of the tavern. A few blocks down the street, on the way to his lodgings, he ran into some “friends”. Guild enforcers. One took his arms from behind, while the other faced him. “Heard some talk about a little rat not payin’ his dues,” he said through his Guild mask. “This may help you to reconsider.” He hauled back his arm for a mighty blow to the stomach.

Rumol erupted. He let the man who was holding his arms support him while he lashed out with both feet. As he connected, he straightened his back and smashed backwards with his head. Both men went down, taking Rumol with them. The fall broke the grip of the man holding him; he got up quickly and, leaving them on the ground, ran to his room.

He paused only long enough to gather his few possessions and go out again, without, of course, paying the landlord. “I’ll avoid the guild’s enforcers by camping in the jungle outside the city for the next few days, until the full moon,” decided Rumol.

Two days of shooing serpents out of his sleeping roll and swatting bugs made him wonder if any job was worth this.

The night of the full moon found Rumol, dressed in black, alongside the Chained One’s temple. Sunset and moonrise were nearly the same time and sun was just gone. He had to hurry. He had attended the ceremonial Unchaining only two hours ago. What he had seen had confirmed most of his plans.

Checking his equipment, he made sure that he had his small crossbow, a grapnel, rope, jimmy and a variety of bags for packing loot quietly away. Swinging the grapnel, Rumol heaved it at the top of the wall.

If there were any gods (Rumol had his doubts) they were with him. The hook caught on the coping at the first cast. He was up the rope like a serpent up a vine. Pulling the rope up after him made him reasonably safe from the city watch. The moon began to rise in a nimbus of orange glow at the horizon as he crept in a leisurely way across the roof to the large round hole. Spaced about it were plinths, each supporting a representation of a major moon phase.

Testing these for security, Rumol looped his rope about one. He tied it by wrapping the rope twice about the shank of the grapnel and letting the rope fall between the hooks. Simple, secure, and to be unfastened in an instant, if need be.

With owl’s eyes Rumol searched the temple for hidden priests. Seeing none, he let down the rope, with the bags tied to it as a decoy. Still nothing. Taking no chances, he cocked his crossbow and carried it in the crook of his left arm, as he lowered himself to the floor. The pony whikkered hopefully.

Rumol strode over to where the pony was tied, for his one minor last-minute change in plan. He stroked the pony’s nose and gave it a carrot. That attended to, he set about his work.

All of the altar-ware had been put away in stout cabinets. A few minutes’ work with his jimmy laid the cabinets open to his gaze. There, before his eyes, was the wealth that those fools were afraid to come for. So far, the job had been absurdly simple. Carefully packing each gold or silver vessel into its own smaller sack, he then put them all into a large bag. He left the candlesticks. They were brass.

His next target was the vestry where the jeweled robes, miters, censors, and other priestly gear were kept. The several services that he had attended told him which door to attack. It had only a small spring lock which broke at once under his educated assault. The cabinets where the priestly goods were kept fared no better. Soon, all were looted and their contents resided in Rumol’s bags.

As he emerged into the nave, he saw that the moonlight was partway up the idol. Its two lower eyes glittered green. Emeralds of that size would never happen, but they might be peridots or beryl. Any faceted stones that large would be worth a king’s ransom.

Never one to leave a job half done, Rumol began to climb the idol. Placing feet on huge haunch, thence to paunch, forearm and then to shoulder, he finally straddled the mighty muzzle. The Moonlight clearly showed the two lower eyes to be set in a cement that matched the stone perfectly. It was modeled to resemble eyelids. In a few moments the moonlight would reach the third eye, too. Rumol set to work on the lower right eye.

Just then, the moonlight came to the third eye, and the muzzle tilted as the great head shifted. The eyes blinked. A deep soft voice rumbled, “Please get that thing out of my eye.”

Hanging on for his life, Rumol squeeked in fright, “Let me down! I didn’t know that you were alive! I’ll just get my things and leave you in peace.”

“You do that,” the deep voice said. Great paws set him gently on the floor.

Quickly, he gathered his loot and began to climb the rope. The huge paws seized him gently but irresistibly, and separated him from the rope. “You said that you would take your things and go. Those things are mine.”

Rumol almost squeaked in fright, “Don’t eat me! Please!”

“Eat you?” the idol answered in surprise, “I would never do that! Where ever did you get that idea?”

“Everybody says that you eat a pony - and any thieves - every moon.” Rumol shook his head, “I didn’t believe them.”

“Well, the pony is my dinner, that’s true,” the idol held him closer to its eyes which were now thoroughly lively, “but I don’t often get a guest to talk to. The priests never stay anymore. They know that their spells keep me from escaping this room as long as my body is stone, which is not likely to change anytime soon.” The idol paused in thought and a devious expression came and went from its massive visage.

“You went to a great deal of trouble and danger to get these things, didn’t you?”

Enfolded in the mighty paws of the idol, Rumol contented himself with a nod of agreement.

The Idol set him down in front of the altar. It carefully emptied out all of Rumol’s booty. “I see that you have even taken the lunar divination die of silver and ivory. If you will stay and talk, I will give you a chance to win some or all of the of these things. Let us play for what you have taken. Each of us will roll in turn. The one whose phase is closest to full wins. Waxing phase is higher than waning. The blank new moon always loses. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

The game progressed swiftly. Sometimes the advantage was with Rumol, sometimes with the idol. Eventually, chance alloted all the loot to the idol. Rumol stood dejected.

He brightened when the idol proposed, “One more pass? All or nothing?”

“Certainly. You’re the best winner that I have ever known. Anyone can be a good loser. Graceful winning is the test.” Taking the die, Rumol threw a waxing gibbous moon. The idol promptly made its throw. A full moon came up. The idol took Rumol gently and said, “You lose. As you have nothing else to give, look into my third eye.” Rumol did as he was bidden; he really had no choice.

Rumol felt a great disorientation and confusion; there was the impression of something dark going up, near him. His right eye hurt. He felt hungry and felt a stiffening all over. There was an intense urge to get up on the altar. As the moonlight faded, he got stiffer and the urge to get onto the altar got stronger, until he could not resist it any longer. Gazing longingly at the pony, he got up on the altar. With the last of the moonlight, consciousness waned on the thought that he was going to be very hungry by the next full moon.

The next morning the priests were surprised at what they found. A young acolyte exclaimed, “This is terrible! The Chained One has refused the pony! Look, there he stands. I pray you, lord priest, what does it mean?”

“Use your eyes, young man,” the priest replied sonorously. “See you not the bags, the jimmy, the broken cabinets? Another fool has tried to rob us.

“Now, while we priests replace the chains, you acolytes clean up the mess. Be sure that things are put away properly and then run get a carpenter to fix these cabinets.”

-THE END-

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#IDOL TIMES #Classical Fantasy #Written by De Writer

[saiilorstars]

Falling in Temptation

Previous chapters  || Sequel to Stars Dance

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Female OC

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Ch. 3: A Siren’s Call

Chapter summary: The Doctor promised Lena a fantastic adventure but instead they get traitorous pirates and a killer Siren who has their friends under a spell. 

Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I said the trip should be fantastic," Lena huffed as a pirate, yes, a pirate, held her against her will along with her twin, Amy and Rory while the Doctor was being forced along the plank of the pirate ship.

"Did you really think that would ever happen?" Avalon glanced at her with a less than surprised expression on her face.

"It was just a distress call and then the trip..."

As the Doctor had promised, he was going to take Lena on one trip with the others and just as he was about to pick a place, he got a distress call from a ship in the precise spot they were in. Only when they'd gotten on the ship, the Captain, Captain Avery, had told them they'd made no such call. Naturally, the entire group had gotten into trouble due to the Doctor's 'charming' behavior and were now about to watch the Doctor walk the plank first.

"I suppose that laughing like that is in the job description," the Doctor tried to lighten up the mood, "'Can you do the laugh?' Check. Grab yourself a parrot. Welcome aboard."

"Stocks are low. Only one barrel of water remains. We don't need three more empty bellies to fill," Captain Avery stood by the plank and kept the Doctor on the plank with the pistol he carried. He glanced back at the others, specifically the three women, "Take that doxy below to the galley," he had pointed to Lena, the smallest of the three women, "Set her to work. She won't need much feeding."

"What did you just call my sister!?" Avalon nearly lunged at Avery for that comment if the other pirates hadn't kept her back. "Say that again! I dare you!"

"Um, a little help, guys?" Lena struggled with the pirate now leading her for a way below the decks of the ship, "Eek!" she squealed as she was pushed into the new room below.

"Lena!" the Doctor called and almost tried heading down the plank when Avery reminded him he still held the gun on him.

"If you're lucky you'll drown before the sharks can take a bite," Avery smirked, nodding for him to start walking the plank.

"If this is just because I'm a captain too, you shouldn't feel threatened," the Doctor pointed, "Your ship is much bigger than mine. And I don't have the cool boots. Or a hat, even."

"Time to go," Avery cocked the gun at him, eyes narrowing.

"A bit more laughter, guys?" the Doctor glanced back at the other pirates and his friends, feeling rather nervous now.

"Sorry if I find this unfunny," Avalon mock-glared at him, Amy and Rory nodding with agreement.

"We are done for..." Amy mumbled.

~ 0 ~

Lena was frightened inside the room she'd been forced into. She looked around and could barely see anything through the darkness that covered the place. She did, however, see a chest with shimmery parts and walked for it, wondering if there were something in there she could use to help her sister and friends. She came to the surprise of finding the chest chuck-full of swords. She took one out and tested the feel of it and noticed a long coat and a tricorne hanging on a peg ahead of her. She looked at the sword again and turned it over, recalling the small lessons she'd received from Avalon. Although those lessons had been for fencing, with fencing swords...not an actual sword.

Well, if you don't do this everyone's going to die...

Yes, the options were very limited here.

~ 0 ~

As the Doctor took a step on the plank he looked around the nearly empty ship and had to ask, "Where are the rest of the crew? This is a big ship. Big for five of you. I s'pose the rest of them are hiding some place," he pinched his nose, "And they're going to jump out and shout "boo"."

"Boo!" came Lena's cry that made everyone turn to look at her dressed in the pirate coat and hat she'd found, her sword aimed at Avery's throat.

"Lena!" Avalon yelled in utter shock that her sister was dressed like that and much more that she was holding a sword that could kill her, "What are you doing!?"

"Saving your life, sis, apparently," Lena shrugged and looked at Avery, "We'll see how it works out. Anyways, throw the gun down," Avery dropped his gun to the floor where Lena was able to kick it away from them, "The rest of you, on your knees."

"Lena..." the Doctor felt his hearts race at the danger Lena was putting herself in. One wrong move and it was, well...game over. It was a well known fact that she was the weakest of them all so he always tried shielding her more. And now here she was...swording pirates...

That was not what a big brother was supposed to let happen.

"Put down the sword," Avery ordered Lena, although he didn't move from his spot as the sword was still puncturing his skin, "A sword could kill us all, girl."

"I don't want to, but you have my big brother walking the plank..." Lena swallowed, careful to show as much bravery as possible. She was scared out of her wits at the moment, her hands sweaty and her heart beating so fast it could possibly explode, "...don't suppose you want to forget this all happened and we can start over?" She dared to hope.

One of the pirates came after her with a wooden handle, "LENA!" Avalon shrieked and made her twin turn to see the pirate in time.

Lena turned around and was forced away from Avery. At the sight, the Doctor tried to intercede but was pushed away by Avery into the rigging.

"Stay away from her!" Avalon pleaded the pirates frantically.

"Don't hurt her!" Amy's voice overlapped with Avalon's and soon enough Rory began chiming in.

"She's sick!"

The group of pirates backed from Lena as she waved the sword to them. She remembered some of the tricks Avalon used to show her and she supposed Fencing could be similar to swordplay and decided to use the same tricks. Still, she was beginning to get cornered as there were simply more pirates than Lena's. She looked up for a way out and blinked as she the rigging.

Would she really...?

"Lena!" Avalon nearly had a heart attack as her sister swung through the air on a piece of rigging while swinging the sword.

Lena managed to cut one of the pirates on the hand before she landed on top of a barrel. The pirate dropped his weaponry and stared at his hand, "You have killed me," he declared and froze everyone in their places.

"I feel compelled to remind everyone that it is just a scratch," Lena looked at both parties nervously and rather guilty, "Still, I'm sorry..." Then she remembered why she just did a lot that crazy stuff and shook her head, "No, wait, I'm not. You tried killing us!" but she stared at the pirate she'd wounded until she broke from guilt, "Oh, sorry!"

"This is why she couldn't take fencing," Avalon reminded Amy and Rory, "She kept apologizing whenever the sword touched me."

"I thought I hurt you!" Lena exclaimed.

"It's just a scratch," Avalon called to the 'wounded' pirate, "But release me and I'll get all the blood out of you for nearly killing my sister!"

"It only takes one drop of blood for death to come," Abery informed her, "Your sister has killed one more of my men."

"With one scratch? Ooh, she should go to jail," Avalon rolled her eyes then realized what she said and called out to Lena before the girl was truly frightened, "You're not going to jail, Lena!"

Through the distraction, a pirate tried getting Lena so she swung out on the rope only to be caught and lose her sword in the air. In trying to reach it, Rory had his hand cut from the tip, a black spot appearing on his palm only seconds later.

"Doctor?" Rory tilted his head in confusion as he stared at his palm, "What's happening to me?"

"She can smell the blood on your skin. She's marked you for death," Avery said whilst he looked at the spot on the pirate Lena injured

"She?"

"A demon, out there in the ocean," Avery nodded to the ocean.

OK. Groovy. So not just pirates today," the Doctor made his way to Rory, "We've managed to bagsy a ship where there's a demon popping in. Very efficient. I mean if something's going to kill you, it's nice that it drops you a note to remind you."

"On what planet?" Avalon made a face but never received an answer as they heard a song slowly rising in volume.

"Quickly now. Block out the sound," a pirate ordered before covering their ears, everyone else following fast.

"What?" Lena looked at them utter confusion.

"The creature. She charms all her victims with that song," Avery explained then quickly covered his ears as well.

"Oh, great, so put my fingers in my ears," Rory rolled his eyes, "That's your plan? Doctor, come on let's go lets get back to the...back to the..." he stumbled around as he giggled shortly Herr and there.

"The music. It's working on him. Look," a pirate observed as Rory and the other bewitched pirate acted dopey.

"You are so beautiful," Rory had moved the Amy.

"What?" the ginger stared at him, thinking it was no time one for complements.

"You know, you should try dressing up as a pirate too. Cuddle me, shipmate!"

"Oh yeah there's something wrong with him," Avalon concluded with certainty, "Rory's never been that bright with flirting."

"Everything is totally brilliant isn't it? Look at these brilliant pirates," Rory walled to the group of pirates, studying like it was his first time seeing them, "Look at their brilliant beards. I'd like a beard. I'm going to grow a beard."

"You're not," Amy quickly said.

"The music turns them into fools," Avery watched the two loopy men with resignation.

"Oh, my God," Avalon was purely flabbergasted at the sight of her best friend, "Stop acting like a drunk! That's my job!"

"No, it's really not," Amy shot her a sharp look for that.

The 'demon' Avery spoke about rose from the ocean bathed in a green glow and singing song that affected Rory and the pirate. Once seeing her, Rory tried moving for her but was kept back by Amy and Avalon. The wounded pirate walked towards the woman, a Siren, no one able to keep him away. As soon as he touched the Siren's hand he...disintegrated?

"I have to touch her," Rory broke free from Avalon's and Amy's grips, "Let me touch her."

Angrily, Amy pushed past him and marched up to the Siren, "Sorry, but he is spoken for!"

The Siren turned red and hissed at Amy, sending her flying across the deck to land harshly on the ground.

"Amy!" the Doctor ran over to help the ginger up, "Amy! Everybody into the hold!"

"C'mon, Rory!" Lena was helping Avalon bring Rory to the hold, all the other pirates gone done.

"Rory Williams!" Avalon turned the man around and slapped him hard across the face.

It seemed like the strength of the slap was enough to snap Rory out of the trance for a moment, "OW! AVA!" he glared at her while rubbing his cheek.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go!" Avalon pulled him towards the hole along with the others.

Once inside the Hold, the group splashed through the low level water as they hurried

"What is that thing?" Amy stopped a moment and looked at Rory, relieved to see he seemed to be looking slightly better.

"The legend. The siren. Many a merchant ship, laden with treasure has fallen prey to her. She's been hunting us ever since we were becalmed," Avery looked at his remaining crew, "Picking off the injured."

"Like a shark," a pirate made the lousy comparison, "A shark can smell blood."

"Oh yeah, a shark wearing a dress that's green and can sing, exactly like a shark," Avalon rolled her eyes.

"The ship is cursed," Avery declared with slight irritation at the girl who didn't seem to take the situation seriously.

The Doctor, however, seemed to be on the same page with Avalon, "Yeah right. 'Cursed' is big with humans. Means bad things are happening but you can't be bothered to find an explanation."

"She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Rory started to slip back into the trance.

Amy raised an eyebrow at that and turned to him, "Actually I think you'll find she isn't," urgently, she looked at the Doctor, "We have to leave. Right now."

"That thing of yours really is a ship?" Avery asked the Doctor with hope. The thing was a box but if it could get them out of there them so be it!

"Well, it's not propelled by the wind," the Doctor shrugged.

"Show me. Weigh anchor. Make it sail!" Avery tool out his gun and aimed it at the Doctor again.

The Doctor groaned of exasperation, "And the gun's back. You're big on the gun thing aren't you? Freud would say you're compensating. Have you ever met Freud? No? Comfy sofa."

"Leave the cursed one, Captain," a pirate pointed at Rory, "The creature can have him."

"Yes, please," Rory nodded with a dazed smile, sounding almost like a child.

"We don't want the siren coming after us," Avery agreed with his crew.

"You're all a bunch of-" Avalon gave a short yelp when she felt something puncture her leg.

Another pirate, the same one that had proposed to leave Rory, cried out next. Both the ginger and the pirate lifted their legs with a leech on attached to their skin.

"Leeches! Ow!" Avalon cried and hopped onto a crate as did the others.

"Avalon..." with a shaky voice Lena called for her sister, guessing what was going to happen next.

"It's bitten me, I'm bleeding," the other pirate had pulled off the leech from his leg as did Avalon, and looked at his hand that bore the black spot.

"Same here," Avalon raised her hand and showed the black spot on her palm.

"She wants blood. Why does she want blood?" the Doctor looked between Avalon and the pirate.

"What were you saying about leaving the cursed ones behind?" Amy shot a look at the wounded pirate, "Sorry," she said to Avalon a moment later.

"It's alright," Avalon sighed and stared at her at her palm.

"It's OK. We're safe down here," the Doctor gestured to the room, "No 'curse' is getting through three solid inches of timber," But of course the Siren reappeared behind him, making him look back, "Ah. Hello again."

"Wow, that's a beautiful song..." Avalon blinked with a dazed smile similar to Rory's.

Lena hopped off the crate she was on and skipped her way to her sister, not about to let some Siren take her away. No one was able to stop the pirate from reaching towards the Siren. As soon as he touched her, he disintegrated.. The Doctor caught the hat the pirate left behind then hurriedly pushed Avalon and Rory out of the hold with Lena and Amy. As soon as everyone was out the Doctor locked the door with the sonic.

"So, safe?" Amy crossed her arms and nodded to Avalon and Rory who were still dazedly looking around.

"I have my good days and my bad days," the Doctor gave a small smile.

"How did she get in?" Lena looked at the locked door, "And more importantly, will she get out?"

He used the sonic on the hat to get some results, "The bilge water - she's using water like a portal, a door. She can materialize through a single drop. We need to go somewhere with no water."

"Well, thank God we're not in the middle of the ocean," Amy threw her hands in the air with exasperation while the Doctor simply put on the hat.

"Did you see her eyes?" Rory turned to Avalon, "Like crystal pools!"

"You are in enough trouble!" Amy pointed at Rory, deeply frowning, not that Rory seemed to notice.

"I liked her singing," Avalon raised her eyebrows and gasped, "I wanna sing like that!"

"The magazine!" Avery remembered, making everyone look at him.

"What?" Lena looked at the Doctor for some help.

"He means the armory where the powder's stored."

"It's dry as a bone," Avery promised.

"Good let's go, there," the Doctor motioned for them to start walking...only to have Avery pull out his gun on him.

"I give the orders!"

"Ah. Worried because I'm wearing a hat now?!" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, "Don't be! Nobody touch anything sharp!"

"Can I hear the singing again?" Avalon asked as Lena dragged her out behind the Doctor.

They came up to the armory room, a pirate taking out a ring of keys to open the door but he couldn't find the key, "The key, 'tis gone, Cap'n."

"How can it have gone?" Avery looked at the ring of keys with confusion.

The Doctor stepped up and pushed the door open, no lock on it, "Someone else had the same idea," he entered the room first and looked around for anything suspicious.

"Barricade the door," Avery ordered as soon as he entered the room, "Careful of that lantern! Every barrel is full of powder."

"Who's been sleeping in my gun room?" the Doctor questioned just as Avery heard a muffled cough coming from a barrel.

He walked over to the barrel and removed the lid, reaching a hand inside to pull out a young boy, "You fool. You fool, boy. What are you doing here?"

"Who is he?" one of the pirates asked as Avery set the boy down.

"What, he's not one of the crew?" the Doctor joked.

"No, he's my son," Avery stared down at the boy with a long sigh, "What in God's name possessed you, boy? Your mother will be searching for you," the boy looked down with silence, "When?"

"Last winter. Fever. She told me all about you. How you were a Captain in the Navy. An honorable man, she said. How I would be proud to know you. I've come to join your crew."

Avery shook his head, "I don't want you here."

"You can't send me back," his son countered, "It's too late. We're a hundred miles from home."

"It's dangerous here. There's a monster aboard. She leaves a mark on men's skin."

"The black spot?" the boy lifted his hand to show he wore the black spot on his palm, surprising the others.

~ 0 ~

A while later, the travelers had taken a seat on a bench, Avalon and Rory coming out of the Siren's trance and acting far more normal than earlier.

Avery walked over to them after having a talk with his son, Toby, "There's nothing wrong with the boy. He has no scars."

"Yep," the Doctor looked at them all with a sheepish smile, "Ignore my last theory."

"He has his good days and his bad days," Amy sighed and leaned back against the wall.

"It's not just blood. She's coming for all the sick and wounded. Like a hunter chooses the weakest animal."

"Then how come I've not been marked, hm?" Lena raised her clean palms for them to see.

"Don't even question it," Avalon pointed.

"Lena's not technically 'sick'," the Doctor went ahead and gave the explanation anyways, "She has a genetic mutation that makes her get sick more easily than anyone else, but she's not really 'ill'."

"Okay, so...he's got a fever," Lena looked at Toby, "And that's a proper illness."

"And the Siren knows it," the Doctor nodded, "Humans. second-rate. Damage too easily. It's only a matter of time before everyone gets bruised. My ship. it can sail us all away from here. You and me," he looked at Avery and stood up, "We fetch it. Let's go."

Avery pulled out his gun and aimed it at him again, "You're not the Captain here, remember?"

"If you keep doing that I'll be the one to shoot you down," Avalon warned Avery, rolling her eyes with irritation, "And don't think I can't do it."

"Thank you Ava, but it's alright," the Doctor smiled at her.

Toby went to one of the barrels while no one looked and took off the lid from it, the song of the Siren quickly starting again with the Siren herself reaching through the water with her arms. The Doctor dashed for the barrel and shut it before the Siren could get through completely.

"The water's dangerous. That's how she gets through," Avery explained to Toby, realizing no one had gone over the rules with him of the Siren, "One touch of her hand and you're a dead man!"

"We're all cursed if we stay aboard!" one of the pirates grumbled.

"It's not a curse. Curse means game over. Curse means we're helpless," the Doctor wagged a finger, "We are not helpless! Captain, what's our next move?"

Avery draped a pendant on a rope over Toby's neck, "Wait with the boy," he instructed his crew.

"Captain we're all in danger here!"

"I said wait, and barricade the door after we've gone."

"Sure you want to go, big brother?" Lena stood up, feeling uneasy of this plan as she knew trouble was just bound to happen.

"We have to get Avalon, Rory and Toby away," the Doctor reminded her, "She's out there now, licking her lips, boiling a saucepan, grating cheese."

"Can you not...please?" Avalon crinkled her face at that.

"Sorry," the Doctor winced.

"But Lena's right, be careful," she sighed.

"Don't you worry, your fairy-tale man is on the case!"

"My what?"

"N-nothing," the Doctor quickly turned away, realizing he didn't actually know why he'd done so. That was certainly knew, "Off we go!" he said to Avery and headed for the doors.

"What was that about?" Avalon looked at the others with an amused smile, never receiving an answer to the obvious question.

~ 0 ~

A couple minutes later, the twins had gone to Toby's side while Rory apologized to Amy for his Siren-controlled words. Also, the other pirates seemed to be staying away from the boy and mumbling a conversation. Of course they realized what they were talking about when they started removing the barrels from the door to get out.

"What are you doing?" Lena frowned, "We're not supposed to leave the room."

"We're not staying here to mollycoddle the boy," one of them answered, "The Captain's gone soft, it's time for us to leave."

"No one's asking you to protect anyone, first of all," Avalon stood up with a hand on her hip, "Second of all, where the hell do you plan to go? I doubt there's a lifeboat somewhere around here and you can't exactly move this entire ship on your own."

"You were given orders to wait," Toby also stood up, "He's your Captain, a Naval Officer. You're honor-bound to do as he tells you."

"Honor-bound'?" one of the pirates scoffed, "Do you know what kind of ship this is? Do you know what your father does?"

"Don't you dare," Avalon stepped in front of the boy. One of the most valued things as a child was their image and thoughts of important people in their lives, especially a parent's.

"We sail under the black flag," the pirate continued, as if eager to ruin Toby's faith, "The Jolly Roger."

"Liar!" Toby shouted and lunged for the pirate but Avalon kept him back, "He's no wicked pirate!"

"Oh, you think so? I've seen your father gun down a thousand innocent men," the pirate turned to the other, "Get what treasure you can I'll meet you in the row boat."

"Oh, so there is an extra boat," Avalon mumbled to the side, distracted enough for Toby to slip out of her grip.

He snatched a nearby sword and pointed it at the pirate, "You're going to remain at your post."

"I am not playing games with you boy, you put that down," the pirate ordered.

"One more step and I'll use this, you blaggard!"

"You don't know how to fight with a cutlass, boy."

"Don't need to, do I?" Toby smirked and lunged forwards again, cutting the pirate he'd been arguing with on the had.

"Ah! No!" he turned his palm over now bearing the black spot, "You little swabber!"

"Congratulations. You made it to the menu," Avalon waved with her fingers, "My advise is you should stay in here, what do you think guys?" she looked at the others with a smirk.

"You scurvy ape!" the wounded pirate pulled out a gun on Toby.

"Don't shoot!" Rory jumped out of his spot, "The powder will blow and kill us all!"

The other pirate snatched the key from his wounded friend, "Mulligan, what are you doing?" the wounded pirate blinked as Mulligan left like nothing.

"No honor among pirates," Amy shook her head as the remaining pirate now hurriedly barricaded the door again.

"Let's put that down before anyone else gets hurt," Avalon took the sword from Toby then looked back at Amy and Lena, the remaining non-cursed in the room, "Not that there's a lot more..." she mumbled.

"Why don't we get that pendant cleaned up, huh?" Lena held a rag for Toby to use so the boy came back to the bench and started polishing the pendant.

Avalon put the sword somewhere it couldn't hurt anyone and returned to her spot beside her sister. She leaned against the wall and turned her hand over to see the black spot on her palm, taking a small sigh as she rubbed it.

"We'll fix it," Lena looked at her sadly, and frightened as was usual, "My big brother, hell fix it, like always."

"I'm not scared Lena," Avalon promised her with a small smile, "I mean, I was terrified for what you did earlier, but this?" she held her palm, "It's nothing compared to that."

"I only did that to save you all," Lena guiltily looked away, "Otherwise, the Doctor walks the plank and then you go after."

"It was stupidly dangerous," Avalon pointed, "Don't ever do something like that again, Lena. I don't want to explain to dad how I messed up and couldn't protect you again." Even though the other aborted timeline never happened, she could still remember how Lena died saving her. It was all her fault. If she had been paying more attention, she could've pushed Lena away to take the bullet Restac had meant for her.

"It's not your job to protect me Avalon," Lena moved closer and spoke quieter so they wouldn't be overheard by the others.

"Yes it is, your my sister, my twin. I've always been in charge of you-"

But the pounding of the doors cut off their conversation, "Amy!" the Doctor called, "Open the door!"

"Toby open the door!" they heard Avery calling as well.

The group looked at each other before hurrying to do the doors and take the barricade down. Once they opened up, the Doctor nearly trampled over them as he ran straight for Toby and took the pendant from his hands, breathing heavily on it as if to fog up the reflection. After a moment, he looked at Avery with a thumbs-up, the Captain clearly relaxing afterwards. And just like that, the Doctor bolted out the door again, calling something about breaking windows and whatnot. After several shattering sounds of glass, the Doctor and Avery returned to the armory room to explain what had happened and what was going to happen. The Siren apparently, did not emerge from water but instead any clear reflection hence the reason behind all the windows being broken. But now that the group knew what they had to do for the moment...they weren't so on-board with it.

"Just wait?" Rory blinked, thinking he'd heard wrong but by the looks the Doctor gave he had, unfortunately, heard correctly.

"That's the master-plan?" Avalon raised an eyebrow, "We just...wait?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't come up with anything better, but-"

"What about the TARDIS?"

"It's been towed..."

"What?" Amy crossed her arms, "How so?"

"Sorry," the Doctor flashed a smile, "We might be stuck here for a while."

"How long are we supposed to wait?" Lena asked, not as irritated as the others.

"The sea is still calm, like a mirror. If you go out on deck she'll rise up and attack," Avery looked at the three affected to remind them this was ultimately the best chance they had.

"It's OK, though," the Doctor cut in as he saw Avalon about to remark again, "The calm won't last forever. When the wind picks up we'll all set sail."

"Until it does, you have to hide down here," Avery gestured to the place.

"Oh this is swell," Avalon huffed with her arms crossed, "You're not living up to your name," she looked at the Doctor.

"I have my good days and bad days," he raised his hands in surrender.

With that being said, the group organized themselves for some sleep on the floor. Although for Amy it didn't last very long as she woke up to several whispers. She looked around and saw the same woman with an eye patch over her eye, talking, before the same hatch shut again. Frightened, Amy left the place to get some air and stumbled across the Doctor in the Captain's cabin, where she found him staring at the windows in silence.

"Doctor?" she stepped forwards, confused what he was trying to do this time.

"Sssh!" he quickly waved her to be quiet while he kept his gaze on the windows.

"What can you see?"

"Feels like something's out there, staring straight at me," the Doctor focused for a moment more until they heard thunder crashing and the ship rocking, alerting a storm was coming for them, "Man the sails!"

~ 0 ~

Through the heavy thunderstorm, the entire group was out on the deck trying to keep the ship safe. Avery was holding the rigging while the Avalon, Lena, Amy and Rory went to the topside and the Doctor stood at the wheel.

"To the rigging, you dogs! Let go the sails. Avast ye!" Avery was crying out certain words like those that left the humans more than confused while they ran for the ropes holding the mainsail, "Put the bunt into the slack of the clews."

"What the hell is going on about!?" Avalon was making a face as she just listened.

"I swear he's making half this stuff up," Amy rolled her eyes.

"Oh, you know, we should make a phrase book to know the translation!" Lena exclaimed, genuinely wondering if it would be enough for them to understand.

"Toby!" Avery looked at the young boy, "Find my coat. My compass is inside it, boy! Heave ho you bilge rats."

"'Rats' was all I could hear," Rory informed and shook his head, knowing that would be pretty much all he would be getting.

As Toby ran back with Avery's coat, he nearly tripped and let a hidden crown Avery kept inside the joke, one that the Doctor told him was necessary to be thrown out or the Siren could come through it and take them. As soon as the crown was still on the floor, the Siren shot out from its clear reflection and immediately held her hand for Toby.

"Don't let her take you!" Avery yelled in horror, his stomach churning as Toby walked closer, "No!"

"Not again!" Lena severely struggled to keep Avalon from heading towards the Siren, Amy having the same problem with Rory now. Together, they stood in front of Avalon and Rory and blocked their way (as well as repeatedly pushed them away) from the Siren.

"No!" Avery shouted as Toby was disintegrated by the Siren. In haste, the Doctor snuck towards the crown and threw it out to sea, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Avery had broken down as he realized his son was gone due to his actions.

The Doctor turned around in anger, "You couldn't give up the gold could you? That's why you turned pirate! Your commission, your wife, your son. Just how much is that treasure worth to you man?"

Avalon looked up in her dazed condition and saw the main yardarm swinging for them, while Lena and Amy were still in front of her and Rory. She pushed the two women away in time to keep them in safety, unfortunately for her and Rory there was no time.

"No!" Lena saw her sister and Rory be knocked into the feisty ocean.

"Rory!" Amy cried as she and Lena ran to the side of the ship, the Doctor coming to join them a moment later.

"I can't see either of them!" Lena panicked as all the water folded over and over, no arms nor heads sticking out from it.

"I'm going in!" Amy declared as was able to swing over a leg before the Doctor yanked her away.

"They're drowning! You go in after them and you'll drown too!"

"But we have to do something!" Lena felt like throwing herself in as well, "Avalon doesn't know how to swim, remember? She's dying!"

"There's only one thing that can save them now," the Doctor looked back at a barrel, one he knew was full of water.

"What are you talking about!?" Amy frantically questioned, looking between him and the water hastily, there was no time for mysteries!"

"The siren, the siren wants them," he reminded her and Lena, "We have to release her!" he hurried for the barrel.

"Big brother, what are you going to do!?" Lena went after him but he got there earlier and snatched the lid of the barrel, releasing the Siren.

The Doctor looked up as the Siren floated in the air, "They're drowning! Go find them!" he pointed and breathed in relief as the Siren dove into the water.

"What did you do?" Lena blinked with wide eyes, terrified as the Siren disappeared through the water.

"If they stay in there, they'll die," the Doctor reminded.

"But she'll destroy them!"" Amy angrily ran up to them.

"That thing isn't just some ravenous hunter! It's intelligent. We can reason with it. And maybe, just maybe, they're still alive somewhere. We have to follow."

"Are you mad!?" Avery stood from his spot and stared at the Doctor with utter confusion.

"If we ever want to see them again, we have to let the siren take us," the Doctor irritably explained, tired of the looks he was receiving from all three, "We'll prick our fingers. All agreed?"

"Aye," Avery went first.

"Aye," Amy sighed, seeing no other alternative.

"Aye," Lena gave the Doctor a sharp look, "This better work!"

"Aye!" he cheered then went ahead and pricked everyone's fingers.

On cue, the Siren appeared with her song and reached for the three who were now happily going for her. A flash of light took them over and the next thing they knew they were waking up on a proper floor.

"Where are we?" Lena, confused, looked around at the solid, gray walls of what clearly looked like some sort of ship.

"We haven't moved. We're in exactly the same place as before," the Doctor could see Avery's ship through the windows in front of them.

"We're on a ghost ship," Avery couldn't find more to say than that.

"No, it's real. Space ship trapped in a temporal rift."

"How can two ships be in the same place?" Amy looked through the window as well and couldn't understand.

"Not the same. Two planes, two worlds, two cars parked in the same space. There are lots of different universes nested inside each other. Now and again they collide and you can step from one to the other."

"That did not make much sense," Lena felt sorry to say.

"Good, cos it's really not like that at all," the Doctor looked back at her with an amused smile, "Just thought it may help..."

"You want to try a different approach, then?"

The Doctor looked around and found a piece of metal that he decided to chuck at the window. It went right through the glass and landed on the deck of Avery's ship, "All the reflections have suddenly become gateways! Ever look in a mirror and think you're seeing a whole other world? Well, this time it's not an illusion."

A low beeping sound carried over to the spot the group was in, "The signal," Amy realized.

"Yes," the Doctor turned and started walking.

"That was the distress call?" Lena asked as they climbed up a staircase.

"Uh-huh," the Doctor nodded.

"There was a second ship here all the time..."

"And the Siren is on board," the Doctor judged by the low song of the Siren they could hear. He stopped in front of a door and unlocked it, surprised to see a desiccated body of an alien on the side. Avery pulled out his gun on the body, "Dead," the Doctor stopped him and walked towards the bridge of the ship. On the control chair there laid another dead alien.

"You were right, there was something staring at us the whole time," Amy walked up while looking out the windows of the bridge, Avery''s cabin being on the other side, "How long has this ship been marooned here?"

"Long enough for the Captain to have run out of grog," Avery pointed at the alien.

"So if that's the captain, what exactly is the siren?" Lena wondered if that was a good question and truthfully she was curious to know, especially since that thing had her sister now.

"Same as us. A stowaway," the Doctor was using his sonic on the corpse.

"She killed it?" Lena blinked rapidly with horror, "But she has our friends now! And my sister!"

"Human bacteria," the Doctor looked at his sonic as it gave the results.

"What?" Amy stepped towards him.

"A virus, from our planet. Airborne, travelling through the portal. That's what killed it," he nodded to the corpse and leaned on the panel, "Didn't get its jabs-" he suddenly lifted his hand with a crinkled face as he stared at his hand now covered in green slime, "Urghhh! Look."

"What is that?" Lena pointed at his hand with her nose crinkled at the sight.

"Sneeze! Alien bogies!" the Doctor fiercely shook his hand in an effort to get the slime off. And, when he found no results, he wiped it on Amy's coat then continued to walk out.

With a glare, Amy turned and went after him with Lena and Avery. They came across a new, white room with dozens of beds suspended from the ceiling, all carrying unconscious people. The Doctor walked ahead with the sonic out as he scanned the place.

"McGrath!" Avery stopped by a bed, "He's one of my men."

"And he's still breathing," Lena looked at the machine that strapped onto the man's neck. Meanwhile, the Doctor found rectangular discs that were full of information.

"My entire crew is here," Avery realized as he looked around, his eyes landing on his son across the room, "Toby!" he ran for the bed Toby laid on.

Amy turned to see Avery run and found Rory as well, "Rory!"

"Avalon!" Lena gasped at the sight of her ginger sister and dashed.

"The TARDIS!" the Doctor went across the room to the TARDIS and practically hugged the box with relief.

"We have to get them out of here," Avery looked at the others frantically, disliking the machines around his son.

"Wait!" the Doctor left the TARDIS and ran for Toby, using the sonic on him, "His fever's gone," he looked over at Rory and walked over.

"He looks so well," Amy breathed as she stared at Rory.

"So does Avalon," Lena agreed.

The Doctor sonicked both of them and blinked with surprise, "She's keeping them alive. Their brains are still active but all the cellular activity is suspended. It's not a curse. It's a tissue sample," he showed the others the discs, "Why get samples of people you are about to kill?"

"We need to get them out of here," Amy declared and started wrapping her arms around Rory to get him up, "Help me!"

The Doctor reached to undo the tube around Rory but an alarm stopped them along with the song of the Siren. Lena gasped as she saw the glowing green shade of the Siren coming from the doorway, "She's coming!"

The Doctor took them to a hiding place on the side of the room with Avery, all watching as the Siren approached Rory's bed and calmed the man down with her singing.

"Anesthetic," the Doctor whispered.

"What?" Avery frowned.

"The music. The song. So she anesthetizes people and then puts their bodies in stasis!"

When Avery saw the Siren going for Toby, he took out his gun and move out from their hiding place, ready to shoot her the moment she touched his son.

"Avery, no!" the Doctor called as Avery shot at the Siren.

Angry and red, the Siren turned for Avery menacingly. The Doctor ran for another part of the room to get the attention on him but ended up sneezing. At the sound, the Siren turned on him with fire between his hands.

"Whoa. Fire! That's new," the Doctor backed away, "What does fire do? Burn? Yes. Destroy? What else? Sterilise! I sneezed. I've brought germs in!" he pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose into it, chucking it to the floor afterwards. The Siren shot the cloth instantaneously on the floor and destroyed the handkerchief.

"Amy..." Lena tried stopping the ginger but Amy shook her arm off and ran for Rory's side.

"Amy, stop!" the Doctor warned as the Siren went after her, "Don't touch him. Anesthetic, tissue sample, screen, sterile working conditions. Ignore all my previous theories!"

"Yeah, well, we stopped paying attention a while back," Amy shot him a mock-glare.

"You sound just like Avalon," he promptly pointed out. "And the Siren is not a killer at all," he tried to say fast as he watched the Siren near her, "She's a doctor!" Amy backed away to where Lena was, both watching the Siren return to her normal green glow, "This is an automated sick bay. It's teleporting everyone on board. The crew are dead and so the sick bay has had nothing to do. It's been looking after humanity whilst it's been idle. Look at her. A virtual doctor! Able to sterilise a whole room."

"Able to burn your face off," Lena reminded with a frown, "That's not very helpful."

"She's just an interface. Seeped through the joint between the planes. Broadcast in our world. Protean circuitry means she can change her form and become a human doctor for humans. Oh, sister you are good!"

"But then that means those machines aren't going to work for Avalon for much longer," Lena hurried to her sister's side, already seeing Avalon begin to fuss quietly, "We have to get them out of here..." Amy tried to reach for Rory but the Siren hissed at her in her red glow and made Amy step away.

"She won't let us take them," Avery sighed sadly.

"She's keeping them alive but she doesn't know how to heal them," the Doctor observed the patients.

"I'm his wife for God's sake!" Amy nearly teared up, "Why can't I touch him?"

"Tell her Amy," the Doctor suddenly got the idea, "Show her your ring," he held Amy's hand with her ring up to the Siren, "She may be virtual but she's intelligent. You can't do anything without her consent. Come on! Sophisticated girl like you, that must be somewhere in your core program."

"Look, he's very ill," Amy gestured to Rory, "OK, I just want to look after him. Why won't you let me near my husband!?"

The Siren held her hand to Amy, a ring of light forming around it. Confused, Amy looked at the Doctor for some help, "Consent form. Sign it. Put your hand in the light," he motioned, "Rory's sick. You have to take full responsibility."

"What about Avalon?" Lena cautiously moved closer to her sister, "Can I...check her out of this...hospital, whatever it is?"

"Of course you can," the Doctor smiled, "Look, show her your bracelets," he pointed at the twins matching bracelets on their wrists.

Amy put her hand through the ring and retrieved control of her husband. Afterwards, the Siren turned for Lena who was holding up Avalon's wrist as well as her own, "We're sisters, you have to give me consent too!" and thankfully, she received the ring of light as well, "Oh thank goodness that worked," Lena gave a smile at the Doctor and Amy, "I'm not brave," she announced and put her hand through the ring. The Siren disappeared as the consent was given.

As soon as the Siren was gone, Amy turned the power off Rory's machine. Rory gasped awake and started jerking as he tried to to breathe. The Doctor turned for the two in haste, "He can't breathe, turn it back on!"

Amy quickly turned the power back on and sighed. Lena looked between Rory and Avalon, in a stump, "They both went into the water, so...if I try to do that with Avalon-"

"I wouldn't," the Doctor cut her off before she was able to finish.

Avalon slowly opened her eyes, feeling her throat was on fire, "Oh, my..." she gasped, "...breathe!"

"The machine's failing now!" Lena grew frantic as her twin struggled to breathe properly, "The TARDIS..." she stared at the big, blue box with hope, "Works for any kind..."

"Where am I?" Rory slowly came to a slow awakening.

"Lena, if...if we did that..." the Doctor came to Lena while Amy explained the situation to Rory.

"It could save her, right?" Lena needed to hear the 'yes' now followed by the plan to get her inside.

"She was drowning..." the Doctor tried to be delicate about it, "...I don't think she would make it that far."

"No, don't say that," Lena's eyes teared up, "Please don't say that..."

"She was drowning like me," Rory managed to get their attention, "Meaning she can be saved like me," he looked at Amy in the eyes, "I'm a nurse, I can teach you how to save me."

"Hold on..." Amy saw where Rory was headed with and shook her head.

"We just have to be resuscitated," Rory could've shrugged if the situation wasn't so dire.

"Just?" Lena choked at the word.

"You've seen them do it loads of times in films. CPR. The kiss of life," Rory said to Amy with a small smile.

"Rory, this isn't a film, ok," Amy sighed, "There are two people, one that includes you, who need attention now. What if we do it wrong?"

"You won't."

"OK, what if you don't come back to life? What if...?"

"I trust you, Amy," Rory assured.

"What about him?" Amy pointed to the Doctor, "I mean why do I have to be the one? Why do I have to save you?"

"Because I know you'll never give up," Rory smiled softly.

The Doctor pointed to Lena to be given a moment as he walked for Avery who looked after Toby, "We have to send this ship back into space. Imagine if the siren got ashore. She would have to process every injured human."

"What about Toby?"

"I'm sorry. Typhoid fever. Once he returns it's only a matter of time..."

"Wait a minute," Lena blinked, "Amy, look after Avalon," she ordered before she rushed to the Doctor and Avery, "Maybe there's another option for Toby," she started to smile, nearly smacking herself for not thinking about it earlier. This was really all on her since Avalon wasn't exactly in her right mind.

"Lena, it's Typhoid fever," the Doctor reminded, "Deadly illness..."

"Yeah, for the new humans," Lena glanced at Avery, "Sorry," she winced at her words, "I just meant, this illness, by the time it reaches New Earth it's mutated and cured...especially by those carrying the antibody in their genes..."

The Doctor's eyes widened as he looked at Avalon, "Oh..." he'd caught onto Lena's plan.

"Oh what?" Avery made the Doctor look back at them again, "What is it?"

"My sister and I, we're part of another type of human, in the future," Lena tried to explain with haste as she could hear some of Avalon's struggle for breath, "We carry antibodies for nearly all type of illnesses, including the one your son has," she pointed at Toby.

"Then do it, girl, help him!" Avery exclaimed.

"I can't..." Lena made a face then sighed, "...I'm sort of sick on that aspect, my genes are all messed up," Avery's face fell at those words, "But Avalon!" Lena quickly instigated the hope again, "She's not sick, she's in perfect condition! And I'm sure she'd be more than happy to help Toby after she's healed."

"Then heal her, fast," Avery nearly pushed the two back to the ginger now that he knew she was the only one who could possibly help Toby.

"C'mon," Lena pulled the Doctor back to Avalon and Rory.

"Someone do something..." Avalon was shaking her head, "...machines are useless, idiotic, stupid-"

"Temper, Ava," the Doctor hushed her.

"I'm dying!"

"CPR, that's all you need, yeah?"

"I'm dead," Avalon sighed, "No offence to Lena, but she's a bit of a nerve-wreck when it comes to that stuff...even when she was the one who needed CPR."

Lena smiled sheepishly at the look the Doctor gave her, "I told you," she tried to remind.

"Just...take care of her, okay?" Avalon shook the Doctor arms to get his attention again, "I don't care what happens to me, just bring her home and look after her, please."

"N-n-n-n-no, that's not gonna happen," he frowned, "I came with four friends and I am leaving with four friends," he looked between her and Rory, "So don't you get any ideas of dying!"

"We'll try our best," Rory assured with a roll of his eyes.

Avalon's breath hitched suddenly as it became harder to breathe, "Okay, dying now!" she exclaimed and put a hand on her chest.

"CPR is a two-person thing, Avalon," Lena frowned, "Remember that important detail?"

"Enough," the Doctor pulled down the ginger's hands, "Now here is the plan and I want all of you to listen," he pointed at the companions, "Rory, prepare yourself," he warned as he turned to Rory, "We're going to unhook you and Amy will begin CPR. And then you-" he pointed at Avalon, "-are not going to die because then that would make me look awfully bad as the person who'll do CPR on you."

"Really?" Avalon raised an eyebrow, "That's gonna be the awful part? How about me dyin-" but she received his hand over her mouth.

"Hush, not finished yet," he pointed to the machine Rory was hooked up to, "When Lena turns that off, Amy, you gotta start CPR immediately afterwards." Amy nodded fervently but the mere thought of doing CPR put her into panic. "Ow!" the Doctor jerked his hand away as soon as he felt teeth puncturing into his skin, "Piranha or human!?" he glared at Avalon, "You better not do that when I try CPR do you understand?" All he received was a very cheeky smile from Avalon that honestly made him reconsider the plan.

"Ready?" Lena stood by Rory's power machine. Amy and the Doctor stood with Rory, nodding for Lena to do it, "Go!" she switched the machine off.

Amy placed both of her hands over Rory's chest and started CPR. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" she repeated each time she waited for Rory to wake up.

"Someone better start with me or I might not let you disconnect this thing," Avalon gulped and glanced at the power machine beside her own bed.

"Okay, okay, you ready?" the Doctor moved for her bedside, preferring to leave Lena by Amy's side. He had full confidence Rory would wake up.

"No," Avalon eyed the coil of the tube around her neck, "What kind of stupid question is that?"

"I'm gonna let that pass because you're afraid," the Doctor pointed at her, "But you trust me, right?"

Avalon nodded, "Completely," she answered softly. The Doctor then reached for the machine when the woman grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him down, "But if I die, rest assure that I will come back and haunt you for the rest of eternity."

As she let go, the Doctor nodded, gulping with a bit of fear, "And there's the Ava I know," he reached and shut off the machine, the ginger immediately gasping a final time before she went unconscious like Rory had.

Lena didn't know where to look anymore. On her right was Amy frantically pushing against Rory's chest, and on her left was the Doctor doing the same with Avalon. With each attempt that failed, both the Doctor and Amy grew more and more frantic, but they wouldn't stop. The few minutes seemed to last an eternity for all of them...until Rory sat upright to throw water from his mouth. A few seconds later, Avalon did the same.

"Ha! I did it!" Amy was proud to say, though the tears in her eyes reflected the terrible fear she just went through.

Avalon threw her arms around the Doctor's neck for a tight hug. "Oh my God, thank you!"

"Oh, one more thing," the Doctor pulled away, "We need you to cure Toby."

"Oh..." Avalon looked past him to the young boy laid on the bed with Avery standing on the side, "...right," she nodded and smiled again, "Thank you, fairy-tale man."

"You're welcome," he smiled back and pushed a lock of her ginger hair from her face, "I will always come to your rescue, sort of my job, you know." Avalon shook her head at him and got up from her bed to go see Toby.

"Can you really heal him?" Avery asked while he stared at his son.

"Watch me," Avalon pressed her hand to Toby's forehead, a great smile spreading across her face as her hand began glowing while she cured Toby.

~ 0 ~

"Well, thanks for the trip," Lena politely said to the group, though it was clear that if she had the chance to go back she probably wouldn't do it. She was getting ready to leave the TARDIS, with only the goodbyes left to do. "But I got to get back home. I don't think Dad and Gavin can make it on their own."

"Take care, Lena," Amy gave the woman a hug.

"I will," Lena moved on to hug Rory then the Doctor. "And please try not to get hurt so much."

"We can say that we will try our best," Rory gave the Doctor a glance afterwards, "Right, Doctor?"

The Doctor was clueless and merely smiled. "Sure, sure!"

"I feel terrible for leaving you alone like this," Avalon shook her head, "I shouldn't be, and I'm sorry I'm-"

"I'm not sorry," Lena cut in, shrugging nonchalantly, "I'm genuinely happy that you're finally doing something you want to do instead of taking care of me."

"How can you say that, Lena? I'm your big sister, I'm supposed to be looking after you..."

"That's just it, Avalon, you're my sister," Lena stepped closer to Avalon and took a long breath, deciding this was as good as any other time to finally tell her sister what she needed to hear. "And yes, I get it, we're sisters and we're always going to be looking after each other, but there's a limit. You, you Avalon, you go over the top. You're my sister, not my mother," Lena felt awful by the face Avalon was making at the mention of their mother, Emmelina, the subject still too raw to be talked about, "Mum looked after us, like her job commanded it to be so, but now she's gone, and there's no one left to do that job anymore. You're my sister, it is not your job to act like my mum, because you're not and you will never be that."

"Why are you telling me this?" Avalon's eyes teared up, making an effort not to take offense to the words being spoken to her by the one person she cared above all.

"Frankly, because I'm tired of it," Lena sighed, knowing that sounded a lot worse than she meant it to.

"Oh..." Avalon's voice cracked. "...right."

Lena looked past Avalon to the others. While they were sympathetic towards Avalon, they all agreed long ago that this was something Avalon needed to understand. "I'm tired of you always putting me before yourself, like I'm the most important thing in the world."

"Because you are," Avalon nodded but Lena cut in again.

"I'm not, the truth is I'm just a regular person like anyone else, only with a mutation in my genes, nothing more," Lena shrugged, "For twenty two years you've taken the role of my mother and I want it to stop, I need it to stop. Because, one day I'm not going to be here-"

"Don't say that," Avalon frowned, "Don't every say th-"

"It's true, Avalon, one day I won't be here anymore," Lena smiled sadly, "And I don't want you to be so lost without me. I've heard what the months after my death were like for you."

"That Doctor has a mouth the size of a black hole," Avalon muttered, unaware of the mock-glare that was being thrown at her from behind by said man.

"I'm glad he told me, because it shows me how much of your life was dedicated to me. Avalon don't you see? I know you do, because you're smart. Your entire life was dedicated to me that when I was gone, you couldn't seem to find your place in this world. I don't want that for you, I never did."

"So what? You want me to stop caring for you? Stop trying to protect you?"

"I want you to have a life of your own," Lena said softly, "I don't want to keep living like this, I'm tired of it. Every waking moment you're always trying to take care of me, not caring how much you hurt yourself in the process. Stop focusing so much on me and discover who you are, apart from the caregiver," she gave Avalon a tight hug. "Please listen. I don't want to be protected anymore." Lena pulled away and offered her sister a kind smile before walking out of the TARDIS.

None of the group knew how to approach this type of situation. They didn't know whether the temperamental Avalon would make an appearance or perhaps the silent, snappy Avalon would strike an appearance...those two were quite the opposite sides and it was crucial to know which one they'd be dealing with in order to help.

"My own sister is tired of me," Avalon declared before making a hasty walk for the staircase.

"What - Ava!" Rory called and made a chase after her. "That's not what Lena said."

Avalon stopped by the staircase and threw everyone a look. "You heard everything. That's exactly what she said. Answer me honestly when I ask if I smother her."

"What?" Rory looked at the others, all agreeing that wouldn't be a good idea. No-"

"Answer me honestly," Avalon rose her voice which made them all wince again, "Do I smother her when she's around?"

"No, you don't," the Doctor answered quietly, "You're simply...overprotective, that's all. It's nothing bad but...it would be better for both of you if you tried fixing that."

"There shouldn't be anything wrong if I protect my twin with everything I've got," Avalon sniffled, "It's always been like that, ever since we were kids. I don't do it because it's a job, I do it because I love her, because she's my sister."

"It's just there's a boundary..." Amy trailed off when Avalon glared.

"Okay, c'mon," the Doctor took her by the hand and sat her down on the stairs with him sitting beside her, "Let me tell you a story, alright?"

"Do you really think this is the time, Fairy Tale Man? Sort of in the middle of something," she gestured to her face.

"You'll want to hear this, trust me," the Doctor assured. "Now this story, it takes place in the house of Amelia Pond." Amy playfully rolled her eyes at the mention of her name. "I met three little girls one night, and you know who I was most intrigued by?"

"Who?" Avalon went along with the story while she tried containing more of her tears inside.

"This little girl with big, red hair with the most responsible attitude I'd ever seen in a child. She called me stupid," the Doctor made a face that got Avalon to laugh, making him beam, "And she threatened me not to hurt her little sister...and for a long time, all I saw in that little girl was the protective sister who looked after the smaller girl with brown hair. You were a wonderful big sister, but you know when I saw you the happiest?"

"When?"

"When I started talking about those fairy tales and princesses with you," the Doctor smiled softly at her, "Your entire face just lit up," he laughed at the memory, "That was the split second I got a glimpse of Avalon, not 'Lena's big sister'. And that's what Lena wants for you now,

"What Lena was trying to tell me in a nice way was to...get a life, basically," Avalon sighed and ran her hands through her hair, "And, honestly, that's not an easy thing for me. I suppose that's part of the reason I focus so much of my life on her. People don't really like me, everyone knows that," she shrugged, missing Rory's and Amy's sympathetic stares. "I'm not a nice person, I've gone to jail several times, well, dozens of times. People never want to be around that. It's always been hard for me to make friends apart from you guys and Mels."

"But you're not in Leadworth anymore," the Doctor reminded and stood up, reaching down for her hands, "And you know what? I like you," she chuckled as he pulled her up, keeping hold of her hands.

"That was cheesy," Avalon couldn't help chuckle and since she did, it gave Amy the courage to agree.

"Oh yeah!"

The Doctor, on the other hand, frowned. "Hey!"

"I would just leave it," Rory told him.

The Doctor huffed, but inside he was happy to see Avalon's spirits lifted. Between the trio, they would make sure Avalon got a taste of a real life.

#ocapp #doctor who fics #11th doctor fics #doctor who #11th doctor #oc: Avalon Reynolds #oc: Lena Reynolds #fic: falling in temptation

[ashes-and-ashes]

Drarryland Prompt #7?

I can’t remember anymore lol.

This is my first Prompt since I got back! Hopefully my writing skills aren’t too rusty :)

So the original prompt was: As it turns out, trudging through a dangerous landscape using an incomplete map as a guide, in search of something terribly important for *reasons*, carrying a poorly packed bag, with nothing but my partner and our wits was not the best idea. Pick either: 1) Stranded -OR- 2) Pirates -OR- 3) Treasure Hunting - Must be written in First Person Point of View. Maximum 930 words.

However, I tend not to like writing in First Person, so I decided to take my first-ever detention 😬

Here it is!!

tw for some abusive language

Prompt: Your first Detention will be served with Filch - You must write or draw Drarry + Hogwarts Detention - either 1) Receiving the detention -OR- 2) Serving the detention.

@gameofdrarry

Confessions

It was far too easy for Draco to receive the detention.

He wasn’t surprised. The war was on the brink of starting, bubbling just under the thin normalcy of day-to-day life, seeping into the cracks left behind people. The tension filled the hallways, the classrooms, spreading thin like paper between an open window.

They were the sacrificial year, the 16 year olds, old enough to fight but young enough to obey, pawn pieces on a checkerboard in a battle fought between two sides. The game had started, long ago, and now Draco was merely a tool to be wielded.

Everything had changed. Draco knew he deserved it. Deserved every hex, every jinx, every stinging lash that whipped across his arms from where the students had shot at him. He deserved it, for being a backstabbing, revolting traitor, for even being able to stomach living under the same roof as the people who wanted to kill the boy he loved. He deserved the torment, every last bit of it.

But the others didn’t. Pansy didn’t deserve to have to fight, to be covered in scabs from hissed curses, didn’t deserve to be called a Whore and Bitch and Slut in the hallways. Blaise didn’t deserve the howlers, the curses hidden in envelopes, the jinxes placed on brooms that made him break his arm. Theo didn’t deserve the mocking glares and hateful sneers, homework shredded and bloodied noses. They didn’t deserve any of it.

Draco closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath of cool air. The Break had just ended, 3 weeks of being stuck in the old house full of people who wanted to kill Harry. His hand drifts up, to brush over the mark seared into flesh.

Beside him, Filch is cursing, the rusty lantern swinging from the iron pole. All it had taken was 3 Dungbombs and a spilt water bottle and Draco was placed into Detention for 2 weeks. He knew the punishment was unfair, knew that Filch just wanted to punish him because he was a Slytherin, but Draco didn’t care. He lets himself be pulled down the hallway, Filch‘s hand an iron grip at his side.

“Bloody kids,” Filch mutters, his voice sounding like gravel. “Don’t know what’s good for you. If I had it my way, you’d all be flogged. 30 lashes, I’d say, see if they dared to set another one of those bombs in my hallway!”

Draco suppresses a small smirk, glancing down at the floor. 30 lashes was nothing. He had received far more last Christmas time, in a room full of sneering Death Eaters, his mother’s screams echoing in his head. He remembers each lash, the burning of the rope, his blood sliding down onto the hard stone of the ground.

He shakes his head, biting his lip to stop the visions. They had been happening a lot, ever since Voldemort forced his father to use Crucio on him.

Filch finally arrives at the door, pushing it open roughly with the butt of his iron pole. “Right. You’re in here. You stay until 10 o’clock. Don’t try to leave. No talking. I’ll be back.”

He turns back, grumbling all the whole, and Draco takes a deep breath. He swallows, hard, before stepping into the room.

He feels Harry’s eyes on him instantly, and his throat closes. It’s been 3 weeks without him, 3 weeks of pretending to hate him, 3 weeks of building the walls in his mind until even Voldemort couldn’t see what he hid behind. He let himself dream, sometimes, of emerald eyes and tousled hair and hidden kisses after Quidditch games.

Harry lets out a choked noise and then they are crashing into each other, wrapped up against the wall, kissing like the sky was falling into hundreds of pieces around them. Draco brushes his hands up Harry’s back, against his neck, the feeling of being so close to Harry after so long apart almost dizzying.

They barely ever got any time together, spending minutes in closets and empty classrooms. Draco savored every second, measured it out in teaspoons, hoping that one day, he wouldn’t have to run.

Harry’s voice is choked. “Draco. God, Draco, I thought they killed you.”

Draco swallows. “They were watching my owls. I couldn’t get a note to you.”

“I know.” Harry rakes a hand through his hair. “I hate it. I hate you being there by yourself.”

Draco shrugs. “It’s fine. At least they aren’t hurting me anymore.”

He immediately sees the rage flaring up in Harry’s eyes, and he quickly backtracks. “Harry. Drop it. You can’t do anything about it.”

“They hurt you?” Harry’s voice is deadly quiet. “Who.”

Draco shakes his head. “My father. It wasn’t his fault. The Dark Lord forced him to. It was either that, or Aunt Bella would kill me.” He forces a bitter chuckle. “Harry. Drop it.”

“I’ll kill him.” Harry’s voice is low. “I’ll kill him, I swear Draco.”

Draco looks down, at where their hands are entwined together. His voice is quiet, the barest of whispers. “You shouldn’t have to.”

They were both pawns, in a game far older then them, too young to be fighting in a war, and Harry nods. There’s sorrow in his gaze, the shared quietness of two boys who had lost too much, and Draco lets his eyes close as Harry wraps his arms around them in the empty classroom.

#game of drarry #drarryland #drarry #drarry angst #drarry writing #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #draco malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy writing #draco malfoy fanfic #harry potter #harry potter writing #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfic #lightning era #hp

[fanficcreator]

I’ll Be Here (Bucky x Reader) Part 1

//Word Count: 1,404

Modern AU

Warnings: none

A/N: I know it’s been forever since I’ve updated and I truly apologize, but there’s still a bunch of stuff going on in my senior year. So, updates might be spotty like this for a little while. At least until I sort out college stuff. The end is in sight because I have my first audition of hopefully many more tomorrow! Once that is done I will be able to finish both this series and the other one that I started, Naively in Love. I promise I will get these out as soon as I can. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy! Wish me luck tomorrow!

P.S. this is based on I’ll Be Here sung by Audra McDonald. You guys should give it a listen!

...

Winter’s wind blew sharp against her cheekbones as she slowly trekked through the streets of New York. Her eyes were squinted and lined with tears, and her scarf fluttered out behind her. She held her arms close to her body, a slight tremor seeping down into her bones.

All in a day’s commute.

She long since abandoned the comfort of her earphones nudged in her ears, growing far too frustrated with digging her hand out of her pockets to push them back into place. As she sifted her way through couples and crowds, she kept her mind focused on the warmth of her home, hoping that that would help her walk faster.

As she turned a corner, she barely noticed the ding of a corner store door opening beside her, until she collided with the exiting patron behind it, his groceries falling to the ground in a frenzy of ripping paper bags. The collision sent her staggering, only to be caught by two wool covered arms.

She brought her hands out of her pockets to steady herself against him, and once she looked up to apologize, the words caught on her tongue.

It was his eyes that did it for her, and everything else just...fell into place.

“Are you alright?” He asked, a furrow between his thick brows. His voice sent her stomach into a whirlwind of butterflies and excitement. He should not have had this much power over her yet.

“Yeah, I’m...” she trailed off, her eyes still swimming in his, “I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed breaking out her trance. She then immediately stepped back with a nervous smile on her face, and squatted down, hear the crack in her knees as she did so. “Let me help you with your groceries!”

She couldn’t believe she just got lost in a strangers eyes, like she was in a teen romance movie. “ridiculous...” she muttered to herself as she scrambled with the fruits and cereal box that had fallen between them.  And yet, as she focused on gathering the fallen groceries, she could feel his eyes on her, causing more nerves to fester in her stomach.

His movements were slow and calculated as he kept his gaze trained on her, admiring her with a small smirk resting on his lips. though she was swimming in her coat, and the fur around the hem of her hood nearly covered her face, she was still so...wow.

He hasn’t been this dazzled by a girl in a long while. It was her elegance that roped him in. The confidence in the way that she held herself, and the calm steady way that she would reach for the fruits that had rolled by her foot had him intrigued. Once he slid his eyes back up to her face, he got caught on her eyelashes that brushed her cheeks. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

His smirk spread to a boyish smile once she glance up and met his eyes once more. And though her skin couldn’t show it, he could tell that she was blushing from the gentle smile that crept onto her lips. He could really get used to that smile.

She cleared her throat before standing abruptly from her seated position, finding herself getting far too caught up with this man. “So uh...” she looked over the contents in her arms, “Frootloops, huh?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I’ve got a friend at home who goes through a box in a week.” He shook his head as the sink full of cereal bowls flashed across the front of his mind, “I should really try to get him on something that isn’t pure sugar.”

“A friend?” She asked, her brows shot up to her hairline, “Is he like a kid, or...?”

Bucky’s eyes widened, taken aback, “No, no no, a roommate of mine. You really think I’m old enough to have a kid?” He asked, amused at how nervous she had become from the minor mistake she’d made.

‘N-no! I just-just assumed that...y’know, you were talking about his diet and getting it under control, a-and I just though that, um...” She could feel her mouth growing dry as she stumbled through her rushed words. “I-I’m sorry...”

Bucky merely chuckled, enjoying her little show, “Don’t be sorry, doll.” His words were smooth and calm, though he could feel the palms of his hands growing clammy. “I had a feeling you were going to flounder around like that. Cutest thing I’ve seen all day.”

“Wow, um...thank you...“ She muttered, a bashful smile  over taking her features. She ducked her head down, trying to avert his steady gaze, only to remember the forgotten groceries in her arms. “I should probably give these back to you...” she muttered, a small chuckle mingling with her words.

“Right,” he responded, an easy smile now on his lips. He’d been smiling this whole time, he realized. The cold biting his cheeks had barely phased him as the two stood outside the corner store. Patrons had to go around them, but neither of them paid any mind to it. Something special was forming between them, he knew it, and he didn’t even know her name yet.

As she began to hand him back his fruits, Bucky kept his eyes trained on her visage, rolling over her lashes that brushed against her cheeks, and the small slope of her button nose. 

“Hey, are you doin’ anything tomorrow?” He asked, the sides of his lips curled up in a smirk.

Though she was taken aback. she stumbled through a small, “No, my day’s wide open.”

“What do you say we catch a movie, or something?” He asked, studying her reaction, which was not one he expected to get.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She exclaimed, her eyes widened, “We’ve barely known each other for five minutes!”

“That’s enough for me, doll.” He replied, shoving his hands in pockets, “C’mon, just one date-”

“I don’t even know your name, yet.” Though her voice was denying him, she could feel the smile creeping up into her cheeks. “I don’t know how much I want to go somewhere with a total stranger...”

, his gaze slipped to the ground in response to her protest. She had a point, New York is a city full of dangers, strangers being the most of them. He somehow had to think of way to make himself seem as non-threatening as possible.

That’s tough for six foot wall of muscle, kind eyes and all.

Nevertheless, an idea struck his thoughts, and his eyes shot straight back up to her, an ambitious sparkle in his eyes, “Well, if you change your mind. I’ll be waiting right here.”

“You’re gonna stand in the middle of a sidewalk in the dead of winter for a girl you just met?” She asked, intrigued yet cautious. “What do you expect that to do?” She didn’t know who this man was, or what he’s done in the past. She could be walking herself straight into a trap.

But then again, that gleam in his eyes was...something she wanted to see just one more time.

“I know what you’re worried about, and by meeting in plain sight of the public eye, you’ll be the farthest from danger.” He placed his hand over his heart with a small smile, “I swear on my life.”

She squinted her eyes as she bit her lip, studying him, looking as deep as she could into his stormy eyes. She knew that she was attracted to him, and this kind of attraction doesn’t happen much for her...the last time she was this flustered over a guy was in high school. But, God, meeting with a stranger in New York is such a dangerous game-

“Look, you don’t have to answer,” He said reassuringly, “But, if you change your mind, I’ll be right here.”

She swallowed and nodded her head in acknowledgement, before turning on her heal to walk away.

“My name’s Bucky, by the way.” He called behind her, waving when she turned back to look at him, “I thought I would give you that, just in case there’s another guy waiting here for you.”

She chuckled, feeling her cheeks warm as she turned back around, ready to mull over her options once she returned back home.

It was a risk meeting him the next day, but life is so boring without any risks, isn’t it?

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

[mittensmorgul]

We’re Working on the Power of Love

(AN: There are several linked posts in this essay, and normally I’d just say “for further reading,” or “if you’re interested,” but honestly I linked them here because they provide the foundation of understanding the scope of these parallels, and I consider them Required Reading. Mostly they saved me the trouble of turning this essay into a 10k word dissertation, because all the connections essentially make themselves by comparing the posts, most especially this one and this one. Go read both of those now. I’ll wait.)

There have been many posts already discussing the parallels in 14.10 to other episodes-- 4.01, 2.20, 13.06, 10.23, and a number of others. But there’s one particular theme I want to explore in more depth, because it’s tied directly to Dean and Michael both. In 5.18, Dean came dangerously close to saying yes to Michael and engaging the Apocalypse script, but everything leading up to his rejection of that script by the end of the episode has now been turned on its head by Michael himself in 14.10.

At the beginning of 5.18, Dean has made his peace with his fate and is going about preparing to give himself over to Michael-- packing up everything that’s important to him in a box for Bobby. He’s at the end of his rope and thinks this is the only way, sacrificing himself to save everyone else. He intends to bargain for their safety in exchange for his own compliance.

This is, essentially, what Cain once did for Abel, as we learned eventually in 9.11, so this loop has repeated itself more than once now, on different levels of the narrative.

I think required reading for understanding the parallels I’m about to make is this post I made on April 20, 2017 during my s12 meta rewatch. It discusses Dean’s painful rejection of each member of his family in a similar fashion to the statements Michael makes to each member of TFW in 14.10. Not to mention the fact it touches on Dean’s thoughts on a White Picket Fence ending for himself, his own guilt and internal darkness, Fate vs Free Will, Dean’s internal strength of will, and the ghost of John Winchester and his long shadow still governing Dean’s choices and opinion of himself.

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/159793521320/517-and-518-or-how-does-any-of-this-make-any (this was the first linked post from the author’s note above)

I read a couple of other posts while searching for the one linked above that also give some insight into the themes that we’re seeing again in s14 regarding all of the above-referenced themes that might prove useful reading, while we’re here:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/177899727345/hot-take-13x23-is-5x18-point-of-no-return-but

And

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/165312952745/im-new-to-spn-and-a-friend-turned-me-onto-your

(more dealing with the Winchester Family Dynamics, the Ghost of John Winchester, and fate vs free will, but still incredibly relevant to the overarching themes of s14)

But what I’d like to specifically focus on are the things Michael weaponized against each of TFW 2.0, because those barbs were crafted much the same way that Dean’s barbs toward his family were crafted in 5.18.

I detailed all of them in this post from the other night:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/182126697455/one-thing-that-stuck-out-to-me-about-last-nights (this was the second linked post from the author’s note above)

I only touched on Michael’s first conversation with Castiel in the War Room briefly in that post, focusing more on his “stalling tactics” inside Rocky’s Bar, and I barely skimmed over Jack’s chat with Michael. But they are thematically paired to the hurtful comments Dean flung at his family in 5.18. Only now, Dean can see all of these statements as the deceptions they are.

In 14.10:

Jack: Sam and Dean -- they're gonna beat you. Michael: Oh, please. Sam's in so far over his head, he's drowning. And Dean? Well, I've got Dean under control. Jack: No. Dean -- he's strong. Michael: He's a gnat. I'm a god. Who would you bet on? You don't know anything about Dean. I'm in his head literally. I know everything. Like, I know how sad he was when you died on the outside. On the inside, well, it's not that he was happy -- he just didn't care. 'Cause you're not Sam. You're not Cas. You're a new burden that he was handed. You're a weak, helpless thing. You think that they care about you, love you? You're a job, a job none of them wanted. And you --

In 5.18, this wasn’t Dean’s comment, but directly subverting who Adam was to who Jack is now:

BOBBY: You’re still John’s boy. ADAM: No, John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I don’t have a dad. So we may be blood, but we are not family. My mom is my family. And if I do my job, I get to see her again. So no offense, but she’s the one I give a rat’s ass about, not you.

Adam staked his ground, separated himself from the Winchesters (to his detriment in the end), but Jack has come full circle and understands his place in the Winchester family.

The barbs Dean lobs at Sam in 5.18 resonate directly to the ones Michael hurls in 14.10:

5.18:

SAM: No? So Michael’s not about to make you his Muppet? What the hell, man? This is how it ends? You just…walk out? DEAN: Yeah, I guess. SAM: How could you do that? DEAN: How could I? All you’ve ever done is run away. SAM: And I was wrong. Every single time I did.

And

DEAN: I just…I—I don’t believe. SAM: In what? DEAN: In you. I mean, I don’t. I don’t know whether it’s gonna be demon blood or some other demon chick or what, but…I do know they’re gonna find a way to turn you. SAM: So you’re saying I’m not strong enough. DEAN: You’re angry, you’re self-righteous. Lucifer’s gonna wear you to the prom, man. It’s just a matter of time. SAM: Don’t say that to me. Not you…of all people. DEAN: I don’t want to. But it’s the truth. And when Satan takes you over, there’s got to be somebody there to fight him, and it ain’t gonna be that kid. So, it’s got to be me.

And 14.10:

- And, Sam – oh, Sam You know, Dean was his happiest when you quit hunting, leaving him with your dad, just the two of them. See, deep down, he knows that you will always abandon him, again and again.

This is playing on the exact same fear, attempting to use this as a manipulation, when everything that’s happened in their lives between 5.18 and now has served to undercut this directly.

Let’s compare what he says to Cas, who in 5.18 had intervened to yell his own pain, the truth of what he’d sacrificed in support of Dean, and eventually the fracture of his own faith in Dean and everything he’d always thought Dean stood for:

CASTIEL: Maybe they’re desperate. Maybe they wrongly assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them. DEAN: Alright, you know what? Blow me, Cas.

And

CASTIEL: I rebelled for this?! So that you could surrender to them? DEAN: Cas! Please! CASTIEL: I gave everything for you. And this is what you give to me.

And

CASTIEL: Maybe it is. But then I won’t have to watch you fail. I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t have the same faith in you that Sam does.

Yet in 14.10, Cas is absolutely convinced that Dean is “more than strong.” His only fear is that Michael could be stronger still. And it’s Cas who sees through the deception, providing the light in the darkness to uncover and understand the truth, to see through the fear and the pain and find Dean, as well as to see through Michael’s lies for what they really are:

- You only tolerate the angel because you think you owe him, because he “gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.” Or whatever. But since then, what has he done? Only made mistakes, one after the other.

Because over the years since 5.18 they have struggled through the depths of broken trust and forgiven each other everything. They’ve come to an understanding that everything they do, they’ve done out of love. They’re not a couple of dumbasses. They know they do the wrong things for the right reasons, and they understand their own failures and guilt. And most importantly, they know that all of this has been done out of love.

Finally, there’s what Michael says about Dean himself:

- You don’t need them. You don’t even like them. They’re not your family – they’re your responsibilities. They’re a weight around your neck. And deep down, you wanted – you were desperate to get away from them. And that is why you said yes

I compared this statement to what Demon Dean tried to hurt Sam with in 10.03, just before he was cured, but this also goes directly to 5.18, and Dean’s state of mind at that time:

DEAN: Just…let me say this. I don’t know if it’s being a big brother or what, but to me, you’ve always been this snot-nosed kid that I’ve had to keep on the straight and narrow. I think we both know that that’s not you anymore. I mean, hell, if you’re grown-up enough to find faith in me…the least I can do is return the favor. So screw destiny, right in the face. I say we take the fight to them, and do it our way.

We both know that’s not you anymore.

Because there it is, even by the end of 5.18, Dean has acknowledged this relationship with Sam is not just his burden. Like the angels in s5 who desperately needed to divide Sam and Dean, to set them up as adversaries willing to capitulate to fate, that’s exactly what Michael was doing in Rocky’s Bar. He needed to break the Winchesters’ trust and faith in one another, because Team Free Will united is an unstoppable force. The theme the show has been hammering home forever is that they’re better together, stronger together. It’s the power of Love, on every level.

#spn s14 spoilers #spn 14.10 #spn 5.18 #winchester family dynamics #here have my belated thoughts on the whole love... and love #dinkle #oh DEAN #lies and damn lies #subversion and inversion #it's spirals all the way down #that's what free will is #need vs want #spn duality

[softlyjiminie]

sanctuary |  p.j.m

⇢ pairing(s): mafia boss!park x mafia wife!reader.

⇢ word count: 8.3K.

⇢ rating: 17+, mature.

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, violence, mafia!au.

⇢ summary: park jimin was an unforgiving, notorious mafia king, dominating the world. he could have anything he wanted, whenever he wanted but if there is one thing he loved more than the games, the weapons, the money…it was you.

⇢ warning(s): please read! mentions of kidnapping, swearing, violence ( mentions of shootings, slapping, wounds, explosives and fight scenes ), angst, mentions of sex, mentions of weapons and drugs.

⇢ author’s note(s): i’ve always had a thing for mafia aus, a gift from above so i had so much fun writing this. ( update: this fic has been slightly edited and updated as of 2020 )

⇢ parts: 1 2 3 4

⇢ sanctuary:  refuge or safety from pursuit, persecution, or other danger.

he would give everything he owned to see you smile, because, you were his home. his safe place. his sanctuary.

it hadn’t taken you long to come to, or at least that’s what you had initially thought. the harsh, overwhelming scent of damp and mould coaxed you into a reality that was typical for you to face, causing annoyance to roll in strong waves across your body. as you blinked rapidly, you took the time to assess your surroundings. dark warehouse? check. a room with shitty guarding? double check. you gave a light tug on your wrists that had been bound behind your back and sighed. cheap rope to tie up your wrists? triple check.

you rolled your eyes. see? typical.

you weren’t stupid. it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that this was a ransom kidnapping, or anyone who had been as experienced in these situations as you had. slumping back in your seat, you sighed deeply, throat dry as you tried to recover your thoughts. the last events you remember coherently being the argument.

yourself and your boyfriend had just returned from a gala. your black ball gown restricting your breathing, causing you to grow frustrated whilst you tugged at the glittering diamonds that graced your neck. he wanted you to move in with him. you didn’t want that. he did...and your boyfriend was someone who always got what he wanted. you hadn’t know what had gotten him so mad, especially when you’d told him no. all you remembered, was that one second he was sweetly unzipping your dress whilst you consistently told him ‘we’ll talk later’ and in the next he was fuming and storming out of your small studio flat and back to the sleek black chrysler 3000 out front.

everything was pretty much a blur after that, aside from when you were hit in the head. you were painfully aware of that now. the dull ache in the back of your head seemed to have grown considerably and it was only then that you realised it was bleeding ever so slightly.

so many people were going to die tonight.

firstly the people who had kidnapped you and secondly, yourself. you were still wearing the gown, the one your boyfriend had bought you and blood stained easily. he would probably give you hell for the dry cleaning bill. exhaling again, you blew some of your matted fringe away from your eyes, squinting them to see if you could make out the figures by the door.

“hey shitheads,” you yelled, cursing unceremoniously. the men switched their attention over to you as you leaned forward in the chair they had oh-so-kindly strapped you to. “could you do me a favour and get a girl a glass of water? i’m a little parched. and some aspirin for this headache would be good too.”

one of the men laughed, his hefty frame jolting up and down as he looked over to his friend who only smiled smugly. “oh sweetheart, in case you hadn’t noticed...this isn’t some five star hotel.”

you bite back a growl. “listen here bub, ‘m just trying to make things easier for you. the better condition you return me in, the better chance you have at staying alive for the next twenty-four hours.” 

this time he snorted, walking closer to you before deciding to run the barrel of his gun down your jawline and then under your chin forcing you to look upwards. jimin was going to kill him. you grimaced, the man fanning his hot and potent breath over your face as he smiled. “who’s to say we won’t kill you before then?” he joked, leaning down so that your noses were only inches apart. you let a cruel grin spread across your pink lips, an eyebrow quirking in the process.

tilting your head, you looked the guard directly in the eye and whispered in a cool tone. “you won’t lay a hand on me if you know what’s good for you...”

and then you spat in his face.

the man reeled back in shock, desperately wiping his face as you smiled with satisfaction. if they were going to kidnap you and ruin what could’ve been a night of relaxation, you were going to have fun with it. his black beady eyes narrowed at you when he was done, and then, he was throwing down his gun and charging at you. “you bitch,” he hissed, heavy hand coming down against the soft skin of your cheek. it burned, leaving a red mark as the area begun to bruise. now, although you weren’t afraid, you had to admit you weren’t expecting that. the air in your lungs seemed to fly elsewhere and your head flew to the side with a slight crack. a silence swept over the room, the only sounds coming from the echo of the hit that had just been delivered to you and rough breaths that escaped from between your bruising lips. the man chuckled smugly, turning away from you for a second. “that’ll teach you.”

moving slowly, you turned to face him again and laughed. it was bitter, cool and would have sent chills down the spines of anyone who could see you. your damp hair falling fell over your face, cloaking it in darkness..

“he’s going to fucking murder you.”

the guard looked as if he was going to try and hit you again when the doors burst open, revealing a slightly shorter male, carrying a glass of water and what seemed like a pack of pills. “now now,” he murmured condescendingly to the guard before you, a twisted grin formulating on his thin lips. “i thought i asked you to play nice?”

“but she-“ the guard defended, only to earn a glare from his boss. he looked down at you with a slight grunt and you faked a sweet smile back at him as he moved back into position.

you turned your gaze to focus on the man who held the glass of water, your brows furrowing as you took in his appearance. he was on the shorter side, hazel brown eyes and lightly tanned skin. his face was oval, framed by greasy black hair but he was young...he couldn’t have been more than twenty, yet you figured he wasn’t much younger than you or jimin.

he smiled down at you, causing your body to fill to the brim with a nauseated feeling. pushing the pill that he’d been holding past your plump lips, he held  the cool glass to them and allowing you to sip from it. you gulped down the water a little too eagerly than you would have liked, trying to soothe the ache that rested in your dry throat.“that better, sweet thing?” god, you wanted to throw up. narrowing your eyes, you nodded at his words, watching as he placed the glass on a nearby storage unit. “i’m glad.”

he returned to you, running a calloused finger along the length of  your jaw before withdrawing from your bruised and tired form. “who the fuck are you?” you asked, boredom laced between each word. your mind couldn’t help but wonder how long you’d been here for, or how long this man had been watching you. it was obivous that he was after something... they always were and for some reason this exchange always involved you.

you wondered if jimin was looking for you, even after the fight. if he even knew you were missing. the thought alone sent chills down your spine, causing goosebumps to arise across the plains of your arm. ‘don’t be scared YN,’ you chanted to yourself like a prayer. ‘he’s looking for you right now.’

all you wanted in that moment was to go home and cuddle up to your boys. jimin’s men had treated you like family ever since you had started dating him, and you would give anything to be with them in this current moment. instead you were stuck here with some asshole who’s name you didn’t even know. “that’s a good question, dear YN,” the man smiled causing you to roll your eyes impatiently. He probably thought that knowing your name would intimidate you. He was wrong. “i, am sim sejun.” he ran a hand through his greasy locks, making you want to gag. “leader of the south, serpent side gang”

ahh. so he wasn’t a mafia leader. silly man.

thinking back to what you knew of mafia life, you figured that he was just a sub division of a larger group and it was then easier for you to decide that he definitely wasn’t a match for jimin’s men. your boyfriend was leader to one of the largest mafia units in south korea, dominating areas of seoul and busan alike, as well as having contacts across the globe. his unit was so infamous that they were practically impossible to track down, essentially remaining off the radar, very few low-level gangs actually knew of their existence. you take it that this guy did not.

anyone who knew jimin, knew that he treated everyone under him, like family. he had safe houses for all of his men and anyone connected to them. everyone knew that if they even laid a hand on his workers, let alone you, they were as good as dead the next day. you sighed again; slightly irked by the dramatics this man was putting on to scare you. “that’s just great! now that we’re acquainted with each other, mind telling me how long I’ve been out for?”

sejun glanced down at his watch, seemingly surprised by your sassy mouth and lack of fear.  “i’d say about forty-seven hours and thirty minutes, give or take a few,” he let his wrist drop to his side and gestured to one of his men to bring over a silver brief case. one of your boyfriend’s rules was to protect you with his life; that meant being kitted out with panic buttons and distress signals at all times but this man had been smart, removing your watch and bracelets which both contained a tracking device and a distress signal. jimin had promised you, that in the instance you weren’t able to use any of those devices, he would find you within forty-eight hours.  

not once had he failed to do so.

all you had to do was keep this man occupied for the next thirty minutes before jimin got to you. you trusted him with your life and he’d never let you down  thus far. “may i ask, mr sim,” you paused, checking to see if you’d captured his attention. his nimble fingers had paused on the keyboard of the laptop hidden away in the silver brief case and he glanced at you with suspecting eyes. “what exactly is it, that you’re hoping to get out of me?”  

sejun let, what looked like a cross between a pained expression and a grin form on his oily features as he dragged a chair to face opposite you. he sat backwards on it, nodding for one of his men to bring over the brief case from earlier. you watched with confused eyes as he tapped a few keys on it, revealing an image. “this is one of the most renowned weapons dealer in all of seoul,” sejun begun, turning the screen so that you could see. you couldn’t help the small gasp that tumbled from between your chapped lips as your tired eyes fell over the picture. it was of you and seokjin, one of jimin’s most trusted men. the picture had been taken roughly three weeks ago when the older male had taken you to his favourite café to treat you for getting a job promotion. “you know him and he as some artillery that we want.”

they had been watching you.

that meant that they had been tracking your every move for almost a month. they must’ve known where you worked and where your favourite place to eat was. where you lived. sim seemed to take pleasure in your shock, your unbothered facade faltering ever so slightly. “we’re hoping to make a little deal with seokjin’s boss, and you’re our end of the bargain,” the oblivion eyed man explained, tapping your swollen cheek slightly. you winced in response, screwing your eyes shut at the pain that spread across the sensitive area. “tonight, we’ll contact mr.kim and make some arrangements. then, I’ll think about letting you go.”

“fuck you.” you spat, mustering up all the venom you could. they didn’t even know who jin worked for and here they were using you as a bluff for some weapons. ugh. men and their toys. sejun didn’t seem to like you insulting him, so leaned over the frame of his chair to yank your sweaty locks back, forcing you to look up at him. without premeditation, the gang leader pressed a silver blade to your throat, and shot you a menacing look. come on. seriously?

“what was that?”

“d-don’t you boys know h-how to play nice?” you forced out through gritted teeth, a lump catching in the ridges of your throat. “I’m sure if you asked politely, jinnie would have been happy to help you.”

the gang leader pulled on your hair again, causing you to yelp out in pain and tears to form in your eyes. “that’s not how we do things around here ms.LN.” he yanked a third time, pressing the knife closer to your untainted flesh and you gasped, biting your lip as you tried not to cry.

“i d-don’t think seokjin’s b-boss would be very...pleased to hear you say that...” you mumbled, hating the feeling of this man’s fingers pressing against your scalp. Suddenly, he let go, letting your head drop forward was you struggled to catch your breath. Mr Sim walked away, grabbing a cloth from the top of a storage unit and wiping the blade he had once held to your neck with it.

he glanced back at you with a quirked brow. “his boss?”

you laughed deliriously, your hair falling over to cover your face as the sound bounced off every wall and surface in the blackened warehouse. Looking up, you allowed your eyes to lock with the man who had threatened to take your life and smiled, a large, genuine smile.“t-tell me mr.sim,” you began with a smooth and silky voice, putting him and his men on edge.

“what exactly do you know about park jimin?”

you laughed again when his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. sejun began to frantically order his men about, shouting at them to up security on all exits. your head lolled to the side slightly from the blood loss as you watched everyone whizz around in a desperate attempt to stand their ground.

“not very much, i take it.”

a voice sounded from the overhead speakers. you perked up, instantly recognising its source. your gaze flickered over to where sejun was standing as he looked up at the ceiling, confused. you grinned. “jinnie? that you?” you called out, happiness evident in your voice. “can you hear me?”

“loud and clear, darling.” he voiced back causing excitement to course through your veins. they had found you and now you could get the hell out of this place.

you shook your head fondly, looking up as sejun begun to pace out of fear. “how did you get through our security systems undetected?” the gang leader yelled, growing angsty.

“for starters; your firewall is pretty shitty and we have the best hacker in all of the world. right namjoon?” there was a clapping sound over the mic, followed by a groan which made you let out a light hearted giggle. “and i’d have to die before i let you touch MY weapons.”

sejun let out another growl before forcing one of his men to tend to his firewall which was currently down. you looked around you, watching as the chaos unfolded. “it took you long enough to find me jinnie!” you teased fondly, hoping that he could hear you above this mess of a gang. “i was starting to think you boys weren’t coming.”

“have a little more faith in us darling, we still have fifteen minutes.”

you let out a giggle that was instantly silenced by the gang leader who was now charging at you. he raised a hand, like he was about to attack but froze when jin took over the speakers again. “hey man, you gotta stop that. if you’re gonna act like that towards our girl, reinforcements will be sent in.” the older male complained, so much so that you could almost hear the pout in his voice. “jungkook, taehyung; you’re up.”

it was almost as if time had slowed down when a sudden beeping sound filled your ears. quickly realising what was happening you ducked your head and brought a knee up to protect your face as wall to the right of you exploded. jin sure did love his explosives. sejun, who had realised a little too late, was thrown to the floor and you screwed your eyes shut as small bits of rubble came your way.

“nice one jin!” a voice that you identified to be taehyung’s cheered as he and the makane stepped through the gaping hole that had been made in the dry wall. the two boys quickly brushed off their black, gucci suits to remove the rubble. the oldest boy, jin, let out a cocky thank you as the youngest members entered the warehouse, knocking out anyone who came their way. “noona!”

the boxed grinned boy smiled when he noticed you, practically forcing his way through the streams of mean who came his way. jungkook followed suit, snapping the neck of someone who had held a gun to him. “that’s what you get for laying your fucking hands on my noona.” the midnight haired boy cursed.

“really kook?, did you really have to kill him?” this time it was namjoon’s voice that flowed from the speakers. he was clearly unimpressed, never being one for violence and fighting. the youngest boy pouted, looking up at the ceiling as he effortlessly punched a guy in the face with the barrel of his gun.

“he hurt my noona...” he whined. your heart warmed, wriggling with anticipation as the pair made their way over to release you, but out of nowhere, sejun jumped up, quickly hollering for more men who begun to swamp the maknaes. you knew they would be okay, with their extensive training they knew how to work under pressure but you couldn’t help but worry.

unexpectedly, you felt yourself being hoisted from the chair you had once been bound to. they were moving your location. “get her out of here!” sim roared, his voice dripping with anger. his men rushed you to what looked like a garage and you assumed they were taking you to a bigger and more protected base.

what happened next, occurred too quickly for your brain to register. within an instant, you were tumbling to the ground, the two men that were carrying you and sejun following suit. you groaned in pain, rolling onto your back as your vision became clear and aligned again. the guards appeared to be dead, but the other gangster was too far away for you to tell.

“YN, you okay?” an orange haired figure asked, helping you to stand on one leg. you looked up with a hiss, locking eyes with a soft pair of brown hues and gentle grin.

“i’ll be okay, hoseok,” you reassured, trying your best not to put any pressure on your right leg. “thank you for shooting my thigh, yoongi.”

the pale blonde male ran up beside you with a lazy smirk, tucking his gun into its holster. “sorry LN, it was the only way i could get them without killing you.” you rolled your eyes at that. hoseok and yoongi were the best snipers you’d ever seen. they worked much better over longer distances compared to tae and kook, who were more experienced with hand to hand combat. “namjoon and jin are just outside with the car, it’s not a long walk but we need to move fast, before reinforcements come.”

you nodded, limping along as quickly as you could with hoseok’s support. your mind slipped into thoughts of jimin and he was or if he was even coming at all. the three of you moved past sejun, who still seemed to be unconscious and begun to make your way to the exit. you didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought of jimin, when you noticed a small red dot right at the centre of yoongi’s back. your eyes blew wide with realisation.“yoongi! get down!” you practically screamed, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him down just as a bullet whizzed past his head. yourself, hoseok and yoongi fell to the floor, not even giving the boys time to register the shooter.

the two older boys rushed to pick you up, letting out curses as they ran to the exit. your forced yourself forward, ignoring the searing pain in your right leg, only to have your friends collapse merely metres away from the exit. “for fucks sake,” you whined, trying to keep yourself sturdy as the two boys struggled to pick themselves up off the floor. sneakily, sejun had managed to gain on the three of you and tugged you into his chest, spinning you around.

“tranquilliser darts huh? god’s gift i say,” he teased, panting as blood poured from a wound in his shoulder. the gang leader gripped your wrist tightly, causing you to whimper. “you think you can escape? eh? you don’t get to leave until i get what i want.”

sim forced your arm behind your back, before switching out his weapon and pointing his gun at your two friends. “i should kill you both right here for the stunt you pulled earlier,” he threatened, before switching the gun to your head. “or maybe i’ll shoot her first.”

hoseok let out a bitter laugh, somehow managing to lift his head. you blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill. jimin, where are you? “i don’t think mr.park would like that very much, don’t you agree yoongs?”

“i think you’re right hobi,” the blonde chuckled in response, watching as sejun trembled with fear. whatever these boys were playing at, you’d make sure to kill them if you didn’t die first. “how long did you say he’d be?”

a breath of relief escaped your when lips when you felt your arm being released from the gang leader’s grip. you watched as your friends’ expression switched to grateful smiles as another arm snuck around your waist.this was a familiar and comforting embrace, different to the one that had you trapped before. you could feel jimin’s hot breath fan down the nape of your neck and instantly felt relieved.

  “he’s right on time.”

you looked down at the floor, to see sejun lying as a crippled mess to the right of hoseok and yoongi, his nimble fingers clutching his head from where Jimin had so mercilessly hit him. “o-oh, mr. park! how nice of you to join us.” he stumbled over his words as he tried to scoot away from the Mafia Leader.

your boyfriend is having none of that. instead, he cocked his gun.

“mr. sim i’m going to make it clear to you that i have no intentions of letting you live tonight.” the silver haired man begun, his usually honey brown eyes seeping into an intimidating shade of blackblackblack. “but before i kill you, i want to teach you a lesson. if you want to make a deal with me, all you have to do is ask...nicely.” jimin’s voice remained cool and even as he spoke, his expression stoic and icy, eliciting a sense of fear from even you.

“i had every intention of-“

the busan male let out a light ‘tsk’ a dark expression taking over his ethereal features as his arm tightened its grip on you. “i don’t think kidnapping and threatening to kill my girlfriend counts as being polite mr. sim, don’t you agree?” you shivered at every word that passed jimin’s pink plump lips, your heartbeat picking up with fear for the man before you. you hated this part. do you know what i do with men like you sejun?” your boyfriend asked, his voice dropping an octave as the man who had kidnapped you, shook his head. “usually, i take a man like you and break them down to their wits end. i take everything from them, their money, their men, their sanity. i toy with their minds, wreck them. i didn’t get to the top with sunshine and rainbows mr. sim, but you see,” jimin continued, letting go of your waist to hold your hand as he ducks down to the gangster’s level. his hand felt warm and comforting in yours, contrasting with his dark and mysterious persona as of now. “family is very important to me and i don’t tolerate anyone who lays a hand on them. with that in mind, you’ve just bought a one way ticket to your grave sir. no one touches my girlfriend and lives to tell the tale.”

“mr. park, jimin- please...have mercy!” the black haired man begged weakly, causing the mafia leader  to let out a deep hand menacing chuckle.

your boyfriend rises to a stand before taking you in his arms again. with a tilted head, he smiled down at sejun, flashing his pearly whites. do you know who i am? how i got here? to the top?” jimin asked cooly, causing you to bury your face in his chest. “i am park jimin, i show no mercy.”

a loud bang cut through the pleas of the man who had taken you and you know for sure that he’s dead. your silver haired lover leaves you for a brief second, moving to check on yoongi and hoseok who seem to have the effects of the tranquilliser wearing off. “jeongguk, how’s it looking in there?” he hollered over the coms, helping his orange haired friend into a sitting position. there’s a bit of static over the line before the maknae’s voice is filtered through.

“everything’s good on our end, reinforcements have just come in.”

“send someone in here, min and jung are down and YN is wounded, i need to get her back to namjoon.” jimin responded with a sigh, looking back at your shaken up form. there’s another pause and some more static before Jungkook replies.

“roger that hyung,” and then the coms turn silent.

almost instantaneously, jimin had returned to your side, pulling you into his chest as his hand found purchase in your hair. he ran hand up and down your back as he sensed your uneven breathing, before pulling away to look into your eyes. “i’m so sorry princess, i should’ve come for you sooner..” the silver haired male cooed, as you curl into his chest, his features are softer now, a concerned expression taking over. “but I’ve got you now, okay? you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“i know, i’m okay now, jimin.” you leaned into his touch, wanting nothing more than his warm embrace. his hand cupped your cheek, a thumb rubbing over it’s bruised skin so softly that anyone would have found it hard to believe that he’d just killed a man. you can tell that he’s getting worked up and mad at himself about your injuries just by the way he holds you closer to his chest but you let your own hand cover his in order to comfort him. “’m okay baby. really. i love you.”

jimin smiled lightly at your words, pressing a tentative kiss to your lips as he did so. “i love you too princess, now let’s get you out of here.”

there’s a few types of silence when it comes to park jimin. the first, and probably most common is the one that makes the temperature of the room drop, oxygen seems to nonexistent and you can feel his eyes staring past you and right into your soul. that type of silence is what he uses when he tries to intimidate someone, is mad at his workers or is going to kill someone. the second type of silence is soothing and endearing, the type where his face is most relaxed and he looks like a peaceful angel. You often had those moments when it was just the two of you, enjoying each other’s company, without a care in the world.

the others could explained but the last one was the most unwanted and dangerous. this silence was the type jimin would give, where he was red hot pissed. anything, anyone said or did could have them ending up in a ditch or a pool of their own blood, in the next country over without notice. but of course, jimin wouldn’t dare threaten you, even he knew better than that.

however; that was the silence that you were forced to deal with on the way home. after everything was cleared up, jimin had namjoon remove the bullet from your leg and bandage it up onsite since you couldn’t go to a public hospital without raising major questions. the light cut on your neck would be dealt with when you’d all returned to headquarters. undoubtedly, you wouldn’t be returning to your studio flat anytime soon and you were almost certain that your boyfriend had sent someone to remove your belongings.

but what you couldn’t figure out, for the life of you, as seokjin and joon drove you back to jimin’s mansion, was why your boyfriend was so pissed. it’s not like you had done anything, you didn’t ask to be kidnapped, yet with the dark and fowl look on the silver haired man’s face, you wouldn’t dare question him. Instead you chose to lean your bruised head on the cool, tinted glass of the chrysler and watch the rain drops fall from the top of the window, down to the bottom as they merged with others to form one whole.

your tired gaze flickered away from the window for a brief second to watch the mafia leader, his silver locks glimmering under the fluorescent back light. his mahogany hues are focused on his phone screen, and you decide that he’s probably making arrangements for his men to track down the larger unit. “jimin,” you sighed, sitting up slightly as you peeled your hot skin away from the cool leather seats. “are you mad at me?” he grunted in response, body joling with the noise as he barley bothered to send you a glance. “would you at least look at me?”

his eyes remain trained on the sleek black device that rested in his large palm. jimin clicked the top button to lock his phone, before glancing out of the window on his side of the car. you frowned. you didn’t understand his sudden change of mood, he had been so tentative and caring when he’d found you but now he was shutting down on you. “fine, don’t say anything and just shut me out like you always do,” you growled, clearly annoyed. you could feel the tension growing within the compact car and was sure joonie and jin could feel it too. they even rolled up the partisan. “asshole-“

“how many more times do you need to be kidnapped for you to realise you’re not safe on your own?” the leader questioned, his gaze finally falling on your perked up form. his stance was stoic, as his face expressionless and his attitude only sparked annoyance within you.

“excuse me?”

he rolled his eyes, still maintaining a straight face. “your home has been compromised several times in the past three months and you still won’t move in with me,” jimin started, clicking his jaw. “you live across town and won’t even let me assign you a body guard, i can’t protect you from where i am and yet you still choose to live where you are.”

your eyes blow wider at each word that passes from the busan native’s plump pink lips and you can’t believe what he’s saying. “so that’s what this is about?” you countered, the flame of fury igniting in your chest. “i just got kidnapped, again and you’re mad at me for not wanting to live with you? seriously Jimin?”

“exactly.” jimin growled in response, his anger increasing. “this hasn’t just happened once, it’s happened twice, thrice times! if low level criminals can break into your home, imagine what other mafia units could do. is it going to take a near death experience for you to move in with me? i won’t always be there to protect you-“

“would it kill you to just shut up about that?” you cut your boyfriend off with a violent yell, slapping your hands down on the seats beside you. jimin’s dark eyes widen as shock takes residence on his usually angelic features. “it’s not up to you to decide when i do or do not need protection, i’m a grown fucking woman park jimin.”

you could tell by the way he looked at you that he was surprised at your out burst. “so what?” he continued on, as if you hadn’t spoken at all, eyes narrowing, yet he still managed to maintain an even voice. “I’m supposed to sit back and relax every time someone whisks you away from under my nose?“

you didn’t need this right now, a lecture. you were an adult and not a child that was someone else’s responsibility. “this isn’t all about you jimin! you make it out as if i want to get taken from my home.”

“i don’t know, maybe you do!” his voice is raised this time, and he never raises his voice, especially when it’s directed towards you. “i cant keep wasting time and resources every time your ass decides to go missing!”

“well maybe i wouldn’t always go missing if you weren’t the leader of a fucking mafia!” you screeched back as the car comes to a sudden halt. the vehicle is filled with heavy panting as you and jimin stare each other down, his expression seems crestfallen as he tears his gaze away from you. hurt swirling in his dark orbs. you’d hit a nerve, you knew you had and you didn’t have a right to go there. jimin had never asked to take over the mafia so young, his father being killed in one of those street wars. your boyfriend had never even had the opportunity to go to university like yourself, taehyung or kook...having become leader at just eighteen.

the beating rain on the roof of the bulletproof car and the constant click of the indication filled the awkward space between the words you were trying to string together. “uh, jimin” seokjin whispered cautiously through the divide. “we’re here” the notorious mafia leader is the first to exit, stepping out into the pouring rain without so much as a second glance. you followed soon after, desperate to apologise to him, not even caring if you got soaked to the bone. the other boys jumped out of their cars not long after you, watching as jimin burst through the mansion’s doors.

“what’s his deal?” yoongi groaned monotonously, still recovering from the tranquilliser dart. the two eldest members, chose not to respond, having heard the whole conversation and suggest that everyone goes inside before they catch a cold. for about an hour everyone remained in the common room, laughing along as taehyung and jungkook fought a lengthy battle in overwatch. usually, you would have enjoyed watching the two maknae kick each other’s asses but the image of jimin’s heartbroken face had been preoccupying your thoughts. hoseok was quick to offer you a change of clothes from the wet ones you had worn earlier but you’d decided to call it a night anyways, gently rejecting his offer. despite the boys’ protests.

you crept up the stairs to the top floor where Jimin was; nerves expanding in your chest and settling in your rib cage. chewing your bottom lip, you pushed open the door to his master bedroom, only pausing slightly in the doorway to make sure the door closed quietly. jimin’s room was your favourite rooms in the whole of the mansion. It’s white and cream interior contrasting dramatically with the blood red and obsidian black colours that usually decorated the place. each item of furniture that dotted the room was sleek and glossy, flashes of gray peaking out in certain places. a king sized bed draped in the finest silks and egyptian cotton was pressed; folded over the side.

“YN,” his voice smooth like silk, lustrous and powerful, keeping you glued to your spot at the doorway. his moon silver locks glistened under the natural light of the window as he emerged from his walk in closet, linen shirt loose around his broad shoulders. you could see the muscles of his toned stomach ripple as he moved across the room, to sit on his bed and you gulped, trying to keep your mouth from watering. the mafia leader let the corners of his lips twitch up into a smirk, a small ‘hmph’ passing from their confines. you frowned at his cockiness, rolling your shoulders as you slipped a firm scowl onto your features. you were going to beat park jimin at his own game. “’m mad at you,” were the first words to leave his plump lips and you had to refrain from letting out an exasperated gasp. your boyfriend was a literal child but you were partly in the wrong. sucking it up, you took a step into the room, feeling his cool gaze settle over your form. hating how he was amused by your nerves, you crossed your arms over your chest and held your head high, a frown falling over your lips. you weren’t going to let yourself be intimidated by him. “you said some pretty hurtful things back there, YN.”

you winced, jimin rarely ever used your real name, opting for nicknames instead. he was definitely upset. “baby...” you started, grasping your lover’s attention. he tilted his head with a look of innocence; as if you hadn’t just had a fight. as if he hadn’t killed a man. “i know what i said was uncalled for... you didn’t ask for this life but what you said back there hurt me too jimin.” the silver haired man dropped his gaze to the floor but that didn’t stop you from continuing. “i don’t ask to be kidnapped , i don’t ask to be taken from my home but you make it out to seem like i do and that’s not fair. we both owe each other an apology for that.”

a silence drifts between the pair of you as you watch Jimin purse his lips and clench and unclench his fists. you know he’s looking for the right words, he’s never been good with emotions. “you’re right, I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, after sometime. you sigh in relief at his words, feeling your shoulders drop as if they’d been carrying a large weight. “you know i never want to hurt you but some things that i said, i meant it.”

you know that he was talking about you moving in but you ignore the comment as you rush towards him and wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. not even a second passed before Jimin had tugged you further into his exposed chest, burying his face in your hair. he may not have been good with his talking but he could express all his emotions through a simple gesture. he was definitely sorry. pulling away, jimin locked his gaze on you, leaning in ever so slowly to press his lips to yours. you couldn’t help but subconsciously let your hand trail up his shoulders and neck before finding purchase on the edge of his jaw, forcing his lips to meet yours.

he kissed you with such raw passion but it wasn’t lustful, full of love and worry. his lips mouthed over your pink ones softly, bruising them ever so lightly as his tongue explored the cavern of your mouth. the mafia leader’s nimble fingers trailed down to your waist, pushing you against his hips as he walked you further back into the bathroom door. you gasped when your back hit the rough surface, and it took all your might to rip yourself away from your boyfriend’s lip lock. as much as you loved him, you weren’t going to go any further just after a fight. “j-jimin” you heaved, through light pants, your smaller hands curling into fists within the depths of his moonlight kissed locks. the man didn’t stop, opting to mouth at your neck wetly, instead. “jimin...i am not hav-having sex with you right now.”

said male pulled away from you with a smirk, his hand leaving your hip to reach for the door handle. “i know, I just wanted to get you to the bathroom,” he whispered teasingly, pushing open the door and stepping into his en suit bathroom. your eyes blow wide, slightly flustered at the moon haired man’s antics before you step inside after him.

the room is tiled with cream marble, a smooth, white ceramic bath tub residing in the centre. everything is accented with white, it’s shining under the bright fluorescent lights. as soon as you enter, the sweet smell of vanilla fills your nostrils along with a dash of roses. you can tell instantly that it’s your favourite shower gel, since you always kept a bottle of it at jimin’s. the bath is filled to the brim with bubbles and is dusted with baby pink rose petals, you could tell that your boyfriend had been preparing the bath for a while, as if he knew you would cave and apologise first. thick, rose water scented candles flickered as jimin moved to remove the rest of his clothes, his eyes flashing up to yours when he noticed you were still standing in the doorway. “this is what we’re gonna do instead of having sex,” he teased with a cheeky smile, his eyes forming creases at the edges. “now are you gonna get in? or am i going to have to enjoy this bath all to myself?”

“what? am i really that undesirable?” you laugh back with a pout, moving to shrug off your shirt. you slip it over your head, only to reveal an almost sinful sight. your boyfriend had just lowered himself into the tub, his head hanging over the edge with a pleased look on his face as the hot water eased his tense muscles. his silvery hair was plastered to his forehead because of the humidity and his lips were ever so slightly parted.

“hurry up, little girl, or i might have to come over there and undress you myself.” jimin murmured, and although he meant it as a lighthearted joke, you could tell he was getting impatient. you made quick work of tearing off the small remainder of your clothes before tiptoeing over to the bath tub. you sunk in, facing opposite to jimin and let out a small moan as the heated water lapped at your bruised skin. the man peaked open a dark eye, smiling at you gently. “c’mere” he mumbled sweetly, making grabby hands at you causing you to shake  your head fondly as you swam over to him.

the normally ruthless (but now soft) man turned you over, so that your bare and soapy back rested against his hard chest and that the rest of your body was slotted perfectly between his legs. his soft hands wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into him, whimpering softly when he pressed a kiss to your damp shoulder. itt was a sweet moment, filled with a comforting silence and it made you grateful for small moments like this; where you weren’t worrying about jimin’s safety or your own. where you could just enjoy each other, and be close with one another. your soft hues fluttered shut, as you listened out for the sounds of jimin’s breathing, savouring the feeling of his skin against yours.

“why won’t you move in with me?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. you could tell he was feeling vulnerable, from the tone of his voice and the way he forced his head into the junction between your neck and shoulder. he pressed a small kiss there and you sighed contentedly, not even opening an eye.

the male whined slightly causing you to exhale through your nose, deeply. “jimin...” you tried to fend him off, not wanting to talk about the topic at hand and instead wanting to enjoy his presence. yet, you knew he wouldn’t let the subject drop. it needed to be discussed, but why were you so afraid to do so?

“please YN,” he begged lightly. “just tell me so I can protect you better this time..”

chewing your bottom lip with nerves, you screwed your eyes shut and clamped your hand over Jimin’s . “it’s because of him...” you explained quietly, hating the way your boyfriend’s body tensed at mentions of your ex. before you’d met jimin, you had been in a serious long term relationship with your childhood friend. you had moved in together during your final years of college and had started thinking about creating a future together. that image was soon shattered when you’d come home to find him with another woman. your ex had literally kicked you to the curb, leaving you without a place to stay. this was when you had met jimin, he offered you a place to stay as a friend and feelings caused your friendship to develop into something more.

your ex was the reason you were afraid to move in with Jimin, you were afraid of becoming to dependant on someone else again.

“i just don’t want to have to rely on someone again,” you whimpered, not realising that your voice had become hoarse from your light crying. you felt jimin pull you closer, as if he was trying to protect you from something and you found yourself easing into his touch.

he let out a heavy exhale. “ i know what he did to you, hurt you baby.” jimin started softly, whispering sweetly into your ear. “you know i would never treat you like that but you have to know, that’s it’s okay to be the slightest bit reliant on someone, at times. sometimes it’s good to have a person to fall back on. I’m that person for you.”

“i-“ you tried, but the words seemed to catch in your throat. Instead of speaking, you chose to let your gaze drop to your pruning fingers in the scented water.

“YN do you love me?” kimin asked quietly, taking your hand in his own.

“more than anything,” came your reply, which was almost instantaneous. jimin grinned against your back, squeezing your hand lightly before his next question.

  “do you trust me?”

“with my life.”

there was a pause, and a moment where your lover pulled away from your exposed skin, leaving you slightly cold despite being half submerged in hot water. “then move in with me?” he pushed the statement out into the open, humid air and you froze. you knew it was more of a question, a suggestion if you will but to you, it felt like a statement. that’s what you wanted it to be. what reason did you have, to not move in with jimin? you trusted him with every ounce of your being and loved him in the same manner. your boyfriend with the sliver of the moon weaved into his fluffy locks always made your happiness and safety his priority, he loved you, he protected you. so what was holding you back?

“yes.”

“wait what?”

you turned to face Jimin in the water, your slightly pruned fingers sliding up to cup his damp and lightly sweating face. you let your eyes fall over his with a hooded gaze, allowing yourself to take note of his unfairly pretty molten chocolate eyes and how their colour shifted under the room’s lighting. you could feel his warm breath fanning over the bow of his lips as you positioned yourself in his lap, his palm securing you by your waist. “yes...” you exclaimed with a whisper. “i’ll move in with you.”

and not a second later did jimin capture your lips, in an ecstatic and searing kiss.

despite trying to hold out on jimin, you had spent the remaining hours of the night worshiping and loving one another’s bodies. now, you found yourself tangled in silk sheets and buried within one of jimin’s larger cotton shirts, his familiar scent helping you drift into a peaceful slumber.

the busan native, quietly closed the bathroom door behind him; having just come out of the shower. he watched you with fond eyes as your chest rose up and down, mimicking the patterns of sleep. no matter how hard he tried, there were never enough words to describe how much he loved you, how much he yearned to protect you from the dangers that lay outside of his- now your shared- home.

sitting on the edge of the bed, jimin let his hand trail over the outline of your supple cheek, and he smiled when you mumbled something in your sleep before rolling over. running a hand through his dampened locks, the mafia leader chuckled lightly before taking his watch from the pocket of his sweatpants and opening his bedside draw to tuck it away.

a dark blue, velvet box in the corner caught his eye and a tentative hand reached towards it to remove it from the draw. opening the box, jimin beamed to himself when its contents were revealed, a diamond sat glistening in all its glory under the light of the stars from its position on a ring. an engagement ring.

to jimin, you were his everything. you kept him going when times had been rough, gave him a reason to wake up every morning when the responsibility of mafia leader had become to much. he would give everything he owned to see you smile because you were his home. his safe place. his sanctuary.

and he wanted to be your sanctuary for as long as you’d let him.

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[the-miss-lv]

WIP Gramander fic ‘Offering‘

Here’s a peek at a short gramander smut fic I’m working on. Warnings for Percival being a monster/creature and Newt his human lover as well as mentioned past underage.

Newt woke body warm and nose cold. He snuggled himself deeper into his blanket furs and pressed closer to Theseus for his body heat. The cottage was quiet but the light of the morning was beginning to show, letting Newt see around the room that was their home. His parents were sleeping in their bed on the other side of the fire. The embers still glowing faintly. It wasn’t far enough into autumn that they needed to keep the fire all night for the heat.

Shivering at the cold air on his cheeks, Newt snuggled down into his bedding a bit more, enjoy the moment of calm comfort before he sighed and got up. With care not to lift the furs and let out the heat that would give Theseus a chill, Newt slipped from the bedding. His clothing were in between the furs they used as blankets and nice and warm. He wore a under shirt and leggins already but the added layer were nice and warm. His socks hung by the fire and were also nice and heated as he dressed and did his boots up for the day. Without making a sound to wake anyone, Newt slipped out of the room and out of the house. The rest of the village was still asleep as well, the sun not peeking yet, only just showing the barest hint of waking for the day.

Newt would have a bit of time to himself.

He walked along the forest path, brisk morning air making him shiver a bit. His breath visible in puffs as he left the trail and began off to the north. With practised easy he meandered through the forest, knowing the unseen paths since he was a boy. He stopped to pick a few ripe plants and tuck them into his bag, collecting what the village could use with care not to strip and kill the plants.

“Good morning,” he greeted the deer he passed and he smiled up at the birds as the woke for their day as well.

Many people found the forest daunting, dangerous and deadly.

Newt had never seen it as such, always feeling welcomed among the trees. If anything, it was the village were he felt the most awkward, never fitting in. Newt walked along a fallen log and mused that he was far more fair footed out in the forest then he ever felt on the flat stone of the village.

A branch snapped and Newt paused, looking to his right to see a large elk lifting it’s great head, mouth full of grass as it chewed contently. Most would statle to see a human but this one knew Newt and so remained where it was, eating as it watched Newt wave and continue passed.

It made him feel a bit guilty, when the hunters found no game in the area and Newt knew there was many. But the animals trusted Newt as well, not to harm them or bring harm upon them either. The village ate well enough anyway.

The Graves saw to that. His great skull and horns symbol carved into the stone in the middle of the village. So all that came through knew which god they worshipped. Graves was a local god and not a great mighty one that might forget them among the hundreds of thousands who honored. But that also meant no great miracles would come to them. The village was content with the balance, they had to work hard but no cruel times fell on them either. Game remained in the area even if it did thin at times, the harvest always grew but was sometimes less than previous years. A balance. A give or take but one that left them able to survive each season.  

The Graves way.

Newt heard the crunch of leaves, something large and looked up, finding nothing.

Smiling, he closed his eyes and reached out, letting something in him guide each step. Something unseen and unexplained. Faith his mum called it. Magic Theseus supposed. The unknown his dad decided.

Newt’s fingers found warm fur and he stepped closer hurriedly, burying his face into the heat and sighing as the autumn chill left his bones.

Percival huffed out, amused as Newt snuggled into his side.

“Hello,” Newt breathed, opening his eyes slowly and letting the focus come as it pleased. Percival could be hard to see. His ilk were very mysterious, one of the many creatures of the land that were more in the realm of the gods than mortals. Magical.

Percival came into view gradually he looked very beastly today like a over sized mix between a bear and wolf with a bit of almost human added. But he often changed a bit, sometimes more human and other days more a beast. The only thing consistent about him was the large set of antlers on his head, all pointed and gleaming sharply. Perhaps if Newt hadn’t met him as a child he’d be more afraid of Percival, with his long claws and predator gaze. His great hulking body and mix of flesh and fur, a monstrous beast that would certainly scare the wits of the village. But to Newt he was merely Percival, a dear friend. A creature who followed him since he was a boy and had let him home a few times when he had grown lost or it had become late into the night.

“I was hoping I would find you today, the village is getting busy with preparations for the fall harvest festival and I won’t be able to visit much soon.”

Newt smiled and unhappily gave up Percival’s body heat to step back. It seemed to linger however, keeping him warm and the chill away from him.

“How have you been? Is the forest fairing well?” Newt asked lightly, walking along the forest with care not disturb the young trees growing from the dirt. Percival rumbled in reply, never speaking a word in all the years Newt knew him. But his gaze was keen and aware, he knew what Newt was saying, even if he never answered beyond rumbles and growls.

Newt walked the path to the river as he did each morning, stopping to pick berries were they were ready. He popped a few into his mouth and licked the juices on his lips. The sun was rising now, warming the air as morning dew gleaming in the light. It made the forest that much more gorgeous and it always stole Newt’s breath away.

“I think autumn is my favorite season, I love them all but there something about the end of summer that seems so perfect,” Newt rambled easily. “The weather is perfect, not too hot or too cold, just enough of both. Everything is finally ready to eat and the land is so pretty,” he smiled up at the trees, eager to see the yellows and red emerge.

Percival huffed at his side, not agreeing or disagreeing.

Feeling content with the world, Newt arrived at the point in the river he liked best. A nice narrow break with grass so fish had a tendency to linger. A great old tree that had fallen long ago provide a walkway for Newt to venture along the water’s edge and spear fish.

“Are you hungry?” Newt asked, sometimes Percival took fish offering and other times he refused. The great beast looked away, more keen on the shoreline then the fish so likely not interested in eating.

Quicker than usual, Newt caught two nice sized fish and sat on the shore to gut them. Birds landing around him to gobble up the guts he discarded eagerly. Newt whistled with them, singing soft songs together as he worked and let them take what he wouldn’t eat. Some sat on his shoulder, contend to take his body heat while a few more adventurous ones inspected his bag, knowing there were berries inside it.

“I might not be able to come out as much for a bit, with the festival preparation beginning, it’s my first proper time attending you see. I’ve only just come of age,” Newt explained to the gathered creatures but mostly Percival, who laid beside them all napping lightly. His eyes slid open and gaze turning to Newt. It was always a bit startling, to feel the weight of his eyes on him. Like a big old bear sizing Newt up and wondering if he would make a good snack. But Percival wasn’t like that. He’d have eaten Newt long ago if so.

“I’m excited a bit, Theseus has been going for a few years and talks of it lots. But Theseus has favor with Graves so it makes sense that he would have fun.”

Each year of the festival, the god would pass through the village and marked his favored family with a fresh kill, a deer that would feed the family well. Theseus was a excellent hunter and very fair about it, never going after deer with babies or setting cruel snares. The god Graves was a hunter himself and he liked Theseus enough to show favor. Each morning Newt’s family woke to a deer outside their door, the only in the village to win such a honor. It was a very good thing, as it meant the god would assist the whole village and look after them all. Theseus was very well liked because he helped keep them all safe. Newt was very proud of his big brother and eager to see the celebration to the god. The children of the village went to bed when the light faded but the adults stayed up much later and danced and shared drinks and happiness. Newt hoped he would be included, but Theseus had always made sure he was so Newt felt confident he would enjoy the festival.

“I hope it goes well,” Newt admitted softly, a part of him hoping that this step into adulthood would help him make closer bonds with the villagers. They weren’t cold or cruel to him, but Newt had always felt a bit different from them. Never able to find his place among them as easily as Theseus always had, able to charm anyone it felt like.

Percival got up and padded over to Newt, nuzzling his ace lightly and Newt smiled in return.

“I can’t, I’ve got to get back early today,” he explained gently as he pushed the beast away and stood up, hanging his fish on the end of a stick with a bit of rope to be able to carry them home without out smearing fish all over his clothing.

Percival huffed again, following Newt and his from shifting so seamlessly, becoming more human looking as he grumbled at Newt in displasure.

“I’m sorry, I really so have to be home, I promised to help mum gather flowers today,” he divulged. He received a more louder grumble and the beast pushed up at Newt’s back, making him stumble a bit.  

“Percival!” Newt scolded without true heat, his face flushing as the monster nuzzled at his shoulder eagerly. Human-like hands curled on his hip, holding them in place as Percival pulled Newt’s backside into his lap and humped at him. He was upright now, walking like a man but more like a bear than a person, those huge antler looming over Newt.

“I p-promised,” he protested and Percival made a soothing sound in reply, really not caring where Newt was supposed to be.

“What will happen if I offend Graves and he leaves my village? Then we’ll all perish and who will you hump then?”

Newt let his bag and the fish slip from his hold however, feeling his body being stirred up with each lazy thrust against his backside. He could feel the length of Percival growing thick and eager.  

Another reason Newt was odd, he thought. This perverse hunger inside him, not for women but for men, for beastly monsters in the forest even. Percival was the only one to ever do this sort of thing with Newt. The beast pushing him down and Newt went with a breathy sound. His knees hitting the grass as he knelt down on his hands and knees, long dangerous claws careful as they pulled his leggins and under things down around his knees. The cool morning air on his skin and then the heat of breath.

Newt wasn’t sure how old he was when this began, back when sex first began to interest him he supposed. Percival had been his friend since Newt was a toddler, seeing him over his mother's shoulder, peeking at the beast no one else saw. Newt had grown up running wild in the forest, safe in Percival’s shadow. Nothing ill ever came for him, no predator beast ever looked at Newt when such a huge monster loomed over him. He had spent lazy summers laying on Percival’s back when he was mostly a beast, lumbering along as Newt rode him and felt the sun warm his back, the musky scent of Percival’s fur soothing.  

At some point growing up Newt had begun to feel sexual want, hips rolling against his palm as he touched himself. He shared a bed with Theseus, always had to keep warm and to stay safe. So Newt couldn't fumble at night, he’d die of embarrassment if Theseus woke and found out. The only time he had away from other people was in the forest and so before long he was settled under the trees, hand in his pants exploring.

Graves was a known for fertility as well so such things were encouraged, to be sexual and enjoy the sensations of the body. It would have been fine if Percival didn't take notice of it all. Always so nosy about things, shoving his face to see what Newt was doing. He was a great looming creature and Newt couldn’t over power him, so when Percival wanted to see something, he got to see. Newt ended up without his leggins multiple times, being licked and explored, that wet hot tongue doing things to him he never knew he could feel. Newt always a bit dazed afterward, his knees wobbling a bit.   

He had grown up that way, Percival taking what he wanted and Newt always breathless after, dripping his own seed. It wasn’t common to prefer the same gender, it meant less children and wasn’t approved of. Newt would struggle to be allowed to marry another man and the idea of taking home a monster to his parents was ridiculous. He had supposed that meant he might never marry, that he might spend his whole life with a secret beast lover. There was a old lady in the village who never married. She was talented with herbs however and so allowed to be odd. If Newt could learn a skill well enough, he might be allowed as she was.

“P-Percy,” Newt whined out, the first wet lap of a tongue his skin making him shiver. It felt so dirty and wrong, to be touched there but something about it also very so very good. It made the hunger in Newt’s belly twist up and his own cock go hard and needy.

Each wet slurping sound made him whimper, the feel of the hot breath on his skin and then that long lap made Newt clutch at the grass. His hips rocked of their own intent, Newt panting as Percival worked, got Newt’s lust so riled up he was gasping out and shoving back. Feeling Percival's long monster tongue press at his hole, wanting to invade Newt’s body. Pushing intently as he closed his eyes tight and focused on that feeling. His hole fluttering as he felt the sloppy kisses against it.

Newt felt Percival pull back a touch and then his long tongue lapped at Newts hanging cock. Percival lifted Newt’s weight easily, his knees lifting off the grass as Percival held him by the hips so he could reach as he pleased without bending down so far. He licked at Newt’s cock, catching the stray drips from the tip and making it throb even harder with the wet lapping.

“Percy,” he whined out, far too loud in the calm forest as he shivered and spilled his seed. The monster was ready for it, licking it all up before it could fall the grass. He leisurely cleaned Newt after, grooming him more then teasing it felt like as Newt gasped for his breath. Newt was set back down onto his hands and knees and he wasn’t surprised when Percival was over his back.

“I really do have to go home,” Newt whispered meekly, face feeling hot and red as the monster over him nuzzled his ear and licked at Newt’s neck. He felt the heat of Percival’s long thick cock brushing over Newt’s thighs, His leggings tangled at his knees still. He leaned forward a bit, pressing his thighs together as Percival arranged himself over Newt’s slight body. Pressing so he could rut his cock against Newt’s thighs. The length already dripping and wet making a mess.  

Feeling so dizzily eager, Newt tried to ignore his spent cock wanting another round. They could go back and forth four or fives times some days. But Newt couldn’t waste time. Still, it would be far too rude to let himself spill and not return the favor. So Newt laid plaint and willing, his body rocked with each lunge of Percival’s powerful form. His cock moving back and forth between Newt’s thighs as he pressed them together, feeling that fat length sliding back and forth.

Percival licked at his ear and the side of his face, scenting his hair and grooming and he rumbled approvingly. Wet sounds filled the air, the thump each time Perceval pressed down, his fur growing wet at his lap and feeling so dirtily wrong and oh so good.

Newt let out soft sounds, rythmic to the each motion. As Percival’s pace increased so did Newt’s moans. The beast going faster now, pumping hard and Newt could feel the slick on his thighs increasing. Percival produced a great deal of seed, often dripping a great deal during sexual acts and coming a big mess as well. Newt could feel and hear the lewd slaps, his skin soaked now. Whimpering as Percival huffed in his ear and fucked his thighs relentlessly Newt could feel himself getting hard and throbbing so fast. The way Percival was pounding against him so stimulating, making him want more, the burn of being filled up.

Newt wanted to be fucked.

They had done so many things together, but Percival had never tried to penetrate Newt, always content between his thighs.

Crying out, he felt Percival began to swell up and puse tellingly. He clenched his thighs at the monster over him growled out and lunged as far as he could, the tip poking out under Newt as it spilled. Newt shover a hand under his belly and cupped the head, the pulse if come into his palm falling to the grass as Newt yanked his shirt higher up to avoid messing it. He didn't have time to wash it in the river.

Percival’s seed overflowed against his palm, dripping down between his fingers, warm enough to be almost hot. Thick and sticky ad percvial snarled out and Newt’s hips rocked on their own, his own cock dragging against the wet grass, everything slicked with Percival’s seed and the slide enough to make him spill a second time. Newt whimpered out, Percival’s tongue on his neck as he shivered and slumped to the ground.  

He let Percival groom him a bit, lazily licking at Newt's skin and hair affectionately. But once Newt feel like he could, he began to wiggle out from under his beastly lover. Percival grumbled but let him, pulling up so Newt could roll to the side and avoid getting the puddle of seed on his leggins. There was bit of course, there always was, but not so much he couldn't wipe it away. His one hand already dripping messily.

With a fond sigh, Newt went about cleaning himself up, getting his leggings back up and going to the river shore to clean himself up as best as he could. Percival followed him lazily, relaxed now that he’d gotten a go at Newt.

“There you go,” Newt told him, going to his side and reaching over to drop a kiss to Percival’s head lightly. “Don’t be all mopy with me when I take a bit to come around again, I really do have to help out with the festival,” he explained gently.

Newt retrieved his bag, glad to see he still had fish and no one had come and stolen them while he was preoccupied.

“Wish me luck? I do really hope this goes well,” Newt called, waving to Percival who remained at the river’s edge as Newt headed back to the village.

It went as Newt expected it would, not great but not horrid either. He didn’t make any new friendships but people were nice to him. He stayed but his family's side mostly, helping Theseus clean his kills and his father gather wheat in the field for the harvest. He helped his mother pick flowers and herbs to dry, working to create a strong offering to add to the village winter storage. Newt was another hand helping but he didn’t bring the same way Theseus did when he caught rabbit after rabbit and a larger deer. They butchered the beasts and put the meat in pickling jars and dried out other cuts to save for the depth of winter. Newt’s father helped grow the wheat and his mother knew her herbs and where to find them. Newt was better at that, knowing where in the forest to find the more rare ones, some even his mother hadn’t know of. Perhaps he could make his worth in that.

Newt woke each morning with his family and worked with who ever needed help that day, right until it was dark and time to sleep. The nights began to grow more colder and they kept the fires burning later. Newt ate bread and bits of meat for lunch during breaks in the fields with his father. He couldn’t work the scythe as well but he was decent at gathering the wheat and tying it into neat bundles. Other days he followed Theseus on the hunt and felt a bit bad for seeing beast more than he ever admitted too.

“It’s not a bad thing, to have mercy in you,” Theseus told him kindly when the took a break and cleaned rabbits by the river.

Newt tried to look confused but Theseus knew him too well for it.

“Your eyes always dart when you see something, but then you hesitate to reveal whatever creature you saw,” Theseus explained. “I use to think you were distracted but now I can see your gaze is far more sharp than you ever admit. You notice more in the winter when we've had bad hunts and need to meat more I realized.”

“Thee,” Newt felt guilt swell in his chest, glancing at the other hunters who were out of earshot.

“It’s ok Newt, to have mercy. The Graves is fond of the forest you know, not just hunting and killing, but life as well, creatures and their natures. You know?” Theseus smiled reassuringly and Newt felt a great swell of affection for his elder sibling. Theseus had always been kind to Newt, doting on him when other siblings in the village fought far more.

“I’m a bit relieved really, you’ve got a really good shot with a bow Newt, if you aimed more to kill you’d probably be far better a hunter than me, then where would I be?” Theseus grinned and Newt felt himself return it.

“You've the favor of the Graves, you'd still be very useful for that alone,” Newt offered.

“I suppose but…” Theseus huffed. “That’s different, I don’t feel like I actually do anything really. I’ve never understood it. To have the favor of someone I’ve never even seen.”

Newt blinked, frowning a bit and glancing at the people not listening to them. Ill talk of the god was very frowned upon.

“Not that I’m not very grateful,” Theseus added quickly, glancing around as if the great god might be lurking around somewhere. “I just don’t understand why he likes me or how to make sure I’m doing what he wants. The elders say I’m doing just fine, but I feel like I should try more.”

Newt bit his lip to hold in all the questions that wanted to pour forth.

“But you see him don’t you? Turing the night festival?”

Theseus nodded his head slowly.

“It’s hard to explain, you don't look at him.”

Newt nodded his head eagerly. Children weren't allowed to the night festival or the offering ceremony. The adults didn’t speak of it either beyond what you were to do. Keep your head down and offer thanks. Looking upon a god enraged them and they would kill you on the spot if you dared to glance up. Some said people couldn’t look at a god without aging into dust immediately. It sounded terrifying and utterly exhilarating.  

“He’s never shown me any attention or anything, he just pauses at our family and seemed to look at us. Then he walks to the altar and takes what he wants and then leaves. It's over in a  few minutes.”

Newt took the information carefully, turning it over in his head.

“No one sees him bring in the favor he gives?”

Graves always brought a deer, shot with a single arrow mark and always right in the head, a instant and painless death. It would appear at their doorstep every morning. Newt could hear the shuffle every time, coming awake but never once daring to open his eyes, heart pounding in fear every time.

Theseus shook his head.

“Everyone gets drunk and stumbles home, some people see it if they stay up all night but no one's ever seen him deliver it.”

Newt chewed his lip and considered keeping quiet. But the ‘thump thump’ of the gods footsteps would echo in his chest every time, the sound of breath like a great beast and the sound of the deer on the doorstep burned into his memory over the years, since he was a boy. Newt had always thought everyone could hear it but never spoke of it.

“You’ve never… heard anything?” Newt whispered meekly and Theseus blinked at him, staring a moment.

“You’ve heard him?” He asked, his eyes going wide in a way that told Newt he shouldn’t have said anything.

The other hunters called them, ready to move on and Newt went hastily feeling his brother’s gaze on him the entire time. Newt avoiding being alone with Theseus after that and his brother left him be, but when he looked at Newt, his gaze was different, trying to place something it felt like.

“You helped with the honey last year,” Theseus mentioned over dinner the next night, Newt looking up at him. He chewed his meat and nodded his head in positive.

“And the flower wreaths the year before, and the jars of rabbit stew before that?”

“A bit, I help with lots of things though,” Newt replied with a bit of a confused frown.

“I know, it’s just, I was thinking and everything Graves takes from the altar you’ve helped with, as far back as I can recall.”

Both of their parents looked up sharply, staring at Theseus.

Newt flushed and looked down at his plate, wishing his brother wouldn’t do this to him. Put such thoughts into his head. Newt wasn’t special, he was just Newt. He had no real skills, why would a god want him of all people?

“But you’re the better hunter,” Newt pointed out. “You’ve the one the village likes best and much better at everything than I am.”

“That’s not true,” their mum huffed, reaching out pat Newt’s arm affectionately.

“We’ve all skills and strengths of our own. Enough of this talk, you’ll bring discord on us,” she warned and they both nodded. Newt sent an apologetic thought to the Graves god, hoping he took no offense. Newt would be very grateful if for some reason the god did indeed favor Newt but was also content to let it be Theseus. He only wanted the village to be happy and safe.  

Thankfully, Theseus kept his thoughts on the matter to himself after that and never said anything to anyone else. No one stared at Newt or mutter about him, just ignoring him as he always had been. Drifting through the village at ease, used to being left alone. He missed his morning walks and having time to visit the depths of the forests. It felt like it had been far too long since he saw Percival, since his body had that sort of relief.

But the festival was tonight and once it was over Newt would have time to himself again. For now he remained dedicated to his family and village.

It seemed both too fast and too slow for the night to come. The village spent the day in a celebration, ending daily duties early to share in a large feast. Music played and children ran wild in the square, a good cheer shared by all. Theseus kept Newt close as usual, making a point to include him in conversations and others followed suit, willing to talk with Newt to please Theseus. Still, it was nice to make light chatter with the people he had grown up around. Newt sipped the mead given to him and looked over the square, his heart content and happy to see everyone else enjoying themselves. This was his home after all, and Newt just wanted to see it do well and flourish.  

#fanfic #gramander #percival graves #newt scamander #wip

[shadowphoenixrider]

Okay, I doubt I will ever get to BFA in Draggka/Khadgar’s story at the speed I’m writing, so I decided just to write the overview here. Because I want to get it down and also because I can. This is going to get loooong!

Before they head to Argus, Khadgar uses his magic to bind both him and Draggka to objects on their persons, so they can keep an eye on one another, and sense if they need help. Draggka is bound to the Draenor ring, which she has been wearing on her neck, unable to part from it even when she found a stronger ring of power. Khadgar, however, binds himself to his collar, since he wears it most of the time. He still won’t tell her why he wore it before this binding, however.

Luckily they don’t really need it, and when they’re busy tussling through Antorus with everyone else, they’re mostly together so it doesn’t really matter. Still, it reassures each other, and occasionally they send their love through it.

(I don’t care what the game shows; everyone shows up to fight Argus at the end. Which means everyone gets one-shot, and Eonar drags us all kicking and screaming back to life. This is relevant, not just for me actually making canon characters pull their weight for once.)

They’re very dismayed to see Sargeras stab Azeroth before he’s put in the Naughty Chair for Badly-Behaved Titans. Khadgar almost slumps on the floor, whilst Draggka bitches loudly that they’re never going to get any peace.

They take some comfort in that whilst the giant sword needs to be dealt with, it’s not got the immediacy of ‘the Legion invading and going to kill us all’, so everyone can afford to take a bit of break. They all very tired, so they do take the opportunity for said break. And a low-key party too; enough people remember that the archmage owes them a banquet, much to his annoyance.

During this break, Khadgar goes hunting for a ring. You see, during Argus, he has a chat with several people and figures that if they manage to survive all this nonsense, he really has no excuse not to marry Draggka. I mean the world nearly ended, and might still end. Not the time to have regrets.

He manages to keep it secret enough that not even Draggka suspects he’s up to something; although rumours that he’s taken a lover (and a troll one at that) are now starting to filter around Dalaran and other places. Mainly because he went ‘I don’t give a flying fuck any more’ on the Vindacaar, and started to show Draggka more affection openly (he didn’t go yelling it from the rooftops though, and has only told Turlaoyn and Alleria straight at this time - anything else is inference).

He manages to find the perfect one (or he finds a good base and makes it better, I’m not 100% with that yet, nor what the ring actually looks like), and asks Draggka if she could maybe find some time to show him one of the wild places she’s always wanted to show him. Draggka takes him to Sholazar Basin when they manage to squeeze some time for themselves.

(Side note: Medivh already knows about Draggka/Khadgar, even before Khadgar told him in Karazhan 2: Demonic Boogaloo. He’s amused and pleased at their relationship, and has cultivated a warming friendship with Draggka.)

After a day spent exploring and admiring the Titan bits, they’re sat under a tree as the sun goes down when he asks her in his clumsy, sweetly shy way to marry him. She says yes, of course. Medivh throws confetti over them

Their wedding is a secret, low-key affair, attended only by close friends and family, and it is an inelegant merge of a human and Darkspear’s wedding rituals. Either way, their bond is sealed under the Light and the Loa to become life-mates, and that’s really all that matters. (There after, Khadgar wears his wedding ring under his gloves, whilst Draggka pierces hers into her nose, as per the Darkspear way.)

They take a honeymoon to Pandaria to fall off the radar for a week, and it is during this trip that Zal’ria is conceived. The pregnancy doesn’t become noticeable until a while after they get back (read: I still need to plot this out properly), when Draggka gets grumpier than usual and starts having bouts of nausea.

Tinkerspring is called, and she reveals the pregnancy to them, and unfortunately, this does not start off as a happy time. There is much talking and hand-wringing, due to the suddenness of the announcement, and the fact the world has a whacking great sword in it and is maybe dying. As well as the factions starting to look at each other with malevolent eyes. It is not the best time to bring a child into the world, but here they are.

They finally agree to keep the child, as they partly don’t know if this might be the only biological one they’ll ever have (what with them being different races and that Khadgar’s fertility at 50 really isn’t great), and that their little one is extra resolve to get this bloody sword done away with, so they can grow up happy and safe. So after this big long talk, they start telling close family/friends, organising where they’re going to raise the young’n, what the room’s gonna look like, etc, etc.

Then of course the war starts.

Draggka immediately alerts Khadgar that shit’s going down, though she can’t give him detailed information in case she’s seen to be engaging in treason (at this point Draggka’s Blood Oath to the Horde is starting to become questionable at best, and tenuous at worst). She manages to avoid direct conflict where possible, incapacitating night elves if she can, whilst keeping her people out of danger. Even so, she finds it very strange that her brother Dranka and her shaman friend Harnaka have been ordered down to Silithus, especially when the rest of her group is in Darkshore.

The Burning of Teldrassil is the straw that breaks the kodo’s back. Draggka is furious at Sylvanas, and also herself at being suckered into another Warchief for whom war crimes seem to be their bread and butter. She immediately flees to Karazhan and Khadgar and bursts into tears in the retelling.

(Dranka is told at this point, and Medivh relays the information to Camdyn/Varian, along with the caveat that Draggka and co. did not want this and will not stand in the way of anyone trying to kill the Banshee Queen - I’ve not yet decided what happens here, but Draggka may swear a Blood oath to Khadgar instead).

Draggka is present at the Battle of the Undercity, keeping up appearances, but she avoids combat again, staying to assist the Forsaken civilians in fleeing, and fighting anyone who tries to cut them down. The apparent loss of Saurfang shakes her, and deep down, this is probably when she starts not to associate herself with the Horde any more. She’s still quite tied to it, both through her friends, her tribe, and her honour (she will fight to aid and defend the races of the Horde), but she no longer includes herself as part of the faction. (That said, her feelings on this are very messed up, and may never be fully unravelled.)

She is roped in to sneaking about Stormwind to get Talanji and Zul out of prison, and she is both surprised and relieved to see that Saurfang is alive. She briefly converses with Saurfang, saying that she learnt from Garrosh, and will not allow herself to be used by Sylvanas. Draggka is appalled and upset by the fire Zul starts, but is unable to aid the citizens, so immediately starts to dislike him. This is exacerbated when Rokhan tells her that he was the one who was attempting to reunite the troll tribes (that Vol’jin opposed), and was behind the mogu nonsense on the Isle of Thunder.

Draggka checks in as soon as she can with a very anxious Khadgar (who sensed her danger on the docks facing Jaina, but was unable to teleport in due to magical interference) and explains what’s going on. From there, Draggka steps into helping the Zandalari and exploring Zandalar, in which she finds great amount of joy - with the combination of the wild jungles and the fact the Zandalari are essentially her people, if not just a little removed.

As Speaker of the Horde, Draggka uses this title to duck out of the War Campaign, leaving it to be handled by others like her brother and friends (also becoming disillusioned and highly mistrustful of Sylvanas), though she does aid in respects that don’t hurt the Alliance (such as hunting for food/materials, fighting faceless ones), and closes up Azerite wounds wherever possible. She does her best to avoid conflict with the Alliance (and those who are aware avoid her too, or just do their best to merely injure her, and vice versa), but if she must defend the Zandalari with deadly force, she does.

Despite everything going on, she makes time for Khadgar, either communicating with him through his Wisdomball, or using portal/hearthstones to return to Karazhan or Dalaran. However, after befriending the Nightborne Lasai, Khadgar receives a Zandalari disguise, that he uses to let Draggka show him around Dazar’alor and the jungles. They use it sparingly so the archmage doesn’t accidentally end up revealed.

During this time, Talanji and Draggka become close friends, and eventually Talanji discovers Draggka’s pregnancy and who her mate is. She’s...bemused, but likes the human mage, and is convinced that he bears her and her people no ill will. And she learns that there are many things afoot in Azeroth, not least the blood troll nonsense and the sudden appearance of Azerite. Draggka does not make comment on Sylvanas, but Talanji learns from Khadgar about the unrest in the Horde.

Draggka was to help her friends take down G’huun, but Dranka and the others fear that the Blood God may harm Draggka’s unborn baby, and go to Talanji for support. Draggka argues that her honour demands that she finish what she started, but a long conversation with Talanji and her brother (with Dranka correctly pointing out what happened with Aegwynn and Sargeras, and also it’s a fucking old god with power over blood that is definitely dangerous to a baby), she agrees to sit this one out.

She won’t be sitting out the Siege of Zuldazar, despite Camdyn and Khadgar’s best efforts (which is going to drive her poor mate mad, but he reluctantly admits that her honour is too strong, and she’s as stubborn as he is), although Khadgar will enchant her Draenor ring so as soon as she’s hurt badly, she’ll automatically teleport to safety. As much as he would want to rip apart whoever hurt her, it’s probably best he doesn’t get involved.

That said, I don’t have much down pat for the Zuldazar raid just because it’s on the PTR and we don’t know much aside from what has been datamined. I still need to do some proper plotting of Draggka’s pregnancy, which could shift things around.

#SPR rambles #draggka/khadgar #oc/khadgar #otp: walk on the wild side #mild bfa spoilers #headcanon #character development #writing reference #god i need to write more

[jbuffyangel]

Against The Ropes: Arrow 6x02 Review (Tribute)

Arrow delivers another strong episode with “Tribute.” We are on a roll! As I've said, I enjoy Oliver most when he’s up against the ropes and punching his way out. In “Tribute” Oliver is fighting against three heavy weights: Samandra, William and Anatoly. He’s not the only one backed into a corner though. John Diggle is too.

Let’s dig in...

Oliver Queen

Oliver doesn’t always have to punch his way out of a problem. He is an intelligent man with a knack for strategic thinking. The photo of Oliver as the Green Arrow puts him in that frame of mind, which is always enjoyable to watch. He also needs a worthy advisary for this cat and mouse game to be any fun, which is what Agent Watson (FBI!!!!!) brings to the table.

However, I don't think Oliver anticipated the emotional fallout from this photograph. It leads to some very interesting conversations with William, and if you can believe it, Rene. By adding William to the mix, "Tribute" suddenly becomes more about Oliver protecting his son from the consequences of being the Green Arrow rather than himself.

Source: olivergifs 

Oliver handles the press with all the schmooze and charm of Tony Stark, but this is DC and not Marvel. We aren't dropping that name. No sir. There are rules about that.

Source:queensarrow

Everybody knows what a huge Batman fan I am, so yes I absolutely squealed at the mention of the Caped Crusader,

but now Arrow opened the door. The image of Bruce Wayne hanging out in Star City, drinking a beer with Oliver while talking dead parents and vigilante-ing is one I so desperately need.

All wishful thinking aside, Oliver's point (and Stephen's line) have a logical point. Any photo can be doctored. A photo doesn't prove anything. Unless the photo actually does prove something, such as this, but that's just details. Keep on dancing Oliver!

Agent Watson is not buying Oliver's charm. She absolutely believes he is the Green Arrow. I mean... the scruff and handsome cleft chin are evidence enough.

The dodge and weave is something that's been missing since Quentin discovered Oliver's identity. These scenes with Watson feel very reminiscent of Season 1. I also appreciate that Arrow didn't ignore the history between Quentin and Oliver. There is no emotional baggage with Watson like there was with Lance. Quentin's rage over Sara certainly put Oliver in his crosshairs, but Watson isn't Lance. There's no messy history with Oliver. It makes her investigation simpler. This is just about the Green Arrow. 

Source:queensarrow

Things come to a head when Watson wants to start issuing subpoenas - including one for William. It leads to an interesting confrontation with Oliver. In Season 1, Oliver would have pretended to be the lazy, playboy, billionaire's son. A man too stupid and too selfish to be The Hood.

Source @olliequeengifs​

Oliver has to change his tactics because his public image has changed. 

Now, he's the mayor.  He's a man who cares deeply for his city, but does so within the confines of the law. Oliver comes dressed in a crispy grey suit. He is the perfect image of a law abiding citizen.  This "image" Oliver is presenting to Agent Watson is much closer to who Oliver Queen truly is. Yet, the charming slickness of the playboy remains. Only now Oliver isn't too stupid or selfish to save the city. He's simply too busy already saving it. During the day. As mayor.

Oliver tells Agent Watson he is an open book - except when it comes to William. Oliver is warm, accommodating and gracious. Until he's not.  

“If I really am the man you think I am, how far do you think such a man would go to keep his son from being scrutinized?”

It's a not so subtle threat. Oliver's voice starts off light, a charming little smile playing on his lips, but by the end his voice drops to that familiar lower octave. His smile disappears and he fixes a steely gaze on Agent Watson. He may be dressed as Oliver Queen, but the Green Arrow is in the room too. Neither the suit or the hood is playing.  Not when it comes to William. If there was ever a scene in which Oliver perfectly walks the tightrope of his two selves - this is it.

Source:  olivergifs

Proof that the photograph is doctored arises just in time (thanks Felicity and Curtis!). 

It takes care of the immediate Agent Watson problem, although not for good. However, this photograph unearthed some long latent fears within William. Fears that will not be solved with quick thinking tech.

William is beaten up by some much larger eighth graders who apparently lack cognitive thinking skills of any kind. At first Oliver is met with a stony silence when he presses William about what happened. (He gets that from you Oliver). Eventually William cracks though and tells Oliver what happened. 

Source: arrowsource

The older kids were teasing William about Oliver "not being there for him" and being the Green Arrow. 

Now, someone is gonna have to walk me around this logic bend cause... WTF? How is Oliver being the Green Arrow mean he's not there for William as his father? You know what? I'm just gonna stop. Bullies never make sense.

The first thing Oliver tells William is to go for the nose. 

Source: arrowsource

YEAH BABY! 

This is the Green Arrow parenting I want to see. Anytime anyone messes with my kid I want to tear their head off. We are sympatico Oliver.

Obviously, we want kids to work through their differences. No need to @ me about the importance of children working through their differences without violence.  It's also important for a child to defend themselves when being attacked, especially if you are Oliver Queen's son.  This is Oliver's world. We saw real parenting confidence in him for the first time. He knows how to handle these types of situations. Oliver teaching William strategy and how to throw a punch is equally as important as math homework in this world.

However, the physical challenges William are the easy problems. It's the emotional ones that are the humdingers for Oliver. William is angry with Oliver for ditching him in the limo to go Green Arrow.  Sometimes I want to punch The Flash too William. I RELATE KID.

Source: westallenolicitygifs

What a heartbreaking line. 

William has gone from a kid who believed so absolutely in the power of The Flash and the Green Arrow to save lives. However, when it mattered the most nobody could save his mother. Not even the Green Arrow.  It brings the much larger issues going on inside William to the surface.

Oliver: I will always come back.

William: Just like my mom?

He’s got ya there Oliver.

Most children do not worry about their parents dying. In their eyes we are invincible. We are immortal. Until we are not. Children only worry about their parents dying when they are given a reason to.

William has been given more than enough reasons to worry. His mother is dead and his father goes out, night after night, to fight the worst criminals the world has ever seen.  Samantha's death is enough to make William fear losing his father, even if Oliver was a mailman,

However, William shows real self awareness when he tells Oliver the fear he carries is worse because his father willfully throws himself into life or death situations. The circumstances surrounding Samantha's death were out of her control. William understands that on some level and that's scary enough. It’s different with Oliver. Every time he leaves the house William fears losing him. However, Oliver’s extracurricular activities magnify that fear ten fold and with good reason.

Oliver tries to reassure William that he has everything under control. That he can handle any bad guy thrown at him.

*whistling*

William: What if you can't? I'll be alone. I'll have nobody.

There it is. What I suspected William is truly afraid of because of course that's what he is afraid of.  William argues Oliver can't understand the fear and pain he carries, but he's wrong. Oliver does understand all too well. 

Source:olivergifs

The image William paints, the one of being all alone, is one his father has lived. Oliver is an orphan. Yes, he may have been older, but Oliver understands the pain and loneliness William feels and fears. He would do anything to protect William from it.

Oliver makes William a promise. However, it is William's response to it that is so astounding.

Source:  westallenolicitygifs

Oliver is not God. William knows his father is just trying to reassure him, but this promise is not in Oliver's control. Oliver cannot bend circumstances to his will. He is not invincible. He is not immortal. It's an inescapable truth that comes with losing a parent.

It leads to a beautiful scene with... RENE??? 

The description of 6x02 said Oliver goes to a surprising source for parenting advice and boy were they right.  Rene can be off putting and downright offensive, but he can also be really funny and gentle. It's in these softer moments with the character that I like him best. One of my chief complaints with Arrow is that, despite having a large cast, the same characters interact all the time. An emotional moment between these two characters is a nice change of pace from their usual sardonic banter.

Oliver: I’ve never lied to my kid before.

The truth is - William is right. Every time Oliver is in the field he may not come back. No one has to tell Oliver Queen about the risks of being the Green Arrow. He absolutely understands and accepts them.  If he wasn't willing to sacrifice his life then he wouldn't be out there in the first place.

The problem is Oliver is not only responsible for himself now.  In some ways, it's the same reasons Oliver feared being in a relationship with Felicity.

He didn't want her to be a target or put her life in danger. Life as the Green Arrow would always interfere with life as Oliver Queen. However, Felicity is a grown woman who can make her own decisions. She's also perfectly capable of taking care of herself. William is none of those things. For the first time, Oliver has someone who is truly dependent on him. So, the question becomes - what is Oliver willing to sacrifice for his child? What is he willing to do to make William feel safe and secure?

The first step is to only make William promises Oliver can keep. Rene is right. Little white lies are often a necessary parenting tool, but no parent can promise their child they'll always come home. Especially not to a child who lost a mother. When William lost his mother he lost his tether. Now he's just floating, listless and afraid. Oliver needs to give William a new tether.

Oliver admits he was wrong. Stephen Amell does such a wonderful job in this scene showing how much it physically pains Oliver to say those words, especially to his son.

Source:arrowsource

HA! Raisa giving William insider tips about Oliver is my lifeblood.

The first promise Oliver makes is:

“I am going to do everything in my power forever to make sure you don't end up in this world alone. I know you think that isn't up to me and that's a fair and smart point, which is why I think I've found so that maybe it can be.”

This promise contains some very interesting phrasing. On the surface it seems like Oliver is hanging up the hood, which by the end of the episode, is exactly what he does. However, the show is called Arrow. He's not hanging up the hood forever. So, how does Oliver keep this promise to William if he puts on the hood again?

I am going to do everything in my power forever to make sure you don't end up in this world alone.

The Season 6 theme is family. The family you are born into and the family you build.  Oliver built a family after he lost his parents. He combated the pain and loneliness with love and friendship. Some of that family includes blood, 

but a lot of it doesn't. 

He needs to combat the fear, pain and loneliness in William the same way - with love and friendship.  Oliver needs to build a family that extends beyond just the two of them. So, no matter what happens to Oliver, William knows he will always be loved, he will always be taken care of and he will never be alone.  The more Oliver folds William into the family he built the less fearful his son will be. Oliver can never replace William's mother, but he can help William find security in this new tether.

Now, don't go freaking out on me that Oliver Queen is going to die. That's not the point of this. This isn't foreshadowing of Oliver's death. I don’t belive that’s where we are headed. We danced that dance in Season 3. 

Oliver doesn't fear death. He fears life. The challenge of his hero's story is in living - not dying. However, Arrow has to address the dangers of vigilantism and the realities of parenting. Arrow is pushing Oliver down the road of a big and beautiful life. One filled with meaning, purpose, love, friends and children. I wonder what’s one way Oliver can expand his family. Hmmm...

But first, William must feel secure with his father before he's ready to expand beyond Oliver. So, this time away from the Green Arrow is incredibly important.

It is not forever though. Eventually, William will come to the decision every person who loves Oliver Queen arrives at. He will learn the Green Arrow is a vital part of who his father is and tell Oliver to suit up again. Essentially, William will join Team Arrow. Maybe he won't be out on the street fighting (not yet anyway), but there are other ways to help. For William, it will be sharing his father with the city. Is that a lot to ask of a ten year old boy? Yes, but that's the point. Selflessness often requires some kind of sacrifice. After all, William is Oliver Queen's son.

John Diggle

What happened to John on Lian Yu is finally revealed! 

Source: dctvpoc

Yes, he caught shrapnel in his shoulder. Yes, it caused nerve damage.  Plus 20 points to everyone who guessed correctly. Minus 100 to every entertainment website reviewer who said it was only mental.  

However, I was not expecting it to be DEGENARATIVE. You mean it's going to get WORSE? 

Minus 100,000 points to everyone because we all lose when John Diggle is in pain.

John is still refusing to fire his gun, because ya know, aim is important. In his defense, Diggle is pretty handy without the gun too. However, Dinah remains concerned. She feels John is compromised out in the field, which puts lives at risk. Dinah wants John to tell Oliver the truth. Diggle wants Dinah to quit bugging him about it.

It's not until Dinah is nearly choked to death that Diggle decides she's right. Diggle needed the gun to save Dinah's life, but he couldn't trust his aim. Not unlike what we saw with Rene last week. Dinah is able to save herself (FOR I AM WOMAN HERE MY ROAR), but John cannot ignore the potential threats to his teammates lives.

So... Rene was almost killed last week when Diggle couldn't fire his gun. However, it's not until DINAH is almost killed that John decides to fess up. Make what you will of that. I’m not saying there’s romance going on right now. I just found it interesting.

Diggle is firm in his decision to tell Oliver the truth right up until Oliver asks him to be the Green Arrow. There's a moment earlier in "Tribute" when Dinah asks John if he's okay. Diggle immediately starts talking about Oliver and the microscope he's under.  

This frames Diggle's mindset perfectly. For six years, Diggle has put Oliver first. John has been there every step of the way helping Oliver with the challenges he's faced, his moral compass and his emotional evolution. This mission, and being Oliver's best friend, has given John a sense of purpose too. John isn't good at putting himself first, which is exactly what this type of injury requires.

There is only one man Oliver would entrust the city to: John Diggle.

Source:  smoak-and-mirrors

What Oliver is asking of John is an enormous undertaking. Diggle also knows what the hood and this mission means to Oliver. The only way Oliver is able to walk away is because he knows he's leaving the team and city in good hands. Perhaps, even better hands.

John keeps quiet about the nerve damage because he doesn't want to let Oliver down. He knows William needs Oliver more than ever. John wants to give Oliver time with his son the same way Oliver wanted to give Diggle time with his daughter. 

Diggle says nothing, so Oliver can walk away. He's putting Oliver Queen first because that's all John Diggle knows how to do. It's also what Oliver would do for him. These two are bromance goals y'all.

There's some serious logistical issues here. If Diggle isn't capable of being in the field as Spartan then he sure isn't as Green Arrow either. How shooting a bow and arrow/crossbow is any easier than a gun is beyond me. 

Arrow better come prepared with a sciencey answer or else I'm calling shenanigans. Regardless, we get a "John Diggle as Green Arrow" centric episode next week and I AM HERE FOR IT.

Felicity Smoak

AND THUS FELICITY SMOAK'S COMPANY IS BORN. We've waited a long time for this my friends.

Felicity spends most of "Tribute" trying to help Oliver wriggle out of this photograph disaster and talking employment with Curtis.

Source:  sharingmyworld

Yes, that's right. Arrow finally addresses how everyone makes a living. 

No you are not living in a parallel dimension. This is still earth. One can only surmise from this scene that the impossible can happen.

Curtis lets it slip that he's been doing a little coding on the side, because he didn't take a dime from Paul in the divorce. Yeah, Paul was a physical therapist. They make pretty good money.  That tracks. Also, their divorce was finalized? Damn those go quick when you don't have kids. Yeesh.

Felicity's Palmer Tech severance is starting to dry up which feels like the truest thing Arrow has ever said because do you know how expensive her clothes are? I DO. I SHOP FOR THEM. THEY ARE INSANE. 

She wants Curtis to toss her some of his side coding business. To Curtis' credit, he does say the coding he's doing is a waste of Felicity's talent.

Felicity ultimately agrees and instead of coding beneath her skill set or working in the dreaded Tech Village again, she decides to go into business for herself - with Curtis as her partner.  Felicity wants to team up and make more cool stuff.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Her absolute insistence that her name comes first throughout the episode, however, is my spirit animal.

Source:  felicitysmoakedit

Felicity is 100% Jobs.

I'm not annoyed Felicity is teaming with Curtis. We knew it was coming. However, my one complaint is it seems like Arrow is constantly trying to give Curtis something to do. Since when does a Felicity Smoak algorithm not work? 

Source:  oliverxfelicity

Arrow needs to avoid the trap of dumbing Felicity down so Curtis can contribute. They need to push their separate talents merging into one great idea, rather than Curtis "fixing" something Felicity made.

That said, I am really excited this storyline is finally getting off the ground. Perhaps, Felicity and Curtis' first invention can be something to treat degenerative nerve damage.

Olicity

Not a lot of Olicity in "Tribute," but never fear. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Felicity is obviously extremely worried about Oliver.  

Source:westallenolicitygifs

Bae is trouble and she is NOT having it. She insists Oliver LAWYER UP, but he doesn't want to look like he has anything to hide.

Agent Watson: Do you know the kind of person who says that?

Oliver: No.

Agent Wilson: The kind that needs a lawyer.

I've watched enough crime shows to know this is absolutely true. I guess I’m done with the book learnin’.

There's a couple "so married" moments too. 

Source:westallenolicitygifs

Felicity signals Curtis to veer closure to the hour mark versus 30 days for the completion of the photograph analysis to ease Oliver's stress. Then, when Oliver questions whether or not Felicity sent them to the correct location we get this gem of interaction. 

 Source:  oliverxfelicity

Felicity:

Don’t question the wifey, Oliver. 

It's a little moment, but I loved when Felicity told Curtis that before the photograph her biggest worry was finding another job. It wasn't her relationship with Oliver or William.  It's just another little signal that Felicity and Oliver are on the same page. Everything will fall into place when the time is right.

However, the best is a “blink and you’ll miss it” moment.

Barry was in the speed force for the last six months. He wouldn’t have been able to give Wiliam that backpack. So... isn’t it more likely FELICITY did? Just a subtle way she can show William she cares without overwhelming him. She’s watching from the sidelines waiting for the right time to go in. 

I don’t care if I’m wrong. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED. I decided.

Anatoly

Anatoly is back and he's a lean, mean, killing machine. He's been outed by the Bratva for being too soft due to his friendship with Oliver. He's out to prove he's anything but. I'm almost as upset over Anatoly and Oliver's break up as I was over Olicity's.

Anatoly puts a bullet in his hostage right in front Oliver. HARSH.  However, Oliver is not able to return Anatoly's kill or be killed sentiment. One reason is because of what he learned from Adrian Chase. The other is because Oliver still cares for Anatoly. He doesn't want to kill him and Anatoly knows it. This will add an interesting push/pull layer between the two characters.

It seems like Anatoly is still adhering to some kind of code, insisting he's still an honorable man. He didn't release the photo of the Green Arrow. That wouldn't be playing fair. Which, of course, begs the question who did? (My money is on Cayden James since Felicity's algorithm was stumped at first).

Anatoly reflects on his honor and what he will and won't do. It is a bone chilling conversation. This is no longer the warm Russian mobster we loved. What replaced is a stone cold killer who is not  so subtlety threatening Oliver's son. This version of Anatoly is a stranger to us. Even to Oliver. It's one of the reasons I believe Oliver hangs up the hood. When Anatoly pulls that trigger he makes it clear to Oliver that he's willing to go all the way. Oliver cannot say the same. However, half the fun will be watching Oliver try to find another way that stops short of killing his old friend.

Stray Thoughts

New title card. Every character gets their own symbol. 

The final three are Felicity, Diggle and Oliver. Their symbols spell OTA. As it should be. Arrow knows how important OTA is.  Source arrowsource 

Dinah has mastered the withering stare.

"I told Zoe she was made from a cloud." My husband starts taking notes.

Rene saying he's a feminist is oddly hilarious.

Not to be nitpicky but Oliver has lied to William before. He didn’t tell William he was his father or the Green Arrow.

Thanks @callistawolf for her brillant heavyweight analogy

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 6x02 episode gifs credited.

#arrow #oliver queen #john diggle #felicity smoak #olicity #oliver and william #arrow 6x02 #arrow reviews #season 6 episode review #arrow spoilers

[eene-fangirl]

The Meaning of Love-ED Chapter 1[An Ed, Edd n Eddy Fanfiction]

Note: This was a request from @nintendogal55 It’s also a sequel to my Jaws/Ed, Edd n Eddy crossover. And also this little piece. Enjoy!

“This is going to be the best! Three nights, under the stars, four best friends,” Edd jollied as they all drove down the road through the countryside.

Ed and May spied the occupants in the backseat through the rear view mirror. Edd and Eddy avoided eye contact, let alone even the possible chance of their knees touching. This was the closest they’d ever been to one another in two months.

“Come on, guys! Perk up! We’re livin’ up the last two weeks of summer, aren’t we?” May hollered to the two gloomy friends.

“This’ll be better then prying our eyes open to go to school in a few days,” Eddy grumped but still smiling. He sat in this position with his leg crossed over the other and using his arms as a head rest. Edd stared, mesmerized, at this position as if the teenagers were one of those statues flexing its built in muscles to all its passersby.

The second Eddy found Edd staring at him Edd whipped his head back around. “I believe it’s a pleasure going back to school. After a summer of letting our minds wander aimlessly it’ll be best to get back into the swing of routine and focus on... what’s important.”

Edd sadly hugged himself while Eddy took quite offence. Luckily, the conversation ended there.

Ed and May frowned. Edd and Eddy breaking up was the worst new anybody could hear. This summer was one of the worst of their lives. What started off as a vacation then turned into a shark attack causing Edd to break up with Eddy. There was hardly any reason to. All Edd had to remark was that he thought they’d be safer.

This was the first time the four of them did something together since June. The months withered by like a snail trying to win a race. Except there was no prize at the finish line. Just the awful knowing that they were going back to school.

Hopefully, just hopefully, something good would come out from this trip.

“Look! We’re here!” Ed marveled seeing the ‘Camp Sarandoga’ sign. “We haven’t been here in ages.”

“I wonder if there’s fish this year,” Eddy said aloud having to look out Edd’s window. Edd could feel Eddy breathing over his shoulder. His warm breath. Edd closed his eyes briefly remembering when Eddy massaged hid shoulders and he’d kiss his neck with his warm lips.

Edd raced out of the car before the vehicle was placed in park.

“Uh... I needed to stretch my legs,” Edd said, his heart sinking into his stomach. “Sitting in a car for long periods of time can induce irregular blood flow.”

Ed gave Eddy’s shoulder a pat who was silently sulking to himself as he got out of the car. He couldn’t remember the last time Eddy smiled. That day at the hospital he remembered Edd running passed him sobbing and then Eddy looking as if he had the life sucked out of him.

“How’s the leg feel, Eddy?” Ed asked looking at the fading scars.

“A little stiff. Maybe some mountain climbing will get it back into shape,” Eddy stated as he flexed his leg. He bent down, popping it in the process. “Ow! Guess I’m turning into an old man faster then I thought!”

The friends laughed finally dismissing that tension in the atmosphere. It was one of the last weekends to enjoy their freedom before summers end. Who wanted to go into a school year feeling blue? Everyone at least needed something to look forward to.

“Wow, look at this camp ground!” May dazzled walking towards the cliff side which had one of the best views she could ever see. It overlooked a forest of trees, a little brook, and it was sure the bring out one of the best sunsets. Their campground was surrounded by a forest of trees which looked as if they’d go on for miles. Maybe even mazes like that topiary maze in The Shining.

“Why didn’t you take me here before, Ed?” May asked as they unloaded the car.

“We kinda forgot about this old place,” Ed answered taking out the sleeping bags. “We loved coming out here. Now we can enjoy it together, my little bunny.” Ed pulled May close rubbing their noses together as if they were bunnies.

The mood changed back to that heartbreak vibe where Edd wanted so badly to rub his nose against Eddy’s so he could touch his soft skin.

“Uh, yes, well, it’s all fun and games but we really must be careful in the woods. It’s been a hot summer. We must watch where we step if we ever go through those parts.” Edd explained as if he were a science teacher.

“Can you lay off being a teacher for a while? It’s bad enough school starts in two weeks,” Eddy joked. Eddy’s little joke actually made Edd laugh. 

The quartet moved on to pitching the tents. Or try. Heck, nobody knew the proper way to set up a tent. First the tent looked as if it were a T-Rex attacking sticks, and then a pineapple. and finally to what conceivably looked as if it could have been a tent. The opening was at least close to the ground.

“We should also find a safe area to put the silverware, and flashlights, of this rope must be in an area where we can locate in emergencies...”

“That probably means we’re never going to find it again,” Eddy snickered.

Edd’s body stiffened. Placing his hands on his hips and turning to Eddy who was rolling around on the ground laughing, Edd gave the teenager a look only a parent would give. “What may I ask does that mean?”

“Nothin’, I’m just saying characters in movies can never find what they’re looking for during the worst times.”

“Is that all?” Edd asked still confused about what Eddy found so hilarious.

“That and you look cuuuu-” Eddy’s voice withered away like one of those heart monitors which tracked a person’s heart rate. He was almost about to lean on Edd’s shoulder like in the old days. Wait, he still did that when they were... just friends. Could he still do that now? It wasn’t using Edd as a perch that he missed. It was hugging him. Wow, that was odd to think, especially coming from the guy who once hated any kind of physical affection.

“- like a cuddly angry cat ready to pounce,” Eddy finished. That was the dumbest line ever but at least it covered him.

---

The stars were breathtaking as the four teenagers sat out on the rocky cliff side enjoying the view together. It was decided that they were going to sleep out in the night. Edd actually obliged. Eddy brought up the time where they ventured out from the cul-de-sac and had to make a resting place in this open area when they were thirteen. Edd was all up in arms and labeled everything.

Edd proclaimed that he’d grown up since then. The truth was that he forgot to bring a tent of his own. Ed and May were already sharing a tent. Eddy brought his own. It had enough room to fit two. Although he wanted so badly to sleep next to Eddy again, or to cuddle his husky body as he cradled his head into the crook of his neck... no, he couldn’t do that.

At least he was laying next to Eddy on the cliffside.

“Can you believe we have to go back to school after next week?” May asked trying to start a conversation.

“We never got to go see the new Avengers movie.” Eddy stated.

“But, Eddy, we never liked those movies,” Ed said,furring his brow.

“That didn’t stop us. We laughed at anything!”

“Didn’t we see ‘Everything, Everything’ at the beginning of the movie?” Edd asked.

Eddy turned his head to Edd. “Yeah, it was just us.”

Edd rose his eyes. “Oh yes, my mistake.”

“What were you going to say about it?” Eddy asked. He wanted to keep the conversation going, but really to see what Edd had to say about the topic. “I remember how you dragged me to see it.”

Edd let out a small laugh. “Yes, I did. You were always so tolerant, Eddy.”

“Ain’t I still?”

“Oh, why yes, Eddy. You’re loyal and trustworthy.” Edd remarked turning on to his side. He wanted to touch his face but remembered they were no longer together. Didn’t he touch it when they weren’t a couple?

Eddy sat up pounding his fists against the rock. “I thought I was immature and dangerous which is the reason why I couldn’t handle a relationship. You know, it’s Ironic how one week after we saw that movie we went to Amity island, ain’t it?”

Oh dear, Ed and May thought. They closed their eyes in wait for the argument. 

“Oh Eddy, don’t think about that. I’d rather we not remember that horrific incident. Forgive me, I should never have brought up the subject,” Edd sadly rolled back onto his back returning to look at the stars. Tears were threatening his eyes. No, it was over... right?

“You’re the one brought it up. I thought you were looking to talk about... something.”

Edd reached over and placed a hand on Eddy’s chest. He immediately took it away. “Sorry. Um,” Edd couldn’t bare to look at him in the eyes. “You didn’t know what you were doing, Eddy. That’s all. Besides, it’s past. The past doesn’t matter.”

Ed and May awaited for the war to carry out. Instead nothing happened. All was quiet. A painful quiet. Was it right that they were out here? They prayed to God hoping that Edd and Eddy would finally talk things out one way or another.

“So anybody want to go hiking tomorrow?” May asked.

#ed edd n eddy #eene #eene fanfiction #EddEddy #EdMay #Jaws

[mf-despair-queen]

Crawling Chaos - Part Two - Void Stiles

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Void Stiles/Reader

Word Count: 5,687

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (both receiving), masturbation, bondage, biting, daddy kink, literally 90% of this is PURE FILTH

Notes: I had no restraint on this. Y’all can blame @minhosmeanhoe for literally demanding this from me, and giving me things to add to this because we would just talk about everything kinky with Void. Lemme know your thoughts!

Part 1  Part 3

Void stormed into the abandoned apartment he had taken refuge in while he was creeping around Beacon Hills, slamming the door behind him. He let out a frustrated groan, throwing the jacket he was wearing across the room. He was beyond annoyed at right now, Scott and the pack having foiled current plans. He punched a nearby wall, cursing to himself.

“Oh, Void baby. Having a rough day?”

He turned at the noise, finding you laying upside down on his bed. Your head was hanging over the edge, looking over at the angry male. Your legs were kicked up into the air, the skirt you were wearing having fallen atop your stomach, giving him a perfect view of your black lace panties. Your breasts were nearly spilling over the top of your low-cut tank top you wore, looking plump and delicious like he remembered them.

Void licked his lips, trudging over to you. “Well, well. Little Crawling Chaos. What brings you back to Beacon Hills? Did the Outer Gods you follow tell you to finally come spread madness with me?”

You frowned at him, unsure if he was mocking your way of thinking. Sitting up on your knees on the tattered bed, you dug in the bag that was placed next to you. “No. I really just came to return your shirt from last time. I got some new clothes when I hit the Kingman area in Arizona, spread a little chaos, then bolted when they started getting suspicious of me for once. Figured I could take a quick detour back here to return it.”

You turned towards him, holding out the piece of clothing. He watched your movements, eyeing you carefully with his dark, whiskey orbs. “Is that really why you came back, kitten?” He closed the gap between you, ripping the shirt from your grasp and throwing it across the room. He pushed you back on the bed, hovering over you. His lips were dangerously close to yours, his hot breath hitting your face. “Are you sure you didn’t come back for another round?”

You glanced down at his lips for a second before locking your eyes with him. You licked your lips, staring at the man above you. “Why would you ever think that, Voidy? What makes you think I’d come back just to be with you?”

He chuckled. “The way you screamed for me when I was pounding into you? Or maybe the way you said next time we could have some real fun?”

You tapped your chin, looking away innocently. “Did I say that?”

He growled in frustration. “Yes, you did. So, what do you say kitten?”

You grinned, wrapping your leg around him, forcing him to collapse onto the bed. You straddled his waist, walking two fingers along his chest. “Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt while I am here.” You climbed off him, stepping away from the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching you shimmy your panties down your legs, twirling them around your finger when you were done. “I took off something, that means you should too. Take off your shirt for me, baby. Then, I will let you have your way with me.”

He groaned, nearly tearing the shirt apart as he yanked it over his head, dropping it over the edge of the bed. He adjusted himself on the bed, subtly watching you pull the tank top over your head. Your strut over to him, pushing against his chest until he was lying back on the bed.

“I have a very important question for you, Voidy.” You paused, biting your lip. “Will you eat me out while I ride your face?” His eyes widened, gawking at your request for a moment before his eyes filled with massive amounts of lust. “I just can’t get over how amazing your mouth feels. I couldn’t help thinking about how it would feel when I’m sitting on it.”

Void tensed with desire, his pants becoming tighter by the second. He shifted on the bed, watching you take slow steps towards him. You were playing with the hem of your skirt, partially lifting it so he could see your juices flowing down your legs, coating your inner thighs.

“Fuck kitten. Get over here. Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” You blushed, shuffling your feet until you were next to the bed. “That’s right, kitten. Come to daddy.”

You grinned, pushing his chest until he was flat on the bed once more, carefully straddling his face. His hot breath fanned over your pussy, sending a shiver down your spine. His nose brushed against your clit as his tongue licked a long strip along your folds. You mewled at the action, your hands gripping at the rusty, metal headboard.

“Daddy, please don’t tease me,” You whined, your knuckles turning white from your tight grip on the metal. He silently obliged, shoving his tongue deep into your pussy, swirling it around in circles. His hands gripped at your thighs, feeling them tremble under his touch. “Oh daddy. Just like that.”

He groaned in content, licking his way through your pussy faster. He traced every inch of your inner walls, gathering every bit of juice that tried to escape. Your moans got louder and filthier the faster and deeper he went. Your hips shift against his faced, grinding your pussy into his luscious lips. The action made Void’s cock jump in his jeans, his tongue reaching deep into the depths of your pussy.

His tongue pulls away, finding its way up to your clit. His lips wrapped around the enlarged nub, flicking his tongue over it repeatedly. Every touch from his tongue caused you to shake spastically, screaming his name loudly through the entire room. You were writhing above him, pressing yourself as close as possible to him.

He resumed his assault on your pussy, trying to drive you to your peak. He didn’t notice your reach into your bag that was conveniently positioned directly next to his head, right where you had left it. He didn’t register you lacing your fingers with his as his name continued to slip off your tongue. He didn’t feel your tying his hands together to the metal headboard with a thick piece of rope. He was busy concentrating on wrapping his delicious lips around your clit once more, sucking harshly at it. His teeth nipped at the nub, tugging at it relentlessly. You trembled once, your juices leaking out of your pussy, the sticky white substance coating his lips and tongue. He happily lapped at the liquid, drinking every drop he could.

You relaxed from the mild orgasm, climbing off him carefully. He attempted to protest, reaching out to grab at you, finding his arms stuck to the headboard. He tugged a few times, every attempt in vain as he couldn’t get loose. He let out a growl, turning his head to face you, watching you wipe away some excessive liquid from your legs.

“Kitten, what the hell is this? Is this some sort of joke?” He jerked at the restraints, failing miserably once more. “Let me out, kitten!”

He giggled, sitting next to him on the bed. Your fingers traced random shapes on his chest, your eyes avoiding his. “No can do, Voidy. You’ve had your fun.”

He growled maliciously, his nails digging into his palms from his anger. “What do you think you are doing, kitten? This is my game! We made this clear last time!”

You finally glanced at him, a dark, mischievous glint in your eyes. You gave him a devilish smile, your shiny teeth glinting with misfortune for him. “Oh Void. You would like to think that, wouldn’t you? Well, let you tell you a little secret.” You moved closer to him, leaning over him so your face was directly over his. “You lost the game as soon as you let me in that night.”

Your tone was dark, almost sinister in nature. Void couldn’t help was shiver, slightly aroused by the dark demeanor, but also slightly frightened. He wasn’t used to being on this side of the fence, but there was something about it that intrigued him. He licked his lips, eying you closely. “Well, now that you have me where you want, what are we going to do?”

You could hear the taunting tone he held, backing away from him to look at him. “We’re going to play a game. This time, by my rules.”

He huffed, giving you a look of discontent. “Really kitten?” He scoffed casually, giving you a small smirk. “Fine. I’ll humor you. What are the rules of your game, kitten?”

You gave him a smug look, reaching behind you to unhook your bra with one hand. You slipped the straps off your arms, dangling the infernal human contraption you detested between your fingers in front of him. He watched you stroll around the room, your tits bouncing with every step you took. “Well. I was thinking we could play with your endurance.” He cocked an eyebrow at you, seeing your grin widen. “We’re going to see how long you can go without cumming. If I’m pleased with the result, then I will reward you.”

He bit his lip, holding back the moan that threatened to release. He was agitated, but couldn’t deny that he was aroused. You step closer to him, Void able to see the dark glint in your eyes. You twirled your hair around one finger, using your free hand to trace shapes on his chest. “Kitten, you are playing a dangerous game you know. Just wait until I get out of this.”

You giggle quietly, shifting so you straddled his waist. “If you get out, Void. You may be a thousand years old, but a lot of that time you spent locked away by the Nemeton. As for me, I’ve been alive. Thriving while you have been sleeping. I have mastered things you couldn’t possibly have imagined.”

His eyes widened for a second before returning to his angry expression. “How the fuck do you know all of that?”

You slyly smiled at him, grinding your hips against his. He let out a quiet moan, his hips jolting up as a result. “I have my ways. But that’s not important right now. For now, you may want to focus.”

He gave you a curious glance, watching your hands grab your tits, fondling them in front of him. His mouth slightly fell open, watching your head fall back as moans slipped from your lips. Your fingers tweaked your nipples, your hips pressing deep into him. “Oh god Void.”

He moaned loudly, tugging at the restraints to grab at your tits. He wanted to run his tongue over every inch of your smooth skin, biting at every sensitive spot your tits had to offer. He wanted to suck on your hardened nubs, hearing you howl in pleasure. His dick grew harder at the thoughts, straining in his jeans and pressing up into your moist pussy. You moaned louder at the feeling, waves of desire rippling through your being.

“Kitten, let me suck them,” he demanded, jostling his hips with yours. You lurched forward, your hands supporting yourself on his chest, your tits near his lips. He groaned when he couldn’t reach his desired targets. “Do I have to fucking beg, kitten?”

You hummed, thinking it over for a second. “Begging would be nice to hear from you. The big, bad Nogitsune, begging to suck some titties. But I’ll be nice for now. You just have to say please for now, because I will have you begging by the end, baby.”

He glared at you, furious with everything. You were mocking him, and he was helpless, unable to do anything to stop you. You knew how to push him, and now he was tied around your finger. You used his greed and his massive craving to tease you against him. He bit the inside of his cheek, the words dripping from his tongue like venom. “Please, kitten. Let me suck your tits until you are screaming my name more than before.”

You huffed slightly, staring at him. “I don’t really like your entire answer, but I guess I will be nice.” You shifted your hips against him, propping yourself up on your knees. You hovered above him, licking your lips in anticipation, Void repeating your action. His eyes were transfixed on you, your hardened nipples directly above his mouth, barely out of his reach. He grumbled, making attempts to reach his prize. You let out a laugh before leaning down, feeling his lips wrap around your nipple completely. Your laughs turned into moans, feeling his tongue rapidly flicking your nipple, his teeth nibbling at the nub harshly. “Fuck, Void. Your mouth is definitely magical.”

You felt his lips tug upwards in satisfaction, sucking harder on your tits. You mewled happily, your body shaking with the feeling of his tongue. He swapped between your breasts, repeating his restless assault on your nipples. He left countless marks on your skin, enjoying every second he had to pleasure you.

You whined, slipping your fingers under your skirt, sliding the along your folds. “Holy fuck. Baby, I’m so wet for you.” He broke from your nipple at your words, catching sight of your fingers under your skirt. He watched you adjust your position, sitting back on his waist, your legs outstretched on either side of his head. One hand held you up, the other lifting your skirt to give him a perfect shot of your dripping pussy.

You spread your folds with two fingers, using your middle finger to trace along your clit. You let out a happy sigh, leaning your head back at the feeling. Void watched in awe, his cock twitching repeatedly, pressing into the top of your ass and lower back through his jeans. The watched your perfectly manicured finger draw circles on the swollen nub, letting out breathy moans out with every complete rotation. He licked his lips slowly, wishing he could latch onto your sweet pussy.

“Come on, kitten. You can do more than just play with your clit. Finger yourself for me. Think about when I did it last time and how you screamed when I scissored your perfect little pussy.” He sneered, his verbal jab sending shivers up your spine.

You glanced down at him, pulling your fingers from your clit. “You are in no position to make demands like this, Voidy. Remember one little thing. I’m in control baby. You can’t do anything about that. You can’t touch me, or leave marks on me. You can’t willingly do anything to me. But me? I can do whatever my heart desires, baby. And I will only finger myself because I know it will drive you mad that you can’t touch me. That you can’t taste my sweet juices, the juices that you crave so dearly. How does that sound, Void?”

You watched Void’s glare tighten, his knuckles turning white from gripping them so hard. “You’d like to think that, kitten. Just you wait.”

You grinned evilly, letting out a quiet laugh. Your fingers dipped into your entrance, letting out a moan. “Oh Void. You should be happy I didn’t bring any toys with me. Can you imagine me playing with myself with a vibrator? It doesn’t compare to the real thing though.” You grinded your ass against him, feeling his dick harden more, if that was even possible at this point. He grunted, jerking his hips upwards at you. “See? You’re turned on just thinking about it.”

You giggled, letting your head fall back as two fingers slipped into your pussy. They moved quickly, your body shaking at the feeling. It definitely wasn’t the same as when he did it. You couldn’t reach the same depths Void did, nor were your fingers large enough to fill you with ease. But you continued to pump anyway, feeling your fingers working you to the brink, pumping your pussy fluidly. Your ears could faintly pick up Void’s small groans, but you felt every shudder than ran through his body and every jerk his cock made in his pants.

You imagined his fingers working you, mumbling his name seductively. Your fingers pumped faster and harder, your walls tightening occasionally around them. Void watched your pussy twitch to your fingers, your body squirming in delight at your nearing orgasm. He felt a twinge of jealousy that he was not the one bringing you to your peak, and he let you know through a loud grunt. You smiled to yourself, coating your fingers with your juices, feeling it leak down your leg and onto his stomach.

You pulled from your pussy, rubbing the liquid between your fingers. Void swallowed thickly, feeling himself slightly drooling at the sight in front of him. You leaned closer, sticking your fingers in your mouth, licking them clean of all your juices. Void groaned, shifting his hips so that you leant forward more, your shoulder landing close to him. He eyed you carefully, seeing you focused on cleaning your fingers before he shifted his sight to the bare skin of your shoulder. He grinned, leaning forward until he sank his teeth deep into your flesh.

You yelped in surprise, nearly biting down on your fingers in shock. His teeth burrowed deep into the soft spot of your shoulder, his tongue running over your skin. He could taste bits of blood from the intensity of his bite, slightly enjoying the metallic taste in his mouth. You quivered above him, trying not to move too much and having him tear at your flesh.

He finally released, staring at the dark red mark he had left and the indentations from his teeth. You leaned back carefully, placing your hand on the mark, wincing slightly. “That hurt like a bitch. Did you have to do it that hard?”

He sneered at you, watching you rub the wound. “You’re the one that said I couldn’t do anything while you were in charge. I just proved you wrong, kitten.”

You huffed, shuffling back on top of him. Your hips pressed into his, rubbing your wet pussy to him. “I guess you’re right. I guess I have to punish you now, Voidy.” He gaped slightly, at a loss for words. You leant forward, placing soft kisses to his chest. “You know you have a great body here. You definitely chose a looker to possess. Kind of frail and fragile, but an athlete, I can tell. There is muscle, and look,” you ran your tongue over his stomach, tracing the faint lines of the six pack that existed, “sexy abs. Not to mention the giant cock on this one.”

He groaned at your words, shifting at the feeling of your tongue running along his body and the kisses you left in its path. You kissed every open spot you could, sucking gently on his nipples when were at his chest, nipping at the tiny buds softly. You left red marks in random spots, littering his body in bites and hickeys. He was distracted, his mind foggy from the enjoyment. He didn’t realize it had happened till pain struck his body, your teeth sunk deep into the side of his hip, his jeans pulled down just slightly so you could dig at his flesh. His hips jerked at the pain, feeling your teeth stuck in his side and your lips sucking around it.

“Kitten, really? Is this how it’s going to go?” You pulled away, licking around his newly formed wound gently before sitting up, unbuttoning his jeans under you. It popped open easily, your fingers fiddling with the zipper tauntingly. You saw the unamused look on his face, sticking your tongue out at him before climbing off the bed, tugging the material down his legs. Void let out a sigh of relief, his cock springing free from its confines. He was glad he was no longer restricted, seeing as his jeans had become abnormally tight since he saw you on his bed.

You rolled your tongue over your lips at the sight of his giant cock slapping his stomach, wiggling at its freedom. It twitched sporadically, desperate for some form on contact. You slid up his body, gripping his shaft in your hand, running the tips of your fingers over the red, swollen head. His pre-cum soaked into your skin, the sticky liquid coating them quickly. You smiled, looking up at him.

“You know, maybe I haven’t teased you enough to get you close to cumming. You’ve gone way too long with this. Let’s fix that, shall we?” You flipped around, straddling his face, one leg on each side of him. He moaned louder than normal, his mouth watering at the dripping pussy in front of him.

You stroked him gently, dabbing your tongue at the tip to taste the salty-sweet liquid. He moaned again, biting at the insides of your thighs in response. It wasn’t nearly as hard as the one of your shoulder, but you knew he was leaving plenty of marks along your skin. You let out a small whimper, clutching his cock tighter. “Voidy, this isn’t fair. No more biting. Is that really what you want to do when I put my pussy in your face?”

He chuckled, his breath hitting your core. You jolted at the feeling, letting out a high-pitched squeal. You fought the urge for a blush to rise to your cheeks, ashamed of the sound you let slip out at such a simple action. “Hey. I liked that sound, kitten. You like when I’m down here, blowing on your pussy? Or would you rather I just do this?”

He shoved his face in your pussy, his tongue delving deep into your core. Your squealed again, digging the nails of one hand into his thigh. You were already shaking, feeling his tongue rolling around inside of you. You let out one quick breath, wrapping your lips around him. He stuttered in his attack, resuming when he felt you running your tongue along his shaft, tracing the underside where you had located a pulsing vein.

His nails dug into his palms, his tongue diving deep into the depths of your pussy. He lapped at the juices that fell onto his tongue, stroking your walls gently, and twirling the appendage in circles for maximum effect. You sighed in happiness, lovingly sucking at the tip of his cock and trailing your tongue along the entire length, swirling it around him occasionally. You would pump what couldn’t fit in your mouth, playing with his balls as you did. You simultaneously pleased each other, trying to get the other to their peak.

Void found it hard to focus. He wanted to make you orgasm, but he had to focus on keeping his own suppressed. You made it hard on him though, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly and your hollowed-out cheeks for maximum pleasure. He twitched in your mouth, resisting the urge to send his seed straight down your throat. He focused on you, swiping his tongue up to your clit and flicking it feverishly. He knew you were close, your body having violent spasms constantly.

You let go of his cock, feeling the coil in your stomach unraveling quickly. You clawed at his legs, leaving long red scratches along his skin, approaching your peak faster than you imagined. In one measly second, you were shuttering with your orgasm, your liquid dripping down your leg like a flood. Void lapped at the juices, relishing in the taste he wished he didn’t crave so badly.

Your body slowly calmed down, letting out small puffs of air as Void finished licking at the juices that escaping. You crawled off him, settling between his legs carefully. His cock was pressed between your tits, hard against your sternum. You stared up at him, locking eyes with him. “You did pretty good holding off with that. I’m surprised.  Though I don’t appreciate the marks you left all over my legs.”

Void huffed. “Payback, kitten. You’re the one that littered my chest with marks. And bit my hip. And left scratches on my legs.”

You beamed at him, placing a light kiss to his cock. “So we’re even then. Now, back to work.” You pushed your tits together, closing them around his shaft. He bit his lip, watching you jerk his cock with your tits, occasionally wrapping your lips around the tip to suck at it.

“Fuck, kitten. That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled, fighting back any noises that wanted to release. You hummed in response, flicking your tongue over the tip. You rubbed your tits along his shaft, working him closer to the end. “Aw fuck it, baby.”

He couldn’t resist your subtle movements, thrusting his hips upwards, fucking your tits rapidly. You grinned widely, letting out a small moan. His silence was broken quickly, a loud spring of curses flowing from his mouth. A thick layer of sweat coated his forehead, quickly nearly his end. Between the blowjob and the boob job, he was unable to hold off any longer. His seed shot out into your open mouth, coating your face, hair and tits and his stomach with whatever missed your mouth. You swallowed every drop that landed on your tongue willingly, licking his tip clean of anything that was leftover.

You watched his eyes close, taking deep breaths from the orgasm. You silently climbed off him, grabbed a towel that had been abandoned in a heap in the corner of the room. You wiped away the excuse cum from your body, taking a second to clean his stomach as well. You shimmied from your skirt, leaving it on the floor at the end of the bed, straddling his waist once more.

Void’s eyes snapped open, looking up at you. “What now, princess? I lost your game, so what is my punishment?”

You smiled down at him, rubbing his cock along your pussy. He groaned, already feeling himself becoming hard again, and quickly. He repeated his question, annoyed by your radio silence. You just continued to smile, hardening his cock under you. He went to repeat the question for a third time when you adjusted his cock at your entrance, sliding down onto him completely. His question was replaced with a loud moan.

You moaned, feeling him pulsate inside you, pressing into your walls and filling you completely. You looked at him through your eyelashes, biting your lip. “Who said you lost? I said the rules were you had to please me by lasting. And you pleased me. Now I’m going to fuck you. Because I need you baby.”

Void shuttered at your words, watching you shift your hips against his, his cock slipping in and out easily. Your inside was soaked still, coating his cock so it easily slid into you with each movement. Your movements were slow and tantalizing, leaving you to enjoy the feeling of his cock inside of you, leaving nothing untouched.

Void grumbled, attempting to jerk his hips upwards but failing when you pressed his hips deeper into the bed with yours. You didn’t allow him to move, resting your hands on his chest, using it as support. He bit his lip harder, heaving a gigantic sigh. “Kitten…”

You looked down at him, halting your movements. You raked your nails along his chest, drawing small shapes on his skin. “Yes, Voidy?”

He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Please, kitten. Please fuck me like you mean it.”

You laughed loudly, your face hurting from smiling. “I told you you would be begging, Void. Let’s hear you beg some more.”

You rolled your hips faster against his, his cock nearly slipping out from your pussy before it was slipped back inside to the hilt. He moaned loudly, his cock pulsing more inside you. He watched you lean back on your knees, your hands tangling into your hair. Your tits bounced happily with each thrust, his eyes drifting to watching his cock disappear inside of you each time. He saw your juices glisten on his skin in the faint light of the room, licking his lips in delight.

“Fuck kitten. Keep going.” His head fell back against the pillow, feeling you picking up the speed even more. “Fuck! Just like that, baby. God, you feel so good.”

You couldn’t contain yourself, leaning forward to smash your lips against his. He groaned in response, leaning in mesh his with yours completely. You let his tongue sneak passed your lips, fighting with yours. His head was tilted to completely envelop your lips with his, his rough, chapped lips pressed to your soft ones. Your tongues fought visibly for dominance, entangling themselves together in sloppy playfulness.

You pulled from him slowly, slowing your movements to a complete stop. He let out the tiniest whine, unaware he even did it. “Kitten, why did you stop?”

You placed a quick kiss to his lips, letting them linger atop his for a second. He could feel your lips move as you spoke. “I want to try something, but you’re going to have to help me.” He nodded, overly enthusiastic about it. You smiled, kissing him one more time, slipping his cock from inside of you. You slowly flipped around, your back facing him. You looked back at him, seeing the bemused look on his face, trying to figure out what you were up to. “Just trust me, Void.”

You sat on the balls of your feet, aligning his cock to your pussy, sliding down on it quickly. He groaned at the new feeling, the angle different than any of the past positions he had down with you. You moaned, feeling his cock resting against your g-spot, your body shaking just from sitting there, unmoving.

He shifted under you, hearing you squeak from the smallest movement. “What is your plan, kitten? What am I doing?”

You carefully leaned back, your hands resting on his chest. You took a deep breath, the knot in your stomach tight. “I-I need you to thrust upwards. I need you to pound up into me, baby.”

He smirked, licking his lips quickly. “I think I can do that, kitten.”

He planted his feet firmly into the bed, slamming his cock up into you quickly. You screamed loudly, feeling his cock hammering away at you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. “Holy shit, Void! Fuck me! Keep going, baby!”

He took in your words, moaning in response. He worked harder than he knew was possible, his cock pulsing endlessly. Your walls were tight, closing around him with each thrust. His head dug into the pillow, already feeling his orgasm fast approaching because of how tight and fast everything was. “Fuck, kitten. You feel so good. I could fuck you forever.”

You mewled, your body jolting upwards when he pounded into you furiously, the knot beginning to unravel. You shifted one hand down to your clit, making sure you were not putting too much pressure on the chest of male that was busy fucking you. You rubbed at the nub frantically, feeling the warmth filling your entire lower region. You whined loudly, your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“Fuck, Voidy. I’m so close. I-I’m gonna…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, hearing Void mumble a quick “Me too, kitten. Let it go.” into the air. Your core tightened, every nerve in your body acting on its own. Liquid coated the sheets under you, your juices splattering your walls around his cock at the same time. Your toes curled into the sheets, your back aching and your head falling back. Void saw your face twisted in the pleasure he knew he had caused you, spurring his own release. His hips jerked randomly, sloppily pounding into you. His seed shot out, mixing with your juices. Your pussy became warm from the addition of his cum, a fuzzy feeling flooding your body. You were elated, filled with bliss.

You pulled off him, collapsing on his side. He was puffing for air, worn out from the intense thrusting he had performed. You sighed happily snuggling into his side, relaxing from everything that had happened.

“Kitten,” he mumbled, obviously tired. You looked up at him, giving him a questioning look. “Did you just squirt?”

You blushed profusely, sitting up rapidly. “I-I uh…”

He chuckled, his voice kind of deep and raspy. “That was kind of hot. You should do that more often.” You huffed at him, smacking his chest. You climbed off the end of the bed, redressing yourself casually. His eyes were locked on you, seeing you adjust your clothes. “Where are you going?”

You grinned at him, grabbing your bag from the floor, having been knocked off in the mess of everything. “Oh you know. Got some chaos to spread up north now. I was headed to Oregon I think.” His mouth fell open. “What? I told you just came to give you back your shirt. I did that, now I’m leaving.”  You walked over to him, placing a quick kiss to his lips. He groaned, not wanting you to pull away. You slipped your panties in his hand, giving him a wink. “But I’ll be nice and leave you a little present.”

He watched you head towards the window, struggling against the rope still. “Um, kitten? I think you’re forgetting something.” He nodded up at his bound hands.

You smiled, opening the window. “Don’t let that McCall pack get you down, Voidy. Show them what chaos can really do.” You blew him a kiss and a small wave. “Love ya.” And with that, you disappeared out the window into the darkness.

Void grumbled, struggling more. “Kitten! Get back here and untie me!” He was met by silence, his head falling back onto the pillow. “Oh kitten. You don’t know what you started. I will get even eventually. We’re not done with this game.” He glanced down, seeing his cock stiff, standing up prominently.

“Fuck. Not again.”

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