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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

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The Vessel

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: You realize you've made a mistake of selling a part of your body to a certain Witcher and his Mage, Yennefer, in return for a lumpsum of coins.

And now, you cannot back out. Instead, you're drowning knee deep into your developing feelings for Geralt of Rivia who belongs to her.

Warnings: Will have 18+ content, and will not follow the storyline, I know that Witchers are sterile but forced pregnancy.

[My Masterlist]

A/N- You can also find this fic on my AO3 by the same name, my account name is @slutforcavill.

Pt. 1

You stared at the happy couple, jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach. You felt deflated, hurt and angry, but this was how it was. You were just a vessel, for the Witcher, and his lover, the Mage, Yennefer of Vengerberg. You kept watching them, from the corner of your eye, yet you kept a safe distance, lest either of them saw the tears spurting down your cheeks at the sight of them, laughing together— though technically she laughed, and he just grunted, but you could see the not so hidden amusement in his eyes.

It hurt, nonetheless—

If a month back, you knew this is what you would be feeling; one month down the line; you wouldn't have landed yourself into this mess of a situation, just for a pouch full of coin. You would have steered clear from a certain white haired man, eyes bright and somber like the shining sun, perhaps even brighter, and his woman, one of the most powerful mages you had come across.

If only, someone had warned you before—

It didn't help; the fact that you were already struggling to feed yourself, have three meals a day worth grain at your shack, that you called a home [back at Redania].

It all started when one day, Yennefer of Vengerberg, as she introduced herself, ended up at your doorstep, asking for your help, in return for a massive pouch full of coin.

Coin enough to last you for almost two years—

You found yourself lost in thoughts— when a month back, you were tending to your sheep, rearing enough wool so you could knit yourself a blanket warm enough to last the Winters. You didn't know where she came from; it was only later you found out that she was a mage, and she could use portals to go anywhere in the world. What you didn't understand then, and could not understand till date was why they chose you.

Maybe the Mage could feed on your desperation— knowing how badly you were looking for a steady job so the coin could keep flowing. And then, there was a fact that you were a virgin— not yet ruined by any man, and this was exactly what she was looking for.

"Can I help you?" You asked the woman, eyeing her from the corner of your eyes, your eyesight trailing over her richly clothed form. She looked divine and exotic, draped in rich princely colours, red and gold.

She looked right at you, her lips curling into a devious smile. She nodded to herself, although satisfied, and took her own sweet time to finally respond, "You can help me. And I can help you. I heard from the villagers that you are looking for work. Isn't that right?"

You nodded, placing the wool into a basket.

"Well then, I'm here to offer you a job."

A job she did offer, only you didn't know what to think of it. She sat there by a chair next to your fireplace [ that so obviously needed more wood ] , her left leg elegantly draped over her right leg, her posture poised and regal, her eyes scanning your face as it contorted into a series of emotions— shock, numbness, anger, hope.

The job that she so generously offered to you was the job of a vessel. What she wanted of you was your womb, a vessel that she could use to grow her child.

Hers and Geralt of Rivia's child—a spawn that was to be created of her magic.

Neither Geralt, nor Yennefer were fertile. They couldn't conceive, biologically, but magically, this was possible. Yennefer told you everything— how she could finally become a mother, a yearning she had buried into the pit of her heart ever since she had buried the little princess, Queen Kalis' daughter, into the sand that day.

It wasn't until she met the white haired man, and an attraction flared, did her desperation for a babe began strumming into her heart. And she passed on this desire of hers to her lover, like a contagious disease until the two of them wanted nothing more than to bring a babbling young half Witcher half Mage into the world.

Her spell, although, could fertilize the Witcher's seed, turning him potent for this once, however, it wasn't enough to turn her own barren womb into a vessel that could carry their child. They needed a woman, a human— untouched— so Geralt could ruin her, and she could give them what they desired.

Yennefer also knew that no woman would agree to this, unless she offered something of value.

It was easy for you to agree.

Neither did you have a family, nor a lover. Besides, an opportunity had walked up to your door yourself, and you couldn't push it away.

But now, a month later, you regretted it.

When you saw them together, and it felt like your heart was being sliced through, slowly— torturing and burning you from the inside.

“Behold, what a fine view you have here, don’t they look beautiful together?” Jaskier was the first one to have decided to intrude into your private space, so suddenly, you were forced to pull your gaze away from the two of them, and crane your neck to your side so you could subtly wipe your tears away.

“Define beauty, Jaskier.” You grumbled under your breath your words barely audible, and you felt the Bard sit down next to you, his arm now brushing against yours as he swallowed a mouthful of ale before turning his head towards you.

“Like.. my songs? Although, they’re much beautiful than those two over there,” he almost began, but you cut him off abruptly, pushing yourself up to your feet, looking down at him.

“Can we not talk about this, Jas’? I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what, [Y/N]? Sit in a corner and cry a river like you were doing a few seconds back? Don’t think the bard a dumb brute, I see things.”

Your lips parted in surprise. He had caught you. You sheepishly blinked, running your hand absentmindedly through your hair, shaking your head as you denied it, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He sighed, but didn't make an attempt to stand up. Instead, you watched him sit back, trying to get more comfortable as a smile broke out against his lips, "If I were you, I'd tell him how I really feel. Now I know you've got competition, a pretty fierce one, might I add, but what's the fun if you get everything handed to you in a silver platter, and you don't have to work for it?"

"Jas—"

You had barely begun speaking when a fight broke out in the tavern, between two men that you didn't know, right across from where you were seated, and Jaskier's attention was flung away. You watched, in exasperation, as he began cheering all of a sudden, and Geralt, a few tables away, clenched his fists and pursed his lips in annoyance, leaning and whispering something into her ears.

You watched as the beautiful mage slowly rose from her place, and fixed her gaze on you until she was on her way to where you were.

"How are you feeling, little pet?" She raised an eyebrow, and you bit your lip, almost too hard, the taste of metal strong against your taste buds. Oh, how you fought the urge to bark at her and send her back to her beloved, who had his eyes, unmoving, on the two of you.

"Fine." You muttered, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at her.

You didn't understand why you hated this woman.

No, you did— but you didn't want to acknowledge it— it was because of a certain white haired man, who still had his gaze stilled on you, and you couldn't help but feel like your insides were on fire aching for his touch. You wondered how one look from him was enough to weaken your resolve, what would you do if the man ever brushed his hand against you, or even breathed in a close proximity as the Mage was now in?

Stop thinking about this, [Y/N]. He isn't yours to think of.

"Come on, it's time we keep moving, can't afford to waste two hours as the Sun's already up."

You blinked, cursing yourself for feeling so flustered but what could you do? This was the first time you had heard the Witcher say more words than the occasional hums and grunts directed towards you.

You and Yennefer began walking out of the tavern, Jaskier following the two of you, while Geralt was ahead of the two of you, as you began continuing your journey to the Great Mount in Aedirn, a journey you had been on with them now for over thirty days.

For once, you couldn't stop your racing heart from thinking of what was going to happen between you and the White haired man once you reached this Mount.

#geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x y/n #the witcher #the witcher x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x y/n

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ckneal · 3 years

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So, there’s this one angel story in the back of my head that I know I wont write. I wont write it, because it’s utter nonsense, with very little regard for the canonical timeline of Supernatural, and a willfully blurry view on what is and is not “in character.” It’s fluff. It’s all fluff, in the form of a bunch of smaller stories that gradually weave together, following the Love, Actually style of storytelling, but instead of problematic love stories, it’s all about angels playing hooky from Heaven after the Fall.

(Seriously, there is no substance here, I swear.)

Stories include Abner, living out the first half of the movie Family Man, struggling to figure out how to be a good father and house husband after he steps into the life of the raging alcoholic who agreed to be his vessel. There’s also a very minor story about Esther (not to be confused with Hester, who is not in this story because she never deserted her post in Heaven) learning to play the part of a little girl and navigating schoolyard politics, but kids can be mean and Esther learns the hard way that Michael’s approach to asserting dominance in Heaven does not translate well. There’s also Daniel and Adina, who both settle into vessels in the same movie theater where a romantic comedy is playing, and fall into a very innocent, play-acting sort of love after they leave the theatre—like little kids pretending to be in love, recreating the scenes from the movie, but at the same time not really understanding it. Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael each trying to roll with the luxurious high roller life style, and awkwardly running into each other at VIP poker games, exclusive spas and clubs, and the occasional orgy that they promptly leave IMMEDATELY after running into a sibling (don’t give me weird looks, Balthazar and Gabriel canonically include that sort of thing in their definition of luxury, and the whole thing of their story is their siblings keep cramping their style). Tyrus is in there bowling, somewhere. Benjamin’s playing arcade games with his wife. And then there’s Thaddeus, my pet favorite minor angel character, realizing what’s happening as he’s falling with all the other faithful angels during the Fall and seizing the opportunity to abandon his life as a guard and torturer, settling into a pop star for his vessel—initially for the sake of the cushy lifestyle, but then gradually looking back, before the garden and Lucifer, before everyone was assigned a job in Heaven, like it or not, and the options were to adapt or to be smote, and remembering that back then, he could sing.

And of course, Michael and Adam get a story too—in which Michael lowkey gets into a pissing contest with death, as he and Adam travel the world, hitting up hospital after hospital to heal people. Because the first thing Adam wanted to do after getting out of the cage (okay, second thing—burgers came first) was go to the nearest medical center and start healing people left and right. And at first, they’re having a great time. Adam steals a white jacket he finds in the breakroom somewhere, and anytime someone says he looks a little young to be a doctor (Adam still looking nineteen years old, because I say so), Michael wipes the poor sap’s mind. But eventually—sometime after they’ve cleared out the children’s ward, the cancer ward, the cardiac ward—Billie shows up, sniping at them that they can’t just go around healing people who are destined to die, because there is an order to life and death that cannot be shoved aside. And Billie tries to make a show of it, as Terra did with Dean, by having several people who Adam had healed over the course of the day inadvertently cause several massive accidents. The news suddenly comes pouring out of the television, channels flipping as newscasters talk about tragedies occurring in several different parts of the city they’re currently in. The sound of approaching ambulance sirens fills the air, as in the hospital hallway, doctors and nurses begin hurrying to receive a rush of ER patients.

Adam’s horrified.

Michael does not take kindly to this. He snaps his fingers and makes it so that the carnage has never happened. Because he is the archangel Michael, only two steps away from being a god, and if he says that all of these people are going to live, then they are going to live, and he WILL NOT be intimidated, especially by an amateur reaper whose only qualification for her position was dying at the right time.

Billie in turn lands Michael with a cold stare, and points out that the order to life and death is beyond even God’s authority, let alone daddy’s blunt, sniveling instrument.

As Michael’s eyes start to glow, Adam steps in and says, “So, to be clear, you want us to stop healing people on the verge of death? We can do that.”

After Billie leaves, Michael is outraged, but Adam says, “No, Michael, THINK about it.”

We then cut to other stories, where newscasts in the background reveal that ailments that are not IMMIEDATELY fatal (AIDs, diabetes, Alzheimer’s, etc.) are mysteriously disappearing overnight, worldwide.

Billie is not amused, and tells her reapers to be on the lookout for an archangel at every major hospital in the world.

Cut to Michael throwing open the door of the bunker, muttering aloud to Adam that he’s going to do it, he’s going to bind Death, just like Lucifer did—how hard can it be? Sam and Dean see him as he goes stomping off toward the cabinet where they keep all of their magical dry goods, but Michael snaps his fingers and the two of them are abruptly half drunk in Dean’s man cave, sitting in front of Dean’s flat screen TV, watching some campy monster movie, because that’s lowkey what Michael and Adam assume they do all day.

As they’re raiding Sam and Dean’s supplies though, Adam says, “Wait, I have an idea.”

Cut to Abner looking up while pushing his vessel’s daughter in a park swing, and literally seeing Michael and Adam chasing an ambulance, so they can technically heal the person inside before reaching the hospital.

Yes, I’m aware that Abner was dead by the time Michael and Adam got out of the cage. But see, this story? This story is like when someone gifts you a goldfish unexpectedly, and you put it in a bowl, checking in to feed it a couple times a day, lowkey expecting it to die. But it doesn’t die, it gets bigger. And you’re not a cruel person, so you put it in a bigger tank, but it just gets bigger again, and you don’t really know what’s going on, but you know, you just kind of keep checking in, meeting the minimum requirements but not really getting in there as a guiding force because it’s a goldfish and it’s surely going to die any minute now—but then you look over and there’s giant tank taking up your living room, and you’re thawing out bloodworms twice a day, and looking into tankmates to keep Charles company, and realize that “Oh wow, I guess this is a thing now.”

In short, the story says we’re ignoring the timeline, and it’s calling the shots. I’m just keeping the tank clean.

The angels all eventually wind up running into each other. Abner and Esther happen upon one another in a park, where Esther is morosely realizing that she is terrible at being a human child but she does not want to go home to Heaven, and it just happens to be the same park where Abner goes with his “little nibblet” once a day to let her toddle around the playground while he chats with nannies and other house parents. Anael, Adina, and Daniel meet up when the latter two’s game has reached the point where they’ve decided to get married, and they apparently need to buy something new—preferably blue—as per this very important rhyme someone told them about. Esther and Gabriel run into each other in an ice cream parlor. Thaddeus gets recognized while doing an interview on TV that everyone sees. And, while out joyriding in a Lamborghini, on their way to meet up with the growing community of angels who decided to opt out of their responsibility to Heaven and their father’s legacy, Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael are all startled to see Michael land on an ambulance stopped next to them at a red light.

Balthazar and Anael are both terrified, as if they’ve just been busted by a parent, because Michael, of course, is the guy who enforces the rules, and isn’t he supposed to be in Hell? They both shoot Gabriel looks as if to say ‘what the hell are you doing’ when Gabriel, watching as Michael climbs down and matter-of-factly wrenches the ambulance doors open, calls out, “Hey, Mike! Is that you?”

Michael looks over, freezes for a second—not prepared to be suddenly thrust into a social situation in the middle of his self-imposed mission to spite death—then his eyes flash and Adam takes over. “Oh hey, you’re Michael’s family? What a small world! I’m Adam, I’ve heard so much about you. Wait, hang on—”

The light starts to turn green, but Adam snaps his fingers and it promptly reverts to red.

Three jaws drop in the luxury car, and they don’t even hear Adam politely explain that he and Michael are in the middle of something, as he ducks into the ambulance, because Michael’s evidently letting a tiny human use his powers like it’s nothing, and what does that mean?

“Sweet dad in the unknown, Michael’s shagging a human. . .”

“Nooo!”

“HOW?”

“Hey, kid, you like weddings?”

At some point in the story, all the MIA angels are together, and Benjamin or someone comes running in saying, “Quick, they’re coming! Everyone hide!”

And everyone scatters, except for Michael, who stands in place, saying, “Gabriel, we’re archangels, two of the most powerful beings in existence. Why would we—”

And then Gabriel picks Adam up like a sack of potatoes and sprints off, calling back, “Trust me, you do NOT want to get involved with them!”

Being a projection, Michael is obligated to follow.

Team Free Will then walks by, looking constipated from whatever Big Awful Thing is currently threatening to destroy the world.

The story, of course, culminates in the wedding of Adina and Daniel, who still don’t quite understand what marriage is beyond promising to love each forever, which of course they will, after all, they are the very best of friends—which is about the same concept that most of the other angels present have. Adam is the first one to actually approach the big awkward question, upon finding out who the bride and groom are.

“Wait, aren’t they brother and sister?”

To which Serafina’s Adam, (who is of course there since Serafina was the original angel to play hooky) whose sons married his daughters, and all the angels, who do not understand what that has to do with anything, all cock their heads in unison and respond with, “So?”

Adam struggles to find words, looking into so many innocent faces. Then Benjamin’s wife puts a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Shhh, let them have their fun.”

Benjamin’s wife and the two Adams wind up sitting at the venue’s bar, where they order nachos from a very confused bar tender, and watch as the angels go about setting up a wedding. But given that most angels haven’t been on earth regularly in roughly two thousand years, none of them have a clear grasp of what a human wedding entails.

“I heard it’s traditional for the father to give away the bride.”

“I think they’re supposed to kiss over bread.”

“Do humans still slaughter cows at these things?”

“I’m pretty sure someone is supposed to break a glass—”

Several angels promptly throw glassware on the floor.

At no point do the angels ask the humans for advice.

Occasionally, Gabriel knowingly throws out obscure details to keep the confusion going.

“You know, the groom needs to stand with the right arm to the aisle in case a sword fight breaks out.”

“Right! . . .How do we know which one’s the groom?”

At the bar, Adam open’s his mouth to say something, but the original Adam shushes him.

“No no, son, let them get there.”

The angels agree that being the better fighter, Adina should be the groom.

They’re nearly ready to start when Michael suddenly doubles over with his hand over his mouth. It coincides with the sound of Adam pounding the bar top, having just eaten a Carolina Reaper pepper on dare. Michael’s eyes quickly flash silver-blue as he straightens, and both he and Adam are abruptly fine—even if their eyes are still watering somewhat. But a different sort of damage has already been done, as Anael, Balthazar, and Gabriel all abruptly turn toward the triad of humans, having been reminded that the Michael walking around with them is actually a projection. In actuality, Michael is anchored to the human ex-college student sitting at the bar.

All three of them rush toward Adam, but Serafina gets there first, asking Adam if he’s ever tried mushroom tea.

Balthazar gets there next.

“Adam, was it? We didn’t get to talk in the car, let’s fix that. Are you over twenty-one? You know what, this is a family affair, don’t worry—CAN I GET TWO SHOTS OF DON JULIO OVER HERE?”

From that point on, any time Adam turns around, there’s one of Michael’s siblings, wanting to get to know him—by consuming some sort of beverage. Because Adam and Michael are sharing body—and that means they share a liver too. A bet ensues as to how much it will take to get God’s alleged favorite wasted.

Gabriel’s actually one of the first out, having been convinced that Michael would be a lightweight. Little does he suspect that Benjamin and his wife caught onto what was happening soon after Adam was fed his third long island iced tea and second jager bomb, and began quietly cleansing the alcohol from his system through casual shoulder pats and high fives.

Adam does not know what to make of any of this, but it’s Michael’s family and he wants to make a good impression, so he just goes with it.

Thaddeus, of course, is in charge of music, Gabriel and Esther consume the majority of the cake, and Michael catches the bouquet (he may have cheated after finding out what the bouquet toss is for).

#my thoughts #lowkey might be putting this idea out so it'll leave me alone #midam #supernatural angels #the divine shurley family

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brutal-nemesis · 3 years

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E&T: Aftermath

Not much physical whump in this chapter or the next but that doesn’t mean there won’t be any angst or whatever so there’s that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: painful magical healing, referenced use of “it” pronouns

The days since the incident had been entirely uneventful, which was both a blessing and a curse. Erebus was certainly glad to have some time to himself without being examined and grabbed all the time, but just being stuck in this room with only so many things to do and no one to talk to was a little rough. He had nothing to distract him from the myriad of things he didn’t want to dwell on. Struck with a sudden urge, he picked up his pillow, walked into the bathroom, calmly sat down in the corner, pressed his face into the pillow, and screamed.

He wasn’t entirely sure why, not that he didn’t have a multitude of reasons to. Maybe he wanted to do it without anyone hearing for once. Maybe it was because that arm still took him by surprise every time he looked down. Maybe the constant itch of the collar wrapped around his throat had finally gotten to him. Maybe it was the fact that he could hardly write his name anymore, despite his best efforts. Maybe it was because the only person who’d been kind to him since this whole mess began, the only person he could turn to for comfort, was also ripping him to pieces, making him into some kind of monster. And there was nothing he could do about any of it. All he could do was endure. Endure and hope things wouldn’t get much worse.

He heard the door to the cell open, but he stayed where he was, figuring it was just someone dropping off food or bandages. It wasn’t until he heard a tentative “What are you...you’re not asleep are you?” that he looked up. Neteri was poking her head through the doorway, giving him a concerned look. She looked a lot better than the last time he’d seen her, and Erebus almost smiled before remembering that A) she was the majority of the reason he was so miserable in the first place and B) her catching him doing...this...was embarrassing, to say the least. He felt his face grow red.

“Why are you...were you just going to look in here without knocking?” Now it was Neteri’s turn to blush.

“Well-you-the door wasn’t closed so I thought...whatever, it’s not like I saw anything. What are you even doing in here?”

“I’m-it’s none of your business.” He stood up, taking comfort in the significant height advantage he had over her. “Look, can we...not talk in here?” Neteri nodded and they went and sat in the main part of the cell, Neteri on one of the chairs and Erebus on the bed. He didn’t put the pillow down, hugging it to his chest instead.

“So. How have you been these past few days? Both with your arm and after the, uh, incident?”

“My arm hurts and it’s shaky and I can’t straighten it out or make a fist and I can barely write with it.” Erebus rattled off his grievances quickly. He’d tried to keep track of everything that he noticed was wrong with it in the hopes that Neteri could fix it, going over the list time after time in his head. She nodded slightly.

“Okay, not too bad. It’s about what I was expecting, honestly, so I should be able to fix it without too much trouble.” Erebus allowed himself to feel a small bit of relief. If he was going to be stuck with this horrific arm, it was at least going to work.

“As for what happened with, uh…”

“Hjáll?”

“Yeah. I...I think I’m okay now.” Erebus looked down. “Being a person...helps.” He looked back up at Neteri. “Who is she, anyway?

“She’s...my rival? Kind of. And also my boss.”

“Wait that was your boss?! Does that mean that she can-”

“No, no, what she did the other day was completely out of line. She technically has a right to examine you every so often, but I have to consent to it and be present, which obviously didn’t happen then.” She sighed. “I...I’ll likely have to let her do it again in the future, but I promise it won’t be like, uh, that. I’ll be right there the whole time, and I won’t let her hurt you or do anything...weird.”

“So I’m just going to have to sit there and let her...look at me?”

“Well, most likely she’s going to request that you be restrained, since she seems to have gotten the impression that you’re some kind or feral beast, which is honestly hilarious. What, did you bite her or something?”

“No, I just resisted when she tried to take off my clothes. I pushed her back. And I kicked her.” Neteri burst out laughing.

“Wait, you kicked her? You?” Erebus nodded, and Neteri laughed again. “Oh, oh that’s fantastic. I love it. She’s so high-and-mighty all the time and it is annoying. For real though, if she looks at you again I swear it won’t be that bad. Ugh, she’s probably going to keep using “it” pronouns for you, but I’ll try to correct her.” Erebus hated that he was grateful that his captor was insistent on treating him with basic human decency in this one instance, but here he was. “Alright.” Neteri jumped out of her chair. “You ready for me to fix your arm?”

“As long as you’ll get it right this time,” he said as he stood up.

“Keep talking like that I just might not.” He was afraid she was serious for a second, but the mischievous smile she flashed up at him told him otherwise.

After she freed his ankle, her hand clamped around his right wrist and she began to gently pull him down the hall. He briefly entertained the thought of jerking out of her grasp and running, but deep down he knew there wasn’t much point. He had no idea where he was in the castle or where the teleportation stone was, and he’d honestly rather just let Neteri get his arm working correctly. So he let her lead him along without a fight, at least until they arrived at the lab. He stopped in his tracks upon seeing that table again, the horrors of a few days prior starting to overtake his mind. Neteri looked up at him.

“You’re going to have to get on there if you want me to fix it.”

“C-could I at least sit up or-”

“Nope, I need you to be as still as possible or else it’ll mess with the...things could get messed up, to put it in not-technical terms. You need to be lying down and secured.” She thought for a moment. “I can, like, not strap all of you down, would that make you feel better?” He steeled himself before slowly nodding, approaching the table on shaky legs. Deep breath. He hoisted himself up onto the table, every fiber of his being crying out in protest not to get back up here, not to lie down and let himself be tortured all over again. But he did it anyway, because it was either do it himself or be forced to. Neteri watched him intently the whole time, not moving even when he’d laid down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“You’re...you’re really brave.”

“Huh?”

“Well,” she said as she finally moved towards him, gently rolling up his right sleeve and unwinding the bandage, “I mean I can tell how scared you are, and that’s justified, but you still got up here despite that, you know?”

“I don’t think that’s...I just know there’s no point in running or fighting.” He looked away, and his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, “I think it means I’ve given up more than anything.”

“In a way, yes, but that’s not a bad thing.” She tightened the strap around his right wrist. “You just understand that resisting gets you nothing, and you’d rather make the choice to cooperate, but you’re still…” she furrowed her brow as she strapped his chest down. “You still have...resolve or...I don’t know how to explain it. Just like...something.”

“Something. That really clears it up.” She smiled.

“In conclusion: you’re brave,” she declared as she shoved the rag into his mouth to prevent him from arguing further. He halfway reached up to pull it out, but stopped himself and laid his arm back down. Maybe he shouldn’t give her a reason to strap his other arm down, since it seemed like she was going to start with just his right arm and chest secured. He braced himself, fingers of his left hand curling into the fabric of his shirt as he looked up at Zander the rat.

The pain started out quiet and slow, crackles and pops of little agonies sparking throughout his arm, preludes to the coming blaze. They steadily intensified, and before he knew it he was screaming, head arched back and knees bent as the pain ravaged his arm. A thousand flames coursed through every nerve before the sensation changed to a crawling itch, and it was all he could do to resist scratching at his arm. Thankfully, the magic stopped flowing soon after. And after a few residual twinges, the pain stopped too.

Neteri was breathing heavily, but she seemed to be in a much better condition than she had been the last time she attempted this, no blood coming out of her nose or ears. She smiled at him. “The worst of it should be over, but I might have to make a few adjustments. Can you try to make a fist? You said you couldn’t do that before, right?” Hesitantly, he did so, feeling a bolt of elation as the foreign fingers obeyed with ease. She let him sit up, having him move his arm all sorts of ways, and they were both happy to find that there were no problems with it at the moment. She cut the stitches around the now-healed spot where red and bronze skin were gnarled together, and he couldn’t help but wince as she pulled them out, despite how gentle she was being.

Once they got back to the cell, Erebus realized he could finally ask Neteri the question he’d thought of yesterday. “Does it do anything?”

“What?”

“The arm, does it do anything...special? Like how the tongue-”

“Oh, yeah, it should be able to...well, have you ever met a lust demon?”

“No?”

“Alright well basically what they’re able to do is change their appearance to suit the, ah, tastes of whatever human they’re trying to prey on. We’re not exactly sure if this is something they’re consciously able to do or if it’s purely reactionary. But there is a possibility that you’ll be able to change the appearance of your arm with enough practice.”

“Really?” Erebus looked down at his arm, imagining it changing back to look like the one he’d lost, feeling a small spark of hope.

“Mmhmm. Theoretically, at least. I can’t promise you’ll be able to do it, but there’s a chance.” She shrugged as she said this. “Oh, that reminds me of something else I wanted to ask you earlier. Is there anything you want? I...I feel bad about what happened with Hjáll, and the procedure on your arm was more painful than it was supposed to be. So, is there anything I can do to sorta make it up to you? Obviously I’m not going to let you go or stop what I’m doing, because no, but uhhh…” Erebus furrowed his brow. What did he want besides his freedom? He considered asking her to let him visit his home and say goodbye to people, but he shuddered at the thought of anyone who knew him seeing him in his current state, and he didn’t want to burden them with the reality of what was happening to him. They might blame themselves, and it wasn’t their fault. So he wouldn’t ask her to take him to Nathar, but maybe…

“Could I...go outside? I haven’t seen the sky or plants or anything in so long and I...I hate being stuck underground like this.”

“Sure! Ooh, I could show around the city! Yeah, yeah, that should work. I’ll need to get a few things in order first, so it might be a couple of days.” She got up to leave. “Until then, work on seeing if you can get your arm to change or whatever. I’ll be back with your food...at some point later today.”

After she left, Erebus stared at his arm, concentrating on the image of the one he’d once had, trying to imagine the skin fading from bright red to light brown, but it remained the same as before. Well, he didn’t expect it to work right away. But hopefully it would, someday.

Hopefully.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #neteri #hopefully people are cool with a couple less painful chapters #we will return to horror after this short break!#so yee hjall will come back whenever i want to make erebus uncomfy again. its her job #thats right lust demons FUCK who would have thought #basically they live off of human bodily fluids...any fluids...in any orifice...#yeah #they could drink blood like vampires if they wanted to tho #but we get possible arm editing hours so this mans isnt stuck with it being red wheee #dw he will not have a good time with making it do shit #yeah thats right i will get to dump all my taiyorum lore into canon in the next chapter #after that we will return the anguish :)#but erebus can have a little break from being ripped apart. as a treat #hnng which means i have to figure out how to talk about crossbeds without calling them crossbeds #maybe i will harass someone who dont know geology #what the fuck is it with the chapters where like nothing happens being so dang long #seriously what the fuck you two stop talking all the dang time #this one is up there with ch8 in ''things that need to happen but i hate it but i want to just move on so here''#okay i dont like hate it hate it i just. blegh #yes i only finished it because i was procrastinating on my hw

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beerecordings · 3 years

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Okay, here is part three of the latest Marvin's Cage story. Find the whole story so far here Let me know if you enjoy! Thanks for reading. Tws for mentions of possible cannibalism, mentions of past torture, panic attacks, and imprionsment . Light through the side of his box. “Marvin, Marvin,” he mouths, soundless, tears in his eyes. “Brother, brother.” Marvin does not come. “Jameson,” the soft voice is calling. “JJ. We won't hurt you, I promise."

No. This is not right, not right! This has never happened! He clutches at his hair and bites down on the collar of his shirt, tears racing down his face. They need to go away! They're not supposed to be here! They're not supposed to know! Marvin will be so, so, so angry! He can't do it again, can't go back to being alone alone alone alone. His skin so untouched it hurts, so he scratches at it, at his lonely skin, his lonely bones. Marvin will not touch him hold him call him little brother. He can't go back. Makes his brain so numb and then so crazy. Can't can't can't. “Jamie, breathe, Jamie – ” “Give him space, dude! He's scared of us. Jameson... just... he's really just – ” “Marvin did this to him!” He flinches at the loudness of the voice, biting his collar til he feels thread tear. No, no, no. This is Marvin's worst nightmare. His brothers know about him, and they're angry at Marvin. Angry at Marvin who was just protecting all of them, who takes care of him and loves him. This can't be happening. They need to understand. How does he make them understand? How does he even try to explain when his heart is beating so hard it hurts all the way up to his throat and he can't stop crying? This is why you can never fight Anti off, sneer an old pair of hands in his head. You're the most pathetic little creature ever to walk across the earth. Of course Marvin locked us away. Him and Anti are both right. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he signs desperately. “Brother, brother, M! Please! I want M!” “It's been so fucking long since I took that BSL course. I'm the worst brother.” “Don't start, Jackie, shit. I don't think I ever bothered trying to learn for more than, like, two Youtube videos. Schneep would know. He learned it in about three days and he doesn't forget things.” “Brother – that was brother, I remember! Yeah, JJ, we're your brothers, dude. I mean, if you want us to be. Can you just – please, breathe.” No, they don't understand. These are not JJ's brothers. These are Marvin's brothers. It's a term of endearment more than anything technical: the relationship does not transfer. Marvin always made that very clear and JJ understands. Chase and Schneep and Jackie are not dangerous like he is. Chase and Schneep and Jackie do not have to live in cages, and they get to come find Marvin whenever they want, and they can have things like their own money and lots of friends. They can walk around the city at their leisure. See the sky. Have jobs. Walk around stores and talk to girls and make friends. They pick out their own food and books and toys. They're nice people who have never killed anyone or stabbed each other or made Marvin so upset that he burned their faces on accident and left them alone for days at a time. Schneep is even a doctor who saves lives, and Jackie is a real-life superhero, and Chase has babies who love him. Of course Marvin had to keep them safe from JJ. He's just grateful that Marvin never listened to him when he would beg to get out. Marvin even took care of him when he could have so easily left him to rot like he deserves. “JJ, JJ, please. You can trust us. Didn't you say you remembered me? Please, please, I'm begging you – come here.” Yes, of course he remembers Jackie – remembers the warm voice trying to calm him for hours, and the gloved hand in his own, and the presence watching over him as he drifted close to sleep, the safe and loving presence. How could he forget it? Some days, it is all he thinks about. But it's not something he can have. No, he won't come out. He won't risk making Marvin angry, and he certainly won't let Marvin's brothers get hurt because of him. He will stay here alone like he has to. He is a good boy like Anti told him, like Marvin told him. He is good and he is not hurting anyone ever again. He is staying right here. “Fine, I'll go to him,” comes a vehement voice, and then someone is pushing at the broken wood around his door. Jameson sucks in a wheezing scream and darts behind the curtain over his little bathroom, shoving himself between the wall and the toilet

and squeezing himself into as tight a ball as he can manage around his little stuffed dog, the first present Marvin ever brought him. Jackie can't come in here – neither of them can! Anti will kill them! “Jackie, he's freaking out, stop, stop!” There's a low howl of frustration, but no one comes any closer. His box falls quiet again with nothing but soft murmuring from Marvin's brothers as JJ sobs, biting at deep scars in his palms, the result of being possessed on repeat by a demon with a passionate love of any kind of blade. His hands raise the knife – no hilt. The blade goes down, goes into his palms, goes down, goes into his palms. Goes into her chest. He can hear her screaming. Can hear himself laughing. There's blood in his mouth that isn't his. His birds are already picking at her as she suffocates around the silver of the knife. The bugs are creeping onto her flesh and crawling up his shirt. No, no, no! If Marvin would come – if Marvin would quiet the memories like he always does – But Marvin does not come. Marvin does not come find him. Alone, alone, alone. “JJ, JJ,” they are calling to him, begging at him, but this is not something he can let himself have. He'd rather die right here. No, no, no, no. He is not going anywhere. Ever. His little stuffed dog is licking at his face. He closes his eyes and rubs its fur til the panic fades. His good dog, good boy. He drifts in his head. He's playing with his dog in the yard. Marvin is on the porch reading. The sun is warm. His dog licks his face. He is staying right here... everything is okay... there you go, JJ. There you go. There's a good little brother. You know how much I hate to see you cry. Cut it out, okay? I don't want to hear that anymore. Be good and I'll come back tomorrow. Be good and stay right here. Yeah, he's good. He's good. And when he's good, Marvin comes back again. Marvin will come back. . The soft scrape of cardboard on wood wakes him. He sits in the darkness behind his privacy curtain. Things are quiet again. “I wish he would just...” “I know. But you can't stay here all day.” “Well, neither can he!” “Shhh, keep your voice low. He obviously does, I mean...” The voices devolve back into incomprehensibility, too soft for him to understand. He wipes at his ruddy, weary face and sniffs, curled up against the side of the toilet. He's a little germ freak, as Marvin says, but he doesn't have to worry. He cleans everything every morning so Marvin will not think he's messy. The decorations are always dusted and straightened. He wipes the toilet and his little mirror down, and the sink too, so it's clean when Marvin comes in to shave him on Wednesdays. He isn't allowed to have a razor in here – Anti will try to cut him up again – but Marvin takes care of him anyway. The bathroom smells like their shaving cream and the lemon scent of his cleaners, stacked neatly on the shelves in his back-left corner next to his laundry: Marvin's clothes and some old t-shirts and sweatpants. He isn't allowed to wear anything that isn't Marvin's. Marvin has to be the one to put it through the wash, and if his brothers saw it, they would ask why he was washing things that did not belong to anyone in the house. JJ lets out a tired sigh, a little soothed by the quiet and the reminiscing. Marvin takes care of him. Still, he wants to know what that sound was. When Jackie and Chase's distant voices stay distant, he squeezes his dog for courage and creeps out from behind the curtain, blinking at the light of his sun lamp. The leaves of his plants and the lead in the drawings on the walls gleams quietly in the yellow glow. His place, his things, his presents from Marvin and pictures of Marvin and his shared space with Marvin. Maybe when he comes to see him, they can lie down on the mattress and have a nap, or play some games, or watch pictures on Marvin's magic screen together. Yeah, he feels better. Yeah, there's my tough guy. Stop crying, JJ, I mean it. He gets to his feet and sneaks over to the sill of his box where Marvin sometimes leaves him

things. There's a little pad of paper on his shelf, the sort of book you might use to make grocery lists or notes to pin up on the fridge. He pulls it towards himself, looking right and left for one of Marvin's brothers to leap out at him, but nothing happens. Hi, JJ,reads the first page, in messy, crooked handwriting. My name's Chase (I'm the one in the grey shirt) and Jackie is the one in the red hoodie. He doesn't know what a hoodie is. He glances down the way Marvin usually comes from and can still hear them talking. I'm sorry if we scared you. We're still figuring out what's going on. You don't have to get close to us if you don't want to (but I promise we won't hurt you if you do). I thought it would be easier for you to have a pen and some paper. Is there anything you need? Or anything we can do to show you we are on your side? Do you remember us? I also left some food by your door. It's perfectly safe, I promise. I will eat some with you if you want. Please don't be scared. We aren't with Marvin right now, or Anti. We are not going to let anyone hurt you. If there is anything we can do to help please tell us. I hope you do remember us a little bit. If you don't, though, we want to say hi! Maybe you can write me back? The paper is all for you. - Chase There are some smiley faces and even a little drawing of the plate of food on the paper. JJ glances over at his door. A dish with rice and meat is tucked on the plate alongside fat slices of oranges, a neat line of bright green cucumbers with ranch drizzled on, and a big sweet-looking roll with pecans. His mouth waters. He listens for Marvin's brothers one more time, and when they're still far away, he steps over to pick up the plate and brings it back to his mattress, sitting down and eating with relish. It's hot and fresh and home-made, better than he remembers food tasting. Most of the stuff he gets is take-out from a restaurant or leftovers. Not that he minds! It's just a lot of tasty food. He's eating faster than he means to, scooping the rice up with his plastic silverware and tearing the soft bread of the roll between his teeth. Meat between his teeth – hot flesh, red blood – Anti's smile is crimson and beaming, his own eyes are wild with delight – cannibal – No, no. He hugs himself for a few minutes and goes through the breathing exercises Marvin taught him. He's okay. He does not eat all the beef, but he eats everything else, scooping up the leftover ranch with his spoon and licking his fingers clean of the orange juice and sticky frosting from the roll. His stomach hurts with how full he is. It's a good feeling. “Jameson?” He jerks upright, pupils blown. A figure leaps back from his window. “Sorry! I just – I was just checking if you wrote me back or – sorry, I'll give you some space...” He backs away again. Jameson grabs at his chest, shuddering. Sudden voices in his box only ever mean Anti until today. And Anti – Anti hurts him. Even when they're playing. He doesn't think Anti ever learned how not to hurt someone. He thinks that's why he plays like that – testing his limits. Interested in human suffering as a primary characteristic. He plays with the edge of Chase's note, trying to think. He hasn't talked to anyone but Anti and Marvin in so long. What would Anti say? Pet, look, he's almost as pretty a present as you were. Oooh, but already a scar in his head. Who wants a scar on him I did not put there? Hm. Still pretty though. He looks like my master. Tell him to come over here and snuggle with us, Jameson. I will wrap my hands around his throat and see if he chokes the same way Jack does. Jameson chews on the end of his pencil, sighing. They need to stay away. What would Marvin say? Who, Chase? He's my baby brother. I guess I was always pretty attached to him. I was all jealous when Jack added Schneep, and I do snap at Jackie a little when he ticks me off. Chase, though, he's my – he's my little brother, you know? He's a special person. Well, anyway, it was him you stabbed the night I had to lock you up. Within about five

minutes of finding you, you stabbed one of us. I started to imagine what would happen if we just let you roam free and... you get it, right? Why I had to? Yes. Of course he does. This is what he needs to express. He clears his throat and sets his pencil shakily to paper. Dear Chase, Thank you for my dinner. It was very tasty. You are a good cook. I do remember a little of that night you all found me, but not much. I was rather unwell. I am dearly sorry for stabbing you and I hope your shoulder has healed well. I should not like to stab you again, but I do not always have a choice. Unfortunately, despite Marvin's best efforts to find a way to help, I still fall victim to possession against my will. Please leave me alone so I do not stab you or your brothers. If you will get Marvin for me he will know how to fix the box. I am not bothered by your presence but the thought of what might happen to you is very alarming. It would be in the best interest of you and your family to kindly exit this place and leave me to my own devices. There is no need to be concerned about anyone hurting me, though I appreciate your worry on my behalf. Thank you for your time and understanding, and, again, for the food. Sincerely, Jameson Jackson There. That's okay, isn't it? Maybe? P.S. I would like to see Marvin very much. Is he all right? Thank you. Okay, there. Then he will not have to wonder. Hopefully everything's okay and Chase can go bring Marvin for him. Then things will go back to normal. Things will go back to... To normal. Normal is good. Normal is... His box is quiet. The light gleams on the leaves and the lead. There are scratchmarks in the wood where he has tried to claw his way out during breakdowns. He closes his eyes. Things will go back to normal. He can never leave. He lets himself drift off in his mind again, walking in circles around his box with his eyes closed. He's on a beach with his dog and a big family... little kids come running up to him and he picks them up and plays with them in the ocean, yanking them back from the waves or ducking them under the water while they shriek in delight. The sun is so warm and the sand is hot between his toes. Marvin is suntanning on the beach while Chase and Jackie play in the sand beside him, and everyone is laughing. His box is dead quiet. Not even the wind to keep him company. Alone, alone, alone. . “I'll kill him, I'll kill him.” “Jackie. Breathing.” “I'll – oh, he – I'll tear him to pieces, look at this, he – I'll kill him, I'll destroy him, how could he...?” “Jackie. Jackie.” Chase is so tired he doesn't even get to his feet to try and calm Jackie down. He's slumped across the couch of the living room with Queenie on his stomach, kneading her claws into his t-shirt and purring. Her belly's all swollen with kittens, but instead of becoming more reclusive like a normal cat mother, she has decided she wants to be on top of someone twenty-four hours a day. Chase scratches her ears and sighs. “How could he do this?” groans Jackie, for perhaps the hundredth time today. Chase still doesn't have an answer. Jackie is clutching JJ's note in his hands tightly enough that he's definitely torn a hole or two in it. “He made him think he has to be – he has to be in this box. He – he won't come out to me. He won't come out to me.” Chase reaches for Jackie's jacket, catching his sleeve, and tugs his brother down onto the couch beside him. “Jackie. This note – it could be good news.” Jackie looks at him like he's finally lost it. “Hear me out! I know it's... not great that he seems to think he really does have to stay in there. But Jackie, look, he's not scared of Marvin! What if we jumped to conclusions about how this went down?” “He locked my little brother in a box,” says Jackie flatly. “But what if JJ asked him to do that?” Jackie blinks and looks down at the smudged note. “He... does seem to think he's dangerous.” “And, well, he is, isn't he?” “Don't say that.” “Jackie, it's just facts. Er, not JJ, I mean. Anti is the dangerous one, but he uses the

little man like a weapon. That's not his fault, but it's the truth. He did stab me that night.” “Anti stabbed you!” “Yes. But he used JJ's hands. Jackie, is it so wild to think that maybe JJ was just so scared by the things Anti has made him do that he actually asked Marvin to help him protect us from him?” Jackie's eyes water. He shakes his head. Chase sighs and touches his brother's shoulder. “It still wasn't right of Marvin to do what he did. He definitely should have talked to all of us about it and not left us thinking something terrible had happened to him. But if JJ really came to you and begged you to keep him away from us – well, maybe, as a temporary solution, you might take him somewhere safe and secluded, and take care of him yourself, right? Maybe not a little locked box, but... somewhere. It's not – Jackie, it's not unthinkable.” Jackie just shakes his head, staring down at that note. “What's wrong?” asks Chase softly. “Wanted to make him feel safe,” croaks Jackie. “I should have – if I had made him feel safe, he wouldn't have thought he needed to be locked away. And Marvin – yeah, should have told me. Even if JJ did beg. My baby brother.” After a long day, the tears are finally coming dripping down Jackie's face. “I know, man,” whispers Chase. Jackie falls against his shoulder. Chase wraps his arm around him. Queenie nudges her way into their laps and sits contentedly down, purring like a little motorboat. “Maybe JJ and Marvin really were just working together to protect us,” mumbles Jackie. “Maybe he did take good care of him. If he had told us, maybe it is... thinkable.” “I shouldn't have told Marvin we weren't brothers anymore.” Chase rubs at his face. “I was too quick to think it was the worst scenario.” “No, it's not your fault,” replies Jackie softly. “It's his for not telling us, so it really did look like the worst scenario – and my fault, for exploding on him instead of listening. I should have been calmer.” “I honestly think you were surprisingly restrained for the situation,” says Chase, a little amused. “If it were true that he just locked JJ up against you will, you oughta have kicked his ass.” Jackie snorts, rubbing at his face. “Yeah. I guess. I don't know, though. There's just... there's something really off about that box. The kids' toys and the – I don't know. I get a really bad feeling. It's hard to describe.” Chase hums and nods. “Well, what we need to do is talk to JJ more, right?” Jackie perks up, glancing over at him. “Right. Figure all this out.” Chase smiles at him. The weight on his chest is so much lighter than it was a few hours ago. This – this makes so much more sense than what they thought before. Of course it was unimaginable that Marvin would lock JJ up like a prisoner against his will and abandon him in there, unloved. What he did was still wrong, but this alternative is so much lighter than that one. Maybe they can still fix this. Marvin could come back with Schneep, and once they were all on the same page Marvin would apologize for leaving them out of the loop. Together, they'll all be able to find a better way to keep JJ safe from Anti. Then they can all be together like they're supposed to be. Yeah. He can see it now. Marvin and Schneep will come back home, and JJ will come out of the box, and everything will be wonderful. Just a few hours ago, that seemed so impossible. “You're crying again,” says Jackie, touching his face. “Chase?” “No, it's okay,” chuckles Chase, wiping at his face. Happy tears. He's so relieved it hurts in his chest. For a few hours there, he really thought Marvin might have done something that cruel. But not his brother. Not his Marvin. No wonder it didn't make sense. It wasn't true. He should have known Schneep was right. Schneep is always right. Chase chuckles, shaking his head. “Just a rollercoaster day, that's all.” “No fucking kidding. I'm going to go write back to JJ. Do you want to come with?” “No, no, I think I'll get started on dinner.” Chase has already moved on to their reunion meal in his head. He'll cook

something Marvin loves and make JJ so much good food they can't even eat it all. Bread, ice cream, pasta, casserole... there's so many options. Maybe he'll just make everything. His heart is light again. It's going to be okay. “Okay, then,” says Jackie, heading back towards the mirror. “I'll be in there with him if you need me.” “Got it,” Chase replies, getting up to head to the kitchen. “Oh, um – Chase?” “Yeah?” He turns back towards his brother. Jackie smiles at him in the evening light. “I'm really glad you're here.” Chase smiles back. “Me too,” he says.

Things are going to be different. But surely, surely - they have to turn out okay. Just this once.

. Dear JJ, I don't really know how to right to you. This is Jackie. I'm glad you remember me a little. I'm your older brother. You don't want to come out of the box? When did that start? Was it your idea to be locked up like that? I guess I can see how you would think you could be dangerous. Trust me, I've encounterred Anti enough times to get it but if you give me a chance I promise I will keep you safe. JJ there has to be a better way then you being locked up like that! I don't even care if you and Marvin thought it was a good idea it's terrible. You do not have to be a prisoner you are my brother. I really want you to come stay with me. What can I do to get you out of there? I will do anything to make you feel safe, JJ. I promise I will keep you safe. Marvin is okay. He's just staying at another house right now. He knows I am talking to you. I'm worried about how he might have treated you, can we talk some more before you talk to him? Tell me about how he treats you. I want you to be able to make your own choice. Don't worry about him, okay? Who decided you should be in that box? I want you to be here with me. I really want you to be here with me and I promise I will keep you safe. Maybe we can talk face-to-face? Even though I'm bad at sign languge. I have wanted to see you for a really long time. I love you. I don't care if you hid from me or if Anti has used you, that doesn't matter now, none of us ever blamed you for Chase's shoulder. I've been looking for you, JJ. I've been looking for you this whole time. I thought about you every day. I would have looked forever if I had to. Every day of my life. If you think you have to stay in that box, please tell me why. I need to understand. I won't lose you again. You won't lose me too. I'm your big brother and I really want you to be here. I promise I will keep you safe. JB . Dear Jackie, Please, just go. You weren't supposed to know. I will be in trouble and I will hurt you. It is my fault. I'm not like you. I can't fight Anti. I'm not what you think I am. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you looked. He said maybe he would tell you I was dead, but he knew you would not stop looking unless there was a body, so he couldn't even though he wanted to. He loves you. He didn't want you to be in pain. But he didn't know how to stop it either. He cried over it so much. Maybe now that you know, you won't have to worry about me anymore, and you and Marvin can be happy again. I'm happy here. Marvin has taken such good care of me. He treats me very well. Please go home to your brothers and don't think about me. I'm sorry I made you all so sad for so long. Sincerely, JJ There are patches of wetness on the pages. . JJ, who decided you should be in that box? Tell me. . This time, there is no answer. Big blue eyes look up at Jackie from the corner of the cage, and all he wants is to go in there with him. But when he moves forward, JJ flinches and flees back to the bathroom, and all Jackie can do is sink down beside the cage, hold his head in his hands, and try not to think about the words he wanted to tell you I was dead. . Chase: Schneep you ok Schneep: Yeah. We're at Stacy's Chase: Did you tell her Schneep: Kind of. Still not sure really what happened Chase: Us either dude. Marvin say anything more? It sounds like maybe he and JJ both decided he should be locked up or whatever Schneep: He is all freaked out still. I gave him something to calm him down and he fell asleep. I am worried though. He insists the Jameson must be kept in the box. I think Anti is pulling strings Chase: I don't have any idea what's happening at this point Schneep: How is he? Chase: Very shy. Scared of us. He also thinks he has to stay in the box Schneep: Healthy? Chase: He kind of hides. Won't let us in to see him Schneep: I come by tomorrow and check on him Chase: Ok, sounds good. Tell me if anything changes? Schneep: Yes I will Chase: And say hi to the kids for me. Maybe not a good idea for me to have them this weekend after all Schneep: No worries. We will figure everything

out, my friend. Take care of JJ for me Chase: You take care of Marvin. I think it's going to turn out alright. Schneep: Yes, it will. See you tomorrow, love you Chase: Love you . There's blood in his mouth. JJ circles his cage, using a rag to clean the walls and wipe down the boxes and sink. When it's clean, he sits down again, reaching for his violin. There's blood in his mouth. He gets up again and wets the rag. Circles the cage and wipes down the walls and boxes and sink. He sits down and rubs at his face, exhausted. There's blood in his mouth. No. The box is clean. He's not going to clean it again. There's blood in his throat. He covers his face in his hands. Stop imagining it, JJ. Distract yourself. His dog licking at his face, warm sand between his toes, Marvin is holding him – Blood in his throat. In his teeth. He picks flesh out from between his molars. Copper tang against his tongue. He feels the weight of the blood settle in his stomach. He bites into flesh. Jameson. I am not going to listen to this story again. That's fucked. Anti isn't here. Stop crying, okay? The corpse is going cold beneath his fingers. Anti is laughing. The blade swirls around in his hands. He is torn between hoping Anti will stop possessing him so he can have even a minute alone in his own head and praying that Anti never leaves again, because when he does, that is when JJ becomes the victim of his curiosity. There's blood in his mouth. JJ gets up and wets the rag. Circles the cage and wipes down the walls and boxes and sink. “Jameson,” murmurs Jackie. “Are you okay?” He's standing just outside the box, looking at him. JJ avoids his gaze, scrubbing the clean right wall with vigor. Jackie doesn't seem to want to hurt him. He supposes that makes sense. It's not Jackie JJ should worry about – it's what Anti might do to Jackie that's concerning. He wishes Marvin's big brother would leave. “Can you show me your stuffed animals?” asks Jackie. “Or your puppets? Why do you have all those?” JJ pauses, chewing on his nails as he glance at his animals, arranged neatly on his mattress. The finger puppets are in their box by the barred window. They're just for fun. For distraction. He knows each of them intimately. All the puppets have names and families and jobs and aspirations. All the animals have their own place in the world in his head. It's just a game. It's just a game he plays for hours at a time. He tells the same stories on repeat. The important part is that he knows they're not real people right now. Marvin was so relieved. There's blood in his mouth. He circles his cage. Cleans the walls and boxes and sink. It's already clean. He knows it's already clean. “Do you play the violin?” JJ pauses again, eyes flickering over to Jackie. Yes, he does. For hours a day. “Would you show me?” asks Jackie gently. JJ hovers. He's not sure he should. But he never gets to show anyone except Marvin and the toys. It would be nice. He never got to show anyone Marvin's birthday song. It's not going to hurt Jackie. It's just his music. He picks the violin tentatively up. Sets it back down again. Jackie is looking at him uncertainly from the window, smiling a faint, confused smile. Fuck's sake, he's – he's weird, isn't he? Not Jackie – JJ. He turns away from Marvin's brother, biting at his nails again. It's been so long since he interacted with anyone other than Marvin and Anti. What must he look like to Jackie? He's treating him like he's so fragile. Maybe he is. But this is how he lives. This is how he has to live. He used to fight. Does Jackie know that? Does Jackie know that there were days that he would come out of possession kicking and striking at Anti, spitting at him and writhing before Anti could stuff him back into whatever hiding place he had found to contain him? Does Jackie know that JJ used to curse at Marvin and demand to be let go? That he eventually crumpled beneath the isolation and the monotony and just collapsed in on himself, sitting mindless for days at a time no matter how much Marvin begged at him to

get up? Does Jackie know that he hates this? There are tears dripping onto the violin set beneath his chin. He can't think like this. This is where he has to stay. He can't go. He can't leave. There is blood in his mouth. This is what he has to do. He can't tell on Marvin, can't tell Jackie that Marvin dragged him into this box and locked him up while he cried. This is what he deserves because he's done so many bad things and he will do so many more if he is released. Oh, there is blood in his mouth. He can't get out. He has to be a good boy – he has to stay – he has to – “Major freak-out,” he signs to himself. This is what Marvin calls a major freak-out. Yeah. Okay. “Have to stay calm, JJ, you can't come out of your cage. “Come hold me, Marvin, please! “If you calm down I'll come in there. Okay? “Please can I come out just for a few minutes? Oh, God, I want to see a priest. Are you going to keep me here my whole life? I'll die here! I'm going to die here? I can't take it anymore! I can't take it! Oh, God, I want to see the sky, I want to hear birds, oh, God, our father, who art in Heaven – “JJ, be good. Penguin, stop that. You know you can't come out. So be calm. I'm working on finding a solution. “But you never do, you never do!” “JJ.” And now the voice does not sound like Marvin's. JJ isn't sure why. He keeps signing to himself, circling his cage, chewing on his collar. He talks to Marvin. Marvin isn't there, but he knows what he will say. Yes, Marvin is here. They're talking and hugging each other, yes, Marvin is making it better. Marvin isn't here. “Jameson, hey. Jamie, can you look at me? Jamie, can I come in there with you?” Yes, yes, he wants that! He hates to be alone for freak-outs. They last hours and sometimes he slams his head against the wall so hard the light hurts his eyes for days. Sometimes he scratches at the wood til his nails split. Sometimes he clings to Anti and begs him to take him away from this place, because even the torture and the killing would be better than sitting in this same – fucking – spot – for the rest of his miserable existence. He hates to be alone. Alone, alone, alone. “Please, please,” he begs. “Please, please.” “Okay, I'm coming, Jamie, I'm coming.” Marvin doesn't call him Jamie, but it doesn't matter, because a moment later, there are arms around him. There's no torture quite like the touch-starvation, and JJ is someone who knows torture. When Marvin started touching him and hugging him and sitting with him, it changed everything. And the most wonderful part about it is how those months of his skin crawling and his brain going numb and foggy with a bizarre and visceral sort of insanity as he rubbed at his own skin and rocked and day-dreamed about being touched til he could hallucinate it – they all just fade into the background when someone puts their arms around him. He latches on like a cat in a tree. Octopuses himself around their body. And in return – joy of joy, he is being squeezed back, squished against their body and rocked. He is scooped all the way off his feet, making him giggle. He buries his head in their shoulder and shakes, pressed so tightly together it's a little hard to breathe. “My little brother, my little brother,” someone is singing. “My JJ. Here you are. I have you back again, I have you.” He's grabbed by the waist and spun in a circle before he's drawn back to their chest. He laughs weakly and hears them laughing back. “Here you are. Chase was right. This is all that matters. You are everything that matters.” Kisses along the side of his head. Hands on his back and cupping his head. He's rocked back and forth, back and forth. Steady and strong. Gloved hands. A red hood. The smell of rain and sweat and coconut on the jacket. And that feeling – that feeling of safety... Yeah. He remembers. How could he forget? When this was what he dreamed about for so long? Jackie is holding him. His awareness comes back to him in pieces as he comes down from the second or third panic attack of the day. Jackie has crashed down onto the

mattress with him. He's being held like a little kid, but Jackie doesn't seem bothered by his weight or his neediness. Jackie just clings to him. Clings to him as tight as he's clinging to Jackie. JJ cries quietly as he comes back to himself. Jackie wipes at his face and hums to him, nonsense music in the air. “My JJ, my JJ.” He doesn't seem bothered by the crying either. “I missed you, JJ.” His voice breaks. Jackie coughs and kisses the side of his head one more time, his voice fading away. “Have to go,” signs JJ, crying into his chest. “Have to go, before he hurts you!” “I'm so sorry, James, I never really got to practice with the sign language, I should have worked harder...” “Go, go!” He points to the door. “Go away!” Jackie shakes his head at him. JJ should push him away, but he just – he just can't. Marvin will kill him for this. Anti will kill Jackie for this! “Nothing's going to hurt you anymore,” whispers Jackie. “Never, you're never leaving my sight again. I'm never going to let anything happen to you ever again.” And he wants it to be true so badly it hurts. He just clings to Jackie, shaking. “Oh! He let you get in there with him!” A new voice in the expanse of the mirrors. JJ feels Jackie nod. “Do you guys... do you want some space?” “Yeah, please,” whispers Jackie. “Maybe he'll let you come in too in a minute, but if we could just... just get a minute...” “Just text me if you need anything.” And it's just him and Jackie in the quiet of his box again. “Nothing matters but this,” sings Jackie, brushing at his hair. “My baby brother. I love you.” Love, love, love. He closes his eyes and holds to Jackie, and just for one moment of weakness, he lets himself have this.

#marvin's cage

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

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4x10: Heaven and Hell

Then:

TFW needed a little work before they got it right

Now:

We start off right where we left off in the last episode. The angels are here for Anna. She has to die.

Uriel attacks Ruby and Dean tries to stop it. Cas starts walking towards Sam, and despite Sam’s pleas, he boops him into unconsciousness. Suddenly there’s lights and Uriel and Cas are zapped to places unknown. (Cas’s wings in the flash...emotion hearts). They find Anna with a ridiculously severe wrist wound and a mysterious sigil on the mirror written in her blood. She sent them away.

They hide Anna away at Bobby’s. Dean and Ruby bond over hex bags. It’s almost cute.

Um, Bobby’s not home because he’s in the Dominican (and I just Googled “Hedonism and Dominican” ... probably shouldn’t have). Anyway, Sam’s got exposition on Anna. This bought of psychosis isn’t her first. When she was a toddler, she was convinced her real father was “very mad -- like wanted-to-kill-her mad.” Anna interrupts their little chat.

Sam asks her why the angels want her. She has no clue. She’s upset that her parents are dead and her life has been turned upside-down. They need to find out what her deal is.

Enter PAM!

(I know I’m technically not supposed to like that bit of sexual harassment but her exchange with Sam is SO funny and cute. He’s so earnest and they play the victim card with her, but she ain’t having it and she’s going to have some fun at Sam’s expense. And Dean’s smile at the end, JOY.)

Pam introduces herself to Anna and sets to hypnotizing her. She asks about Anna’s father and Anna freaks out. Dean tries intervening and gets knocked out. Pam wakes her and Anna remembers who she is. “I’m an angel.”

Pam and Ruby are side-eyeing this “friendly” angel. Turns out Anna was Cas and Uriel’s boss in angel-land. She disobeyed, which is the worst thing an angel can do (WEEPS for future Cas.) She ripped out her grace and fell to Earth. Now Heaven and Hell want her. She’s determined to get her grace back.

“So you’e just going to take some devine bong hit, and shazam, you’re Roma Downey?” Ah, Dean, you do have a way with words (Also, dude loves pop culture SO much that Touched By an Angel is on his radar. BLESS THIS BOY.)

Sam remembers reading about a meteor about 9 months before Anna was born and Ruby responds, “You’re pretty buff for a nerd.” Get a room, you two.)

For Real Life Jesus They’re Cute Science:

Ruby apologizes for getting Sam involved with this war. She’s afraid of Alistair too. He’s no joke in Hell. She tells Sam he should send Alistair back to Hell, but he’s got to practice to do it. Sam refuses.

Anna’s star gazing when Dean returns from taking Pamela home. Dean asks Anna why the angels saved him. Dean then asks why she would want to be human. He lists all the bad things about the human condition, and she lists all the good.

Ultimately, it’s the emotions of being human that matter so much to her. Obedience and emotionless faith is overrated. Only 4 angels have ever laid eyes on God (Well...five now!) Anna complains about watching over Earth, waiting for order from a father who might never return, and Dean laughs and laughs. I really love how Anna’s story shifted to Cas. Dean and Anna give each other looks, but Sam, in all his glory, interrupts. He’s found something!

They head off for a tree in Kentucky that is probably the place where Anna’s grace fell.

They get to the tree and Anna can sense that it’s not there anymore. Someone took it.

Later, Anna’s listening to Angel Radio and hears the angels say that if the Winchesters don’t turn over Anna, they’ll throw Dean back in Hell. Dean is speechless, but Sam wants to know what kind of weapon works on an angel. Dean’s in freak out mode --they need to find an answer.

Later, Dean’s reading a book by flashlight and Anna approaches him to thank him for all that they’ve done. He brushes her sentiment aside. She ponders the thought that she doesn’t deserve to be saved (AND I need to stop and talk about how this parallels Cas in Purgatory...he thanks Dean for everything, he believed he didn’t deserve to be saved. BLAF. And Dean and Anna are more canon than Dean and Cas? I think not.)

Dean lets slip that there’s something he deeply regrets as well, and Anna takes the opportunity to reveal that she knows what he did last summer - er, in Hell. He crumbles when she tells him to forgive himself. (Narrator voice: and then he spent ten more years failing to do exactly that.)

“You are not alone,” she tells him and I remember why I like her (before a later plot twist scrubs her away). Anna MAKES A MOVE and kisses him. It IS their last night on Earth, after all. (I quietly eat the script pages for “Free to be you and me” while simultaneously high-fiving Anna for her excellent taste.)

Cut to a montage of Impala sex which cuts out all the bits of sex in a car where you’re crammed in a corner awkwardly trying to get off your clothes without kicking the other person. Anna touches Castiel’s handprint, laying her own over the lines of his fingerprints. And I know that it was likely just a way to set up the Dean-is-connected-to-Heaven parallels in this brief shining moment when both boys actually had non-dead love interests at the same time. But MAN it sure cuts me open now.

Ruby watches Sam sleep, then heads out to a crossroads. She burns her protective hex bag and Alistair appears.

Ruby offers to give up Anna in return for her and the Winchesters’ safety. Alistair has another proposal…

Uriel greets Dean back in the barn. Dean looks confused for a moment before he realizes that Uriel has invaded his dream so they can have a little chat. Commander Cas isn’t around - “You see, he has this weakness. He likes you.” Uriel reveals that he has Anna’s grace. But nya nya nya he won’t give it back.

We cut to Ruby, naked and strapped down as this show is wont to do with its demon women. Alistair tortures her with the demon knife. She refuses to tell him where Anna is...but she will show him.

Back in the barn during waking hours, Dean drinks his feelings until the doors burst open and Uriel and Castiel arrive.

Sam demands to know how the angels found them, and Castiel glances meaningfully at Dean.

Anna realizes the deal that must have been brokered: herself in exchange for Sam’s safety. We experience many sad close-ups of Dean’s self-hatred and it HURTSSSS. Anna kisses Dean and assures him that he’s forgiven.

Anna’s ready to face the angels at last. Cas apologizes, but she brushes it aside. “You don’t know the feeling.” First of all, Anna, rude.

For This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us Science:

Alistair shows up in the barn with his demon goons. The Winchesters, Anna, and Ruby skedaddle to the fringes of the barn, leaving the angels and demons to posture toxically at each other.

Fisticuffs ensue! Alistair pins Cas, growling Latin at him until Dean whacks him in the head. Anna takes advantage of the fight to have her Ariel moment.

She orders everyone to close their eyes as her own fire consumes her. It blasts Alistair away, and Castiel gently pulls Uriel away as well. Everyone congratulates themselves for their excellent plan to pit the demons and angels against each other.

Later, Sam and Dean recap their feelings at the Impala.

For Rural Roads Science:

Dean brings up something Alistair said during the fight - that he “had promise.” I finally remember during this rewatch that Dean’s been denying what happened in Hell all along. Dean starts to talk. “It wasn’t four months,” he begins. “It was more like forty years. They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you-- Until there was nothing left. And then suddenly I would be whole again. Like magic. Alistair at the end of every day - every one - he would come over . He would make me an offer to take me off the rack if I put souls on. If I started to torture. And every day I told him to stick it where the sun shines. For thirty years, I told him. But then I couldn’t do it anymore, Sammy.”

“I got off that rack - god help me I got right off it - and I started ripping ‘em apart.” The weight of the torture he inflicted presses down on him. Sam tries to reassure him, but Dean continues to rip out our hearts and leave them cold and gathering refuse in the gutter. “How I feel? This inside me. I wish I couldn’t feel anything, Sammy. I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing.”

Dean Quotechester Deserved Better:

Any chance I can dick over an angel, I'm taking it

What do they want me for? Why did they save me?

Feelings are overrated, if you ask me

When you got Godzilla and Mothra on your ass, best to get out of their way and let them fight

I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy. I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #anna milton #uriel #ruby #spn 4x10 #heaven and hell #supernatural season 4

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Lover, Lover, Number 9

Second day of HWOL!! Today’s prompt was Love Potion!! Read here or on my ao3 @ej_writer

Word Count: 4,593

Rating: T

Warnings: Non-Consensual Touching (Pretty much blink and you miss it and very non-explicit. It happens while a person(s) is under the influence of a love potion.)

It’s all Max’s fault, honest.

For the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, Billy’s been trying to pick the best person to be his date. Not that Valentine’s was really that important to him, per se, but he’d made a bet.

His step sister, the little brat, had made a wager that if he didn’t have himself a date by the fourteenth of February, he’d be forced to drive her everywhere she wanted to go for a whole year.

There was no way he was about to fork over that much of his time to some snotty middle schoolers, but finding someone he’s willing to go out with, a condition of Max’s bet was that it couldn’t just be a hookup, ended up being a lot harder than he anticipated.

Before he knew it, there were only two days left before he either got a date, or subjected himself to the dweeb-orama gang.

He tried to ask Carol, since Tommy dumped her right before the big day and she seemed to be into him, or at least how his ass looked in his jeans, but she tells him she doesn’t want to deal with the drama. So he tries Tommy, but he wants commitment and feels like Billy’s just in it to best Max, which, yeah, he sort of is. Everyone else follows the same pattern, can’t keep up with his reputation, can’t trust him in a relationship, on and on and on.

It’s over breakfast one morning, as he groggily makes him and his sister both a bowl of cereal, that Max asks him, “Why don’t you just ask Steve?”

Billy acts unphased, doesn’t even bother to look at her. “Steve who?”

“C’mon stupid.” His sister rolls her eyes and drags a bowl over towards herself. “Everyone knows you like Steve Harrington.”

“Do not.” He shovels a mouthful of cereal in his mouth.

“Right. Lemme guess, you don’t eat like a pig either?”

“Very funny.” He fixes her with a glare. “I’m serious shitbird, just because I like him doesn’t mean I like him.”

She nods and agrees. “Sure.”

“And just because he's nice to me doesn’t mean I have to have the hots for him.”

“If you insist.” Her bottom lip juts out as she agrees with overemphasis.

“What is your problem?” He snaps.

“I’m just agreeing with you. You don’t like Steve Harrington.” There’s a mischievous smile darkening her sweet face as she tells him matter-of-factly, “But, if you’re really desperate, I know a way to get him to like you.”

And Billy already knows what she means, of course the little shit would suggest something like that. “Nuh-uh. No way, I am not using magic.”

“Why not? Clearly you need it.”

“Because I can do it on my own, brat. Just don’t want to.” He's too defensive for it to not be true and they both know it, so before he lets a thirteen year old do anymore damage to his ego, he adds, “Can't deal with your bull this early.”

Max looks at him all smug like, her eyebrows raised as she hides a knowing smile behind her cereal bowl, but she does let it go, if not just to watch her step brother stew in silent annoyance. She’d gotten under his skin so easy, and she thought it was funny.

Her step brother, on the other hand, does not, and narrows his eyes at her, practically snarling at the look on her face. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t even saying anything!” She bites back.

Billy grumbles and dumps his bowl in the sink, and leaves to his room to avoid babysitting his sister.

He’s starting to realize that Max had set him up. The real reason she made the stupid bet wasn’t to torture him with driving her and her nerds around, but because she thought she could hook him up with Steve.

But that doesn’t matter, because he's not pining after Steve Harrington, no matter what his little sister says.

Sure, Steve had invited him over to his place a few times, but that was just a courtesy since they were friends from basketball. And it didn’t matter that he happened to be the prettiest boy Billy ever laid eyes on, with his soft hair the color of chestnut and his doe eyes just as dark, and his long nose and his pretty red lips and-

Okay, maybe he was a little into Harrington, but again, he wasn’t going out with his best friend just because his step sister dared him to.

He can’t just call the bet off, but he’s not willing to lose either. The clock was ticking, Valentine’s Day getting closer and closer, so he’d just have to settle on somebody soon.

Admittedly, it would make things a lot easier just to cheap out and use magic, after all, he’d been trying and failing to get a date for weeks, but that could be dangerous, and Billy’s been barred from using his powers for a few years now anyways.

His father was ashamed to have a freak for a son, so ever since Max and her mother came around, he wasn’t actually supposed to use any magic at all anymore, not even for the most insignificant of things. Hell, with how tight of a leash Neil kept on him, his step sister wasn’t even technically supposed to know he’d inherited the knack from his mother.

He doesn’t really listen to that rule, but there’s no way for Neil to keep tabs on that kind of thing, so he still puts a charm on his and his sisters bedroom doors every night to keep unwanted guests out, and he still uses spells for his convenience whenever he can get away with it.

In all honesty, he could do without that stuff. Incantations were boring, spells were too basic. His favorite, the one thing he misses having the liberty to do, that’s got to be potions.

Before his mother’d left him behind, ran off to live the uninhibited life of a free spirit every witch dreamed of having, she had been very proud that Billy had taken after her in his powers, and in his skill for potion making especially.

They would make them together a lot of the time, huddled up down in the basement when his dad wasn’t home so she could show him the ropes and teach him all the recipes she knew.

He’d caught on real quick, well enough that she didn’t need to hover after the first few attempts at one type. Sometimes he wishes he’d been less proficient for just a little longer, so she’d have had a reason to stay and keep helping him.

Among their most common to make though were potions of luck and protection, elixirs, anything positive really. His mother may have also, on occasion, made a more powerful potion, one to keep under the pillows, in a flask on her hip, to spike her husband's coffee with every morning, just so Neil couldn’t hurt her or her son, but Billy was sworn to secrecy on that one.

Under his bed he still had a trunk full to bursting with everything of his mothers’ he had been able to keep, including their already prepared potions. Rows and rows of intricate crystal bottles, some still full to the top while others had only a few drops left, depending on how useful they were, all neatly displayed along with the rest of the memories of his mother.

She absolutely never allowed him to make anything dangerous, the first thing she ever taught him was to always keep hate out of his magic, so she’d let him practice more complicated and powerful potions with something a little less destructive.

Something like love potions.

It becomes his sort of trademark, the earthy smell of rose hips and cinnamon clinging to his skin from hours bent over their big cauldron they kept stored away. Even now, without having brewed anything for almost a year since they’d moved houses, it still lingered, like an aura.

They made up for some of his best work, the hardest of the love potions coming easier to him than the easiest of the medicinal ones. The best he’d ever made was a platonic love potion that his mom let him use the teensiest drop of to stop a fight between his friends at school, and to this day he was still proud of that one.

His mom had always said it made sense that that would be where he excelled, loving with his whole heart was just in his nature, and his craft was the reflection of that. In the same sense, it comes as no surprise when he’d stopped being able to brew anything stronger than potpourri after she’d walked out on him and broke that big heart right in two.

He didn’t know if keeping every of the potions that he made was genuinely because of their potential usefulness, like he tried to convince himself, or if it was a way to hold onto a time when he was still good at what he did. A time when he was happy.

Were he going to use one of those potions he kept stashed away, as Max had not so subtly suggested, he knows exactly which one he would choose. Not number six, not number twenty-seven, he would need number nine.

Not that he would, because he refuses to use his magic for petty relationships. Yet another thing his mom had drilled into him from the start was to never use his gift to take advantage of other people.

But then another day passes, and Billy's got to at least consider it, if not only for the sake of him not having to provide chauffeuring services to his least favorite bratpack.

In all reality, it wouldn’t be so bad to date Steve, he was nice enough and cute enough, but he feels they were sort of of the same polarity. They could get along just fine now, but there was some force, some energy between the two that kept them apart.

For every step they take forward, say, Steve agreeing to keep his magical secret from the moment they met, they have to take one back.

That fact had been well established in his mind since the moment he noticed himself making heart eyes; he and Steve just weren’t going to work out. Not after months of oblivious pigtail pulling, not after pushing Steve out of his own social circle, and definitely not after their fist fight in November.

Billy thinks he takes rejection from Tommy and Carol and everyone else in stride, but Steve wasn’t like them. The relationship they already had teetered on the line between rivals and friends, always one argument away from going back to that place, and Billy’s unwilling to lose that constant.

Of course, he wouldn’t have to worry about rejection and ruining friendships if he used magic.

But that was wrong. Number 9 was the strongest of the strong. It was said that it was powerful enough to make oil and water mix, but even then its effects only lasted for exactly twenty minutes. The jig’d be up quick, and his pretty boy would be right back to hating him.

There was always the slightest chance too that it were brewed just right, and Steve would love him forever, the bond that would form between them the moment he drank from Billy’s magic maybe enough to last, despite their differences. It wasn’t guaranteed to turn out bad, so maybe, just maybe, he’d give it a shot.

Godammit, had Max gotten in his head.

~~~~~

Billy knows he’s an idiot, a complete and total dumbass for showing up to the party with a crystal vial in his pocket, but he can’t help it.

There’s no guarantee he’s even going to use it, it’s just in his pocket as a sort of security blanket. He doesn’t even catch a glimpse of Steve anywhere among the crowd, so he sees no harm in it.

Well, at least not until someone, he’d have to guess it was Tommy, slips a hand into the pocket of Billy’s jacket, apparently able to sense a bottle from a mile away, and steals it. Like it’s just his own secret stash of alcohol instead of the most powerful piece of magic he’d sure as hell ever owned, let alone to have ever been used in Hawkins, a traditionalist town known for its distinct lack of witchcraft.

Only he doesn’t notice that it’s been swiped, not until he catches a glimpse of the gentle pink glow that only he could see in someone else’s hand from across the room, hovering just inches above the punch bowl.

He’d like to think he’s pretty powerful in his craft, he'd been raised by a witch who’d in her time been strong enough to get kicked out of her coven for threatening the High Priest, but in that moment he just sort of freezes.

There’s an infinite number of spells he could’ve used; he knows how to stop time, how to recall objects, and about a thousand and one other handy little ways to stop the vial from being overturned into that bowl.

And yet, his brain freezes up, and before he can do anything about it, there’s a thick fog rolling off of the bowl, and the air smells sweet and sticky like ladies perfume, and the liquid is shining all bright pink.

Billy is officially screwed.

It’s one thing for a single person to drink a love potion, but mixing it with any other liquid? That shit turned into a weapon.

He knows he’s not gonna make it in time, but he’s at least gotta try to stop it, get people as far away from it as possible. He muscles his way across the room, pushing past the crowd of teenagers to try to get to it first. “Nobody fucking touch the punch.”

But his voice calling over the crowd draws their attention to him, and there’s at least fifty hollow gazes fixed right on him. Judging by the looks on their faces, the pinpoint pupils and the awe stricken smiles, he’s too late.

There’s one breathless moment where Billy realizes what's about to happen and tries to back away before all hell breaks loose, but all at once they all surge forward trying to get their hands on him.

Momma didn’t stick around long enough to teach him how to discharge a potion, and he wasn’t going to make it the whole twenty minutes in this herd. The front door is his only escape.

It’s so dark in the room, other than the light from the potion’s ambience, that he can’t make out who’s who, whose lips those are on his neck, whose hands are on his hips and tangled up in his hair, so he just trudges forward as best he can, trying to shake each person off, only to get another wrapped around him.

But, in the magic induced state, they’re strong, and they don’t want to let him go. Fingernails dig into his skin, arms wrap tight around his waist, any way they can hold onto him to try keep him from moving any closer to that door, they do.

It’s like walking in gelatin, so many people trying to stop him, and it takes him way longer than it should, but he makes it to the door.

Before he can open it, someone’s pushing his back up against it and reaching a hand up under his shirt. Another someone presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He feels blindly for the door knob and gets it in his hand after a few attempts, the ordeal being all the harder when there were so many people who wanted those hands on them, and twists it.

The rush of cold air from outside and the lights from the streetlight on the sidewalk helps a little to dilute the strength of the potion, weakening just enough the grip of those under his influence that he can wriggle out and slam the door shut behind him.

He keeps his back pressed against it, his arms holding on to either side of the door frame as tight as he could so nobody else can get out. Checking his watch, there were still about seven more minutes until the potion would wear off.

He could see the faintest glow of pink light shining from under the door and behind the curtains on the front window, and he thought about what they were doing without him. Probably talking about how he was the coolest, the ones who’d gotten their hands on him bragging.

No one but him would remember what happened anyways.

To make his escape, wait out the rest of the potion's effects, and hightail it before anybody remembered he was even here, well, that would have just been too easy. Because this is Billy Hargrove, so of course, at that very moment, who would approach the house but Steve fucking Harrington.

“Hargrove?” He looks confusedly up at Billy, and climbs a few of the porch steps to ask him, “What’re you doin’ out here man?”

“Party’s a bummer. Thinking ‘bout ditching.” The nonchalance he’s able to portray in his voice is in direct contrast with the way his hair is frizzed out and his clothes are all messy from what happened inside.

Steve doesn’t seem to pay it any mind though, because he offers him a smile, and responds to Billy like this situation didn’t look weird at all, with him sprawled out over the door and in such bad shape. “Mind if I join you? Wasn’t really looking forward to all the people tonight anyways.”

“Uh, if you give me,” Billy turns his wrist, still not letting go of the door, and reads the time on his watch again, “three and a half minutes, then we can blow.”

Steve leans a little to try to see in the window. “Is somethin’ going on?”

“Nothin’, nothin’ just uh, told Tom I’d stay ‘til quarter after.” It’s a bullshit excuse, Steve already knows he and Tommy aren’t even that close, but Billy just focuses on counting down the seconds and doesn’t think too much about it. “And…. we’re good.”

“You are so weird, dude.” Steve remarks while he waits for Billy on the steps. He looks back over his shoulder when they’re walking away but visibly shrugs it off. “Did you drive?”

“You know I don’t park my baby on the street.” His prized Camaro had yet to make an appearance at one of these parties, for a platitude of reasons, but the main one being that he might have to break his mother’s golden rule and put a curse on someone if his beauty got so much as a scratch.

“Figures.” Steve remarked. He didn’t think the Camaro was all that, thought it was too loud and too fast.

His BMW isn’t too far off, showing up late meant he had to take a street spot instead of cramming into the driveway, but that only made it easier to get out.

While he starts it up, he asks Billy, “Where are we going? I picked last time.”

“Far away from here as possible.” He mutters in response.

Before he pulls away from the curb, Steve asks, “Did something happen, Bills? You’re acting all, weird.” There was genuine concern laced into his voice, none of that playfulness that they usually had.

But for Billy, anything would be better than having to own up to what had happened. He’d have to admit to the whole, desperate for love, he used a potion he made when he was seven to try to make Steve Harrington fall for him, and that was not ideal, to put it simply.

Only, he felt obligated to explain, because he knew what Steve was thinking had happened. He knew too much about the sorts of things Billy told not a single other soul.

His magic was one thing. Where nobody was really supposed to know Hawkins got a new spell caster for the first time in ages, Steve had some grandma or someone who was a witch and had recognized that shit in a heartbeat.

Observational skills like that, it was no surprise he’d figured out the truth about his father too. About where the bruises and the scars came from.

So he knows that’s what Steve’s thinking right now, that Billy’s acting off because of something his dad did, and it would feel wrong not to tell him the truth, to be pitied when nothing even happened this time. Still, he’s not exactly thrilled about having to confess about the potion.

“Someone brought a fucking Number 9 to the party.” Billy flips the sun visor down to see himself in the little mirror there. There’s kiss marks all over him that he tries to rub off with his sleeve, but the leather doesn’t do much but make the skin flush.

“Shit, not a number nine.” Steve says it like he’s confident in it, but his gaze keeps flickering over to Billy to gauge his reaction. It’s clear that he has no idea what he’s talking about. “What's- what’s number nine?”

Billy snorts and explains, “Only the strongest love potion out there. Went straight into the punch.”

He doesn’t have much of a grip on the magical world, but he knew enough to guess that was a problem. “What kind of a dipstick would bring that?”

Billy stopped wiping at his face and looked over at Steve with that ‘come on, stupid’ look on his face. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the only dipstick who walked away from the place covered in fucking lipstick.”

“Really?” There’s a teasing tone in his voice, like a parent who found out there kid had a crush, and it makes Billy want to sock him. “And who does Billy Hargrove need a love potion for?”

“For you.” It takes all the courage he has, but he admits it. His eyes flicker nervously between Steve and everywhere else, waiting for his response.

And what he gets is, “Pfft. You know I don’t need magic to get the ladies.” Let it be known that no one ever accused Steve of being the brightest.

As if he hadn’t noticed that Steve was a skeezer. As if his heart hadn’t already been broken a thousand times over because of it. “Yeah, no shit.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but maybe a little bit in denial too. “Then why’d you bring me a love potion?”

“Steve.” It sounds like a plea, an exhausted attempt to get him to understand, but Steve isn’t in on it.

“What?” Billy just sort of raises his eyebrows in response, and something about it makes it click in Steve’s head.

His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, and when he speaks again, his voice is all breathless, “You were going to use it on me?”

“Doesn’t take a genius.” And that’s the end of it.

They don’t talk about it. Steve drives them out to the quarry in silence, occasionally looking over at Billy like he wants to say something, but doesn’t.

As soon as they get there, before Steve’s even got the chance to put the bimmer in park, Billy’s out of the car and sitting on the edge of the rocky lookout.

He needs a smoke, needs the burning in his lungs to distract him from the weight of what he had just admitted to Steve. His hands are shaking as he fumbles with a match, trying and failing to light the cigarette on three different matches before he decides to give up.

Steve taps his shoulder and hands Billy his zippo before sitting down next to him. “You didn’t have to.”

Billy lights it up and takes a long drag, giving Steve back his light with a cigarette as thanks, filling his lungs with as much smoke as he can before he can respond. “Have to what?”

“Try to use magic on me.” Steve’s staring down at his hands, calculating every last word he says. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah, I know Harrington. It was creepy. Just drop it.” There’s a sharpness in that tone that hasn’t been there for months, and it makes the both of them wince.

Steve explains himself, hurt by the coldness, “No, I think it’s sweet! I mean, that you would do that for me.”

“Get over yourself. Was just messin’ around, wanted to see if I could do it.” That’s what gives him away. Billy was too sure of his own prowess for that to be all of it, and so Steve decides to press him for the truth.

“Don’t you want to know what I would’ve said though, if you asked me?”

“Honestly? No.” He really, really does.

Steve pretends like he doesn’t hear that and tells him anyways. “I like you Billy.”

It hitches his breath to hear that, but Billy’s got to be rational. “Yeah? You like me or the cinnamon?”

Steve’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What?”

“It’s an ingredient in the potion, Steve. Do you mean it or did you get a whiff of that shit somehow?” He still doesn’t look at him, just stares down at the churning water, and it registers with Steve that he doesn’t want to see absent admiration, pinpoint pupils, any sign that this isn’t real.

So he assures him, his voice as soft as it can be, “I mean it. I really really like you, and if you’re not gonna believe me, then- then I guess I’ll just have to prove it.“

Who would’ve expected Steve to make the first move? Stumbling, bumbling Steve Harrington, the one to lean in first. But he is, it’s him who uses those long fingers to turn Billy’s face towards his and presses their lips together.

If, you know, there wasn’t a more pressing matter at hand, like the fact that the boy he’d just tried to use love magic on was kissing him without the assistance of said magic, Billy might’ve been a little disappointed in himself to not be the one to initiate it.

But they’d have time for that argument later, about who did what when, right now his mind was more focused on not just sitting there, on moving his lips against the other boys and

It feels like forever before Steve pulls away to put a hand on the back of Billy’s head so he can bring their foreheads together.

Steve’s breathless as he says, “Wanted to do that since the first time I saw you in the parking lot.”

“Good. Didn’t want to have to brew any more.” Billy says without a hint of seriousness.

Steve nudges him with his elbow. “I’m trying to be romantic, you ass.”

“No seriously, hibiscus is super hard to come by around here, couldn’t afford to waste any on you.”

Crossing his arms, Steve fixes Billy with a stern look that makes him laugh.

“M’only teasin’ ya pretty boy.” He crumples his cigarette into the asphalt and puts his hand on Steve’s knee. “Kiss me like that again, would ya?”

And he does. Every time Billy asks, Steve’ll kiss him just like that first time, soft and gentle and sweet in a way he’s never had, no magic required.

Needless to say, Billy definitely won that bet.

#harringrove week of love #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej!#this is based on a fraggles episode! I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity!#I thought I wasn’t going to like this but it turned out to be one of my favorites #even though it took way longer than it was supposed to lol #super proud of how it turned out though

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alovesongshewrote · 4 years

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Douxtober Day 6: A Lot Happens in a Short Amount of Time | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You remember the child surprise from the Witcher? yeah, this was it’s distant cousin, the surprise child. (No one is pregnant, I promise)

Word Count: 2,442

Warnings: Children (and i ignore how both kids and adoption work)

A/N: Oh look, a Douxtober fic! no whump here! And it’s technically a part of aaty (if you want it to be)

Tag List: @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Life was a funny thing. Sometimes you got tortured, sometimes you moved in with your boyfriend, his familiar, sometimes your boyfriend died and came back to life trying to save the world, and sometimes, you accidentally adopted a child.

It just be like that occasionally.

And you could explain this! You totally could, 100%. This wasn’t just the two of you plus Archie and technically Zoe shoplifting a kid, there was a lot more to it than that.

It was about a month after all of the Arcane Order nonsense. You and Douxie, your aforementioned boyfriend, had returned to Arcadia. Everything was calm and chill, which was a really nice change from the usual world-ending chaos. However, Arcadia was still Arcadia, and that meant monsters.

You were decent in a fight, Archie could turn into a goddamn dragon, and Douxie had saved the world multiple times, so you took it upon yourselves to defend the town from the things that went bump in the night. Besides, you wanted to give the rest of your troll-hunting friends a break.

This turned out to be a pretty good plan. It kept the town safe, let Archie get some fresh air, and gave you and Douxie time alone. (Remember kids, monster-fighting is a great activity for date night.) Sometimes you dragged Zoe out with you, which she enjoyed more than she let on.

All was well, and then suddenly, kid.

As has been stated, it be like that sometimes. You know the child surprise from the Witcher? Yeah, this was its distant cousin, the surprise child.

You’d been caught in a battle with another friggin shadow mephit or ten, and it wasn’t going super well if you were completely honest. Zoe was fighting on a roof, Douxie was stuck in a tree, Archie was trying to free Douxie from that tree, and you had given up on your usual weapon for a folding chair. It was mildly effective, but not enough to save you. One of the mephits knocked you to the ground, preparing to take a sizable bite of your arm before a blast of purple slapped the bitch away. You got to your knees, looking out into the night to see a frickin eight-year-old, arms outstretched, purple light surrounding their fists.

“Uh, are you guys seeing this?”

Zoe gracefully leapt from the roof while Douxie fell out of the tree he was in.

“The child? Yep.”

“Ow.”

You winced, walking over to help your boyfriend to his feet, “Ah, you okay, babe?”

He nodded, although his focus was on the kid, who was taking out shadow mephits like a bawse. You would have been confused, but hey, you could fight like that when you were that age. Though that had come from years on the streets fighting for your life, so there was a place for concern.

“Hey, should we be helping them?”

“Yeah, probably,” you said, picking up your folding chair and yeeting yourself into the fray.

With the extra assistance, the mephits went down a little easier. You and your gang made sure to watch out for the sudden child, but they were pretty damn capable. It only took ten minutes for the tide to turn. Douxie opened the portal to limbo, banishing the mephits from the material plane.

You took half a second to be excited before turning to the random frickin kid who just kicked all the ass. Their expression was grim, with no trace of pride. It was kind of a mood, actually.

“Hey, kid! You ok?”

Their attention was yoinked from the pavement to your face, “I’m fine.”

You nodded, cautiously approaching them, “You fought really well. Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Why does it matter?” their tone was biting and angry. Or as biting and angry as a child’s tone could be.

“It doesn’t, I was just curious.”

“Don’t be. It’s fine.” Man, did this kid sound like a younger version of you? or what? It was kind of scary actually.

“Alright, I won’t be,” you raised your hands in surrender, taking a step back.

This ‘fun’ conversation had caught everyone else’s attention. Archie flew around the kid before landing on your shoulder, “They won’t, but I will be. Where are your parents?”

“Don’t have any.”

Oh, mood. For all of you, actually.

“Do you have another guardian?”

“No.”

“Why are you fighting monsters at this hour?”

“Because I feel like it, ok!?”

Archie pulled back a bit, “It’s a school night…”

You gave the familiar a pat on the head while Zoe made her approach, “No, the cat is right, it is a school night.”

“Cat? That’s a dragon!” you smiled a little as the kid finally acted like a kid.

“He’s a shapeshifter, actually,” Douxie said, almost making you jump. You hadn’t realized that he was behind you. Arch made his way off of your shoulders and onto your boyfriend’s.

“A sHAPESHIFTER!?” the kid cried, magic again at the ready.

“No, no, no!” you exclaimed, putting yourself between the kid and the cat, “He’s a friend. I promise.”

“Your words mean nothing to me! I don’t know you! Any of you!”

Ok, that was fair. You sighed and got down to the kid's level, “Ok. My name’s (Y/N). The shapeshifter is called Archie, but that’s not his full name.”

The kid blinked a bit, lowering their hands, “Wh-what’s his full name?”

Archie flew down to the ground beside you, continuing towards the child, “Archibald. Pleased to meet you.”

“It’s… nice to meet you too-?” the kid sounded confused, and they were reminding you of yourself more and more with every second. On the bright side, they dropped their hands completely, magic fading into the night.

“Right, well,” Douxie got on your level, kneeling beside you to meet the kid’s eyes, “I’m Douxie and this is Zoe-”

“‘Sup.”

“What’s your name?”

They hesitated, looking between you and Archie, who was currently sniffing the child.

“My name is Robin.”

You smiled, the ice officially broken, “It’s nice to meet you, Robin.”

You let the kid follow you home. Through a bit of careful chatting, you learned that Robin was about eight, and their parents were wizards when they were alive. After their parents passed, Robin was on their own, running around the country and fending for themself. They reminded you so much of yourself that it hurt. Now there was a child sleeping on your couch, arms thrown around Archie which the familiar didn’t really mind, and you had no idea what to do next.

You were sitting on your counter, a cup of coffee in one hand while the other messed with Douxie’s hair. Zoe was at the kitchen table, lying limply across two chairs while her tea cooled in its mug. Your lovely, lovely wizard boyf was leaning on the counter next to you, pretty relaxed considering the day's events.

“So, what do we do with this child?”

“They might have to stay with us for a while. It doesn’t sound like they have anywhere else to go.”

Zoe laughed a little, trying to keep quiet for Robin’s sake, “You two just straight up adopted a kid. Good luck with that one.”

“Thanks, Zo,” your tone was flat, but you too saw the amusement in this situation, “Thank god I studied medicine, honestly. If I hadn’t we’d be sooo screwed.”

“Well, you know the people in this town,” Douxie moved closer to you, “Nobody tips.”

You nodded your agreement, kissing the top of Douxie’s head.

“We should be careful though. These days, you never know where the next ‘end of the world’ will come from.”

“Eh,” you said, looking at Robin asleep on your couch. They looked so peaceful, and you wondered if you ever looked like that at Robin’s age. They reminded you so much of yourself, so much of what you had once been, “I think it’ll be okay.”

There was a moment of silence as you all lost yourselves in thought.

“Well, I’d love to stay and watch you guys sign the adoption papers, but I have a shift tomorrow, so,” the pink-haired witch jumped up from her chairs and wandered past you guys, “Later nerds.”

“Bye Zo.”

“See you tomorrow.”

You lept off the counter, picking up your mug and Zoe’s and putting them in the sink. Douxie watched you, still leaning on the counter. You moved past him again, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest.

“You’re sure we can watch this kid?”

You bit your lip, looking back at the couch before turning back to Douxie, “When I was that age, all I wanted was a home. Somewhere safe where I didn’t have to worry about tomorrow. If we can give that to this kid then-” you cut yourself off and shrugged.

Douxie smiled, placing a hand on your cheek, “I love you so much.”

You leaned into his touch, “Besides, we have Archie, and he took care of you, so…”

You both laughed a little at that, pulling each other closer. His lips met yours in a soft kiss. You pulled apart from the kiss grinning, but something in Douxie’s eyes confused you.

“Babe? You good?”

“I’m better than good, darling. In fact, I-” he cut himself off, looking behind him and around the room before patting himself down, “Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“Babe? What’s up? What are you-?”

“I’ll be right back!” he said, giving you a quick kiss before running out the door.

“Uh… ok.”

You ran a hand through your hair before walking through your apartment, making sure everything was locked and warded.

“Why are you helping me?”

You spun around to see Robin, clutching Archie in one hand and keeping the other levelled at you. Purple magic surrounded both hands.

“Well, good morning to you too.”

Archie seemed displeased with your little joke, but he stayed silent for now.

“No jokes!” were they- were they crying? “Just tell me why!”

“Robin, I-”

“I was supposed to kill you! I was supposed to find you and kill you but-” their voice broke, “But you aren’t-” oop, crying child! Crying child in your living room!

“Woah, hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong kiddo?” you approached Robin slowly.

“Why-” sob “Why are you like this?”

“I ask myself that question every day,” you knelt down to their level once again, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do! I have to, or they’ll-”

“They?”

“They… the titans. If I don’t kill Merlin’s successor then they’ll… they’ll kill me.”

A little smile crossed your face as you took Archie from Robin’s grasp. The kid was so worked up they didn’t even notice.

“I was in the same place once, almost a thousand years ago.”

“No. You aren’t old enough!”

You giggled a little at that, “Looks can be deceiving. Back in the day, I was a spy. I worked for some very bad guys. They sent me to get information from Merlin himself.”

“Wh-what did you do?”

“I did what they asked. I was scared and alone. But do you wanna know what Douxie did?”

“Douxie’s old too!?”

“Yes, Douxie’s old too.”

“What did he do?”

“Well, he fought with me at first, but in the long run, he saved my life. He wouldn’t let the bad guys hurt me, and now, we won’t let them hurt you.”

With a sob, Robin jumped at you, not with an attack but with a hug. You were a little surprised, but you rolled with it.

“Please don’t let them hurt me.”

“We won’t. I promise.” you let Robin hug you for as long as they needed, making frantic ‘be quiet’ signs at Douxie when he came through the door. He looked confused, but stayed quiet and snuck into the kitchen, waiting for you.

“Thank you.” the kid said, looking a little embarrassed as they pulled away.

“It’s no problem kiddo. Now, to bed with you. It’s late and you are a child.”

“And the floor is made of floor. Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight little bird.”

You made sure they were safely tucked in before motioning for Archie to follow you as you grabbed Douxie from the kitchen and silently dragged him into your bedroom.

“Ok, we’re adopting the kid.”

“I thought we agreed upon that already?”

“Yeah, well, I’m confirming it now. That’s our kid.”

“And you’re not going to tell him about-”

“Time and place, Arch, time and place.”

Douxie looked between you and his familiar, trying to figure out what he’d missed. You sighed, knowing that this wouldn’t be something you could keep from him.

“It isn’t my story to tell but the kid was sent here to kill us, but they couldn’t. Doux, I know that sounds bad, but Robin is eight. I was nineteen when I was sent to spy on you and Merlin, and you know that messed me up. We can’t let this kid-”

“I know,” he put his hands on your arms, trying to calm you, “(Y/N), I know. We won’t let this kid get hurt the way you were, I promise.”

You said nothing, but you hugged Douxie hard enough to make him stumble back a little. Archie shook his little cat head, but joined in on the hug, “We’ll keep them safe, (Y/N), that’s a promise.”

“Thanks, guys,” you pulled back, absolutely beaming, “I love you both, just a fun fact.” Archie gave your face a lil’ headbutt as cats are prone to do, but Douxie got that look again. You were about to say his name when he pulled you close to him, his lips grazing your ear as he slipped something into your hand.

“I love you, too. Marry me.”

There was a ring in the palm of your hand. Douxie left a kiss on your neck before pulling away to look at you.

“I-”

“Yes.”

“Wait, I had a speech prepared-”

“No speech needed, just,” you kissed him for a second before pulling back, “Marry me.”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second,” with that out of the way, you got back to kissing.

Archie realized what had taken place before him and did the cat/dragon equivalent to a face-palm, “Really, Douxie? The bathroom?”

I mean, fair point, the bathroom wasn't a traditionally romantic space, but love followed you and Douxie around wherever you went, so it didn’t really matter. You laughed anyway.

“Thanks, Arch.”

The familiar grinned as much as a cat could, “No problem. Congratulations, though. I mean that sincerely.”

“Thank you, Archie,” you gave the familiar’s head a lil’ scratch before kissing Douxie, your fiancé, again (and again, and again.)

#fluff #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #aaty #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux #douxtober #tooth rotting fluff

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xaphrin · 4 years

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This takes place right after the most recent chapter of Shadows, but serves literally no purpose except to make me happy, so that’s why it’s not a full chapter. I am not 100% in love with the end of this, but I wanted cute pillow talk, so here we are.

- - -

Raven only made it halfway down the hall before her hands were tied tight behind her back by a trap. The thin rope twisted around her wrists, and she tipped forward as Damian pressed her tight against the wall, knocking a framed print onto the floor with the movement. Her eyes widened and she went to protest against the destruction of his things, but Damian bit on her neck, and whatever words were on her tongue faded into a weak moan. She glanced over her shoulder to see Damian - no, Robin - glaring at her from behind his mask.

Oh, she did not think this through.

“Do you think you can escape me?”

Raven swallowed and shivered as he pressed against her back, twisting her arms tighter behind her. The gentlest pull of pain slipped through her body, mingling with her desire and the echoes of his, and it somehow turned her on even more. Dear gods, she wasn’t going to survive this game. She felt another rush of heat between her legs and took a soft, shaking breath, trying to focus on something that would keep her pinned to this moment. But all she could think about was how his muscles twitched under his warm, smooth skin, the way his fingers tightened on her wrists, and the very insistent press of his erection against her ass. Damian mixed pain with pleasure expertly, and she was so close to giving him anything he wanted.

“Explain yourself, villain.”

Damian’s voice was a low rumble against her ears, burning her with each syllable. He was playing the part like a trained actor, and Raven shivered as he pushed tighter against her, pinning her to the wall. She wanted to give in now, but this was supposed to be a game, and she was going to play too. Magic snapped at her fingertips and Damian took a half-step back, feeling it spark along his skin.

Raven took the small opening and pushed back against his chest, making him stumble backward. She turned to face him, her lips pulling up at the edges. Damian wore nothing but a smirk, his skin-tight boxer briefs, and his mask. Oh, gods. That should have been illegal. She almost dropped to her knees right there and begged him to fuck her, but that would have ruined the game. And as much as she wanted to get off, she wanted to indulge a little too. She surged forward, dropping her shoulder to try and knock him off of his feet, but he dodged her attack with ease. She cursed, and Raven tried to wiggle her fingers out of the restraints, but Damian was damned good at tying her up.

“You aren’t going to escape.” As if to taunt her, he leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching her with that infuriating smile. “I assure you. Until you confess to your crimes, I will keep you tied up.” He took a step forward and practically towered over her, his mouth a dangerous slash against his too-full lips. “So… are you going to confess?”

“I’ve committed no crimes.” Raven still struggled against the restraints, hoping he didn’t hear the pounding of her heart. She lifted her eyes to his face and tried to look innocent, or as innocent as she could when she was thinking about all the ways she was going to ride his thick cock. “Why would I confess to something I didn’t do?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” He leaned forward and pushed her against the wall again, dropping his voice to a growl. “But I know for certain that you’re a criminal… and while I’m not necessarily one for corporal punishment-”

Just the thought of him bending her over his knee and spanking her, nearly made her come right there. But, maybe that was a question for another day… or maybe not. Heat drenched Raven, and she leaned back, gasping for breath. He had to have felt her emotions, right? He had to know what he was doing to her. Her clit ached painfully, and she was desperate to have him touch her anywhere right now.

“-but I won’t know the truth until you confess. So…” He leaned forward, running his tongue over his lower lip. “...should I torture a confession out of you?”

Raven swallowed a whimper before it escaped. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Mm.” It was just a hum, but it held the weight of his need and hers. Damian’s eyes slid over her form, as if inspecting her under his cool, steely gaze. “You’re hiding something. I know it.”

Without warning, his fingers hooked in the collar of her shirt (well, his technically), and pulled it sharp enough to tear the fabric in half. Oh no. That was… that was far too much. Raven barely bit back another curse as he admired the sight of her - ripped shirt and black lace panties. His lips twitched, and that was the only indication that he was just as far gone as she was.

“What are you hiding, Raven?” His fingers slid up her stomach, resting just under her breast. “I suppose I’ll have to do a full inspection.”

He cupped her breast, running his hands around the sides of her, down to her hips, and back up again. His thumb feathered over her nipples, and Raven felt an orgasm start to build just under her navel. She had never come like this before, but if anyone was going to break her, it was Damian. Electricity zipped down her spine, pooling between her legs, and her mind went white as she gasped. Just one more touch and she’d find that delicious bliss her body was chasing. A soft moan escaped her throat before she could stop it, and Damian let his hands fall to his sides.

“Well, you don’t seem to have any weapons on you. But, just to be sure…” His fingers hooked in her panties and he yanked them down her legs. Raven nearly screamed as his fingers parted her. Yes. Her eyes slid closed and she felt the cool air of the apartment drench her, as he spread her wide open, but… he didn’t enter her or touch her clit. All he was doing was… was inspecting her, and it was unerringly frustrating.

“Hm.” His hands fell to his sides and he looked up from beneath his mask. “Clean.”

Raven cursed and her magic slipped out of her fingertips, zapping along his skin before she could stop it. Damian stepped back and hissed with pain. She stepped forward, her eyes wide, the mood nearly broken. “Dami-”

His eyes darkened even more behind the mask, and Raven suddenly wondered if he was even in pain or not. Or… if he liked the pain.

Damian didn’t give her a chance to think about it, as he maneuvered her into his personal gym at the end of the hall. The heat and smell of sweat from his previous workout made everything worse, and all she could think about was his toned body, dripping sweat and- Raven groaned as she felt him release the rope around her wrists with a single pull, letting it dangle from his fingertips as a warning. His eyes drifted over her and he stripped the remains of his shirt from her form, letting it fall to the mats beneath their feet.

“Arms out.”

She lifted her hands to him, and he wrapped her back up, this time tying her wrists in front of her. He hooked his fingers in the knot, testing its strength, and led her to the wall. His eyes searched her for just a moment, and Raven realized he was giving her an opportunity to say no. But… she was already so far gone, and she trusted him. Raven just stayed quiet, defiantly looking into his eyes. Damian smirked before he turned her to face the wall and lifted her arms above her head, hooking the rope to an empty weapons rack. Raven was forced up on her tip-toes and he pushed her tight into the wall with a low growl.

“I can see that you’re going to require advanced interrogation techniques.” His fingers slid down her spine dipping into the dimples on her back before cupping her ass. “Stay here and think about what you wish to confess.”

Raven turned and watched as he stepped back, his smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. He stood there and admired her for a brief moment before turning and walking out the door. She gasped and pressed her forehead against the wall, feeling her own wetness spill down the inside of her thighs. Fuck. She had always known that there was a dark streak in him, she just didn’t realize how dark. Raven clenched her thighs together, hoping it would offer some relief, but it didn’t. Nothing was going to offer her relief unless it was by Damian’s hands, and he knew that. She whimpered and pulled at her restraints.

“I’ll confess!”

Silence.

Raven cried out again. “I’ll confess, Robin.”

Damian entered the room again, a long, thin wooden rod in his hand. He smirked and stepped closer to her, his steps silent on the padded floor. “What crimes will you confess to?”

“I…” She searched for a crime that she had committed, but her mind came up blank. “I’m… guilty of a crime of passion.”

“Aren’t we all?” He dragged the rod up the backside of her thighs, tapping gently on the curve of her ass. There was the soft sting as it snapped against her skin, and Raven felt the pain burn right to her clit again. Her hips gave a halfhearted thrust against the wall, knowing that it wasn’t going to offer relief but needing something to satiate her. “I know there’s something else you should confess to… just think a bit harder, criminal.”

Raven fell silent as she tried to think of anything other than the burning between her legs.

Snap!

She cried out as the cane in his hand struck the back of her upper thighs. Pain burned for just a moment before it flooded her whole body with a twisted kind of pleasure, and her body started to tremble. Her eyes closed and she swallowed another breath, pressing her head against the wall. “I fell in love with someone I shouldn’t have.”

Snap!

Oh gods, she was going to come hard.

“That’s not a crime.” He drew back the cane and snapped it against the full curve of her ass, the sting easing into a sharp, almost earth-shattering pleasure. With a soft hum, Damian snapped the cane against her ass a few more times, each blow more concentrated than the last. He was testing her, trying to see where her limits were and how to make her shatter. “Love isn’t something we can control.”

“I fell for you, Robin. It may not be a crime, but it feels like one.” Her voice was weak, and she felt like she was flying. Pain and pleasure was a dangerous cocktail inside her, pulling her apart and putting her back together into someone she didn’t quite recognize. Her demon was clawing inside her chest, begging for release, and yet wanting to be tortured some more. She wanted to come, and yet she wanted to be denied a little longer. She wanted his soft touches, and yet she wanted to be caned until her ass was red and she wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week. Raven moaned as he struck her a few more times, her skin hot and her body ready.

Her moan was wanton, and she shifted uneasily on her tiptoes. “Maybe this isn’t a crime, but it is my confession.”

“Mm…”

She heard him drop the cane, and his fingers smoothed over her skin, easing the sting. Raven shuddered, her body so tight she might actually break apart if he breathed on her. She turned her head and opened her eyes slowly, realizing there was a mirror on the far wall. In it, she could see Damian standing behind her, his erection nearly bursting out of his tight underwear as his fingers smoothed over her very red ass. It was blatantly erotic, and Raven couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.

He lifted his masked eyes and caught her stare in the reflection. “No crimes have been committed.” He leaned forward and captured her earlobe between his teeth, tugging. “But you should be wary of falling for Robin. He doesn’t take prisoners.” One hand slipped up her arm, resting on the knot of rope around her wrists, and the other hand slid between her thighs, spitting her again. Damian groaned against her ear. “You’re so wet, my love. Did you want to come?”

His finger barely brushed against her swollen clit, and Raven nearly cried out. She nodded fiercely, not trusting her voice right now.

“Tell me…” He traced around her with his fingers, massaging her, but not giving her the release she craved. His tongue traced her ear, and he groaned as he pushed his clothed erection against her still-stinging ass. “Tell me how much you want to come.”

“I need it. Please… Robin… let me come.” Her voice was wavering, tears were leaking out of the corners of her eyes, and she needed this. She would be lost if he didn’t let her come. “I’m begging you.”

“Mm…”

Damian finally pressed his fingers to her clit, and Raven threw her head back and screamed. It felt like she had been on fire for eons and he poured a bucket of ice water on her. She let herself drown in the sensation, being pulled so deep into a place of pleasure, she wasn’t sure if she would ever find her way out again. She felt his fingers work her, curl around her clit, thrust in and out of her, tease her, and milk every last drop from her until she was a trembling, dripping mess.

“Again, my love.” Damian reached up and pulled the rope loose, her hands falling to her sides. Without bothering to undress, he pulled his cock free of his underwear and yanked her to the floor pinning her under him. The cool vinyl of the mat stung her burning skin, but it still felt so damned good, that Raven felt another orgasm build within seconds. She watched as Damian hooked her legs in his arms, spreading her wide.

“I have my own confession.” He crawled over her, his thick cock pressing insistently against her. “I am in love with you too.” With one push, he was seated inside her, and Raven groaned, her fingers digging into his short locks. “I had thought about you for years… but it feels like centuries.” He began to thrust hard, and the mats were unforgiving beneath her back. She felt every rough push, every ridge, every breath, to the point where she thought she might go insane. Damian leaned over her, his lips pulling back in a snarl. “I cannot imagine my world without you.”

“Damian…” Raven didn’t care that either of them had broken character. All she wanted was to come again - with him this time. Her plea came out in a weak sound, and she threw her head back, arching into him.

“Tease your nipple.” He leaned over her and nipped at her throat, letting go of a low groan as she tightened around him. Damian angled his hips and rubbed against a spot that had Raven seeing stars. Her hand was already cupping her breast, her fingers twisting her nipple hard as her other hand worked to find purchase somewhere. She felt like she needed to be grounded, before she flew off into the sky.

“Your clit. Touch it.” Damian groaned as her muscles tensed around his cock, and she rocked her hips up into his. She rubbed herself, stealing a glance of his wild, desperate expression. He licked his lips and growled. “That’s right, baby. Just like that.” He gasped and thrust harder into her, relentless as he sought both their pleasure. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now. Someday, I’m going to spread you out and make you masturbate for me. And when you come, I’m going to ask you to do it again.” Thrust. “And again.” Thrust. “And again. Until you’re a mess on my sheets… and then I’m going to devour every drop of you.”

Whatever weak, pathetic response was on Raven’s tongue died, and her world was suddenly drowning in him again. Her back arched off the mats and she screamed, feeling his hips pound harder into her as her fingers teased her clit. It was too much - far too much. Raven was utterly lost as she felt her whole body give into him. She was shaking, trembling, dissolving into nothing in his arms. Her hands were everywhere on herself, and he murmured his praises as his own orgasm hit him without warning. He growled and leaned forward, sinking his teeth into her shoulder with a curse and a groan.

Raven nearly blacked out from the intensity of it all.

Damian swore in every language he knew as he fell over her, catching his weight on his forearms. The world was fuzzy at the edges of their vision, but the world didn’t matter when they both felt like… like this. Aftershocks sparked along her, and Raven pushed up into his hips, getting one last jolt before feeling his cock soften. Fuck. How in the world did this feel so damned good. He groaned and twitched inside her, muttering something against her throat before slipping from her body and rolling to the side.

She couldn’t even bother to open her eyes to look at him, and Raven just lay there, gasping for breath. They should just… lay there. At least until they were able to find their minds again. The world fell into silence, and she realized she was probably making a mess of his floor.

Raven moved to stand up, suddenly embarrassed. “I should-”

“No.” Damian gathered her in his arms and picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all and he wasn’t still coming down from a delicious high. He looked down into her face, his expression tender. “Come here. I need to take care of you.”

Huh? Raven felt him carry her through his apartment before setting her down on the bed, cushioning her with soft blankets and pillows. He disappeared for a moment before returning with a bottle of expensive lotion that smelled of chamomile and lavender. Damian watched her for just a moment before his expression softened. He kissed along her shoulders and rolled her onto her stomach, exposing her bright red backside.

“This might sting a little, but I need to make sure you’re tended to.” With that he rubbed the lotion into her tender skin, still burning from the strikes with the cane. Raven winced, but his touch was so soft and gentle, that whatever pain she still had dissolved. Damian kissed down her spine.

“Where… where did you learn to do that?”

“Do what?” He kissed her neck, his hand massaging the lotion into her thighs.

“The… ah…”

“Caning?” She felt his embarrassment flood her chest, and he gave a soft, apologetic cough. “I… might have done some research while you were gone?”

Raven laughed into the pillow.

Damian’s hands stilled on her other thigh, and he picked up his head to look at her. “Did you not enjoy it?”

Grateful to hide her embarrassment in the pillow, Raven shook her head and closed her eyes. “No… I… um… I really liked it.”

She felt his smile, and he kissed her shoulders again. “Well, we’ll have to find reasons to kick Jon out of the house… but I’m more than happy to offer a repeat performance.”

Raven sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll survive.”

“You will.” He nipped at her neck and grabbed a handful of her ass, playful. “And you’ll beg me for more.”

“Will I?” Raven looked over her shoulder at him, lifting an eyebrow.

“You will.” He closed the lotion and placed it on the nightstand. Damian pulled her into the warmth of his chest and pulled the covers around them. He kissed her forehead, letting silence rest over them. “When you’re ready, just ask me if you’d like to try something else.”

Raven yawned and tucked her head under his chin, her eyes growing heavy. “Don’t tempt me. If I make you a list we’ll never leave the apartment again.”

“Well…” He smirked above her. “Then let’s start with one thing.”

“I want to watch you masturbate.” She was surprised that it came out so quickly, but… it was something she had fantasized about before. When she had walked in on him in the shower after their first time together, she realized she might have had a few fantasies she didn’t realize. “In the shower. I want you to masturbate in the shower, and I want to watch.”

He twitched beneath her, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and Raven suddenly had a thought. She picked her head up and looked into his eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mm?” He reached over and played with her hair, twisting it around his fingers.

“When we were back at the Academy, and we had that sparring session… did you… afterwards?” She watched as color filled his face, giving her his answer without saying anything at all.

Damian sighed in defeat, staring up at the ceiling. “You made me feel a lot of things all the time, Raven. And I didn’t always know how to handle them. I had thought that I didn’t need to feel things like… desire or sex. But, you proved me wrong, and I didn’t know how to appropriately deal with my emotions.”

“Wait… wait.” Raven sat up and smirked at him, as if she had made some grand discovery. “You’re making it sound like you masturbated often. You. Straight-laced, cold, calculating Damian Wayne giving into his base desires. Hm. Interesting.”

He gave her a flat stare. “You made me tear your tights off of you, Raven. What do you think that does to an eighteen year-old boy? Of course I masturbated to you all the time. The amount of tissues I went through in a week was embarrassing.”

“And while we were separated?”

Damian ran a hand over his face and groaned, avoiding her stare. “You’re very interested in me masturbating, aren’t you?”

She pushed at her hair and glanced away. “I did.”

He let his hand fall and looked up into her face. “To me?”

“To Miguel actually.”

A spark of anger filled his face before he realized she was teasing him.

“Of course to you.” She fell back onto the pillows and tucked herself against his side, running her fingertips over the gnarled scar in his chest. She felt almost giddy, oddly playful despite everything that was going on around them. The world might be burning, but in this moment there was nothing but joy. “You ripped my tights off me. You don’t know what that does to an eighteen year-old girl.”

He snorted.

“Although…”

Damian looked over at her, waiting.

Raven chewed on her lower lip, avoiding his stare as she continued to trace his scar. “...I might have thought about you spanking me more than once.”

He hummed, as if turning over a thought in his head. “So… voyeurism and spanking is on the list. Good to know.”

She flushed and buried her face in his chest, letting the silence fall over them. “This is new.”

Damian nodded, and his breath stuttered. “This is new.” He curled his fingers into her hair. “But, you know every secret I have ever kept, and I trust you with them. And I trust you with my heart and my body and my pleasure, Raven. So… even though this is new, I know we can work through it together.”

Raven thought she might melt, and she knew that if she looked up into his face, she would be a part of him forever. Or, maybe it was too late, and she already was.

#damirae #demonbirds #look it's 4k of adult nonsense #so you better be prepared #thanks for putting up with me #sorry it's a bit of a hot mess #sunday sinday

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fresh-outta-jams · 4 years

Text

Tale as Old as Time - Part 1

Namjoon x Reader Author: Admin Mo Summary: At the hands of an evil enchantress, Prince Namjoon has been struck with a beastly curse. Love is the only way to break the spell, but who could ever learn to love a beast? Note: Wow my brain really said “All you can think about now is Namjoon in Beauty and the Beast and you MUST WRITE IT NOW.” Warnings: None? Word Count: 1.7k

Prologue - 1

Prince Namjoon spent weeks in his wing of the castle, lamenting Rosaline's curse. He avoided the mirrors, spoons, and standing water. He couldn’t stand to look at himself or the others. Guilt ate at him. It was his fault Rosaline had come in the first place. It was his fault he’d doomed himself and his friends to a fate so grim with no hope of ever returning to normal. Not without dooming his kingdom, at least.

Jungkook brought Namjoon meals, as he was one of the few who didn’t have mobility issues due to his new...condition. Though the prince barely wanted to eat, it was important to him that his friend was taken care of, especially in his new form.

“How can you stand to look at me?” Namjoon had asked on one of the first nights of his self-inflicted exile. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re no monster, your highness. You’re my friend. This curse isn’t your fault. None of the others hold any anger against you.”

“They should. They should all hate me. It’s my-”

“It’s not your fault.” Jungkook repeated. “It could have been any of us. It’s not your fault the witch wanted you.”

Namjoon sighed. “I suppose not…”

“Will you please come see the others? They all miss you.”

“Why don’t they come here?”

“You see, it’s...not that simple.” Jungkook replied. “Many of the others...can’t walk, your highness.”

Namjoon was struck silent. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. It was even worse than he feared. “I’ll come see them. Lead the way.”

The first stop on the tour of the cursed castle was one of the bedrooms down the hall. Jungkook pushed open the doors and Namjoon followed him inside. It was a large bedroom, often used for guests. He knew, however, that Taehyung had been in the room, organizing the clothes in the wardrobe.

“Taehyung?” Namjoon asked. He stared at the wardrobe, waiting for it to respond to him somehow, but instead, it was the full length mirror beside it that came to life, Taehyung’s form trapped within the glass, as though it was a painting of his friend.

“Namjoon! You finally came.” Taehyung’s face lit up, but once he finally got a good look at their prince, his eyes widened. “She...what did she do to you?”

“It’s not worse than what she did to you.” Namjoon’s eyes watered, his voice so very deep and growly. “I’m so sorry, Taehyung.”

“It’s not your fault.” Taehyung shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“You’re trapped in a mirror.”

“It’ll be okay.” Taehyung wasn’t sure if his words were true, but he also didn’t know how to make the prince feel better. He put his hand against the glass, pressing against the invisible boundary trapping him inside. Namjoon raised his giant paw and matched it to Taehyung’s hand.

“I’m going to get you out of there.” Namjoon decided. Although, he wasn’t quite sure how he’d be able to accomplish that.

Next, Jungkook led Namjoon down to the smaller ballroom, the one that had been vacant during the party. He heard piano music coming from the small room, but once they got inside it, he noticed there was no one sitting at the piano bench. No one was in the room. Or so he though. He remembered that Yoongi had been absent from the party because he’d been practicing.

Suddenly, the music stopped. The keys stopped pressing themselves and the piano tilted slightly towards them.

“Your highness…” Yoongi’s voice emitted from the top of the grand piano, the strings reverberating slightly as he said it.

“Yoongi.”

“How are you...holding up?”

“Not well.” Namjoon sighed. “How are you?”

“It’s not all bad. I always did want more time to practice.” Yoongi chuckled darkly. “I was practicing in here during the party, and the next thing I knew…”

“That must have been terrifying.”

“It was at first. It...still is, sometimes when I wake up.”

Jungkook led Namjoon onwards to the kitchen, where he half expected to find the castle’s cook, Jin, making something. And he was, technically. Except there was a pot on the stove of the oven, which was stirring itself.

“Namjoon?” The oven asked.

“Jin?” Namjoon asked in return.

“It’s me.” The oven replied. “Just making dinner, your highness. It’ll be done soon.”

“I’m in no hurry.” Namjoon shook his head. Each room he walked into, he just felt worse. He’d seen four of the six staff members, all that were left were Hoseok and Jimin.

Jungkook led Namjoon out of the kitchen and into the den, where there was a candelabra and a teacup sitting on the table. At the sight of him, the candelabra lit up, hopping closer to the edge.

“You’re here! You’ve finally come out of hiding!”

“Hoseok?”

“In the flesh! Er, wax…”

And so the teacup must have been Jimin, Namjoon deduced. He sat on the couch, facing them, and picked up the cup gently. There was indeed a face painted into the cup’s surface where there hadn’t been one previously. When the golden painted eyes opened, the cup screamed, quieting down quickly.

“Jimin?”

“You scared me, your highness, I’m so sorry.” Jimin replied. A pink blush spreaded across his painted cheeks. “I didn’t mean to scream. I’m...I’m not scared of you.”

“It’s okay if you are.” Namjoon said, sullen. “I’m aware my new form is quite...frightening.”

“It doesn’t matter what you look like, you’re still the same Namjoon I grew up with.” Hoseok said, resting one of his candle-bearing hands carefully on Namjoon’s. “We know you’re not a monster.”

“I doubt anyone outside the castle would think that, though.” Namjoon sighed and carefully set Jimin back on the table. “None of you deserve this fate. Maybe I should just-”

“Go to Rosaline? Don’t.” Jungkook shook his head. “If she did this to us, what do you think she’d do if she was in charge of the kingdom? Besides, you don’t love her.”

“I don’t.” Namjoon agreed. He stared at his giant fur-covered paws, still in disbelief that they belonged to him. “But like this, I doubt anyone will love me either.”

***

Five Years Later

***

From birth, you had always been a little...different. And if there was anything your village hated, it was different.

“Witch.” An old man muttered under his breath as you passed.

You only sighed and pulled your cape further around yourself. You were used to the treatment, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Your boots crunched the autumn leaves beneath your feet as you walked to the baker’s cart to pick up some bread for the week.

“The usual, (Y/N)?” The baker asked, a genuine smile on his wrinkled face.

“Yes, please.” You nodded.

He picked up the parcel he had waiting on the counter and handed it to you. You set the large paper bag in your basket. You handed a small bag of coins to the baker and he smiled. “I’ll see you next week, then.”

“Of course!” You walked out the door and wandered further through the market. You bought some jam from one merchant, some thread for another, and you stopped, staring at the most gorgeous yellow fabric you’d ever seen. What a beautiful gown that’d make. Unfortunately, you knew you definitely wouldn’t be able to afford it. After all, your craft as a seamstress only made so much money. Barely enough to keep you fed, let alone any other expenses. No, a yellow gown would have to wait.

So, on you walked through the village until you finally arrived at your little house. Since your parents had passed a few years before, you had the place to yourself. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. You walked inside and set your basket on the table before walking back out to tend to the three chickens you kept. You collected their eggs and then walked back into the house.

For a moment, you just sat in silence, enjoying the moment of peace before getting back to work on your latest piece, a long blue gown. You took orders from neighboring villages as well as your own, creating unique dresses for the women in town. Every once in a while, you’d receive a generous tip for your labor, but most of the time, you only made enough to afford your food for the week.

You sewed seam after seam, dressing your bodice slowly until finally, you had a finished dress. You’d have to deliver it to your customer in the next few days to collect your money.

You exhaled a long sigh, leaning back and finally letting your muscles rest. You’d need to save energy for tonight. There was going to be a meteor shower, and you were determined to stay up and watch it until its completion. Much to the village’s dismay, you took after your mother. You’d inherited her gift, just a touch of magic that seemed to be more powerful under the stars.

However, due to powerful enchantresses like Rosaline, who tortured the people of the outskirts of the kingdom and bent them to her will, magic users were feared, sometimes even persecuted. You were lucky the people of your village hadn’t burned you at the stake. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if they tried at some point.

It was still nice out and the sun was beginning to set, so you walked outside your house to take a little stroll in the twilight. It was then that you spotted the baker, on his way home from work.

“Hello again, (Y/N). What are you doing out so late?”

“I’m headed to the field outside of town to watch the stars.”

“A beautiful night for that.” He nodded, thinking for a long moment before he added. “I heard beyond the forest, there’s an abandoned castle. Rumor has it, there’s an observatory in its tower.”

“You don’t say…” You murmured, looking out towards the woods. Perhaps you’d have to wander out there and find out for yourself. “Thank you for the tip.”

Tagged: @thetofuartist

#namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #rm #rm x reader #rm imagine #bts #bts imagine #au #disney au #beauty and the beast au #beauty and the beast

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tanjamikaelson · 3 years

Text

LOVE FOR ETERNITY - PART 90

MASTERLIST

PART 90: | THINGS WE DO TO SURVIVE |

Rebekah was in her and Kol’s current apartment, she was sitting in the living room and drinking her wine when she heard yelling from the up stairs. Then she saw a girl walking down the stairs cursing Kol. Rebekah narrowed her eyes at her and saw that Kol was coming down right after her.

- “Wait up, darling.” Kol tells her, but when she didn’t stop he vamp speeded in front of her.

- “Let me go, I'm not going to help you.” A girl said.

- “Why not?” Kol asked.

- “I’m not helping a guy who cheats on his girlfriend in order to find her. Who in their right mind does that?” A girl questioned.

- “She has a point, Kol.” Rebekah remarks.

- “Shut up, Bex.” Kol tells her.

- “Or maybe I should find her and tell her with whom she is in a relationship with..” A girl told him.

- “She would probably just kill you.” Kol told her honestly.

- A girl scoffs, “Then I just added one more reason not to help you to my list.” then she pushes Kol out of her way and heads towards the door, but just as she was about to open them Kol snapped her neck.

- “Why did you do that?” Rebekah asked.

- “Well you heard her she doesn’t want to help.” Kol replies.

- “That was the fifth witch you killed in the past week. Are you going to kill everyone who doesn’t want to help you?” Rebekah asked.

- “Yes, I will. Do you have a problem with that?” Kol asked.

- “If other witches find out what you do to those who don’t want to help you they will hate you..” Rebekah began saying.

- “Or they will fear me and they will be willing to help.” Kol corrected her, “And what did you do in the past two days? Sat there and did nothing.”

- “Oh please Kol, I offered you help and you told me to stay away.” Rebekah told him, “What do you want from me?”

- “Exactly that, to stay away and not bother me, but you’re still here.” Kol exclaimed, “You know what? I’ll stay away from you.” Then he ran off and Rebekah hasn't seen him since then.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

- “Of course you choose the biggest house in the city.” Kai remarks when he finds Natali.

- “I actually lived in this house while Kol and I were in Mystic Falls, it was the house of his brother Klaus.” Natali tells him.

- “Soo, do you have any idea how to get out of the prison world?” Kai asked while looking around.

- “I don’t have an idea. You’re the one who was once trapped in the prison world, how did you escape?” Natali questioned.

- “Well, twice actually.” Kai corrected her, “I had the ascendant, a celestial event and Bennett blood.”

- “There is a full moon every night here. Is that enough?” Natali asked.

- “That’s not enough to boost the power and we don’t have Bennett blood.” Kai tells her.

- “I will find a way to get us out of here without Bennett blood, and as for boosting the power I’m sure we can find something else.” Natali told him.

- “What else?” Kai asked.

- “We will need to go to New Orleans, I have things that we need there.” Natali tells him.

When they arrived in New Orleans they went to Fangtasia where Natali still had things that they needed.

- “What is this, a strip club?” Kai asked, seeing a stage with a pole for dancing.

- “Sort of.” Natali tells him, “I like to dance there.” she added pointing at the stage.

- “So you are a vampire stripper.” Kai remarks.

- “I’m not a stripper. It’s called pole dance.” Natali informed him, “But vampires come here and they can compel humans to do whatever they want for them.

- “I wouldn’t mind either of those.” Kai tells her and smirks.

- Natali smirks and rolls her eyes, “Anyway, let’s get back to why we came here. Follow me.” She then continued to walk towards the stairs and Kai followed her down to her secret room.

She cut her wrist open and poured blood on the door saying a spell to open them.

- “So what exactly do we need from here?” Kai asked.

- “Dark objects.” Natali tells him and points at the shelf's where they were placed, “Everything you see here is made thanks to dark magic.”

- Kai took the cuffs that were hanging on the wall, “You think this will help? I know only one good way to use this for.”

- Natali rolls her eyes, “Are you really going to think about that right now?”

- Kai shrugs, “Well what else? There is not enough dark magic for both of us.”

- “We didn’t even try.” Natali tells him.

- “I know it won’t work, we wasted our time.” Kai says.

- “If you are so smart you wouldn’t end up locked here for the third time.” Natali told him.

- “And what about you? You let Bonnie outsmart you.” Kai shot back, “You basically locked yourself here.”

- Natali sighted and crossed her arms, “So do you have any better plan?”

- “I say we don’t waste dark magic right now, we need to gather more information on how we can escape.” Kai tells her, “Do you have any books here?”

- “I have a lot of ancient books, but they are all in my secret library in Saint Tropez.” Natali told him.

- “Well, that’s just great. How are we gonna get to Saint Tropez?” Kai asked.

- “Well lucky for you, you are trapped here with a girl who knows how to fly a helicopter.” Natali informed him.

- Kai smiles, “Yeah, lucky me.”

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

- “So you said that your coven trapped you here the first time because you were different?” Natali questioned.

- “Well technically they trapped me here because I killed my siblings and because I was different.” Kai told her.

- “Siblings? How many?” Natali asked.

- “Four and failed to kill my twin sister and the other two. ” Kai told her, “But I killed them when I escaped the prison world.

- “Well we have more things in common.” Natali says.

- “Did you finish off your sister?” Kai asked.

- Natali nods, “I did. Too bad I can’t torture her in hell right now.”

- “What do you think happened to hell now when you’re here?” Kai questioned.

- “I have no idea. I guess we’ll see when we get back.” Natali told him, “Anyway, did you say you had a twin sister?”

- “Yes, why?” Kai asked.

- “So your coven was actually a gemini coven, huh?” Natali said.

- “Oh, you’ve heard of it?” Kai asked.

- “Well, of course I did, that coven exists because of me.” Natali tells him.

- “Really? How so?” Kai asked.

[SAINT TROPEZ, FRANCE: 1005.]

It’s been a week since Natali killed a woman she was staying with and people began to notice that she’s nowhere to be seen. One day Natali heard knocking at the front door and she heard a woman's voice calling out for someone to open the door. Natali walked towards the door and opened them.

- “Where is she?” A woman asked, not taking her eyes off of Natali.

- “Who?” Natali replied.

- “Helen, a woman you were staying with.” Woman told her.

- “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her in a week.” Natali tells her.

- A woman frowns for a moment, “And that didn’t concern you?”

- “It did. I was looking for her, but I couldn’t find her.” Natali replies.

- “Then you should've come to me.” A woman told her.

- “And if I may know, who are you?” Natali asked.

- “I’m Juliette.” A woman replied, “People were concerned that they haven’t seen Helen in days, and they told me that there’s some new girl living with her.”

- When Natali heard her name, she realized that she was a sister of her mother, who was now a coven leader, so she introduced herself, “Oh, my name is Natali.”

- “I’m glad we met, can I come in?” Juliette asked.

Then Natali let her inside of the house and they sat together in the living room.

- “So, how do you know Helen?” Juliette asked.

- “I was just passing through here when I met her, she told me that I can stay with her for a few days.” Natali said.

- “But you've been here for a month, right?” Juliette asked.

- “Yeah, I think it’s already been a month.” Natali replied.

- “And you’re not scared to stay here alone? Close to the woods?” Juliette asked.

- “Why would I be scared?” Natali asked back.

- “I’ve heard that there’s some strange things happening around here. It’s not just Helen that is missing, a few other of my people are missing too. It started happening just after Helen disappeared.” Juliette informed her.

- That was when Natali knew she wasn’t careful enough, “I didn’t know that. Maybe I should move somewhere else.” she says.

- “Maybe if you move my coven will be a safe place again.” Juliette replied.

- “A coven? What’s that supposed to mean?” Natali questioned.

- “Let’s not pretend that you don’t know what coven is and I won’t pretend that I don’t know exactly who you are.” Juliette told her.

- “And who am I?” Natali asked.

- “Don’t you think I wouldn’t recognize my sister's daughter, you look so much like her.” Juliette tells her, “And that name Natali, that was the name she was planning on giving you.”

- Natali smiles, “You got me.”

- “I had a feeling that she lied when she told me that you died at birth.” Juliette told her.

- “I mean I would die anyway, isn’t that right?” Natali questioned.

- “That’s right. Your kind is not welcomed here.” Juliette replied.

- Natali laughs, “My kind? I’m not so different than you.”

- “If you’re not different you wouldn't kill people. The same thing repeats itself.” Juliette says.

- “What do you mean by that?” Natali asked.

- “When I was young there was one boy who was born just like you, everyone treated him like he was human, but when he got older he realized that he could siphon powers from other witches and he didn’t stop until they were dead and he had all of their power in himself. And that was the day when this coven swore to kill anyone who wasn't born with their powers.” Juliette tells her, “That's exactly what you’re doing. That’s why Helen and others are dead.”

- “Well, you see, you’re not quite right.” Natali tells her, “I draw my powers for something else.”

Juliette could then see Natali’s eyes turning dark red, veins appeared under her eyes and a pair of big, sharp fangs aiming at her bare neck . Her blue eyes were staring at the beast in front of her in terror. She never saw anything like that.

- “What kind of demonic creature are you?” Juliette asked.

- “The kind you’ll regret messing with.” Natali tells her and takes a step closer.

Juliette reacted quickly and used her powers to push Natali and she hit a wall, but for her it was like nothing even happened. She was getting stronger by the day. She was getting more powerful when she fed on humans everyday.

Juliette tried to take advantage of the moment and escape but Natali used her powers to closer the door shut.

- “See, I don’t need to siphon powers from you.” Natali tells her, “Doesn’t that make me just like you?”

- Juliette turns towards Natali, “No, you are a monster.”

- “Aren’t we all?” Natali says, “You’re a monster too, you kill innocent children just because you’re afraid of them and because we are different.” then she flashed just in front of her and grabbed her neck saying, “Now you’ll get what you deserve.”

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

- “And that was how I killed my mother's sister and after that I took over the coven and threw out anyone who didn’t want to follow my rules.” Natali said to Kai, “The gemini coven was created at some point.”

- “Well we are definitely the same.” Kai stated.

- “We do what we need to survive.” Natali tells him and Kai couldn’t agree more.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

MASTERLIST

Tags: @mikaelsonsmagic @p3nny4urth0ught5 @cute-freak27 @ias-born @superhalsteads @characterobsessed @hinata7346 @luiza-4-ever @huntress1428 @infiniteoblivion21 @watersenthusiast

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ms-rampage · 3 years

Text

Eden’s Gate: The Mother Chapter 5 - The 4 Steps

Warnings: Mandy being an actual mother towards John, Angst.

Word count: 2.5k

Where it all began.

Summary: Mandy goes through the 4 steps of joining the Cult to claim the name, and role as The Mother.

Guest OCs:

Guest Characters: Archangel Raphael (Supernatural), God/Chuck [mentioned].

Note: This takes place in 2012.

**********************************************

The next morning Mandy wakes up, expecting to see Joseph laying next to her.

Waking up in an empty bed, she looks over at the clock on the nightstand, 6:57am.

She groans, getting out of bed, going to the bathroom in her and Joseph’s shared house.

Doing her business, washing her hands, she hears footsteps outside the bathroom coming from their room.

“Joseph?” she calls out, waiting for a response.

She opens the bathroom door, poking her out, looking around. No one there.

She looks around the small house.

Still no one there, Joseph must’ve left early for his sermon.

It’s weird because you figured he would have woken her up.

Since she’s a part of their family now, and she plays an important role in the Project.

Not thinking anything about it, she goes to the kitchen, and makes some coffee.

As she’s filling the kettle with water, a shuffling sound comes from the bedroom.

“Hello?!?” she calls out again, “Joseph?”.

Putting the kettle down on the burner. Investigating the suspicious movements.

She goes over to her and Joseph’s room, the door magically closed.

Knowing well she had left it open. She slowly opens the door, and finds it empty.

No one there. She checks the closet, no one in there.

She sees that the window had been open a bit, she goes to shut it, and locks it.

“I see he’s treating you well” a familiar voice says from behind her.

Mandy nearly jumps out of her skin, and nearly throws a copy of The Book of Joseph at the Archangel, stopping herself.

She lets out an annoyed huff, “Raph?!?! What are you doing here?!?”.

He looks around the room, “Joseph. I see he’s treating you well”.

Still annoyed that this Archangel just showed up unexpectedly like the majority of angels, and demons do.

“Yeah? So what?” she asks, annoyance in her voice.

“I just came by to see how you’re doing” he says.

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking” she says, sarcastically.

She leaves the room, and goes back to the kitchen.

“I can see why God chose you to gain Joseph’s trust” he says, “You have that fiery, intense attitude that every man wants in a woman”.

Mandy scoffs, “Is that really why Chuck chose me?!?”.

“He has many reasons. That one is a very very minor one” he replies, taking a seat.

“So why are you really here?!?” she asks, while pouring coffee into her mug.

“Mainly to check up on you. Chuck wanted to make sure you weren’t screwing up”.

She rolls her eyes, “You’re angels. Can’t you just hear my thoughts all the way up in cloud city?!”.

“Yeah. but physically seeing you is always better for us” he says, shrugging his left shoulder.

Confused, but she goes with it.

“Umm, okay?. Do you know where Joseph went?” she asks, before drinking her coffee.

“He’s at his brother's church. He wanted to bring you along, but he wanted you to sleep in” he answers.

“You spoke with him?!?” she asks, her eyes slightly widened.

He shakes his head, “No, Chuck doesn’t want us to communicate in any way with him or his siblings. Only I can communicate with you. Unless I have one of my brothers do it for me”.

“What happens if Joseph sees you?!” she asks, hesitantly. Eyebrows raised.

“I wipe his memory of me, and whoever else sees me”.

She tilts her head at the Archangel, “Really? Not killing them?!?”.

He shakes his head, “No I can’t kill them. I can’t kill you either, well I can actually but God said I’m not allowed to, and neither can the other angels”.

Mandy finishes off her coffee, “Well I think-” she gets interrupted by a sudden knock at the door.

“Mother Amanda?!” a female voice asks.

Mandy turns to the door, and immediately back to Raphael who is now gone.

“Great” she whispers in annoyance at the celestial being.

She opens the door, and is greeted by a female cultist.

“Yes?” she responds.

“Father Joseph wanted me to bring you this” she says, handing her a white dress.

“Thank you” she responds with a smile.

“He also wanted me to tell you about your baptism this afternoon” she says.

“Oh okay” she says,

“It’s gonna be at the Lamb of God Sacristy” she tells her, “Joseph wanted to cleanse you himself”.

Mandy nods, “Okay that’s fine with me. I look forward to it”.

The cultist leaves, Mandy shuts the door behind her.

Taking a look at the dress.

It’s a beautiful white full length dress with long lace sleeves.

Almost similar to the one she wore when she got married to Joel, 20 years earlier.

Giving her flashbacks to when she was actually happy, and her husband was still alive.

******************************

A few hours later, Mandy gets dressed for her baptism.

Putting on her white dress, barefooted.

A black SUV enters the compound. Pulling up in front of the church.

She leaves the house, and goes into the vehicle.

Sitting in the back along with a few other female cultists.

Driving down the road towards the Lamb of God church in Holland Valley.

Looking out the window of the vehicle, watching her life go down this somewhat dark path.

Arriving at the church, being helped out by a few cultists so her dress won’t expose her privates because it was very windy that day.

She was told to wear the dress without a bra, and panties on.

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable because of the cool breeze, and the water was very choppy.

Joseph waits for her by the water. Wearing an all white suit, similar to the suit he would often wear.

He wanted to cleanse her himself, God wanted him to do this.

Walking towards the water, he reaches out for her hands.

She takes his hands, he guides her into the water. Ankle deep so far.

He places a kiss on her forehead, everyone minus Jacob is there.

John who is helping Joseph with the ceremony, Faith who made several Bliss flower bouquets, and crowns for the ceremony. Also supply the bliss for the water.

Jacob would’ve probably slaughtered some animal for the ceremony meal afterwards.

“Are you ready my love?” Joseph asks, his forehead against hers.

“Yes” she responds.

He guides her further into the water. Waist deep now.

Joseph places one more kiss on her forehead, as John reads from the Book of Joseph.

“Let the water purify your soul. Let it cleanse you, and free you of sin. Let God’s guidance free you of sin, and you will become pure again”.

Joseph places one hand on her waist, and the other on her upper back.

Holding her underwater for a few seconds.

Her vision blurry, the bliss infused water filling her lungs.

The sun shining down on her as she’s underwater.

He pulls her back up, she gasps for air. He moves her hair away from her face.

“How do you feel?” Joseph asks, moving her hair back.

Her vision disoriented, everything looks like it's in 3D, blue and red colors.

“I-I feel great” she says, panting.

He kisses her again but this time on her lips.

****************************

4 days later, Mandy goes through the next step on being The Mother of Eden’s Gate, her Confession. It shouldn’t be hard right?!.

She has to confess her sins to John, but Joseph isn’t going to be there to witness it.

You figured he would since she’s technically his “wife”.

John had some of his men get Mandy, and take her to his gate.

They couldn’t take her by force because she’s in favor of being The Mother, and Joseph wouldn’t like his Children manhandling her at all.

They arrive at John’s gate for her confession.

When she enters the building John is right there waiting for her.

He smirks at her, “Good, you’re here”.

“Yeah I’m here. So now what?” she says.

“It’s time for your confession” he says, walking her down a hallway.

They enter a room that resembles a torture chamber.

“So what?, you gonna torture me or what?!” she asks, looking back at him.

He chuckles at her comment, “I’m just gonna use this” he shows her, holding up a tattoo needle, “and I’m gonna put your sin onto your skin. Then you’ll be free”.

“I thought this was a confession?!” she asks, suspiciously.

He hums “Amazing Grace” as he sets up his equipment, “Oh it is, and it's also your atonement”.

She stands 5 feet behind him, arms crossed, looking like a disappointed mother.

Although she’s not intentionally doing this at him, it's a permanent look for her.

Once he sets up everything, he turns to face her. Tilting his head like a confused child.

“Why so disappointed?!” he asks, sounding like a child who upsetted his mother.

She shrugs, “I’m not, it's just my face. It’s normal for me to look disappointed, when you become a parent you’ll understand”.

He chuckles, “I don’t think that’ll be happening anytime soon”.

He grabs the needle off the table, and says “I don’t really see myself being a parent”.

She nods, “Yeah I didn’t see myself getting married, or having kids either. It changes you”.

John looks away, looking down at the tools on the table. He’s trying not to let her words get to him.

But they do anyway, he clears his throat and says, “You- you’re different. A lot different from my mother”.

Mandy, just from looking at the back of his head, she can see the sadness in his posture.

“I’m guessing she wasn’t the best?!” she asks, slowly walking up to him.

“Trauma, abuse. That’s all I’m gonna say’ he says, as he slightly pushes Mandy onto a chair.

“You’re the way you are because of them” she says to him. Holding back tears, he takes a deep breath.

“So Amanda?” he slowly approaches her, “Are you going to say yes?”.

“For consent?” she asks.

“What sins do you have to confess?!” he tells her.

She looks down at the floor for a moment, her mind wanders off into space.

“What sins do you confess? What bad things have you done that you wish to relieve yourself from?” he asks, leaning against a table.

She looks around as she reminisces all the bad stuff she’s done.

“I um- I confess” she looks around once again, her mind going foggy.

Tears began to form in her eyes, “Several months ago when I lost custody of my daughters, we were living in Des Moine, Iowa, and they were at a high school in the city. My youngest daughter, one of her teachers, saw a bunch of bruises, scars and cuts on her arms and hands. The teacher reported it to Child Protective Services, and the police showed up at our home. They took them, I’m not allowed to see them until they turn 18. My youngest told me the name of the teacher that reported it”.

She stops talking, tears streaming down her face, she looks down at the floor.

“Yes?” John says, wanting her to continue her confession.

“I went to the school that same night, and I-” she starts to cry even more.

“Yes? What else happened?” he asks, his voice calm. Placing his hand on her shoulder.

She looks up at him, and says “I killed her, I bashed her head in with a textbook. I buried her body, and the book in the woods a few miles away from the school. I was so angry, I had my husband taken from me, and then my girls”.

She looks down at her hands, tears falling into them.

“Wrath” John says softly, “Your sin is Wrath, it eats at you, it controls what you feel, it eats away at you. Any other sins you want to confess?”.

He asks, moving her hair away from her face behind her ear. Keeping his hand on her back of her head, rubbing circular motions in her hair.

“Pride, because I take pride, too much pride in what I do. I think I’m helping people but all I do is make things worse. I did kill that woman, that teacher because of my own Greed, my own selfishness. I didn’t even stop to think if she had a family or anything. I let my own emotions, feelings take control. I ruined her family because she ruined mine”.

He moves his hand from her head to her shoulder.

“Wrath, Pride, Greed” he says as he starts up the tattoo needle, “Wrath would look nice right here” he points to her chest.

He leans her back, and tattoos Wrath on her chest.

W, then R, A, T and finally H.

It’s not the worst pain she’s ever experienced. It stings, but childbirth is a lot more painful in the moment than getting a tattoo. Of your sin, that will live on your skin forever unless you cover them up.

“Only two more sins, then you’ll be free” he tells her, “Greed will look nice on your left arm”.

He rolls up the sleeves of her shirt, and tattoos her second sin on her left arm.

G, R, E,E then D.

“Just one more sin” he says, wiping her arm.

“Okay” she says, voice trembling.

P, R, I, D and lastly E.

The most sorta painful moment of her life, time seemed to slow down during this whole moment.

“You’re all finished my dear” he says.

Mandy looks down at her arms, Greed and Pride on her arms.

“So is that it?” she asks, wiping away her tears.

“That’s it. You’re all done, most don’t survive, and I gotta say, if most sinners acted more like you. Well behaved, calm and just accept the Power of Yes, they wouldn’t have to endure all the pain, and suffering they get when they resist, or refuse. It’ll make everything a lot easier”.

Mandy looks over at him, and says, “Well I’m The Mother, and I can’t resist”.

She stands up from her seat, and approaches him. Placing her hand on his forearm. Giving him a mother’s loving touch.

“I know deep down you’re a good kid John, maybe if you didn’t go through what you went through as a child your life would be so much different now. But then you would’ve never met me, and I know you wouldn’t know your purpose in this life. But, all you need is a caring parent that’ll never do you harm. My life wasn’t easy growing up, my parents were away from me and my sister. A lot, working”.

She stops, and leaves the room. Leaving John to sink in, and process her motherly words.

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

Text

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Thirty

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

March 25th, 1999

Toby knocked on Remy’s bedroom door, but Remy just sat against it, not allowing him in. “Remy, come on, talk to me, please?” Toby all but begged.

Remy didn’t reply.

“Rem, please. I want to talk to you,” Toby said.

It took all the willpower Remy possessed, but he managed to keep the door closed. Toby had been his one positive influence from someone who could pass as an adult for...as long as Remy could remember, really. And then his parents had to screw that up, and lie about Remy, and make Toby write less and less until he didn’t write at all. To make matters worse, if he got Toby to write him again there was no doubt in his mind that their parents would rake Toby over the coals for it.

Just once, for once in his life, Remy wanted an adult to like him, to be proud of him, to trust him. He wanted respect. Not that he deserved any, but he wanted it anyway.

May 26th, 2001

Remy played with his hands in the car, breathing very carefully so that he didn’t have a panic attack. Emile was constantly sending him glances, and even with music playing in the car, the atmosphere was tense. “You know, Rem, my parents are going to absolutely adore you,” he said.

“But what if they don’t?” Remy asked. “You’re not a mind-reader, you can’t just magically know if they’ll be okay with me dating you or not!”

“Maybe not,” Emile allowed. “But I do know that in everything I’ve done over the years, so long as it makes me happy and it’s not hurting anyone else, they’ll support it. And you make me... very happy.”

“But...but...I can’t even bring you home to my parents,” Remy said, cheeks flaring red. “Because I can’t even bring myself to tell them I’m gay.”

“That’s a safety issue, Rem. You’re not ashamed of being my boyfriend, are you?”

“Of course not!” Remy replied, hands balling into fists, ready to fight.

Emile slowly pried one of Remy’s fists open and Remy sighed, letting his grip go lax. “Then they’ll love you. Because you love me and I love you back, and you make me happy.”

Remy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, nodding. “All right,” he breathed.

Emile pulled to a stop at the curb and gave Remy’s hand a squeeze, stepping out of the car. Remy slowly opened his door and did the same, standing at the edge of a small lawn, while Emile spoke to a man and a woman who had to be his parents.

They turned to him, and he cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “Nice to meet you, Mister and Misses Thomas...”

Misses Thomas stared at him for a few seconds, before turning to her son and asking, “Emile, when are you going to marry this young man?”

“Mom!” Emile exclaimed, going red as a tomato, and Remy wasn’t much better.

“Well, the way you speak about him, he clearly makes you happy,” she said. “When are you going to pop the question?”

Remy was torn between dying of laughter and embarrassment. Clearly, his fears about Emile’s parents not liking him were unfounded.

“Mom! I’m not proposing to him! We’ve been dating all of...like, a month!” Emile said.

“Never too early to start planning,” Misses Thomas said with an enigmatic smile.

“Yes, it is,” Emile said. He turned to Remy and said, “I’m so sorry.”

“Still not worse than my parents,” Remy choked out.

Emile choked on his laughter and Remy managed to crack a small smile. “You’re right, and I hate that you’re right,” Emile said.

“Your father and I made a whole plan to figure out whether or not we need to adopt your boyfriend and in two sentences you undo all our hard work!” Misses Thomas scolded Emile with no real heat behind the words. “Remy, we’re adopting you one way or another. If Emile doesn’t make you our son-in-law we are legally adopting you.”

Remy turned to Emile, squinting. “Did you tell them about my parents?”

“No details!” Emile rushed to assure. “But, they did sorta need to know why we were moving off campus, and over Christmas I mentioned that you were going solo...and they asked why...and...well, my parents know when I’m lying.”

“Everyone knows when you’re lying, honey, your poker face is terrible,” Remy said.

Emile sputtered and Remy’s smile grew into something more relaxed, more natural. “How dare you!” Emile exclaimed, putting a hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know that I have lied to you before and you haven’t known about it!”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not really something you should be admitting,” Remy said, holding up a single finger. “Second of all, I know you were lying about saying that blue shirt doesn’t make me look like a girl, I know you were lying about witnessing Theo and Clara’s drinking games, and I know you were lying all the way back on the day after Halloween when you said I didn’t say anything about liking anybody. Granted, the last one I realized looking back after learning your tells, but yeah, you suck at lying.”

Emile still looked offended and Remy just shrugged with a little smile. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

“You suck,” Emile said.

“I mean, if you ask nicely, but really? In front of your own parents?” Remy laughed.

“I—what? No! No, that is not what I—” Emile cut himself short as he blushed furiously while his parents both laughed.

Remy beamed proudly and Emile was both glaring daggers and blushing as red as Remy had ever seen him blush before. And he had to admit that making Emile blush was kind of fun. Not fun enough to torture him with it, but every once in a while he might make a jab.

When Mister Thomas finally came up for air, he put a hand on Remy’s shoulder and declared, “I like you already.”

Remy blinked in surprise and turned to Emile. Despite furious blushing, Emile said, “Yep, he really means that.”

“Oh. Okay,” Remy said. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. He had never met any of his boyfriends’ parents before in the capacity of being a boyfriend, but the parents he had met were fiercely protective of their sons from any girl coming within a ten mile radius. But to make his boyfriends’ parents laugh genuinely, and to have them like him, for real...he was getting a little choked up.

Emile walked closer, until they could almost touch foreheads if both of them moved a few inches. “You okay?” Emile asked in a low whisper.

“Not used to...positive attention from people older than me,” Remy said.

“Theo gives you positive attention.”

“Theo is also still in college, and therefore by most people’s standards still a kid,” Remy shot back. “I mean like. Actual adults who have done their taxes several years in a row.”

“So like...people you perceive as adults while still technically being an adult yourself,” Emile filled in.

“I guess,” Remy agreed. “Regardless of semantics, I’m still surprised.”

“I said my parents would adore you, I’m not sure why you’re so shocked,” Emile teased.

Remy shrugged. “Uh...trauma? Or something?” he asked.

Emile sobered and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. You saying stuff like that makes me want to hug you, though, I’ll warn you.”

“I won’t object to hugs from you...right now, at any rate.”

No sooner had he said that than Emile wrapped his arms around Remy and held him tightly. Remy offered a light hug back, knowing it paled in comparison to Emile’s hugs, but feeling like that was all he could give in the moment.

It felt like a scene from a rom-com, almost overused and most definitely too common for most people’s tastes, but to a select few, it meant the world. And to Remy, having a select few moments where he was allowed to take in Emile’s warmth, his scent, his everything in unfamiliar territory, well...he hadn’t felt this safe since before Toby went off to college.

That revelation made Remy stiffen minutely. He felt just as safe with Emile as he had with Toby, possibly more so. How was he supposed to understand that? How was he supposed to share that? Emile pulled away as Remy stiffened and Remy moved his hand down Emile’s back until he could grab Emile’s hand and interlace their fingers. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“You okay?” Emile asked again.

“Um. Yeah.” Remy scratched the back of his neck. “I’m fine since you’re here.”

That seemed to have a semi-successful message, because Emile gave Remy’s hand a squeeze with a warm, knowing smile, and Emile dragged him to the trunk, where their stuff was. “We can both share my old room, Mom,” Emile said. “Provided that’s okay with you, Rem?”

“Would we be...sharing a bed?” Remy asked.

“No, I had a bed I used for sleeping and then I had another one for guests, and to stuff massive amounts of pillows on,” Emile said. “We probably wouldn’t fit on one bed. We’re both pretty tall.”

Remy snorted. “True.” He took the suitcase Emile passed him, which he recognized as his by the distinct lack of cartoon-y stickers covering it. During this, Emile never let go of his hand, which Remy appreciated. Emile grabbed his own suitcase and closed the trunk, before taking a breath and saying, “Shall we go inside? At least long enough to put our suitcases in my room?”

“Oh, of course, sweetheart. Do you need any help with your bags?” Misses Thomas asked.

“I think we’ve got it, Mom,” Emile said with a small smile. He didn’t let go of Remy’s hand until they were in his room.

Remy wasn’t sure what he expected to see with Emile’s room. There was a stuffed animal or two, and pillows on two perfectly-made beds, but the paint was fading in different patches all over the walls, patches where posters must have been. The closet was open and empty, and there wasn’t anything on the desk in the room that screamed “Emile lived here.” It was...too bare-bones for him to really understand that Emile grew up in this house, slept in this room. It felt...wrong.

“Hey, Rem?” Emile asked softly.

Remy hummed.

“Can we talk a little bit about what you said?”

Remy turned to look at Emile, who had sat down on one of the beds, looking like he saw a ghost. “Yeah. Though I have to say, this room doesn’t look like an Emile Thomas room, not without cartoon posters and figurines and stuffed animals everywhere.”

Emile smiled, but it was strained. “You said you felt safe since I was here. What does that mean?”

Remy swallowed. He still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to share that. “It means...it means that you feel safe, in my head. Toby was the same way, when we were kids.” Remy began to pace, hands flying around his face as he tried to explain. “Toby was the one who made sure I was okay when Mom and Dad fought. Vanessa never did it, for one reason or another, but Toby would help me calm down and stay quiet and out of the way. So Toby grew to represent safety. He’s...yeah. He’s still safe, wherever he is, and the reason it was a sucker-punch when I lost him wasn’t just because I lost him, but I lost that safety too. But...but when you hugged me today, I realized that I get the same kind of comfort from you now. You just...you feel safe. I can’t describe all that entails or why you feel that way, but you do.”

Emile took a breath, and let it out slowly. “Oh...okay.”

“Is that bad?” Remy asked.

“No! No, it’s not bad,” Emile rushed to assure, standing up and walking over to Remy, taking his hands. “I’m honored to be your safe space. I just...I didn’t realize I was. I didn’t realize...that you trusted me that much. I guess that’s my bad for assuming, huh?”

Remy shrugged. “It’s whatever, don’t worry about it. I didn’t realize that I did that either, until like five minutes ago. And your parents seem really sweet, but I’m still lowkey terrified.”

“Oh, I know what will change that,” Emile said with a grin.

“What?” Remy asked.

Emile bounced to his bedroom door and hollered through the house, “Hey, Dad! Can Remy and I help with lunch?!”

There was a faint, “Sure!” from somewhere inside, and Remy blinked.

“Well, I didn’t expect him to agree that fast!” Emile laughed. “My dad loves to cook, and the more you cook with him, the more you get to know him. He’ll make sure you feel right at ease while you work. I’ve been learning how to make stuff from him, although I use shortcuts when I can. You might enjoy helping him cook from scratch.”

“Sounds fun,” Remy admitted.

“It is fun! Do you want to head down now and help figure out what we’ll be eating?” Emile asked.

Remy offered a small smile and a nod. “Sure, why not?”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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bave-de-crapaud · 4 years

Text

The Darkness Within...

CHAPTER FIVE

(Yearning by crescentcreations.storenvy.com)

Request by: the babe @belladonnarey

A/N: hmmm this one took a while BUT it (hopefully) is the smut you have been waiting for. Let me know what you like about it, what you don’t, what you think will happen. Enjoy and stay safe. Sirius x Reader Older Sirius Sirius Lives/Post Azkaban Smutty McSmut Word count: 5500+ Disclaimer: All characters are assumed 18+ Warnings: Smut!

—-

Finding yourself at Number 12 Grimmauld Place became a regular if normal occurrence over the next few weeks. In your spare time you sat on the floor in Sirius’ library, pouring over dusty volumes containing everything and anything related to wizards and witches with ‘eccentric abilities’ - the technical term to what you had, apparently.

The good thing about this was you weren’t the only one who had surfaced over the years with strange skills, there were wizards who could command water without a wand, witches who with one touch could drain a person of their fears, individuals who could fly sans apparatus and countless others who had fascinating and outrageous traits. The bad thing was none of these wizards were alive today to speak with, the last person with documented abilities had died over 100 years ago. Yet again you felt like you were on this journey on your own.

Sirius and Remus were constantly in and out of the house completing various missions and tasks for the order. Sirius checked on you often, bringing you tea or something to eat but kept himself scarce to let you figure out your mysteries alone. He seemed to understand that this was a private affair for you and you were grateful for the time. However each night around 8pm he would come into the Library, sit on one of the old leather couches and ask you about your day.

You caught snippets of what he and Remus had been up to and learned that one of the missions ended in a grizzly discovery of Macnair’s body - found dead in his home - magic obviously the cause of torture and death.

Voldemort had become less of a focus in your mind and each time you were called to his presence you found it easy to resist his psychological torment. The disgust on your face was not evident when fellow Death Eaters talked about their foul crimes. Being around Sirius was giving you a strength you never knew you had. The way he threw himself into fighting for equality and the right to live no matter what situation or who he had to work with, both humbled and amazed you. If he can put up with more than 12 years of the world thinking he was a betrayer and cold-blooded killer who was associated with Death Eaters and Voldemort, then you could put up with sporadically rubbing shoulders with Malfoy, Lestrange, and their cronies.

Your new attitude didn’t go unnoticed, it was put down to you growing a stronger stomach for violence and generally taken positively amongst the Death Eater ranks. However, Voldemort, though he outwardly showed no signs of displeasure, watched you more and decided to hold whatever he wanted Macnair to deliver to you for later. Like any nefarious leader, he was constantly on the lookout for a rat in his ranks and you were not exempt from this scrutiny.

After every Death Eater meeting, you would return home before heading over to Grimmauld Place, a new sanctuary, to pour over more books and hopefully absorb the good vibes from its admirable inhabitants. This made being with Death Eaters bearable. On the nights of Order meetings, however, you stayed away. Those evenings were becoming Sirius’ least favourite. It made sense to shield you from them for your own and others’ safety. However, that didn’t stop him feeling concerned for you. Reckless and impulsive, he may be, he was also a very intuitive and perceptive man. He hadn’t failed to notice how much you seem to relax in his library. He wanted that for you, relating to that feeling of relief as almost an addictive substance, he knew you needed and craved it and he wanted to give it to you. Badly.

He felt protective and territorial of you. If he really wanted to analyse his feelings he would have noticed that your safety, though paramount, was not the only reason he wanted you to come to his house: the lingering looks as he gave you yet another cup of tea, finding a way to bring you into conversation with Remus, seemingly innocently, was a dead giveaway of deeper feelings. Remus said nothing, prefering to feign ignorance, yet the annoyingly knowing looks he gave Sirius hinted otherwise.

“Just ask her, Padfoot.” Remus sighed exasperatedly, shuffling his paper one day as Sirius kept looking towards the door of his library, knowing you were inside.

“Ask her what?” Sirius tried and failed to nonchalantly reply.

“Out, mate!”

Sirius frowned, placing both hands on the kitchen table as though readying his defense. “For one: what makes you think I want to ask her out? And two: I couldn’t anyway - we are supposed to be on opposing sides remember?”

Remus stared at his friend, conceding defeat but not enough to hold in his last words before disappearing behind the Daily Prophet; “True but if it can be concealed from the Death Eaters that she is at your house every day, then asking her to have dinner with you is not a huge step up I would think.”

There was another reason, Sirius hadn’t tried to gauge your feelings: He didn’t want you to think he was just trying to get a leg over. Your outright statement about his intentions after he first visited your house, had stuck with him. He concluded that you didn’t want him and pursuing you would only harden your view towards him further. So he played it safe, frustrating himself and unknowingly frustrating you in the process.

—

Sirius’ library was vast and carried more volumes on runes than all the franchises of Flourish and Blotts combined. What was interesting was that the interpretation of runes and ancient markings was just as vast and also open into a plethora of interpretation. You had discovered that the rune on your chest - the mirror image of one of Sirius’ tattoos - did indeed mean ‘destruction’ but in a form of new growth. Much like a farmer sowing soil, ridding the earth of old, dead, and rotting plants preparing it for new seeds.

Two runes on your left arm meant ‘Harm To My Enemies’ and another on your thigh could be interpreted as ‘The East Wind’. Other forms of your abilities were harder to quantify as there was no record of someone with all the same traits as you, however, those who had shown up throughout history with varying sources of atypical power were more often than not tyrants and individuals who used their abilities for evil. Stories of wizards who did not feel cold, commanding animals, and manipulating the elements such as fire were largely negative however speckled throughout the research were wizards who were great warriors, shepherds of the people, and in some cases just normal citizens living their lives like everyone else

Though you were slowly and steadily finding out more information about your powers and relished the time you were so easily given you couldn’t help but wish for Sirius’ company more often than an hour or two at night. Luckily for you, that was about to change.

—

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” You were sat on the floor in front of the fireplace staring gloomily at your fifth cup of tea.

You smiled “Sirius I’m so grateful for you letting me stay but I was wondering - do you have anything other than tea?”

He smirked and left the room returning seconds later with a bottle of fire whiskey.

Handing you a large glass he clinked it with his and took his place back on the couch asking you again how was your day. Each night Sirius had helped you with your findings, giving his opinion or helping you to digest what you had read. He was adamant that your powers weren’t evil and that you needed to be confident in your choice to do what was right. He had served to make you feel good about yourself a lot but you wondered if he had the same support from his pairs. Tonight you put aside your research and decided to question him about his life. You had gleaned a bit about him over the last month but he was infinitely fascinating to you and seemed like a well of untapped ideas and beliefs.

He talked about his family, his friends, and the Order. He told you light hearted tales about his Hogwarts days and he talked at length about Harry and how sometimes he was nervous about his parenting role considering Walburga and Orion were such poor examples to go off.

“You know, you are not what I thought.” You said boldly after a moment of silence.

Sirius sat up straighter on the couch and cocked his eyebrow at you. A side smile not quite covering a flicker of worry in his eyes.

“Oh?” Was all he said. “Yeah.” You walked forwards from your current position in front of the mantle place and took a seat beside him.

“You care more about what people think than you let on.”

“Is that so?” He subconsciously moved his body so it was angled towards you.

“Yeah, and you are not as much of a dog around the ladies as I thought you’d be.” Sirius barked out a laugh at this. “Why thank you Y/N, but to be fair you have never seen me around ‘the ladies.’”

“I’ve seen you around me.” You answered bluntly. “You aren’t all over me with cheap pick up lines and cocky bravado.”

Sirius turned his head away and tried to hold in a laugh. Where was this coming from? He wondered.

“Is that how you think I would woo a woman? I’m slightly offended, Y/N.” He didn’t look it. He looked amused and a little interested.

He wasn’t able to tell if you were joking and as you glimmered at him, taking another sip of your drink.

“I don’t sleep around you know. I haven’t done that since I was 20, but unfortunately, that reputation has always preceded me.”

“You probably deserved it!”

He scoffed, turning back to stare at the fire; “Probably, and don’t get me wrong I still like meeting new people but I have long since learned sex is far better with someone you have a connection with.”

“Ok then.” You said brightly, gaining his attention again. “What would you do?”

“What would I do, when?” Sirius narrowed his eyebrows slightly, confused.

“When you want to “woo” a woman.” You signalled quotation marks in the air as you said the word ‘woo’ earning another quick chuckle from him.

Sirius paused, looking at you intently, cogs working fast in his brain. She wants you to woo her? No, she wants you to show her what you would do to woo her. Does that mean she wants me?

As Sirius battled these rapid thoughts, your own inner monologue was pipping up as well: This is a dangerous game, Y/N. You are leading him on and you know it. It’s too dangerous, you can’t do anything with him. Don’t confuse the poor guy…unless you want to be leading him on. Do you?

Shaking your head and forcing yourself to believe this would just be a fun game you crossed your legs leaning closer to Sirius.

He noticed glancing at your legs, smooth skin exposed up to past mid-thigh where your skirt took over covering the rest from there.

He looked back into your eyes and noticed a difference. Your pupils were bigger and there was a faint purple hue in your irises.

Right now, the sexual tension in the room could be cut with a knife. It had been building over the past few weeks. An accidental touch here and there, a smile, or a look that meant everything and nothing at the same time from him would floor you. When he looked over your shoulder to consider whatever book you were showing him, little puffs of his breath in your ear flooded your body with heat making it impossible to concentrate. All these reactions confused you and created a chronic longing feeling in your chest you had not experienced before. It made you feel warm, content, and giddy.

Never having fallen for anyone before, you didn’t recognise the signs, the changes in your body and the effect he had on you mentally and physically. By the time these feelings had reached boiling point he was sitting next to you and your body was doing the thinking for you. God you wanted him to touch you. To an untrained eye Sirius looked so cool and collected, however beneath the surface he was anything but.

Since Remus had confronted him about asking you out, Sirius had thought little else. He was super aware of his body language, how it angled him towards you, begging him to take a step closer even if just to place his hand on your back as he passed. Believing that you didn’t want that from him, he was careful not to brush past you or stand too close and cause you to feel uncomfortable. He constantly watched himself and made sure he didn’t give you the wrong idea. It was hard though. Very hard.

Just yesterday he nearly pinned you against the wall and kissed you. He was walking you out and after a long night of research, you were tired and not watching where you were going. Just as he was saying “watch out for the…” you kicked over that bloody troll leg again. Instead of steading yourself, your first thought was not to wake up Sirius’ Mother’s portrait so you reached back to catch the falling article before its clatter made a sound. Overreaching, you fell backward into something hard and warm: Sirius’ chest. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and upright.

“Are you ok?” he whispered in your ear, his puffs of breath once again making your veins tingle.

You swallowed and exited abruptly leaving Sirius cursing himself for what he thought was his incongruous behaviour. As far as you were concerned, it had been anything but and you were unable to stop thinking of him for the rest of the evening, dreaming of those same arms doing other far more inappropriate things making your sleep wrought with pleasurable shivers and fever. Oh God, was he ever going to come closer?

Until this evening he had been the perfect gentleman, respecting your boundaries and staying just out of reach. Apart from the one incident in the hallway, you hadn’t felt his touch, no matter how innocent, since he had carried you up the stairs to bed and that was having an unacceptable effect on you. It made you lean towards him further, lick your lips whenever he was near, and glance at his body when he wasn’t looking in a completely wanton way. He must notice the heat coming from me? You thought. He seemed so relaxed, not at all perturbed by your presence.

How wrong you were. Inside, Sirius was struggling. He was trying to be a gentleman but it was hard, you were making it hard. Do you actually want him? He was ok with just being in your orbit slowly torturing himself at not touching you, content at just being there but this evening, your flirting coupled with the fire whiskey was not helping, in fact, its lubricating effects ware making resisting anything you said that could be slightly construed as even vague interest, very, very difficult.

Sirius cleared his throat. Not taking his eyes off you. “You want me to show you how I ask a woman out?”

“Yes, show me your moves!”

Sirius smiled but his eyes held a serious, almost pained look. Before you could ask him what was wrong he shuffled in his seat.

“Y/N, I don’t have moves I just sort of feel a situation out, see if she likes me and then go from there.”

“Ok well, show me how you do that. Come on.” You egged him as he gave you a look of doubt. “It’ll be fun.”

It’ll be torture. Sirius thought, but you were looking at him with such a blazing warmth in your eyes, he relented and shifted so he was closer to you.

“Well, if I like her I have usually gotten to know her a little bit, watched the way she moves, adjusted my body language to suit whatever she is comfortable with, and look for signs she is interested in me too.”

He stretched so his right arm was running along the back of the couch, behind you, touching your shoulder ever so lightly. You shivered at the contact.

“Then I guess I would let her take the lead.” His voice had lowered and you noticed he had leaned closer to you. You had also noticed that the outside of his right leg was pressed against your crossed calves and as he leaned to you further you got a whiff of his cologne. The musky, manly scent combined with his closeness dilated your pupils further and sent your mind whirling.

Before you could collect yourself Sirius gave you a slow, mischievous smile, took a sip of his drink and said very quietly; “Your turn.”

“My…w-what?” you uttered, stammering slightly.

“Your turn to show me your moves.”

Fuck you wanted him. Could you? No? Slowly, not realising it you inched closer to him.

You were nervous, Sirius could finally see that. Whatever he was doing had an effect on you. Sirius loved the excitement of turning someone else on, this was him in his element. However, unlike most interactions with the opposite sex, this one was equally thrilling and torturing him. Setting his glass down and gathering a sliver of confidence he tentatively he placed his left hand on your thigh. You sucked in a sharp breath which he mistook for fear immediately whipping his hand away and opening his mouth to apologise only to be interrupted by the words: “Don’t stop.”

He looked back at you, having just enough time to register your meaning before you lunged forward, capturing his lips in yours.

There was a seconds pause then Sirius was returning your kiss with fervor. He wrapped his arms around your back clinging to your shirt before lifting you up and onto his lap, legs either side of his, pressing into him exquisitely.

He tasted like fire whiskey and something sweet at the same time.

He moved his hand through your hair holding your head while the other held your lower back pressing you firmly, further into him. Suddenly the hand holding your head was gone and running up your outer thigh, underneath your skirt.

His warm fingers caressed your upper thigh, moving further to touch the tip of your hip and run tantalizing circles across your backside.

His kisses were feverish and sending you reeling. The way he swept his tongue across your lips opening them and deepening the kiss was tantalizing. Clinging to him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, you ground down into his crotch and he groaned, opening his eyes. They were heavy with desire.

Sirius squeezed your bum picking you up and laying you back down on the couch. He didn’t remove his lips from yours as he wrapped your legs around his waist and lowered his body onto yours.

You arched up into him and he was immediately transported to the first dream he had of you, lying naked on his bed. He let out a shuddered breath; “You are so beautiful, Y/N. I want you.”

Instead of being flattered by this, a voice popped up in the back of your mind; Did he though? Shaken by this sudden thought, then jumping slightly at the bang of the front door signifying the probable return home of Remus served to knock you back into reality. The situation suddenly became very clear to you. You had just thrown yourself at a man who was known for sleeping with multiple women, very easily it seemed if you were to believe what he said before - he didn’t have to do anything and they offered themselves to him.

Of course he wanted you - you had led him on with your ‘game’ basically given yourself up to him on a platter. This wasn’t real, it was convenient and you could seriously hurt him if you let him in further.

Seeing the change in your face, Sirius sat up, “Y/N, are you ok? Was this too fast?.”

“Sirius..I” you were so embarrassed. Sitting up, quickly removing your legs from around him.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.” He could see the blush rising up around your cheeks and you couldn’t look at him.

“Shouldn’t have? What do you mean - I think this was on both of us. Don’t you?”

“I mean.” You screwed your eyes shut, breathing deeply, “I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea…I… I don’t do one nightstands.”

“One nightstands?” he was frowning at you, confused, his mind racing. Didn’t she hear me before?

Seeing him frown and mistaking it for annoyance rather than confusion you stood up and started to back towards the door. “I should go, I’m so sorry for coming on to you.”

“Y/N! Wait!” But before he could take two steps towards you, you had turned on your heel and raced out the door.

“Y/N!” Sirius was still calling your name as you shot out the front door, turning on the spot to disapparate.

—

“Argh, Y/N how could you be so stupid!” You cursed yourself as you walked around your kitchen.

That had been the hottest, most erotic thing that had happened to you and you choked, freaked out, and left.

You wanted Sirius it was true but you couldn’t quite believe someone like him could want you for anything more than a one time fling. No one else had wanted more so what made him any different?

Plus even if he did there was a real chance you could lose it and hurt him. The feelings he elicited from you were unreal and you had never felt that alive and heated before. It both thrilled and frightened you to your bones.

Though the research you conducted in his library had opened up ideas that you hadn’t had before - you were still afraid. Sirius had quickly and unquestionably become your favourite person and you didn’t think your poor heart could take having him in the most intimate way and then not having him again. So you had done the most adult thing you could think of: insulted his intentions and run away. “Brilliant!” You spat.

Back at Geimmauld Place, Sirius was pacing up and down the hall. “YOU IDIOT!” He yelled at himself waking up his mother. “Oh shut the fuck up you old hag!” Storming out of the house, and out into the night air helped calm him and give him clarity. He disapparated instantly.

Lifting your head from your hands you got up from the kitchen table as you heard a soft knock at your front door.

Sirius stood at your door with a dark, devastating look.

“Sirius I…” you began.

“I want you more than just for tonight.” He blurted out. “I have for a long time”

“What if I hurt you?”

He walked in, eyes dark and grabbed you, “You won’t.”

He let you go and stood before you, waiting. He wanted you to be sure of him and sure of yourself. His broad shoulders quivered under your stare, not with fear but ready to do anything you desired. Sirius was a handsome man, sure, but standing before you laying his cards on the line, his need for you so obvious and open made him the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He was not afraid of anything. His confidence fanned yours and you ignored the fear building in your stomach and stepped into him.

Attaching himself to your lips once more he didn’t look as he closed the front door and led you towards your staircase.

Laying you down on your bed once again he hovered above you, one muscled arm on either side of your head. This view of you sprawled out underneath him jogged his memory and as he recalled first dream about you again. He closed his eyes and shuddered.

“What’s wrong Sirius?”

Your concern was squashed by a sly smile. He opened his eyes and said with a smirk: “I’ve dreamt about this before”

“Is that so?”

“Yes” he looked at you intently.

“What did dream me do?”

You couldn’t quite hold your smug smile while Sirius bit his lip and told you.

Wrapping your legs around him once more, you pulled him down on top of you. Hands running down his sides as you kissed him, you felt his muscles tense at each spot you touched. Whatever you were doing to him, he enjoyed it.

Taking great effort to wrench his lips from yours Sirius looked at you once more and asked: “Y/N, would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?”

Looking surprised, you nodded. He smiled. “I meant what I said. This isn’t just a once off. Not for me.”

“I know.” You conceded. “I also just didn’t want my first time to be meaningless.” “Your first time?” Sirius looked shocked. “You mean you’ve never…?”

You shook your head, grimacing slightly hoping this didn’t change anything.

“Oh Y/N, are you sure?” Sirius was surprised and, if possible, turned on even more. There was something so special about sharing someone’s first experience. Meaning something so much to them that they wanted to be with you. He felt sexy, powerful, and potent which combined with how long he had lusted over you and the way you moved, made it incredibly hard for him to focus.

“Yes Sirius.” The brazen look in your eyes and the way you ran your hands in sweeping strokes around his body told him that though you may not have had sex you had had other intimate experiences and you knew what you wanted.

He shuddered once more, closing his eyes as you arched up into him again.

“Y/N.” His voice came out in a rasp. “God, you are turning me on… I want you so badly but if this is not right for you please tell me and we’ll stop.”

You surprised him by laughing softly. “You’re sort of killing the mood, Sirius. I want this, I want you - you know you are not the only one who has touched themselves dreaming about us.”

Suddenly, with a twirl of your fingers, soft, malleable ropes appeared at your wrists. Gently lifting your arms up and firmly tying your hands to your bedpost.

Sirius’ jaw dropped and he almost started drooling. The look on his face, one of absolute adoration, spurred you on further. Another flick of your wrist and your clothes slowly started peeling themselves off your body, ripping in parts to remove themselves from you until you were lying naked, stretched underneath him, replicating that particular dream perfectly.

As you looked up at him through relaxed eyelids and purred; “I want you to touch me, Sirius.” He nearly came undone.

Though he was only wearing his jeans and a shirt he couldn’t get naked fast enough.

Sirius laid his body against yours, groaning at the feel of your soft skin. He kissed you deeply, letting one arm hold himself while the other dipped low, wandering further until it came torturously close to your clit before moving passed and circling your inner thigh.

You groaned with frustration and he smiled into your lips as he kissed you, tongue sweeping inside your mouth lighting sparks inside your head.

Each time he neared closer to your core, your breath hitched, waiting, only to be expelled in frustration as he moved passed and to another area.

He explored your mouth, your neck, your collar bone, and your nipples with his mouth, all the while coming close to touching you where you needed but not getting close enough.

Finally, he swept his finger up the line of your folds and flicked your clit. A move that literally took your breath away and his. He could feel how wet you were and it made his cock twitch with excitement. “Oh, Y/N.”

His teasing had become torturous for him as well. If he wasn’t careful, your body was going to turn him on so much that he might come on you rather than inside you like he desperately wanted.

He moved down to flick your nipple with his tongue then continued further south until his head was level with your core. A brush of stubble on your inner thigh had you jolting. He kissed the spot, sparking your lust even more. Not able to take any more teasing, “please Sirius” you begged. The desperate timbre of your voice made him feel incredibly desired.

He gently made taught the skin above your clit tilting it upwards and licking it, so lightly but giving you the feeling of being shocked with the most incredible surge of power. A whimper and a groan encouraged him to carry on and soon he was holding your bucking hips down as he continued to rapidly lick, and flick the sensitive bead. You could feel a sudden blooming inside you, growing outwards, and upwards lighting even your soul on fire. Suddenly afraid your weird powers might cause you to lash out and hurt him you made to move away but he held you down and stopped his tongue briefly enough to growl, “you won’t, just let go.”

He shifted his free hand under your bum and squeezed as he buried his face once more in your core. There it was again, that sweet hot feeling running through your bones. A warm glow washed over you and into him - consuming him filling him with love. You could feel his devotion to you, how turned on he was, how much he longed for you. This had never happened previously and before you could process it the orgasm he gave you lifted you off the bed causing you to cry out his name over and over. He did not relent, it was exquisite ecstasy.

“Oh God, oh God…” you breathed, hyperventilating from how good he had made you feel. Sirius was smiling, he had made his way back up the bed and was lying next to you, stroking your side.

You wrenched your arms out of the ropes and launched at him, taking him off guard and kissing him deeply, pushing yourself on top of him until you were straddling his lap just like you had only moments ago in his library.

Sirius’ cocky smile turned into an ‘oh’ as his mouth opened while you grabbed his erection and placed it at your entrance. Wetting the tip from your already dripping core you slowly began to slide down.

Sirius, groaned, bit his lip and grasped your hips. He was utterly and irrevocably under your spell.

Feeling a stretch, painful at first, you continued to slide down until a snapping feeling followed by a slight relief brought you to the bottom of his shaft.

Taking your breath you slowly started to move up and down his cock, squeezing intermittently and kissing him sporadically.

The frenzy he had whipped you into before had served to lubricate your entrance so though there was some pain at first, it soon gave way to a delightfully filling feeling.

“Ohhh Y/N” Sirius groaned as your inner walls stroked his shaft. You were tight, as he expected but your smooth movements and rocking of your hips blew him away. If this was you at your first time then he was in for a real treat when you had more experience under your belt. Thoughts of you experimenting with others flashed across his mind and he growled. Territorial hormones took him over as he squeezed your hips hard lifting his own up into you, hitting a spot inside you that caused you to moan.

Sirius noticed this and increased the snapping of his hips. Continuous thrusts meeting each other coupled with your already sensitive clit rubbing against the rough hair on his pelvis was causing an orgasm to build again. Surely not? Not at your first instance of sex, you thought?

A delightful wave tickled your walls and you shivered. “Sirius, I’m going to come. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t, reaching down between you he rubbed your clit once more to bring your orgasm about faster. Feeling your walls clamp down around him his thrusts became sloppier and as you came, unraveling on top of him he found his release crying your name and squeezing your hips painfully.

You fell forward on top of him and he instantly wrapped his arms around you rolling you to the side, still inside of you showing no signs he wanted to get up.

Laying there entwined with him, you felt the content warm feeling ripple through you again. You had let go and not lost control! If you could do this then you could do anything. No more holding back. In one act of love Sirius had helped you break the shackles of fear and find relief from a lifetime of pressure and concern. You felt light and confident. Chuckling to yourself he looked at you cocking an eyebrow in question.

“Well Sirius, those were some good moves!”

There was a beat and then you both laughed.

—- Tag list: @sirius-lysad @riddikuluslypotter @emmamass24 @evyiione @mylovelykelsifer @sly-vixen-up2nogood @ashkuuuu @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @borbole-teias @legalyred @qwertyokok

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius #sirius black fanfiction #sirius fanfic #sirius black imagine #sirius imagine #HP #Harry Potter #Harry Potter universe #post azkaban #sirius lives #Smut #slow burn #OLDER SIRIUS #imagine #fanfic #writing #request

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

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Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 4 Part 1

Hello all, once again, k7l4d4 is here with another piece of Midnight Striga! Everybody clap your hands!!

“Ugh! I can’t believe you’re going to be working for Bump!” Eda groans, irritably sorting through the Lacrimas she had accumulated over the years. She placed her palm against the wall, turning a tired eye onto Luz. “Seriously, what could’ve possibly made you think working at a site of,” She shudders, “Institutional learning, could be a good idea? I mean, you live with a criminal.” She finishes, pointing her thumb at herself.

Luz snorted, looking up in thought. “Hey, it’s better than the education I got.”

Eda cocked her hips, a considering look on her face. “Oh? How so.”

“Well, my first teacher was very much a believer of the “trial by fire” method of teaching,” Luz mused nostalgically. “One of his favorite ways of seeing if I actually understood a lesson was to put me in a situation where I’d have to prove it.” She gave a sigh of content. “Ah, those were the days, when my biggest worries were if I would be chucked off a roof to see if my reinforcement was functioning.”

Eda and King froze from their work, looking shocked. Clearing her throat, Eda spoke up. “Uh, you maybe want to clarify that a little? Because it sounds like your ‘teacher,’” She gave air-quotes around the word, ”was basically just torturing you.”

“Yeah!” King shouted. “Nobody harms my followers without my permission!”

Luz laughed. “Nah, he wasn’t that bad.” She paused for a moment. “Okay, he could be that bad. But he was mostly a pretty great guy all around. He only really did that sort of thing with practical stuff, and he usually scaled it to wherever I was supposed to be at in my training, so even if I screwed up, I wouldn’t be too badly hurt.”

Eda gave a disbelieving look. “Uh huh, right.” Knowing she wasn’t gonna get anywhere with this, Eda sighed, deciding to change the topic. “Well, speaking of teaching, just what are you gonna be teaching those kids, anyway?”

King through in his own two-cents. “The King of Demons demands to know as well!”

“Well, I’m not technically going to be a teacher, more of a Counselor honestly.” Luz mused. “But I will be helping kids find more flexible ways of thinking and doing in regards to their magic, particularly those who have hit some kind of block. And, if anyone’s interested,” She patted the stack of texts next to her. “I’ve got some Human Style Magic they can take a peak at.” She finished, giving Eda a cheeky wink.

Eda blinked, before bursting into laughter. “Ohohohoho my Titan Kid! You are planning on using your job to subvert the Coven System!?” Eda incredulously asked, feeling genuinely impressed at the gall of the girl before her.

Luz impishly shrugged. “Hmm… maybe I am, Maybe I ain’t. It’s not like I’m gonna say anything.” She leaned forward, fluttering her eyes. “And besides, who would possibly believe a weak, magicless Human was working to subvert the borderline indoctrinative methods of the ruler’s system of power?”

The three paused, before bursting into laughter. Luz, powerless? The idea was hilariously inaccurate. True, Luz may not be the toughest on the Isles, but she was canny, experienced, and had access to abilities never seen before.

“Still,” Luz said, stretching herself out as she pulled to her feet. “I really do gotta figure out how I’m actually gonna teach these kids magic, you know?” Luz took a thinking pose, hands clasped under her chin, before snapping her fingers. “Hey, King.” She called out.

“Weh? What do you need?” King asked, perplexed as to why he was being singled out. “If this is about the snacks missing from the cabinets, it wasn’t me!”

Luz coughed, trying to not laugh at his slight panic. “Nah, that’s not it.” She reassured the small demon. “I’m trying to see if I can make this work. I’ve got to figure out how to teach people on the Isles magic like I use, but to do that, I’ll need a test subject.” She leaned forward, sporting a devious grin. “And you’re it.”

“Me?” King asked, pointing to himself. His eyes widened as realization struck. “You mean you’re gonna teach me magic!?” He demanded in an excited tone.

“Bingo!” Luz cheered.

Eda gave a thoughtful look. “And just how exactly are you going to teach King magic?” Her words caused King to slump over in dejection.

“She’s right. I don’t even have a bile sack.” King muttered, despondent.

“Upupup! None of that.” Luz said sternly. She gave a King a smirk. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. And hey, the worst I can do is fail, right?” She peered down at King, who visibly perked up at her words.

“Yeah… yeah!” King cheered, feeling reinvigorated. “Whether you succeed or fail, I will still be the King of Demons!”

“That’s the spirit!” Luz said, ruffling his head, much to King’s slight annoyance (and some enjoyment). Raising back her hand, she allowed a potent glow to suffuse it, before staring intently at King. “I got to ask, are you okay with this? I know I said I’d use you as a Test Case, but you can back out.”

“Ha!” King barked, head tilted back imperiously. “The mighty King of Demons is prepared for anything! Go ahead, I can take it!”

“Okay,” Luz said, sounding slightly unsure. “But remember, you asked for this.”

“Asked for wha-?” King asked, or rather, started to ask, only to be cut off… by the brutal Karate Chop Luz had delivered to his skull. The glow infused into her hand swiftly transferred down the point of impact, now flowing into and throughout King’s body. It would’ve been glorious… if it wasn’t so painful!

“YYYEEEEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!” King absolutely howled in pain, clutching his pounding skull in response to the intense ache surging through it. Eda could only stare in shock as Luz looked on in worry as King frantically rolled across the floor, trying to calm the raging pain in his cranium. “WHAT IN THE TITAN’S NAME DID YOU DO!?!?”

Luz chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry, I basically just shoved raw magic into your body so you could learn to manipulate it.” She awkwardly rubbed the back of her head. “That was what my teacher used to call “the quick and dirty method.” I was basically trying to jump start the usual process most humans use to learn magic; most humans, when they try to learn magic, find magical energy and allow themselves to grow attuned to it, and let it infuse their bodies, allowing them to gradually grow more and more comfortable with manipulating it, and storing it.” With her little explanation done, she bent down level with King, a concerned look in her eyes. “Sorry King, I just don’t have the time to teach these kids the usual way, so I needed to find out if this method would work. Sorry I used you to test it out. Are you okay?”

Grumbling, King rubbed at his head, sighing as the ache finally subsided. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was still painful though.”

Eda snorted, nonplussed at what had just happened. “I’ll bet.” Moving quickly, she joined the small huddle, giving King an appraising look. “So, do you think it worked?” She asked, looking at Luz.

Luz shrugged. “I really couldn’t say. Can you feel anything, King?” She asked.

King held up a finger, focusing. “I think I can feel something.” He said, honing in as best he could on the sensation; it was bizarre, to say the least, as it felt like energy was pouring through him, circulating through his body, before pooling and condensing in his chest. Was this anything like Eda felt when she used magic? “Yeah, I think I can feel it!” He cheered lightly, before gaining a confused look. “But… Now what do I do with it?”

Eda gave a slight shrug. “The heck if I know. I’m just as you are when it comes to Magic like this. You got any ideas, kid?” Eda turned, looking towards Luz, who seemed to be pondering the situation.

“I think I’ve got something that can get King started.” Luz mused confidently. Walking over to her assorted texts, Luz rummaged for a moment, before pulling out the book she was looking for. “Here it is!”

Walking back, she presented it to King. As he grasped it, he read the title out loud. “Here Me Roar: A Comprehensive Guide to Sound Magic?” He glanced up at a preening Luz. “Not that I don’t appreciate this and all, but where’d you get it?” Luz suddenly became very still.

“Uh, you know, I just picked it up on my travels! Yup, that’s totally what happened!!” Luz shakily laughed, glancing back and forth. King and Eda shared dubious looks.

“Yeah.” Eda drawled. She clapped her hands together firmly. “So! Now that we’ve gotten this all out of the way, I’ve got to take care of the barrier before the rain hits.”

“Barrier?” Luz wondered. “Why do we need a barrier? It’s just rain- the rain’s weird here, isn’t it?” She started to ask, before facepalming in realization.

“I guess it’d be weird by human standards.” Eda admitted. “But yeah, the weather around here is more like plagues.” She started counting off her fingers. “Shale hail, Gore-Nados, Painbows,” (“Those are rainbows that turn you inside out when you look at them!” King added)

“And, of course, Boiling Rain.” Eda finished. She opened the door, showing the encroaching clouds in the distance, and the frantic panic of everything under the falling water.

“Huh, you learn something new every day.” Luz muttered, watching Eda get to work putting up the barrier. She gave the barrier a critical look as it went up; by the standards of the Isles, it was most likely a pretty advanced one, for its job anyway, but Luz thought she saw some flaws in it that could be patched up later, at least once the rain passed.

Sighing, Luz plopped herself down on the couch, flipping through the encyclopedia of demons King regularly poured over; she wasn’t sure how much of this book was accurate, and several of these demons just flat out sounded ridiculous. “Smoochie Pie?” Seriously? But still, some of them gave her a vibe that had her hackles up, just in case they actually were real. Like this Snaggleback thing; a prowling beast that stalks through the otherwise lethal rain and preys on anyone who’s stuck in it or whose shelter is isolated? Yeah, if she saw the thing, she was squashing it, no way was she going to let something that deadly run around.

Tearing herself from her potentially murderous thoughts, Luz glanced at King, his eyes devouring the text in front of him. She smirked. She just had a feeling that sound magic would be a good fit for him, with how much he wanted to be heard and respected. It made sense, a magic that would let himself always be heard, she just hoped he would be able to learn it.

Boscha’s fist crashed against the tree. With a huff, she pulled back, flexing her hand, staring at the scar that decorated it.

“Miss Boscha, due to the extenuating circumstances, you will not be officially punished for your recent conduct.” Bump said gravely.

“Thank you, sir.” Boscha stated as politely as she could.

“However.” Bump started, causing Boscha to become alert. “Due to the condition of your magical abilities, as well as your reported history of abusing your status as a top Grudgby player, whereas the services of our new Counselor are nominally voluntary for others, for you they will be mandatory. If you allow yourself to lose control again, or have another incident of abusing your influence within the school, there will be steeper consequences. Am I understood?”

Boscha nodded, feeling hollow. “Perfectly, sir.”

With a snort at the memory, Boscha went back to punching the tree, taking careful note of the dents and breakage in the wood in response to her attacks. As she picked up the pacing of her blows, Boscha carefully measured how much damage she was doing and, when it looked like it would fall, Boscha jumped clear, letting the tree collapse before her.

She sighed. “First test down.”

With a deep breath, she walked up to a nearby boulder, and without preamble, slammed her skull against it as hard as she could. As she reeled back in pain, she carefully started feeling the sight of impact, noting that nothing felt broken, and nothing was out of place.

“Second test down.”

Turning her gaze to a nearby stake set into the ground, she kicked it loose. As the stake popped free, the rope affixed to it slipped off, whipping away into the brush. A whistling sound built up behind her. Whirling, she reached out, snagging the spear before it could impale her. As she took a closer look at her handiwork, she revised her opinion. She had snagged it before it could strike her. The spear was blunt, literally just a piece of wood she crudely shaped together.

“Third test down.” She breathed out. “Now, just have to test that.”

With a trepidation that was painfully unfamiliar to the girl well-known for her brashness, she carefully traced out a circle in the air, glowing a painfully deep red. She held her breath, waiting to see. As the circle slowly started to glow, Boscha allowed a small grin to build on her face. Maybe, this time it wouldn’t…

The circle flickered. Boscha’s eyes widened. With an almost panicked shout, Boscha ran for cover, the spell detonating behind her. With a groan, Boscha slammed into the ground, a wave of heat passing overhead.

She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “And, once again, I failed.” Grumbling, she slowly stretched herself out, surveying the clearing she had recently made her new training grounds; secluded in the woods, within walking distance of Bonesburough, albeit one that meant putting in some time, and surrounded by trees and boulders to practice on. “Ugh!” She groaned, cracking her back. With a huff, she slung the pack she brought with her, complete with water and snacks to stay hydrated and energized, she got ready to leave. “Another day, another failure.” She bitterly remarked.

As she trudged along, Boscha’s ears picked up an all-too-familiar rumbling. She paled. Looking back in trepidation, her fears were validated; Boiling Rain Clouds were building overhead, and had already encircled Bonesburough.

“Dammit!” With a curse, Boscha took off running. She absolutely could not be caught in the rain. Her family had shown her pictures of those that had, and she certainly did not want that happening to her. As the sound of rain falling crept in closer, Boscha forced herself to move faster. Her legs burned. Her lungs screamed. “I can’t die here, not yet!”

With a growl, Boscha leapt through the trees, dodging the rain as best she could as the storm picked up speed. Suddenly, she slipped flying forward as she lost her footing. As she slammed into the ground, she caught sight of an odd-looking house situated behind a glowing barrier in the clearing ahead of her. She genuinely didn’t know if she could make it in time.

“I’m not giving up.” She muttered. With a force of effort, she hauled herself to her feet, taking off, only for a crash of thunder to draw her attention. Looking back, Boscha’s eyes widened in horror as the rain finally caught up to her in full, clouds encircling her. “NO!”

King was really enjoying the book Luz had gifted him, a worthy tribute to her ruler! While the book was pretty wordy, it had lots of cool illustrations on how to practice sound magic, specifically sound magic based on the user’s voice. While he wasn’t sure if he should attempt it quite yet, the knowledge locked away in this tome would become the stepping stone he needed to regain his power and glory!! King was interrupted from his musings by the frantic pounding at the front door. Who was crazy enough to be out in a Boiling Rainstorm?!?

He glanced around, hoping to find someone who could get the door. Luz had retreated into the other rooms, muttering something about a “teaching plan” or whatever. Eda was just groaning away on the couch. Realizing that no one else was gonna, and that Hooty was probably just chatting away with whoever it was, King, groaning all the while made his way to the door.

As he slammed the door open, cutting off Hooty’s chatter with a squawk of protest, King blinked up at the sight of the three-eyed girl who had humiliated him before.

The girl cleared her throat. “Well, this is awkward.”

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #king the owl house #eda clawthorne #luz noceda #boscha the owl house

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