#I want to bloody LET myself create and yes even screw up...but I can’t

[greensword101]

This is for @barely-nok. I’m sorry it took so long to get some Obake content out for you to consume. I hope you find it tasty lol.

Obake never drank on principle. He needed to keep a clear head and heads were meant for thinking. And thinking meant he could create what he wanted to the limit or even beyond that.

But even sober, his brain would...fizzle if Kei ever so much as blinked at him prettily. Or pouted. Or cheerily threatened to sing “I’m Henry the Eighth , I Am” if he didn’t agree to take a break and - urgh! Just acknowledging the phrase made him feel filthy - spend some “quality time” with a coworker.

Personally speaking, Obake would have preferred the term “expendable” or “replaceable” or “unpaid intern that wasn’t getting extra credit or the merits of knowledge.” Oh, but he would pay anything to get DeciBull out of his sight! And hearing range.

Then again, hearing range would be preferable. Wild cards like Kei were acceptable. DeciBull - or Wil as Kei had casually greeted him by to the former’s chargain -  was more of a Jack; weaker than Obake, but still a threat nonetheless.

If Kei hadn’t taken the car and driven off to God knew where, he would have stormed out of the bar and left that arsehole behind. Maybe steal his glasses and see if the chubby man with a guitar gimmack could find his way back home without falling off the pier.

Wil had barely touched his first bottle and was glowering at his phone for the past half hour. This suited Obake swimmingly, if not for the fact that Kei would know that they hadn’t made any attempt at all and would be tormenting him with that song again! And she would enlist Noodle Burger Boy this time, he was certain. And possibly Trina, though he was certain she would be directed towards Wil instead.

Obake collected himself and recited the longest formulas in the Periodic Table before he rigidly glanced over to Wil.

“I’m surprised you aren’t taking advantage of the karaoke here.”

Wil yelped and fumbled with his phone - mumbling apologies to the bartender as he passed - before gaping at Obake.

“Interesting...” Obake murmured.

“What?” Wil asked bemused.

“You almost looked like an intelligent being for a moment.”

Wil scowled, “Funny.” 

Then a smile crept onto his face. Obake stiffened. He knew he could take the man, he was slimmer and certainly wasn’t sluggish, but bars were always tricky to maneuver around in. Inebriation, sympathizers, or anyone looking for an excuse to be aggressive would make Obake beating Wil up...troublesome.

“Something amusing to you?” Obake took a sip from his own glass to appear ignorant and casual.

“Just thinking how whipped you must be if Kei could make you spend time with me,” Wil leaned in conspiratorially, “Tell me, does she make you sleep on the couch when you misbehave?”

Obake sputtered and and gave Wil a hard stare. Wil stared back undaunted.

“Shut your mouth and have your bloody drink, why don’t you?” Obake snarled and took another, deeper sip from his glass. He was used to dealing with the aggressive and almost territorial behavior Wil demonstrated back at the base. He did not want to be sober to process that Wil was capable of having bloody cheek.

“How can I have my ‘bloody drink’ if my mouth’s shut?” Wil asked innocently.

“Test my patience and we’ll find out soon enough,” Obake growled under his breath. He could do it.  One stab between the ribs and he could slip out in the noise and confusion. He just didn’t want to put up with Kei pestering him when he got back and possibly annoying her with a potential murder.

Wil sniggered and had another swig of his beer. He went back to his phone, but he barely seemed to be reading what was on the screen.

That was...unexpected. But it was a better alternative to dealing with a feral monkey by himself. Obake found himself enjoying the Manhattan more than he expected and finished it off. He was beginning to fish the cherry out when Wil spoke up again.

“Was it good?”

Obake groaned and glowered at Wil, who was starting at his empty glass curiously. What didn’t that fool understand about having a little peace and quiet?

“I don’t typically drink myself,” Wil mumbled into his bottle and drank. He sputtered for a few moments and continued, “I just stick to a beer once in a while.”

“Thank Heaven for small miracles, then,” Obake narrowed his eyes and waved the bartender over, “Another one, if you would be so kind.”

“Me too,” Wil smiled at the bartender and held up his empty bottle. Amazingly, the bartender smiled back and came back moments later with their second drinks. Wil called after him as he walked off, “Thanks, Jim!”

“You frequent this place often?” Obake ventured and helped himself to his second Manhattan. Screw sobriety, it had been so long since he had anything that tasted so good touch his lips.

“I used to,” Wil admitted, “Just for a bite and maybe a bottle. That’s kind of how me and Kei met, actually.”

“A little nip before beddybye?” Obake cooed mockingly at him.

“Crime and I have something in common,” Wil smirked, “We rarely sleep.”

“Tragic,” Obake chuckled and raised his glass in mock salute, “To your insomnia, I suppose.”

Wil raised his beer in kind, “And to good company if I ever get any.”

Now, they both laughed for real. Obake noticed for the first time how pleasantly red Wil’s face had become. Was it the alcohol or the first genuine spark of life he was expressing? If it was the latter, that would mean Kei was behind it somehow.

Suddenly, the good feeling popped like a soap bubble and Obake hid his displeasure by finishing off his second Manhattan. Wil gawked at him.

“You should slow down, Kei is gonna freak if she has to pick us up from the ER because you got alcohol poisoning or something.”

“Kei this, Kei that, you haunt her like a lapdog!” Obake spat out. Damn that woman and her silly, childish notions of fun and damn that boulder she decided would make good company!

Wil blinked and leaned back a little. A moment later, he was glowering back with that familiar hostility, “At least I don’t treat her like a nuisance like you do! Do you have any idea how much she cares about you?!”

“Cares?” Obake snapped his fingers at Jim for another glass and leaned closer to Wil’s face. His nostrils flared and he could feel Wil tense inches away from him. “Why would she have to care about me? If that’s what you call pity, then I’ve no need for it! She can pretend all she wants that we’re all supposed to be some family, but in the end, that’s all it’s going to be. A stupid dream! Why would she care about making me ‘socialize’ with the others or spending ‘quality time’ with her silly boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?!”

Obake jabbed a finger into Wil’s chest, “Don’t play coy! I know you think I’m a prat to her! And I know you won’t believe that she can almost make me feel human! But you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, Prince Charming! She’s all yours, so you don’t have to worry about me -”

“I’m gay.”

“And I’m Bob, the pleasure’s all...what.” Obake had to take a moment to process Wil’s flat retort.

“Gay. I like guys. I love them. I love kissing them. And I’m already taken.”

Obake opened his mouth and closed it again. He noticed that his third Manhattan had arrived and wasted no time downing it. Wil didn’t repeat how it wasn’t safe to do this time, and he was thankful for that. 

Suddenly, he felt someone standing right behind him and stilled.

“Is he giving you problems, Wil?”

“No worries, Eugene,” Wil smiled at the person behind him, “Just clearing up a misunderstanding over here.”

Obake felt a little dizzy and pinched his nose, “Let me understand this correctly. You have never had feelings for Kei?”

“Platonically, yes. Romantically or otherwise? No.”

“And this whole time, yo - you’ve...” Why couldn’t he find the right words? “You’ve...acted harshly because...?”

“Because she’s one of my best friends and I don’t want her to get hurt,” Wil said firmly. He pointed at Obake with a fiercely protective look, “I can’t help who she wants to connect with, but I won’t stand by and let her get hurt. She’s gone through too much to deserve that.”

“Alright, I’m just going to butt in for a moment here,” Eugene moved from behind Obake and stood to Wil’s left, wrapping an arm across him protectively. He was pleasant to the eyes; tall, broad, dark brown hair and a scruffy goatee. He looked at Wil, bemused, “You weren’t here scooping for another cutie, babe?”

“Wh...why...why would he...?” Obake’s tongue felt like lead. Dear Lord, he could barely speak, he was so embarrassed.

“Because this is a gay bar?” Eugene supplemented as if it weren’t obvious. Obake blinked. Come to think of it, it was rather odd no one had come to bother them when they came in. Did...did that mean...?

Somewhere in San Fransokyo, Kei was laughing herself silly. Obake was certain of it. 

“Everything alright over here?” Another voice, deeper than Eugene’s mischievous and light tone asked.

“Hey ‘Nan! This is an acquaintance of mine,” Wil helped himself to his beer, “and apparently he thought I was stealing his girlfriend until a few moments ago. Bob, this is Kanan. My other boyfriend.”

“Other...” Obake’s head was swimming. This was too much to process...

“Yeah,” Wil said shyly, “We’re...we’re kind of a poly sort of thing.”

As if to prove his point, Eugene promptly gave Wil a deep kiss on the lips that was eagerly returned. Kanan came into view and Obake noticed how dark skinned he was and the ponytail before he decided he was too sober to handle this all right now.

He made to stand and tripped over his stool. And a moment later, his Manhattans returned and splashed all over the floor.

In hindsight, he should have checked how much alcohol was in each glass...

It was about a half hour later when Kei found all four of them outside the bar with Obake being supported by an irksome Wil and amused Eugene. Kanan looked torn between disapproval and laughter.

“Was it fun?” Kei asked hesitantly. Obake took one look at her and sighed. It was his own fault for drinking too much.

“It was something,” Wil supplemented as he helped buckle Obake into the backseat, “And educational, apparently, so that’s a plus.”

“We were there at the tail-end,” Eugene added helpfully, “It was kind of entertaining.”

“You sure you can take care of this?” Kanan asked Wil.

Wil looked at Obake and sighed, “We’ll be alright. Thanks, anyways.”

“See you at the next heist meet, babe!” Eugene blew a kiss.

“Tell Raps and Hera I said hi!” Wil called back as they drove off.

“And here I thought I’d be picking you up at the police station for a bar brawl,” Kei half joked.

“Stay with me, Bob!” Wil shook Obake gently, “Don’t go to sleep. First rule in treating alcohol poisoning.”

“Piss off...” Obake slurred.

Wil sighed and let his head sink against the headrest for a few moments. Why didn’t he just become an accountant like his parents wanted?

“Wil...” Obake said sluggishly, “In..in the...event...I survive this with my memory intact. Would you...do it again?”

Wil blinked in surprise and chuckled weakly, “Only if you watch what you drink next time, lightweight.”

“Momma’s boy.”

“Evil Brit.”

“Four Eyes.”

“Nnnnnnnnnnneeeee~rrrrrrrrrds!” Kei cackled as her passengers bickered with each other without any former hostility from before.

#big hero 6 #bh6 #Big Hero Six the series #obake #kei tanaka #dj parasite #wil welsh #decibull #Eugene Fitzherbert #kanan jarrus #oc #self insert #lbgt #gay #drinking #enemies to besties

[holycatsandrabbits]

Love’s Endless Light: A Good Omens serial romance

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Chapter 5: Shadows Fall

1143, Florentine Republic

Aziraphale stared at Crowley, his mouth falling open with surprise. “Excuse me?”

Crowley fidgeted and frowned. “I said we have to fight. Hell wants me to confront you about the whole Constantinople thing—”

Aziraphale gave an affronted gasp. “You told them Constantinople was my fault?”

“Well, I had to put something in my report, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but Crowley, I wasn’t even there!” Aziraphale’s voice dropped to a whisper. “The Arrangement—”

“Well, I’m not going to bloody tell them about that, am I? It’s not like I can say, Hey, forces of Hell, sorry the temptation went badly, but the miracle I performed for my angelic best friend went fine, so really, I’m not as bad a screw-up as it looks.”

Aziraphale blinked at Crowley, fighting down an unhelpful blush. Best friend was an awfully lovely phrase, especially coming from someone like Crowley, who was altogether lovely himself. They were standing in a clearing amid a grove of trees, and the leaves cast dappled shadows over Crowley’s beautiful scarlet hair. He was dressed in black, as usual, with a dagger at his hip, looking rakish and as inconveniently handsome as ever.

“Wait,” Aziraphale said. “So now we’re supposed to fight?”

“Yeah. Like physically.” Crowley put on a rather tempting smile, but it didn’t have his usual finesse. “Look, angel, it won’t be so bad. You can give me a cut on my arm—”

“Out of the question!” Aziraphale exclaimed.

Crowley looked exasperated. “Come on, you’re an angel, I’m a demon, it’s not that complicated. We have a nice little skirmish, I’ll tell Hell we nearly discorporated each other, and they’ll be satisfied. I mean, it might actually work in our favor, making it clear to our sides that we don’t get along, that we’d never dream of doing each other’s assignments—”

“I can’t,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley sighed, looking at Aziraphale with concern. “It’s no big deal. Not like I asked you for holy water or something.”

Aziraphale felt faint. “Crowley, I’m a guard. I wasn’t made to be able to— to hurt people.”

“You fought in the War in Heaven,” Crowley said slowly, as if Aziraphale might not remember, as if Aziraphale could stop thinking about the War for even one day. When Aziraphale did not answer, Crowley’s tone gentled. “Okay, angel. I’m sorry. I tell you what, I can wound myself—”

Aziraphale had caught Crowley by the wrist before he’d even consciously realized that Crowley had grasped his dagger. Crowley looked shocked, but Aziraphale did not let go. “Drop it,” Aziraphale instructed, and Crowley opened his hand to let the dagger fall.

“It’s, um,” Crowley said in a strangled voice, “it’s just as well we don’t fight, I guess. Since you’d obviously win.”

Aziraphale should have let go of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Crowley’s skin beneath his fingers was softer than the smoothest parchment, and Aziraphale found himself helplessly wondering what Crowley’s wrist would feel like beneath his lips if he dared inscribe a message there with a kiss. “Tell them I lost,” Aziraphale breathed. “I’ll wear a wound, and—”

A flash of fire and a clap of thunder suddenly shook the clearing, and two demons pushed up through the ground. “Just in time!” one of them exclaimed, seeing Crowley disarmed, and before Aziraphale could say or do anything, they rushed at him.

Aziraphale was also wearing a dagger, but he didn’t reach for it. Instead, he backed up, released his wings, and summoned his angelic glow. Though the demons held swords, they halted their advance, looking at him nervously. Aziraphale suddenly felt like a cat making himself look big in the face of a threat, and it did not help that when he glanced at Crowley, he could see the demon being delighted by exactly that thought.

Crowley retrieved his dagger and held it in what was probably supposed to be a menacing manner, and spoke in what was probably supposed to be a casual tone. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We came to help you!” one of the demons called back, not taking his eyes off of Aziraphale. He appeared to be some sort of bumble bee hybrid with a fuzzy body. “Hell wants this angel punished for what happened in Constantinople.”

Crowley made a growling noise. “I don’t need help.”

The other demon grinned. “Is that why he disarmed you?” This demon was rather monstrous, short and muscular, with a long worm-like tail that lashed about on the grass. He looked at Aziraphale with pure hate.

Aziraphale didn’t pray, not about something like this. But he did make a very fervent wish.

The demons lunged at him, and Aziraphale brought up his dagger, blocking their swords. The bumble bee one was a good fighter, watching carefully, trying to learn Aziraphale’s timing. The beastly one appeared to be more show than skill, doing a lot of useless lunging. Behind them, Crowley looked pale and worried. He held his dagger up, but hadn’t made a move to join the fight, which was wise, because of course, he’d surely enter it on Aziraphale’s side.

When the bumble bee got in a good thrust that cut through Aziraphale’s shirt, Aziraphale could hold out no longer. He let the dagger in his hand burst into holy flame. The bee demon was surprised enough that Aziraphale disarmed him and sent him sprawling.

The beast demon, predictably, rushed Aziraphale, undaunted by the flaming dagger. Aziraphale twisted out of his way and stomped on a faint discolored spot on his tail as he went past. The demon gave a cry of anguish and fell to the ground, curled up in pain. He looked up at Aziraphale with confusion and outrage in his eyes. “How did you know where to kick—”

It was at that point that Aziraphale found that his desperate wishing had not helped anything. The hate in the demon’s eyes faded into surprised recognition. “You,” he said quietly.

“Go,” Aziraphale instructed, with enough angelic might that the ground shook. The two demons scrambled up and fled into the forest.

Aziraphale let the flaming dagger flare out. He could not bring himself to look at Crowley, but he noticed him approaching gingerly.

“Are you okay?” Crowley asked.

“Of course.”

It was an obvious lie, and Aziraphale regretted it immediately, as he realized Crowley was going to try to solve the situation with humor.

“Gosh, angel, good thing we didn’t run into each other in the War in Heaven. I’d have been no match for you. You must have really made an impression on the one with the tail if he remembers you after all this time. Well, looks like you made an actual impression on his tail. Was it with your flaming sword?”

“Crowley, you don’t understand about the War,” Aziraphale whispered.

“It’s no shame to have fought,” Crowley said reassuringly. “That was your job.”

“My job is to guard.”

“But you were created a fighter, Aziraphale, obviously.”

Aziraphale still hadn’t looked at him, and he couldn’t now, because his eyes were wet. He turned the dagger around and held it out to Crowley, handle-first. “Say you disarmed me. Hell won’t punish you then.”

“Angel,” Crowley protested. He did not take the dagger, so Aziraphale dropped it on the ground and snapped his fingers, miracling himself somewhere far away.

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Read on Ao3

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and Tumblr.

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous Good Omens serial: Mr. Fell’s Bookshop

My Carrd

*********

Image text: Love’s Endless Light by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits) Chapter 5

As Aziraphale and Crowley slowly fall in love over the millennia, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale is keeping a very dangerous secret.

#Dannye writes #good omens #Love's Endless Light #good omens fan fiction

[holy-hyuck]

Hocus Pocus, Please Focus!

Trying to make a sleeping potion for your parents so you and your best friend can sneak out to a senior party is only ever good in theory; especially since Lee Felix really sucks at being a wizard.

Pairing: Wizard!Lee Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Comedy, Platonic relationship

Warnings: A dead rat?

happy halloween y’all!!!

“Is that a dead rat?” Felix questions just as you enter his parents’ office. He picks up the rodent by its tail, inspecting the bloody ball of fur, and you nearly gag as he dangles it in front of your face.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s that bloody book of yours that called for it,” you tell him as he puts it back in the box you brought it to him in. “Why do we need it anyway?”

The freckled boy wipes his hands on a rag. “Because-” he picks up the small book, bound in scarlet-red leather, “-it’s in the recipe for a sleeping potion. For our parents. Well, more specifically mine, but you get the point.”

He drops the book back on the table and returns to mixing the liquid inside a small, store-bought cauldron. He said a pot would do but Felix’s just extra like that.

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know...asking them to let us go to this Halloween party?”

Felix shrieks in laughter as an answer, causing you to roll your eyes. “Yeah, and then I’ll ask them for a million dollars.”

“Don’t be silly.” You plop down on a chair. “They’re more likely to give you the money.”

Your eyes lock and you smile at each other. You roll on the office chair towards the table, grabbing the leather book and opening it. A faint smell of roses hits your nostrils, and you trace the pressed flowers with the pads of your fingers. They’re imprinted onto the pages and the covers, and you feel delighted every time Felix lets you even touch that book. He doesn’t trust you any more than he trusts himself, and he’s a shit wizard, so that’s saying enough.

Hearing a plop, you look up to the grimace on Felix’s face.

“The rat?”

“The rat indeed.” He takes the book out of your hands despite the frown it causes on your face. “Eighteen drops of coffee, locust twigs and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydrochloric acid, and a dead rat.” He sighs. “Well, if they don’t fall asleep after this, they’ll probably drop dead.”

“And we’ll get to go to Brooke’s party! Yay!” you exclaim, urging your best friend to finish the sleeping potion. Only two more hours until the party starts, and you still needed to iron your outfit.

You watch Felix chant, eyes flicking back and forth between the bubbling liquid and the book in his trembling hand. A large bubble pops, creating a vile sound and smell, and despite Felix’s chanting, the bubbling stops.

“Great, it’ll fart them to death at this point.” You turn and grab a newspaper, sending it flying at your friend’s hand. You miss, and it falls into the cauldron.

“Look what you’ve done,” Felix cries and fishes it out but there’s only half of the paper there; the ridges are burnt off, black liquid dripping off of them. “On the contrary...”

“Hocus pocus, Felix, focus!”

Felix groans at your words as you shoot him a stupid grin, ushering him to continue. As much fun as you're having - and, let's be honest, it's not every day you get to witness Felix's failed attempts at magic - the clock is ticking, and the last time your friend's parents found him doing magic without supervision, his voice sounded like Mickey Mouse for a week straight. Yes, you do have evidence. And yes, you are planning on using it as blackmail.

"Okay, done," Felix alerts you after about five more minutes, closing the book and setting it down, then adding, "I think."

You sigh. "So much thinking from you today, Felix, I'm proud."

He smacks you on the head with the half-burnt newspaper as both of you gather around the table, inspecting the liquid swimming inside the cauldron. Felix takes a long wooden spoon - the one you used last night to stir mac and cheese - and moves the liquid around. It comes out thick in consistency, like syrup, except it's dark green and when you look at it in the artificial light, you see specks of glitter.

The boy brings it up to his lips and you look at him, incredulous.

"What if it works and you fall asleep?"

“What do you mean 'what if'? You really have that little faith in me?" The look you give Felix answers his question. "Besides, they need a bigger dose for it to work on them, don't worry."

He offers you some and you reluctantly lick some liquid off the spoon. It tastes tangy, like when you add too much salt to your tomato salad and the taste is so overwhelming it leaves you swimming and drowning in sodium. Well, at least it doesn't taste like a dead rat...not that you know what that tastes like.

"Okay, you get this ready and I will get myself ready. Expect me here in an hour. Don't screw things up." And with your words of encouragement, you leave Felix to do his thing.

The good thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that you can check yourself out whilst waiting for the boy to haul his ass downstairs, admiring the black-and-gold short robe reaching your mid-thighs, with a giant hood and some old, lace-up boots with the crispy remains of mud still atop.

The bad thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that when you lean forward to check you have nothing between your teeth and start using your fingers as a toothpick when you notice doughnut remains wedged between the two top incisors, is the exact time Felix decides to open the door to his house, leaving you looking like a freak of nature by choice.

“Gross,” he comments but locks the doors behind him promptly and changes the subject. “They’re out cold. These potions work for up to six hours but-”

“-with your magic?” you interrupt.

“-I wouldn’t count on it,” he finishes up, giving you a death glare.

Just before you enter your car, you clock the blue, black, and white tunic over the thinnest leggings you’ve ever seen draped over Felix’s body and you shiver at the thinness of the material. Isn’t he cold?

“Is that your actual hat?” you question after you start your car and make your way to Brooke’s summer house, and Felix adjusts the pointy hat on his head.

“Yep, and look at this-”

“I can’t look, I’m in a- Is that your ring? Your actual magic ring? Lix, your parents are gonna cut off your fingers and feed them to squirrels if they find out you’ve taken it outside without their supervision. I mean, you’ve already been doing magic without them knowing, and used a sleeping potion on them, and- and-”

You hear Felix snort.

“Relax. They’re sleeping, and we get to sneak out. That’s all that matters. Besides, I got you something too.”

Finally parking your car in front of a medium-sized house, you get out and rush to your friend’s side. “What’s that?”

“It’s a magic mirror. It’s connected to every mirror in my house, so we’ll see if my parents wake up, so then we can change our names and flee the country. I want you to keep hold of it.” He pushes the small mirror into your hand and you pocket it inside the rather humongous pockets of your robe.

You thought it’d be ironic if you dressed up as a witch because...well...you know. Felix is a wizard? No? But then Felix decided to do the same and you already know you’re never gonna hear the end of the comments from your classmates.

Well, here comes what you’ve been waiting for.

About an hour into the party you’re already tipsy but you expected nothing less going into this. Felix is nowhere to be found, although to be fair, it’s not like you bothered looking for him. He’s probably with Seungmin, Jisung and Hyunjin - his other friends from a book club he promises isn’t as nerdy as it sounds - and up to no good, as always. The last time you left them unsupervised because you couldn’t stand being around Jisung for any longer than necessary, Seungmin’s hair was neon green, and Hyunjin had a bald patch at the back of his head. It was fun being a witness of their stupidity instead of a victim for once.

You walk outside to enjoy the fresh air, into a grand garden decorated with white fairy lights. It’s so beautiful you actually let out a gasp as you admire the work put into it until the sight of the pool makes you sober up on the spot. The pool is small and at first, you think the water’s just unfiltered, giving it its green hue.

But then you feel it; the sticky substance beneath your feet as it makes the most obnoxious sound you’ve ever heard when you lift up your foot. The dark goo travels across the tiles and the grass only to end up in the pool, staining the water green.

It looks...stupidly like what you and your best friend have given your parents - and at that realisation, your eyes widen and you scurry back inside to find Felix.

“Lix, there you are,” you say after good ten minutes of searching, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He turns to you with the smuggest grin plastered on his face as he hands you a drink.

“I’ve heard this new energy drink kicks ass. Try it.” He ushers you to take a sip and you do, alongside him. It does taste nice, almost like pink lemonade, and you find yourself drinking the whole cup before you know it.

“Where did you get it from?”

“Oh, someone gave it to me.” You slap his arms, causing him to yelp. “What on earth was that for?!”

“Felix! What idiot accepts drinks from a stranger?”

“The one that wants to have-” he stops himself, getting dangerously close to your face, so much you can clearly see his freckles, “-fun. Ever heard of that?”

You push him away with a shove to his stomach, eliciting a laugh. “Whenever you have fun, someone ends up paying the price, Felix.”

You look over to him and brush away some orange hairs from his cheek, only to find them stuck to his skin. You shrug it off.

“Oh, I remember now!”

Without another word, you drag him into the garden, and he spills a bit of his drink in the process.

“What am I looking at exactly?” he questions when you finally stop, motioning to the pool, which brandishes clear water much to your surprise.

"What the..."

You both jump up at the loud thud behind you and whip around to see a body dumped on the ground. You feel like throwing up, clutching Felix's hand, which is...hairy?

Looking down, you notice more of those ginger hairs growing on the back of his hand and you jerk your own hand away.

"How does that feel?"

You hear a female voice alongside a deep laugh and slow clapping. From the shadows of the trees surrounding the garden, Felix's parents emerge, and suddenly you feel yourself sinking into the ground, knowing it won't be long before you join your friend on the floor behind you.

"Mum!" Felix yelps. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"Well you see, your dad and I were planning to have a movie night but it seems like we took a little nap. Must be something to do with that wretched slime you slipped in our drinks."

"There was a bit of a branch in there, have you noticed, love?" his father interjects, pulling out a familiar book from behind his back. "Eighteen drops of coffee, locust wings and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydro-"

"W-wings?" Felix stutters out and you observe him for a second before the realisation seeps in.

"Fucking wings," you mutter under your breath so his parents don't hear.

"Yes, I do believe the spell calls for locust wings, but you always were bad at grammar son." His dad smiles. "So anyway, after we woke up, we saw the house number through that magic mirror I believe you gave your friend."

"Um, (y/n)." Felix traces his finger down your cheek with wide eyes, and you do the same, the feeling of roughness underneath your fingertips.

Taking out your phone, you look at the dark reflection on the screen and gasp in horror. The green and yellow scales reach all the way up to your eye, which begins turning a fiery orange colour. You blink your slit pupils and drop your phone in shock.

"I hope you enjoyed your drinks tonight, by the way. We added something special. You'll find out in the next hour anyway. Or, well, sort of."

The adults laugh, and you look to Felix's arm, now covered with thick orange fur.

"That should serve both of you a reminder not to perform magic unsupervised. Because you, Lee Felix, aren't very good at it." His mother comes up to him and pats his hairy cheek. "At least you'll make a cute weasel."

#skzwritersclub #stray kids scenarios #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #stray kids imagines #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #stray kids comedy #felix comedy #lee felix comedy #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #lee felix x reader

[noladyme]

The Frog Princess. Chapter 6

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria.  Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

6

The rooster that woke me up, was a real one. Sunlight was slipping in through the shutters; and lighting up the face of the man lying naked next to me – his arm draped over my chest.

We looked at each other for a long time without a word. I knew the situation should be awkward – our circumstance being as it was – but in that moment, it wasn’t.

His amber eyes were warm; nothing like the cold, heartless eyes I’d seen earlier. I lost myself in his gaze; and smiled. I ran a finger down the side of his face; from the soft skin on his temple, over the stubble on his cheek, and he closed his eyes in pleasure. He pulled me towards him gingerly, so that we were laid facing each other; and put his forehead to mine, exhaling with a satisfied expression. His arm was around me, and his fingers played with the hair at the back of my neck.

The fire having gone out; the room was cold; and Geralt pulled the covers over me, to shield me from it. I sighed contentedly, and he smiled at me; pulling me in for a soft kiss. I let my fingers slide over his chest, running them through the hair there; before slipping my arm around his warm body. Taking a hold of my thigh; he slowly slid my leg around his hip – still softly kissing my lips; occasionally letting the tip of his tongue met mine.

Our eyes met in mutual consent; and he gingerly slid inside me again – taking care not to hurt me; as I was still sore from our lovemaking the night before – we hadn’t stopped at one time, and I could see a few bruises on my arms from where he had held me pinned down on the mattress. I gasped as he began to move. “Do you want me to stop?”, he whispered. I shook my head. “Never”. He smiled softly.

His movements weren’t so much thrusts, as slow sways of his hips; as he held me against him. His member felt velvety as he moved in and out of me; and I stroked his back lazily – closing my eyes in relaxed pleasure.

We were in a state of pure bliss in that moment. Nothing could touch us inside this little bubble we had created.

He continued to move; pulling himself on top of me – taking care not to put his full weight on me. His hands slid over my breasts; fingers tracing a purplish bruise his mouth had left there. “I didn’t mean to hurt you”, he said; and kissed the mark. “You didn’t”, I breathed, and stroked his cheek. “I’m all right”.

Our lips met again; brushing against each other. He ran his hand down my side; lifting my leg to lay it around his torso. I moaned from the angle he was getting; only having made such a slight change to our position. He kept kissing me and gently excavating my core. His pubic bone was softly pushing against my bundle of nerves as he moved; and I felt my insides beginning to clench around him.

“Geralt…”, I breathed. “I can… only once…”. “Yes”, he whispered into my ear. “Together”. Moving a little faster; we chased our highs together – moaning in unison.

It wasn’t the same explosion as the ones that I had felt the night before – but no less pleasurable. It was a poof; and then a soft wave of tingling warmth spreading throughout my body. Geralt came along with me; a quiet groan as he pushed into me one final time – his cock twitching along with his body’s jolt.

Sliding out of me; he laid back on the mattress. His hair was tussled, and I grinned at him. “What?”, he asked. “Now you look well and fucked”, I giggled. He raised his eyebrows and smiled back at me. “I am”.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Geralt?”, Jaskier called softly. “Are you awake?”

“Fuck”, Geralt grumbled.

I released myself from his grasp – squeezing his hand in the process – and went to get the robe I had left by the tub. The water was cold; but I used it to quickly rinse myself off from Geralts and my own juices; smiling at the memory of the moments we’d spent in it the night before.

Having put on his pants and breeches, and checked to see that I was decent – pouting playfully at the lack of skin he could see on me – Geralt unbolted and opened the door. Jaskier stepped in, carrying a tray of assorted fruits. “Good morning”, he chirped sweetly, like a mother to a child. He set down the tray, and sat himself on a chair by the table. Geralt went to build a fire.

“Well, that was a party!”, Jaskier smiled. “I didn’t see much of you. Where did you go?”. He looked from Geralt to me; to the untouched bedding on the cot by the door. Seeing my flushed cheeks; his mouth went agape. “Oh”. He said. “Oh! Oh, wow!”, he smiled brightly. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t see that coming”. Popping a grape into his mouth, he smirked and wiggled his brows. I ran a hand through my hair, and looked away.

“What do you want, Jaskier?”, Geralt asked. “I wanted to make sure to see you off”, the bard answered. I sat down across the table from him; wincing slightly from the pain in my nether regions. Jaskier drew in a long breath through his teeth. “Do you need some ice, my lady?”. I threw a plum at him. He laughed in response.

“Are you not continuing on with us?”, I asked, trying to change the subject. “Alas, I cannot”, he answered, stuffing his mouth with another three grapes. “The Baron has asked me to stay the week, and perform at the evening festivities each night. I’m charging him a good amount of coin for it”, he said proudly. “Good for you”, Geralt said disinterestedly. “Yes, well; I’m sure you’ll miss me very much”, Jaskier smirked at him.

He stood up and took my hand; kissing it chivalrously. “My lady. It has been an honor”, he said. “I shall write you another ode; and if we’re lucky, I’ll be able to sing it at your wedding”.

Geralt looked as if he was ready to smash the bards face into the wall.

Another knock on the door. “Jasky?”, a light voice tweeted. “Coming, Cri… Clo… Cuddle cake”, Jaskier called. “I can’t remember her name”, he whispered with a shrug.

He walked up to the witcher, and patted his shoulder. “Take care, old friend”, he said. “Goodbye, Jaskier”, Geralt answered. “Don’t die before we meet again”. Jaskier smiled brightly, and went out the door to join his newest conquest.

“I give it three days”, I smirked, making Geralt chuckle. He grabbed an apple from the tray, and took a large bite of it. “Get dressed”, he said, mouth full. I looked him with a raised eyebrow. He swallowed the bite. “Please?...”.

---

We set off from Tigg within an hour. Geralt had offered me to sit on Roach, but I’d declined. “It’s probably going to be a few hours before I can straddle anything again”, I’d smirked at him; getting a grunting chuckle in response.

It was strange leaving behind the place we’d spent the night making love; and moving towards the place he was to hand me over to another man. I think we both felt the awkwardness of the situation build; but once we’d left the village behind us, and were out of the sight of others, Geralt took my hand; clearly trying to clear the air, somehow.

“Are we going to… do that… again?”, I asked. Suddenly I felt strangely shy. “What do you mean?”, he smirked; looking out the corner of his eye at me. “Fuck you, Geralt”, I sneered. “Oh, that! Yeah, I wouldn’t mind”, he chuckled. My face reddened. “Hels ass. I feel like a… bloody juvenile”, I snorted.

He stopped, and pulled me in to his arms. “I don’t know what this is; but whatever it is, it feels good”. I looked up at him. “I want you to be happy; safe and content. And if it wasn’t for your soreness; I’d want to throw you against that tree over there, and screw your brains out, until you screamed in pleasure. Trust me when I say; I haven’t felt that way about someone in quite a while”. I laughed, and bit my lip. “That fucking lip”, he growled. I raised a brow at him, and smirked. “Don’t play with fire, little frog”, he said warningly.

I got on my toes, and kissed him softly. He groaned in response. “What did I just say?”, he said, and looked at me with mock threat in his eyes. “Fine”, I said, and we kept moving.

We walked throughout the day, stopping once for a bite of bread; and a tender kiss. The landscape changed again; as we moved towards the edge of forestland. The air had a brisk chill to it; biting at my nose and cheeks. My knee was no longer in any real pain; so, I tried to keep a brisk pace, to keep myself warm.

“Eager to get to our destination?”, Geralt asked curtly. “I’m cold”, I bit back. “Sorry”, he said, voice softer.

I saw a patch of white flowers at the side of the road; and let go of Geralts hand to examine them. Chamomile!, I realized, and began gently cutting their stems with my knife, to save them for future use. I saw more plants further in to the trees, that I wanted to have a look at. “Y/N”, Geralt called after me. “I’m just going to look at these flowers”, I called back. “Keep your bloody breeches on… If you insist…”, I mumbled.

I found another patch of flowers – pretty pink ones – which I recognized to be oleander. I wasn’t in the habit of dabbling in poison; but if the last week had taught me anything, it was to always be prepared. I moved on; finding both honeysuckle and mandrake. Looking back over my shoulder, I could no longer see the road; or Geralt. I realized I was lost.

I tried to find my own tracks, thinking that I could follow them back. I didn’t want to call out for the witcher, admittedly a little ashamed about my predicament. It was swiftly becoming darker around me – the sun beginning to set. Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm. Geralt looked at me with angry eyes.

“You’ve been gone over half an hour. I thought you were trying to run again!”, he snarled. His words made me turn from embarrassed to enraged. “Who says I wasn’t?”, I said. “The honeysuckle in your satchel”, he answered. “How did you?...”, I began; remembering his perfect sense of smell. “Of course”, I scoffed.

He dragged me back to the road; which to my embarrassment was only about 50 yards away.

“You need to stay near me”, he growled, not letting go of my arm, and snatching my satchel from me. “I can’t spend every minute of the day having to worry that you’ll suddenly wander off and get yourself in trouble!”.

“I wish you’d just ignore your duty for once, and take me somewhere else!”, I said. “Y/N…”, Geralt said, having let go of me. “I can’t… Even if I did, I couldn’t give you what you want”. I looked at him confused, but he seemed to take that as sadness. “I’m sorry, little frog”, he said. “I was made for one thing. To kill. I’m not going to be able to settle down in a cabin near Kaer Trolde; shearing sheep and tending to crops”.

I stopped in my tracks – rage seeping out of every pore of my being. “Did you completely miss the point of what I told you that night?”, I snarled. “I don’t want you to change for me. I just don’t want to…”.

“Shut up”, he said. I slapped him hard across the face. He looked at me with a sudden indignance; which made me lift my arm, to strike him again. He caught my wrist in the air. “Shut up, and get out of sight!”. He shoved me towards the side of the road; gesturing for me to get behind the trees that made out the edge of the forest. I instantly obeyed; recognizing the expression on his face.

Crouching behind a tree, I looked down the road from where we had been coming. A group of men on black horses were approaching.

“Halt!”, the rider at the front called out. “You! Where is the girl?”, he demanded, looking at Geralt. “What girl?”, the witcher answered. “Don’t play dumb. The girl you’re transporting!”.

I recognized the men as the ones who had been at Coodcoodlaks feast. “She’s gone”, Geralt answered calmly. “She ran off. I’m searching for her myself”. The man laughed gruffly. “You lost the future queen of Temeria? Even a witcher can’t be that stupid”, he sneered. “Or is it that you take me for a fool?”, he added. Geralt smirked. “You brought only 4 men for a fight with a witcher. That seems foolish”.

The man got off his horse; his men following his lead. They all drew their swords. “Don’t tempt me, mutant”. I saw Geralts face contract into anger, and held my breath. “You should have just told me, if you wanted to dance”, he said.

The man put his blade to Geralts throat; making the witcher lean back slightly. “Where. Is. She?”, the man said asked again. Geralt bared his teeth in a sneer – his expression terrifying. “She ran away”, he repeated. “Which is something you should do as well”.

The man let out an angry grunt, pulled back his sword; and went to join his men at the horses.

“Don’t walk away angry; just walk away”, Geralt called after him.

Suddenly I felt something cold and sharp against my neck. Someone put their arm around my waist; pulling me against them. “Hello there”, someone whispered in my ear. I could feel his hot breath and spittle against my neck. It smelled rancid.

He dragged me from my hiding place; his blade making it clear that I shouldn’t struggle. I couldn’t help myself though; and tried to jostle myself out of his grasp. His knife nicked at the skin on my neck; and I felt a tiny trickle of blood from the wound, running down my collarbone.

My captor dragged me onto the road; and shoved me towards the man who had been threatening Geralt. He grabbed a hold of me with a laugh; holding me close to his chest.

“There she is, the whore”, the man sneered. “Don’t worry, witcher. We’ll bring her to our master. I’m sure he’ll bring her to good use”.

“I’m…”, I tried, “…my name is… Zaba. I’m an herbalist. I don’t know who this man is”. “Sure you are, my lady”, the man growled into my ear. “What’s in the satchel? The crown jewels?”.

Geralt drew his sword. “Let her go”, he snarled; his eyes almost black – not from any draughts, but from pure rage. The men around us drew their own weapons; and their leader kept me held against him; turning me, so my back was to his chest. “No. No, I don’t think so”, he chuckled; and let his hand travel to my breast, taking a hold of it – testing its firmness. “Come to think of it, maybe I’ll have a go at her myself”.

Geralt took a fighting stance, and then jumped forward with a brutal slash, hitting one of the men across the torso. He fell to the ground with a scream; and I could see his guts spilling from his stomach. One of his companions instantly vomited at the sight.

The men sprang at the witcher; but had not counted for his speed. Even the man holding me seemed surprised; which gave me the chance I needed. I threw my head back – hitting his nose – and then slipped the sgian-dubh out of my boot, and spun around; stabbing him in the side. The man squealed like a stung pig; and stumbled backwards. I drew my knife back; and turned towards the fighting behind me.

Geralt was effortlessly avoiding the slashes of his opponents swords; slashing at one mans shoulder, and hitting another on the back of his knee, making him unable to stand. At this point, three men were dead or dying; and Geralt grabbed the throat of a fourth one; lifting him into the air, and lowering him onto his sword – killing him instantly in the process.

The witcher ran towards me and the leader laying on the ground. The man was bleeding out, color gone from his face. My first captor sprang onto his horse, and made to ride off. “Tell O’Dimm the witcher has her!...”, the man on the ground cried out; before Geralts sword pushed through his neck; making any other words disappear into a rattle. The rider kicked at his horse, and quickly disappeared into the forest.

I looked down at the dead man at my feet. “I killed him…”, I said below my breath. “No. I killed him”, Geralt said gruffly, and pulled back his sword. “We have to get out of here”. He examined the horses the dead men had arrived on; and apparently being satisfied with the build of one of them, he took my satchel, and fastened it to the black stallion. “Come on”, he said. I was frozen in place; looking at my bloody hands; breathing superficially.

Geralt put his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Y/N, these weren’t soldiers, but they were Nilfgaardian. They came here to take you to their master – Gaunter O’Dimm, I suspect. Whatever he has planned for you is not good”. He raised his eyebrows, boring into my eyes. “I killed them. They’re dead. It was bloody; you saw it happen, and you took part in the fighting yourself. This is real. And I need you to move past that; get on that horse, and follow me out of here”.

I shook myself. “Yes”, I said. Geralt nodded, and led me to the horse; quickly depositing me on its back. Kicking at the corpse of the man that had held me, he then took the mans sword, and fastened it to my saddle.

We rode through the night, putting as many miles between us and the battleground as possible.

---

As the sun began to rise, we arrived at a lake. Geralt helped me off my horse. He gently slid his thumb over the cut on my neck, and grunted. “You can wash up. I’ll find us something to eat”. He went to get his things; but I grabbed his hand, stopping him. He put his hand on my cheek. “I’ll be close”, he smiled reassuringly.

I walked down to the edge of the water. Meeting my own eyes in the reflection, I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me. Geralt dealt the finishing blow… but I killed him, I thought. I killed a man… a man that was going to do very bad things to me if I didn’t… and he’s dead now. Because of me. The thought didn’t make me as distraught as I thought it would. I should be screaming and feeling like a murderer – but in reality; I felt nothing but indifference. I’d done what I had to, to survive. I felt strangely… satisfied.

I quickly washed my face, arms and hands; and walked back to the horses. The black stallion standing next to Roach was beautiful and strong. I blew at his muzzle, as I had with Roach’s when I’d first met her – and he responded in kind. “You need a name, boy”, I whispered.

“Are you talking to your horse?”, Geralts gruff voice came from behind me. I turned to face him. “Training for conversations with you, I suppose”. He grunted with a smile.

He was carrying a dead hare by its ears, and slit his knife down its front, beginning to skin it. I winced at the sight. “You just saw 5 men killed brutally; but can’t stomach a hare being prepared for a meal?”, he chuckled. “I’ve just seen enough blood for a while”, I answered.

I went to build a fire, as Geralt continued his butchery of the hare. The flames were a welcome sight, after having ridden through the cold night. Putting the meat on a stick over the fire; Geralt looked at me with enquiring eyes. “You like animals?”, he asked. “No more than anyone else, I guess”, I answered. “But you know how to speak to them”, he said. I sighed, and considered his words. “I eat their meat; wear their skins; and ride their backs. It’s only fair to treat them with respect; if I expect for them to serve me like that”. He chuckled at my response, and handed me a piece of the meat to eat. It was sweet and gamey.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”, he said, between bites. “What do you mean?”. “The cat. How you talk to the horses. I’ve never seen anyone interact that way with animals”. I looked at him challengingly. “Ask”, I said, as he had to me those nights before. “You want to”. He laughed, and narrowed his eyes. “You’re playing with things you shouldn’t, little frog”, he said. “Magic isn’t for humans”.

I laughed at him. “Not everything is magic, witcher”, I said. “Sometimes it’s just two creatures meeting, and reacting”. He exhaled with a grunt. “Are you unhappy with my answer?”, I asked teasingly. He looked into the fire. “I think there is more to you than you're telling me”, he grumbled. “Maybe”, I said. “But if there is, I don’t know”. He nodded.

We went to wash our bowls in the lake. The morning sun was shining orange across the sky. “Do you usually hit your lovers?”, the witcher asked out of nowhere. I looked at him questioningly. He gestured at a scratch on his cheek, that I’d apparently left there when I slapped him. I smirked. “Only the ones who ask for it”. He made a scoffing laugh.

“You missed a spot”, I smiled. “Where?”, he said, looking down at his bowl. “There”, I said; took a handful of water, and threw it at his face. I laughed heartily – until I saw his expression. It wasn’t angry, but it was menacing. He wiped his face, and snarled. I threw my bowl on the ground, and ran. “Hurry, little frog!”, he growled after me.

Laughing, I sped towards the trees; him fast at my heels. “Does water make witchers melt, like it does witches?”, I giggled, and looked back towards him. He was gone. My heart was in my throat, and a tingle spread through my body in anticipation. I couldn’t see him anywhere. I spun around, and he appeared in front of me; grabbing me around my waist with one arm. “I don’t know; do witches melt?”, he said, and emptied his bowl – filled with water – over my head. I yelped, and struggled to get away from him. I could feel his hardness against my stomach, and my breath hitched. Biting my lip; I smirked at him. “Fire…”, he growled; and grabbed my mouth in a violent kiss, leaving me breathless and panting. “There are plenty of trees around”, I moaned against him; and he picked me up – pushing me against an old oak.

Everything happened fast after that. Frantically kissing and panting; he pulled up my skirts; and put his large hand between my legs – earning a desperate mewl from me. “Mmhmm…”, he groaned; excavating my folds, and sliding two fingers into me. “No bath to confuse your wetness this time”, he growled into my mouth, as he kept kissing me. His fingers hooked, and his palm rubbed against my nub; quickly drawing me closer to my undoing. I was desperately trying to keep my composure; but quickly had to accept the fact that I was coming violently on his hand. He chuckled menacingly at me. “Only once isn’t going to be enough this time”, he said; pulling out his fingers, and tasting my juices on them. “Mmmhmm…”, he smirked.

I was still seeing starts as he was beginning to undo the buttons on his breeches; one knee between my knees to keep me from moving. I managed to push him away; meeting his confused eyes with a teasing smile. I turned him around; and pushed him against the tree; kneeling down in front of him. Looking up at him, his expression had turned primal; the pupil in his amber eyes blown.

I finished the task he had started on his breeches; and reached down into his pants, taking a hold of his hardness – relishing in the soft skin covering the rod-like firmness underneath it. I tasted the salty precum with the tip of my tongue; and closed my eyes, smiling. I gently cupped his testicles; and folded his penis against his stomach; tracing my tongue from the base to the head of it.

Geralt gasped, and put his hand on my head; sliding his fingers into my hair. “Y/N”, he sighed. Giving his balls a soft squeeze; I slid my lips around the head and sucked at it, before moving my head towards the base; massaging it with my tongue all the way.

Geralt let out another gasp; and I released him from my mouth, smiling up at him. “I think I found your weakness, witcher”, I whispered; letting my index finger find the soft skin just behind his testes, stroking it. I pumped his cock, and licked the tip again. “Princess…”, he moaned. I gave his member a firm squeeze, and frowned up at him; removing my tongue from where it had been. Chiding him with my eyes, he smiled apologetically. “Sorry”, he breathed. “Better”, I smiled; and slid him into my mouth again; going as deep as I could without choking.

I kept massaging his balls, and hummed softly as I bobbed my head back and forth. He tasted better than any treat I’d had before. Before long I felt the precious jewels in my hand tighten; and Geralts voice became strained in his moaning. He grabbed tightly at my hair, and cried out – before coming in my mouth. Pulling him out, I looked him in the eyes; swallowed; and smiled.

He stroked my cheek, and looked at me in wonder. In front of my face, his still hard member was twitching; and I gave it a final lick at its head – like it was a delicious sweetie on a stick. “Fuck”, he groaned at me, looking on in amazement. I stood up; straightened my skirts and smiled again. “That was lovely”, I said sweetly, and went to walk back to the horses.

“Not finished!”, he snarled; picked me up; and slammed me against the tree-trunk again. I gasped in shock. “Again?”, I squeaked. “Again”, he growled; hitched my skirts back up, and sank into me with his still rock hard cock.

“Remember what I said?”, he breathed into my ear. I nodded; digging my fingers into his jerkin, holding on to him as he thrusted. “Screaming in pleasure, little frog”. “Do your best, wolf!”, I panted.

Having held on to only one of my legs; he now lifted the other one from the ground; and was now carrying my weight, as he continuously hammered into my core. The familiar tingling returned; turning in to a pulsating warmth; before finally exploding – as I began throbbing around his length.

And then I did as he’d said. I screamed in pleasure.

---

Thanks for reading.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

- no lady

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[goodomensblog]

Afterward - Part 13

A Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Here’s how it works:

I’ll write a scene.

At the end of each scene, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.

Comment or reblog to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes after the first 24 hours after each update is posted.

Read: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

(Another landslide winner! #2 was the clear favorite. Thank you for voting!)

Afterward - - - Part 13

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

“If you want to keep that hand, demon, you’ll release me. Now.”

Crowley, despite very much wanting to keep said hand, does not let go.

When Gabriel reaches over his shoulder, pulling his Heavenly sword from the aether, Crowley twists out of the way. “Woah, woah, woah - hey! Hold on. Just wait.”

“Just wait?” Gabriel snaps, voice dripping with incredulity. “Heaven is under attack, and you want me to just wait?”

“What about Beelzebub?”

“What about them? Maybe - just maybe it’s a bunch of demons who are fighting my angels right now!”

“That thing, whatever it was we felt - that was not demonic, you know it as well as I do.”

“Then what the fuck are my angels fighting?” Gabriel asks, his knuckles going white around the sword pulled halfway into existence. 

From beyond the hall, the cries have grown louder, fiercer - more desperate. There is a static crackling in the air and the acrid, burnt smell of ozone.

Crowley, after risking a glance at the sword, releases Gabriel’s sleeve - and instead, grabs him by the wrist.

“Something,” Crowley hisses, “that was strong enough to bust into Heaven with one blow. Something that I’ve never encountered - and I once traveled all the universe hanging stars. Something that’s, by the sounds of it, carving through ranks of highly trained angelic warriors like butter.”

“That’s why,” Gabriel says, giving his arm a savage yank, “I need to-”

“That’s why you’re gonna want a bloody Lord of Hell in fighting shape!”

At that, Gabriel’s struggles momentarily cease. He blinks, scoffing, “You can’t seriously think-”

“I think that Beelzebub wants to live. And they - like Aziraphale and myself, are currently stuck in Heaven with you, a bunch of angels, and whatever the fuck that thing is. So be smart about this, you giant idiot. Save Beelzebub. Help us find out what they know. And maybe, just maybe we can all use Beelzebub, Lord of Hell, to help us get out of this god damned- er, blessed - augh - whatever! Predicament!” Crowley finishes, chest heaving.

It isn’t exactly a lie. While Crowley is certain Beelzebub, like a cornered cat, will indeed willingly fight whatever this thing is, he is not at all sure how battle ready old Beelzebub will be after just a handful of Hellfire. 

But Gabriel doesn’t need to know that.

White knuckled fingers loosen their hold on the sword’s gleaming hilt. Gabriel sinks back. Running a hand up and over his face, he mutters to himself, and sharp, ugly curses fill the spaces between his breaths. When his eyes open, his razor-edge gaze zeroes in on Crowley’s hand. “Seriously. Stop touching me.”

Crowley’s hand snaps open.

“I won’t abandon my soldiers. Not now. Not when they need me,” Gabriel says, yanking his jacket straight. “So you’ll have to retrieve the Hellfire.”

Crowley, who had realistically expected this conversation to end with one of them flipping the middle finger and the other attempting to administer a beheading, takes a moment to process this development.

“I - wait - you want me to-?”

“Yes. Obviously. Shut up.”

“Right. Okay,” Crowley says, and shakes his head. “Wait, where-”

“Do you remember where the records are stored?”

Crowley pauses at that. 

His memory of Heaven - it’s strange. In many ways, it blurs together, a mural of incandescent colors, textures, half-recalled musical notes, voices - that from up close, are nearly incomprehensible.  

But there are moments of clarity. As if he has, for a second, stepped back a pace, and sees just a glimpse of the full thing; an expansive mural that his mosaic memories press together to create. He knows he hung the stars. And he knows, from some forgotten space in him mind, where in these white marble halls the records are kept.

“Yes,” Crowley says, because he can picture the room in his mind now: those twin pillars on either side of that tall, golden door.

“It’s stored on the highest level, in the silver chest,” Gabriel says, curt.

“Got it,” Crowley says, already retreating - because now that Gabriel has given him the information he needs, Crowley doesn’t want to go and give the archangel a chance to change his mind. 

But Gabriel has already turned away. Black, polished shoes tapping smartly against white marble, the angel strolls down the hall and draws a gleaming sword out of the air.

Crowley is mentally mapping his route. He’ll need to take the first door on the right, then cross the atrium and - 

Gabriel’s shout catches him before he can leave.

“By the way, I’m not an idiot, demon. I do know that a single jar of expired Hellfire’s not exactly going to do any demonic miracles.” Gabriel stands at the end of the hall, violet eyes bright in the half light. “And I know Beelzebub’s not going to help anyone anytime soon.”

Crowley stops, turning fully back.

Gabriel lifts the sword, jabbing the blade in Crowley’s direction. “After all this is done, I will be in touch. I expect Beelzebub to share the information they promised me.”

Crowley stares, baffled. “What are you-”

“No - nuh - shush!” Gabriel snaps, waving the sword. “In my room, there’s a passageway out of Heaven. It’s behind the tapestry. After you heal Beelzebub, take them and go.”

“Ohh-kay,” Crowley says, trying to wrap his mind around this second surprising development. “You - that’s - uh - huh. You know, that’s actually pretty nice of you, Gabriel.”

“Yeah, no - zip it,” Gabriel bites out, shifting with obvious discomfiture. “The last thing I need is anyone finding a couple of demons and a bad angel in my private rooms. Take Beelzebub and get out.” And with a final jab in Crowley’s direction, Gabriel spins the sword with a flourish and disappears into a beam of screaming light.

“What a nutcase,” Crowley says to the empty hallway. 

He crosses the atrium at a sprint, keeping a careful eye out for angels - but the atrium and surrounding halls are empty. Heaven’s full forces have been mustered, then. It’s a sobering thought, and one that makes Crowley run just a little faster. 

 As he runs, he can’t help but think of Uriel and Gabriel’s conversation. God is….missing? Could it possibly be true? Crowley’s head tilts back, as if he might spy Her amongst the arched ceiling tiles stretching forlornly above.

She couldn’t be gone, right?

After all, where would She go?

The entrance to the Hall of Records is as abandoned as the rest of Heaven, and Crowley flings open it’s arched doors. The Records Room is - staggering. Crowley’s step slow as shelves and stairs rise up around him. His footsteps echo - from marble floors, between pillars, up winding stairs, and fading as they rise into the cavernous dome extending far, far above.

Crowley swears softly, and that echoes too.

As his shoe touches the first stair, he thinks of where he wants to be: the top floor; and when he reaches the second step, the domed ceiling is suddenly directly above him - and the top floor, bathed in gold, is before him, as though it had always been.

Crowley doesn’t have time for surprise or awe, so he focuses instead on the chest; which is sitting, unbothered, at the far side of the room. 

He half expects some kind of booby trap, so when the silver lid slides unhesitatingly open, Crowley can’t help but flinch back. 

Nothing happens. 

Brows lifted, Crowley peers tentatively over the chest’s edge. There, at its center, sits a black jar. Sniffing the air, Crowley can just make out the slightest hints of sulfur.

Tensing, he reaches a hand in - and is relieved when his fingers close over the lid of the jar. He draws it out - and breathes a grateful sigh when no traps spring and no alarms blare.

Kneeling before the chest, he cracks the jar’s lid. When roaring heat surges forth, he snaps the lid back.

“Yep, that’s the stuff,” he says, and screws the lid tight.

Crowley takes the stairs at a run. On the first step, he thinks of the ground floor, and on the second step, he steps confidently into - a room stacked with scrolls.

“Huh,” he says, craning his head back to look at rich oak shelves and the layers of pale scrolls artfully piled upon them. “You’re not what I wanted.”

Deciding to try again, Crowley is turning back to the stairs when faded paint catches his eye. 

He stops.

The mural is nearly entirely covered by shelves and scrolls. The visible section is a web of cracked paint and fading colors - a stark contrast to Heaven’s typically immaculate decor. But even faded as it is, Crowley can make out, clear as day, a Bentley - his Bentley, painted in peeling fresco. 

Crowley blinks. Rubs his eyes. Squints, and blinks again.

“That’s....weird.”

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

Rushing back with the Hellfire, Crowley has stumbled upon an impossible oddity in the Hall of Records. When faced with this strange omen, Crowley will…

Investigate. He doesn’t have much time to spare, but he can’t leave without uncovering the other side of this mysterious mural. 

Leave. The mural is strange, but time is of the essence. Crowley can’t risk the detour.

Please comment or reblog to vote! I can’t wait to see what you all choose :)

Part 14

#good omens #my writing #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #choose your own adventure fic #good omens choose your own adventure #aziraphale #crowely #aziraphale x crowley #good omens gabriel #good omens beelzebub

[george-mackay-macfine]

Wedding plan,

Requested: No / Yes

Synopsis: George need Eleanore to make his ex jealous. Things go further than they both planned. 

Word Count: 2,320

A/N: This is an idea for a film I was writing, I hadn’t worked on it on years but wanted to turn it into a George fic cause I love the concept. This hasn’t been proof read,

To begin this, I need to relive the worst time of my life. The time my girlfriend of six years dumped me, out of nowhere. 

And to add insult to injury her older sister invited me to her wedding, with an additional plus one… 

So, I devised a plan to get her back, a plan which involved my best friend. Eleanore,

To begin I needed to get Eleanore and our friend Michael to agree to come with me, and that meant crashing their movie night.

Through the door to their apartment I could hear the music of Friday the thirteenth playing, and knowing how much Eleanore and Michael scare, I took it as an opportunity. 

As I slammed the door open Michael and Eleanore jumped, Eleanore throwing popcorn everywhere.  

“I know how I'm winning her back.” I stride into the living room, throwing the door closed behind me. 

“Bugger,” Michael moaned picking popcorn out of his wine glass. I sit in front of them on the coffee table. 

“Katherine, I know how I’m winning her back.” Eleanore picks popcorn out of her hair, throwing some of the kernels at me. 

“Yippie,” 

“Who are you again?” Michael snorts. I open my mouth to reply only to be cut off by Michael. “You kind of look like our old friend George, except our old friend George ditched us for some girl and her magical vagina,” Michael stands and sways past me into the kitchen,

“C’mon Michael, she’s not just some girl.” 

“He’s right Michael,” I look over to her and give her an appreciative smile. “The world girl isn't being properly used, Medusa may be a closer match?”

“Hey now, c’mon,” 

“But you're right. He does have similar features to Michael, for example this one also looks like a total dickhead.” She deadpanned. 

“Look I'm sorry guys. I am. I know I've been a shit mate these last couple of weeks.”

“Eight,” Michael called from the kitchen.

“What?”

“Couple means two, you've been a shit mate for longer than that.” Michael finishes, I look at Eleanore who nods her head in confirmation. 

“Fine. Eight weeks. Thank you Michael. And I'm sorry for that but guys. I need to see her.”

“She won't see me. Please.” Michael walks out from the kitchen and sits beside Eleanore on the couch. “Please.” 

“Fine, What’s your plan?” I pull the envelopes out of my top pocket and hold them towards him. 

“This.”

“You're going to write her a letter.” Eleanore raises her eyebrow. 

“Bit tame, don't you think mate?” Michael chuckles. 

“No, Felicity and Michael's wedding party. She'll be there as Bridesmaid, and we'll be there as guests.” 

“But we weren't invited.” Eleanore clicks her fingers and points at Michael in agreement.  

“But you were.” I fan the envelopes open, revealing the other two. Eleanore reaches forward and grabs the two addressed for Michael and herself. 

“Whose Felicity again?”

“You know this is criminal offence?” Eleanore spoke at the same time as Michael. 

“You know Felicity. She used to come to all the parties... She used to be…” I looked to Eleanore for help .

“Bigger…"

“O.” Michael studies his invitation before looking up to me. “I mean sure, you can show up to this thing looking like a total dish, but that's not really going to do anything to her is it? Not going to make her see what a narky cow she's been.”

“I dunno, I suppose I was just going to show up, and show her I've changed.” 

“That won't work. It's not going to get her blood pumping is it? Make her jealous.” Michael smirked before he looked to Eleanore. “Eleanore can be your date. For all Katherine knows in the time since she left you, you've gone and coozied up to Elle.”

“Yes, then when the wedding comes we can spend the week in Scotland showing her I've changed, and break up at the reception.” Eleanores face shifts to one of disgust. 

“You're mad. You think I want to spend a week in Scotland helping you win back your crazy ex-girlfriend.”

“Please Nore, you're the only one who could make it happen.”

“No I'm bloody not. She hates me, if anything that'll turn her against you even more, idiot.”

“She's a point there mate.” Michael clicks his fingers. I kneel in front of Eleanore and hold onto her hands. 

“She doens't hate you. She just isn't your biggest fan.” I began to plead. “Please. I love her, and I need to win her back.”

“Give me one good reason why I should help you."

“I'll give you two. One, you're my closest friends, two because I love her Eleanore. I need her with me.”

“No,” She stands up and walks towards the kitchen. I share a look with Michael. 

“... Thomas will be there.” Michael coo’s, Eleanore stops, spins slightly. 

“I'm listening.”

“Well, you and Thomas still have that super weird, sexual tension right?”

“You mean their game of cat and mouse they play?” I turned to Michael and raised an eyebrow. 

“It's not cat and mouse.”

"Then what would you call it?” I turned back to her. 

“Mutual use.”

“Well, why don’t you and George both mutually use each other?” Michael smirked. 

And that’s how we ended up here. My best friend Eleanore and I have spent the last four days hanging off one and other, all to irritate our ex’s, or in Elle’s case, 'ignite something in their loins’

I watched her from across the room as I rolled the joint between my fingers, gently rolling the thin cylindrical roll of goodness. 

“Turn on some music,” I called from my side of the room as I brought the wrapping to my lips, licking the open end of it. 

“On it,” Eleanore opened the window behind her, the cool chill of the Scottish night rushing over me. “Brings back memories doesn’t it?” I heard her call, eliciting a chuckle from behind me. 

“All the way back to our first year of University,” I heard her move to the floor where we’d created a nest of cushions and pillows and flip on the stereo. “You know, I always thought it’d be you and I,” I admitted, the wine from the nights dinner going to my head. 

“What?” 

“Second year of University. Remember we lived with Michael, Morgan, and Freddie in that shitty little house.” I looked at her, laying in the bed we’d made. Her cheeks flushed from the wine we’d drunk. 

“Course I remember,” I smiled, the warmth of the memories rushing through me as she looked at me.

“You always used to sneak into my bedroom late at night, after parties.” I finished rolling, “We’d sit out on the roof smoking cheap cigarettes and talk for hours about nothing.” I pulled out a lighter, “To me… back then it was everything.”

“George…"

”First time I met you, I promised myself that I would never fall in love with you, but it was three in the morning and we were laughing way too hard at something stupid,” I walked over and lay beside her, the now lit joint hanging from my lips. “And for the first time in a long time I felt happy, And that’s when I knew I was screwed.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me back then?” I passed her the joint, 

“I couldn’t lose you.” I gripped her hand as she put the joint between her lips and inhaled. “And then you started to date Thomas. God do you know what it’s like to feel that way about someone who doesn’t feel like that about you?” She slowly let the smoke out as I digested what I’d admitted. 

“It’s like drowning, but you won’t fucking drown.” I moved beside her, turning to look at her. God she’s beautiful.

“Who did you love?” She turned to face me, our noses brushing. 

“You,” She whispered. “Third year, after Thomas and I broke up for the first time and you’d just started dating Katherine…” She cleared her throat. “You weren’t home a lot… But when you were I sat there, three o’clock in the morning on top of the roof smoking cheap shitty cigarettes, falling in love with you. Your face, your voice. All of you,” I turned away from her, She didn’t move she was still looking at my face.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I whispered. 

“Like you, I was afraid of losing you. I’d become so attuned to having you in my life, that the thought of you being anywhere else scared the utter shit out of me.” I turned to look at her again. 

“You and I are just one big ‘it’s complicated’ aren’t we?” She let out another buff. 

“I think we’re just going to have to be secretly in love with each other, and leave it at that.” The music stops, I look away from Eleanore, she looks towards the stereo. One of us is going to have to move. 

“Not it,” I cried quickly. 

“Fucking christ, It’s closest to you George.” I shrug and takes the joint from her lips, popping it between my own. 

“I won, you move.” She groaned and rolled her body. She was partially laying onto of me as she began reaching above to grab the speaker. 

“Jesus, just grab it.” I groaned as her hair fell on my face. 

“It’s just ugh, I can’t reach it.” 

“Just get it,” 

“Fine.” She moved again, straddling my hips, moving to easily reach the speaker. I watched as the pendant slip out from beneath her shirt and dangle over my face.

“You still have this,” My hands grip the pendant, fingers moving over the metal as the music restarted. It was the pendant I’d given her for her birthday in second year. 

“Of course I do,” My hands move away from the pendant over her shoulders. My eyes run over her face. I sat up and leant back on my elbows watching her. 

“How come I haven’t noticed how beautiful you are lately?” She unconsciously moved down towards me. 

“Because you’ve been busy looking at someone else since third year.”

“What a bloody idiot,” I grabbed her and pulled her towards me. My lips meeting hers, I felt the hesitation, and tasted the red wine that stained them. “Don’t think about it,” I whispered before my tongue touched hers. My hands begin to slowly move her shirt off her shoulders as her fingers began to unbutton my shirt. “Nore,” I pulled away looking at her. 

“Mutual use,” She whispered. 

“George,” Someone called with a loud knock on the door. I shifted, feeling Eleanore’s head bury itself into my chest. “It’s me,” I unwrapped my hands from Eleanore’s body, pushing a kiss to her lips as I got up. Pulling on my pants and shirt I walked to the door, pulling it open. 

“Katherine? what are you doing here?” 

“I was hoping we could talk, in private.” She tried to peak around the door. I pulled it behind me. 

“Let me grab my shoes. Won't be a tick.” I ducked back inside grabbing my shoes and pulling them on. I lent down and kissed Eleanore on the head before rushing back to Katherine. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“Us,” 

Michael and Eleanore stood out the front of the doors as the crowd gathered. Eleanore clapped her hands as the bride and groom passed by them, others throwing rose petals. 

“Well,” Michael started loudly, “For a wedding we only attended to make George’s ex jealous, I am happy for them.” 

“Super,” Eleanore muttered. 

“Reception time,” Michael fluttered his fingers, his hand wrapping around her wrist. 

“Y/N, wait.” I called from behind them, I watched as Eleanore tried to move away quicker pulling Michael with her.

“We don’t want to talk to him?” Michael looked back at me with an eyebrow raised. 

“We don’t?” 

“Eleanore. Will you talk to me. What's wrong?” She let go of Michael and pulled me to the side.

“I got my hopes up.” She whispered. 

“About what?” 

“About you actually loving me back.” She whispered, trying to pull away from me. “Forget it.” She sniffled. “It's pathetic really, how much I still hope it's you and me in the end because I know you love her, How much you want her.” 

“Eleanore,” 

“But I'm still the stupid girl whose been in love with you since third year.” 

“But you said,” I took a step backwards, she loves me. 

“I know what I fucking said. I lied G. It's you, it's always been you.” She screamed. 

“Then why would you agree to this?” I screamed back. “Why would you agree to come to this wedding, to make Katherine jealous?” 

“Because I'm an idiot. I thought that if we spent time together, and pretended to be together you would somehow see it's me. Not her,” She moaned hands covering her eyes. “I’m an idiot.” 

“Nore, you’re my best-friend.”

“Friends don't look at each other the way we do George,” Her eyes moved behind me, filling with flames. Someone was walking towards us, and I could only guess it was Katherine.

“Nore…” 

“George, come on the party is starting.” Katherine reached out and wraps her arm around my bicep. 

“Good enough to fuck, but nothing more.” I heard her whisper. “And you…” Her eyes turned to Katherine. “Fuck you, You made me feel like I was never good enough, for Thomas, for George.” Her face fell. “Guess what. I was good enough. I am good enough.” Behind her Michael clapped loudly, Thomas even joined in. 

“Eleanore, let me talk.”

“I almost wish we'd never met George.” She rushed away from me, her cheeks pooling with tears. 

“C’mon George, the party…” 

“Did you know about this?” I asked Michael. "Why didn't you say something? We're just friends.” I screamed. “Why would you suggest this,” My chest heaved with the effort. 

#george mackay #georgemackay #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #george mackay smut

[lunasilvermorny]

Facing the past - Luna and Jacob

This is not part of the headcanon. It’s simply a dialogue that Luna and Jacob would have had if they actually talked about their problems instead of sweeping everything under the rug.

They have so many unresolved issues, that I thought it would be an interesting concept to explore. It got intense.

Enjoy.

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

Luna: Aren’t you tired of playing the victim when you’re clearly at fault here?

Jacob: Right, I forgot I was talking to father’s mindless lacky.

Luna: I am not his lacky! Just because you have a warped perception-

Jacob: Accurate perception.

Luna: -of me, doesn’t mean that you know what the bloody hell you’re talking about!

Jacob: Won’t you ever shut up?!

Luna: You’re a failure! You have no one to blame but yourself-

Jacob: Yes, father.

Luna: -if you only did something with your life-

Jacob: Yes, father.

Luna: -instead of acting like a child.

Jacob: You’re right, father.

Luna: LIKE NOW! ACTING LIKE A CHILD!

Jacob: At least I can think for myself!

Luna: Oh, right. You’re so edgy. Hey everyone, look at me-!

Jacob: And I’m the child?

Luna: I wear leather and I smoke like a chimney! Aren’t I cool? Screw the man - literally!

Jacob: Is that supposed to be funny?

Luna: You are a self-centered prick that has nothing to offer and can only stand up against literal children and bully them!

Jacob: I was trying to prevent you from turning into HIM!

Luna: You were trying to kill me!

Jacob: Oh, please. Could you be any more mellowdramatic?

Luna: What about the time you used Bombarda on me?

Jacob: I was aiming for your toy.

Luna: You hit my god damn face!

Jacob: By accident!

Luna: I was 6, you psychopath!

Jacob: Were you already a mindless lacky at the age of 6? Impressive.

Luna: What about the time you destroyed my arm?!

Jacob: It was a tiny scratch-

Luna: It took the healers 6 mouths to fully reconstruct it!

Jacob: Fine, but I was a kid too!

Luna: Funny, when I was at that age, I haven’t completely obliterated any of Olivia’s limbs!

Jacob: Of course not, you were too busy climbing up father’s bum!

Luna: Father this, father that-

Jacob: Yes, father this, father that! He’s the real monster, if you’re looking to blame anyone.

Luna: You think I don’t know how he’s like?

Jacob: Oh, please.

Luna: Because I do-

Jacob: OH, PLEASE!

Luna: I know more than you think, you just never gave me enough credit. You never had even the slightest respect for me!

Jacob: What is there to respect? You were a mini version of him!

Luna: I was a child!

Jacob: You were a little devil.

Luna: I WAS A CHILD!!

Jacob: You can yell it all you want, still doesn’t change the fact that you were a nasty little twat.

Luna: Oh, me? Really? Was I the one that constantly pranked you?

Jacob: You were asking to be pranked, with that stupid face of yours.

Luna: Was I the one that constantly belittling you?

Jacob: It was a matter of time and you know it.

Luna: No, it wasn’t.

Jacob: It was. I knew he’ll get inside your head eventually and turn you against me, so what was the point in even trying? I had no chance, you adored him!

Luna: I have my issues with him, just as much as you do.

Jacob: Yeah, right.

Luna: What the hell would you know?!

Jacob: Aren’t you still in that cozy closet of yours? I know mum knows, she always knew, but does he know?

Luna: ...

Jacob: Right. So you haven’t told him - what a shocker!

Luna: Why the hell would I tell him?

Jacob: Because that’s who you are! You want to know how he reacted when I told him?

Luna: You should’ve kept it to yourself.

Jacob: How can you, of all people, say that?

Luna: He’s old and set in his ways. What’s the point in antagonizing him?

Jacob: You’re right, how dare I find men attractive?

Luna: That’s not what I meant and you know it.

Jacob: All I know is that you’re a little coward. Afraid to ruin your reputation as his perfect little princess?

Luna: He is old! What good would it make?!

Jacob: Don’t you want to be yourself?

Luna: I don’t need to! Not in front of him.

Jacob: Wow, so rebellious.

Luna: You told him because you knew it would push him over the edge!

Jacob: Ha! Oh, really? Was that the reason? Good to know!

Luna: He already had his problems with you-

Jacob: Exactly. EXACTLY! Do you have any idea how it feels that my own father hates me?! My own father thinks I’m a bloody mistake!

Luna: And instead of proving him otherwise-

Jacob: There was no way to prove anything! That horrible man made my life miserable ever since I can remember!

Luna: Look at that, just like you did to me.

Jacob: I was trying to help you!

Luna: You were taking your frustration on me! I was your bloody scapegoat, since you couldn’t confront father, and you know it!

Jacob: You are so blind!

Luna: No, you’re just a hypocrite!

Jacob: Fine, I’m a hypocrite! But it doesn’t mean that man gets a free pass for all the crap he put me through!

Luna: He had a messed up family too-

Jacob: Don’t you even try-

Luna: -they were literally Death Eaters!

Jacob: -to compare the situations. He married mum out of spite! He brought us to this world out of SPITE!

Luna: They messed him up-

Jacob: That doesn’t justify his actions!

Luna: -really bad and you know it.

Jacob: He messed me up!

Luna: Yeah, well. Me too. That doesn’t mean I’m crying about it like a freaking infant!

Jacob: YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS MAN DID TO ME!

Luna: Yeah, made you feel worthless. Boo-fucking-hoo. Join the club.

Jacob: Really? Did he ever beat you up?

Luna: Of course not.

Jacob: Did he ever screwed up your face so badly that mum had to literally reconstruct it?!

Luna: I know that he’s not a good man, but he wouldn’t resort to violence.

Jacob: When he found out I’m gay, he used the CRUCIATUS curse on me!

Luna: ...

Jacob: Do you have any idea what it’s like being tortured by your own father?!

Luna: ...

Jacob: Nothing to say, all of a sudden?

Luna: You’re a liar.

Jacob: Oh, am I?

Luna: Yes, you are clearly lying.

Jacob: Of course you’ll say that, you worthless arse.

Luna: You must be really desperate-

Jacob: Why would I lie about it?!

Luna: -to create such fake- BECAUSE YOU’RE A LIAR!

Jacob: ASK HIM! Ask mum. Let’s see what they’ll say.

Luna: Fuck you.

Jacob: And if you ever come out to him, that’s exactly what’s expecting you. You’re welcome, by the way. I had no one to give me a heads-up.

Luna: Shut up! I don’t need to hear these kinds of lies for the psychopath that was probably a few pranks away from using the same curse on me!

Jacob: I would never-!

Luna: You are the only one that ever physically hurt me in our family.

Jacob: ...

Luna: How dare you pass the blame to him, after everything you’ve done.

Jacob: I... I never intended to hurt you, honestly. You were just so much alike! With your stupid smirk and insufferable voice-

Luna: I was helpless.

Jacob: Well, so was I.

Luna: I don’t care. You are the older sibling, you should have known better.

Jacob: ...

Luna: You don’t deserve any sympathy. None!

Jacob: I care about you and that’s more than that horrible excuse of a father would ever give you. He is incapable of real love and you know it.

Luna: ...

Jacob: There is no such thing as unconditional love with that man.

Luna: I don’t need unconditional love. Never have.

Jacob: He is a bad man.

Luna: I know. You’re both bad-

Jacob: He’s worst!

Luna: I know.

Jacob: No, you don’t. If you don’t believe me, then you don’t know.

Luna: Nothing would convince me that you’re telling the truth now.

Jacob: Then ask him.

Luna: I will, but I already know that you’re lying.

Jacob: We’ll see.

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

Some cuts are just too deep to mend. I can’t think of any scenario that could ever truly repair their damaged relationship. That’s why they chose to just ignore the past and act as if nothing happened, while letting all the passive-aggressive remarks slip through the cracks.

This post is long enough, but if you’re interested, I’ll add the part where she asks their father about Jacob’s allegations.

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

Edgar: Yes, Luna. Come in.

Luna: Hello, father.

Edgar: As you can see, I am very busy. Is it urgent?

Luna; I just have one question.

Edger: All right, go ahead.

Luna: Have...have you ever…?

Edgar: Speak, child. I have no time for hesitancy.

Luna: Have you ever used the Cruciatus curse on him? Jacob, I mean.

Edgar …

Luna: …

Edgar: No.

Luna: Okay…

Edgar: Anything else?

Luna: No, that's all.

*She turned to leave*

Edgar: Luna.

Luna: Yes, father?

Edgar: You have great potential and your OWLs prove it. Do not let him take you down with him. He is below your level in any regard and he knows it. That is why he dragged you into the these vaults nonsense and that is why he is planting these ridiculous ideas inside your head.

Luna: Yes, father.

--

Rowan: So, what happened?

Luna: He did it.

Rowan: Oh, Luna, I’m... I’m so sorry-

Luna: I don’t want to talk about it.

--

Jacob: So, have you asked father yet?

Luna: ...

Jacob: Didn’t like what you’ve heard?

Luna: Of course I haven’t asked him, you’re obviously lying!

Jacob: Figures. You’re such a coward.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #barely headcanon #luna silver #jacob silver #edgar silver #messed up past #there are no saints in the silver family #every time i'm starting to feel sorry for jacob #i remind myself #that he was a terrible brother to luna #and it balances things out for me #their father's family abused him too when he was a child #no nice slytherins in this family #sorry for all the cool slytherins out there

[star-spangled-eyes]

Dirty Mind: Part 3: Love Hurts

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. Some dialogue and events in Book 1 of TRR are property of Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Drake’s perspective  

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this miniseries: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, angst, sex (including character’s thoughts and innuendos)

Masterlist

A/N: I wrote this miniseries in the first person perspective of Drake Walker. It follows events in Book 1 of TRR, but not everything is as you’d remember it from the story. Some things have been altered to better fit this fanfic.

I really enjoyed getting into the brain of Drake, and I hope you like it too. He’s a stud, and I love his sexual, angsty mind.

Enjoy the conclusion! Thanks for reading!

Word Count for this chapter: 6144

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04 @pedudley @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker @kingliam2019 @loveellamae @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020 @indiana-jr​ @yukinagato2012​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​

The next day I drove my truck to Ramsford earlier than I was scheduled to. Maxwell called me, frantic and desperate for help getting the estate prepped before the rest of court showed up the following day. Apparently their staff took the day off unbeknownst to the Brothers Beaumont, and there was a ton of shit to do.

Normally, I’d say no, but I’d grown closer to Maxwell over the past couple months and felt bad for the guy. Not to mention Bragnae would be there. I was excited to see her, but after I came back down to earth from my pleasured high of being with Bragnae, I realized what we’d done.

I couldn’t shake the doom and gloom feeling I had since this morning. I betrayed my best friend to be with his girl. I lost all sense and control and I shouldn’t have. I should have been stronger than that. I had plenty of opportunities to leave her room last night that I chose to ignore. I was a shitty friend. And worse yet, Liam didn’t even know. The poor guy had no clue I even liked her let alone that we shared an intimate experience last night.

How the fuck am I going to tell him? He’ll hate me forever. We didn’t technically have sex. Maybe he’ll be more forgiving of that. I sighed in disgust at myself. Who am I kidding? We both kissed, grinded and moaned our way to incredible orgasms that we both needed and craved from each other. Goddamn it.

When I arrived at the Beaumont estate, Bertrand told me to help Maxwell in the kitchen, so I headed there. I stepped into the room to see him and Bragnae standing across from each other with a counter in between them as they worked on what I assumed was a caviar appetizer. I’d been to enough of these fancy parties to recognize the pretentious delicacy all the nobles went nuts over.

“I’m here. What do you need me to do?”

“Drake! Oh, thank God!” Maxwell shouted. “Thanks for coming to help out.”

“Hey, Drake,” Bragnae said with a smile.

I gave her a side smirk and a quick nod, not wanting to make a big deal about it in front of Maxwell. I couldn’t trust myself around her now. Even if I smiled in her direction, I’d give myself away. I needed to get my head wrapped around the situation before I was ready to talk about it. No one could know until I talked to Liam.

I felt like an ass because I didn’t want her to feel like I changed my mind about her. Because I still very much cared for her. If given the choice of having Bragnae by my side or a bottle of cold water in a hot desert, I’d choose her every damn time. But, I failed as a best friend, and I needed to make that right despite my own happiness.

Maxwell typed something on his phone quickly before shoving it back in his pocket. “Bertrand said we have caterers for the rest of the food for tomorrow. Whew! Drake, why don’t you help me make the rest of these Jewels of the Sea as I’m calling them, and Bragnae, could you go help Bertrand with the cleaning?”

Dodged a bullet there. Even though I’d love to stand here and look at her, smelling her sweet perfume, it’s probably best she go somewhere else in the house.

“Sure thing!” She walked around the counter, and brushed her hand across my lower back as she left the kitchen. I hesitated, but watched her leave anyway. She had turned back and smiled at me before leaving the room.

I sighed and got back to work while Maxwell jabbered on like a monkey in a tree.

Later, I found myself arranging goddamn flowers in glass vases for the dining room. Me. Arranging flowers. I sighed. How the fuck do I get myself into these situations?

I heard Bertrand telling Bragnae to help me with the center pieces, and my heart skipped a beat. Goddamn it. I already missed her. It had been a few hours since I’d seen her around. Part of me wanted to pull her in close and never let go, but the other part of me wanted to keep my distance. Keeping her near would only hurt more in the long run. Fuck. I hated how complicated this got all of a sudden.

“Hey, Drake. I didn’t know you had a knack for arranging flowers like this.”

I kept my eyes on the vase in front of me as I responded. “Yeah, who knew? The things I do for you people.”

“Seems to me that you have a lot of hidden talents we all aren’t aware of. I wonder what else you can do.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her face tilted up to me with a bright smile. I had to look at her otherwise she’d suspect I was ignoring her.

So I did. Goddamn, she was pretty. I scoffed a laugh. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” Wait and see? When, idiot? You’re supposed to push her away, not give her little pieces of hope to cling to. I’m so bad at this.

“Well, I can’t wait.” She touched my arm. Her warmth sent a tingle down my spine. My heart beat faster and my breath quickened. All from one little touch. Jesus Christ.

“Lady Bragnae!” Bertrand shouted from across the room.

Startled, she whipped around to face him. “Yes?”

“Come here for a moment, please.”

Bragnae darted off to Bertrand, and I could breathe again. I needed a moment or two to myself. Now was my chance to sneak off. I quietly left the dining room and headed down the hall to the study. I shut the door behind me, and leaned against the wall. No sooner did I close my eyes did I hear the sound of high heels clicking down the hallway.

I sighed. Damn it. I opened the door as the footsteps approached to see Bragnae fill the door frame. She beamed as soon as she saw me.

“Hi! Can I come in?” She was incredibly enthusiastic, and too charming to deny. Shit.

“Of course.” I stepped aside and invited her in the study before closing the door behind her.

“Are you hiding out in here?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, this is perfect because I wanted to talk to you. First things first…” She said before reaching up to kiss me. No matter how much I tried to push her away, as soon as her lips hit mine, I couldn’t turn her down. I was an addict and her kisses were the drug. After a drawn out moment, she pulled back. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her. “Me too.” It was the sad truth I couldn’t deny.

She rested her hands on my chest as she continued. “I decided I’m going to tell Liam that I’m withdrawing from the Social Season.”

“Why?” I kept my hands on her hips because I couldn’t resist not touching her.

“Because I want to be with you, Drake. Last night was amazing. I woke up with a big smile on my face this morning, and it won’t go away. I think about you all the time, and I’m always searching the crowd for your face. I’m so happy when I’m with you. And finding out that you also cared about me was like a dream come true.”

Her words humbled me. But how could she feel so strongly for me when she had Liam? “I’m glad to hear that I make you happy. Last night was… incredible for me as well. But maybe you shouldn’t make this decision now. Liam really likes you. I know he wants to pick you as his bride.” I cringed at the thought.

“I know, Drake. And that’s why I have to tell him before his coronation, so he’s not humiliated in front of the entire court when I decline his proposal.”

She was really set on this, but she wasn’t being practical. “I have nothing to offer you, Bragnae.” I couldn’t help the sadness that fell over my face.

“Drake, believe it or not, I didn’t come here to be queen. Going through all of this made me realize that I’m not really cut out for the job anyway. I’m independent, impatient, and sarcastic. I’m not very diplomatic either. I will always say what’s on my mind, and I don’t want to screw up something big for the country because of who I am. I truly have no interest in it.” She paused. “When Maxwell invited me to Cordonia, I was looking for an adventure to reignite my life. And I said yes because I also wanted to fall in love.”

That word. I drew back slightly, stunned a bit if I was being honest. I swallowed as I focused more intently on her face. “And did you?” I didn’t know what I wanted her answer to be. I cared for her very deeply, but was it love? My feelings for her were more than I’ve ever felt for anyone else. I wasn’t sure it was love, but I knew it was more than a crush.

Love was deep. Love was a commitment. Love was special. I’d never been in love before. It was never something I saw happening for myself even though I hoped to someday. With my life dedicated to Liam, there wasn’t time for relationships. Or maybe I just didn’t care to engage in them. Just one night stands. Sometimes even dragging some of those out to three or four dates if the sex was good.

“I’ll let you know.” She smiled at me. “I have to tell him sometime this weekend while we’re still in Ramsford. I’m sure things will get busy for him once we head back to the palace.” She stood on her toes again, pulling me in for another kiss. “I’ll find you later. I have to go help Bertrand with something.”

Before I could say anything more, Bragnae scurried out of the room leaving me with my thoughts. I walked over to a chair and slumped down into it. This was worse now. She was going to throw away a life of luxury and security just to be with me. I still couldn’t fathom it. Why would she do such a thing?

I’m nobody. Liam was everything.

Of course I wanted to be with her, but it just couldn’t happen. I couldn’t let it happen. Liam deserved to be happy, and he cared about her. Who was I to stand in his way?

My heart ached with a miserable heaviness as I realized what I was going to have to do. If she couldn’t see it, then I’d just have to tell her myself. We couldn’t be together.

Later that evening I found myself on the terrace sipping on some whiskey looking out at the stars over the vineyard. It was a beautiful night. A slight cool breeze came in occasionally, and crickets chirped in the distance. Being outdoors always helped to clear my head.

The conversation I needed to have with Bragnae, however, was taking its toll on me in every way imaginable. It was all I thought about since this afternoon. I dreaded it – the conversation I’d have to have with her and the aftershocks of it all. Having to see her as queen on the arm of my best friend. I didn’t think I’d have the strength for it.

Maybe I’d move away. I’d done it before when I went to college. I could do it again. Once Liam had Bragnae, he wouldn’t need me anymore.

I heard the hinges of the door creak, and my gut told me it was Bragnae. Sure enough, the very same clicks of heels from earlier could be heard as she made her way over to me. I took a deep breath and sat my glass of whiskey down before I turned to her.

“Hey, Bennett.” I couldn’t hide the agony on my face. She picked up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong, Drake? Are you okay?” She affectionately ran a hand down my arm.

Ugh. I didn’t even deserve that. She would hate me for this. “You can’t tell Liam, Bennett.”

A look of confusion contorted her face. “Why not?”

“You care for Liam, right?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“And he cares for you. You two would be great together.”

Her expression transformed into frustration and anger. “Drake, did you not listen to anything I told you earlier?”

“I did.”

She threw her hands up. “And yet, you’re still pushing me away.”

I sighed and looked to the ground for support. “He needs you.”

Bragnae took a step forward maneuvering her head to lock eyes with me again. “Don’t you need me, too? Don’t you want me? I mean… don’t you want to be with me?”

Yes to all of that – God, yes. I hated doing this to her. The hurt and pain on her face was almost too much to bear. I had to be strong. I had to finish this before I faltered. “Liam needs you more.”

My own words felt like a knife to my heart. I watched her eyes fill with tears, and I wanted to die. I’m doing this to her. I’m such a fucking asshole. “Bragnae, I’m sorry.” I reached out to touch her, but she moved away.

“No! Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t even talk to me anymore. You are such a coward, Drake.” Tears streamed down her face as she turned to go back inside.

I moved quickly in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. “I just don’t want you to make a mistake. You’d be throwing everything away just to be with me. And you deserve the best, Bragnae.”

“No, Drake. I deserve to be happy, and to be happy with who I want to be with. But it’s clear I’ll never have that.” She shrugged out of my hands and ran inside.

Great. That couldn’t have gone worse. I blew out a frustrated breath, and walked over to the table that held my whiskey. I knew I’d need this tonight. I threw back the rest in one gulp. My grip tightened around the glass as I thought about how I just hurt Bragnae, the one woman I ever truly cared about. And now she didn’t even want to me to talk to her.

The sting of tears pricked my own eyes as I looked out across the vineyard. In an attempt to give Liam and Bragnae a happier and more fulfilled life, I gave away all that I had. Not only would I not have the girl of my dreams, but she wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

Angry with myself, I threw the empty glass far into the vineyard, losing sight of it in the night. What the fuck is wrong with me?

~

A week had gone by since I last spoke with Bragnae. It felt longer. The amount of pain that I carried with me was insurmountable. When the rest of the court showed up in Ramsford the following day, it was clear Bragnae had lost that extra pep in her step. Even as she sat next to Liam, she’d put a smile on when addressing him and the king and queen, but as she turned back to her plate, her face fell.

I tried to approach her, but she walked away from me. I wanted so badly to console her, but I knew my presence was only making her feel worse. So, I honored her wishes and kept my distance. I didn’t try to speak with her, but I couldn’t stay away completely. I had to see her. I had to make sure she was safe. I wanted her to smile like she did before, but every time she did, I could tell it was forced.

Seven days had passed and not one look from her. Not one smile in my direction. Not even a middle finger from her telling me to fuck off. Hell, I’d take that just to know she still acknowledged my existence. Nothing. She had cut me out. I couldn’t blame her. I knew she hated me. I hated me, too.

I just wanted to talk to her again. It was such a shock to go from having her actively in my life every day to having nothing. I missed her. I missed the way she laughed at my sarcastic jokes. I missed the way she never let me get away with anything. I missed her touch.

I would think of the way she kissed me, and let the thought of it whisk me off to sleep at night hoping for pleasant dreams of her. That never worked. Even my subconscious was punishing me for my actions with restless sleep and nightmares of losing Bragnae.

In that time, however, I found solace in the fact that I realized I was in love with her. Having her cut me out like that forced my head out of my ass long enough to recognize how deeply I cared for her. I was happy to know I was capable of falling in love with someone, but I berated myself for figuring it out too late.

Given the chance now, I would never give her up like I did back in Ramsford. She had opened her heart to me that day, and instead of embracing her affections, I stomped on it telling her what I thought she wanted and needed. I was a real dick.

I wish I could change the past or even apologize now to try to win her back, but she wouldn’t even allow me near her without finding some excuse to leave the room. I screwed up big time. And now I have to live with it. I only wish that she would find the happiness she deserves.

I straightened my tie, and looked myself over in the mirror. I put on a suit tonight for Liam’s coronation. It’d been a long time since I wore a suit, but tonight meant something to my best friend, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.

I considered not going at all. I wasn’t sure how I could handle seeing Bragnae accept his proposal. She was still in the running for his hand. The press would have announced it if she withdrew her standing. So, that must have meant that she considered being with Liam after all. Good for her.

After everything I’d been through to get to this moment, I decided I had to show up and support Liam no matter how uncomfortable I was.

I made my way to the ballroom. There was still an hour until King Constantine turned the throne over to his son. I dragged out the night as long as I could, but it was time to make my appearance. As I walked down the hallway, a door opened to my right, and a shimmering gold dress got my eye. I turned to see Bragnae standing there frozen in place.

She was a sight to be seen. The golden sparkles in her dress brought out the amber in her eyes, and her silky hair was pulled into an elegant side-do. She looked magnificent.

“Hi, Bragnae,” I said softly. My nerves got the best of my voice, or perhaps I spoke that way out of fear that I’d spook her. I just wanted to spend five minutes with her without her running away.

She stood there staring at me, not saying a word. Her eyes scanned the length of my body undoubtedly surprised to see me in a suit. She pursed her lips together and straightened her posture keeping her walls up for protection. It was understandable, but it hurt that she felt she needed protection from me. But at least she hadn’t run off yet. These 30 seconds had been the longest I’d spent face to face with her since Ramsford. I’d happily take it.

“You look very nice,” I said, trying to break the ice.

Her mouth opened as if she was going to speak, but she blew out a ragged breath instead. Her expression left its resolute phase and became one of torment. It was hard to see her like that knowing it was my fault.

I took a small step towards her. “Bragnae, I’m sorry.”

I barely got the words out before she turned on her heel and walked towards the ballroom. My head hung in defeat as I stood in her jilted wake. I should have told her I loved her, but it probably wouldn’t have been received well. I just wanted her to know.

Twenty minutes and a glass of whiskey later, I was hanging out in the corner of the ballroom watching the crowd gather in anticipation of not only seeing a new king crowned, but to find out which of the suitors Liam was going to choose. Madeleine, Olivia and Bragnae were considered the top contenders.

The king and queen obviously favored Madeleine. The press adored both Olivia and Bragnae, but the people seemed to rally more around Bragnae. All of those factors including the recommendation of the Royal Council, and of course, Liam’s favorite were all taken into consideration for who the next queen would be.

I hadn’t seen much of Liam over the past week. He had been extremely busy getting ready for tonight, but when we did have the chance to hang out, he told me Bragnae was the one. At that point, he’d only had Constantine and Regina to convince. Everyone else supported his decision to choose her.

Now, it was just a matter of time. As the clock ran down, the crowd started to form around the stage. I moved closer too, spotting Hana. As I sidled up next to her, I noticed she was crying.

“Hana, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She sniffled and wiped her eyes before turning to me. “Yes, I’ll be fine. I just found out Bragnae’s leaving Cordonia tonight.”

“What? Why? Had she been planning this?”

Hana shook her head. “No, she made the decision just a little bit ago.”

“Does Liam know this?” I scanned the room for Liam, but didn’t see him.

“Yes. She told him after they danced. Now, she’s in her room packing. I’m just so sad she’s leaving, Drake.”

“Fuck.”

Hana winced. “Drake.”

“I’m sorry, Hana,” I said, patting her shoulder. “I have to go find Liam.” Before she could reply, I was working my way through the crowd to find him. I had to get to him fast to explain everything, so I could stop Bragnae before she left. This had to be done right.

I’m sure Liam was crushed, and he had to know I was the reason. I spotted Bastien standing near an entrance to a private room for the royals in the far corner. I ran over to him immediately.

“Bastien, do you know where Liam is? I need to speak with him.”

“He’s taking a moment to himself before the coronation, Drake. It will have to wait.”

I stepped closer to him. “Please, Bastien. It’s important. I wouldn’t bug you if it wasn’t.”

Bastien looked around the room and sighed. “Okay, but make it quick.” He turned to unlock the door behind him to let me in.

“Thanks, Bastien. I owe you.” I clapped him on the shoulder, and made my way inside the private suite.

“Liam?” I called out to him as I navigated through a small hallway.

“Drake? Is that you?”

I turned the corner to see Liam dressed in his royal regalia slouched in a chair at a table with a drink in his hand. He looked depressed as fuck. God, what a mess I’ve made.

“Liam, I need to talk to you.” I pulled out the chair next to him and took a seat.

“I’m not in the mood, Drake.” He took a sip of his drink. Liam favored scotch. I’m sure that’s what filled his glass.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I know why you’re upset, and it’s because of me.”

He turned to look at me with a bewildered expression. “What are you talking about?”

“Bragnae withdrew from consideration tonight, right?”

He took another sip. “Yeah, she did. Now, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. I have twenty minutes before I’m crowned fucking king of this country, and the woman I was going to ask to marry me just told me she’s moving back home. I can’t believe it, Drake. I didn’t see this coming.” Liam shook his head, and took another swig of his scotch. After another moment he returned his attention to me. “Why is it your fault?”

My stomach rolled at the thought of hurting my friend. But time was of the essence, and I needed to tell him the truth. “I’m in love with her, Liam.”

He straightened in his chair. “Say again?”

“I’m in love with Bragnae. I’ve had feelings for her for some time, and about a week ago, I found out that she reciprocated those feelings.” I proceeded with caution despite the anger slowly consuming his eyes. “I know this is hard to hear, and I’m sorry that I have to tell you all of this. She wanted to be with me, but I told her she needed to be with you instead. I knew she cared about you, and I knew how much you cared about her. I thought I was making the right decision by insisting that she stay in the running as a suitor.”

“What the fuck, Drake?” Liam said with a raised voice, slamming his glass on the table.

“I know. I’m a monumental prick.”

Liam abruptly stood from the table, and walked a few paces away, keeping his back to me.

“Liam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want this to affect your coronation, but I just found out that she’s planning to leave, so—.”

He whipped around to face me, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Did you kiss her?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t going to lie to him.

Liam glared at me. His breathing became heavy. “Did you fuck her?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but hesitated trying to think of the best way to respond. “Sort of.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He was growing irate by the second.

I sighed. The clock was ticking. I had no idea how fast Bragnae would pack, and I needed to get this conversation over with. “Look, I’m not going to get into those details with you. Let’s just say I’ve never been inside her, and we’ll leave it at that.” God, I hope he accepts that answer. I’m completely at his mercy right now.

He crossed his arms over his chest, still burning holes through me with his piercing blue eyes. “You asshole.”

I dropped my eyes to the table. “I know. I’m the biggest asshole on the planet.” I stood to face him properly. “I know you must hate me right now, and that’s okay. I should have been more honest with you about how I felt about her, but I didn’t want to stand in the way of your happiness. I thought I’d just get over it. I knew you liked her, and I’d do anything for you including push my feelings for her to the side. You’re my brother.” I swallowed in an attempt to clear the lump of emotion forming in my throat.

“I tried to bury my feelings for her. I was prepared to be unhappy for the rest of my life knowing you’d have the girl of your dreams, but then…Bragnae told me how she felt about me, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’m in love with her, Liam. And because I pushed her away and told her to be with you, she has since cut me out. She won’t even talk to me.” Tears started to form in my eyes for God’s sake. “And now she’s packing to go back to New York. I need to stop her, and tell her I love her.”

“How are you going to do that if she won’t speak to you?” His demeanor was calmer now. Perhaps because I was showing sappy emotion for the first time since he’d known me made him see this was a serious situation. This gave me hope.

“She can at least listen, right? I’ve gotta try, Liam.” I took a deep breath. “But I can’t do that unless I have your blessing. I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s important to me.”

Liam lowered his gaze to the ground, and worked his jaw as he considered my request. He was silent for a long moment before he looked at me again. “She and I never did anything more than kiss. I wanted to, believe me. I even tried to lead her in that direction a couple times, but she always declined.”

That’s… a relief. But why was he telling me this?

“She’s the first girl that’s ever told me no. I told myself she just wanted to wait until she was officially mine, but it wasn’t that at all.” He smirked as he looked me over. “But she was willing to do… whatever it was that you two did together with you, so she must care about you.”

“Liam, I’m so—.”

He held up his hand, taking another moment of contemplative silence. He already had a commanding presence, and he wasn’t even king yet. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never once heard you speak of a woman this way. Nor have I seen you get so emotional over one.” He looked me over and smirked. “Cry baby.”

I grinned at his teasing remark.

He took a step closer to me. “You have my blessing.”

I closed my eyes, blowing out a breath of relief. “Thank you, Liam.”

“You’re welcome. Now, go get your girl.”

“Right.” I spun around to leave the room almost losing my footing.

“And Drake?” Liam called as I was about to round the corner. I turned to face him again. “Good luck.”

A smile transformed my lips. “Thanks. Oh, and I’m really sorry I’m going to have miss your coronation. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yes, you will,” he replied light-heartedly. “Get the hell outta here already, would ya?”

“I’m gone!” And with that, I turned tail and left the royal suite.

I pushed my way through the growing crowds until I made my way out of the ballroom. Thankfully everyone was corralled there, which made the hallways clear. I could run without any interference.

And run I did. And I didn’t stop until I got to Bragnae’s room. Taking only a second to catch my breath, I knocked on her door. And waited. I knocked again. My mind raced through all the possible locations she could be if she wasn’t in her room. I had to have a plan B, C, D… whatever it took. I needed to find her before she left. If I had to stand on the fucking runway itself, I would.

I knocked a third time. “Bragnae? Are you in there? Please open up if you are.” I laid my head against her door. Fuck. Okay. New plan. I’d have check the front of the palace to see if the guards knew if she’d left yet.

As I turned to leave, I was stunned to see Bragnae standing in my path. She had changed out of her gown and into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Her hand rested on the extended handle of her suitcase.

“I forgot my phone charger.” It was so good to hear her sweet voice spoken in my direction again.

“Don’t leave, Bragnae. Please.”

She blew out an exasperated breath as she walked toward me – rather, she walked toward her door. I stepped out of her way as she unlocked it and opened the door. This was a good idea. At least we’d have some privacy and I could tell her how I felt. She tried to shut the door on me, but I pushed it open anyway, and followed her in.

I shut the door behind me and stood in front of it. I watched her walk over to her bed side table and pull a charger cord out of the drawer. She shoved it in her purse, and cocked her hip when she saw I was blocking her path.

“What are you doing? I have a flight to catch. Can you please move?” She was annoyed, and tried to hide the emotion in her voice, but I heard it anyway.

“No.” She sighed at my response. “Not until you hear what I have to say.”

She relented, exhaling a deep breath. “Fine. Make it quick.”

“Put your bags down.” She started to protest as I walked towards her, taking the purse off her shoulder and tossing it on the bed. I yanked the suitcase handle out of her grip and rolled it away. “I want your attention on me, not your flight.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest putting up the last piece of armor she had left. “What do you want, Drake?” Her voice shook a little, and definitely lacked the fiery zing it had just a few minutes ago.

I put my hands on the sides of her arms stepping closer to her. She turned her head slightly, but didn’t move out of my touch. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for being an idiot. For denying your affections and making you feel unwanted. And for any pain or hurt I caused you.” I tilted my head to the side to catch her eye. “I was wrong. And every day since then I’ve regretted my words.” Goddamn these emotions! The lump in my throat returned as I continued.

“Not having you in my life over this past week has been torture. I missed your smile, the way you laugh. I wasn’t happy at all because I knew you weren’t. You were right, Bragnae. You do deserve to be happy, and I want you to have that no matter what. If you need to leave Cordonia to be happy again, then I won’t stop you. But you have to know something first.” I took a deep breath, and poured all of my energy and feelings into my words. “I love you, Bragnae Bennett.”

Her mouth fell open as she inhaled a sharp breath. “You do?” She barely squeaked out the two words.

I smiled. “Yeah, I do. I have for some time, but I didn’t realize it until after I’d hurt you. And I’m sorry for that.” I took another step closer, lightly tugging on her arms to loosen them, so I could hold her hands. “Bragnae, you’re an amazing woman. I love everything about you, and I know I can’t live without you in my life. I’m not strong enough. And if you decide to stay in Cordonia, I’ll do whatever I have to do to show you how much I care about you.”

Bragnae took in another breath. “Say it again.”

I paused, giving her a questioning look. “Which part?”

“That you love me.”

I grinned, standing so close to her our chests touched. She had to tilt her head back just to look at me. “Bragnae Bennett, I love you. And I will always love you.”

Her eyes glistened with emotion. “I love you, too, Drake.”

My body filled with goosebumps hearing her reply. I smiled, stroking the side of her face with my finger. “Your love means the world to me. And I will never take it for granted.”

“Good.” She ran her hands up my chest, forming a loop at the base of my neck. “So, kiss me already.”

“Yes, ma’am.” We met in the middle as our lips connected in one of the most wonderful and fulfilling kisses two people could share. As the kiss deepened, I lifted her up and walked over to the bed to sit down with Bragnae in my lap. “This brings back pleasant memories.” I was getting turned on just thinking about it.

She giggled. “And we’ll make plenty more.”

“So, does that mean you’re going to stay in Cordonia?”

Bragnae outlined my jaw with her finger. “There’s no way I’m leaving you.”

“Good answer.” Our lips came together again as we both fell back on the bed getting lost in our love and desire for each other.

#TRR Dirty Mind Fanfic #drake walker #drake x bragnae #trr fanfic #trr drake

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

Drake's Diary ch.32 -The Safe House

They Royal Romance canon from Drake's POV

Drake x MC (Emma Rose)

Words: 5872

Warnings: NSFW

Master List (Catch up here)

 Well, friends, we have reached the end of the Drake's Diary series. Someday I may come back to it, but for now I need to let it go and work on other projects. Plus, we'll all be seeing Drake and crew again soon in The Royal Heir! Thank you to everyone who read, commented, and reblogged, your support is what kept me going, and seriously means the world to me. Love you all!!!

Drake and Emma crash to the ballroom floor, the force of his body knocking the wind out of her. He feels himself crushing her, and groans as he rolls to his side, clutching his shoulder. When he pulls his hand away, it’s shiny and wet with blood. The color drains from his face.

  Oh my god, I…I’ve been shot! Oh my god, Emma! Where’s Emma??

Emma crawls immediately to his side, and he breathes in relief until he sees the front of her dress smeared with blood.

He gaped at her, his eyes watering. “Emma! You’ve been shot! Are you okay??”

“No! Drake, you’ve been shot. You saved my life!” She threw her arms around him and he grimaced with the pressure of her body on his arm.

I what? What is she…she almost died! He was aiming right for her!

“Drake!” Bastien runs up to them, sidearm drawn. He helps Emma to her feet first, then Drake. Drake wobbles on his feet, so Emma steps forward to steady him.

Bastien turns to her. “Emma! There’s a servant’s entrance to the left. Help Drake and stay low. I’ll cover you!”

She nodded. “Come on, Drake. Let’s get you out of here.”

Drake vehemently shook his head. We need to get Liam. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Emma, get him out of here! Now!” Bastien yelled.

But Savannah and Bartie….

She holds onto Drake, carefully keeping pressure on his injured arm, and starts to run. Bastien points to an SUV waiting at the end of the drive. “Hurry!” Bastien ducks into the car and punches an address into the console. “This’ll take you to a safe house. There are first aid supplies there. Patch Drake up as soon as you arrive. He should be fine, as long as you get the bleeding under control.”

Drake didn’t miss the momentary look of panic cross her features. “Me? You aren’t coming with us?”

“My king needs me. I wish I could do more for you. Don’t trust anyone right now. The safe house is the only place you’ll be secure.”

Bastien turns and runs back into the palace, while Emma turns to help Drake into the car. His eyelids droop, and his grip on her is weak.

Just…so tired. So, so tired. I feel like I ran a marathon…except…waaaay worse.

“Drake…” She murmured. He barely registered her hand on his cheek.

She almost died. My Rose almost died…If I hadn’t been standing next to her…if it was someone else…what would have happened to her…?

A short drive later, Emma helps a bleeding, but conscious, Drake out of the getaway car and into a secluded cabin. The cabin’s lit only by what appear to be emergency lights. He grunts as she lowers him onto the couch, and he sags into it with a heavy sigh. He closes his eyes while Emma attempts to turn on the lights, but nothing happens.

“huh.”

Figures. “Maybe the generator’s busted. They must have an emergency backup, since it’s a safe house.”

“Lights are the least of our problems right now. We’ve got to stop the bleeding. Where’s that first-aid kit?”

As she begins fumbling around in the dark, Drake releases a pained gasp. He can hear her scurrying around the room, then the bathroom, then moving to the kitchen, until at last. “Found it!”

Fuck this hurts. But not as much as if she…

His face is contorted into a pained grimace, as she reappears next to him.

“Man, am I happy to see that thing.” He told her, forcing a weak smile.

She frowned. “Drake, you took a bullet for me.”

Oh boy

“Aw, come on, Rose. Don’t sound so impressed. You’re scaring me.”

Does it really look as bad as it feels?

“Drake…I just want you to know how much it means to me that you’d do something like that.”

Well that answers that. “Okay, now I know it must be looking grim.”

Emma scoffed. “Hey, can’t a girl be grateful and sincere once in a while? You could just say you’re welcome.”

“You’re…welcome.” He grumbled, a light blush reaching his pale face.

She nodded in satisfaction. “Now, I’m going to do whatever I can for you until help arrives.” She kneels beside him and helps peel off his bloodied jacket and shirt. His muscles flex under the pressure of her hand.

I love her touch…but…maybe a bit lighter…just for now…

“Okay, first I better clean it up…I just need to…do that…” She mumbles to herself, then grabs an alcohol swab and tears it open. “This’ll probably sting a bit.”

She applies the swab to Drake’s skin, gently dabbing at the edges of the wound. He grimaces, muscles tensing and breaths coming quicker.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…

“Drake!”

“Sorry. I…I’m fine.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…

She takes hold of his good hand, squeezing for reassurance. He squeezes back, realizing his own grip is weak in return. She twines her fingers through his, running the swab over his skin as carefully as possible.

Okay, that’s…progress…definitely. It still amazes me how gentle she can be.

After a moment, he begins to relax. His breath comes easier. She pulls out a clean swab and resumes cleaning. Drake draws in a sharp breath. Okay, fresh alcohol, ouch

“You alright?”

Ah screw it.  “It’s no picnic, that’s for sure. I could use a distraction.”

She looked at him teasingly. “A distraction, huh? If you wanted me to take your shirt off, you should’ve just asked.”

She caresses the muscles of his chest, his lips curling in a mischievous smile as she continues. “Not that I mind seeing you without your shirt, but getting shot creates a few problems for us, don’t you think?”

“Heh. Well, now I just feel ridiculous that I went through all this blood loss and all.”

“You’d better.”

He tries to laugh, but it doesn’t work out. Instead, Drake’s face contorts into a pained scowl again, and his eyes drift toward the first-aid kit. “Is there any whiskey in there? If I’ve ever needed a glass, it’s now.”

An entire bottle would be useful.

“Sorry, I don’t think they made this first-aid kit with you in mind. There’s only rubbing alcohol.” She waves the swab in front of him.

Drake’s lips curl in a weak smile. “Damn. I should talk to Liam about that. If I ever get the chance…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. Liam. I hope Liam made it out. I hope Bastien got to him in time. Thank god I was next to Emma.

Once the wound is clean, she gently runs a hand over Drake’s exposed skin. “How does it feel?”

He shivers lightly. “Rose, when you touch me like that, it makes me forget I even got shot.”

She brushes the skin around the wound with her lips, leaving a light trail of kisses in her wake. She draws back and grabs a roll of gauze from the first-aid kit. Starting at his shoulder, she begins to wrap a bandage around his torso. “You remember the last time I patched you up after a fight?”

He glowered. “How could I forget? I’ve got a couple regrets in life, but punching Tariq after what I saw that night…not one of ‘em.”

“We thought our problems were big back then.” She joked.

“Rose…taking a hit for you was as worth it then as it was tonight.” He suddenly reaches out, cupping her face tenderly with one hand. “I keep thinking back to that moment…if you’d been hurt…”

She pauses a moment and meets Drake’s serious gaze. “But I wasn’t. Thanks to you.”

“I need you to know that I’ll always be there to protect you.” He said firmly.

“You’ve more than proven that.” She finishes wrapping the gauze, tucking the end in and securing it with tape. “How’s that?”

Not too bad. I’m actually starting to feel human again.

“Good as new. You did great.”

She nodded, satisfied. “Looks like the bleeding’s stopped. We’ll have to keep an eye on it to make sure.”

Drake reaches for her hand. When he grasps it, his strength is already returning. “Hey, there’s something I need to say.”

“What is it?” She asks curiously.

He takes a deep breath. “Tonight, for a split second, I was terrified.”

Her eyes widened. “You were shot! Anyone would be scared…”

“No, not then.” He cut her off. “When I saw the gun aimed at you, and I thought…I thought I might lose you.”

It was the single worst moment of my life.

“Drake, I love you.”

“I love you too, Rose. I was a fool to try to fight it.”

“Yeah, but you’re my fool.” She kisses him lightly on the cheek.

It’s now. The perfect time is now. I’ve wasted way too much time when it comes to her. To us.

Drake reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small satin-covered box. He meets her eyes with a vulnerability he’s never felt before. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but I kept talking myself out of it. Now…After what happened tonight…knowing you could’ve been shot or…Well, it all made me realize that life’s too short to waste any more time. We should make the most of the time we have while we’ve got the chance.”

Her hands flew to cover her mouth. “Drake…”

He opens the box to reveal the beautiful vintage ring.

“Rose…Emma…will you marry me?” His heart pounded, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

Still terrifying.

She gasped. “Drake…Yes!!! Oh my god, Yes!!!!  She leans in, smiling widely, and plants a long, tender kiss on Drake’s lips. His good arm comes up around her, solid and warm. Eventually they part.

She said yes!

He licked his lips. “Mmm…that was good, but I think I can do better.” He gently lifts her chin and, eyes locked with hers, and brings her lips back to his. Time seems to slow when their lips come together, gently at first, then more fervent. She responds, her hands exploring his exposed chest. Finally, they part.

She said yes!

“I almost don’t believe this is happening.” He breathed.

She smiles and plants a peck on his forehead. “Believe it, Drake Walker. It’s real.”

“Here…” He pulls the ring out of the box and carefully slides it onto her finger, enjoying the sparkle of the stone even in the dim light. “I hope it’s okay. It’s an heirloom.”

She said yes!!!!!!!!!

“It’s gorgeous. Whose was it?”

“My grandmother’s.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping she loves it as much as his grandmother did.

“Wow, Drake…I’ll cherish it.” She squeezes Drake’s hand and rests her head against his good shoulder. “It’s getting pretty late though, and you’re probably exhausted. I should go sleep in the other room so that you can get some rest. We’ll both need our strength for whatever tomorrow brings.”

No, no, you can’t leave…I need you.

“Stay out here with me awhile. Like I said, we should make the most of the time we have while we’ve got the chance.”

“Well, when you put it that way…I definitely can’t resist you.” She grins and they both settle back against the cushions. “You do realize what this means, right? Us getting married?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get a new suit for the wedding.”

She laughed. “No! I mean, yes, you’d better. But besides that. Now that I’m a duchess, when we get married…you’ll be a duke.”

He froze. “I’ll…what?”

“Duke Drake Walker of Valtoria…Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Horror slowly dawns on him. Oh my god. A duke. I’ll be a noble. Me. The most common of all commoners. How the hell did I get here??

Emma quickly backtracked, seeing the panic on his face. “You don’t have to call yourself a duke if you don’t want to.”

He barely registered her voice. A fucking Duke!

“Easy there, I can’t bandage a heart attack. It’s just a title.” She said nervously.

He waved a hand dismissively. “The title I can ignore. It’s the rest of it I’m worried about. I’m going to have to start acting all lordly now, aren’t I?”

Uugghh if I turn into Neville, I swear to god…

She smirked. “Well…I know you better than that.”

“That’s supposed to be my line.” He grinned.

“Well, it was a good one. And it’s true. If there’s anyone who can end up a duke and stay the same loyal, snarky, down to earth man that I want to marry…it’s you.”

“That was a decent compliment until you got to snarky.”

“It’s an important part of the Drake Walker M.O. Right up there with avoiding formal events at any cost.”

He smiles softly. “…Guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Look on the bright side. Now you’ll always have someone to ditch parties with. Because I’ll always be right there with you.”

His hand brushes against hers, and she laces her fingers through his.

“There’s no one I’d rather sneak out of ballrooms with.”

If there are any ballrooms to go back to.

His smile fades in the candlelight. “But we’ve gotta make it back to court before any of that matters.”

“Do you think everyone’s alright?” She asked worriedly.

“I…I hope so, Rose. I would’ve gone back for them, but…”  Someone made me leave.

“Hey, how many times do you want to get shot in one night? We were lucky we made it out of there.” She reminds him.

Drake’s expression is still worried, but he gives a small, reluctant nod. “Liam had his guards with him, and he can handle himself in a fight.”

“Yeah…you know, Hana probably knows some self-defense too.”

He laughs. “At this point, she could tell us she’s a wushu champion and I’d believe her.”

Emma bit her lip. “But what about Maxwell?”

His eyebrows shot up. “That man has more lives than an alley of cats. You’ve seen him move on the dancefloor. Hell, you’ve seen him walk. I don’t think anyone could hit him if they tried. They’ll be alright, Rose. I have to believe that.”

“Drake, I’d feel better if you held me.”

“I can manage that.” He said softly, looking into her worried face. She’s so incredible. How did I get this lucky? But I almost lost her…for good.

She scoots closer to him on the couch, and he puts his good arm around her shoulders. Drake stares at her, his eyes lingering on hers.

“What is it?” She asks softly.

“You could’ve died today, Rose. I could’ve lost you.”

“But I’m here…thanks to you.”

“I was able to protect you…this time. Next time…we might not be so lucky. But whatever happens, whatever comes next…At least we have tonight.” There’s a hint of heat in his voice, and as he smiles at her, his gaze strays to her lips. He reaches up to brush his thumb across her lips, and then they come together in a kiss that leaves them both breathless. He slides his hand up to cup the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer.

“I have a better idea…” She turns and slides onto his lap, straddling him.

“Oh! I think I can work with that…” He kisses her again as she holds him close. She runs her hands down his chest, being careful not to jostle the bandages. Drake slides his hands up her sides, bunching up the fabric that covers her skin.

“I want to keep going.” She whispers

“And I want you, Rose.” All my life.

She shifts slightly in his lap, drawing a groan from his mouth as she leans in for another kiss. He goes to lower her onto the couch…then winces as he jostles his wounded arm.

“Will you…be okay?”

He looks at his bandaged shoulder, then back up at Emma. The heat in her gaze sends a jolt of warmth through his body. “I’ve already wasted too much time, Rose.” He gently touches her cheek. “I want to make the most out of every second we’ve got. A scratch isn’t gonna get in the way of that.”

“Drake…”

He silences any further protests with a kiss, tugging at her lower lip. He reaches for the fastening of her clothes. He helps her out of her them, nearly tearing one of the seams in his haste, his bare chest is warm against her skin as she leans into the embrace. He lets his hand slip down past her waist, sliding under the waistband of her underwear…

“Not yet…” She unbuckles his belt and helps him out of his jeans.

He gives her a crooked smile. “Better?”

“Oh yes.”

He looks at her, his eyes dark with desire. “Then come here.”

He pulls her back onto the couch and she braces herself against the cushions as she straddles him again, slowly sinking down the hard length of his cock. He kisses her, and a moan escapes her as she begins to move her hips in time with his. Drake couldn’t stop touching her, running his hands all along her body, from her hair, to her neck, to her collarbone, taking one nipple into his mouth and pulling gently with his teeth.

She cried out and the sound was music to his ears. I can’t believe I waited so long to feel her like this. Fuck, she feels so good…

“Rose!” He gripped her hips, speeding up their pace as he pounded inside of her silkiness, completely consumed by her body.

“Drake…” She gasped, keeping up with every thrust, her head thrown back, her breasts bouncing just for him in ecstasy. He felt a tightening in his balls and knew he was close. He reached between them and began stroking her clit with his thumb, circling and rubbing her hard nub. A moment later her walls were squeezing him as she screamed his name while Cumming. His name upon her lips while she came was enough to send him over the edge and he made a guttural growl as he exploded inside her, emptying every last drop of his seed deep inside her belly, the rest of the world fading away in the aftermath of their intimate bliss.

After a thousand kisses and their breathing slowed, they lie curled up side by side.

“That was worth staying up for.” She teased.

“Glad I could make it worth your time.”

She nudged him playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Drake leans over and takes her left hand. Her ring catches the candlelight as he places a gentle kiss on her wrist. “Part of me still can’t believe you said yes.”

“Part of me still can’t believe you asked.” She laughed. “I guess some dreams really do come true.”

“You’re living proof, Rose.” My dreams certainly did.

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, safe and warm in the sanctuary they’ve found. The next morning, they wake to the sound of knocking on the main door to the safe house. When Emma opens the door, there’s Liam, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand standing on the other side. Maxwell holds Chance in his arms.

“Oh my god, you’re okay! You’re all okay!” Emma shrieks, rushing forward and pulling everyone into a hug. After a long moment, she pulls away.

“I am…so pleased to see you in good health.” Bertrand said, smiling between them.

She stands aside, allowing the others to file into the safe house. “Seeing you all safe…I…feel like I can finally breathe again! I was so worried.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Hana agreed.

“Not knowing was…awful.” Maxwell said sadly.

Okay, none of this sadness. “You know, doctor usually prescribe peace and quiet to shooting victims. Hard to rest when everyone’s making such a racket.”

Liam rushes to Drake’s side and kneels beside the couch. “Hey, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to be a hero?”

“Heh. Not sure anyone thought they needed to.”

“Wait, so how did you all make it out of the palace?” Emma asked.

Hana spoke. “After Maxwell and I were separated from you in the crowd, we tried to get back to you, but the palace security wouldn’t let us go back in.”

“They said their orders were to clear the room…not many people were crazy enough to be trying to get back in.”

Emma nodded in understanding. “I’m just glad you’re both safe. And you, Liam?”

“My security detail held off the attackers until Bastien was able to get me out of the ballroom. Once the assassins saw that I was out of their reach, they fled. Clearly, you and I were the targets.” Liam’s fists curled into balls at his sides.

“And you, Bertrand?”

“It was utter chaos, but luckily, I managed to usher a few others to safety as I escaped.”

“Well…I made a pit stop on the way out to get this little guy, I couldn’t leave him in the palace all alone.” Maxwell said sheepishly.

Emma just shook her head. “Maxwell, I’m not sure if I should hug you or slap you. That was so dangerous, but I’m so happy to see this furry face.”

Guess now I have a therapy dog. Awesome.

Maxwell sets Chance down and he rushes over to Emma, his entire body wriggling with glee. She bends down to hug him and give him a scratch behind the ears. “You’re my good boy.” She pats Chance on the head and stands. “So what happened then, once everyone was clear?”

“We regrouped and went to another safehouse. My security forces escorted us here once we were sure that our presence wouldn’t put you in further danger.”

Emma nodded, glancing over at Drake, who was still on edge. “Liam, did…anyone get hurt? What about Savannah and the baby?”

Drake drew in a sharp breath. She’s asking for me. She knew to ask. She cares as much as I do. I don’t want to wait to get married. Hell, I’d marry her this second.

“There were injuries, but no one was killed.” Liam now looks at Drake, whose expression is one of restrained hope. “Savannah and Bartie were among the first to escape. They’re safe and staying in the city.”

Drake blew out his breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding so deeply.

“For what it’s worth, I saw to their well-being personally.” Bertrand chimed in. “Savannah wanted to come, but she decided it was best to keep Bartie close to support services, just in case.”

Drake ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I was…god, I couldn’t even let myself think about…”

“Drake, it’s okay. They’re okay.” Emma soothed.

“If there’s anything good to be said about last night, it’s that no lives were lost.” Liam informed. “Unfortunately, some people were caught in the crossfire and sustained serious injuries. Lady Kiara was caught by a knife, though I’m assured there will be no permanent damage…And Emma, your former press secretary was also shot.”

Emma’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Justin?”

“He and Kiara are both in the hospital now, receiving the best care Cordonia has to offer. Bastien was also wounded helping me escape. His leg may never be the same, but he should still be able to walk.”

“Bastien…” Drake said sadly to himself. If only he’d come with us last night…but I know he has duties. Still…I can’t believe he was injured. He’s always been so…invincible.

“I still can’t wrap my mind around how something so horrible could happen…” Hana gloomed.

“Yeah…who do you think could be behind it?” Maxwell asked.

Liam thought a moment. “Cordonia has its fair share of enemies, but it’s pointless to speculate and worry about it now. Bastien will have more information when we return to the palace.”

“And when’s that going to be?” I can’t wait to get out of here, maybe have some normalcy in my life…in all our lives. See Sav and Bartie with my own eyes.

Liam gave a half smile. “My guards and the police are still securing the palace. It’ll be an active crime scene until they’re done. They’ll call when they are certain the palace is safe, and that all evidence has been collected.”

Bertrand agreed. “At which point, we’ll return to face a press and a country that both want answers. Rightfully so, I’d say. Emma, as the new Duchess of Valtoria, there will be many who will be looking to you for answers.”

“Me? I’ll personally make sure every single citizen feels safe. Whatever it takes.” She said firmly.

That’s my girl. Handles everything thrown her way with grace.

Bertrand smiled at her. “Your enthusiasm is admirable. It’s exactly what the people need to see. Just know that this is the sort of event that shakes a populace to its core.”

“People are really afraid right now.”

“Yes, they fear for the monarchy. As you know, this isn’t the first royal assassination attempt.”

Drake glared at Bertrand. “They should have faith in Liam. I know I do.”

Liam held up his hand to stop them. “No, Bertrand is right. I need to earn their trust.”

“In the meantime, it would do us all good to recuperate while we wait for the all-clear to return to the palace.”

Alright. I won’t argue there. “I’m not moving from this couch until I have to.”

“Why is it so dark in here?” Hana asked, truly looking around the space for the first time.

“I think the generator’s busted. Only the emergency lights came on when we got here.” Drake informed.

Maxwell ran back to the door. “I’ll go see if can find it. I don’t know if I can sit still right now, anyway.”

“You want some company? None of us should be alone right now.” Emma suggested.

Drake rose an eyebrow.

“That’d be nice. Plus, I’m not sure I know how to fix generator.” Maxwell admitted.

And there it is. I bet Emma actually fixes it. I’d even bet money on it. Drake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out of his mouth before everyone looked at him.

Oops.

“What? I’m just picturing Maxwell fixing the generator. It’s a good thought.” And also hilarious.

Hana rolled her eyes. “Before you go, I brought you a change of clothes. Something a bit more discreet.”

Emma smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Hana. If anyone knows my size and style by now, it’s you”

Emma headed to a room to change, coming back in a simple black dress.

“You look lovely.” Hana told her.

She does but…a dress? What is with these people? We’re in the woods…in a safehouse…I’ll never understand nobles. Even when I become one, I think they’ll still be a mystery.

As Maxwell and Emma went outside, Hana muttered something about brownies and went for the kitchen. Liam saunters over to Drake.

“Hey Liam.”

“I can’t believe you were shot, Drake. I feel awful for this.”

“Liam…really, it’s not big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal! And the reason…I saw you jump in front of Emma. You saved her life, Drake. And I…” Liam’s eyes welled with tears. “I couldn’t imagine losing either one of you. Without you…Emma wouldn’t be here. You did that. And honestly….” He hung his head in what looked like shame.

“If I’m being honest Drake…I wouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t have jumped in front of her like that.”

“You’re a King, Liam. Of course, you wouldn’t. Your country needs you. We all need you. If you were next to Emma instead of me…hell, both of you would have been shot, regardless of you trying to play hero or not. They weren’t expecting me.”

Liam’s phone vibrated. “Sorry, Drake, I need to take this. I’ll be right back.”

Drake nodded as Liam walked off. Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.

“Let there be light!” Maxwell walks in and flips the light switch next to the door, the room bathed in light.

Emma looks around, confused. “Where is everyone?”

“Liam and Bertrand both had calls to make, and Hana went to find the kitchen and see about making some food. She said something about having brought brownie mix…”

“Ooh, I’m so in.” Maxwell saunters to the other side of the room and disappears through an open door. Emma moves closer to Drake.

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

He smiled. “A lot better than last night. Thanks to you.”

She blushed. “It was nothing.”

She is so adorable.  “It really wasn’t. But…honestly, the bullet wound isn’t what’s bothering me today.”

“Then what is?”

“Honestly? Someone is coming after you and Liam. Someone dangerous and powerful. And last night they got too damn close to hurting either of you. I won’t let something like that happen again. There has to be something I can do to help.”

He could see her pondering his words. “We need Cordonia to be strong right now. The people need something big to rally behind…and even to show that the country’s still strong and united.” She glances down at the glittering ring on her finger.

Oh no. Please no. “I’m not sure I like where this is going…”

Ignoring him, she continued. “What if that event…was our wedding?”

Uuuugggghhhh she just had to go there. “Our wedding, a big courtly affair with nobles everywhere? Hard pass.”

Doesn’t she know me at all?? Two minutes ago I thought we were soul mates!

But she didn’t let it go. “Think about it for another minute. We could make a real difference. Do it for the regular people of Cordonia. It’s not for the court or the nobles, it’s for all the people who look to the crown for strength and guidance. Those people need a dose of hope right now.”

Hope. They need hope. Drake looks into her twinkling eyes and then realizes…she’s right. He never had hope that someone as amazing as her would ever want him, and he was a miserable mess. He never had real hope until the day she chose him, and since then he’s felt like the luckiest bastard on the planet.

He runs his uninjured hand over his hair and laughs. “When it comes down to it, I don’t really care if I marry you in a cathedral or a barn. As long as you’re there saying, ‘I do’.”

Her eyes lit up. “Drake…That’s sweet, but even if we do this, we can still find a way to make sure the wedding still feels like ours.”

He gave her a curious look. “Oh, yeah? What’d you have in mind?”

She shrugged. “We’ll sneak off halfway through. I’m sure the other nobles would hardly notice our absence. And whiskey. Lots of whiskey.”

Alright, she definitely knows me. “I’m game. Especially if it means a sneak peek of our wedding night…”

“Hmm…if you play your cards right…” She teased.

He chuckled. “Alright, I’m in.”

“I knew you’d come around.” She announced triumphantly.

“Hard not to, when you’re the one I’m arguing against.”

She leans in, kissing his gently on the lips. “I am pretty persuasive, aren’t I?”

He felt his dick twitch, “More than you know…” He draws her in for another quick yet heated kiss. His whole body tingles pleasantly. “God, I’ll never get tired of that.”

“You better not.” She joked.

Laughter echoes from the kitchen, preceding the return of Liam, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand. Maxwell munches on a brownie.

“Now, let’s tell the others about the wedding. I’m sure everyone could use some good news right about now.” Emma takes Drake’s hand and faces the group. “Drake and I have something we’d like to tell you all.”

“We’re getting married!” Drake jumped in.  Holy hell, have I ever sounded this excited for something before? What has she done to me??

Bertrand gaped at them. “What? You’re marrying…Drake??”

Okay, I’ll try to ignore how his voice is dripping with disdain.

“Oh…” Liam swallows hard, then fixes his face into a careful smile. “Congratulations, you two.”

He’s lying. He’s hurt. I didn’t even tell him I was carrying around the ring everywhere. But I will never change my mind about this. Everyone knows I’d do anything for my best friend…but giving her up is the one thing I can’t do. The one thing I won’t do.

Emma continued, “And we were talking about what the country needs to see from the nobility right now. The Cordonian people need something to rally behind, so…our wedding will be a unifying event for the whole country. A show of strength and stability to everyone in Cordonia…our friends and any enemies.”

“A unifying event…” Bertrand ruminates for a moment, and shock slowly gives way to realization. “Nuptials for Cordonia’s newest Duchess would be quite exciting for the Cordonian people…it would be a celebrity wedding. That could be just the ticket to restore their faith.”

Liam slowly nodded, rubbing his chin in thought. “A show of hope and renewal.” He glanced back at Drake, who was still holding Emma’s hand. Liam gave them a small smile. “And love.”

Emma meets Drake’s eyes for a moment and warmth rises in his chest.

She grins. “Exactly. There’s nothing more unifying than a wedding.”

The wheels in Bertrand’s head were clearly spinning. “I suppose we’ll all have to add wedding preparations to our to-do lists for our return to the palace…”

Liam’s phone buzzes from his pocket. He answers it, his expression drawn. After a moment, he hangs up and turns to the group. “That was palace security calling to give us clearance to return to the palace. A motorcade is on its way to bring us home.”

As everyone began preparing for their departure, Drake pulled Emma into a corner for a word alone. “Why do I have a feeling you’re going to make me jump through all kinds of noble traditions for this thing?”

She smiled innocently. “Why, Drake Walker, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ah come on, Rose. You’re going to insist we do all kinds of things like…shopping for wedding party gifts, attend cake tastings…”

“Okay, hold up. You will LOVE cake tasting Mister.”

“Fancy cake, Rose. Fancy. There’s cake and there’s twelve tiered cakes with sparkles and tiaras and flowers and…” He trailed off, shuddering. “Just…stuff.”

Emma bit her lip, attempting to smother a laugh. “And what other horrors do you think I’ll subject you to?”

“I can only imagine! Watch, you’ll probably make me ride off into the sunset in some fancy carriage or something equally cliché.” He told her.

This time she burst out laughing. “That would definitely happen in my romance novel. The stable hand lands the princess and they live happily ever after, as they ride off into the sunset.”

He froze. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes!” She squealed in delight.

He groaned, pulling her in and hugging her tightly. “Can we just jump to the ‘Happily Ever After’ part?”

“Drake, Drake, Drake, come on, look at all we’ve been through. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.” He agreed. He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Rose.

“I love you too, Drake.” She whispers back before they kissed passionately once more, never wanting to let go again.

    @annekebbphotography @gardeningourmet @zigortega4life @eileendannie @thequeenofcronuts @drakewalkerfantasy @friedherringclodthing @coffeebeandragon @drakewalker04 @alesana45 @mfackenthal

@hrhdes @drakewalkerisreal @akrenich @feartheendlesssummer @moonlightgem7 @i-miss-trr @noey718-blog @snyggflicka @rhymesmenagerie @gibbles82 @drakesensworld​ @iplaydrake @mind-reader1 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @lovedrakewalker @notoriouscs @flowerpowell @choicesaddictedd​ @katedrakeohd @agent-bossypants

#drake's diary #drake x mc #drake x emma #drake walker #drake walker fanfiction #drake walker fanfic #trr drake #choices the royal romance #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #playchoices #choices stories you play #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanfiction #fluffy-marshmallow-heart #fluffy-marshmallow-heart fanfic #trr fanfic #choices trr #trr #choices fanfiction

[praphit]

IT Chapter 2: maybe he’s simply stupid

Party People! That killer clown... is BACK!

No, not that killer clown (although one could argue Ronald's body count is vastly higher).

THAT clown!

Good ol Pennywise.

The last time that we saw Pennywise he had just gotten his ass beat by a bunch of kids. Not a good look for any certified tough person; especially if it's a tough person who's supposed to be a villain!

He can't show his face around the villain bars or parties no more - he's a laughing stock! It wasn't just any group of kids he was defeated by, it was a group of kids who embrace the fact that they're losers ("The Losers Club"). That's pretty bad when a group of people accept their deprecatory labels to the point that they form not a support group, but a social club. Imagine if you were made fun of for having stinky feet, and you decided to join "The Stanky Feet Club". That's the level of debasement we're talking about. Pennywise got beat up by self-proclaimed losers.

You can't be considered a villain or a monster if you go down like that. You can't call the Justice League for Pennywise; they ain't coming! They MIGHT send Robin, MAYBE. I'm not sure the cops would even waste their time. I think that if they got a call about Pennywise, they'd just see if they could gather a gang of kids from a nearby middle school to oppose him.

Pennywise had to redeem himself.

So, in Chapter 2 - TWENTY SEVEN YEARS LATER, he decides to go after those same loser kids as adults. 27 years! Seems like a long time to plot one's revenge - you know, maybe he's simply stupid.

Yes, a long time, but here we are. He starts off his scheme for revenge on the Losers Club by eating gay people.

Yep.

Now, I'm not saying that Pennywise is homophobic or anything (the town he's in called Derry def is tho - my goodness!), but maybe you don't START your plan of evil with the LGBTQ community. You know?? - not a good look. I'm sure Thanos, when he's out there snapping away worlds, had a PR person whispering in his ear.

"Look, Thanny baby! You know I love ya! But, let's be sure (on this tour of destruction) NOT to hit up the minority planets first; don't worry we'll get to them. But, let's snap away a couple of predominantly white planets in the beginning."

It's bad for approval rating. I mean, the white supremacists ratings would hit an all time high, but... no one REALLY wants that look.

But, Pennywise stamps down possible homophobia on his resume, and grabs the attention of... the Old Spice guy. Or known in this universe as MIKE.

His Old Spice days are over! He's going for the neighborhood crazy guy look now.

Mike is the token black dude in The Losers Club. Mike has been living in an attic for 27 years ever since "the losers" made a promise that if Pennywise ever came back, they'd all come back too, to stop him for good.

Mike gives all of the losers a call one by one to convince them to come back and honor their promise.

People let me just say, if you're traumatized in a certain area, the normal thing to do is to leave that area and never go back.

I remember, back when I was in middle school, seeing one of my teachers outside of school at a market (weird in an of itself). But, it was raining hard, and her makeup was running big time. Now, people, I did not realize at the time the powers of makeup. I knew it could enhance one's appearance. I did not know it could give one a whole new face. This rainy day I saw my teacher's face melt off as she was walking towards me in the market to say "hello" Freaked me the bleep out!  People I’m sorry, but I’m just telling you my truth from the perspective of a child at the time.

It was like - with makeup she looked like Halle Berry

And as the makeup washed off - she looked like Morgan Freeman

I don't think y'all understand.

With makeup - 

 (well, not QUITE like that, but pretty much. I didn't do well in that class. I was distracted for some reason.)

Without makeup - 

That drastic!

I ran away from that monster (or woman, I guess - people, I'm just saying that I can't PROVE she's NOT a "monster" who ripped off her face). Point is I have no interest of going to that part of town ever again. Trauma runs deep.

These losers now adults have sweet lives (well, most of them). Why go back to face a killer clown?

BUT, Mike does his thing and they all band back together!

Like the Avengers:

They have a The leader - James McAvoy The jokester - Bill Hader The tall, sexy guy - though he used to be the fat kid

 (see that - bullying has it's uses. He’s getting all of the money and women now! Had he not been bullied he may have be destroyed by that other clown).

The hypochondriac (there's one on ever super team right?)

The scared of everything guy (... well, they are "the losers")

The sexy chick - Jessica Chastain

And the black dude - Mr. Spice

BOOM! BACK!

They track down Pennywise - he's out there doing his thing: eating kids and gay people... and shapeshifting into old ladies (like seen in the trailer).

He might have to stamp down "pervert" on his resume as well. Cuz not only is he shapeshifting into old ladies, but he's getting naked before chasing people too. This is some plan he's executing!

Pennywise's powers are amped up in this chapter, though maybe too much. Annnnnnd here's where the big flaws begin for me. I know, party people... I was looking forward to this movie too I loved chapter one), but...

Big Flaw #1 - Unexplained rules

I'm not sure of the rules of Pennywise's powers. I can't tell what's real or not, due to all of the hallucinations and whether or not people can be hurt in the sitches - I don't feel like it's consistent. There are plenty of times when he has his prey, and they slip through his fingers somehow. Why does he keep letting them escape? Or are his powers not as great as advertised? If it's all in their heads, are they ever in any real danger? Idk. Look, with Jigsaw, we didn't need an explanation for how an senior citizen riddled with cancer is making all of these elaborate traps, purchasing materials for these traps, and cleaning up the horrifyingly bloody evidence again and again. 

BUT, we knew what Jigsaw was all about. We knew the extent of his "powers" - that's all I'm saying! Plus, Pennywise sets someone free to go after The Losers (which the plot def did not need), but how that whole thing plays out (concerning Pennywise's abilities) makes no sense.

Big Flaw #2 - bad storytelling

Pennywise's origin is kinda explained in this chapter. I say "kinda" cuz we as the audience experience the telling of that story vicariously through someone on some type of acid trip. Like any good drug trip, who the hell knows what was going on?? So, they screwed up the origin, they never explain his powers well enough, the whole thing with The Losers coming back and listening to crazy ass Mike (who's been tripping on acid and living in an attic for 27 years) as he leads them in a quest to kill the clown MAKES NO SENSE. I'm not even going to get into said "quest" - also makes no sense. And then the ending... wow, stupifying.

Big Flaw #3 - CGI

It's not that it's bad, it just isn't scary. It's the opposite of scary. It's down right goofy at times. Like a spook house created for the whole family. Perfect example is in the triler I mentioned, when Jessica Chastain is being chased by the naked old lady. The way that they do the cg there... If I were Jessica Chastain in that moment, I wouldn't have been scared. I would have been like "Really dude? *heavy sigh* Pennywise, can we talk about what's going on with you? And why the bleep are you naked anyway?! You know they're gonna stamp "pervert" on your resume. None of this is scary. And you're just going to let me escape! You big dummy!"

Seriously, maybe he's simply stupid.

I mean look at him.

Maybe that's scary, because that's the face he makes before he eats you, but it's also the drooling face I've seen people make when met with basic math problems.

It's not all bad! The acting is really good! And I was never bored in this 3 hour long movie (which is impressive), but all of those flaws equal a GRADE ----  D

Poor Pennywise.... what will his legacy be? Pervert, homophobe, possibly plain stupid person, who chose to dress like a clown. Got his ass beat by a group of kids... THEN that same group of kids come back as adults and beat his ass again. And the way he's defeated... it's so humiliating (and confusing - let's not forget the poor writing), but yikes... No "monster" to my memory has ever been defeated in such a way; I actually felt bad for him.

They had better not make a Chapter 3.

At the end of the movie, crazy ass Mike is packing his bag and about to leave the attic. I was thinking to myself "That dude is unstable." Wherever he's going, he's going to engage in some crazy behavior.They COULD make another chapter out of THAT. Mike starts dressing up like a clown and eating kids. Make that movie!

But, no more Pennywise please! He set scary clowns back ten years with this movie.

#it chapter 2 #pennywise #john praphit #praphitproductions.com #Halle Berry #morgan freeman #praphit #movies #Movie Reviews #Horror Movies #lgbtq #thanos #mcdonalds #ronald mcdonald #clowns

[virgilantejustice]

Heartbreak: The infection

I wrote this a while ago, because apparently i love to torture myself and my characters. I wouldn’t say that it is part of the main story, and i dont know if it really adds anything, hell, it might make it worse, but i wanted to write it. Read at your own peril, because im not sure if it ruins the whole thing or not.

chapter one    chapter two    chapter three    on the church steps    sea of stars    (this one fits in here)

Word count: ~2000

Trigger warnings: Major character death, injury/mutilation, murder, crying

masterpost link

———————————————————————-

A year later.

The sun was rising, and the light was streaming through the stained glass windows and striking the floor in multicoloured rays. Logan saw the light dancing on the inside of his eyelids even before he opened them, to see Patton lying beside him, smiling in his sleep.

“Hey, Sleepy Head,” Logan murmured. Patton groaned and swiped sleepily at him with his eyes closed, his hand in totally the wrong place. Logan laughed gently and shook his shoulder.

“Whaaaaaat?” he groaned with a giggle, opening his eyes and sitting up on his elbows.

“Time to get up,” Logan replied, slowly getting to his feet and pulling on his clothes. Patton moaned and did the same. When he was done, he straightened Logan’s tie (a remenant from his last life that he was determined to keep a hold of) and planted a light kiss on his cheek, the sun creating a halo in his messy morning hair.

They smiled at each other for a moment, Logan didn’t even realise that he was leaning in before Patton broke the eye contact to look at the water container. It was empty.

“Darn it,” Patton said, looking back at Logan. “I’ll go get some more.”

“I’ll get it-”

“I can get it, its fine.” He beamed up at him, brighter than the sun rays that were striking to floor with their golden whips. Then he turned and headed out of the front doors to go to the stream that traipsed down the hill a couple of minutes walk away.

Logan went to knock on Virgil’s door, but it was still pretty early, they needed the sleep. The bags under their eyes had lightened significantly since Logan had found them, but they were still there. A sad reminder of that first day…. No. Not thinking about that. About the ball. About the death. No. Not death. Already dead.

Then Logan heard the door open and he ran to it, eager to take the water from Patton’s hands and lose himself in his eyes, to forget that day. But as soon as he saw him, he stopped in his tracks.

Patton was covering his face with one bloody hand, and the water container was hanging in shreds from the other. He had so much fear in his eyes. Logan reached up a hand of his own and pulled it away, then gasped and stumbled backwards.

He saw something he had hoped, that he had dreamed, he had wished that he would never see, but no one listened to the dreams of the damned. Small blotches of yellow were showing through the freckles that filled Patton’s skin, all across the bridge of his nose.

Logan didn’t look away. Instead he lost himself in the dark passages of his mind, the thing that had always managed to keep him safe, but it was becoming darker by the second. Patton didn’t look away either, but his gaze kept wondering hungrily down Logan’s face to his neck and chest.

“Virgil,” Logan shouted, but the words fought in his throat and came out a a wheeze. His breath hitched, and tears sprung into Patton’s eyes. “Virgil!” he shouted again. He heard the door open, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from Patton’s face. “Go and pack up everything, all the supplies, everything, then wait outside.” His voice was monotone and lifeless, but how the bloody hell was he supposed to inspire joy, or positivity?!

“But-”

“Now!” Logan spun around, marched forwards, and grabbed Virgil’s shoulders, wobbling slightly, so they grabbed his elbows to keep him standing. Logan looked into their eyes and knew that his own were filling with water. “Please!” They looked shocked more than scared, their eyes wide with concern. But after they saw the pure pleading that was in Logan’s own, they shrunk in on themself, and walked from the room.

When Logan turned back around, Patton was lying on the ground. “What are you doing?” he asked in a voice that was shaking with the answer that he had locked away deep in his mind.

Patton smiled up at him, but he couldnt hide the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. “You know what you have to do.”

Logan came and knelt next to him. His hands began to shake. “I cant live without…” His tears choked him, cutting off his words. He pressed his clenched fists to his forehead. He screwed his eyes shut, as if that would make it just go away! “I can’t live without you!”

Patton placed a gentle hand on his arm. Logan opened his eyes, his breath shaking, coming in small gasps. Patton smiled a watery, shivery smile, his eyes glittering. “But I can’t let you die with me.”

Logan’s carefully constructed world was closing in. He already saw the darkness beginning to creep into the corners of the brown in Patton’s. He tried to speak, but his voice had been stolen, silently ripped from his throat.

“Please,” Logan whispered, squinting at Patton’s beautiful face. He had been through so much. They had been through so much together. He couldn’t….

Patton reached up a hand and stroked Logan’s hair back from his face. He leant into the warmth of his hand, tears pooling at the corners of his mouth as his gaze once again flickered down to his neck, furthering the realisation of what he had to do.

Logan pressed his blade to Patton’s throat. It felt so cold in his hand. So cold. So empty and silver and cold. His hand shook so much that he grasped it with the other, his breath was coming in short bursts, and his back was heaving with sobs that burst from his throat like wild animals on the hunt.

“I cant…”

Patton tried to offer him a smile, and lay a hand over his eyes, like a prisoner about to be executed. Logan’s hands still shook, but he pressed down. Patton gasped. Logan whimpered. The shadows in the corners of the chapel were creeping in, wrapping their tendrils around his hands and forcing them down. And in one fluid motion, blood flowed, and the steady rise and fall coming from under his arms stopped.

An immense weight collapsed down on him, and it felt as if the roof had fallen in. Thoughts and feelings raced through his head, filling him to bursting and crushing him from the inside. Crushing him with the pain and the guilt and the love that he would never get back. With the years of hard work and the blood that stained his hands that he knew he could never wash away. With the logic that acted a scaffolding, holding up his universe, being drowned and swept away by clawing, wild, ragged grief.

He began to choke on his own tears, a gushing, swirling, monstrous river ripping through his mind. He was being washed away. He clung onto Patton’s body to stop himself from drowning, clinging to his shoulders, stroking his hair, trying to stop the crimson flood still flowing from him.

He cried. So long. So hard. He cried. He didn’t stop crying for a long time. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even try. And so he cried. He cried and screamed and hugged his boyfriend close to his chest and rocked him back and forth like a mother rocking a child. His tears seeped into his hair and spattered onto his face, coating it with a salty slick.

He didn’t let go. He couldn’t. If he did, he would surely fall.

———————————————————————-

Logan didn’t know how long he lay there, cradling Patton, pushing him away then pulling him back. He began to cough violently. Choking and spluttering chestily from his lungs, shaking his whole body.

He heard the doorknob begin to turn. “No! Don’t come in!” he shouted through the coughing.

“Do not come in!” He didn’t want Virgil to see.

“What’s going on!?” came a muffled voice from through the door. They sounded so panicked and confused.

Logan stared at Patton’s face. So beautiful. So hardened. He had been through so, so much. Almost died several times, and Logan was always there by his side! He had always been there to save him! Now he was dead. By Logan’s hand.

“I need you to go,” he said, quietly but enough for them to hear through the door. He felt dejected, drained, no energy, no life.

“What?! Why?! Where?!” Virgil cried, the doorknob turning once again.

Logan didnt want to answer his questions. He just wanted him to leave. To leave him alone with the extinguished candle that had been his last scrap of hope. “I need you to go far away, take the supplies. Find someone else like you found me.”

“I cant just go!” they cried through the door, their voice cracking with the panic. “What’s going on?”

“I wont tell you!” he cried. “Please, for my sake as much as your own, just go! Please!” Logan could hear his voice cracking, falling apart, rubbed raw, but he didn’t care. How was he supposed to keep his voice steady?! But he was always the steady one! He was always supposed to be dependable!

Slowly, the door opened. He shied away from the light, the tears in his eyes turning it into a blinding glare.

“Oh my god,” Virgil breathed, stopping in their tracks. “Is that…?”

“Yes.”

“Is he…?”

Logan tried to swallow the lump that was choking him in his throat. “Yes. He is.”

———————————————————————-

Logan couldn’t take his eyes away. He couldnt do anything but stare. He was… He was gone? How? Why? Why did he have to be taken, he hadn’t done anything to deserve this! He had always been so sweet, and kind, and… But now….

He staggered on his feet and leant on Virgil, who looped their arm under his to keep him up. They were staring too, but, unlike Logan, tears were streaming down their face. Logan had long since stopped crying. He couldn’t find it in him to cry any longer. For seven years, he had been there, and all the time before that. He couldn’t be gone! But he was.

“Come on.” Virgil’s voice was muffled and distant, as if underwater. “We cant stay here.” They led him outside and then went in to collect our belongings.

“Wait!” Logan shouted, snapping out of his haze. “We cant just leave him here!” Virgil stared at him for a moment. He was confused as for why, until he realised that he was, in fact, crying again. Something they had never seen him do in the year that they’d known each other. Logan hastily pulled his hand up to his face and rubbed the tears away, for what good would tears do? They wouldn’t bring him back.

———————————————————————-

They dug a grave. A deep pit in the arid ground. Logan went over to where Patton lay, and tried to pick him up, but his arms had gone limp, like they’d just given in. He fell backwards and sat there, tears escaping faster than he could wipe them away, twisting Patton’s loose, brown curls around and around in his hands.

Virgil stood behind him for a moment. Patton had looked after them on that first day that Logan brought them here. He had comforted them and helped them work through the loss of their family. He had always been so good at that….

After a few minutes, Virgil picked him up and took him outside, lowering him gently into the hole that they had dug. The sun glistened off his skin, lighting him up and making him glow. Logan had always been adamant that angels didn’t exist, that they were just a fantasy for the desperate, but i guess you don’t realise what you have until it’s gone.

After filling the hole back in, they left. They couldn’t stay. Too many memories. Too many…. They couldn’t stay in a place where he was gone, but where he still lived.

———————————————————————-

They didn’t know where they were going. But they knew that it wouldn’t feel like home. Not without him to a make it so. Logan had been through so much with him, and they’d made it through together. He wasn’t alone though, he had a sibling now. A sibling who had lost a brother. And a heart that had lost it’s love in a world with none to spare.

——————————————————————————————————————————————–

Infection tag list: @the-blue-belle-blog @monstercupcake61176 @starryfirefliesbloggo @iolanomsgranola @mourning–star

General writing taglist: @randomavengersquotes @combine-the-kitchens @soakinforsif

Sorry if i got that wrong, i posted the first chapters a long time ago….

Tell me if you want to be added or removed!!

#sanders sides #sanders side fic #thomas sanders #ts virgil #sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #logicality #fiction #my fic #fan fic #fanfic #fandom #ts fandom #the infection

[yoowritings-blog]

SF9 REACTION ONE.

SF9′s reaction to having an arranged marriage with someone they cheated on. (CEO AU)

Description: SF9, individually, cheated on you once, which led to a heart wrenching break-up. But, things take a turn for the worse when you have an arranged marriage to them.

Warnings: Mature language!

INSEONG:

Standing on the white tiled floor, Inseong looked at the bride coming. The older boy’s hands were nervously clasping and unclasping together, however, he was still able to look stealthy to those around him. A small, charming smile found its way on to his face, helping him portray the feeling that nothing was wrong. So lost in thought, he didn’t notice that his bride had made her way to him; however, when he heard her clear her throat, the blonde haired male was shaken out of his thoughts and he quickly swerved his body so he was staring directly at her veil-covered face.

As the priest began speaking, Inseong secretly squinted his brown kitten-like eyes in hopes to get a better view of who his wife to be was; dread quickly overcoming his body as he realized he couldn’t make out her face whatsoever. 

Nevertheless, should he really care?

After all, the grand marriage was hardly based on his feelings. It was for the media to be drawn in, like bees to honey, and help make his family-company stay in the limelight. Thus, meaning, whoever he married, his life wouldn’t be that impacted.

Right?

“Inseong, do you say ‘I do’?” The priest questioned to him, his eyebrow quirking as he waited for a response from the fairly young CEO. The words spoken were quickly registered into his mind, causing Inseong to abruptly smile and loudly say the words. Soon, the veil was lifted off of the bride’s face and the young CEO stood face to face with someone who he believed he would never see again. A small, almost inaudible, gasp left his mouth as the bride displayed a bitter smile.

A bitter smile only directed at him.

“(Y/n), do you say 'I do’?” (Y/n) forces out a smile, the words barely coming out from her blood red painted lips.

“I do.”

The two words caused Inseong’s mouth to go dry and his vision to go blurry. 

YOUNGBIN:

Youngbin’s almond colored eyes bore onto the food on his fine China plate, the chatter of his family and her’s causing him to eat slower-- he genuinely regretted not rejecting the proposal of an arranged marriage three months ago. His sharp gaze soon settled on to the diamond engraved wedding band on his ring finger.

If a gaze could burn, his certainly would have. 

“I need fresh air.” She suddenly spoke, her words piercing through the atmosphere. Her face looked so angelic that her mother nodded in approval fo her to leave. “Youngbin, why don’t you go with (Y/n).” His own mother commanded, causing the boy to quickly nod his head.

The brown, wooden chair he occupied was soon heard screeching away from the dinner table, as he began to slowly walk towards the beautiful garden his parent had made when he was a child; the place he knew she would be.

Once there, the cool autumn wind engulfed his lean frame; however, that didn’t slow him down on his quest to get closer to the female. “Why didn’t you reject?” (Y/n) spoke, her words hardly above a whisper. Externally, Youngbin cringed. “I-I don’t know,” he sheepishly stuttered out, his hand going to caress the back of his neck; a trait he reserved for when he was nervous. (Y/n) turned her body around, and that’s when the boy noticed her tear dried cheeks paired with her still glossy eyes. Her pink colored lips opened and Youngbin felt apprehension grace his emotions with her words,

“Why would you want to hurt me again?”

JAEYOON:

Jaeyoon’s hand reached to grab her’s as she pulled away from him. The wedding ceremony had just ended; he and she were husband and wife by law now. A loud sigh escaped his plump, coral lips, “(Y/n), please, please! Just fucking listen to me!” He spoke, frustration lacing his tone. His words pleaded for her to listen-- unfortunately, it only fueled her anger.

“No Jaeyoon! You don’t fucking understand.” She harshly whispered to him. Her words so broken that it ate away at him, he was sure that it would keep him awake tonight. Her (e/c) eyes bore right into his brown eyes. “I love Inseong! my feelings aren’t a fucking joke, you prick. We’re married now and--and--oh my God. I broke Inseong. I actually broke his heart.”

“(Y/n), if you would just listen-”

“Lee Jaeyoon, can you fucking listen to me?!” She cried out, “I hurt Inseong! He was crying during the entire ceremony, for fuck’s sake! Didn’t you see how broken he looked? I broke him... Just like you did to me. But, here’s the difference. He healed me, something you didn’t-- still don’t, have the balls to do.” She jarringly replied to him as the weight of the situation dawned on to her.

“But, then again... Jaeyoon, how would you know the feeling of heartbreak? You weren’t the one who was cheated on.”

DAWON:

Sanghyuk huffed as he laid on the ground, the harsh wooden floor was screwing with his posture; therefore, no matter how many blankets he placed on the stubborn ground, it still felt as though tiny daggers were digging into his pale back. Biting his lower lip, he quickly made a hast decision.

Standing up, he swiftly walked over towards the king sized bed as his brown eyes stayed glued to his wife’s sleeping posture. Crossing his fingers, he prayed to some God out there that she wouldn’t accidentally kick him or push him off of the large mattress.

Laying on his side, his pink colored lips pursed into a small pout once he saw her face… Underneath the fluffy, warm blanket, her tear stained cheeks shone, creating a glossy effect.

He had really screwed up by marrying her.

“Sanghyuk--please, why? Why did you cheat on me?” (Y/n) sleep talked, her words causing Sanghyk’s brown eyes to well up with tears. Tears that threatened to spill over. “I’m sorry,” he pathetically whispered out to her sleep-talked question. 

Slowly, a dark chuckle escaped his mouth when he realized he was crying.

“Ah. I’m so unworthy of you, (Y/n).”

ZUHO:

Juho’s eyes glossed up in confusion and sorrow when he saw her-- he was beyond baffled due to her abrupt appearance, as he had genuinely expected that she would be the last person he would be wed to. Before he could stop himself the words flew right out of his mouth, “I’m Baek Juho, I don’t think we’ve ever met,” his calm tone confused her, but, she was able to quickly regain her composure.

He was going to act as though they didn’t know each other.

The look she sent him was enough to make Juho want to burst into tears, and that was something he didn’t know he could feel. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was acting as though he didn’t know the beautiful girl, or because he had cheated on her. “Please, take a seat.” (Y/n) spoke, her words monotone as she sent him a snarky smile.

Taking a seat next to her, he felt her move away from him. His fingers swiftly went to play with the diamond band on his finger, his chocolate brown eyes so glossy that (Y/n)’s mother questioned him out of concern-- one hundred percent unaware of the deep, dark, distressful past her daughter and he held. “Juho, dear, are you going to cry?” She humored, causing Juho to honestly nod. A pain filled smile infused its way onto his face, however, no one noticed.

No one but (Y/n).

“How could I not? Your beautiful daughter is going to be my wife.” He quietly let out, causing both sets of parents to awe; but he paid little attention to the sweet noise, rather, he focused on the hurt and disgust that was painted across (Y/n)’s face.

God, I truly am the biggest scum on the face of the planet, Juho thought to himself.

ROWOON:

Seokwoo resisted the urge to slap his face bloody when he saw (Y/n) laying on the cream colored couch. Three weeks had gone by since the day of the marriage and each day he arrived late, but left early, in fear of angering (Y/n) even more or doing something he would regret.

A small sigh left his pink lips as he dropped his briefcase on to the coffee table. He walked over to her small figure and gently lifted her off the furniture to carry her to her own bedroom. Holding her bridal style, he walked towards the room. Taking a glace down at her, he noticed she was awake-- but beyond exhausted as the bags under her strong (e/c) eyes displayed the bigger picture. “Seokwoo?” (Y/n) rasped out, her voice almost causing him to melt into a puddle of happiness.

He truly expected her to call him something crude.

“Sh, (Y/n), just go back to sleep.” He softly proposed to her, still holding her fragile figure. “Seokwoo,” she softly began, “Why did you to agree to the proposal? You could have said 'no’, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about my heart getting broken again.”

Her sorrow filled words caused Seokwoo to take a rough gulp.

“Go back to sleep.” He hesitantly whispered back as he could’t bring himself to answer her.

TAEYANG:

Taeyang watched her stunning figure sway along with her lover, his heart breaking as his brown eyes focused on their figures. The way her hands fit perfectly around his neck hurt him more than he would have liked to admit. Furthermore, the way (Y/n)’s lover had his hands planted on her waist, a familiar emotion of envy engrossed the lean male’s body. He genuinely regretted saying yes when his wife had asked him if she could invite her lover. Despite that, the look she gave him when she asked him that question-- it made him realize that he didn’t have the heart to disagree with her.

“Tae, you’re staring... Again.” Youngbin pointed out with the hand that held the scarlet colored wine, his hazel hued eyes watching his younger friend’s eyes that bore into his wife and her lover. “Bin, I really can’t help myself,” he quietly whispered out to the boy as his glossy eyes went to stare at the older boy. “God, it really hurts… I love her so damn much, but I hurt her, and now she’s happy with him.”

His words caused the older boy to sigh and shake his head in empathy for his friend. “Tae, if you want to get back together with her, then, for fuck’s sake, tell her the damn truth! That girl, one hundred percent, fucking blackmailed you. Please, it hurts not just me, but everyone else, that you won’t tell her the truth.”

A bitter smile decorated Taeyang’s face as he stared back at his friend, “But I can’t, Youngbin, I can’t.”

HWIYOUNG:

Youngkyun looked at the breathtaking girl. She was dressed in a tight black dress and red stilettos-- her choice of clothing caused his tongue to graze his bottom lip as he enjoyed the view. The whiskey filled cup he had ordered prior to her entrance was soon forgotten. His mind had quickly registered her appearance, and before anyone could blink, he was making his way towards her figure. Grabbing her hand, he began to pull her out of the prying eyes of the nightclub.

Once again, his short temper had gotten the best of him.

“Youngkyun!” (Y/n) screeched out. She was extremely bewildered by the man’s actions. The lean boy’s lips quickly pursed into a tight line as he pulled her into the elevator, powerfully pressing the button that would lead them to their hall number. Scoffing to himself, Youngkyun looked the other way.

“What the actual fuck! Why did you do that?” She exclaimed to him. Her question caused Youngkyun to shake his head and stare at her in disbelief. “We’re engaged, you can’t wear shit like that to a fucking nightclub unless you aren’t engaged. What would the media think?” He retaliated to her, frustration and a hint of jealousy evident in his voice.

Smiling bitterly, (Y/n) fired back at him, “What would the media think if they found out you cheated on me before this?”

Chani:

Chani sighed to himself as he watched (Y/n) talk to Taeyang, also known as his older step-brother and her boyfriend, his hands turning into passive aggressive fists when he noticed how happy she looked with him. His almond colored eyes were quickly beginning to gloss up with tears as he realized she looked damn near perfect with him than she ever did with him. Soon enough, his fists opened up and his fingers began to play with the diamond studded band that decorated his ring finger.

He regretted cheating on her and then wanting to marry her.

His selfishness had gotten the best of him.

Yet, the more disgusting part was that; he was marrying the girl his step-brother was actually in love with. However, Chani couldn’t help it. He was hopelessly in love and infatuated with her, she was the reason he had even wanted to pursue his father’s company when he grew older. All because he knew she would be with him when that happened. But of course, he had ruined whatever love they had when he had kissed another

“Why me?” He whimpered out to himself.

#sf9 reactions #sf9 #kim youngbin #youngbin #kim inseong #inseong #lee dawon #x reader #kpop #dawon #kim rowoon #rowoon #lee jaeyoon #jaeyoon #kim hwiyoung #hwiyoung #yoo taeyang #taeyang #kim chani #chani #baek zuho #zuho #kpop reactions #ceo au #sanghyuk #seokwoo #juho #sf9 x reader

[ineffablecolors]

New Tales from the Old Forest [4/?]

To mark the beginning of December properly I have something new for this verse. Whether you enjoyed this last December as part of my 'Tis The Season series, found it later on or are just now stumbling upon it - I hope this starts off your holiday fanfic endeavors just right (I sure hope it does the same for mine 'cause I have plans for this fic).

Happy beginning of Christmas and welcome back to New Tales from the Old Forest!

New Tales from the Old Forest; ~ 2, 800 words; FF.NET || AO3

Using the gorgeous banner @katie-dub created for me once upon a time! :*

She stomps back to her car through five feet of snow, feeling the coldness slither in through the zipper and the little hole on the inner side of her left boot. Wet socks. The last thing Emma Swan needs at 8 pm on the 24th of December.

Henry is in the backseat where she left him 15 minutes ago, his fingers moving rapidly over the screen of his phone now that it is too dark for him to be reading his book. 

Emma sighs at the memory of that Golden Age of 15 minutes ago. Back when hope and excitement and that warm fuzzy feeling that she had been making tentative friends with over the last year had kept her from realizing exactly how fucking cold and windy the coast of Maine was in the smack-dab middle of winter. Yes, her nerves had been pulled pretty tight back then but not like this. Not like now.

15 minutes ago it felt like Dasher, Dancer... Patter? Pranter? Ugh. All of Santa's prats of reindeer were making her insides their new holiday runway. Led by that Cupid bastard. 

That’s it. She is blaming it all on some freaking Christmas reindeer possession or... yeah, that sounds good.

Because there is no way she would be in this situation, if she was in possession of all her faculties. Nope, no way. This situation is exactly the kind of situation that Emma Swan is an expert at avoiding. Or she was. A year ago.

And yet. Here she is. At 8:07 pm now, on the freaking 24th of freaking December, with a trunk full of presents, a 11-year-old in the backseat and three Americanos buzzing through her system.

In Storybrooke, fucking Maine, in front of Killian fucking Jones' house. His very dark. Very empty house. 

How did she end up here again?

Oh, yeah.

///

It's official. Emma Swan is a moron. An absolute fucking idiot. It takes exactly 2 days, 1 hour and oh, 20 or so minutes after Killian kissed her goodbye and got into his cab to the airport for- 

It’s the middle of February and it's not freezing or anything but the wind is giving a vicious whipping to any and all skin she was foolish enough to leave exposed. And she would like nothing more than to take Killian's hand - his very gloveless, very cold hand - and squeeze them into the cab waiting in front of her apartment (yes, they had dinner at her apartment and she royally screwed it up and what else is new in Emma Swan’s world).

But Henry is waiting for her inside, hopefully (but highly unlikely after an evening spent in Killian's presence) already in bed and she has a honey trap to set tomorrow and her homework to do before that and a drive to the airport and back really doesn't sound that appealing.

So instead she sways a little on her feet and quirks up an eyebrow and says she'll get him a calendar for next time and she lets him pull her in so that she kinda steps on his toes but also ends up with his lips on the corner of her mouth. She lets her hands frame his face and regrets the long coat that she was so grateful for a moment ago because she can barely feel his hand on her waist through the thick wool. She opens her mouth and tastes her Bechamel sauce (which is sadly inferior to her Bolognese). She sighs into him and digs her nose into his cheek when he goes to pull back. She plays with the soft part of his left ear and makes him kiss her again, less tongue, more teeth, more pressure and the very first licks of regret for not taking this further when she had the chance. She lets him let her go and get into the cab. And she waves when he is already almost out of sight.

It takes exactly 2 days, 1 hour and oh, 25 minutes or so now after Killian kissed her goodbye and got in his cab to the airport for those licks of regret to become a full-on raging fire of 'Emma Swan is an absolute fucking idiot for not banging Killian Jones when she had the chance’.

///

 It's official. Killian Jones is an idiot. A complete and utter bonehead. It takes precisely one solid night of sleep and two days without hearing from Emma for him to realize that.

Of course, he heard from Henry but he highly doubts that Emma knows that and that… well…

"How how did you manage to mess that up?"

Killian scrubs his good hand down his face and tries to blink his eyes properly open. Getting in at 'I don't want to look at the clock 'cause my head knows I won't like what I see' o'clock and getting up for a meeting with Regina the next morning (because some people know how to tell days and some other people are too stubborn to admit their stupidity and ask for a re-schedule) is really not conductive to him being ship-shape in the late afternoon.

Which, unfortunately, is when Henry gets home from school and wants to know precisely why Killian showed up at Emma's door two hours after him on the 15th of February.

"I assure you, lad, I keep asking myself the same thing."

"I convinced my teacher to organize a Valentine's Day sleepover just so you guys can have a...." Henry stammers a bit here and if Killian was more awake, he'd be able to tell if it's the light in his room or the boy is actually blushing. "You know... grown-ups sleepover.."

He... does not know what he is supposed to say to that. What would Emma want him to say to that? What would he tell his own son, if he-

"Well, unplanned as it was, I'm glad that my miscalculation-"

Henry snorts at that but Killian chooses to ignore it.

"-meant I got to spent time with both your mother and you."

Yeah, that… that was nice. Talking to Henry always is. Nice and rejuvenating and inspiring and life-reaffirming and many other things that Killian will keep to himself so that he doesn’t completely freak out the poor boy.

His mother however is a whole different ballgame. Obviously. Would be concerning, if she wasn’t…

He is losing his bloody mind. It has been scattered all over ever since he got back but now that he’s had a good night’s rest, it’s even worse. Because now he gets to think about it. His little impromptu surprise. He gets to think and analyze and rationalize and all those things he knows make his characters compelling on page but make his own life bloody miserable on practice.

And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to get up and go bang his head against the tiles in his bathroom.

What the hell was he thinking?!

Flying over on Valentine’s Day? Showing up a day late with a bloody bouquet of bloody paper flowers. Paper flowers! Lord, could he be more of a walking cliché? At least he left the poem attempts on his desk where they are merrily mocking him right now.

What did Emma do on Valentine’s Day (the actual day, bloody buggering-)? She simply called him.

“Of course she did, she is a bloody normal person, who hasn’t spent the last seven years in minimum contact with humanity.”

He remembers the obvious surprise on her face when he showed up on her doorstep. Even after he had blurted out his plans to her over Skype the night before. Perhaps even after that she didn’t expect him to show up. Perhaps she thought he was a somewhat normal and well-functioning person.

“Well, joke’s on her, ain’t it?”

He remembers her slight discomfort at having him in her apartment – her eyes darting this way and that way, her hand aborting its movement as she reached to brush something off his shoulder.

He remembers Henry’s shock at his arriving just after he had gotten home himself – the way his eyes grew wide – surprise and then glee (bless the lad’s pure heart, not finding anything weird about him just showing up on their doorstep at 11 in the morning).

He remembers the awkwardness at trying to figure out what to do now that they were obviously spending the day together – movies seemed too time-wasting, skating seemed like too much activity, a simple walk seemed aimless and why was this so bloody hard, he had been talking to both of them on the regular for over a month.

He remembers other things too. Still feels them rather. He feels the brush of her fingers as she handed him a cup of coffee while listing places in New York City that had good coffee. He feels the brush of her shoulder against his as they walked down a narrow sidewalk and he struggled to always stay on her right. He feels her breath just below his ear where it tickled him every time she leaned to supply any crucial information that he might need to comprehend the infinite amount of school stories that Henry seemed to be set on regaling him with. He feels the way their couch bounced as the lad dropped next to him, while Emma was getting dinner ready, and broke his words-per-minute record again, this time asking Killian for stories from book signings and the casting for the movie and everything else that he imagines any self-proclaimed ‘fan’ will eventually lose the battle with trying to keep locked inside.

And then he remembers the expression on her face. The utter horror that washed over when she realized that she’d prepared a steak dinner for a one-handed man.

It’s been years. It’s not… well, it’s never not a shock but it’s not a surprise anymore. When he discovers something new, something old that he can’t do anymore. Of course, he came across the fork and knife issue a long time ago – has it mostly figured out by this point.

Funny how he didn’t see this new thing coming – disappointing the girl you like. It probably has something to do with the fact that he hasn’t actually liked a girl in the time he has been operating with one hand. Not like that. Not a girl like that.

And she seems beyond embarrassed or annoyed or worried, she seemed on a whole other plane, holding court with herself over the soundness of her decision. Whether the one to make steak for dinner or to let him into her house (her life) – Killian really isn’t sure he wants to know, even while his brain insists on probing and guessing and analyzing and basically bloody torturing him.

“You should just let mom cut it for you. I always do. Steak is a bitch.”

“Henry! Language.”

“Sorry. Steak is a pain.”

The lad’s expression is so droll, it somehow manages to make him chuckle and draw him out of his plans to just spear the steak on his fork and risk doing his best impersonation of the dining scene from Beauty and the Beast. 

And then he remembers the pinkness of her nose in the cold evening air and the press of her warm tongue so in contrast with that chilly little nose and the way she seemed to shuffle into him every time he considered pulling back and the almost wistful glow in her eyes when he finally did.

He remembers something and reaches for his phone and then he remembers another and drops it like it’s burning his only remaining fingers.

And that’s how 2 days pass. And then another 2. And then a week.

And during the second week he starts reaching for it less and less because it doesn’t really take that much thinking and analyzing to figure out what it means that she hasn’t called him either.

///

 Henry is no fool. He knows that they are being idiots. He knows they probably had one of those ‘possible True Love alert’ moments that all of Killian’s True Love couples have at some point in the books and probably got all freaked out because he can’t remember his mom dating anybody like ever and Killian doesn’t look like he even knows how to use the word ‘date’ correctly.

The problem is that Henry has no one to bet against on who will break first.

The bigger problem is that he has no one to help him figure out when he should stop humouring them and step in.

///

 She is high on life. Yup, Emma Swan is actually feeling pretty damn good about herself for once.

She caught her perp with minimum effort for a maximum paycheck. Henry got an A on the art project she helped him prepare. There is a new pizza place down the street and it is divine. Her kid has great taste and chose her favourite Indiana Jones movie for tonight and then promptly went to bed after it with almost no whining at all.

Oh, and she is having a great hair day.

Realistically it’s probably not much. But dammit, Emma feels good about herself. She feels good enough to pick up her phone and hit Killian Jones’ name. More impressive yet, she feels good enough not to hang up as it starts ringing.

For once she feels good enough to shut up the thought of ‘well, he was obviously just trying to get into your pants and then that didn’t happen so it’s-

“Swan?”

She almost swallows her fucking tongue. Literally. And people actually do that. And Emma thinks she might have a slight phobia of swallowing her tongue. And why is she thinking about that now?

“Emma?”

“Are you afraid of swallowing your tongue?”

“Are- I beg your pardon?”

Pillow in the corner of the couch, meet Emma’s face.

“Emma?”

“Yup. Hey. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry. I mean… Well, no, I just… Umm…”

“Swan, I-“

“Did we break up?”

Pillow, kindly suffocate Emma to death.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Stop begging and actually answer one of my questions!”

“Right. Sorry. I am. Sorry. I’m very sorry, love. We did not break up. I mean, if we are- If you thought we were- Not that I didn’t- I mean- Bloody hell!”

“Yeah, I thought we were.”

“Right. Good. That’s… me too. So we still are. We didn’t, we definitely didn’t break up.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Pillow, muffle any whiny sounds Emma might make.

“I just wanted to give you some time… space.”

“We live in different cities.”

“Right. I just wasn’t sure how happy you were about me just showing up in yours.”

“What?!”

“Well, I… well…”

Pillow, try not to die while Emma takes out her frustrations on you, you were kinda expensive.

“Killian, I… OK, I’m sorry, if I wasn’t... I just… No guy has spent time with me and Henry and had dinner with us and all that jazz.”

“Oh. Alright. I guess… I didn’t think you might have… not been seeing anyone for awhile as well.”

“No, I mean… never.”

“Never?”

“I mean, I have- of course, but… No one’s ever spent the day with us like that. Ever.”

“And I made you.”

“What? No. I mean- I- we wanted you to. I would’ve told you not to come, if I didn’t. I… I didn’t think it went that bad. I mean, I-”

“No. No, it didn’t! It was… I had a lovely time, Emma, I just…”

“Right. Well, me too.”

“That’s good. Good, we both enjoyed spending some time together.”

“Sounds like it.”

“That’s…”

Pillow, sorry for being catapulted across the room as Emma finally allows herself to fist-pump the air at Killian's quiet chuckle.

“So what was the other question?”

“Huh?”

“We’ve established that we haven’t broken up. So what was the other question that I was supposed to answer?”

“Oh. Uhhh… Oh, oh! Aren’t you afraid of swallowing your tongue? I don’t mean like getting tongue-tied but like literally swallowing your tongue. Just like-“

///

 He gets finding her on the couch. He gets the dead phone. He gets the empty cup of coffee. He gets the tangled hair and slight smile.

But for the life of him Henry can’t explain the decorative pillow thrown half across the hallway.

///

 Right, ok, this is not exactly how she ended up in front of Killian Jones’ house on Christmas Eve but… we’re getting there.

‘Patience is a virtue’ as Killian would say.

The ass.

#cs ff #cs au #cs fanfics #captain swan fanfiction #NTOF

[qqueenofhades]

Jack/Sam: "We're not going to die." Make of that what you will XD

Sutherland, Scotland

April 1748

The tiny, ancient, roofless church was the only shelter formiles, in the low ground between the rugged munros and towering stacks ofgranite, swept by lonely winds and open to the elements. It was the bleakestbloody place that Sam had ever seen; after leaving the last croft, they hadwalked for three days without encountering another human. Most unfortunately,the next human had been a redcoat patrol. Apparently they had made it up from Invernessand were making the rounds to ensure strict adherence to the Act ofProscription, the Dress Act, the Disarming Act, the Heritable JurisdictionsAct, and the other armada of punitive legislation that Parliament had passed inthe wake of the Jacobites’ defeat at Culloden two years ago, and no part of theHighlands was getting away from it. Nor were the redcoats terribly conscientiousabout checking whether a given Scottish croft had actually had a damn thing todo with Bonnie Prince Charlie before they commenced beating and burning theplace and shaking it down for any miserly half-pennies they could be arsed toseize. No wonder Jack had plenty to do.

That, however, had led them to their current place ofrefuge, and Sam wasn’t sure how much longer it would remain one. The night was bitterlycold, and Jack had been perched in the remnants of the roof beams for at leastan hour, tensely watching the redcoats’ camp half a mile down the glen, justvisible by the pinprick of its fire. They didn’t think the soldiers were going to march off in the middle of the nightinto the remote Scottish wilderness – they had heard howling from the highground earlier, there were wolves here – but they couldn’t be sure. Likewise,fugitives could claim sanctuary from their pursuers in an intact church, but itwas a point of contention as to whether that flimsy legal right extended to a ruinedone. They hadn’t had anything to eat in two days. Sam could practically feelhis stomach withering to a husk.

“Come down,” he said at last, his voice sounding loud in thehush. “I’m freezing.”

Jack glanced down at him with a wry smile. “I’m sorrythis is – well. What it is.”

“Funnily enough, I didn’t think that sneaking through theHighlands for you to perform secret medical assistance on people the Englishhave unjustly beat up was going to be glamorous.” Sam gingerly stretched hislegs, then stopped. “But down here by myself, it really is terrible.”

Jack sighed, his breath making cold silver clouds in thehalf-light, and stole a final look down the valley. “I don’t think they’removing. Hopefully we can sneak out of here in the morning.”

“If we don’t get eaten by wolves.” They had one rather balkyflintlock musket to their name – the carrying of all guns had been strictlyoutlawed in the Highlands, and they were running enough of a risk with that –and Sam didn’t see that being a terrible deterrence to a frothing pack,probably as hungry as the rest of this place. Periodic scars of smoke rose tothe horizon wherever the redcoats were burning fields and crofts, ruining thesubsistence harvest on which these people depended. For a moment, Sam felt thesame all-consuming hatred of the British that had driven his family, particularly hisgrandfather and then his father, in their war. Why do they always get to do this, and we can’t even really fight back?

“I promise.” Jack jumped down from the beam, landing with apuff of dust and dirt. “I will not let you get eaten by wolves or shot by redcoats.”

To Sam’s mind, this still left plenty of potential deaths,not least freezing solid, but he held his arms out, shivering, and Jack came tosit down close next to him, gathering Sam onto his lap and resting hischin on his head. He pulled his cloak around both of them, sharing whatmeager heat they had; they couldn’t risk a fire of their own. Finally he said, “Thankyou. For being – being here.”

Sam didn’t answer immediately, tracing a finger across Jack’schest. Despite the considerable and obvious drawbacks – viz. sitting in afreezing, roofless church up the arse-end of the Highlands, death of one sortor another too uncomfortably close at hand – he didn’t want to be anywhereelse, not really. Even as nice as warm Georgia sounded – hell, even drizzlyEdinburgh would be a sight for sore eyes – here was where Jack was. Here washim helping people who had nothing else, being the most gentle and patient andempathetic that Sam had ever seen him, putting that medical education to work.He didn’t want to go. Not now. Not ever.

Something that was almost definitely a wolf howled. Not faroff.

“If we…” Sam didn’t know what he was asking, exactly,but it bubbled to his lips. “If we do die tonight…”

“We’re not going to die.” Jack looked down at him fiercely. “Remember?”

“Aye, but…” Sam threaded their cold fingers together,feeling Jack’s calluses, the long, elegant hands he loved so well, that couldsew up a little girl’s hands torn by a spindle or a young man on the wrong endof a redcoat’s musket. “I’d like to die as your…well. Yours.”

“You are mine.” Jack kissed his hair lightly. “And I’myours. Always.”

“Yes, but…” Sam glanced up at their surroundings – thestark, haunted church open to the sky, the altar crumbling to stones and moss,the ghosts of long-ago worshipers – Viking raiders from Orkney, perhaps, ormedieval lords in their tunics and brooches, anyone else who had foundthemselves here in the night and mist and wilds. “We are in a church. And forbloody sure nobody else is going to do it for us, so…”

“Sam.” Jack put a hand under his chin. “What are you asking?”

“Will you…” Sam screwed up all his courage, pushing pastthe small, frightened part of him that always expected rejection, even andespecially from someone he loved past all reason, to distraction, to here, tothis. “Will you marry me?”

Jack stared at him, then laughed in surprise. “Marry you,eh?”

“I just thought… it’s stupid, but – ”

Jack cut him off, as he could tend to do when Sam startedprattling, with a firm and comprehensive kiss. It felt somewhat less cold whenthey finally pulled apart, though not to do with any improvement in the weather,as Jack shifted Sam off his lap and tugged him to his feet, as they stoodrather self-consciously before the broken altar. They stared at each other fora long moment, and then Jack cleared his throat. “Do you, Samuel James Jones,take me, Jack Bellamy, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to holdfrom this day forward, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as longas we both should live?”

“Yes.” Sam had never heard anything he needed to think aboutless, wanted to say it again. “I do. I do. I do.”

Jack smiled at him gently, as if reminding him that it onlytook one, and Sam steadied himself. “Do you, Jack Bellamy, take me, SamuelJames Jones, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from thisday forward, for richer or poorer, in sick – sickness and in health, as long as.. . we both… we both should live?”

Jack looked at him as if trying to memorize his face,everything about this. This, after all, was not his first wedding – he hadmarried Charlotte Goode in a Marylebone parish church in May 1738, as part of aneffort for both of them to escape London and try to reunite with Charlotte’sreal lover, Alix St. Clair – and Sam had to fight a brief fear that of coursethat one would have been better somehow. Realer, deeper, truer, even thoughJack and Charlotte had had their marriage cordially annulled seven years ago,and had never been lovers in a carnal sense. But it was with face and eyes andvoice and breath full of Sam that Jack said tenderly, “I do.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, having ageneral recollection that there was usually more to weddings – prayers andpronouncements, blessings and vows, the affirmation of witnesses, a lot oftaradiddle from the priest about why the estate of matrimony had been created,so on and so forth. But there was nothing familiar about this, nothing ordinaryor usual, nothing sanctioned by the church or the world at large, and so,somehow and simply, that was enough. To pledge their troth and make theirpromise, the affirmation of a life they had already been living for the betterpart of a decade already. There was not really just one of them anymore, orrather there was, but as two halves of a whole, rather than any separatecreature. This was all they needed.

At last, as the moon broke out from behind an anvil of cloudand shone down on them in a soft silver light, Sam Jones and Jack Bellamy steppedforward, took hold of each other’s faces, and kissed, soft and musingly andsweet and slow, in joy and grief at once. They pulled back, but only to restcheeks and noses and foreheads together, to kiss again, and stand there likeone of the church’s broken pillars. They grinned at each other shakily, morethan a little tearily, and Jack brought Sam’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “God,”he said roughly. “God, I love you.”

Sam didn’t even want to answer just yet, wanted to hold thewords against his heart, as they stood there in each other’s arms, then sankback down into the dubious shelter of the broken bricks. It was not much of awedding night, and trying to turn it into one would probably result in severalpertinent bits being frozen off, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was this, andalways had. Me. Mine. Ours.

Sam Jones-Bellamy laid his head against his husband’sshoulder, and waited for eternity.

#jack x sam #trat #the rose and thorn #extasiswings #ask

[ijustwant2write]

Rebellious-Jax Teller x Reader One Shot

(GIF credit to owner)

(A/N: requested by annonymous: You write smut right?? If so can I get some angry Jax Teller smut? 🙈 x)

Masterlist

Summary: Jax’s old lady does many favours for the club, what with being an outlaw herself. However, she constantly puts herself in danger, worrying him; but she will not sit idly by, causing more and more arguments.

Characters: Jax Teller x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)= Your name (Y/L/N)= Your last name

Warnings: Sexual themes (obviously) and swearing

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

As I entered the clubhouse, I had many eyes on me, though a lot of smiles too. Digging into my handbag, I pulled out a wad of cash, dropping it onto the table in front of my boyfriend.

“There’s the payment, it took a little persuasion but no one got hurt.” I said as I sat next to Jax.

“You’re one heck of a lady Miss (Y/L/N).” Tig passed me a beer.

“Why thank you. Just doing my part.”

“You didn’t need to do that, babe. I could have easily gone myself.” Jax wrapped an arm around me, kissing me as he finished his sentence.

“It was an easy job. You shouldn’t have to go out there to just collect money.”

“Aye, let the lass have a bit of fun.” Chibs pulled up a chair.

“If you haven’t noticed, she’s not a member, she’s my girlfriend.”

“She is still here.” I pointed out.

“Just trying to look out for you.”

“Don’t worry so much, Jax. You’ll get wrinkles sooner than you should. Don’t want to ruin that face of yours now.”

The club was relatively quiet on activity for the rest of the day. Everyone just sat around drinking, played pool or darts. It was nice to be with the guys, they were so different to what people thought about them. I fit in well too, having grown up in a biker club myself. I knew the way things were handled which is why I helped out with little tasks such as the payments. Jax would never let me get into real danger.

“There’s a fight going on at Cara Cara again, just got the call.” Juice sighed out as he walked in.

“What kind?” Jax asked.

“Some guy waltzed in like he owned the place, claims that one of the girls invited him there. None of them said they did, some recognised him from their night out.”

“Right, I’ll go.” I offered as I stood.

“Like hell you are.” Jax pulled me back down.

With my mouth slightly agape, I pushed his hand off me.“I always deal with these things, why are you stopping me?”

“Because you shouldn’t be doing our dirty work. Opie, Juice, you go. Make sure it gets sorted.”

“Guys, wait for me-”

“Did you not just hear me?”

“Yes but I’ve chosen to ignore you. It’s like you said Jax, I’m not a member of this club, meaning that I don’t have to do as you say.” I leapt up, walking towards the boys who were leaving.

“You’re still my old lady though.”

“You sure about that?”

I slammed the door behind me, ignoring Juice and Opie’s shocked faces. How dare Jax talk to me that way! He knew how independent I was. I wasn’t going to stay stuck at home cooking and cleaning whilst he went out and had all the fun. Even my own family let me do stuff like this. The boys didn’t questions me or tell me to go back, they knew better than that. Due to walking so fast, I had made it to my bike well before the others. As I strapped on my helmet, I caught A glimpse of Jax snapping at his friends before watching me leave the lot. Screw him.

Arriving at Cara Cara first, I went straight inside, ready to beat the man’s ass. I could hear the commotion as I walked in, some of the girls looking relieved to see me. They pointed me to where the problem was occurring. Pushing through the cluster of girls in their underwear (or less), I sighed as I saw who was the source of the problem. Ima, Luanne and the man were arguing loudly, no one making sense because of the noise. I whistled loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“You’re going to have to leave. I don’t care why you’re here, just get out.” I demanded.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You can’t speak to me like that.”

“My old man owns this place and he’s on his way right now. I would suggest that you leave.”

“Oh really?”

“Maybe you’ve heard of the Sons Of Anarchy, yeah, the president is my boyfriend.”

Opie suddenly burst through, grabbing the man by the collar of his t-shirt. He roughly dragged the guy outside, not caring about the scene he was causing. I groaned, they couldn’t settle this any other way. Running after them, I froze as I saw Jax beating him up. It wasn’t a surprise to see him like this; unfortunately I had seen worse from him. Opie managed to pull Jax away, the man scrambling to his feet before running away.

“I had that under control Jax! I don’t need you to protect me all the time!” I shouted.

His knuckles were bloody.“Give it a rest, (Y/N). Can you not just do as you’re told for once?”

“You treat me like some helpless, little girl. I’m sick of it.”

“Go home. We’ll talk then.”

“We’re talking now-”

“Home.”

For the third time that day, I was ultimately embarrassed by my boyfriend. Although I could have easily stayed there all day and argued, I knew that we had to sort this out. We rarely fought, it felt horrible when we did though.

Trying not to speed down the streets, I felt how tense my body was, my hands gripping the handle bars. It was hard not to kick over my bike in anger as I pulled into the driveway. I waited only five or so minutes in the house before Jax arrived, making his presence known by slamming the door. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I watched as he angrily walked to me, standing in front and very close to me.

“What the hell is wrong with you today?” he dived straight in.

“Me? What about you?! Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?!”

“You keep putting yourself in dangerous situations and it’s making me worry!”

“I do all of this for you! Do you see any other girlfriends or wives doing that?”

“No, which they shouldn’t be.”

“Jax, you know I’m careful-”

“But you’re not!”

This argument was getting no where. Both of us were stubborn, never backing down. But at this moment, it seemed that we both had the same idea in our heads, both of us wanting it. After a few seconds of staring at each other, each of us lunged forward, hands gripping onto clothes as we started to make out. It was rough, mostly lust, though of course there was still love in there.

He pushed my back further into the countertop, picking me up before dropping me on it. Using my legs, I pulled him into me, starting to undress him as my lips made their way down his neck. Jax started groaning, his burly hands travelling up my thighs hastily. His shirt was now off, and it was my hands that started to feel his chiseled torso. His hands got tangled in my hair before pulling it back.

“You think you can tell me what to do?” he said through gritted teeth.

“What have I been doing up till now?” I smirked.

I could see that he was beginning to get frustrated. I wasn’t going to help him by undressing myself, this was the most power I had over him. Biting my lip, I watched as he fumbled with my shirt, trying to tug it off.

“Why won’t this fucking thing come off?” he grunted.

“Because it’s a bodysuit. You may have to remove one more article of clothing before-” I shrieked in shock before giggling as Jax immediately headed for my jeans. As soon as they were off, I thought I would do him a favour and help out a little, but this would be the only time. Revealing my bare chest under my bodysuit, I felt great when his eyes widened, it never got old. His hands went straight to my crotch, running me quickly but I would show no reaction.

“So what, you’re just going to fuck me right here in the kitchen? Where we eat?”

“Like I’m going to listen to anything you say right now.” he was busy trying to take his pants off.

“We’re still arguing?” I was just teasing him now.

However, I was too busy coming up with witty remaks to realise that he was now naked, slamming himself into me without warning. I let out a loud cry of surprise and pleasure, laughing a little afterwards. Leaning back on my elbows, I started to roll my hips, building up the intense feeling inside me. Jax had other ideas.

“What the fuck, why aren’t you doing anything?” I breathed out, trying to create friction between us.

It was his turn to smirk.“Cause you need to be taught a lesson darlin’.”

#Sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader #jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller x reader #opie winston #opie winston x reader #opie winston imagine #chibs telford #chibs telford imagine #chibs telford x reader #gemma teller #clay morrow #tig trager #tig trager imagine #tig trager x reader #juice ortiz #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #happy lowman #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman x reader #bobby munson #piney winston #kip epps #half-sack

[slushblock]

Fell - Chapter 8 - Awakening

Thank you all who are still here for sticking with me through this self-indulgent, overly dramatic backstory. :>

Little is more jarring than expecting to be transported somewhere, only to not be.

In the case of Axl and Aura, they had become accustomed to returning to their respective, homey rooms when using their mirrors. They were so panicked that they didn’t realize the mirrors were reflecting something else; the area where they’d first appeared in the world.

Only it was drenched in blood.

“O-oh my g- what… what?!” Axl was the first to voice his shock at this turn, taking a few steps in place in a vain attempt to shake off the squelchy, sticky red grass.

Aura looked around, trying to figure out what went wrong. She didn’t like the way the sky had darkened; it felt similar to the atmosphere of the corruption. She turned around, “Why wouldn’t we- oh… oh no,” she held up a hand, pointing in the direction of their house, “L-look!”

Thankfully, Axl had the foresight to build their manor not very far from their starting location. That convenience had saved Aura’s life when she first appeared. Not obscured by rain as it was back then, it was clearly visible between the rapidly wilting trees.

The vicious gash that was torn through the front of it was also visible, ripping the workroom in half and leaving gaping holes in both their bedrooms, as well as the storage room and stairwell.

“What the Hell did that?!” Axl choked, nearly dropping his mirror as he ran off towards his destroyed handiwork. As the two got closer, it became more and more obvious from the directionality of the malformed landscape that whatever had bloodied the ground and dying trees was responsible for the structural damage to the building. To accent the damage, there was a strange liquid strewn about, with the consistency of blood and the appearance of glowing, molten gold.

“Okay… so… this… th-this must be the spirit that the dryad mentioned when she said… blood,” Aura gulped, looking at the damage and, more intently, at the bizarre ichor. As tempting as it was, she refused to touch it. Much to her surprise, even Axl put his impulsiveness aside to avoid it; something about it just felt wrong, even without making physical contact.

Axl cursed under his breath, flipping the mask of his helmet up to get a better look, face etched with worry, “I… I hope there’s… I hope nobody-”

“Where the Hell were you guys?!”

The voice came from upstairs and both Aura and Axl’s attention snapped upward to see a fellow descending the dilapidated stairs. With dark skin, gray hair, and a long coat over a glittering bandolier, they recognized him as the arms dealer who had taken up residence shortly after Aura moved in. Neither had done much business with him, but Ren certainly had.

“What happened!?” Despite his obvious panic, Axl seemed somewhat relieved that there were survivors who seemed unharmed.

“Beats me! We were minding our own business when suddenly some bright red light appeared outside!” The arms dealer shouted down, as a few other tenants appeared from their rooms behind him, clearly shaken,  “Whatever made it was far away, but then tore right through the place. Some huge monster we’ve never seen before! Just… this weird hulk of mismatched bodyparts!” He reached down and picked up the gun at his feet; the same shark-based model that Ren used against the giant, cursed skeleton at the dungeon, “We managed to fight it off, and it went off that way,” he pointed northwest, with a slightly cocky smirk, “I guess no amount of teeth can handle these guns-”

“Don’t take so much credit… I don’t think it wanted to fight. It looked scared even as it did,” murmured a red-clad man as he stowed a strange looking book in his coat. The adventurers almost didn’t recognize him as the old man from the dungeon. After moving in, he’d done quite the job of getting cleaned up, his matted beard and hair trimmed to compliment his dapper clothes. Despite that, he was still as grave and serious as ever, “And perhaps rightfully so… The land twisted when those lights emerged from underground, and it must be something truly terrible to frighten a beast that grisly… We’d probably best be getting to safety, ourselves.”

Axl shook his head, biting his lip. The idea that things were even more twisted than before didn’t sit well with him, and though the bloodied ground was already proof enough, he refused to believe it, “No… this wasn’t supposed to… I didn’t…” He took a deep breath and held it, closing his eyes tightly for a moment and really hoping he’d wake up from whatever was happening. When that failed, he let the air out sharply, “I’m heading upstairs. I need to see this for myself.”

Axl left them behind to run for the watchtower he’d installed, as fast as his heavy armor would allow him. Aura, much more lightly clad, kept pace with far less effort. The whole structure creaked ominously, a decent chunk taken out of its side, but still structurally sound enough to not collapse beneath them as they observed the damage to the landscape.

Much to their dismay, the corruption to the east had vastly increased in size, even past the boundaries they had created when they went through with the dryad’s magic powder to push it back.

That wasn’t all, however. To the northwest, the threatened green of the forest faded into light blue fields and pale trees with leaves of many colors. Glowing crystals peeked up through the ground, especially around the pearly exposed stone. Likewise to the southwest was another unknown land, full of tones of flesh and blood, resembling the withered vegetation by their house that had apparently been left by the monster the tenants described. However, it seemed to stop rather abruptly at the house, rather than continuing on in the direction the monster purportedly vanished.

“I… I don’t like this…” Aura paled, “Just one thing was bad enough…”

“Should have seen it coming…” Axl hunched over, slamming a fist into the stone railing, “Damn it! Why?”

“All right… yeah, this… this was a huge mistake,” Aura tried to cover up her shaking voice, “I think… I think we should go off that way,” she pointed towards the colorful, jewel-encrusted landscape, “That might be the home of the ‘light’ you were looking for… and the jungle is just beyond it. The dryad said we’d be safe th-”

Axl shook his head, gritting his teeth, “You go… I need to find Ren.” He pushed himself back from the railing, holding his head in one hand before looking up, “He said he wanted answers from that wall… well, now I want answers from him.”

Aura glared at him, holding up her hands, “Are you crazy?!”

“...Yes?” Came the incredulous response as Axl held his hands up almost in mirror to hers, “I… thought that was established?”

Something about that struck a faint sense of familiarity and Aura looked away, irritated, “...Shut up,” she attempted to dismiss, before glaring back at Axl, “You don’t even know where he lives!”

Axl rubbed his forehead, trying to itch his hairline as best he could with his helmet in the way, “Well, he never appeared here, and his face looked like it got screwed up by the Corruption… I think it’s safe to say that’s where he was living, if he was only getting worse...”

“You’re going back there… at a time like this,” Aura groaned loudly as she leaned back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling, “Gods, you really are the biggest moron.” After a moment, though, she looked down at Axl with a sigh, “And you know what? So am I. Because at this point? I need to know, too.”

Axl was torn between feeling grateful and phenomenally guilty, but managed to nod with a weak grin as he put his mask down,”Th-thank you.”

They descended the tower, glancing back momentarily to watch as the remaining tenants discussed their own departure, before heading off towards the darkened landscape.

Apart from having spread beyond its old boundaries, the rocks were somehow more twisted, the brambles far more menacing, and the trees looking far less like anything proper trees should look like, with black,fang-like thorns bursting from the bark in place of branches. Even the usual floating gasbags seemed a lot larger and more threatening, with more mandibles and eyes, and dripping putrid fluids.

Even the common slimes had become corrupted by the landscape, seething with violet toxins. Some even mutated wings to fly. The far-reaching grip of the shadow’s malevolence only grew, and the two adventurers could feel it as they carved their way through the new horrors and they could only feel that they would not have succeeded without one anothers’ support.

They took a moment for a breather in one of the chasms, away from the things that could assault them from above. At their feet was the body of a large worm, lined with eyes, like a more direct offspring of the largest one - which the Guide had called the Eater of Worlds - they had battled what felt like ages ago. It bled putrid slime laced with a strange, glowing green that flecked up like flames. They refused to get anywhere near it.  “Where… would he have been hiding all this time…” Axl gasped for breath, the weight of fighting things with a large sword while in heavy armor so soon after the fight with the wall beginning to really wear on him. He coughed, “It can’t have been somewhere that well-hidden.. He had to be able to get in and out easily.”

Aura took a moment to consider the question before pounding a fist into an empty palm, “...Why not try his elevator?” She pointed off in the approximate direction of the tunnel they’d revealed prior, “There were hidden doors all over the place that we had no idea how to open…”

“That’s… actually a really good idea,” Axl’s eyes went wide at the realization, pretending to snap his fingers despite not being able to even without wearing metal gauntlets, “What better place to hide something… than behind something in plain sight that the people you’re hiding it from would not want to break?” He cringed slightly, “That… paints an even more specific picture of why he was so angry when that worm tore through the place and damaged it back then.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice analysis,” Aura waved, looking around for any monsters as she began to head in that direction, “I think what’s going to happen now is way more important.”

A few large slimes and another one of the dripping, oversized rotbags later, they found the exposed brick. While patched up, Ren had made no attempt to cover it more than that. They already knew where it was, and for all intents and purposes they had been allies leading up to that point.

Either that, or he wanted them to find it again.

“Here goes nothing,” Axl mumbled as he pulled out his pick, glowing with molten fire. Even rebuilt and reinforced, the bricks crumbled under the powerful tool in one effortless swing, revealing the tube down. “Now… where would he keep an entrance to his place…”

Aura pointed upward, “Why not the top?”

Axl looked up, then shrugged, “Well, no better place to start.” Grappling to the side with his own hook, he scaled his way up to the top, taking his pick in hand and striking the brick there. He had to shield himself slightly from the falling debris. Beyond it was solid, corrupt rock, to which the chain leading down was fixed. Axl frowned, taking the chain and striking the wall where he had latched on. More ebonstone. He turned at a right angle and swung again.

Jackpot.

The brick caved to reveal a similarly bricked passage, with a planked wooden floor of an unusual hue reminiscent of the trees found dotting the corrupt landscape. Axl looked down and gestured to Aura that he’d found something, before moving to step into the new hallway. Aura followed him in with her own vine-crafted hooks, looking just as curious as she was unsettled.

The hallway wasn’t terribly long, opening up into a very sparse, drab bunker of sorts. Had it not been for the stone brick, the dark wood of the floor, lack of windows, and poor lighting, it would have felt very similar to their own rooms, but stripped down to a utilitarian bareness. A bed, a dresser, a table, a chair. At the back, stairs led both up and down to two other rooms. There were no other doors, but that wasn’t surprising; the large man did have a thing for hidden passages.

“Huh..,” Axl only barely resisted the urge to say something incredibly redundant like ‘so this is where he lived,’ instead opting to flip his mask up for visibility and carefully walking toward the stairs. Up top, he could already make out the telltale sound of a crackling furnace; most likely a workroom, not unlike their own, situated above to more easily vent the smoke. He ascended just enough to get a clear look, verifying his expectations; almost everything he thought would be there, apart from a more advanced furnace from the underworld. The only difference is it was more claustrophobically clustered together on sequences of platforms and benches, with an entire wall made up of meticulously labeled storage chests.

Scowling a bit at the conditions the ex-military adventurer had subjected himself to, Axl turned to head down the stairs in the other direction. It led down to yet another hallway, this one dark and significantly longer and terminating in a single room.  Aura was already there, eyes wide at what was stored there, which would have been dimly lit with only a faint purple light if not for her torch. Axl took in a sharp breath.

It looked like some kind of macabre art gallery, or perhaps museum. The wall before them was lined with shelves containing a great many artifacts of varying sorts, including one of the toothy ‘altars’ they’d found in the chasms, sitting conspicuously on bare ebonstone that had been built around.. Most prominently, though, was the wall to their left, which was made up almost entirely of a large mural that looked right out of some kind of prophecy-laden ancient tomb. Whether Ren had found it here and built his home around it, or somehow managed to transport it here from elsewhere, neither mattered as much as the fact that it existed at all.

Just being there filled the adventurers with a single, all-encompassing thought.

This is it. The beginning of the end.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Axl squinted in the low light. He arched a brow, squinted again, then took his glasses off to wipe them, only to realize his armor didn’t really have any good cloth on it for doing so. With a groan he rolled his eyes and put his glasses back on, “Stupid outdated prescription. Can’t really see this thing clearly unless I put my face right up to it-”

He was interrupted mid-thought by a strange feeling, as if the very air of the room had trembled and thrummed. Aura felt it too and shivered, but remained fixated on the mural.

“You’re not missing much, it’s mostly faded anyway,” Aura mumbled, holding her torch towards it to light it up a little better, “There… really isn’t much to make out…” she frowned, “The writing on it looks similar to something I’ve seen on the stuff the goblins had.” She shuddered. She wasn’t particularly fond of that memory. The goblins appeared out of nowhere not long after they’d awakened the Eater of Worlds - and attacked in great numbers one day. While they’d managed to fend them off, it was a huge hassle, lead to more than a single death for both adventurers, and the brutish creatures were just as strong and resourceful as they were seemingly cruel.

Shaking the thought from her head, she continued, “Hell if I can read it, though. Aside that, I see something that looks like… something like falling stars. I can kind of see figures? I don’t know if they’re the stars themselves or something else.” The deep vibration cut her off again, and she nearly pulled herself away to look for its source, but not before recounting what little she could make out to Axl, “There was some kind of battle, obviously… I can’t tell if this is supposed to be the stars fighting each other, or joining together to fight something else… and the only other bit that I recognize is the wall of flesh in Hell. It looks like those stars were locked up inside of it?” She turned to Axl, “So… I guess we freed those stars?”

“Not any sort of stars I’ve ever read about… I don’t get it… but then again, what ever made sense here?” He half-smiled. It didn’t last, though. The room thrummed again, and Axl narrowed his eyes, turning around, “What is causing that-..?” He looked around at the other objects scattered about. There were quite a few, ranging from mundane things like books and scrolls, to much more threatening artifacts that radiated power, not unlike that from his sword. In fact, an open scroll next to the strange altar appeared to have some kind of instruction on it, and if the illustrations were any indication, explained how Ren knew to craft the dark weapon. How he read the indecipherable scrawl on it, though, was a matter of some worry.

The scroll barely received more than a glance, as attention was drawn away from it quickly by the most obvious of the objects in the room aside the mural.  Floating opposite the mural’s wall was a sphere, much like one of the dark, pearl-like orbs in the chasms, only inlaid with silvery runes and ornamented with twisting gold accents. There were large cracks lacing through the shiny dark surface. Occasionally, the orb would shudder, filling the room with that bone-chilling rumble, an unnatural green light glimmering from within, flecking sickly embers as the cracks grew in size and number.

Axl could feel his insides twist. The orb emitted such a feeling of dread, such a profound sense of wrong with each pulse. He could hear his own voice mocking him in the back of his mind in a way that he couldn’t shake. It repeated the thought in his head from the moment he entered, but this time, added a much more profound accusation.

This is it. The beginning of the end. AND YOU HELPED MAKE IT POSSIBLE.

He growled at the thought. He had no idea! Yes, he was stupid to trust this man, but… he had his own reasons for going through with this! Either would have done it without the help… eventually, at least.

Strangely, Aura seemed to be having those same initial thoughts. She took a step back, holding the sides of her head as she quietly whispered to herself, “No… no… I… I never agreed to… I was just...” Even her hornets seemed worried.

Axl groaned at the continuing faint nagging of those accusatory thoughts as he looked around at the other artifacts. Next to the orb was another conspicuous item. At first it appeared to be another of those strange, spiky altars, only much narrower, more like a pedestal than a plinth. Floating between those teeth was a single eye.

Axl leaned close to get a better look, then recoiled, “O-oh…”

It was just a normal, healthy human eye, somehow still dripping with fresh blood. After all the oversized demon eyes swarming amongst the zombies at night, the colossal eyes with teeth, and even the floating, rotting gas-bag eyes they’d seen so frequently in the corruption, to see a regular eye with a clean white sclera and light brown iris was by and large the most upsetting thing they could have expected to stumble upon.

“O-oh my gods…” Aura put her hand over her mouth, “Do you think that’s-?”

“That… must be how he got the scar…” Axl looked like he was going to be sick, which was really something considering the things he’d seen and done, “But if his eye is here, then what-”

Suddenly, the eye turned sharply in place to look right at them, causing them both to jump.

Almost as if on cue, a wet, crunching sound alerted the two to an approaching figure from down the hall. The poor light only allowed them to see a vague and clearly inhuman shape, lumbering towards them with an awkward gait on four splayed, uneven legs. Its entire body twitched and jerked with each deliberate step. Axl hissed and closed his mask as both drew weapons in preparation for a fight.

The thing was horrific, a twisted bloat of rotten meat that would have been familiar had it been in the shape of floating bags of air or long, burrowing worms. Instead, it had an almost humanoid torso lined with scratching, vestigial insectoid limbs down its sides and emerging from its broad shoulders. The massive, cyclopean eye between a lopsided pair of mandibles on the end of its half-elongated, heavy neck was almost covered up by the sickeningly familiar, pointed exoskeleton that barely managed to contain the creature’s twisted body.

That exoskeleton was Ren’s armor.

“I knew you’d come,” it rasped, voice completely gone and replaced by a painfully grating hiss, “It only took you this long… all the better” it extended its neck, the sharp teeth in its mouth bared in a threatening smile,  “I doubt you would have helped me if you knew about all this sooner.”

Axl was at a complete loss for words, his silence the only thing that could express what his masked face could not. Aura was much less stunned as she stepped forward, sword drawn and pointing towards the creature before them, “What the Hell is- what have you been hiding from us?!”

“Why ask, when you can behold?” The creature turned to gesture at the cracked orb. The glow within it flared up as it shook again, vibrating the very air in the room, “Behold the new gods of this world!” The monster turned its hand upward, bony claws curling up slowly before clenching into a tight fist, “Sleeping for so long, power locked away… but one managed to awaken.” It opened its hand, keeping the other conspicuously closed as it held them upward in front of it, “Managed to call out. And now, with our help,” it boomed a sick laugh as it pointed, “with your help...  they all have enough power to break free!”

At that point, Axl definitely felt something wrong about the way Ren added ‘with your help.’ It was almost like his own mind had shouted the words in unison. Why would he think that? He glanced at Aura, who seemed to have the same doubts, quietly muttering “No… no…” to herself over and over.

Without warning, the orb burst, its physical shell disintegrating almost entirely in the emerging green flames, leaving behind a glowing green sphere which hovered in its place. It felt like it was staring at them. Staring into their souls.

Ren let out a bellowing laugh, opening his other hand. In the oversized, mutated palm was his icy mirror, looking so small and delicate by comparison. He cried out triumphantly, “Why cling to the mirror’s unfulfilled promise when darkness holds the single truth!” The younger adventurers could swear they heard their own voices in their heads echoing those words.

Holding the mirror above his head in both hands, Ren shattered it.

The moment it broke, shards hitting the ground like a chorus of tiny bells, the green sphere flared up, launching itself upward and into the ceiling, boring its way towards the surface. The world began to shake. First a low rumble, but quickly escalating to such a degree that everything fell from the shelves and the house itself began to crumble and tear apart at the seams. The hidden bunker split open to reveal newly-cracked chasms to the surface.

To make matters worse, massive worms could be seen pushing the ground apart, splitting it further. They were far larger than even the Eater of Worlds, perhaps even twice the girth, and lined with bony, centipede-like legs that propelled it through the corrupt stone and dirt. High above, silhouetted against the sickly sky, was the shadow of something that dwarfed any creature they’d seen.

Unfortunately, the only safe way out of the crumbling earth was up towards it. Or so they thought, minds racing in panic and not stopping to consider the irrationality of those thoughts.

Get to the surface. It’s the only way. Climb. CLIMB.

Not paying any heed to the cackling Ren, Axl and Aura didn’t even realize that they could have simply pulled out their mirrors to escape, instead opting for their grappling hooks. They ascended just in time for the floor to fall out from under them, dropping the mural and everything else but the strange, floating altar into an abyssal trench with no visible bottom. Axl looked down, flipping his visor up just long enough to make sure his impacted visibility from it wasn’t playing tricks on him. He paled, looking mortified as he quickly put the mask back down again and started climbing.

“It’s weird to see you afraid of dying for once since-” Aura didn’t think much before she said it. The threat of the moment drew it out of her without guilt as she followed closely behind, far more mobile with her multiple, longer vine hooks.

“No!” he shot back, cutting her off, his initial annoyance immediately replaced by the honest panic of the situation, “I’m not afraid of dying here… I’m afraid of being buried alive in this stuff, or falling into that pit!” As they grappled ever higher, he added, “Who knows how long we’d be stuck…” He shuddered at the thought, “I… I don’t want to end up like Ren!”

If she had any doubts of how dire things were, Aura certainly lost them with that statement. Seeing what someone with Ren’s constitution had become after so much willful exposure to the atmosphere of the twisted landscape… she didn’t want to think about being trapped in it. She didn’t want to think about being trapped at all. The mirror didn’t even come to mind. All that did was a single thought.

CLIMB.

They did so. The giant worms around them continued to swirl and burrow endlessly. The only blessing was that the endless movement was consistent, with no sudden worm heads to emerge and attack them to dislodge them from their path. It was easy enough to plan a route around them, even with the crumbling rock. Eventually, they made it to the surface.

It put them face to face with an abomination.

At the end of the seemingly infinite worm body was a vaguely humanoid shape, albeit split in half down the middle into a massive vertical jaw filled with sharp teeth. Its heavy, muscular arms ended with snapping, slavering worm mouths for hands. Giant eyes set into it shoulders, as well as one in the middle of its chest. Glowing green tendrils writhed from all of its mouths. For all the awe it inspired, they almost didn’t notice that Ren had crawled up from the pit after them, standing at the ‘foot’ of the titan. At least, not until he spoke.

“Isn’t it glorious!?” Ren gestured upward, reveling. Their thoughts echoed with their own voices as he continued to ramble, intrusive words that continued to gnaw at both their minds. As they beheld the massive, terrible beast before them, their thoughts were replaced by an all-consuming despair.

Why fight it? The darkness IS the only true path forward. It’s the only way.

Axl shook his head. There was no way he was thinking that, was he? How was that possible, if the creature that was Ren was also saying those words out loud? Was he saying those words out loud? It was becoming very difficult to tell. Axl held the sides of his head, grinding his teeth together. He glanced over at Aura, whose face was etched with the signs of an identical inner struggle. Yet the thoughts wouldn’t abate.

The darkness will devour everything, so why fight it and suffer?

WHY NOT JOIN IT AND REJOICE?

Aura suddenly screeched, her voice the most piercing Axl had ever heard, “Get out of my head! GET OUT! GET OUT!!” For the first time since he’d met her, Aura’s eyes welled with tears, if faintly, “We can’t stay… we can’t stay..!” She repeated to herself, over and over as she clutched the sides of her head, “The jungle is safe… The jungle is safe! The jungle is safe!!”

Without warning, she turned and ran, tears streaming from wide eyes. Ran, off in the direction of the jungle whose protection she was promised, past the blue fields and pink rivers of the newly blossomed hallowed ground.

“No-! Aura-!” Axl whirled, voice so panicked it began to crack, ”NO! I CAN’T DO THIS BY MYSELF-!” But it was too late. She couldn’t hear his desperation for her own, and soon Axl was left to slowly turn, to look up at the behemoth he was now facing down alone, and the bitter, choking laughter of its servant. His heart dropped into his stomach and he would have sworn he could feel it burning.

His mind screamed at the hopelessness of it all. He turned to run after her.

This is it. The pointless culmination of so much hard work.

“...No..,” he tried to fend off those intrusive thoughts. After all that work, there had to be something left. He barely got a few strides before he slowed.

DARKNESS IS ALL THAT IS LEFT. ALL THAT IS LEFT. ALL THAT IS LEFT IS TO JOIN IT.

That snapped him out of it. There was NO way he was thinking that himself! He punched himself in the side of his head hard enough to jar his vision for a moment before he looked up at the enormous abomination, and its new, equally twisted servant. It all made sense. The way those thoughts echoed in his head while Ren - or what was left of him - spoke.

That monster above them… The projection of will… That was its way of communicating! It used it to overwhelm weak and weary hearts! Was that how it got Ren in the first place? By making the lost man believe that darkness was the only course of action when all other hope was lost? Axl cringed through the mental turmoil, using all of his effort to push those thoughts from his mind, “No… not this time,” he hissed to himself, “I can’t give up… not now.”

Ren laughed, that same horrible choking noise from before, “I’ll give you this, you may be just as big a nutjob as I’ve given you credit for, but as far as nuts go you’re a tough one to crack.” He laughed again, “Still, what good do you think you can do? You already know in your heart; the strongest weapon you have was forged by this darkness,” he gestured with his arms to everything around them, “You accepted that gift so readily before…” The twisted servant narrowed its eye sinisterly, “...why not now?”

Axl looked down at the ground with a single, dedicated sigh. He reached into his bag and held up the dark sword that was gifted to him by the beast before him… and threw it aside, “I’m done fighting darkness with darkness,” he mumbled, instead brandishing the hammer he’d retrieved from the wall. Compared to the weapon he’d just discarded, it seemed almost laughably small, but its bright glow seemed all the more a beacon in the shadows for it.

The twisted creature chortled grimly, “Nice hammer,” it mocked, long neck undulating in an uncomfortable manner, “I’m sure it’ll be great for putting the final nails in the coffin you’ll so desperately desire but never get to use!”

Axl growled, “What happened to you?!” He shouted. It almost sounded like there would be tears in his eyes as well if he weren’t feeling so furious all of a sudden, “You weren’t the greatest guy, but I thought even you had a heart somewhere in there! I didn’t… didn’t think you’d stoop this low!” He didn’t expect any plea to shreds of humanity to work, but it was all he had to buy time.

The laugh he got in return was as ugly as the monster that emitted it, “Our new god saw fit to let me maintain any petty human sentiments as long as I continued to work towards our goal.” Gesturing with its arms and other, extraneous insectoid limbs at itself, it seemed to delight in the twisted new form, “Now that we’ve won, it has deemed them of no further use and removed them!”

“Well, I refuse to let that stand!” Axl tore his attention from the mutant that was Ren, turning instead towards the massive monster, ”And if that’s the source, I know my new goal… destroying it!” He pointed the hammer up at the abomination, determination shining behind his glasses, beneath the mask of his hell-forged armor, “Regardless how long it takes… Even if you’re beyond saving, I can’t let this thing claim any more souls! I can’t stand by and do nothing!”

YOU WOULDN’T BE SO STUPID.

The thought in his head was not his. Axl knew it now. It was the towering creature he stood before, brandishing his hammer with a challenging shout, “Try me!”

The massive beast let out an unholy sound that wasn’t quite a shriek and not quite a roar, and not quite truly a sound so much as an emanation felt rather than heard. Taking the challenge to heart, it lunged down with one of its large, muscular arms, the mandibles in place of its hands open to grasp the puny armored human.

Trying to think quickly, Axl pulled his grappling hook out and latched onto a mandible on the approaching hand-maw, launching himself into the air. He retracted the chain and released it, letting his momentum rocket him towards the creature’s central eye, hammer poised to strike it.

The move was a lot cooler in Axl’s head, and for a moment he was proud of the smoothness of its execution. However, as soon as he got within arms’ reach of the monster, it responded as any large monster with half a brain and working arms would; by unceremoniously plucking the tiny adventurer right out of the air with its other hand. The mandibles jolted his momentum to a dizzying halt, before the tendrils wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides. The ornate hammer fell to the ground far below with a useless clatter.

Held still and close as he was, Axl had time to really not appreciate how atrocious this monster was. It was only a touch less repulsive than the flesh wall in the underworld that had apparently released the power to wake it up. Its flesh up close looked like someone had taken the floating rot-bags and worms and thrown them in a blender, shaping the results into whatever this thing was that shouldn’t have been. The eyes in its shoulders reminded him very much of the very largest that had attacked on so many occasions. He half expected them to be able to open into toothy maws as well. And… were those tongues coming out of its wrists and wrapped around him? Axl didn’t want to think about it. He was just content that his hell-forged armor insulated him from having to touch them, and vaguely hoped from the faint sizzling noise that it was burning the creature to do so.

Tongues or not, the tendrils wound tighter, metal shrieking as that armor began to slowly compact under the pressure. Axl choked out an unbecoming squeak and struggled vainly. The abomination’s booming ‘voice’ echoed in his head, still very unsettlingly sounding like his own. Despite that, all pretense of trying to pass for its victim’s own thoughts had vanished as the beast addressed its own opinions directly.

WHAT A PITIFUL CREATURE. WHAT PURPOSE IS THERE TO ITS CONTINUED EXISTENCE?

It tightened its grip more.

JUST TO DIE LIKE A WORM IF IT WON’T WORSHIP LIKE ONE.

“S-so what!? I’ll just-! I-it’s not l-like I can-!” Axl realized what he was saying, and in what circumstance he was saying it, and immediately shut up. As awesome a boast he could make about never giving up until this foe was defeated, as much like some kind of implacable anime protagonist as it would make him sound, he wasn’t exactly in a position that could end anything but horribly if death was the best apparent option.

The monster didn’t miss the slip, but in a surprise gesture chose to lessen its grip, eyes narrowing. The permeating voice lowered, in tone if not volume.

IT COULD VERY WELL BE GRANTED A PERMANENT DEATH IF SO DESIRED.

Axl looked up, mask hiding the surprise on his face. It was a surprisingly tempting offer...but it couldn’t be true. Was that the promise this thing made to Ren? In a way, it had done exactly that; the human who was Ren was definitely dead now.

That was not the way Axl wanted to go if that was the case.

BUT NO.

It was as if the creature recognized the adventurer’s near-immediate internal rejection of the offer. The feeling of all three eyes focusing on the tiny human only amplified the sudden, gut-wrenching dread as the monster’s bizarre mouth pulled into what possibly was meant to represent a most maniacal, cruel smile. The eyes widened, even more so than seemed possible by the already unnatural standards of the creature’s form, directing all of its malice to a single point between them.

MAKING WORMS LIKE YOU SUFFER IS FAR MORE ENTERTAINING.

Axl barely had a chance to catch his breath when the pressure released, letting him drop for only a moment before the monster grabbed one arm with the tendrils of one of its jawlike-hands, then the other, pulling them tight with a sickening pop, as a cruel child might hold the wings of a fly. His arms felt like they’d tear right out of their sockets, but he couldn’t even muster the energy to cry out. He could only stare at the creature in horror, not quite in the eyes for their distance apart, but rather at its gnashing, v-shaped maw.

The massive beast seemed to take a deep breath, before exhaling a concentrated jet of sickly green fire at the suspended adventurer, engulfing him. Even the hellstone-obsidian alloy of his armor did nothing to deflect it in any way.

After everything he had been through - being digested, sliced to pieces, incinerated in lava, and hundreds of other novel ways to die painfully, including by his own hand - this was somehow worse than it all. The green flame didn’t just hurt physically. He’d become accustomed to that kind of pain; even welcomed it to a certain degree. However, he wasn’t prepared for how it burned within.

Like it was fueling itself on his mind and his soul, threatening to devour not just his body, but every positive emotion, thought, and memory he ever had.

Axl barely noticed when the creature let him drop, screaming, to the ground. He struck the stone writhing as the fire continued to cling. Even after the flames themselves flickered out, he could still feel it eating at him, weaving through his veins and rasping at his bones. He whined and wheezed, clawing at his helmet in an effort to pry it off, to vent the burning and let it die in the stagnant air, but his gauntlets merely slipped off the metal in his desperation. Finally, he managed to tear it free, gasping for breath as it clattered across the dark stone.

I’LL LEAVE THIS FOOL AND ITS ILL-ADVISED COURAGE TO YOU.

The gigantic abomination‘s massive eyes looked down to its subject, before directing off in the direction of the released spirits of light and blood.

I’VE OTHER MATTERS TO ATTEND TO.

Axl couldn’t see how the massive being departed, but he could feel the disappearance of the rumbling of its serpentine form in the ground, as well as the absence of its oppressive aura. How something so large could vanish so quickly was the least of his worries.

Unable to shrug off the ceaseless searing pain under his skin, but unwilling to give up, Axl tried once, twice to push himself off the ground, succeeding on the third try, body quaking as he coughed up flecks of blood. When the tears cleared enough from his eyes to look up, it was into the glowing barrel of Ren’s hell-infused handgun. “You talk a big game, kid,” somehow, Ren’s monstrous face contorted into a sneering grin, “It seems my lord would have me kill you. Over, and over again, until you see reason. A pointless endeavor, naturally,” he chuckled darkly, eye narrowing cruelly, “...considering you’d probably like that.”

It was very disconnecting to see such a bizarre beast holding a weapon that looked so modern - and while talking about reason, no less - that Axl didn’t really internalize the slight. Moreover, something else had caught Axl’s attention; near the foot of where the abomination had vanished, there was a strange glimmer. His eyes drifted to it, fading in and out of focus with his wavering consciousness, trying to make it out.

Ren’s ‘smirk’ darkened slightly, mixing with a scowl. He knew this man was a fool, but this level of inattention was downright insulting. His grin returned, though, as he shifted the gun to one side in a quick motion and pulled the trigger, shooting out his prey’s already nearly-dislocated left shoulder, “Of course, I could draw each death out if that’s what you really want.”

Axl, nerves still overwhelmed to feel much other than burning, just gurgled weakly as he collapsed further, clutching his arm. But he wasn’t going to resign to death. Not this time. He recognized that glimmer. A mirror, unlike the one he’d found in the caves. A mirror with an adorned golden frame.

The same one that brought him to this world.

Axl shook, coughing a few more times, then craned his neck up to glare Ren right in his bloated single eye, “You could... but I don’t think... you’d have the GUS to.”

Ren froze. As the statement sunk in, he snarled, eye going wide in a rage, “YOU-”

With a new sense of purpose, Axl reached out and took hold of the holy hammer where it had fallen. It wasn’t strong, but it would have to be enough. Ren’s distraction denied him the time to respond to that hammer being brought down on one of his misshapen knees, shattering it and sending him to the ground with a piercing, unholy wail.

That distraction was all Axl needed. Leaving the hammer there, he forced himself to his feet, staggering and tripping over himself to make his way to that mirror, even if it was the last thing he did.  His body screamed at him. He didn’t care. He couldn’t risk it being his last chance.

“DON’T RUN AWAY FROM ME,” the corrupted human screeched as he whirled about in fury, twisting at the waist unnaturally. He brought up the gun and released two more shots. Both pierced Axl in the back, causing the fleeing man to gasp, collapsing on top of the mirror. As his consciousness failed, he grabbed the artifact in both hands and stared into it with every fiber of determination he could muster. He could barely see for all his pain, not even his own face. He didn’t care what the background in the reflection was… so long as it was anywhere but here.

His vision faded to white.

---

Axl awoke to the sound of chirping birds.

He sat up, slowly. His skin tingled, as if with the remnants of the cursed fire’s burn, but for the most part he felt strangely numb. As his vision readjusted, he took in his surroundings. Despite how obvious it was, his brain seemed to refuse the initial assessment that he wasn’t indoors, instead sitting in an open shrine, somewhere high up. Very high up. He didn’t remember seeing anything of the sort when they’d ascended to the sky islands looking for treasure. Clouds drifted lazily past, and he could hear a breeze, but could only barely feel it against his face.

‘Am I actually dead this time?’ he thought to himself as he looked down. He was no longer wearing armor, and it surprised him to see that he was wearing the clothes he had arrived in, but with one crucial difference.

Beneath the ironic shirt and baggy shorts, he was completely bandaged up. Only his face was left bare… mostly. Looking at his arms and his legs, Axl felt somewhat silly, like a mummy, but at the same time, a sinking dread settled in his stomach. With great hesitation, he pulled the bandages on his wrist aside, only to recoil.

The skin underneath was warped and charred. It hardly seemed like human skin at all, looking more like plastic pulled from a fire. Axl let out a long, withdrawn sigh, with barely the energy to take another breath as he slowly closed his eyes, letting the bandages go and covering his face with his palm.

“Your resolve is commendable,” a lilting voice drifted from out of view, startling Axl out of his stupor. He turned to see… something.

Whatever it was, ‘ghost’ seemed like the most fitting term, almost to the point of the absurdity of looking like it were made from sheets draped over some uncannily tall form. The only thing shattering that silly thought was the fact that those sheets were virtually transparent, revealing nothing underneath. Instead of a face, the figure had a mask.

A mask made from a gold-framed oval mirror.

Axl stared at it in disbelief, only to see his reflection in its surface, cringing. His face certainly could have been in worse condition, perhaps saved by getting his helmet off in time, but the disfigurement was still significant. He looked away, grimly.

“Axl C. Eyre,” the being spoke again, ethereal voice carrying a profound serenity.

Axl had never been referred in such a way before, and something about it caught his breath. He turned slowly towards the mirror spirit, taking care not to look at his reflection.

It bowed, slowly and respectfully.

“We have much to discuss…”

#the wall of text has awoken #long post #fell story #*sits back with a mug of tea* #congratulations you just read an 87-page setup for a pun that one person openly figured out in about 4 #well... a little over 4