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mistress-and-servant · 3 years

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Just a Tear

“Go change,” she said to him, sternly.

She was sitting at her vanity, powdering her face when he walked in. She didn’t even turn around to say that, merely glanced at him through the mirror. Charlie was momentarily shocked, but then nodded to her and quickly made his way back to his room to put on his maid outfit. This was a common occurrence for him. Sometimes she’d demand to see him in his maid outfit, while other times she didn’t mind the butler one. But he would gladly change for her whenever she asked.

The maid outfit was slightly more revealing. The skirt portion didn’t even go past his mid thigh, and there was a cat head hole right where his chest was. It showed off a bit of his cleavage squishing out against it. The sleeves were tight right below his shoulders. It was a bit more difficult to move around in this outfit, but he’d never complain to his Mistress. He quickly made his way back to her door and knocked.

“Enter.”

He opened the door and shut it behind him as he walked in. He stood behind her, just like earlier. This time when she glanced up, she smiled and slowly turned around in her seat. There was a spark in her green eyes.

“That’s better. Now, Charlie, do me a favor and do not take that outfit off till you burst out of it.”

Charlie paused, and blinked a few times to catch up with what he heard. His maid outfit had started to show how much he’s grown, but even with how ill fitting it had become he wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to completely outgrow it.

“Do you expect me to even wear it while I sleep, Mistress?”

“Oh heavens of course not-“

He sighed in relief.

“- I expect you to do it today kitten.”

His eyes widen and a blush began to form on his chubby cheeks. She giggled.

“Oh stop. I know you can do it. I would suggest you sit around and just stuff your face till it happens, but I know how much you don’t like ignoring your duties.”

He nodded, he hated the idea of not doing anything at all. He was her butler after all. And if he did nothing at all, then how was he ever to keep his worth?

She continued, “ Yes, so since you need to be doing something, I suggest that as long as you are working, you are also eating.”

She got up from her seat and walked up to him. She placed her small hand on his tum and patted it. It gurgled, reminding him that he had yet to eat today. “I want to see you eating something all day, no matter what. I’ll make sure of that.”

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Breakfast was the easiest. She didn’t add anything to his simple meal of eggs, bacon, toast and a cup of whole milk. He was sure that she would add a pastry of some kind, but she just sat there with her own portion and smiled. After taking and cleaning their dishes, he got started on making a list of things that needed to be bought for the home. He would receive lists from the head chef and head housekeeper, and he would then in turn check the stock room and pantry to make sure everything was listed off.

It was in the stock room that he heard someone come into the room. He looked and saw his Mistress come in with a plate of cookies. When she got to him, she immediately shoved a cookie into his mouth. He had no choice but to eat it, and it was delicious. It was still warm, and it was crunchy on the outside but soft on the inside. The chocolate chips were gooey, coating his mouth as he chewed. As he finished it, a second one was pushed into his mouth. This went on as he continued to check the stock. Cookie after cookie would pass through his lips with no room in between them until finally there was none left. She smiled at him and finally left him alone again. It wasn’t till then that he noticed a slight bit more pressure in his tummy. He rubbed his belly and burped into his fist before continuing on with his work.

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This continued on throughout the morning. Treat after treat would make his way to him, and his Mistress would happily feed him as he worked. She fed him slices of cake, batches of brownies, plates of cookies, and other such desserts until it was finally time for lunch. He had just finished a plate of scones and was now slowly making his way to the kitchen. He was full, his belly now pushing against his maid outfit. He could have sworn that the fabric was slowly inching its way higher up his legs, showing more and more skin as it went. The end of his skirt was barely covering the top of his thighs, and soon would start showing the very bottom of his belly. Yet there wasn’t a tear yet, he was afraid that he wouldn’t burst out of the outfit and it would simply no longer cover his body.

He held his belly as he walked, trying to stop it from sloshing around and causing more discomfort. He hiccuped and burped softly as he got closer. But before he could enter, his Mistress came out and blocked him.

“Oh no no no. You are to sit at the dining room table. I will bring you your meal.”

He was about to protest, but she began to push him away. “Go on now. I know how hungry you must be,” she teased. He relented and made his way to the table. As he was slowly lowering himself onto the seat, he felt something give, and his belly expanded a little with the extra room. Upon inspection, he found that the bow to his apron had come undone, and now the flaps were loosely on his sides. It didn’t count, but it gave him hope that maybe he’d be able to stop soon.

He inspected his clothing further and found that, when sitting, his skirt barely covered his legs at all. The ends of the fabric were just shy of exposing his belly. He patted his tum, causing it to gurgle. He was so full already, but he knew his Mistress would not stop till he burst out of his clothes. He hiccuped, causing his belly to wobble, and he groaned. He hoped he'd be able to get up after lunch.

Half an hour passed before his Mistress entered the room. With the little time he was given as a break, he was starting to breath a little bit easier. His tummy was still full, of course, but he was finally relaxing, until he wasn’t. The Mistress brought in two plates with her. One with a bowl of creamy potato soup with bits of bacon in it, the other with a sub cut in half with cheese and tomato sauce oozing from the sides, a classic chicken parm sandwich. They both smelled amazing. Even with his full tummy he began to drool at the thought of eating them both. He rubbed at his belly, momentarily forgetting his fullness.

His Mistress sat the two meals down and motioned for him to eat, which he did with no hesitation. He began with the bowl of soup. It was warm and creamy. The bacon was salty, and as he lifted up his spoon he saw that there were globs of cheese and chunks of onion and carrots mixed in. He savored the flavors, and before he knew it the bowl was empty. He stifled a burp in his hand and began to rub his tummy. Not only did he feel how stretched his belly was, but also the fabric of his dress. He didn’t understand how it could still contain him after everything. He swore that he could hear creaking, he just wanted it to tear already. His belly gurgled and a burp slipped past his lips. He blushed as his Mistress pushed the next plate in front of him. Charlie picked up the sandwich and began to eat again.

Slowly he made his way through it. Bite after bite of cheesy, saucy chicken and bread slid down his throat and expanded his tight gut. He groaned as he felt his stomach grumble even more. He tried to push his belly out in hopes that the dress would finally give but it just held on. Even after the last bite joined the rest in his packed gut, not a single thread had given out. He let his head fall back and didn’t try to hide the burp he let out. He was just so tired from the heavy weight in his belly sitting on his lap, still covered by his maid outfit. He barely registered the hand slowly rubbing circles into his belly. His Mistress pushed a finger against his stomach and felt how tight he felt.

“I really thought for sure you’d rip through this by now.” She placed both hands on either side of his wide expanse and gave him a gentle squeeze that still made him groan at the discomfort. She stopped and continued with her rubbing circles. After a few minutes of caressing his stuffed midsection she got up and stood beside him, grabbing his right arm.

“Come, it probably isn’t too comfortable sitting like this. Let's get you to a more comfortable spot.”

He moaned at the thought of moving, but after a moment's hesitation he began to slide himself closer to the seat edge. He used one hand to grip the dining table, and the other to support his tum to prevent any unnecessary movements. Slowly but surely he got onto his two feet with the help of his Mistress, his belly wobbling as it was pulled down by gravity. The weight making him have to arch his back to give his belly more room. He hiccuped and groaned and clutched at his middle, his Mistress leading him towards her personal Reading Room. She led him towards the plush coach they’d both use to sit next to each other during lazy days. She made sure that he slowly and carefully sat on the cushions and then pushed him into a lying position. With laying on his side his belly was no longer pulling at his back, now being supported by the soft pillows. He was both more comfortable and still in pain by the sheer volume in his tummy. His Mistress sat down next to his head which then made him want to pull himself closer to her to put his head on her lap. He struggled a little before she granted mercy on him since all this began and shimmied closer for him to snuggle into her. She began to run her fingers through his hair. With now being close to his Mistress, he began to purr softly and gently fell into a food coma, his tummy slowly digesting all the things he’d eaten .

The last thing he heard before slipping into darkness was, “Maybe when you wake up we can continue working on tearing this outfit.”

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altarfall · 4 years

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some Thoughts i’ve been having for a while and have returned today

just over a year ago, at my church’s young adults group, we were talking about heaven. i’m not sure if that was the Topic of the Night but either way we were talking about it in groups and sharing about what our ideas of heaven would look like. ofc everyone gave the standard evangelical answer of heaven being a place without imperfections, illnesses, disease, or darkness. my group leader asked us if we had any questions or thoughts, so i asked him,

“what happens when disabled and neurodivergent people go to heaven? do they lose that part of themselves?”

he had a hard time understanding my question (maybe a language barrier thing; i was speaking fast and using big words) so i gave an example.

“when somebody with autism goes to heaven, what will happen to them? will they become like everyone else? their entire person will completely change, won’t they?”

he paused for a minute and then admitted that he’d never thought about that. that was one of the first moments i realized i was wondering about something that was bigger than what we’ve been taught.

the church preaches to the able-bodied, neurotypical masses. that’s all i can say. i have like maybe 1 or 2 hypotheses for that: 1: ableism is so rampant that it causes people to infantilize nd folks, which in turn builds the mindset of “they're so innocent and harmless, they can’t ever sin!, or 2: ableism is so rampant that they don’t consider disabled and nd folks to be actual human beings with the capacity to sin. xtians also have this weird obsession with healing and miracles.

at this point i’m rambling a bit so you can stop reading if you want. what i’m trying to say is, if the xtians think going to heaven is going to make me neurotypical, i’d rather go to hell. i can’t imagine what kind of person i’d be if that was taken away from me. but it’s okay because i’m going to hell anyways

so up until that point i had realized that i’ve started to outgrow my church, and that was kind of the tipping point. and now i know it’s not exactly outgrowing, but rather seeing through their bullshit.

#ex christian #exvangelical #religious trauma #religion tw #ableism tw #christian #church

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mauve-n-arcadia · 4 years

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Apart

By: Mauve

Trigger Warnings: Death, Attempted Suicide .

I was born with the ability to see my death. Deaths are beings that come into creation with our life. They take the form of what we imagine them as.

When I was a small child, I had no concept of death, so my death became an imaginary friend changing shape all the time. My parents would always comment on the fact that I was staring at nothing, playing with no one, and talking to myself. They figured I’d outgrow it.

I didn’t.

The first time I saw something die, I was able to see it’s death too. It was my class's pet hamster. It’s death took the form of a cat. The cat calmly let the hamster climb upon it’s back, and they walked off, disappearing into nothing. I was confused. I stared back at the lifeless body, I looked to where they disappeared.

“Where did they go?” I asked my death. My death shook its head.

I knew that that the cat I saw was the same as my friend who had been with me since birth, but the hamster had been able to touch their death. I had never been able to touch mine. Communicating with anything other than gestures always greatly taxed us both. I reached out to mine, but they recoiled.

Following this event, my teachers and my parents, they had to explain the concept of death to me, and of loss of life.

“But where does your death take you mummy?” I had asked.

“Why to heaven of course.” She answered. I looked to my death, now in the shape of a cat, they shrugged.

As I grew older, and more aware of the concept of death, I began to be able to see other peoples death. Some took the form of someone they use to know, others took the form of religious icons, others the person's worst fear. Some deaths tried to never catch their persons eyes, always fluttering around, trying to seem unassuming. Others sat on their persons shoulders, and some seemed to try and keep their distance. You could tell alot about a person by looking at their death.

My death and I walked side by side.

Sometimes my death would protect me.

Two paths in the woods, my death would block the way down one, and make me take the other.

A van pulled up next to me once when I was still an adolescent, I walked to the window. My Death took my hand, I felt dread fill me up from the stomach and tumble out of me into the surrounding air. They pulled me away. Run. They communicated wordlessly.

My death touched me. I grew fascinated, always reaching out to my death. They never took my hand again. Sometimes my death seemed annoyed that I was constantly trying to touch it, other times, it would seem lonely, and try to reach out as well. Sometimes, we would pass through each other, and other times, there was an invisible force between us. I read everything I could on the topic of death, scientific literature, philosophical musings, religious dogmas. I volunteered at a hospice as I got a little older.

“You’re so lucky, to be so young and alive,” The patients would say to me. “Your generation will outlive us all!”

Some hospice patients were terrified, others were at peace. But their deaths were always around in whatever form they took, concerned, and reaching out to try and comfort them.

It was always sad seeing a death touch a person that didn’t want to die. The person would be filled with fear, and the death would be filled with disappointment that they couldn’t comfort their person in their time of need. If only everyone could see their death like me!

When it was time for one of the patients, if given the opportunity, I’d run after them as they walked, hand in hand towards the unknown.

“Where are you going!” I’d yell towards them. And they’d just smile serenely and disappear.

It was a bit after these experiences, and after growing a bit older, that I decided I didn’t want to die. I’d ignore my death, I didn’t want their opinions, I didn’t want to play our old games. I wanted an answer. I wanted to know where they would take me.

“You know” I said once brattly “I won’t go with you when you try to take me”

My death looked down forlornly. They begin to hide from me soon after that. I think I hurt it’s feelings. But I was fine with it for a while. I was happy to go on and pretend like I had no death. I was angry with them, why wouldn’t they just tell me where they would take me!

But soon I began to miss my old friend. My behavior got more and more reckless. I knew my death was concerned about me and I could worry my death into coming out.

One night I was out swimming, the sky was dark, the water seemed like eternity around me. I decided to see how long I could hold my breath. I don’t know how deep I was, I stayed under as long as I could, past my lungs burning, I stubbornly stayed past the panic, and started drifting into calm. My death appeared directly in front of me, livid.

My death slapped me across the face.

My eyes shot open and drank in the sight of my death, adrenaline coursed through my body, and I desperately wanted to embrace my old friend, but I shot back up towards the surface of the water. My friends dragged me out, got me into an ambulance, afterwards my death stopped hiding, and stayed by my side as a companion.

And we were companions! I’d chat with my death, have them help pick out my outfits, and joke with them. It turns out my death actually gave great dating advice too!

My death and I walked side by side happily through time like that for a while, until I met someone else who could see deaths.

I’d never met another person I could relate to so closely, we became fast friends, but their death never seemed to be around.

“Where is your death?” I asked. “Are they hiding from you?”

My friend smiled and said yes, their death had been hiding for a while.

“You can probably get them to come out, you just have to embrace them!”

They raised an eyebrow and said they would try it. But I didn’t think they would. I don’t think they were born with the ability to see their death like I was, they must have come across it by some other means. Seeing their death suddenly must have been quite the shock I thought. No wonder their poor death hides from them.

But I didn’t know. My friend was thinking I needed to be saved from myself. I had deluded myself into thinking my death was my friend, when really my death was my enemy!

It took them some time but they took my death from me.

When I first noticed my death was gone, I wasn’t too concerned, but as the absence got longer, I grew more and more concerned. And eventually, heartbroken.

“Where is my death!” I cried to my friend. “They have abandoned me!”

Seeing my distress, my friend confessed, and tried to explain. “I took your death. It’s not your friend! I’m keeping them somewhere, far away. If our deaths can’t get to us, then we can’t die! You’re the only one like me! You can’t die”

I cried, I begged, I threatened. My friend would not release my death. I tried being reckless again, to coax my death back out. It did not work. I searched and searched and searched. I couldn’t coax it, I couldn’t find it, I couldn’t convince my friend to give it back. I felt empty without my death, who had been with me since birth, by my side. I’d glare enviously at people as they walked by, unknowingly complete with their deaths by their side.

I went on, and on, and on. I did get to do much more than the average person I’ll admit. But I kept going on, until I got sick.

I was so sick, past the point of the people I used to watch in the hospice, and I’d cry out for my death to come take me, come comfort me. But they never came. Eventually I did get better. But I never recovered fully.

I tried to kill myself a few times too. But I’d just end up puking my guts out, or laying bored in a pool of my own blood until I stitched back together.

I would meet up with my friend every now and then, we’d catch up on the last few decades, I’d ask for my death, they’d say no.

Me and my friend, we watched humanity rise and fall, wars won and lost. We witnessed a lot of deaths. Violent deaths are interesting, their death usually rushes to embrace them, as if to protect them from what befell them, and they fade quickly.

Empires grew and fell, people went to space, colonized planets. I went with them. To see something new.

It was a normal day when I felt it. I was out on a space walk. I felt something in my heart snap with sudden sensation, and I was filled with both a sense of dread and relief.

I could feel that my death had escaped.

I immediately went into my shuttle, and set a course towards earth.

Once I got to earth, I could feel their pull, bringing me exactly to where they were fighting their way back.

There wasn’t much left on earth any more, we met in the remnants of an old city, most of the buildings were piles of material on the ground.

When my death and I saw each other we rushed towards each other and embraced like old lovers. I could feel their touch on my skin but it didn’t fill me with dread. I was filled with happiness and calm. I smiled up at them and they smiled down at me.

I closed my eyes, and placed my forehead on theirs, smiled serenely, and we… disappeared.

#death tw #tw suicude #suicide #original fiction #original writing #death #short story #urban fantasy #flash fiction #a wee bit scifi

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

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Kick Ball Change (a Destiel fic inspired by 15x10 “The Heroes’ Journey”)

Dean has the Bunker to himself at a time after he and Sam regain their supernatural abilities. With nothing needing his attention, he decides taking time for himself wouldn't hurt. But the usual fare leaves him bored and tired.

So he tries something new. Something he wanted to try, but wasn't sure he would be good at. Dean starts off strong, but doing it on your own can only be so fun. Get you so far. Luckily a partner happens by and truly allows Dean to enjoy a part of himself he knew was there, but didn't want to share.

He leans forward, studying the laptop screen intently. Frowning, eyes flicking left and right while counting along with the instructor. His finger clicks on the trackpad and then pulls back. Restarts the video for the umpteenth time. When Dean feels confident, he pauses the video at the two-minute mark.

Distancing himself from the table, Dean’s stare dips down towards his feet. Watches them repeat the steps. Slowly, like if he were walking on a wintry lake where the ice thinly covered the surface. Imagines the clicks with each soft tap of his heel or a scratchy swoosh when he dragged his toes across the floor.

Through repetition, his skill improves. Instead of the jerky movements from which he began Dean moves with a touch of grace. Soon, he tears his gaze away and trusts that his feet will lead him through the routine without having to watch. Panting, beads of sweat dripping through his hairline, Dean dances the mini-routine at least ten more times. Then he stops and slumps over to the laptop again.

Two minutes. Out of thirty.

“Son of a…” he runs a tired hand through his hair, ignoring the aches in his joints and hits play.

There was only so much time he had anyway.

“I’m heading out.”

Dean glanced up from a magazine, Sam standing a few feet away with his duffel packed. “Where you going?”

“Jody’s,” he said, walking to the stairs, “she called about issues with a wolf pack and wanted some help. By the time her, Donna, and Claire make it there they’ve picked up and moved on.”

Nodding, he marked his page and stood. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be ready –“

“Actually,” Sam coughed, blushing, “I was planning on driving over there alone.”

Stunned, Dean allowed a beat to pass before asking. “Oh?” brow raised, “You sick of me already? Alaska to Kansas too long being stuck in a car with your brother.” It’s only been a day since they returned, but it’s all the difference. Dean and Sam felt more like themselves after their luck returned. Being average was an interesting experience, one Dean never wanted to go through again. He would go mad if it became his reality. “Because I’ll tell you,” he continued, “it wasn’t me stinking up the cabin with those Gas-n-Sip burrito farts.”

Sam’s lips pursed and then thinned. “No,” he said, “you were too busy puking into a plastic bag after eating Bess’s grilled cheeses… again.”

Dean shrugged, neck heating up at the memory. “What? They were good.”

“You were lactose intolerant!”

“I call bullshit on that,” he argued, “Cavities, I get. Skills getting rusty, sure. But me gushing chunks after so much as a cheese stick? No – that makes no sense. Chuck was just being a dick with that one… keeping me from cheese.” Dean huffed, crossing his arms, “At least that’s not the case anymore, right? Me and cheese are friends again.” Sam’s bitchiness intensified. “Anyway… why’re you leaving me behind?”

As if Dean stabbed a pin into his balloon, Sam’s irritation deflated into a shyness. His shoe scuffed against the floor. “Well… I wasn’t the first person Jody called.”

“Right, you mentioned Donna ��“

“Because, well… because Eileen is still en route.”

The clouds parted. Light streams through and brightened Dean’s face, his grin stretching wide until his cheeks hurt. “Oh,” he said, “that’s why –“

“Dean…”

“You don’t want me crashing your little date,” he chuckled, delighting in Sam’s scowl. “What? Afraid I’d embarrass you in front of her… like she didn’t see enough when she was haunting our home like Casper.”

“Dean –“

“You already kissed her Sam, and she’s still kicking,” Dean said, slapping the magazine across his knee. Aware of how close Sam was to having a meltdown, he pumped the brakes. “Go. Have fun with your girlfriend hunting weres,” he sighed, “I’ll watch the fort… alone… with nothing but my hand for company.”

Sam huffed, a smile threatening the dark corners of his lips. “You can always call Cas.”

“He’s busy,” Dean told him, mirth draining from his voice. “On his way back from Heaven he found a case in Southern California.” He wrung the magazine in his hands, wrinkling the pages. “You’ll probably be back before him.”

After exchanging quick goodbyes, Sam left. Seconds passed after the front door’s heavy slam, Dean wasting no time to sneak away towards the kitchen. Using his first night to revel in all the shameful acts Sam would cast a judgmental stare at. Like piling meats and cheeses – no vegetables – onto toasted bread. Paired with as many different fries he could find in the freezer and empty onto the baking tray. Enjoyed his meal alongside a very adult film, one Sam would make him watch hidden in his room. Where the grunts and moans were contained. They echoed in the War Room, mixed with Dean’s own laughter.

Except porn can only be so interesting.

He lost interest rather quickly without someone being there, around to possibly walk in. Catch him in the act and then admonish him. Loneliness softened the edges of thrilling danger. By the fifth movie, Dean tied his robe shut and waddled off towards the showers to clean up.

All throughout the shower, Dean wondered what he should do next. Pranking Sam felt too pointless, knowing his brother would return with a goofy smile and good mood that would be difficult to ruin. If he wanted any chance his energies were better saved coming up with over-invasive questions to pester him with.

Outside the washroom, Dean turned and wondered about the shooting range. The idea fit like an old shirt. Familiar, but ineffective. Dean outgrowing the need to blast bullet holes in his problems. Especially boredom.

He kept thinking while in the shower, lathering his body on autopilot. Not realizing he finished until he saw his reflection. Towel wrapped around his hair, eyes tinged red from where shampoo must have fallen in, and a piece of floss hanging from his mouth.

“I want you to promise me you’ll floss from now on,” Garth said, shoving the plastic cartridge into his hand.

Lips pursed, he tried handing it back. “If Alaska’s what you promised, I doubt I’ll need to worry about my teeth again.”

Garth fought, forcing his fingers around it with the supernatural strength he reminded Dean at every chance during this encounter. The pressure around his wrist sent sparks firing up his spine like fireworks. “It don’t matter,” he growled. “Luck is temporary. Good teeth are forever.”

His gums tingled with minty freshness, but it wasn’t too horrible. Better than the cavities, or the process it went to fill them.

“But that laughing gas…”

He propped himself up on the sink, remembering the insane choreography his mind dreamed up during that affected state. Inspired by some Ginger Rodgers-flick he must’ve caught late at night when he couldn’t sleep. And after flipping through channels, stumbling upon her spinning in Fred Astaire’s arms and marveling at the ease with which they both glided through the number made the late hours pass in a blink until Sam knocked on his door, inviting him for breakfast.

It looked supernatural, but Fred and Ginger weren’t blessed like Sam and Dean. Their talent came from hard work, and not a boost from God.

“But anyone can be a good dancer,” he mumbled, “I bet, with time, I could…”

Resolved, Dean tore the floss from his mouth and hurried to get changed. A simple hoodie and sweats, easy to move in. Hurried to his laptop left in the war room, frozen in ecstasy, and began the search.

The first few websites he tried were articles. They detailed what Dean needed to start and the different types of dancing he could try. A few looked rather impossible for a beginner like him, and others required two participants. An hour in, he found one written by a former tap dancer detailing the history of the style and their experience in the last twenty years. He sat, captivated, learning how it was more than just simple clickity-clacking. How tap mixed together a variety of cultural styles and grew in popularity. Transitioning from minstrel shows to vaudeville acts and jazz. Booming from the late Eighteen hundreds into its height of the twenties and thirties, slowly falling out of the spotlight after that.

“Each class I took I felt a little bit happier with myself,” the author wrote, “I didn’t really have much to be proud of… some days it was like I passed through the day. Existing, but doing nothing with my life. Watching myself dance in the mirror and complete a complicated routine and thinking ‘I did that’ it… it gave me the energy to make it into the next day.”

At the bottom of the article, a few links auto-populated to tap dancing videos. Dean clicked on the first and spiraled.

He’s hungry, skipping lunch and dinner to dance. It’s probably nighttime, except Dean won’t check his phone. All Dean knows is that there is a minute left of the video, his ankles hurt, and he has only a few more steps to go until putting it all together.

“Okay,” he says, dragging the button to the very start, “let’s give this a try.”

Dean waits for the music to play, nerves twisting together and strangling his heart. He ignores them in favor of focusing on the instructor counting him in. His foot slides to the side and lightly taps the floor. Gentle smack mixing with the jazzy piano and clack from the professional tap shoes. Repeats the process with the other foot.

And then he’s dancing.

It’s not the greatest, Dean stumbling a few times. But he powers through. Does as he read and keeps moving onto the next step.

Halfway through he finds the pain in the lower half of his body overpowered by the ache in his face from smiling too wide, for too long. Exhaustion fades as Dean allows the joy of dance to flood in. Stops thinking and blacks out, coming to when the video ends.

Silent save for the singular clapping from nearby.

Dean whirls around, startled. He trips over himself, snapping the laptop closed. Fire crawls up his shirt and tints his neck, Dean glad the hood hides most of it.

Castiel arches a brow at the display, hands paused on the downswing in a mock prayer. “That was wonderful Dean,” he says, “I didn’t know you could dance.”

Tongue heavy, he tries his best. “I don’t. I mean… not really. Not professionally and, usually, not at all. But I… I had the time, and I thought I could do it. Figured, while I was on my own, I’d see if I could do it.” Dean folds his arms over his chest, huffing a deep breath. Painfully aware of the sweat stains soaking his fists while they hide in his armpits. “Just started doing it a couple of minutes ago actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He hums, drifting closer. Castiel drags his fingers across the map until he reaches the laptop. Hand hovering over Dean’s, almost touching it. Radiating heat and electricity that leaves him jumpy and frozen to the ground.

“You’re really talented,” he says, “and you never did this before?” Dean shakes his head, too afraid his voice would break if he were to use it. “Amazing… do you think –“ Castiel chuckles, gaze darting to the side and away from Dean. “Do you think I could join you?”

“You… what?”

“I might not be any good,” he continues, “but you were enjoying yourself, and I could…”

His expression shifts, crinkles of delight smoothing around his eyes into a somber reflection. Dean frowns, “Hey. You could what?”

“I could…” He breathes deeply, “I could use the distraction. Things haven’t been going my way the past couple of days…”

“The hunt?”

Castiel draws into himself, Dean following until his fingers hit the edge of the laptop. “I wasn’t all that needed,” he says, “When I got there, it was in time to group up with another pair of hunters who already taken down the shifter in its nest. Barely spent an hour in town…”

“Well,” he shrugs, “at least the monster was taken care of.”

“Still,” Castiel wryly smirks, “I can’t help the selfish feeling of wanting to be the one to solve the case. To come back home with some sort of accomplishment under my belt.”

Dean understands where his angel’s mind is. Replays their last conversation, where Castiel told Dean that none of the angels left in Heaven had an inkling of where Chuck might have gone. If he hung around their plane of existence or moseyed on to greener pastures. How disappointed he felt. “Another failure –“

“Don’t say that,” he mumbled, turning away from Sam so the other man couldn’t hear him. Wouldn’t if he kept his head buried in his book. “You got the Leviathan blossom, remember?”

“And look how well that went.”

There wasn’t any other option. So, when he opens the laptop and clicks on the next video, he guides Castiel to where he stood when practicing. “Let me know when you want me to pause it,” he says, “and don’t be afraid to ask me to play it back if you need to. Oh,” he tugs on the trench coat’s lapels, “You might want to lighten your wardrobe. Probably be more difficult dancing with all this on.”

Castiel nods, slipping free from his armor. Allows Dean to hang both coat and suit jacket on a nearby chair, tossing his tie after unwrapping it. He finishes rolling up his sleeves when the first video begins. “Thank you, Dean.”

“It’s literally nothing Cas. Now pay attention, it’s… dammit, she already started. Hold on let me go back.”

Dean tries his best. But dancing becomes increasingly difficult with the addition to his class. Every so often Castiel’s elbow knocks into his and the entire routine falls apart. Lucky that he didn’t own tap shoes to start with, so mistakes went unnoticed. Castiel’s heavy brow furrowed while he pieces together the steps.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Castiel says, foot flapping on the floor like a dying fish. Laughing, hopping between left and right. “I like this.”

Dean giggles alongside him, dizzy from either the lack of food or air. His friend stealing all of it from his lungs. “Yeah. Dancing’s fun.”

“Why don’t we do this more often.”

“Well, uh…” Dean scratches his chin, “I mean, men aren’t… men don’t dance, all that much. At least we’re not supposed to.”

“Who said?”

“…Society?”

Castiel nods. He pauses the video, never breaking his stare with Dean. “I see… that’s why you were doing this when neither Sam nor I were here, then?” Dean shrugs his answer. “Society’s rules are stupid,” Castiel continues, smiling, “and you’re a lovely dancer. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

“I’m not,” he rushes to defend. Wincing when Castiel’s brow arches at him. “I wouldn’t be… if I knew I was good. I hadn’t done all that much dancing before now.”

“And after?”

“After what?”

“After today,” Castiel asks, “Will you continue dancing?”

His face burns hotter. “I don’t know,” Dean says. Pouts and hides his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “It’s fun, but at my age… all this is kind of a killer on the body. I might not be able to kick for about a month.”

He hums again. “Well,” Castiel turns to the video, “what you chose to do can be… intense. Are there any other styles of dance you’re interested in exploring?”

Dean didn’t think he would agree so readily. And after explaining how it would work, figured Castiel would respectfully decline. Instead he asked Dean what song would best fit the style. Hung close while Dean typed into the search bar, hip pressed tight to his shoulder. Devil nowhere in sight because the presence of his angel shone too bright.

“So,” he says, soft music playing in the background, “we kind of… leave our hands like this.” Dean places one of Castiel’s on his shoulder, the other floating for a long beat until, taking too long, Castiel twines their fingers together. “What –“

“I’ve seen some people do this,” Castiel says, “Is that not right?”

“No, no you’re right. It’s just…” Very intimate. A loaded gesture. Not an act he ever would have pictured escaping his dreams and becoming reality. People like Garth and Bess could enjoy it… Sam and Eileen if they worked through their issues… but him and Cas? “It’s fine,” he says, “really.”

“You’re sure –“

“Dammit Cas, shut up and sway.” Dean ends their conversation, coaxing the other man into a rhythm so he wouldn’t have to talk any longer. Calmed when he joins and relinquishes the fight. He dives headfirst into the gentle waves of guitar strings. A soothing country melody the soundtrack to their first dance.

Dean peeks at Castiel’s profile and tamps down the awed sigh exploding in his chest. Only a glimpse needed to see the whole picture. Fills in the blank canvas with an unviable future. Maybe Dean wears something fancier than the hoodie with holes in random places from countless moth bites. A sleek black tuxedo tailored to show every curve and angle. Or pure white, so radiant and shining he personifies Heaven. Shiny wingtips that would capture the reflection of the happiest day his life could produce.

All the fancy window dressing for him wouldn’t fit Castiel. He would wear his armor like always, Dean holding tight to the trench coat as they circled the floor. Dean stares at it where it rests now. Hides his smile in Castiel’s shoulder, giving nothing away.

“Dean?”

Humming, Dean squeezes and grips Castiel’s shirt tight in his fist. “Yeah?”

“I don’t think this is appropriate…” Wings clipped, Dean hurdles to Earth. His feet stumble over each other in his rush to stop, and suddenly his angel’s touch turns cloying. Before he can say anything, though, Castiel continues. “Aren’t we supposed to go fast when the music picks up?”

“What?”

“The song’s over,” Castiel says, lips quirking at the ends. Dean tunes into his surroundings to find the music changed to a mid-tempo rock song that, while not too speedy, definitely put their earlier moves out of place. He blushes, stepping away from Castiel. “Wait,” he says, closing in around Dean’s wrist. Keeping him close. “are we done dancing?”

Hope glitters in Castiel’s eyes, blinding Dean from escape. “No,” Dean tells him, “We can still dance.”

“How does one dance to a song like this?”

“…Watch.”

Dean spins on his heel, startling Castiel. Wastes no time in shedding the sludge of his overreaction, shaking it off with each wild bounce of his limbs. Hops from left to right, grinning like he was sixteen again. Slammed between punks in the middle of a crowded room while a band blasted his eardrums deaf.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asks, laughing.

Dean bounds close and snags Castiel’s hand, dragging him forward. “I’m dancing!”

“This is dancing?”

“Yeah!” He won’t release him until the other man joins him. Holding Castiel hostage, demanding a ransom of stupidity and silliness. His angel reluctantly allows his shoulders to shrug in time. From how horribly he schools his features, though, Dean knows not an ounce of disdain lives within. “Come on, Cas. You wanted to dance? It’s not all sweeping ballrooms or planned directions. Sometimes it’s frantic. It’s crazy. It’s the first thing that comes to mind!”

“The first thing that comes to mind?”

Dean reigns in his excitement at the deviousness peppering Castiel’s grin. Lessens his jumps to tiny hops. “What are you -?”

Castiel spins him off. Sends Dean flying with a strength that nearly has him kissing the floor. Instead he slides to a stop and spends a beat regaining his balance. Confident in his ability to stand straight, Dean whirls to face Castiel. The comment locked into the barrel of his mouth misfires and leaves his jaw hanging.

His angel mirrored him, slightly. Jumps tinged with caution, hesitation etched into the lines of his smile. Arms arcing to and from, fists raised high above his head until slamming down. “Like this?” he asks.

Nodding, Dean hisses a low whistle. “Beautiful.”

“...Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to watch me or are you going to dance?”

He chuckles, “What I do Cas… you can’t just call dancing.”

When listening to music, Dean always paid attention to when it began and ended. Learned how to tell when one song bled into another. Differentiate between the minutia, varying chords played or notes sung in the arrangement. Could identify a song in the first few seconds of air time.

However, with Castiel, Dean cannot believe one song can last into eternity. Loses himself in the moment and lets everything else fade into static. Nothing more important than seeing how wide Castiel’s lips can stretch until they rip in half. Dean goads his good humor with ridiculousness after ridiculousness. He shimmies hips and drags his fingers across his eyes, Castiel smirks. Kicking a chair, collapsing into it and pretending to drop a bucket of water over his body makes his angel chuckle. Laughter erupts when Dean tries to teach Castiel how to do the macarena.

They’ve devolved in their movements. Exhaustion cutting the wires above Dean’s elbows and wrists. His panting overpowers the music.

Dean shuffles backwards to sit on the edge of the war table. Castiel joins, bracketing him in on either side with his arms. Accidentally closing the laptop with a drunken slap from his hand. “Oops.”

“Cas,” Dean sighs, lightly shoving his chest, “serious party foul.”

“My bad,” he says, tilting his head in the familiar way that causes Dean’s hear to beat double-time. “Although… I doubt this party would have lasted any longer.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The fact you can barely keep your eyes open for less than a minute…” Castiel’s hand traces Dean’s arm, crawling up it and leaving fire in its wake. It settles on his cheek, thumb brushing against the stubble there. “Dean…”

He fights against the molasses slowly pouring down his face and covering his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Dean, I –“

Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.

Castiel slaps his face. He doesn’t, but the speed with which his hand tears itself away from Dean stings like a slap. Both turn and stare above at Sam, the taller man clapping from the balcony.

“Wow,” he says, stomping down the nearby staircase, “you two were good. I didn’t know either of you had the skills… but I guess that’s on me, isn’t it?”

“Sam,” Castiel says, pouting, “How long have you been…”

“Not long.” He shrugs off his duffle, dumping the bag at his feet. “I caught the grand finale… a nice welcome home. Although you didn’t have to. I could’ve enjoyed it at breakfast instead of three in the morning.”

“Three in the morning?” Dean asks, fumbling for his phone. Blinking on, the curved number mocks him. “That long…”

A throat clears from nearby. He looks from his phone to Castiel, his angel fiddling with his hands. “I didn’t realize,” Castiel says, gathering his jackets, “it’s late… I should probably let you two rest. Sam. Dean…” One meaningful gaze that leaves Dean feeling exposed and raw later, Castiel exits.

Something rocks into his side, knocking him to the left. Sam smirks, sitting too close to him on the table. Eyebrow cocked in brotherly mischief. Dean scowls, “Seriously?”

“What?”

“You’re a jerk, you know that.”

Sam laughs, “I think I was within my rights.”

“I could’ve been so much worse to you, y’know,” Dean says, “I almost cut holes in all your underwear.”

“Glad to hear you didn’t.” He claps Dean’s leg, pushing off the table and snatching his duffle. “Cas is right. We need our rest…” Sam walks as far as the doorjamb, stopping underneath to round on him. “By the way… remember what I was talking about? About Cas’s staring? That’s what I meant.”

Dean fumes in his wake. “Oh yeah? Well… at least he stares at me!” His brother’s obnoxious laughter was the worst music he heard that night. Too wired to follow the others to their respective bases, Dean instead opens his laptop again and hits play.

It’s not the same, but it’s a reminder. A possibility. Hope.

#Supernatural #Spn #Spn15 #15x10 #the Heroes' Journey #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Sam Winchester #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #spn fanfic

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chaoslordjoe · 4 years

Text

Iceberg Week Day 3-Swim Lessons: Cannonball!

Author's note: The original version of this prompt, I wasn't happy with at all. Hence the sudden repost of anyone who recalls how I originally wrote it. That being said, I hope you enjoy this prompt if you are just now stumbling across it.

[Weiss sat at the rooftop pool at SDC’s Vale headquarters. Her one-piece was, you guessed it, ice blue adorned with a pink ribbon around the chest and a see-through sarong. Through her sunglasses, she was anxious for Neptune to show up already. Today was going to be some swimming lessons for him. Something that Weiss had planned on for a while.

Ruby hung with them, casually swimming and splashing with Zwei as Weiss couldn’t help but think about how she was going to help with her boyfriend’s lessons. The thought made her sigh. Yeah, he agreed to it. But at what cost would it be? Obviously, Weiss didn’t do it to make him uncomfortable or put him on the spot. But it wasn’t going to be an easy task.]

Ruby: *sits at the edge of the pool, cuddling Zwei* Weiss? Weiss.

Weiss: *looks at Ruby* Yeah.

Ruby: How much longer is Neptune gonna take? He's been in the locker room for hours.

Weiss: His hydrophobia isn't an easy thing to overcome, Ruby. Jokes aside about what happened at Vytal, we can't rush him into simply outgrowing his fears in a snap. I'm afraid it's not as simple as just learning how to properly face a Grimm on foot.

Ruby: *pets Zwei* I know. But it's been going on for so long at this point that I dunno if his Team can really focus on some missions near the water.

Weiss: Right. Hence why he asked me to teach him. I'm the one who took him to the side about it, after all.

[Ruby sat Zwei down on the surface. The corgi immediately shook himself dry and listened in on the girls' conversation, bobbing his head to the side at whoever was speaking.]

Ruby: Wait a minute, wait a minute. So Sun never talked to him about it?

Weiss: Well, he planned to- -

Ruby: Neither did Scarlett?

Weiss: Actually, he was gonna- -

Ruby: Sage?!

Weiss: RUBY! Could you please let me speak, dolt?!

Ruby: *inches back in the water* Sorry!

Weiss: No-no, that's alright. I…Kinda worded that wrong. See, the boys had debated it with Neptune after their clash with Team NDGO. But then when they moved to Vacuo after the Fall, there really wasn’t much room for swim lessons apart from the oasis they'd stop by to rest up. And since they were so high up in Mistral's mountain ranges, there wasn’t much time to discuss that, either. Especially with how they only came for farewells with how we had to get to Argus.

Ruby: *inches up* Wow, so he trusted you to teach him?

Weiss: Yes. Neptune asked me since there really wasn’t much room for the boys to teach him due to their own duties at Shade at the time. I figured we'd fly out to the company office to make this easier, as sort of a comparison to the fear of heights versus the fear of water.

Ruby: *smiles* Aww. Well, I think it was really sweet what you're doing for your boyfriend.

Weiss: Yes, he- -What?! Oh my gods, no! We are not dating right now!

Ruby: *smug look* Then why did you sneak photos of him and his teammates in the locker room one time?

Weiss: Shut up, that was Coco who took the photos and left them on my desk!

Ruby: *cat smile* Uh-huhhhhh~!

Weiss: Argh! If I had one of those Pyrrha dolls, I would throw it at your head.

Ruby: *frowns* Geez. Rub it in, why don't you.

[Just as the girls were about to resume their banter, the doors to the poolhouse opened revealing Neptune in a red speedo and a life vest. He wore water wings for good measure as he nervously smiled at the girls.

The vest, predictably, failed to hide his lean figure. If anything, his perfectly toned ass was on display more with the speedo. Neptune wasn't a Herculean titan like Jaune, Sage, Yatsuhashi, or the like. But his twink-like figure was more than enough to catch Weiss' attention, which sold quickly.]

Weiss: Oh…There you are! I figured you needed a moment to acclimate to the pool. (He's hot! He's hot! I completely forgot about this until now and he's so incredibly hot! It's gotta be a war crime to look this good!)

Neptune: You, uh…You ready to start, Weiss? *embarrassed grin*

Weiss: Y-Yeah, of course. Come here, let me help you into the water.

[Weiss offered Neptune her hand as Klein came by with refreshments for the three of them. The Schnee clan's butler wore a Hawaiian pattern shirt and shorts as he brought Ruby a cherry soda.]

Klein: Thirsty, Miss Rose?

Ruby: *takes soda* Yep. Thanks, Klein.

Klein: *bows* My pleasure, ma'am. I take it you are also enthralled with Mister Vasilias' body?

[Ruby got out of the pool, towling herself off as she sat in a chair with her soda.]

Ruby: That's not really my thing. But how often has this happened with Weiss?

Klein: Well, many boys have come to the pool with her in the past. Not in Atlas, but here. Predictably, they were interested in Weiss' money rather than her personality.

Ruby: *sips soda* I guess it's a first with Neptune, then.

Klein: Hmm. Indeed.

Neptune: *walks to the edge of the pool with Weiss, holding her hand* This is fine, this is fine…

Weiss: *smiles* It’ll be fine, Neptune. Just focus on me. We'll get this done together. How deep can you usually go?

Neptune: Huh?

Weiss: How deep in water can you go?

Neptune: W-Well, I can dip my feet in the water. But going beyond my ankle is where I start to panic.

Weiss: Just don't let go of me. Keep holding my hand, and we'll start with standing in the shallow end.

Neptune: Alright…

[Weiss stepped into the pool first, feeling her hand tightened by Neptune's thick grasp. She winced a little, but dipped her thighs in, gesturing Neptune to follow.

The intellectual hesitated, then nodded by dipping his ankles after his girlfriend went into the drink. He gasped a little. He then noticed that Weiss began stroking into the pool. A surge of panic went through him, diving in after her.]

Neptune: Weiss, hang on! *dives forward*

Weiss: What, Neptune- -?! *gets pounced by Neptune* GAH!

[Ruby raised her sunglasses, noticing them both falling in from Neptune's jump.]

Ruby: GUYS! *Petal Bursts into the pool, diving in after them*

Klein: Good heavens!

[As Ruby dived in after them, Klein made a beeline for the lifeguard post and grabbed the inner tube ring. Just as Ruby pulled out Weiss, she let go of Neptune who floated up, gasping for air as Ruby held up her partner.]

Weiss: Neptune? Neptune, can you hear me?!

Neptune: *shakes head* Hah! W-Weiss?

Weiss: *swims over to Neptune, hugging him* Yeah, it's me. What the hell got into you there?

Neptune: Um… *bites lip*

Weiss: Neptune. Please tell me what’s going through your head.

Neptune: I'm- - *hugs Weiss* I'm scared of the water because I shocked my friends when I was a kid.

Weiss: *looks up* What?

Neptune: Basically, my mom was taking us out for a swim after my dad was hospitalized at the time. My friends and I, we- -We were having fun for a while, but then my friend Scylla and I were hanging out by the car. I thought I saw mom drowning, but it was actually one of Scylla's relatives. I ran in, and, my mind went blank.

Klein: *frowns* Oh dear.

Ruby: How did you get out?

Neptune: Okay, I can basically cast static electricity. I can charge it over time, but I mostly can just shock my way out of some problems. It's not really lethal against Humanoids. This shock back then, though…Whew! Just as I was gonna black out, I zapped myself awake, then the whole pool lit up along with the other kids. I survived, but I was pretty much scared of water after that.

Weiss: What happened to them?

Neptune: Gods, I'm not even sure. But the last I heard when the police finally finished questioning us was that…That my friends were also hospitalized and homeschooled for a while. *lets go of Weiss* I've never been so embarrassed about one of my fears. I'm sorry, Weiss. This might not be a good day for lessons.

[Zwei gave a sad whimper, with Klein's “Bashful” personality kicking in at this sight. But Weiss wasn’t having any of his excuses today, and gave Neptune another hug from behind. Her chest sat against his rocky back. And she pillowed her head against the back of his neck.]

Weiss: Neptune. You have nothing to be sorry about. That was then, this is now. Besides, you admitted you trusted me to help you with this, right? So I'm gonna help you because I love you, and wanna help you through your pain. Don't EVER be afraid to ask for my help.

Neptune: But- -Alright. You're right, Weiss. I gotta stop worrying with you around. *takes Weiss' legs into piggyback position* Let's uh…Let's try again tomorrow. Water's getting a little cold.

[Weiss hugged him tighter, nuzzling the back of his neck and planting several kisses while brushing the side of her lengthy hair against his shaved spots.]

Weiss: Is this better, sweetie?

Neptune: *blushes* Well, uh… *smiles* Yeah, it is. *steps out of the pool, shedding water wings still carrying* Thanks, Weiss. I knew you'd listen.

Weiss: Of course, Neptune. Ruby, why don't we shower up and get lunch?

Ruby: *smirks, getting out of pool* You just don't wanna see Neptune all wet and naked right now, do you?

Weiss: *blushes* N-No! Not until we're married…Okay, maybe a little.

Klein: *switches to Doc personality, chuckling* Never a dull moment. I shall go retrieve your towels at once.

Weiss: *gets off of Neptune's back* Thank you, Klein. Could you please give Zwei a bath as well?

Ruby: He likes baths, just be sure to lure him in with some toys I brought.

Zwei: Ruff-ruff!

Klein: Certainly, Miss Rose!

[The heroes dispersed to wash up for the afternoon, before enjoying lunch together. Weiss wasn’t going to let Neptune's aquaphobia bring him down so easily, because nothing could stop a Schnee from achieving her goal with their SO. Such was the nature of Neptune and Weiss' relationship.]

#rwby #rwby shipping #rwby weiss #weiss schnee #rwby neptune #neptune vasilias #iceberg week #ship week #rwby ship week #shipping prompt #shipping

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awkwardturtleaffairs16 · 5 years

Text

Tunnel

Prompts:

(1) @honey-bee-fangirl Nick is really really badly injured, really ill and weak and bedridden, Sabrina kissing Nick’s forehead, and Sabrina saying I love you; and

(2) @whcczes Prompt #24 “that was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

Her whole body was hurting. She might have been bleeding from a gash on her stomach, but she wasn’t sure. Her eyesight was getting blurry and the smoke was filling up her lungs rapidly. She needed to get them out of here.

She struggles to carry Nicholas, his arm slung on her shoulder, a dead weight on her side. She doesn’t stop trudging on the path. They have gotten so far away from the battle. The war between heaven and hell was waging on in the depths of the fiery pits of hell, but nothing really registered in her head other than the fact that Nicholas was so near now beside her, that she could feel his warmth seeping thru his blood-soaked clothes. She needed to get him out of here. Fast.

The ground shook and the walls were starting to cave in. There was so much dust and soot in the air. She was having a hard time breathing. The entrance was getting closer, but her consciousness was waning, closing in. If they don’t get out of there now, they were never leaving hell.

It seems like the light at the end of the tunnel was getting brighter and she could almost imagine tasting fresh air, she could almost imagine seeing Nicholas cradling her face, healthy, safe, and smiling, with an amused smile, laughing at her worry. Telling her it was going to be alright. ‘God Please, Satan, Lilith, Jesus Christ. Whoever is there. Please let it be alright’, she thinks.

She drags every inch of strength left in her bones and carries on. She doesn’t see the ceiling collapse and come down just right in front of them and she loses her balance. They both fall on the ground. She doesn’t notice her knees start bleeding. She doesn’t waste a minute and scrambles up to his side, she tries to keep her tears at bay, but she chokes.

“Nick. Nicholas. Nicholas! Wake up please! We need to get out of here. Wake up.”

She chokes on her tears, his eyes are closed, he doesn’t move a muscle. There was blood running down his head and she desperately tries to wipe it away but the blood flows thoroughly. He was deathly pale. She panics for a minute and tries to feel for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. She breathes a small sigh of relief.

She realizes there was no way out anymore. The exit was blocked by debris, most of which were bigger than her. There was no way she can get past that. The cave was getting darker now, she knows she is left with no choice.

She gently cradles his head to her chest. Presses a kiss on his forehead. Prays to the Gods that her powers would work. She closes her eyes and visualizes the pool of magic within her. The well was almost empty. There was nothing much to draw. She concentrates harder. The transportation spell was easy if she needed to transport herself. But it was trickier with an unconscious person. If she didn’t have enough magic left, the transportation spell could take hold of her, but not on Nicholas. Initially, she didn’t want to take the risk. But if they stay longer, the less likely they were to escape.

She focuses her mind and draws deep, she feels the murmuring of her power on her skin and with a hoarse voice, she shouts, “Lanuae. Magicae.”

She doesn’t remember to whom she prays for, Satan was clearly dead. They had no Gods. But she remembers praying hard. Her vision spins and the last thing she remembers is being engulfed by cool blinding light, Nicholas in her arms, her grip iron tight around him. She was not letting him go this time.

---

She wakes up feeling warm, bright sunlight streaming down the room. The walls that greeted her were yellow and cheery, and she could smell cinnamon. A sign of protection. A safe haven.

She closes her eyes again and remembers that she was having a dream. They were attending the ball at Baxter High, she was swaying to the music, head on Nicholas’ shoulders. Her eyes cast away to Harvey and Roz’s direction. She remembers smiling, closing her eyes with content, and leaning further into Nick.

She remembers thinking how terribly sad and poignant was it to say goodbye to a person you knew so well like the back of your hand? How can leaving a relationship that was a great imprint on your soul, be okay? The truth was, it wasn’t okay. The love she and Harvey shared was the most – innocent and young, that she will ever know. That time when they had it, it was perfect. It was hard to accept the other truth in life – people change. The things you feel before will not always be the same things you feel now. And that was okay.

Day by day, you learn that there are matters in life that you know you cannot give up. Other matters, you must know because your soul seeks it. There are relationships in life you will learn to outgrow, while some you realize you will grow old with. She loved Harvey. That never really changed. It was just a situation where they both learned that they had exceed each other.

But love was not something you learn to quantify. Love was just that. An unexplainable feeling that takes over your soul. A compulsion that makes you reach to another, maybe in search for a home. She gave a piece of her heart to Harvey. And now she knows, she was giving away a distinct piece of her heart to Nicholas too.

How do you explain an unfamiliar love that exceeds a love that is first and pure? How does she even begin?

She feels Nick disengage from the dance, feels him stare at her, a silent burning question in his eyes. She knows the question. She knows, he wonders constantly about the need to surpass Harvey. When will he leave his shadow?

She feels speechless in front of his unwavering stare. She didn’t know how to answer him then. For the first time, she felt afraid. How can she contain all the love overflowing from his soul?

She hears a crash downstairs and reluctantly she opens her eyes. Wait. Nicholas. She recalls him in her arms. The Mines. Escape. Transportation Spell.

She jolts out of her reverie and she feels a chill run down her spine. Where was she? Where was Nick? She stands hurriedly and ignores the pounding pain in her head and runs down the spiral staircase. “Nicholas! Nick!”, she shouts.

She reaches the end of the stairwell and sees a surprised Auntie Hilda balancing a tray full of dark porridge and mandrake juice.

“Sabrina! You’re awake! My dear, oh my goodness dear.” Auntie Hilda engulfs her in a tight hug. The bowl of porridge clatters unattended on the floor. They hug and cry, but she wastes no time and asks, “Auntie, I was – I was with Nicholas. I tried to teleport us both back – but, but, I, I don’t know what happened. He might be in the tunnel. How long have I been asleep? Where is Nicholas?”

Hilda smiles slowly and places her hand on Sabrina’s cheek, “Hush now baby girl, Nicholas is here. He’s safe. I was just taking this porridge to him.”

Immense relief courses through her. She didn’t know how, but she found herself on the floor. Strength sapped. Her knees weak. He was alive. He was here. He was here. The spell worked. She saved him. Dear God. She feels her tears pool from her eyes. She’s been crying a lot these days. She doesn’t normally stray away from feelings of sadness, but since Nicholas left, there were days when the sorrow was unbearable.

“Where is he, Auntie?”, she asks.

Hilda takes her to the corner room on the second floor. When she opens the door, Sabrina stays rooted on the spot for a moment, but then she takes the first step and rushes by his side. She sees Nicholas on the bed, his eyes closed, (she doesn’t remember the last time she’s seen those eyes open), his forehead was bandaged up, a cut from his left eye down marred his cheek. She could see bruises on his arms, his chest. She knows his right leg was broken. She saw how mangled it was the first time she found him.

She kneels beside him and picks up his hand, and cries.

She found Nicholas in the ninth circle of hell, injured, weak, and on the verge of imminent death. He was in the middle of the frozen lake. The 4th round, Judecca. He did not recognize her or anything for that matter. When she tried to talk to him, he would stare at her face blankly, eyes empty, no light. She remembers pulling him in her arms and promising to take him back home.

But where was home? She was sure Nicholas knew the answer to her question. She needed to hear him say it again. She needed Nicholas to wake up. She knows the answer now too. She needs to tell him that her home was him. And she was his home now. She needed to tell him so many things.

She stays beside him and waits.

----

He stirs and he knows he is somewhere safe. The sheets were warm, and a breeze was coming in. He knows he is safe because there was no breeze in hell. He struggles to open his eyes, his whole-body hurts, and he can’t feel his right leg. His throat was parched. His ears disoriented from the empty ringing. But he feels grateful. It’s been so long since he’s felt anything other than excruciating pain. Hell was no joke. The torture was beyond imagination. He’s never going back again.

He feels something heavy beside his arm and he tries to turn his head sideways. A soft sleeping face. White platinum tresses. Sabrina.

He struggles to keep his emotions in check, he feels his throat close up, his eyes water, a heavy sense of need flooding his chest. He thought he would never see her again. Good God.

He winces when he tries to lift his right hand to pull her in. His ribs were apparently also broken. But he doesn’t give up. She doesn’t stir. When he’s gathered her in his arms, he breathes a sigh of relief. He kissed the top of her head. He imagined this one too many times while he was in Hell. When he felt the burning pain of Satan, imprinting on his soul, he thought only of one thing. Sabrina.

Sabrina in his arms. Sabrina smiling, laughing. Sabrina running. Kissing.

He realizes that he is alive and safe now, yet he still thinks of the same thing.

He closes his eyes to sleep.

---

When he wakes up the second time, he finds her still there. Awake.

“It’s been a while, Spellman.”, he says. His voice was hoarse from lack of use.

Her face crumples up and she has a ridiculous smile on her face, tears falling on her cheeks. She tries to clear her throat and with snob, she says, “Nicholas Scratch, that was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

He takes her within his arms. And he laughs, “I love you, Sabrina.”

She takes a deep unhurried breath, decides and says, “I love you, Nick.”

#nicholas scratch #nick scratch #nick x sabrina #sabrina and nick #sabrina spellman #Sabrina fan fiction #the chilling tales of sabrina #nabrina #nickbrina #caos #caos2 #caos fanfiction #caos fandom #caos fic #gavin leatherwood #kiernan shipka #aldoriginal #I DONT KNOW I TRIED THIS PROMPT COZ IT SEEMED FUN BUT I MADE IT INTO A CRYFEST

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starspatter · 6 years

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WonderWolf because I have my fave ship song for them stuck in my head

opening credits: Midnight Moon - Oh Wonder“You with the sad smile, don’t lose your courage, courageDance in the high tide and don’t be worried, worriedYour soul’s in a wild fire, feel it beating, beating, b-beatingDreams on a gold wire, won’t you believe it, believe it?We’re all animals out in the darkGot a feeling that we’re all believing inNot waiting for daylight to startWe’re over the moon, over the midnight moon”meeting for the first time: All Night - Walk The Moon”Things are changing around me, but II feel the same insideI’m getting older, not getting wiserIt’s got me up all nightRunning in circles, hunting huntersHurry up and wait in lineI just want to meet somebodyAre you the one who will take me there? Are you the one who will treat me right?I’m not afraid of your bluest flameBeen burnt before, but I’m roaring inside ”

hey, i kinda like you: Shut Up and Dance - Walk the Moon”We were victims of the nightThe chemical, physical, kryptonite…She took my armI don’t know how it happenedWe took the floor and she said‘Shut up and dance with me’This woman is my destiny”i’m going to kiss you now: Something Just Like This - The Chainsmokers & Coldplay“I’ve been reading books of old The legends and the myths Achilles and his gold, Hercules and his gifts…And clearly I don’t see myself upon that listBut she said…‘I’m not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts. Some superhero, some fairytale bliss. Just something I can turn to. Somebody I can kiss.’”falling in love: Livewire - Oh Wonder”I’ve been depending on the overgrownToo many lovers that I’ll never knowCounting my losses as I let them goHeavy the water as I sink belowI’ve been pretending all my shots are blownCover my heart up never let it showOh won’t you be my livewire?Make me feel like I’m set on fireYour love will take me higher and higher”your place or mine: Shootout - This Love“Apartment 24, 1st floor It’s the third door on your rightI give a knock, she lets me in I head back as she kills all the lightsSo familiar, I can’t pretend these fights are the last I will see This world’s a battlefield It’s time to tear down and use our souls to believeWe live, we lie, we love, we die And then we, we do it all it again It’s a shootout war, for so much moreThan just a couple scars on our skin”naked in bed: Body Gold - Oh Wonder“Before you came ‘round my heart would never beat much fasterBefore you came 'round I was ready to slow down…Now my soul beats a sound loud enough to quiet the thunderA love with no doubt and now I’m never gonna slow downLet it go, paint my body goldTake our bodies higher and higher and higherWe can go until the morning glowWe can go higher and higher and higher”first fight: Story of Us - Taylor Swift“Oh, a simple complication, Miscommunications lead to fall-out. So many things that I wish you knew. So many walls up I can’t break through.Now I’m standing alone in a crowded room and we’re not speaking. And I’m dying to know is it killing you like it’s killing me, yeah? I don’t know what to say, since the twist of fate when it all broke down, And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now.

The battle’s in your hands now,But I would lay my armour downIf you said you’d rather love than fight.”maybe we should take a break: Drive - Oh Wonder”But I can’t help but drive away from all the mess you madeYou sent this hurricane now it won’t go awayAnd I promised I’d be there but you don’t make it easyDarling please believe me‘Cause loving you, loving you is too hardAll I do, all I do’s not enough…Loving you, loving you leaves me hurtAll I do, all I do is get burnt” i want you back: Sometime Around Midnight - The Airborne Toxic Event/Tiger Teeth - Walk the Moon“As you stand, under the bar lightsAnd the band plays some songAbout forgetting yourself for a whileAnd the piano’s this melancholy soundtrack to her smileAnd that white dress she’s wearingYou haven’t seen her for a while”…“If you only take one step closerI could reach the zipper on your dressWe’re leaning out over the waterAnd we’re holding our breathGive in, give in. I want you backOne heart, one too many to stomachLove bites so deep, and we got tiger teeth”will you marry me: Alive - Adelitas Way”And I feel alive when I’m with youEvery time is something newNever knew what love could feel likeUntil I walked away the first time…You’re the only reason I fightYou’re the best thing in my life”we’re getting older: Heart Hope - Oh Wonder”They’re building aeroplanes faster than the speed of light Yet it don’t bother me The endless cities multiplying out oceansize Yet it don’t bother meI know we’ve gotta outgrow and feel a little heart hope Cause there is something more than everything So feel the love and let it in”if you die i’ll go with you: I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie“If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfiedIlluminate the no’s on their vacancy signsIf there’s no one beside you when your soul embarksThen I’ll follow you into the darkYou and me have seen everything to see From Bangkok to Calgary And the soles of your shoes are all worn down The time for sleep is now“end credits: Second Chances - Gregory Alan Isakov“All of my heroes sit up straightThey stare at the ground, they radiate…I’m some sick hound, digging for bonesIf it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be aloneOh my heart was all black, but I saw something shineThought that part was yours, but it might just be mineI could share it with you, if you gave me the timeI’m all bloody knuckles, longing for homeIf it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone“

#cryptoriawebb #starspeaks #Wonder Woman #Diana Prince #Wolverine #X Men #crossover #WonderWolf #long post #I like to try and make stories with the lyrics ok #although now I'm imagining Logan was there at Lex's party and saw Diana with Bruce #;(#some of these songs I relate to TimSteph too #Oh Wonder is basically my main jam for this pair tho

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brycolb · 5 years

Text

Pork Chops

It had been a while since Bryce and Issy had a mommy-daughter date. They’d spent time together with the family, and they’d play together every night, but they hadn’t had a day just to themselves, leaving all the boys at home to fend for themselves. Issy was starting preschool that coming Monday, and it was the last time Bryce would have her at home whenever she wanted, to do whatever they wanted to do. Soon, Bryce would have one of her babies in preschool full time and one in the half-day program at the daycare. She wasn’t quite ready for that yet, so Bryce took her opportunity to take Isabella out for the day.

Isabella Kamalei Okalani was Bryce’s miracle baby. Bryce always looked at her as if she was a piece of heaven on earth, and she always called her Brooksville’s saving grace. If it weren’t for Issy, Bryce would easily be buried, six feet under along side Cece and Marina. But she wasn’t. She was alive, and she was so happy she was. Issy was the sweetest and sassiest four-year-old Bryce knew of, and she wouldn’t change a bit about her daughter. She wouldn’t change a moment of how or when Isabella came. Bryce loved Jack too, but in a different way.

Jack and Bryce had the true mother-child bond that you saw in movies and in Pampers commercials. Bryce had a strained version of that with Issy, but things happened in Isabella’s infancy that caused a link or two to just be missing. However, that didn’t discount how bonded they were, now. Issy was a total Daddy’s Girl, but when she was sick or had a bad dream, it was Bryce who Issy came to. Bryce was the one that kissed the booboos, held her while she cried, and fought for her to be accepted into the preschool she was registered in.

So, that Friday, Bryce packed a bag for the two of them and grabbed a few snacks from the kitchen. “Hey, Ry,” Bryce called, searching for the box of Clif bars, “Do you mind making dinner tonight? I’m thinking we could do pork chops.” Ryder questioned this, for good reason. When Bryce was pregnant with Jack, she couldn’t even say the word pork without gagging. “I don’t know, I’m really craving it,” and that was also new. She hadn’t nearly been as nauseous as she had been the last time she was pregnant.

Pregnant. She hadn’t said that word around the kids yet. She wanted to surprise Issy with the information. Issy loved babies. She would greet all of the babies at Nora’s with kisses and hugs and she carried a babydoll every where. When Jack was born, she didn’t want to let him go. She could have easily had a viral video on Facebook if Bryce was a Facebook mom. Of course, Bryce would tell Jack too, but he wasn’t even two, yet. He wouldn’t quite understand what it would mean for Mommy to be pregnant.

“Okay, we’re leaving,” Bryce said, throwing the bag over her shoulder. She crossed from the kitchen to the living room, kissing Ryder sweetly on his lips. She felt a rush of electricity jolt through her body, and she leaned in for one more. “Mm,” she hummed. “Let’s put the kids to be early tonight,” Bryce whispered, just centimeters from Ryder’s lips. She smiled and gave Jack a few kisses as he was playing on the floor with his trains. “Bye Jacky, I’ll be back soon, okay? Be good for Daddy and Uncle Joey.” And of course, he burst into a puddle of tears. Issy might’ve been a Daddy’s Girl, but Jack was a TOTAL Momma’s Boy.

“Shut that baby up,” Issy said, walking into the living room from the room she shared with Jack. That was another thing. Soon, there would be a third little Okalani baby running around, and they were quickly outgrowing the two-bedroom apartment that Bryce, Issy, and Caiden had moved into a few years back. But that was a conversation for another time.

Immediately, following Issy’s remark, both Bryce and Ryder retorted, “Hey, not cool.” Issy apologized, kissed Jack goodbye and gave her dad a big hug. Then she took Bryce’s hand and they walked all the way to the car that way.

Bryce had an entire day planned. First, they’d get their nails done. Then they would get lunch together, and then they would go spend some time on the beach and get ice cream and feed the pelicans. The nail salon Bryce liked to go to wasn’t too far from the apartment complex, so the two girls were there within minutes. It was a slow morning at the salon, but Bryce had made appointments for them anyways. They were just going to do their toes. It was Issy’s first nail appointment, so of course Bryce was taking a thousand photos of her. Issy picked orange as her color, and Bryce thought it was on-brand.

Issy was the kind of girl to wear a superhero cape with her princess dress or a crown with her Christmas pajamas in the middle of the summer. She was the perfect mix of girly and adventurous. Having a little brother really helped in that department. Bryce liked that her ballet-loving little girl also loved splashing in mud puddles and wanted her toe nails to be orange.

The women at the salon were sweet and gentle and did everything that Bryce asked for and told Issy exactly what they were going to do before they did it. There were moments where Bryce caught herself with tears in her eyes, wondering how her 5-pound, 19-inch long baby girl had gotten so big, so quick. It made her nostalgicy yet excited about the little bean in her belly. Bryce had only had one appointment with the doctor, to confirm that she’s pregnant and to give her a rough estimate of how far along she is. At the time, the doctor said just over nine weeks. It was almost eleven by that point, nearly out of the danger zone, so Bryce had been telling people. Her children were the last to find out. She had a follow up appointment coming soon, her first ultrasound appointment to see the baby, all she had so far was a quick blood test and a heart beat monitor.

Finally, the girls got to the beach, and that’s when Bryce needed to tell Issy. They were sitting on the blanket, enjoying some ice cream. Bryce had gotten a small bowl of vanilla for herself, not really enjoying dairy products too much at the time, and Issy got a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough that was going to completely ruin her dinner. Bryce cleared her throat and then said her daughter’s name.

“You never call me Isabella.” Her voice was raspy in the sea air.

“I know, but that’s your name,” Bryce said simply.

Issy giggled, “I know.”

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Bryce said, swirling her spoon in her cup, remembering Ryder wanted a video of her reaction.

“What it is?” Issy said. Sometimes she got her words mixed up or said them out of order, but Bryce thought it was too cute to correct, so she let it slide.

Quickly, Bryce propped up her phone and hit record. Issy started saying something about the seagulls, and Bryce took a deep breath in. She didn’t know why she was so nervous to tell her.

“Do you remember before we brought Jack home from the hospital how he was inside Mommy’s belly?” Bryce hated when parents referred to themselves in the third person when talking to their kids, but sometimes, it’s what you had to do to get through an uncomfortable situation. Not that this was necessarily uncomfortable. It was just... awkward. And exciting. And nerve wracking. And emotional. Bryce was feeling a lot of emotions.

“Ah-huh. You got real fat,” Issy said, and Bryce giggled. She technically wasn’t wrong, Bryce did get big, but she was big with baby, not big with fat.

After a bite of ice cream, Bryce said, “Well, guess what?”

And you could see the wheels turning in Issy’s head. She grinned and whispered, “What?”

“I have another baby in my belly,” she smiled.

Issy’s smile widened and she said, “Really?” Bryce nodded and Issy erupted into a thousand questions, “You’re going to get fat again, right? What’s the baby’s name? Why is there a baby in your belly? How did it get there? Is it a boy or a girl? Is it going to live with us? Can I name her?” And then she got scared, “I don’t want to share my bed with a baby!”

Bryce tried to answer her questions and calm her worries. But at the end of the conversation, Issy hugged Bryce and kissed her belly. “Mommy, I think the baby kissed me too.” After another hour and a half, Bryce carried a sandy, sleeping Issy all the way back to the car, got her buckled in, and drove home.

When they got home, Issy pushed the buttons on the elevator and swung the door open to the apartment and announced, “MOMMY’S GETTING FAT!” And Bryce laughed. Ryder greeted them both at the door, and Joey nearly spit out his drink from laughing. Bryce noticed that Casey and Stone and all of their kids were at the house too.

Ryder, with an arm around Bryce, said, “Don’t be mad, but they came over to celebrate the adoption, and so I decided to make spaghetti and meatballs instead of pork chops.”

Bryce scrunched her nose, “Good. Just thinking about pork makes me want to gag.”

#self para #para #sp #p

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