#but its fucked like the way jinx intends it to be

[toshkakoshka]

the kiss

#my art #but its fucked like the way jinx intends it to be #jinx #ekko #arcane #league of legends #arcane jinx #arcane ekko #lol jinx #lol ekko #lmao

[yourlocalartsonist]

ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter Nine

HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT I'M ALIVE AND I AM SO SORRY! It's been way too long and I'm genuinely sorry this chapter took several fucking months to make but IT'S FINALLY DONE! It ended up way longer than I intended man, I THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA BE SHORT. It's my longest chapter yet fun fact. I don't even regret it really, it benefited so much from the extra effort. Hopefully the next few chapters won't take this long but I will refrain from jinxing myself again so🧍‍♀️Anyway enough blabbering, hope y'all enjoy this one ;w;

CREDIT To the MFIP Team: Thank you to @yosajaeofficial, @urlocalmj, misfortun3_ismyname (on TikTok), @chaoticspeedrun, @ramblehour and @goldanrabbit for being my lovely editors! MAN did they give this chapter a lot of polish-

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chapter One

Disclaimer: Chapter involves verbal abuse/manipulation, harassment, gaslighting, depressive thoughts, violence, blood, mentions of a wounded limb, brief mentions of nausea, displayed anxiety, and curse words. If you're sensitive to that, scroll past and stay safe!

I rushed around my room throwing shit on as fast as I could. Not fast enough apparently, since my phone’s vibrating like it’s gonna explode.

It’s late as hell right now, but Zane insisted on meeting up. Pretty randomly at, like, 11pm on a school night. I was initially planning to reject the idea or ghost with the excuse of sleeping, but it’s been a good while since I actually did hang out with him. I know insomnia’s gonna keep me up for a bit anyway, so why the hell not? We might even have fun! Just wish he’d stop flooding my notifs like I didn't already say I was actively getting ready.

I looked in the mirror, checking to see if I was presentable enough for the outside realm. My reflection’s the same as always; for better or worse. Still the same pink dress, same green skirt, same  boots. Can’t forget the gold earrings; the only emergency asset I held onto. I don’t know what I expected. I don’t have much to work with. Guess the gloves from Donnie are new, at least. But I’m still getting… bored? A change in appearance—even a small one—might be able to fill that hole for a while. Keep me distracted.

Maybe I could do something with my hair tonight? I still have Mi’s ribbon lying here somewhere.

I ignored Zane’s digital pestering and spent a few extra minutes shuffling through drawers and boxes, eventually finding her long, white ribbon—handmade from moth silk. She wore it all the time. I barely remember her hair being fully down unless she was sleeping or about to shower. Except for that one night, of course. The night she left and was never found again. She almost did take the ribbon with her. Had her hair done up in a bun and everything, even a little fancier than usual. But she took it off once she saw me behind her, barely reflected in the mirror. She crouched down, placed it in my tiny palms, and gave me her wonderfully warm smile. It’s the last thing she left me with. The last gift she could ever give me. 

After that, the ribbon’s survived years of storage and then more years of… unconventional bullshit use. I know moth silk ain’t the weakest thing on Earth but I’ve deadass used this ribbon as a make-shift pulley system to sneak stuff into my room through the window before, some of which weighed more than me! Its got the endurance of a Nokia at this point. 

I’ve barely used the ribbon for its intended purpose, though. I mean, how could I? I’m not my mom no matter how similar we look. Maybe this is a me-thing, but I always felt wearing the ribbon would be like replacing her with myself. 

Although, I’m sure Mi would’ve loved it if I wore it. 

Using the ribbon, I tied my hair into a ponytail and styled it as a loose bow, just to see how it would look. The white tails gently draped over my back down to my hips. I never quite realized how long the ribbon was before now. I don’t look as fancy or pretty as mom did, but it’s the best I’ve got. It… it doesn’t look bad, though, I think. It actually looks kinda nice! Maybe I’ll use it a bit more often. 

My phone’s repeated buzzing snapped me out from my trance. “Alright, alright, shut up already.” I groaned. Zane’s growing impatient.

You: hey sorry I jsut finished getting ready

You: heading out the door now! :3 

Fuck doors. Sneaking out became a whole lot easier ever since I did it from my window, but he doesn’t have to know that. I can already imagine him scolding me about the dangers of dropping down from high places, even with the fire escape there. He wouldn’t be wrong, per se, but at this point I’ve handled worse. Would probably send him into cardiac arrest if he knew what I’d actually been up to these few months.

I sprinted to the spot we agreed to meet up at. Zane was already there, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed in his pockets like always. 

“Salena! Hey!” He lit up like a star when he saw me, beckoning me over.

God, for a sour person, he has such a sweet smile. He’s usually so good at being intimidating and frightening. Yet the second he brings out his smile, all that built-up fear washes away like it was never there to begin with. 

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Well, I figured I could use some fresh air.” I tilted my head to the side, eyeing his fit. “You left your sweater at home?”

“Hm?” He followed my gaze to his pitch black tank top in place of the usual outfit. “Oh, right! Yeah, the weather’s too hot for a sweater tonight. Forgot I changed it, really.”

Now that I’m looking closer, his choker’s missing too. It probably didn’t match with the top. Seems like it got swapped with a black watch on his left wrist that complimented the look way more. Doesn’t matter what he pretends to be though, I know Zane pays very close attention to his appearance. He’s gotta maintain the rep of our grade’s “Pretty Boy” after all. When it comes to him, every little detail matters.

Wait a sec…

“What happened to your arm?”

I couldn’t see ‘till he turned towards me but his left arm had a deep bluish-purple bruise spread across it. It looked like it was from something long like a pipe or a bat. Either way, it was gnarly enough to worry me. 

“Oh that. It’s nothing too bad.” He shrugged.

“You kiddin’ me? It looks awful! What happened?” I carefully grabbed his arm and took a closer look at the mark. I wish Leo was here, but thankfully I’ve picked up a little medic knowledge from him so I can at least tell if a bone is broken or not.

“Hey, don’t get your feathers all fluffed! I got a little hurt rough-housing with the guys, that’s all. You know how they are.”

“Rough-housing? Or a secret murder attempt?” I was only being half sarcastic. It wouldn’t be out of character for them.

“Don’t worry! It’s really sweet of you to care, but they’d never dare hurt me on purpose! Now, on another note…“ He paused for a moment, taking a proper look at me. For a little bit, I couldn’t tell why he smirked. “Looks like someone wanted to look cute tonight, ey? You wore your hair up.”

“Huh?” I touched my hair, forgetting I changed it earlier. “Oh, um, yeah! I-I did! I thought I’d give it a try. Does it… um, you know, look too bad or weird or?…”

“No! No, it… it looks really pretty.” Oh god, that’s a relief to hear! I was so paranoid it wouldn’t suit— “I gotta ask, though.”

I caught him inching closer. I tried creating space, but quickly realized I was up against the wall again. Should’ve been more careful about that. His hand reached out, bringing back all sorts of cringe-inducing memories. He didn’t technically pin me like last time, but he tucked my bangs back behind my ear. Feeling his fingers come into contact with my skin almost feels just as nauseating, though. 

“How’d you know I had a thing for girls in ponytails?”

And fuck, he made it weird again.

“Z-Zane?”

“Yeah?…” WHY ISN’T HE GETTING THE HINT!? “You know, you always look so soft when you dress up. You just bloom.”

“…So! What are we doing tonight?” 

His smile slightly dropped, likely upset I ruined whatever moment he was trying to have. Honestly, didn’t matter to me, as shitty as that sounds. I just wanted to change the topic so he’d step back a bit. We go through this every time; this stupid ass, awkward aura. I wish it would stop happening. 

On the bright side, he did step back and redirect his focus to answering my question. On the not so bright side, his answer was a pathetic shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“Y-you… What do you mean you don’t know? I snuck out here in the middle of the night, you told me it’d be something special! You’ve gotta have something planned.”

“Honest, I don’t! I thought it was beautiful outside and it reminded me of you. Wanted to see where such a lovely night could take us. I think that’s special enough, don’t you?”

“W-Well, I mean—“

He chuckled “What’s wrong? You’re not backing out now, are you?” 

I may have praised his smile earlier, but right now it’s making my eye twitch. I’m a little peeved knowing he brought me out here for shits and giggles when I could’ve at least been resting in bed, replenishing some of my energy. I know I don’t have the best sleeping habits, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get tired from the constant action going on! I don’t even know how long he’s gonna keep me hostage for! But… he’s also right that it’d be kinda shitty to bail now. Besides, I’m already out here so…

I guess all that’s left to do is suck it up and try to make the best of it. 

“Well, do you wanna… go for a walk or something?”

“Sounds perfect to me! Come on, hold my hand, Dove.”

For someone who supposedly didn’t have a plan, he sure took an awful lot of charge during that walk. He suggested we go to Central Park and practically dragged me there despite my common sense screaming to never go to that hellspawn at night. Although, I can’t complain too much. The park’s definitely the best place to see the stars, and tonight had clear skies! He made sure to keep a tight grip on me in case we ran into any classic New York weirdos anyway, so I should probably be less tense. I guess I got used to the guaranteed safety of having literal ninjas around me, I forgot what it was like hanging out with a regular person. 

On top of that, Zane seemed really happy! Happier than I’ve seen him in a while, actually. He was giddily pointing out any interesting greenery we saw and rambling random facts he knew about them. 

Even later, when we went and dined inside a relatively fancy restaurant, all he could focus on was the different plants they chose as decor. He’s such a huge nature geek, but he’d never let anyone know. Zane’s the type of guy to get 100% on a biology test and shamefully shove it in his backpack to avoid being labeled as a nerd. Being a nerd myself, I think it’s pretty cool, so I never understood it. But either way, I’m glad he feels safe around me. I’m glad he doesn’t hide around me.

I forgot about this side of him, I really did. The side that is my friend.

We were walking back to my place, taking in the bliss of the quiet night. Even if a part of me prefers the busier, noisy parts of the city, it’s really soothing to experience the calmer sides of it too. Everything about tonight feels nearly perfect. I’m surprised nothing ruined it. I’m debating if I could ruin it…

I really want to talk to him. I wanna bring up those photos, get some answers, put my strange emotions to rest once and for all. I wanna hear it from him that neither of them meant to hurt me. That this was just my mind screwing me over again. I need to know. I really need to know. 

You know, friends are supposed to lend a shoulder when you need it.

I don’t want to ruin the night. But friendship takes risks sometimes. That’s what shows its strength, right?

I take a deep breath and go for the leap of faith.

“So, I was wondering—” “Salena, I wanted to ask—” 

I really gotta work on my timing for these things.

“S-Sorry! You go first.”

He shook his head with a delicate smile. “Nah, it’s okay. You can go.”

“Are you sure? I-I mean it’s kinda complicated…”

“Yeah, I’m sure! I always love hearing you talk, anyway.” 

“O-okay then, well…” My hands balled up into determined fists and I looked him right in the eyes. I have to put an end to this or I’ll never be able to move on. “I’ll be real, it might be a weird question.But you’re my friend and I really trust you a lot. I… I have to know this, so please don’t get mad.”

“Yeah…?” Why did he have to lean in closer…

I came this far, I’m not letting my tongue shut me up again. 

“What’s going on with you and Jaiden?”

Immediately his demeanor changed. His posture slouched, the disappointment clear as day on his face. “Jaiden? You’re—you’re really thinking about… about them, now?” 

“Yes, b-but I want to stop! That’s why I need to ask you this, so please bear with me, Zane.”

He leaned back with a hand on his hip, the other covering his face as he exhaled. “And here I was getting my hopes up for nothing.”

He would never think that I heard him; Zane’s a good whisperer. Unfortunately, my hearing rivals it.

He looked at me again; his eyes didn’t feel the same. “Okay, fine. What is it?”

I felt my stomach twist into itself. My chest began to ache. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was about to hurl.

It’s okay. Friends get a little upset at each other all the time. Doesn’t mean they’ll break apart. Don’t be a coward, Salena. 

I told him about everything. The canceled plans, Jaiden’s distant behavior, the increase in their pics together on his Instagram. I vented about how frustrated I felt with seeing them spend so much time together and then completely ignore me. And then vented some more about how frustrated I felt from that frustration, how I knew it was wrong yet couldn’t help it seeping into my everyday life! I let out a lot of steam tonight, even things I didn’t plan on telling him. The only things I left out, honestly, were anything related to the turtles to hide their identity. And to avoid any irrelevant questions.

He seemed strangely chipper hearing all of this, a curiously amused smirk plastered on his face. Not the reaction I expected, but I guess it’s better than him flipping out like I thought he would. 

“So, if I’m getting this right, you see me and Jaiden hanging out more often and it actually bothers you?”

“I don’t want it to but yeah, it bothers me a whole fucking lot. It’s taken over my life and I hate it! I hate being jealous! It’s so—“ 

“You’re jealous!? You’re jealous! Oh man, I can’t believe I am living in the same timeline where the Salena Moni is experiencing jealousy like every. Average. Lowlife. Person!” 

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and rub it in, why dontcha? That helps me so much.” I pouted.

He laughed, enjoying my misery. “I know, I’m sorry. Just, damn! Somewhere, pigs are flying aren’t they?” If Meat Sweats could fly, I’d be his murderous Cupid.

“Har har. I get it though. I mean, you know me! I’ve felt envious before, but jealous? How does anyone even deal with this…?” I held myself a little tighter.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Dove. It happens! Everyone gets a little jealous. It’s a normal thing to go through, Salena.”

“Yeah, I sure did want a normal life, so I guess I got what I wished for.” I can’t help feeling salty over all this. 

He only laughed and patted my hair, fluffing up the ponytail a little. 

“Hey, Zane? For the sake of my psyche, you sure I’m not a bad person for this?”

A tender sigh rang through my ears. “I’m sure. You could never be a bad person, Salena.” 

…I never realized a husky voice like his could feel so honeyed.

But he’s right. I’m not a bad person, I’m just human. If both him and Raph said the same thing, it’s more likely to be true.

“And for the record, Jaiden and I are just friends right now. There’s nothing going on between us, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Uh… Cool? I… might be a little lost here. Why are you telling me that?”

“Reassurance, obviously.”

I blinked, not really getting it or knowing how to respond. He thought for a moment, then had a face of realization while he giggled.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you’re actually that innocent! You’re so cute, I swear!” He booped my nose and leaned in again with a huge smile. He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “You’re jealous because you have a crush.” 

A crush?

“But why would I have a crush on Jaiden?” 

“I’m just saying—Wait, rewind. A crush on Jaiden?” He physically paused for a bit before awkwardly laughing. “No, sweetie, you don’t get jealous of your crush, you get jealous of the people they’re with!”

“That’s why I’m asking. Why would I have a crush on Jaiden?”

…Why does the air feel colder all of a sudden? 

The night was warm just a minute ago, but now it’s dead like the core of winter. His smile is long gone. His eyes, they’re slicing me in half. Is my breathing a little faster? He’s coming closer. I’m suddenly aware of just how alone we really are here in this silent little street. 

“To be clear. Who are you jealous of.”

My throat clogged up. I blinked and lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears being fought back. I forgot this side of him, too. The side that made my heart close in on itself.

“Salena, don’t make me ask twice.”

“Of you.” I managed to let out. “J-jealous of you.”

He wouldn’t speak for a while. Only felt him staring me down like a predator stalking its prey, making me swallow to keep my throat from drying up. My hands felt so clammy, begging me to wipe them on my skirt. But I didn’t dare move. I couldn’t even look at him right now.

“Of fucking course you are.”

I knew it was coming, but I still flinched when he cursed with no shame, tugging his hair and punching the wall next to me. It’s stupid, isn’t it? I can handle giant mutants and a literal cult of evil, but Zane’s temper was not something to be messed with, and my unlucky ass did exactly that.

“Why did I ever expect anything different! Of course it’s me you’re jealous of! Why the fuck would you phrase it like that if you meant something else, god dammit!”

You’re gonna bleed if you keep doing that…

“Z-Zane, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t think it’d come off as me being jealous of Jaiden—“

“OBVIOUSLY, IT FUCKING WOULD!!!” He grabbed my shoulders, bringing me closer to him. I don’t know if it’d be an exaggeration to say I nearly got a panic attack from the action alone. 

“When you say things like how you’re jealous of how much time Jaiden and I spend together, of course I think you’re jealous of them, not me! Why would I ever assume it was me! That never happens with anyone else! God, you’re such a fucking moron sometimes, I swear!” 

“I'm sorry… P-please stop…”

“After everything we’ve fucking been through, everything I did for you! All you can ever do is somehow relate me back to Jaiden! There’s always someone else! I mean nothing to you, Salena! Don’t I!? I! Mean! Nothing!”

“I-I didn’t mean to, I promise—”

“THAT DOESN’T MATTER, IDIOT!”

He let go and pushed me back. Sometimes I overlook how much bigger Zane is compared to me. This is not one of those times. 

“You know what? You know what’s funny, Salena? That night you’re so fucking fixated on, the one that’s consumed your ability to even think like a normal person? Yeah, I’ve got some news about that night.” 

I just want to disappear…

“I asked Jaiden to go with me to that shitty party on purpose!”

…

What?

“I asked them on purpose, I posted those pictures on purpose! I did everything ‘cause I knew you’d see it! I thought maybe then, for once, you’d finally, finally feel a single ounce of longing for me! That was all I wanted!”

What.

“…You better be lying, Zane.”

“I’m not. And you deserve this.”

I glared at him the entire time while he was too focused on his own bullshit words to even notice. My arms burned with the sensation of my nails digging deeper and deeper. I hope they'll draw blood.

“You don’t understand, Salena! You keep saying all these… all these stupid fucking things that no one else says to me! Do you know what it does to me? If I had my way, I’d hold you forever and never let you go. No one’s shown me kindness like you.”  I was so numb I couldn’t even react to him caressing my cheek. Only kept glaring. 

“But then you barely ever give me the time of day! You’re barely ever with me! Fuck, honestly, you’re never with me anymore! I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not like you to say one thing and do another! You’re not that type of two-faced asshole! So why are you fucking acting like one!? Ever since that day you went to ‘hang out’ with that stupid drugged-out bitch you called a friend, you’ve never been the fucking same! With the way you act, I wouldn’t be fucking surprised if you got addicted and stay on the high 24/7!”

He’s… Is he talking about Mikey? That’s what this is about? Is he fucking serious right now.

“Who are you!? Where is my Salena?” 

“Did you know Jaiden and I had plans that day?”

“No, I didn’t. I’m not stupid, I wasn’t gonna go that far. I wanted you to get a taste of what it felt to not be chosen, that’s it! Obviously, it was dumb to think it would work!” The dumb bitch sighed, exasperated. As if he had any right to be. “Seems you don’t have room for me in that big heart of yours after all, huh? Maybe I’m a dick for saying this, but it’s honestly karma that I happened to choose the one day you two were gonna hang out. That’s gotta be a sign, Salena.”

You never get the fucking hint, do you Zane Evans?

“I need to go.”

I couldn’t even get two steps in before he gripped my wrist to stop me.

“Wait, what do you mean go? Go where?”

“I meant exactly what I said! I’ve had enough. Now let go of me.”

I yanked my arm back and stormed off, Zane following close behind. At least, judging from the sound he was. I didn’t bother looking back. 

“Hey! Your place is in the opposite direction!”

“Stop following me, I can go wherever I want!”

“Salena, seriously!? It’s already late, you’re gonna get lost! Come on, are you really that pissed off—”

“YES!!!”

I turned my heel and faced him.

“How are you even unsure of that!? You got upset I hung out with someone else for one day—a person I made plans with in advance, might I add—and you decided to take revenge on me!? Do you have any clue how fucked up that is!?”

“I got a little mad! So what? You’ve known me for two years! Stop overreacting about a harmless dig!”

“Harmless!? You have no idea what I’ve gone through this past month because of your little ‘harmless’ stunt! I’ve suffered so much because of you! I can’t even sleep because of you! God, sometimes you’re so—Ugh!”

I began counting down from ten to one, just like Raph taught. I shouldn’t say something I’ll regret later. Honestly, I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

He looked like a sad puppy. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting this. But somehow, my sympathy won’t halt my anger tonight.

“Salena, I… Look, I didn’t know you’d be so sensitive over this—“

“Zane, I really need to leave. I’m sorry I exploded like that, but it’s gonna happen again if I stay here any longer. So please, just stop following me. Hurting you would add more shit to my plate and I really don’t need that right now, okay?” 

“N-no! Stay! I can make it up to you!”

“Another day, any day, but not now! Not now.”

I walked away and this time he didn’t follow. 

“…Fine.”

I heard his footsteps stomp in the other direction, slowly fading away.

My own legs went faster till the wind consumed me. 

The anger returned almost instantly after I knew he left. I’m happy I kept my cool during the end back there but holy fucking shit! What was he thinking!? I wanted answers tonight but I didn’t expect this! I thought I was overthinking again! I thought my brain made up the possibility that they ditched me intentionally! But no, turns out it wasn’t just Jaiden but Zane, too! What the fuck did I do to them? What did he mean I “deserved it”!? 

I don’t get it, what is he expecting me to do? I know he… feels a certain way about me. But even then! I can’t just shit romantic feelings for him out my ass! 

Ugh, so fucking stupid. I’m gonna lose my head if I keep thinking about this.

I wandered around the city some more and got back to the main road where a good handful of cars were passing again. It’s past 1am now and I’ve gotta get ready for school in less than five hours. But I know damn well I won’t sleep, not after this. I don’t wanna go home. Take me anywhere but home. I don’t feel like facing any of this right now, I…

I want somewhere I can feel safe for a while, just so the day won’t end on such a horrible note.

I pulled out my phone and opened the contacts. I wish I was one of those folks who didn’t have to think of someone before they dialed but alas, here I am. 

I can’t talk to Jaiden. 

I obviously can’t talk to Zane.

I don’t know if I can tell Casey any of this yet.

I’d love to talk to April but she’s probably asleep by now. But… but the guys might not be! They’re usually up at these sort of freakish hours of the night. I could try giving the group chat a call and hope for the best. I feel bad for bothering them so often but who else do I have right now?

It took three rings before the line went through.

“You are conversing with Donatell—Why is your screen so dark?” 

Oh fucking lovely.

“H-hey, Donnie. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was a video call.”

As my luck would have it, Donnie was the one to pick up. No offense to him; he never did anything wrong. I’m just not entirely sure how he feels about me yet. So, having him answer when I’m already high on nerves isn’t what I pictured hoping for the best would result in. But he’s much, much better than being alone right now.

“Uh, what… Whatcha up to?”

“Oh, simply being my usual genius self to aid with our nightly hero duties! Sure, no regular teenager could detect a break-in on sensitive confidential info before the actual government could, but I, Othello Von Ryan, have proven to be no regular teen!” 

“Yep, definitely the usual for you.” 

Donnie’s def no less than Leo when it comes to being allergic to humility. Though, they both earned their egos. Donnie’s not wrong; not just any person could be nearly as smart as him.

“So, did you need anything fixed? You’re calling at a rather unusual hour for a school night.” 

“Oh, no, not really. I mean, I was kinda out with a friend, but things… ended abruptly. I don’t really feel like sleeping right now. I wanted some company?” 

He opened his mouth to respond but got interrupted by a familiar accent asking who was on the phone. The instant my name left his voice, three others repeated it with joy. My screen suddenly overflowed with four green goofballs all trying to fit in the camera’s scope at once.

“SALENA! How are you? How come you’re not asleep? Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Mikey, it’s Salena, it’s way too early for them to sleep.”

“Wow, Leo, anyone ever tell you how funny you are?” My words didn’t match my tone. I wonder why.

“Leo, let ‘er breathe!” The camera shook as a red bandana came into frame. “Hey, but for real. Why you up so late, Salena? Somethin’ up?”

“Nah, just couldn’t sleep! I thought I’d call you guys for a bit, but from the sounds of it, y’all seem kinda busy.” 

The camera moved again as the device got transferred to the next turtle. “Give me my—Ugh, there we go. And yes, you’re correct. We are actually busy with a mission tonight.” 

I tried keeping my smile intact as I understandingly nodded my head. Is he mad at me for assuming they were free the exact moment I needed them to be? I mean, I’d be mad at me, so it’d make sense.

“Hey, but you know what?” Leo leaned next to Donnie, trying to see the screen. “You should totally join us! Tag along, have some fun, we’d all love that!”

You would?

“What? Nardo, what are you—“

“OMIGOSH, YEAH!” Mikey jumped in, knocking Donnie out of frame entirely. “If you’re not gonna sleep, we should totally hang out! I really miss you, Salena!” 

“Uh, am I really the only one thinking it would be a bad idea to let the person who barely leaves their house join us on a mission to a highly-secured and regulated government facility?”

“Chillax, Don, she’ll be fine! You’ll be fine, right Salena?”

“I mean, uh—” 

“See? What’d I tell ya, totally fine!” 

“Raph agrees! Salena can handle herself.” 

“Oh sure, I’m absolutely positive nothing could go wrong! He said without a trace of doubt.”

…I can’t tell if he’s trying to protect me or just doesn’t want me there. Neither option feels good right now, to be honest.

“C’mon, Dee, we’ve all seen her fight before! Including you, remember? When they helped us stop Meat Sweats?”

 Mikey’s got a point. That was before I had any real battle experience, too! I don’t know why Donnie seems so hesitant about this. Or why it’s making me so pissy, actually.

Another car passed by and I lowered the volume a bit, remembering the time. Now that I’m actually near some apartments, I don’t wanna accidentally wake someone up. I really gotta save up for some new earbuds; my last ones broke like, a month ago and I can only make do for so long.

“Three to one, hermano. You’re outnumbered.”

“But—Sigh, forget it! Salena, I—“

“‘NOUGH SMALL TALK!” At this point, they’re just playing hot potato with Donnie’s phone. “Salena, hurry up! We’re boutta start the mission so don’t want ya missin’ out!”

“Ha! Almost made a pun!”

“Shut up, Leo. Anyways, we’re at uh… Uh… Hey, Donnie, where we at?” 

I could hear him struggling for his phone in the distance. “You could just send our coordinates!”

“I could send her our coordinates! …How does Raph do that, again?”

The audio muffled as the phone shuffled back to its rightful owner. “God, I’m so gonna install security on this thing. Anyway, I’m sending our location to you right now. And as I was GOING TO SAY BEFORE! Salena, I look forward to seeing you again.”

He flashed a smile and part of my worries vanished. I’m still not sure how to read him but if he’s being nice, it can’t be all bad, right?

“OH, AND IF YA CAN, COULD YOU BRING ME A SNACK—“ Donnie hung up before the teddy bear could finish.

Luckily for him, his face beamed when I finally arrived around twenty minutes later and did, in fact, bring him a snack. 

“Hey guys! Hope I didn’t take—“

I couldn’t even finish speaking before finding myself laughing on the floor with four giant turtles hounding me in hugs. 

“It has been way too long since we’ve hugged!” Poor Mikey, I haven’t been able to see him in a hot minute. “Nice ponytail, by the way. Really makes your eyes pop.”

“Aww, thanks! I missed you guys too. Ugh, I really wish scheduling was easier! I’d hang out more often.” 

“Dude, why waste time on schedules when you could just come over?”

“‘Xactly! Ain’t like you’re not welcome!”

“Oh. I-I mean, sure! If you guys really don’t have a problem with it…” I wonder if this is what it’s like to feel wanted.

“I just wanted you to get a taste of what it felt to not be chosen!”

…T-then again, they’re probably just being polite.

Click!

“And fits perfectly, just as the estimations foretold!” The fuck? 

I looked down and saw a shiny black belt matching the arm wraps now resting above my hips. It’s actually fairly loose around my waist but I’m guessing that was the intention. There’s a giant pink button on the left with the same M-shaped logo as all of theirs. It looked super cool, honestly! Even seemed to match with my outfit!

“Woaaah, what is this thing?”

“Donnie. Really?” Leo didn’t sound impressed and neither did the others but, like, who cares! The belt’s dope as hell!

He ignored them and continued addressing me. “It basically functions both as your very own panic button and is a carrier for your sickles thanks to a highly specific magnetic attraction! Plus, it obviously helps tie in your outfit better ‘cause Great Galileo did you need some accessories.”

“Damn, I didn’t know my sickles were magnetic!”

“Oh, they weren’t before, I installed magnets in them last night.” With that, he pulled my fucking weapons seemingly out of his ass. Judging by everyone else’s groans though, I’m the only one who’s surprised and confused.

“Donald! What did we say about breaking into strangers’ homes!” 

“Hey, I didn’t break in!… to a stranger’s home! I broke into Salena’s, Salena is not a stranger—OW, HEY!” Raph slapped the back of his head. One quick yet dramatic recovery later, we all began our route of sneaking into the building. 

Security wasn’t monitoring the higher floors, so we only had to ninja our way up ‘till there and the rest was easy peasy. I tried focusing on the quick briefing I was receiving on the way up but my mind was admittedly elsewhere. Back to the weird situation I thought I dreamt up last night.

I don’t remember much. I was too tired to really register anything, and Donnie being a ninja probably enhanced that. But I do remember still hearing faint footsteps in my room; drawers being opened, the closet getting browsed. I was so out of it I figured I probably hallucinated everything. Either way, I was way too paralyzed to do anything; I couldn’t even put my phone back earlier. Kept passing in and out of consciousness. But it seemed like someone put it back for me. They helped my sloppy body into a position that wouldn’t leave me aching the next morning and pulled the covers up to tuck me in. What really sealed the whole dream theory to me was the metallic-textured “hand” that patted my head before they left and let the world return to tranquility.

I seriously did figure it was all a weird fever dream or some shit. Personally, I still feel like that’s more believable than it being Donnie all along. But staring down at my sickles, I guess I can’t really argue against the proof right in front of me. 

“Gentlemen, here we are! The Techno Cosmic Research Institute! Otherwise known as”—the door opened as I returned back to present time—“The TCRI.”

The moon illuminated the flat, revealing that we were in a main lobby of some sorts. Huge and spacious, decorated with different plants I’m sure Zane would’ve gone crazy over. 

…I shouldn’t think about him right now.

It was a huge and spacious lobby full of plants. The windows that were tinted from the outside now presented a full view of the city skyline. Doors were carved into the walls, transitioning to the other rooms. Some, like the several meeting rooms, were made with glass so I could vaguely make out the interior from here. Others were blocked by heavy, solid, metal doors, holding whatever secrets the government had behind them.

I felt strange setting foot in this place, like I wasn’t supposed to be here. Well, I guess we are breaking and entering, but it’s not that. It’s something else, something I can’t quite explain. Unrelated to the guys but personal to me. I feel I’m not wanted for a reason I’m not yet aware of. It’s freaking me out a little. 

“So, what do the Purple Dragons want with this place again?”

“Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. I only caught a break-in to the system in general and tracked it back to Kendra, I don’t have info on what they’re trying to gain access to. Whatever it is, though, it has an impressively tight security system that’s nearly impossible to break! At least, not through their simple B-tier remote hacking.”

“If the Purple Dragons want it, then it’s gotta be something major.” I’ve known about them for a while thanks to April. 

It kinda shocked me at first, not because a group of teens created a tech-smart gang but because April O’Neil was a loser to someone. Call me a little biased—and you’d be right—but I still think Kendra’s got rocks for brains if she ignores someone like April. 

But that’s a mental essay for another day. Right now, Leo’s smirking. And if Leo’s smirking, things will either go amazingly well or horrifically wrong. 

“So… If we’re already here, why don’t we just figure out what they want ourselves?”

Mikey propped his chin up on Leo’s shoulder. “You mean like, go and explore? Sounds rad to me!”

“Yeah! Sneak around, let Donnie do his nerdy smart people stuff and see what’s so great about this place, yeah?” 

“Invade the privacy of our nation’s government and scavenge for confidential data!? Nardo, I love you!”

“Raph? Your call, buddy.”

He was shockingly quick to shrug. “Sure! Raph don’t see a problem with it. Sounds hella fun to me!”

“Uh, guys?” I raised my hand. “Isn’t this, like, highly illegal?” 

“And?” They all said in unison. To be fair, legal doesn’t sound like them anyway. 

“What are they gonna do? Arrest us?” His hand circled in front of his blue bandana.

“And don’t worry, you won’t get in trouble for anything that happens! Donnie can get rid of the evidence and no one will know you were here, right Dee?” Mikey shot a wink at Donnie.

“Affirmative!” 

Dang, Mikey’s made a lot of good points tonight. 

“Eh, you’re right. To hell with laws!” Passing up an opportunity to explore a space institution would be laughably unlike me, anyway! 

We decided to split up and meet back at the main lobby in fifteen, assuming the Purple Dragons hadn't arrived by then. It’s kind of scary wandering on my own in this place. It still feels off to me, but at the same time, I’ve always wanted so desperately to walk through a facility like this. Fascinating space research, meeting after meeting to discuss whatever new breakthrough was made, access to a shit ton of databases and technologies I’ll never have the chance to use at home!? Everything about this place is perfect! It’s all I dreamed it to be. 

So why won’t that damn feeling go away?

Whatever, it’s probably just tonight in general. I really, really, need to get over it and move on already or else I’m guaranteed to fuck up the whole mission.

I sighed and glanced down at my arm wraps, raising them to get a better look. Despite my flip-floppy mood, I couldn’t help but smile. It’s dorky but they do comfort me every now and then. They felt nice to wear and even looking at them made me all fuzzy and nostalgic. They feel like an older me even though I got them recently. 

“I take it you liked them, then.” 

His voice startled me, I thought everyone went their own ways but I guess Donnie was nearby. 

“Yeah, I do! The belt, too, they’re really cool gifts! Thank you.” He lit up when he heard those magic words. Man, I can’t believe I forgot to thank him sooner. Poor guy was probably aching for some feedback.

“I-I actually always wondered how you made them. They feel really sturdy but like, it’s not heavy to wear, either, if that makes sense.”

“Oh yeah, totally!” He typed on the screen on his arm, booting up the scanning feature to make sure we didn’t miss anything. “It’s an intentional design choice. They are supposed to act as armor, so.”

“Woah, cool! Do they count as tactical gear? As in military grade and all that jazz?”

“What? No, that’s not even good quality, that’s just a buzzword. Military grade simply means they met the minimum stated requirements at the lowest unit price.”

“…”

“…Low budget, few money, lead to mid product, good enough for gullible minds and general public consumption.” 

Ohhhh. “So they lied.”

“As per usual. It’s shit engineering in actuality.”

I pushed open one of the meeting rooms’ glass doors as Donnie’s shell held up a bright torch. We began scouting the area for anything interesting while continuing our talk. All this investigative work’s reminding me of April and the way she’d gush about doing the same. Completely understanding the appeal now; it feels so thrilling snooping around somewhere you’re not supposed to be! Especially when the law’s involved.

The room wasn’t anything unordinary. It looked like any other corporate meeting room. The long table leading to the small TV on the wall, decorative paintings and plants, the usual. Man, we probably should’ve gone into a more interesting—“OW!”

“…Watch your step.” He said after I already fell to my knees.

“Thanks for the very useful warning. What even was that?”

He shined the light closer to a… metal? No, definitely not entirely metal. A robot arm sloppily plopped on the floor. We couldn’t see what the arm was attached to, if it was attached to anything at all. It’s too long to trace back with the torch light from where we are. One thing’s for sure, though: It’s giant. The claw I tripped over is practically the same size as my head. 

“Hmm…” He crouched closer to the arm, slowly inspecting it. “Weird. It looks like it’s made of some cheap plastic. Perhaps a prototype of some sorts.”

“I don’t think they’d make it this big if it was a prototype.” Maybe we could do a test to see what type of plastic it is. “You got any fire?”

“While I see your angle and would love to carry through that experiment, it’s probably not wise to burn something we don’t know the purpose of. Or, you know, alert the security of our presence from the alarms.”

“Yeah, fair…” Man, would’ve been hella fun, though. 

We both stayed on the floor, a little stumped on what the hell this thing was. My eyes got bored after a while and wandered around the room again. The only interesting thing in here was this weird ass plastic arm, it’s pretty much useless looking around the room but it did keep me entertained. There were five plants in this room which explains the fresh smell, all of them were basic enough for me to recognize. Two zebra plants, a ponytail palm, and…

I ignored the plant on the table when I spotted something thin underneath it, hidden by the shadows. I think it’s a slip of paper?

Donnie’s sigh brought my attention back. “You know what, I’m gonna go to their computer lab to see if one of their databases has anything about this thing.”

“Aight, I’ll stay back and keep exploring. Good luck!”

Right as he left, I sped over to the mysterious paper, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. The table was tall enough for me to comfortably sit under, leaning over the paper on the floor to read it. It’s, coincidentally enough, about that puzzling arm. The incomplete text made it clear it was probably part of a stack of paper or a file and fell out. Sadly, it didn’t reveal much but what I could get out of it was that it’s an automated arm controlled by an AI system, mostly covered with polypropylene plastic. Heh, PP plastic. Oh, it was created for the purpose of security. Well that’s just fantastic. I should go warn the boys about it.

I quickly snapped a pic of the loose sheet, almost getting out from under the table.

…But I’m glad as hell I didn’t.

I heard it. A soft, mechanical hum as something slithered off the ground. I grabbed my sickles from their belt, trying to minimize my shaking. It took a few blinks and tries but I managed to turn invisible, watching the machine move through the darkness. How was it suddenly on?

Its movements were smooth and natural. Too natural for something meant to be robotic. It’s so eerily graceful, slithering through the air. The arm swiveled its claw around like an animal head checking its surroundings. It… It’s looking where I am. It’s looking at me. It shouldn’t be able to see me, I’m not supposed to be visible! But it won’t stop staring.

”FUCK!” I shrieked when it lunged at me, quickly slicing it before it could grab me. Thank god it’s just plastic… Why the fuck is it hollow? 

That doesn’t make any sense! Shouldn’t there be wiring or something? Even if not to connect the AI, how the hell can it move like that without anything to mimic muscle!? 

I gasped, turning my head to the side. I can hear something else. It’s gooey and mushy and… 

It’s looping around the room.

It’s getting louder.

”W-what the hell?”

…I think I can see it now. Something solid but stretchy, resembling thick vines climbing up the plastic arm. I backed up, watching as it crawled over to the newly severed claw. It pulled the claw back to its other half and tightened around them. It glowed? A sickeningly blinding green color. Before I realized what was going on, the claw suddenly reattached as the vines slinked back into the darkness. 

It saw me again and the chase resumed. 

It’s so damn fast, I can barely outrun it! Dodging is saving my ass but it keeps knocking over any furniture I used against it! 

I jumped when I heard Donnie from the comms. Wait, he installed comms on my arm wraps? 

“What’s making all that racket? Everything okay over there?”

”You can hear that!?”

”Yeah, I’m literally right next door?”

”Well—SHIT!” Too fucking close, too fucking close! It almost fucking grabbed me! Fuck, my knees hurt from that! “SON OF A—Don’t worry, I can handle it! I’ll explain soon!”

I tried getting off the floor as quickly as possible but the claw pulled me back down. The four sharp grippers opened up like a mouth and a fucking chainsaw came out. It went straight for my head, life flashing before my eyes as my sickles blocked it by pure reflex, holding it back. It won’t back off! I can’t keep pushing forever! How the hell do I get out of this!?

“FIBONACCI!” 

A spinning titanium blur whacked the arm back, grabbing its attention to the maniacally smiling turtle now dashing through the room. His arm reached out, grabbing his staff from mid-air, and chopped off the robot arm with a giant drill. I curled in on myself right before a bright, violet shield spread over me and kept the arm’s falling metal parts from landing on me.

“You know, that did not seem like ‘handling it’.” 

My vision cleared to his hand offering to help me up. I’m suddenly getting deja vu from the other countless times my helpless damsel-wannabe ass needed a rescue. Panicked and guilt-ridden, I waved it off and got up on my own. 

“We gotta get outta here right now!”

“What? Why? I already—”

The vines returned and began repeating their process of fixing the arm. Though this time, it seems to be going faster.

“Oh my banana pancakes! What is that!?”

“I don’t know but that’s why we’re leaving! Come on!”

I grabbed his hand and we ran out the room, running into the others in the main lobby.

”Leo! There’s—”

“Crazy killer robot arms, we know. Was just in the middle of talking about that, actually.” He gave a glance of disapproval to the pouting red giant next to Mikey. Who also looks hella annoyed. It would appear we’ve walked in on a teensy squabble. 

I heard Donnie sigh beside me “Raph, please tell me you didn’t.” He left my clueless ass standing there to join in on their talk.

Wait—Oh god, not again!

Turning around, I grabbed my sickles. I heard it again. Managed to dodge just in time for its jab to my right. It seems the guys are too busy to notice and I really don’t wanna burden them again. I’ll solo this one!

“When I said we should go explore, I didn’t mean go ‘round pushing things! We’re in a government building, why would you touch anything!?”

I heard another hit coming and blocked it with the blade. 

Yeah, I-I can totally take this! I should let them finish their conversation—Holy fuck, there’s more than one, fucking end my suffering already. 

”I didn’t mean to! You guys know I got a weak spot, what was I supposed to do? If they didn’t want Raph to push the big, red button, maybe they shouldn’t make it big ‘n red!” 

“Buddy, that’s not how that works and you know that.”

There’s three of them now and they’re so unreasonably fast! It’s so hard to keep up! Ugh, it almost feels like I am being punished after all. 

My accidental yelp luckily got drowned by Mikey’s groan. “Man, just let it go! We can smell your ‘I know I fucked up but don’t wanna admit it ‘cause I’m the big brother’ stench!”

”THAT’S A DIFFERENT STENCH!”

”AHH!” 

I really didn’t mean to blurt that out but the claw dug into my leg and yanked me off the ground! Guilt aside, it’s probably a good thing I caught their attention, especially since I dropped my sickles like a fucking moron!

“SALENA!” His sword slashed through the air but got promptly blocked and thrown back by another metal claw. A scary amount of them are showing up now! The guys are completely surrounded and I’m stuck useless, dangling in the air!

One of the arms came closer and opened its grippers, a scanner popping out this time, its red beam blinding my eyes. My breathing grew shallow, the commotion from below fading away. I’m getting lightheaded from being suspended upside down. I need to get out of this situation. But there’s nothing I can do. Just squint past the light and anxiously wait for its next move. 

My ears burned from the claw’s monstrous shriek. It sounds like a fucking animalistic version of nails on a chalkboard! Why did it react to me like this? Why me? Aren’t we all intruders? Why is it just me!?

“You deserve this.”

Was he right?

I didn’t process getting swung in the air until I was let go with enough momentum to cause a crash through the decor. My arms shook as I tried lifting my body up. Everything hurts, everything fucking hurts! My ears, my arms, my legs! My head! I just wanted a little distraction tonight! Why is this happening?

Is this really my karma?

…Wait a sec.

When I managed to lift my head, I came face to face with a crack in the wall where the robot arms were emerging from. The vines I saw earlier turned out to be permanently merged with the arms at the roots and lead to… something behind the wall. The crack was too small to properly make much out but it looked like it was breathing?

Whatever, I don’t have time to be surprised. “Guys! The arms! They’re coming from over here!” 

The crack’s small but just big enough for something slim! Like—

The claw dug into my leg once again and began dragging me away. “Leo! Donnie! One of your weapons can fit through!” 

“Got it!”

“I’ll cover!”

Flashes of blue scattered around the lobby. Each portal and throw of his sword brought Leo closer and closer to the wall. I couldn’t watch for too long, though, as I found myself back in the air again. It froze my skin getting thrown across the room faster than before. This time, towards the glass windows. 

Chains grabbed at my ankle and yanked me back to the ground away from my disastrous fate. I looked up to see the tangerine flashing a confident yet relieved smile at me. “Hey!”

“…Hey!” 

Mystic metal clinked as Mikey pulled back some of the robot arms chasing after Leo to buy him more time. Raph and Donnie quickly shifted gears and guarded me to make sure the plastic freaks couldn’t grab me again. Mikey continued to aid Leo, bouncing all over the room, keeping the arms distracted with his flow and somehow, still bringing them back to where he originally stood: Away from Leo. 

Finally, a sword was heard stabbing through the air and splashing through a soft, squishy substance. The arms dropped to the floor as the thing in the wall hissed in pain, slowly leading to the dreadfully awaited silence at last.

Mikey reached his hand out for me and pulled me up. “You good?”

“Not dead, yeah.” 

“Guess that’s a start.”

I glanced to the side at Donnie staring blankly at me, confused until he walked over and held one of my arms to examine my wrap. 

“Hmm, I wonder if there’s some modification I can do to your gloves that prevents your sickles from getting so easily lost.” I guess that’s why he was staring a minute ago. 

“Honestly, that’d be great. I keep losing them, so…”

“Yeah, I was thinking—“ 

“Nerd-talk later! Do a med scan!” Leo shoved him out the way and accidentally knocked Mikey back. Didn’t seem like he noticed since he immediately started checking me for injuries. I don’t even know when he got here?

Donnie sighed but went through with it anyway, tapping on his wrist as he checked my vitals. “No broken bones, no internal bleeding, nothing too concerning to report thankfully. Salena, do you feel alright?” 

“Mhm! Just some scratches here and there but I’ll live.” 

“Just some scratches, hm? You forgettin’ something?” Leo pointed down to my horrifically bruised and bloody leg. Whoops.

“…I-I’ll still live.”

While Leo took care of bandaging my leg, the rest of us spent the next few minutes catching our breaths. Mikey laid on the floor, limbs starfished out, while Donnie was texting April and catching her up to speed. I can only imagine how devastated she’d be in the morning, finding out she missed all this action. It’d have been nice having her here, honestly. 

Raph wasn’t near us, though. He stood by the wall where the once-breathing specimen was at. He kept peeking through the crack, rubbing his arm and looking hesitant about something.

“Raph?” My voice prompted the others to turn their attention to him.

“…Nobody else wonderin’ what the hell this thing could be? I know we’re only here to stop the Purple Dinos—“

“That’s Purple Dragons, Raphala.”

“—Whatever! But really, guys! After all that, we just gonna head home and forget about it?” 

He’s not wrong.

Come to think of it, this place is government funded. There should be no reason why some foreign entity exists in a place like the TCRI. They’re supposed to do space research and nothing else. That’s what they’re paid for.

“You know what?” Donnie turned his phone off. “I could work on hacking through their system myself. I don’t know if it’ll prove successful, but I can try.”

I felt Mikey’s head drop on my shoulder. He sure loves doing that. “What do we do about the vine thingies?” 

“Well, we can’t just—“ Leo paused, making eye contact with Raph. They shared a smirk and nodded.

“You thinkin’ what thinkin’ big bro?”

He chuckled, punching his fists together. “You bet!”

A bright red aura surrounded his figure as his arm reeled back and locked the sais in his hands.

“POWER PUNCH JUTSU!!!”

My body staggered as the ground shook upon impact, the dust clearing to reveal the tiny gap in the wall is suddenly a giant ass hole now.

“Man, y’all really don’t give a shit about government property, do ya?” 

“Nope. But hey! It was def the right choice!” Raph’s snaggletooth gleamed through his mischievous smile.

The five of us stared through the hole, trying to comprehend the oversized specimen in front of us. It was a pulsing, yellow-green thing in the shape of a tall tube, wider on the top than the bottom. There were reddish lines on it zigzagging up and down almost like veins. It was punctured at its middle, caused by the blade of the katana that shot right through it a few moments ago. 

“Ya know, it kind of resembles a plant. Which would explain the mystery vines, actually.”

“What plant, then? Ain’t no plant Raph knows of that throbs.”

He shook his head with a light shrug. “Sadly, I am not sure. It looks a little like a pitcher plant but also not really? They shouldn’t be luminescent or have vines emerging out like that. And also the throbbing, of course.” 

Pitcher plant, ay? I’ve heard of that. They’re my favorite out of all the carnivorous jungle plants Zane rambled about once. Plants were actually one of the first things we had a genuine bond over, even if I’m pretty clueless about them. The way his eyes lit up when talking about them with so much love and adoration just melted me.

His eyes…

His godforsaken eyes…

“Salena?”

“Huh?” How long have I been spaced out?

“You sure you’re good? You seemed kinda out of it just now.” I forgot how close Mikey was to me, I should be more careful.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.”

“Really? ‘Cause lowkey, you’ve been off all night. I didn’t wanna say anything but…”

“Oh, no, no, I’m—“

“Actually, you did mention something happened between you and your friend earlier, remember? Before you called me.” This violet ass motherfucker did not just erm actually me at the worst time ever.

“That what this about, big man? Had another fight with your friend?” Why is everyone suddenly focused on me!?

“N-Not the same one! This is someone different, I promise! T-that’s not to say I have a problem with everyone! I just… Um…” Great going, Salena! Now they’ll think you’re just insufferable and incapable of friendship! “I-I don’t think we should be—Well, we kinda have worse issues to worry about, don’t we?”

“Kendra and her yes-men ain’t here yet. What I wanna know is why you’re so spacey tonight! Dr. Feelings can’t help if he can’t know!”

“It’s nothing! N-nothing too bad, at least. He just—A-actually, it was really mostly me so um… It’s hard to explain exactly…”

Geez, my palms are annoyingly sweaty. I really don’t wanna give them the wrong idea, it was just one fight! It’s not a representation of our entire relationship! But I know from experience any time I try talking about Zane to someone, they end up hating him and I don’t want that! Fuck, I should’ve been more careful. My stupid tongue-tied gibberish ain’t helping the situation, either!

My shoulders flinched when I saw Leo stand in front of me, hand on his hip as he faced towards his brothers. “Okay, hermanos, give her some space! Stop smothering! I know we’re all worried, I’m worried too, but if Salena doesn’t wanna talk, they shouldn’t be forced to.”

The others finally piped down. None of them looked happy about it—understandably so—but it seemed Leo was able to convince them to drop it, anyway. I really owe him one. 

He peeked over his shoulder to glance back at me. “If you do wanna talk about something, though, we’re here for you.” 

…It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t see how it’d help anything— 

CRASH!!!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, HAVE WE NOT HAD ENOUGH SURPRISES FOR ONE NIGHT!?

“Good going, Jase. Real quiet of you.”

All of us, equally tense and gripping our weapons to stand guard, took a solid minute to process that the loud crash wasn’t another dumbass robot-plant-arm thing, but instead was Kendra and the other two stumbling through the main door they hacked open. Speak of the dragons and they arrive, I suppose.

She looked over at us and her sharp eyes drooped lower. “Of course.” 

I only ever knew Kendra before tonight, none of the other members. Hate her guts since she’s forever engraved as April’s bully in my mind and doesn’t seem to have changed. Her movements and mannerisms still match the coy, conniving person I remember her to be, walking over in such a smug, superior way that screams “greater than thou”. Once, back when they were still in high school, April had a mini breakdown due to college applications kicking her ass. She was struggling and stressing over not getting accepted into a good amount of her options and believed she’d have to rely solely on her safeties at that point. Kendra really rubbed it in. Wouldn’t shut up about it, demeaning her for being a failure. 

April knows damn well to never take Kendra seriously. However, it’s not a surprise those words still stung considering how stupidly frightening the whole college process is. Joke’s on Kendra, though. One of April’s main choices that had her wait-listed ended up accepting her in! As for Kendra? All hypocritical bark, no bite it seems. 

“Hello, Von Ryan. How’s life?”

“Good, good. How about you, enjoying your—what’d you call it? ‘Intellectual freedom’?” 

“Low blow even for you. You guys couldn’t fuck around here with your little toys another night?” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze drifted towards me as her brows furrowed more. 

“Who’s that—Hold up. You… Yeah, I remember you!” She’s doing that annoying fake-nice tone she uses sometimes, the one that makes me wanna punch her in the face. “You’re that idiot kid April wouldn’t shut up about tutoring last year! What’s a teacher’s pet like you doing here?”

Mikey gasped and covered my ears like a parent to a toddler witnessing sailor-speak. “Hey! Don’t you dare talk about our friend like that!” 

I honestly couldn’t care less what Kendra says about me. Personally, I’m more focused on the other two, right now. It’s my first time ever seeing them, I think Donnie said their names were Jason and Jeremy? They’ve been pretty quiet so far, standing at her side and smirking like Saturday-morning cartoon lackeys. One of them had a large, blocky figure, dark skin, and dyed green hair. His gold visor looked pretty cool, I’ll admit. The other—I could guess from his hunched demeanor alone—was definitely their token punching bag. He’s got these awkward gloves that are way too big for his hands. Dark eyes, short, black hair, and round… glasses…

NO FUCKING WAY!

“YOU—HIM! OH MY GOD! NOOOO, NO-NO-NO-NO! NO! NO!” Ain’t no motherfucking way this bitch is who I think he is, this has to be a prank! It has to! For the sake of my sanity! Oh, but it isn't! It’s fucking real!

“...Salena? You doin’ okay?” The others looked concerned at my sudden and dramatic outlash. Fucking of course, Donnie and Mikey wouldn’t know! Jason still had the bag over his head when he was around them! Fuck, why didn’t I just take it off right there!?

“Jason! That asshole was who we saved from Meatsweats a few months ago!”

Raph and Leo looked just as lost as before. Mikey and Donnie, on the other hand, went pale with shock.

“That was you!?” Donnie’s staff pointed directly at the fucker. “Why didn’t you say anything!? I know you recognized my voice!” 

“I can’t believe Salena and I interrupted a perfectly nice day to save you of all folks! You ruined our lovely little ice cream date, dawg!”

“I was being kidnapped by a pig monster? Why would I reveal I’m a rival when you were the only help I had?”

“And yet, here you are, the very reason we’re stuck in this creepy facility, preventing you three from illegally accessing information and doing who knows what with it even though you now owe us one, YOU UNGRATEFUL MENACE!”

Before I could fix my brain enough to join in on justifiably shaming the idiot, I noticed Leo and Raph exchanging confused glances at each other.

“...What the hell is going on?”

“Raph don’t know.” They both looked at me for answers because the universe hates me.

I tearfully and shamefully explained the bullshit scenario we are now stuck in due to my impulsivity. “Donnie, Mikey, and I saved a guy from Meatsweats I think back in April? H-he had a bag over his head so they didn’t know what he looked like and I-I was the only one who saw him without it b-but I didn’t know he was part of the fucking Purple Dragons and—Fuck my life! My first ever save and it was a villain!?” The one time I actually did something useful…

God, there’s so much noise everywhere! Everyone’s arguing with each other or trying to get it to stop or whatever else is going on! My head hurts. Why did I even come here? I should’ve just went home. I should’ve stayed with Zane. I keep getting in the way, I keep making mistakes, I keep ruining things!

I have to keep my composure, though. I don’t wanna cry in a situation like this, not when I’ve already done enough harm.

“Wait a sec, where’s Jeremy?” 

We all paused, the realization clearing up as we heard a cheer from another room. “Yes! I got in! I got past the system!”

“Holy shit, he’s in the computer lab! Quick, we—” 

A bat hit Donnie straight on his stomach and knocked him back, Raph catching him so he wouldn’t fall to the floor. 

Kendra clicked her tongue as she laughed. “I gotta hand it to ya, you morons somehow turned off these stupid security systems. Definitely the most annoying part I’d have had to figure out; I guess that’s why I wanted ‘em, anyway. I don’t know how you did it but congrats! You’re not completely useless.” It looked more like she was addressing Donnie over any of us.

“But now?” She and Jason blocked the door. Her bat stood by her side. “Stay out of my fucking way.”

Obviously, that’s not happening, so chaos erupted instead. One would think a Two VS. Five would be pretty easy to handle… until they saw how well Kendra used her bat, that is. She’s faster than I expected, able to zip around before anyone could properly react. Definitely has a strong arm, too. Then, of course, there’s the traitor. Jason pushed his glasses up his nose bridge and took out his own set of weapons. Or should I say, whipped them out. ‘Cause they’re actually fucking whips. 

They were almost impossible to get by. Glowing in the dark room, buzzing from the static friction they made against each other. 

He targeted them towards Leo who barely managed to dodge just in time. Mikey, not being as lucky, got smacked right in the face.

“OW! Hey! Since when did he even have those!?” 

“Oh! Since last week, actually. I made them using—”

Either the bitch has good hearing or I was too loud when my sickle swung at his head. “Are ya dense!? How are you still tryna maintain small-talk after literally betraying us!? You know what I looked like, you wouldn’t have even said anything if I didn’t call you out! You lied to me! I saved you and you lied!”

“AH! The hell, man!? You’re gonna kill me for that!?”

“No!” The sickles weren’t sharp, only a little solid. I know I gotta resist. Unfortunately. “Just knock you out for a bit, you scheming piece of shit!” 

I wish I could say I was making up for my several blunders tonight by at least being able to handle the living embodiment of a toothpick. My leg’s not super mangled up but, surprise-surprise, it’s hard to move at my fastest and dodge with it still being injured. He’s a little impressively good with those whips, too. It’s hard keeping track of where they both are at all times, the difficulty only increased by how quick he’s able to use them considering he’s only trained for a week. I’m trying my damn best with what I can.

“Oh my god, give it up with the guilt-tripping! I’m not gonna turn on my sister just ‘cause you saved me once!”

“Hell no! I risked turning into mutant-munchies for you—Hol’ up a sec.” The pure blasphemy that came out of his mouth shocked me so bad, I actually had to pause. “Kendra’s your sister? Ew, what’s that like?”

Yet another mistake on my part. One of the whips wrapped around my sickle to fling it and I—determined to not lose them again—got shot through the air along with it. 

At this rate, I’ll be free-bird flying and crashing to the floor every five minutes. I don’t even feel like getting up anymore. Fuck, I don’t usually feel pain so easily.

Hm?

The battle ground’s a little chaotic so it’s hard to follow when in the middle of it. But, now that I’m seeing it from a distance, everyone’s intentions are suddenly ten times clearer. Kendra’s hovering towards a specific direction, dancing around the door to where Jeremy is. Jason’s distracting everyone and keeping them from paying attention to her. I have a feeling that’s very much so on purpose.

She’s starting to go in. I guess it doesn’t matter whether or not I want to, I gotta get up now. I closed my eyes and with whatever strength I had, used my sickles to turn invisible and go after her. 

I snuck by Kendra and entered the lab. Jeremy was glued to the computer, staring at a loading screen. On the side of the PC was a USB stuck to the port. Of course, accidentally saving the villain wasn’t enough! They had to use the same shitty USB we went back for, too.

“Jeremy, status report!”

“It’s almost done downloading the files! Just a few more seconds and… We got it!”

“Nice work! Quick! Toss ‘em over!”

Oh boy, if Kendra’s able to gain the instructions for those freaky arms, who knows what she’ll make with it! I can’t let them get access to anything here!

 Thus, following my usual rule of acting-without-thinking, I threw a sickle at the USB. I don’t know if it was my panic or my rage that caused it to be so sharp but it cut the USB in half mid-air and smashed straight into one of the PCs. My punishment for resorting to such destructively impulsive solutions was being greeted by the lovely melody of security sirens going off for breaking their important tech.

“No! My USB! There was so much stuff in that! Fuck!” She is so seriously distraught over the wrong thing. 

Upon retrieving my sickle, I hadn’t realized I was flickering in and out of visibility till Kendra’s bat nearly made contact with my head. “You little skeeze! Do you have any idea how much of my progress you destroyed!” 

“But that’s mine and Jason’s progress—“

“SHUT UP!” She snapped her head back to bark at him and I took my moment of escape, knocking her down out of my way. Still, she kept up by yanking at my leg and pulling me down with her, severely getting on my nerves by now.

So, I kicked her in the face.

She stayed there, groaning in pain, while her sidekick buddy checked on her. Sure, I could’ve kicked a little softer but I think a bloody nose is merciful enough for her. 

I returned to the lobby, greeted by chaos more hectic than before. The alarms and sirens were still blaring, red lights flashing on and off the entire facility. Our oh so beloved security arm friends returned in even greater numbers now! If I believed in superstition, I’d believe this night was cursed.

Jason’s looking a little overwhelmed now having to solo both the Teenage Mutant Mad Dogz and the newly emerged robot claws, yet he’s still not giving in and letting the guys go in peace. Speaking of them, they’re scattered all over the place, trying to keep themselves and each other from getting yoinked and flung like I was earlier. 

Donnie was the only one who managed to maneuver over to me.

“Salena!?” 

“Donnie! What’s going on!? Where’d the stupid arms come from!?”

“Well, I suppose it’d be impractical if they only had one source of their weird mystic high-tech robots, so there’s that.” He spun his tech-bō and whacked away the claw that was following him. “What happened in there? You disappeared and then we heard a loud crash from that room and suddenly everything got dialed up to eleven!”

“Uh, yeah, my fault, I uh—Eek!” Thank god for reflexes, the only thing that let me slice at a robot arm before it sliced me. “Good news is, I destroyed the USB they were using so Kendra can’t access the government’s whatever-the-fuck anymore! Bad news, I also accidentally destroyed one of their computers in the process, set off the security alarms, and now we’re here. Sorry, haha…” 

“You what!?”

“It was an accident, I swear! I really didn’t mean—”

“You annoying little twinkle-toes!” Kendra charged at us from behind and her bat swung directly at me. Thankfully, Donnie blocked it from knocking me dead and sent Kendra back a few steps. 

“You know what? If you got Kendra this mad, then you’re forgiven for everything on my terms! Let’s go!” He grabbed my wrist and dragged us away from the bat-wielding maniac.

Though, I’m not sure whether a metal bat or metal claws are worse. A bunch of them charged towards me now that I got back within their sight. 

“Move!” He shoved me out of the way of the monster claws.

I slid on the ground, actually keeping my balance this time, and swung at another claw coming from my right. Without having a moment to breathe, I ducked and slashed at one right above me. I would’ve missed the one coming from behind me, had Raph not been there and created a mystic shield. There’s so many all around the flat and it seems I’m still their favorite toy. 

“Salena, try hidin’ somewhere!” He punched one of the claws straight on, the impact causing a loud clunk. “They keep coming after you!” 

“I can’t! They saw me even when I turned invisible, they probably have a different type of vision or something!” 

“Infrared vision, genius!” Kendra’s bat got caught by my sickle. She aimed for my torso this time, I’m surprised it wasn’t back at my head. “They were built with thermal sensors! Which I would’ve been able to shut off if somebody didn’t break the computers!”

“God, were you built to get on people’s nerves!?” 

I’ve just about had it with her bullshit, reflected in my blades turning sharp enough to slice her bat in half. I elbowed her in the stomach and took the chance to roll over to a new spot. The closest I can get to hiding is continuously moving, staying in one place meant getting hoarded.

Mikey grumbled nearby, his nunchucks spinning in his hands. “Man, they’re too much! We gotta go! Leo?”

“A bit busy!” Busy was right, he’s cutting down a good number of the plastic pains with his katanas. There’s no good opportunity to use them as an escape portal, let alone any safe ones.

Beep! Beep!

Donnie raised his gauntlet up and flashed what I assume to be the building’s security cameras he hacked into. “Oh, no, no, no, guys! They’re sending actual human officers up now! What do we do!?”

Everyone’s panicked, shit’s fucked to the brim, and the constant beeps and shrieks are only making it harder to think! Kendra’s yelling about her bat, Mikey’s chosen to deal with the Purple Disasters while they’re bickering away, Raph’s boxing the claws and shielding Donnie, who’s frantically typing at his wristwatch to hack the security, and Leo’s… Screaming and getting flung. Sweet, we’ve matched now.

I ran over to Leo, guarding him from the arms trying to take advantage of the situation. “So, how’d you like your first flight?”

“I’d prefer it more if I was actually expecting it.” He got up almost as fast as he crashed down, not wasting a single second to getting back in the fight. “Ugh, I gotta get us out of here, but I need an opening!”

“Want me to try clearing something out?”

“You got any plans on how—Shit, get back!” His arm pushed me back behind him to avoid getting hit. 

The white tails of my ribbon flew forward, slightly blocking my vision. I looked straight ahead, past the death machines and battle-ground chaos, and saw the glass windows showcasing the brightly-lit city night.

The ribbon…

…Bingo.

“I actually might.” I tugged at the silk tails and felt my hair flow down as it got undone. “Just trust me and get everyone out at the first opportunity you get!”

“Wait, what are you—”

I dashed past him before he could ask any questions, no real time for them now. My multitasking skills were given the ultimate test as I focused on darting across the room, intentionally getting the arms to gather and chase after me, while tying the ribbon to the handles of my sickles and connecting them together. 

In the corner of my eye, I saw Mikey had managed to take out Kendra and her sidekicks. Don’t even gotta worry about them now, it’s going better than I thought! There was pounding at the door. Seems Donnie locked the officers out for now, but I doubt it’ll be long till they find a way to break in by force. Gotta move fast. This plan could fail horrifically, but it’s the best shot we’ve got!

With all the security arms focused on me now, the boys had a clear opening to leave. I sprinted to the windows, wound back my sickles, and broke the glass with a single throw. 

Now or never!

“HOT SOUP!!!” 

And out the window I went.

The air felt amazing, rushing by my skin as I let gravity take over the fall. I turned myself over, now looking up at the sky. The arms were shooting out the windows, unable to reach down any further to get me. A flash of blue from the inside indicated everyone was out safely. That’s my cue to prevent myself from dying now!

I held onto one of my sickles and swung the other one up. My spine tingled as a pink aura washed over my hand and over the sickle that I grabbed, trailing its way up the white silk ribbon…

Transforming it to chains!?

The pure white mystic chain clanked as it stretched out. The sickle I threw up now broke through the glass side of the building and continued shattering through it straight down. A few broken shards chipped at me as I snapped back to reality and remembered the original plan. I closed my eyes and refocused on the sickles. No thoughts, no distractions, no room for any of them. I have to breathe. I have to focus. 

The blades morphed them into a stiff rubber. Too soft to break the glass, too strong to break itself in half, effectively yanking me to a stop. 

I did it.

I actually fucking did it!

“Holy truffle mac and cheese, that was awesome!”

“I know!” I excitedly greeted Donnie who had flown over using his jet pack. “I can’t believe it went so well! You saw it all?”

“And recorded!” He turned his back towards me and pointed at his shell. “Need a ride?” 

“Definitely.” 

We cruised across the sky onto the roof of a nearby building where the rest of the guys were. The instant I hopped off Donnie’s shell, Leo jumped me with a hug, followed by several frantic checks to make sure all limbs were intact.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you dizzy? What’s wrong with you? You’re crazy! You’re crazy, you know that!?”

“Now who’s smothering them?” Mikey snickered at Leo, who looked relieved and on the verge of tears at the same time. 

“Everyone shut up and look at this video first! You’ll probably forget whatever meaningless chitchat you were having, anyway!” Donnie hissed from glee, using his extra mechanical limbs to huddle us all around his phone that was playing the video of me from a few moments ago. 

Looking at the footage now, it seemed the pink aura actually came from my whole body. It spread throughout my arms and circled past my hands, flowing to the white ribbon and replacing them with shimmering, white chains. 

Mikey screamed from excitement, holding onto my hands. “MYSTIC CHAINS! Omigosh, we match now! We’re like twins!” 

“I know! Isn’t it great!? We can be chain buddies—Eh, nevermind, that doesn’t sound right.” 

We sat around for a while so Leo could help with all the cuts and microscopic bits of glass stuck to me. In the meantime, they were all curious how the chains even came to be, which I sadly didn’t have a clear answer for. I went ahead and reassured them my plan would’ve still worked with the ribbon itself, though. Speaking of, I can’t really get my ribbon back now. Sorry, Mi. However, I did figure out how to make the chains vanish and re-materialize, so at least I don’t have to learn a different fighting style! 

Donnie was paying attention, I think. Just multitasking with a few holographic monitors up. He sighed and put ‘em away after a while.

“Yeah, no, sorry guys. Maybe my brain’s too fuzzy but I can’t hack into the actual database tonight.”

“No big deal, Don. Ya done enough.” Raph gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Hey, you guys wanna go grab some pizza? Raph could use a break.”

“Yeah, I think we all could.” Hopeful, green eyes faced towards me. “Salena? It’s late but… You wanna join us for a bit?”

It’s around 3am now. If I went home now, I’d only get three hours of sleep and that’s assuming I’ll conk out immediately. It’s not impossible, though, I can feel the energy crash creeping up from all the adrenaline. But, I don’t know. I don’t wanna go yet. 

“I’m already out, aren’t I? Might as well!” 

Turns out, for once tonight, I made the right choice. It was fun getting to be with them in a more casual manner. Just chilling at a park, enjoying some pizza, and re-energizing myself as I watched them goof around. I checked through my phone while I enjoyed the delicious cheesy glory.

Everything seemed normal.

Except for one tiny issue.

I was putting it off but Zane sent a voice note to me a few hours ago. I don’t have earbuds but everyone’s pretty distracted right now, anyway. I could listen to it. Maybe it’s… Maybe it’s better than I think it is. 

I lowered the volume just to have it barely audible and clicked play.

“Hey. Um… I hope you’re home and safe now. I…” He sighed and went silent for a while. 

“This wasn’t how I intended tonight to be. It was such a gorgeous night. The weather was perfect. Everything was perfect. It was all going so well. What happened? Why do we always end up like this?”

I wish I knew. Or that he knew. Maybe we could’ve helped each other if just one of us knew what was the problem.

“Everything in my life always goes so wrong. I’m so tired of it, Salena. You’re the only thing I haven’t messed up. I don’t want to mess this up. I just—” I could hear a creek from the door opening as someone came in the room. “Yeah, it’s on the floor, clean it up. I don’t know how, just go clean it!”

Sounds of glass being swept up filled the background atmosphere. Zane sighed again. “Sorry. One of my vases broke tonight. The cherry on top, right? Anyway, uh… I’ll just end it here. I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re dreaming of something nice. And I’m… I’m sorry.”

The voice note ended. It wasn’t that bad, I guess. I feel a little bad about earlier but I’m glad he apologized. I guess things are fine now. I should probably leave a text, it’d be wrong to hold a grudge if the situation’s already resolved. 

You: hey i’m safe yea. I just wanna say i’m sorry too for lashing out like that earlier. I hope you’re sleeping well, sweet dreams and see ya tomorrow <3

There we go. Nothing to worry about now. Nothing to stress over.

A hand tapped at my shoulder. I raised my head to meet Mikey smiling down at me. “Mind if I sit? They’re bein’ a little loco even for my taste right now.”

I looked straight and saw Leo and Donnie arguing over whether pineapple belongs on pizza and Raph taking the opportunity to sneakily eat their slices. Pretty tame behavior from them, but Mikey’s tone was too lighthearted to be serious, anyway. 

I shifted over on the bench and patted the empty space next to me. He sat down and brought his knees to his chest, his back leaning against my side. He shuffled with his phone for a bit before offering me one of his earbuds. “Wanna listen to Fall Out Boy with me?”

“Sure!” 

I could use some music after tonight.

Next Chapter

This chapter was nearly 15K words btw-

#save rottmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt moths fly in packs #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic recs #rottmnt au #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt oc x canon #rottmnt oc #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #oc x canon #rottmnt season 3 #nickelodeon #paramount+ #rottmnt mfip #rottmnt leo x oc #rottmnt raph x oc #rottmnt mikey x oc #rottmnt donnie x oc #found family trope #accidental therapy #coming of age #platonic love #familial love #romantic love #rise oc #fanfic recs

[moonlight-prose]

BADLANDS | FOUR

a/n: i fucking jinxed it. for some reason i lost inspo for this man, but out of nowhere it came back full force. so i'm churning out what i can before it ducks back into it's hiding spot again. in my head there's three more chapters after this. so we're nearing the end! for this one i'm taking it back and finally revealing what happened that night.

summary: love confessions and whiskey always made for a bad combination. similar to you and rooster.

word count: 10k+

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader (callsign panther)

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED, cussing, a heaping amount of angst, alcohol consumption, fighting, arguing, rough sex, p in v sex, cum eating, a tad bit of humiliation (not really), confessions.

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THE HARD DECK; FIGHTERTOWN

You heard her enter before you saw her. The furious stomp of her boots against the hardwood floor and the clatter of her helmet against the bar echoed in the empty building. Penny had left an hour ago, entrusting you with the keys and a warning to not destroy her bar. A promise you intended to keep by the end of the night.

However it seemed to you that Phoenix had other plans.

If you focused, you bet you would be able to feel the anger radiating off of her. You wouldn’t even be able to blame her. Not with the news of different missions people were going on that had been spreading through the base like wildfire all day. You still couldn’t believe it yourself. Hell, you were half positive that you weren’t actually sitting at this bar the night before you were meant to ship out.

Graduation was a day ago, you were all readying your plans for missions on opposite ends of the world and yet there you were…waiting. You figured she’d come and find you eventually after figuring out your plans. Shit the only reason you were drinking so heavily tonight was to prepare for the inevitable argument that was on the horizon. Just like the sun would in the morning, it began to peek its head out the longer you left her there in silence. Stewing in her anger—in your betrayal.

“What the fuck Panther.”

You winced, the ire in her tone enough to slice through your like a sharp blade. “I guess you heard,” you sighed, downing the last of the whiskey in your glass.

“No shit I heard.” She took the stool beside you, snatching the bottle off the bar and drinking from the top. “How could you do this to me?”

“Phoenix—”

“Shut up for a second would you?” She only spoke like this when you managed to royally piss her off and in a case such as this one, you figured you were better off listening to her than pushing your luck. “I counted on us flying together on the next mission. That's why I agreed to it. You’re why I agreed. You’re one of the only people I trust up there to have my back and all of a sudden you aren’t going to be there.”

Sighing, you felt the familiar twinge in your chest give way to the hot burn of guilt that stewed in your stomach. Making the choice had never been an easy one. In fact, you were fully intent on leaving before anyone could officially find out. Except you were never a coward. No, you were taught to face the consequences of your choices head on, and like a soldier, you did exactly that. You stayed to explain, to let her know that you had to do this—for your own sake.

“I just want to know why,” she said, the anger dissipating slowly.

Finally…you turned to face her, the shine in your eyes evident even in the lowlights of the bar. “I…I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.” She stood up, heading behind the bar and grabbing another bottle, making sure to tuck what cash she had in the empty space. “You know exactly why. So tell me. I want a reason.”

“I—”

She smiled even though it never quite reached her eyes. You knew choosing to go a completely different path would eventually lead you here. This part was inevitable. It always had been. Somehow facing her had become the most terrifying part of making this choice. While the others had said their goodbyes with smiles on their faces and ambition in their eyes, you were halfway to breaking on the inside. Goodbye for you really meant goodbye. 

At least for a long time.

“I’m not cut out for the Navy Phoenix.” You shook your head at the sight of her mouth opening. “We both know I didn’t join by the pure desire to fly like you and the others. I just…there’s always been a hole in me and no matter what I did I couldn’t fill it. Being up there for some reason…it fills that hole. At least somewhat. But I can’t do large missions yet. Not until I realize that this is actually what I want to do for the rest of my life, because once I make that choice it’s final.”

Phoenix fell silent, her eyes watching you with a look that you’d only seen her wear once before. The day you met you beat her in training. Getting to the end of the course faster than she’d ever seen and by the time you go out, she was there waiting to introduce herself. A look of disbelief on her face, but an awestruck glint in her eyes. She’d made it known that if there was anyone better than her it was you. The pilot who flew as if you had nothing else to lose.

The fearless Panther.

“You always did know what you wanted out of life,” she finally said, pouring herself another glass.

“I wouldn’t call me acting like a chicken shit knowing what I want.” She scoffed, downing her glass as if it was a shot of water. “So you’re not mad?”

Before you left tonight for a different part of the country, you needed that clarification. Everything else could go wrong for you, but Phoenix never forgiving you was the one thing you couldn’t bear. Sure, you were her wingman, her ally in the skies, but above all that you were her friend. It was a friendship you couldn’t let go of. One that you’d clutch on to as tightly as humanly possible.

She sighed, raising her head to meet your desperate gaze. “I’m not mad Panther. I just wish you gave me a heads up.”

“I’ll do that next time.”

“What makes you think there will be a next time huh?”

Now it was your turn to smile, the weight of your guilt lifting off your shoulders. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I can try,” she mumbled, laughing into her glass as you shoved her.

“Bullshit you can try. Whether you like it or not I’m stuck to you like glue Phoenix.” You raised your glass, feeling the warmth of the alcohol set into your veins like a fire not yet coming to full fruition. “Till we crash and burn in?”

She shook her head. “You know everyone would hate hearing us use that phrase.”

“Oh come on.” You nudged her again, knowing that no matter what she’d repeat it back. It was a dark outlook on the reality of being a pilot, but somehow you managed to twist into something lighthearted. A reminder that no matter what happened…you were with her till the end.

Raising her glass, she smiled and for the first time in the night it finally reached her eyes. “Till we crash and burn in.”

The whiskey burned on the way down, probably a sign of you having one too many, but you found comfort in the pain. You smiled at the sight of her wincing, knowing that no matter how tough she really was, she still caved at the sight of whiskey. As much as you wanted to push away the reality of this moment, you couldn’t. Nights like this wouldn’t happen very often for the two of you after today. You wouldn’t be able to simply spend time with your best friend, because she’d be off doing what she always planned to do and you were supposed to go with her.

Yet you knew that the path you were veering towards always had your name on it.

“I’m going to miss you,” you said, leaning your head against the palm of your hand.

Her smile as much as you wanted it to remain happy, turned sad—the realization settling in her mind as well. “I’m going to miss you too,” she whispered, reaching for your hand.

“One more drink?” You wanted her to stay longer, to prolong this goodbye until the sun came up and there was no more time left. She had to be up early to follow the mission parameters and you had to close up the bar for Penny. One final goodbye to the place you’d spent your years in—a place you called home.

“I would, but…”

“Right.”

Another smile crossed your lips as you fought back the tears that stung your eyes. You weren’t emotional by nature, choosing instead to hold everything back from the world around you. But every now and then you couldn’t reign them in. Sometimes the emotions were too much for even you to bear, but you didn’t mind tonight. Not when she was in a similar state. She dragged you in for a hug that would have to last you until you saw her again.

Neither of you knew when that would be. There was no definitive answer. Perhaps that was the worst part of letting her leave on a mission that could very well be life or death. You didn’t know if you’d see her in a few months or in a few years. Or maybe tonight was it for the both of you. Although that was a future you desperately wished would never come true. Nonetheless it still hung over you like a storm cloud, waiting for that one day when rain would be forecasted and grief would spill out from the skies.

“Take care of yourself,” you breathed, clutching her tight until the very last possible second.

“You too Panther,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Pulling away she dropped a small piece of paper in front of you, her name and next location scribbled down just in case you needed to reach her. Legally you weren’t allowed to disclose information like this, but for Phoenix friends always came before legal shit. It worked the same with you. Keeping track of one another kept you sane, kept you from letting the isolation get to you.

You thanked her for this amount of information, watching as she walked towards the door and left without looking back. Once again the place felt hollow—a mere memory of days gone past. Of staying out too late and laughing until it hurt to breathe. You looked around at the emptiness of it all. The rows and rows of pictures that hung on one wall and the lonesome piano in the center of the room. Even though you were here for a reason seeing the instrument so quiet still pained you—his fingers usually bringing it to life.

Sitting on the creaky old piano bench, you saw all those night flash in your mind. All the times he brought the bar to life with just a few notes.

As if he could hear your thoughts, the bar doors swung open, footsteps walking slowly across the wooden floor. You knew the cadence of his walk, the echo of his boots and if you didn’t hate one another you would have smiled. Still you didn’t turn to look at him, choosing instead to focus your attention on the sunset that turned the sky orange outside. A magnificent sight for one last night. Nature was giving you one last farewell until you returned once more, coming back home.

“Did you see Phoenix?” You spoke up, trying to appease some of the tension between you two.

Graduation was awkward. Seeing him in his dress whites, his eyes glowing with a joy you’d only ever seen him have once before. The sight made your heart leap in your chest, the feelings you kept buried suddenly peeking their head out again. Yet unlike every other time where you shoved them back down, you allowed them to fester. To take up space in your chest and remind you who your heart truly belonged to.

So when he asked to meet you here…you didn’t say no this time.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “She wished me luck.”

That made you smile briefly. No matter how many times you and Bradley fought, she always played the peacekeeper—standing by both your sides until the very end. If only she’d known how you felt, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

Getting up from the bench, you finally turned to look at him, the nerves thrumming consistently beneath your skin. You were terrified of this moment, of when time ran out and you had to come to terms with the truth. But then you looked at him and all that worry, all that grief washed away as you took him in.

He wore his service khakis, his hair mussed from pushing his hands through it and an anxious glint in his eyes. He looked at you like a puppy asking for forgiveness. A man who was tired of war, who simply yearned for peace.

“Hi,” you said, a small smile flashing across your lips.

“Hi.” He exhaled, laughing as he watched you head towards the bar. Your glass, still beside the half empty bottle of whiskey.

He took the stool beside you. “I thought I’d find you here kitten.”

The playful nature he usually donned when around you started to come back, slipping into his stance, his smile. None of it helped you appease the racing of your heart. In fact it only made it worse the longer you sat beside him, able to feel the warmth of his body practically press into yours. He caused your mind to reel just by being near you and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet.

“You told me to come here.” You didn’t want to say it, but he looked almost…bashful. “Why…did you ask me here, Bradshaw?”

He poured himself a glass, allowing the silence to build between the two of you until neither of you could take it anymore. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all night.”

Taking a deep breath, he took a sip before meeting your eyes. “I know we’ve graduated and you and I have done nothing but try and kill each other—”

“That’s an understatement.”

He shook his head. “Well, I’m here calling a truce.”

“Where’s your white flag?” you asked, pushing his buttons as much as you could one last time. Teasing, pushing and pulling until there was nothing left was the nature of your relationship—it’s how you figured tonight would go. 

Until time ran out.

“If you wanted my shirt kitten all you had to do was ask.” He smiled, his eyes taking in every detail, every minute reaction you had to his words. You saw him catch the way you inhaled a bit deeper, how your eyes shifted to catch a glimpse of the white fabric that peeked beneath his uniform.

Clearing your throat, you tore yourself away, once again focusing on the amber liquid that was slowly turning your mind hazy. “What else were you going to say?”

“Right…” You weren’t sure how much more of this waiting you could take—the restlessness of sitting so close yet so far apart now getting to you. “We’ve done nothing but try to kill each other but…”

“But?” Fuck, you hoped what you thought he was going to say next actually came out of his mouth.

Sucking in a breath, he set the glass down on the bartop. “I want to be with you,” he blurted out and time ceased to exist.

His face turned red when he caught you staring at him with your eyes wide. There was no doubt that you wore an expression of utter disbelief on your face. You felt your heart swell as your hands began to shake, but words continued to evade you. What the fuck do you say when the man you’d been fighting with confessed he wanted the opposite? You tried to come up with something—any small word to say—but you were pretty sure your brain stopped working five seconds ago.

Luckily for you, he wasn’t out of words. “I…I care about you kitten. Fuck I don’t know if it’s love or if it’s just some crush, but…I know I want you.”

Your throat felt dry as you tried to swallow, his words sinking into your mind. “You…”

“Yes,” he replied.

“And what if…” You could barely get the fucking words out. “What if this—” You gestured between the both of you, your hands shaking slightly. “—is just an itch that needs to be scratched to get me out of your mind?”

“It’s not.”

You couldn’t stand the way he was watching you with so much calm in his expression; as if he was so sure about what the two of you shared. “How do you know?”

He leaned forward, lips twitching as he heard your breath catch in your throat at his close proximity. “Because you’ve been on my mind since day one, kitten. Believe me when I say nothing could get you out of it. Nothing would make me want you to leave it.”

The temptation to lean in further, to finally press your lips against him and know what it felt like nearly overtook you. If he were anyone else, you would have gone for it, but this was Bradley. The man who you thought hated you with a burning passion, the one who continued to catch you by surprise day in and day out. You’d fought with him so many times that finding a middle ground seemed impossible. By graduation you figured things would never change. He would always be the man you were too afraid to admit your feelings to and he would continue hating you.

A cold chill went down your spine causing you to shudder. That alone was enough to snap you out of whatever spell you were under, giving you time to take a step back and assess what just occurred. So, you got up from the chair—much to his disappointment.

“Panther?” His eyebrows pulled together, eyes filled with worry and you couldn’t discern if it was for you or for the situation. Somehow that made everything that much more maddening.

“You’re joking right?” He froze, one foot planted on the ground and the other still propped up on the stool, his mouth opening to no doubt contradict your question, but you were too far gone to stop. “This has to be some prank you’re playing, because we’ve hated each other for years. I’m not imagining that right?”

“Kitten—”

You stumbled back as he stood fully. “No wait. I…I’m having trouble believing that. You hate me and all of a sudden you don’t anymore? Last time I checked those feelings don’t necessarily go away just like that.”

His expression of worry fell away, a hard look replacing it. “If you don’t feel the same way then you can say that. But don’t give me this bullshit excuse.”

“EXCUSE?” you shouted. “You think I’m giving you an excuse? Oh that’s right I forgot. Bradley Bradshaw can do no wrong. So how dare I think that when he confesses feelings it’s real and not meant to make fun of my own—” You cut yourself off, snapping your jaw shut as the words you were too terrified to say nearly broke free on their own.

But the damage had been done. His eyes widened as what you just said sunk into his mind and before you could scramble back to put even more distance between the two of you, he’d closed whatever still existed. A gasp escaped you as his arm wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer until no space remained, until you had no choice but to look up at him and meet his eyes. They were practically brimming with an emotion you couldn’t place no matter how hard you wracked your brain.

He’d never looked at you like that before.

“What did you say?” he whispered, reaching up to cup your cheek.

“Nothing.”

His lips curled up into a crooked smile. “Bullshit.”

“Fuck you Bradshaw.” It didn’t have the intended effect you hoped it would. Rather than letting you go, his smile only deepened, thumb brushing along the top of your cheek lightly and causing your head to spin. “You don’t get to come in here and act like you’re the only one who felt that way.”

“Kitten—”

“No! You don’t get to confess when I’ve spent years loving you, when I should be the one to confess—”

His hand curled around the back of your neck, yanking you so close and for a brief moment you prepared yourself to slap him away. But then…his lips molded over yours so swiftly the thought fell away. You mind nearly shut off as he pressed himself closer, his tongue sliding along your bottom lip. He was…kissing you. Seconds passed before he started to pull away due to no response from you, the rest of you lagging behind. Except then your brain came back to life.

Leaning into him, you slid a hand up his chest, curling into his hair and pulling him even closer as you woke up from your daze. After so many years of being at each other’s throats, the truth had been finally set free. You just never expected it to result in this. He tasted like whiskey and mint, smelled like the remnants of jet fuel and spice, and felt like home.

That alone tugged so sharply at your heart it nearly hurt. Pulling at his bottom lip, you smiled at the guttural moan that he let out. His fingers dug into your waist, his movements becoming bolder as he stepped forward, forcing you back until you hit the bartop.

“Bradley,” you gasped, pulling away to catch your breath.

He groaned, lips trailing down the side of your neck. “I love when you say my name.”

“I say it all the time,” you giggled, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his teeth biting into your skin.

“Not like that.”

Much to your disappointment he pulled away, his lust clouded eyes meeting yours. It was like looking into a damn mirror. Both of you were grasping onto your self-control that seemed to be slipping by the minute. In the end you would lose, but for now whatever remained kept you from doing something stupid like fucking in the middle of Penny’s bar. You wouldn’t have your first time with Bradley take place here.

You’d gone years being apart from each other—you could withstand a few more hours. Only now that the truth was out and you knew how the other felt, a few hours suddenly felt like long excruciating days.

“We have to…” His heady gaze flickered down to your lips, his mouth parting slightly as he heaved in breaths. “We have to talk,” you managed to get out. 

Although you fared no better. You were five seconds away from asking him to take you on top of the bartop, consequences be fucking damned. However, the little annoying part of your conscience reminded you that waiting until you were on a bed would help the situation twenty times more. So, you wrangled what little logic you had left back into your mind and pushed away from him to catch your breath properly.

“I mean…we leave tomorrow.”

“We do.” Glancing at him, you felt your clit practically throb at the sight of darkened eyes watching you like you were his prey. While you had a mental talk with your body about self control and waiting, it seemed he came up with an entirely different outcome on his own.

“Bradley.”

His eyes closed, chest heaving as he took in a deep breath before they opened again and you nearly lost the tight grip you had on your restraint then and there. “If you want to talk kitten I’d refrain from saying my name like that.”

“Oh—” Your brain froze as images flashed through your mind of what you could be doing instead of talking. “I wanted to say…”

Taking a step closer, he grinned at the sight of you trying to form coherent words. “You wanted to say?”

“That…that we need to figure out…um.”

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb running along your bottom lip and pulling at it. “Yeah?”

It hit you suddenly that he was enjoying this. He loved seeing you dumbfounded and unable to speak because of him. Found pleasure in watching his incredibly smart fucking girl go from ripping him a new one to only thinking about one thing. Some part of you loved it too. Which is why when he cooed, brushing his lips across yours, his warm breath washing across your cheek, you crumpled. Dug your hands into his hair and molded yourself against him until you were practically inside of him.

That’s right where you wanted to be. You wanted to dig yourself a small space inside of his heart and remain there until the end of time—stay by his side until it was no longer possible.

His lips caught yours, tongue plunging into your mouth and licking into you. He dragged a moan from you so loud it nearly broke you in two. It was then you realized. The space you wanted in his heart already existed. He’d carved it himself the day you met and he’d been waiting all this time for you to claim it as yours. To finally confirm all his hopes and dreams.

“Not here,” you breathed, keening when he rolled his hips into your stomach, his cock straining against the seam of his pants.

“What?”

Using the very last bit of strength you had, you pulled away, cupping his face and watching his eyes flutter open. “Penny will kill me if I fuck you in her bar.”

That woke him up. “Okay. Yeah,” he breathed. “My place?”

You nodded.

Finally taking a clear breath, you watched him place money under the bottle of whiskey, placing the glasses in the dirty bin beneath the bar and reach for the keys. All the while you tried to focus on following him out of the bar. You still wore your uniform khakis like him, your jacket hanging off the back of the bar stool and he grabbed that too. Warmth spread through your body, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as he took your hand and led you out towards his car.

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but the smile he gave you and the way he squeezed your palm in his, shoved away every doubt you had in your mind. This was more real than anything you’d experienced. You just wished it would remain this way.

“Tell me this will last,” you murmured, stopping him before you could fully get to his car—the vehicle so familiar to you yet entirely brand new. “Tell me that…”

He kissed you quickly, barely a brush of his lips against yours but it was still enough to take the breath from your lungs. “I’ve never been this sure before that this will last.”

“But—”

“You think too much kitten.”

Shoving his shoulder you smiled into the second kiss. “Sometimes I worry you don’t think enough Bradshaw.”

“Ouch.” He walked backwards, taking you with him until his back hit the passenger side door of his car. “If I think too much I get distracted, because you’re always on my mind.”

You laughed, seeing the pride flicker in his eyes at the sight of you giving into his warm embrace, of letting yourself go for the first time in a long time. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Only for you,” he mumbled into the kiss, biting sharply on your bottom lip, smirking at the whine that came from the back of your throat.

Thankfully Penny’s bar wouldn’t take the brunt of whatever Bradley had planned for you. Only you weren’t sure how patient you could be. You wondered if he fared any better than you.

The door swung open, his hand held out to help you in with another chaste kiss to your lips and that’s what did it. Flipped your heart in your chest and solidified the feelings you held for him in your body. Without knowing it he’d ingrained himself in your bones, became the person you needed in your life—the man you wanted.

He got into the driver's seat with ease, a breathless smile on his lips, light in his eyes even though the moon was covered by clouds and the lamps outside were too dim. Bradley always lit up every room he entered. That was a known fact. Yet even tonight as he started the car, pulling out of the lot and heading onto the main streets, you saw the glow that practically emanated from his very being. He was beautiful, a work of art. 

Somehow in the chaos around you, he decided that you were the one he wanted.

“You know I’ve driven this road so many times, but never with you in my car.”

Your lips pulled up into a soft grin. “Does it feel different?”

“Not really but also…yes.”

Glancing out the window you saw the pitch black expanse of the ocean, what few stars that peeked their head out glimmering in the sky. “I should have told you how I felt earlier. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel so different.”

His hand found yours, pulling it to his lips. “I like how this feels. I’m not lonely when you’re here.”

“And what about tomorrow?”

The second the words left your mouth you knew you shouldn’t have asked. Why bring up something that would ultimately ruin the moment? But you had to know. Was this only a temporary fix for the both of you? Or was Bradley all in? He knew how you felt, yet the confirmation of his feelings were still up in the air and you wondered if they would ever land safely on the ground. Maybe they were destined to remain in the clouds, forever a mystery to you.

He took in a deep breath, his eyes going back to the dark road ahead. “I’m not going to leave you baby.”

“You won’t have a choice Bradley.”

“No I mean it,” he replied, fixing you in his gaze as the car rolled to a stop. “I’m in this…for good. We’ll have missions and be apart for a while, but leaving you? That’s no longer an option for me.”

Rather than respond, you turned back to the dark road in an attempt to make out something clear ahead. This was the path you and Bradley were destined for. Whenever you thought about a future with him your mind simply procured nothing but this. Darkness on a once clear path—a jumble of confusion and chaos that would only prolong with you being apart from one another. You wanted to accept his words as truth, to willingly follow him blindly on this road, but you knew…it wouldn’t end the way he hoped.

Heartbreak had always riddled the two of you and it seemed that this would be no different.

He started driving again, somehow sure that nothing blocked the pitch black shadows ahead. Perhaps that’s where you differed. He held hope and you…couldn’t. At least not yet.

Silence filled the car as he continued to drive, his hand still clutching yours in a warm embrace. Both of you traversed the road together until it finally broke away to reveal a street filled with light. Trees lined the sidewalk, their roots breaking open the cement, the branches nearly covering the lamps that stood tall next to them. There weren’t that many homes on this street and you knew from hanging out with them that Payback was across the street, Fanboy next door.

They were so small you weren’t even sure that they would be considered houses, but Bradley seemed to consider this home, his posture relaxing even further as he parked the car. You felt the cold night air seep in through the window, the amber scent of his cologne you knew so well filling your nose. If you could you’d permanently sear it in your mind. Just to be able to remember him clearly at a moment’s notice.

“It’s nice,” you said, taking in the sight of the small white home with a porch that had a single potted plant of white lilies on it by the doorstep.

“Those were my mom’s favorite flowers.”

“They’re beautiful.”

He kissed your palm one last time before dropping it to get out of the car, coming around to your door. Even as you waited all of one minute you felt the anticipation grow thick in the air around you—your nerves leaping beneath your skin, heart pounding with each breath. You only felt this way before missions, the adrenaline coursing through your body in order to counteract the fear. Except this time you had no fear.

Even though you fought with him, tried to pretend that hatred ran deeper than love in your case, you knew him. He was the man who watched as you beat him time and time again in the skies, the man who kept you in his sights lest something go wrong. The man who bought his mother’s favorite flowers to keep a piece of her with him at all times.

You took his hand when he offered it and followed him down the small pathway that was lined with pebbles. Was he as nervous as you were? Did he feel like breathing was both easier and harder around you like you did with him? The steps creaked beneath the weight of both of you and you quickly glanced behind you at Payback and Fanboy’s houses.

“Don’t worry,” Bradley said, catching your attention as he slid the key easily into the lock and pushed the door open. “Payback’s heading home tonight to see his wife one last time before mission orders come through and Fanboy met with a girl at the bar earlier tonight.”

“Isn’t that most nights for Garcia?”

He chuckled, pulling you into the house and shutting the door with his foot. “I hear that it’s the same girl from last month.”

“Looks like somebody finally caught his eye for good,” you replied, looping your arms around his neck, seeking out more of his warmth.

“He’s not the only one.”

Once again, the breath caught in your lungs. “Bradley…”

“I mean it baby,” he breathed, dipping his head down until his lips brushed against yours. “I’ve never been happier than when you walked into me on the first day.”

A memory flared bright in your mind like a lamp being turned on again for the first time. The first day at TopGun you didn’t know anyone—still a fresh faced nervous as fuck newbie. But right as you walked into the room you rammed right into a man who ended up giving you your callsign.

“Where are you heading in a rush?”

You fixed him with a stoic look, ready to challenge him if he tried to pick on you. “Not my fault you were walking out as I was walking in.”

He merely smiled and that’s where the trouble started. “You’ve got to be quick like a cat around here. You know, like a panther.”

The name stuck after that; eventually you grew fond of it, preferring to be called that over anything else. The memory still made you smile even after all those years of fighting. There remained a glimmer of hope in his eyes the day you met, excitement to see what the skies had to offer him. A passion that you saw now as he led you through the house.

“That long?” you asked, feeling his hands grip your hips, sending a pleasurable spark down your spine.

“Always kitten. Always.”

You didn’t need to say anything else, because he’d already said it for you. Years passed, fights happened, but the feelings still remained. A familiar part of your life with him that never truly vanished. Pulling him closer you pressed your lips against his, attempting to spill every little word you couldn’t get out into this one kiss. Somehow he understood.

His hands pulled at your uniform shirt and t-shirt, yanking it up and over your head before coming back to your lips. A gasp left you when his warm palms connected with the bare skin of your stomach. You’d been touched before, but with him this felt like more. There was an understanding between you that this was real, this was what you fought against for so long. He stroked up your sides, his moan being swallowed by your kiss; almost as if he was the one being touched. 

The sound alone went straight to your pussy, the slick you knew was there practically dripped down the inside of your thighs. He reached for the belt of your pants, pulling it off with a swift motion, the metal of the buckle clattering loudly to the floor. Neither of you paid it any mind. You panted into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulder. You were aching for him to touch you, to fill you until you were unable to breathe.

Per your silent request, he popped open the button of your pants, dipping his hand in slowly—the drag of his fingers causing your hips to jolt forward. If you were riled up before that was nothing compared to now. You could feel the shake of your legs as the anticipation curled in your stomach. The need for him clouding everything in your mind until it was simply taken up by thoughts of him. You trembled when he dragged his fingers gently along your slit, a wet moan being pressed into the hollow of his throat.

“Please,” you breathed, unable to hear yourself over the rushing echo in your ears.

You were almost positive that your heart would stop the second he went further, the organ beating erratically in your chest—threatening to pop under the stress. He groaned when his fingers sunk into your slick, sliding the wetness up and along your pussy until the rough pad of his index finger bumped against your clit. A choked moan tore from your throat, your eyes squeezing shut as he focused on that one area, intent on dragging out every manner of sounds from you.

“You’re so wet,” he marveled, his mouth parting with panted breaths.

Glancing up, you felt your stomach swoop at the debauched sight of him. A red stain spread along his cheeks, his lips swollen from you biting them. He turned his gaze to your face, watching your eyelashes flutter with each light press against your clit. His eyes were dark, filled to the brim with lust and a heat began to rapidly spread throughout your body, filling your face with warmth.

No man had ever looked at you the way Bradley did. Shit, you weren’t even sure men looked at you before Bradley. With one single look he rendered you incapacitated to the pleasure that shot through your veins. Your hips canted forward, chasing his fingers every time he pulled away—the desperation for your impending orgasm growing by the second.

Yet something told you he had no intention of making you come this way.

“Baby,” you whined, pressing a spit slicked kiss to his lips.

He shivered, his eyes falling shut for a brief second before opening again. The intense look he gave you back at the bar now back.

“Bedroom,” he grunted, yanking his hand out of your pants and snatching your hand to practically drag you behind him.

Clothes were strewn along the hallway floor with each step closer to the bedroom door. He pulled off his shirts, tossing them to the floor before reaching for his belt. A job you happily assisted him with, your hand wrapping around his leaking cock briefly to get back at him for accidentally edging you.

He sagged against the wall, his head falling back with a thump, mouth dropping open at the feel of you stroking him so tenderly. You felt the hard press of his fingers against your bare hip, the sharp bite of his blunt nails digging into your skin. The pain didn’t even register in your mind. Instead you found yourself lost in the sight of him. His chest shone with a faint sheen of sweat, causing him to glow in the dim lights of his house. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip in order to muffle the whimpered moans leaving him.

All in all he looked ethereal. You were struck by his beauty once more, completely thrown off by the fact that this is what you got to see when he finally gave up control. His hips thrusted up into your hand, his need for a tighter grip on his cock slowly tipping him off the cliff of sanity. But you simply remained. Leaning up, you bit down on his bottom lip, pulling it free from the hold of his teeth and licking at it gently as if to soothe the ache left behind.

“Fuck,” he groaned, eyes finally opening to meet yours.

“I like you like this.”

Part of you wished you hadn’t said the words out loud, because it snapped him back into action. Tugging your hand free from his half open pants, he walked you backwards until you were finally inside his medium sized bedroom. If you had the time to look around you would see a bed so neatly made it would make the general cry, a nightstand with a single lamp, and a desk that held two picture frames on it. The light to his lamp flickered on as he practically slapped his hand on the light switch, his lips and attention occupied with kissing a trail down your chest.

“You’re not gonna give me a tour flyboy?” He paused, his head lifting to see the sly smile creeping along your lips. “Since I’m so special.”

You knew you were intentionally being a little shit, but when you saw the corner of his lips twitch you knew he couldn’t get enough.

“On the bed,” he muttered, pushing his pants down. “Now.”

“Last time I checked you weren’t my superior officer.”

“Kitten,” he growled, pushing down his briefs until they joined his pants in a heap on the floor.

Your eyes fell to his cock that stood against his stomach. A whine escaped you at the sight of it still red and leaking, a pearl of precum forming at the tip. You longed to lick it off, to know what he tasted like, what he felt like on your tongue, and you knew he knew it. The grin he wore was still noticeable even though your attention wasn’t solely on his face.

“You still want that tour?” Swallowing thickly you tried to school your expression, but your reaction already gave you away. He moved closer, his hand coming up to cup your chin before moving to lay flat against your throat. “Hm?”

No words came from your mouth. No words even came to your fucking head. All you could focus on was the thought of his cock and how you ached to have him inside of you. The worst part of it all was that he could tell. He saw it clear as day on your face how needy you were for him and he loved it.

“What’s the matter kitten?” He leaned down, his lips dragging along yours. “Don’t tell me you lost all your words before I’ve fucked you.”

Another whimper echoed in the quiet room, your breathing getting heavier the longer he kept you there in his hold. If you were anyone else you would have given up the ruse and resorted to begging. But you weren’t anyone else and that’s why Bradley wanted you. Meeting his heated stare, you smiled, your eyes fixing him with fucked out look that had his adam’s apple bobbing.

“Oh Bradshaw. We both know you aren’t that good.”

A feral noise ripped from his chest, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pushed you flat against the bed. Despite your feelings for one another, despite the truth finally being set free, there was one thing you and Bradley would never give up on. Winning a fight no matter how small and stupid.

“You can’t stop, can you?” he said, maneuvering your legs until they were spread out, giving him room to lay between them. Even you had to admit that being manhandled by him made you lose it faster than you would have liked.

“Where’s the—ah—the fun in that?”

His hand went back to your throat, teeth biting down on the soft skin of your breasts. Pain sliced through you in a gentle wave, prolonging the pleasure that sparked up your spine. You didn’t want him to stop, your slick practically dripping down onto his sheets.

“Yeah? Fun? Okay kitten. How about you tell me exactly what you’re thinking.”

Your mouth opened, ready to fire back with an array of comments, but Bradley was intent on winning. He always was. His finger delved back in between your thighs, sliding through your slick until they were pressed up against your entrance. One final push and they sunk into your wet heat—a gasp tearing from your throat at the sensation. And he watched as you struggled to breathe let alone get words out.

“Where’s my smart girl?” he asked, taunting you with his smile, his fingers thrusting into you slowly. “C’mon kitten. Use your words.”

All you could get out was a moan, your head falling back into his pillow when his fingers dragged along your walls, his thumb pressing against your clit. Your mind blanked, mouth dropping open the longer he kept going and in the distance you could feel the unfurling sensation you craved once again. It spread rapidly through your body, your hands curling around his biceps to find something to grip onto. You were afraid of floating away and never coming back down.

His lips dragged down your throat, sucking on the skin lightly and scraping his teeth to create the beautiful dichotomy of pain and pleasure you seemed to love. A garbled moan of his name caught his attention, his head raising quickly to see your half open eyes and swollen lips. That seemed to give him the incentive to reduce you to a mess even more.

Groaning, he sped up the thrusts of his fingers, his head ducking down—lips wrapping around your nipple.

“I’m—fuck—Bradley I’m—,” you couldn’t speak, each word more incoherent than the last.

He understood you though. Smiling against your skin, he watched you writhe beneath him. Each gasp from you sounded like music to his ears, a symphony that he would never tire of.

“I’ve got you kitten,” he murmured, kissing up your sternum, his warm breath washing across your skin. “You want to cum?”

You nodded, a broken please falling from your lips. Grinding down on his fingers you felt the breath leave your lungs at the feeling of him pressing even harder on your clit. Sparks shot up your spine, the coil of pleasure winding so tight in you the longer he kept going.

He pressed his lips to yours, his tongue gliding along your bottom lip. “So cum for me.”

The coil snapped, flooding your body with the white-hot debilitating sensation that made your eyes roll back. Crying into his mouth you felt your hips buck into his palm, his thumb still stimulating your clit with small measured strokes. You heard him cuss under his breath, caught the way his eyes were focused solely on your face—memorizing what you looked like. Everything felt like you were underwater, because of how you were drowning in the pleasure, sinking into its warm embrace and begging for more.

“Fuck me,” he breathed, dropping his forehead to yours, kissing you gently while you came back to your senses.

A lazy smile slowly spread across your lips when he pulled back. “I’m trying to Bradshaw.”

He laughed, dropping his face to your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin and sending pleasurable shocks to your clit. “I guess you didn’t cum hard enough if you can still tease me.”

“Teasing you is half the fun baby.”

“Yeah?” His hips grinded into you, eliciting a gasp from you that went straight to his cock that was wedged between your stomach and his.

Before your lips could fully form his first name—the plea following after—he dipped his head down, scraping his teeth along your chin. Dragging your leg up and around his hip, he lined his cock up, sliding it through your slick folds. A moan was pressed to your lips, a shiver wracking his body at the feeling of your cum and his precum mixing together and spreading around his cock. You tugged sharply at his hair, curling your arm around his back, digging your nails into the skin.

“Fuck kitten you’re so wet,” he choked, pressing into your slowly and nearly falling over you when you clenched around him. “So fucking tight.”

“Oh—” Your hips pressed down, nails scraping up his back in an effort to latch onto him.

The stretch of his cock sent a pleasurable burn through you, words dying on your tongue with each small thrust he pressed into you. You ached to have him fill you until nothing remained, until you were connected to him with no space left. The familiar building sensation began again, steadily driving you mad. With a final moan of your name, he pushed into you, his hips meeting yours.

“Shit,” he gasped, digging his fingers into your thigh in order to bring himself back to the ground. 

He remained still, his breaths coming out in pants, but you weren’t as patient. Moaning you grinded into him—your eyes fluttering shut; you’d never felt so full before. His hands shifted to still the movements of your hips, a choked growl you’d never heard him make echoing around you. He looked wrecked. His hair was wild from you running your hands through it, a glazed look in his eyes that you could only categorize as feral.

There were no words exchanged between you, but he could tell what you needed. Without warning he pulled out until only the tip remained, slamming back into you and grinning when you shouted in ecstasy. The pace wasn’t gentle; it took you apart piece by piece, promising to give you the end you ached for.

Sobbing into the sloppy kiss that spread spit down your chin which he leaned over to lick off, you felt the pressure build and build and build. You couldn’t think, could barely get breath into your lungs fast enough before it was punched out each time he thrust back into you. The drag of his cock along your walls was delicious. Sending sparks down your legs as your heels dug into his ass.

His hand dropped down to your clit, fingers rubbing in time with his thrusts. You didn’t have a chance to warn him before your pussy clamped down around his cock, a hoarse cry coming from you.

“Fuck baby.” His eyes screwed shut, head tilting back to stave off the painful ache of his body wanting to give in. You felt his hips stutter, his hands digging into your sides as he fought against cumming right then and there.

The sight of his neck stretched out and on display for you was too enticing to look away. Lifting your head you licked along the prominent vein that stood out on his skin—his eyes snapping back to yours when your teeth followed the trail you just made. That same sound echoed in your ears, the reminder that Bradley was so far gone he could barely remember his own name. Sitting up, he dragged your body forward, your legs spreading even further until he could clearly see your cum leaking out around his cock.

Heat spread up your face when he moved, the echo of your slick spreading along his cock ringing in the room. Normally you would have felt embarrassed, but the sight of his eyes darkening, his mouth dropping open slightly, washed away those feelings instantly.

“You hear that kitten?” He spread your cum on his fingers, bringing them to his mouth—his eyes shutting at the taste of you on his tongue. Bradley had half a mind to pull out and devour you, but there would be time for that later. “That’s cause of me.”

A weak moan was all you could get out.

That was enough for him.

Once more he started with a pace that quickly built up the already familiar pressure in your lower body. You wouldn’t be able to say how he shoved you to the edge so fast with just a few movements. It was like he had possession over your body. Telling it what to do when; each thrust sending you spiraling into the pit of overwhelming pleasure. Gasping, you tried to match his speed, but you couldn’t.

“Bradley!” you cried. Your nails scratched so hard along his back you were positive it would leave marks come morning. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Not when he gripped your leg and yanked it over his shoulder, thrusting into you so roughly you were shoved up the bed.

“That’s it kitten,” he grunted, his voice barely audible over the slapping of skin against skin and the wet squelch of your pussy. “Come on. Give me one more.”

Shifting the angle of his hips, he struck gold—a sharp keening wail bouncing off the walls of his small home. His head shot up, eyes meeting yours as a blinding smile spread across his lips. He could listen to the sounds you made all fucking day if it meant he was the one inside of you and like a madman seeking his prize, he sped up. His cock pounded into you, hitting your g-spot with so much precision you would have thought he was hitting a target that was assigned to him.

Your toes curled over his shoulders, the pleasure mounting in your body so high that it made your vision blurry, but you forced yourself to watch him. To see the sweat practically drip from his face as his lust clouded eyes bored into yours. He panted with every thrust, baring his teeth and still fighting against his own release, because he wanted to see you fall apart around his cock again. He needed to feel it.

His name was like a prayer on your lips and with a final devastating thrust, you shattered.

Clawing at his back, you felt your legs shake, the pressure snapping in two and drowning you entirely. Your back arched off the bed with the force of your orgasm—a sobbed out scream piercing your ears.

He collapsed over you, his lips pressing roughly against yours as he moaned your name, his body shaking while he finally let go. You felt the warmth of his cum spurt into you and practically spill out around his cock. Your hands still gripped onto any part of him you could reach, because you needed him even closer. Fuck you needed him to press you into the bed with the full weight of his body and seemed to understand you.

Letting go, he dropped fully, a small oof coming from you when the air was pushed out of your lungs. The sound made him smile.

Neither of you moved, fully content in staying wrapped up in one another while you kissed. The taste of you still remained on his tongue, creating a heady thrill up your spine, your pussy clenching around him when he licked deeply into your mouth. He grunted, his hips shifting—the overstimulation too much for either of you. Eventually you’d have to move in order to clean up, but for now you couldn’t.

Giving up this feeling, this small moment of peace was too heartbreaking to bear it just yet.

“Where are you being sent to?” you asked, watching his fingers twine with your own.

For two hours you’d been laying in his arms while you talked about anything and everything. There was so much to catch up on and yet so little you didn’t already know about one another. You learned things over the years here and there. Like how Bradley favored cookies over cake, how he always came to classes attempting to present the best version of himself. How he would duck his head and smile softly whenever someone gave him a compliment.

You knew this man just as he knew you. Yet there was still so much to find out.

“I’ll learn tomorrow,” he murmured, pressing his cheek to your head. Your legs were twinged together, mimicking your fingers and you suddenly realized…you’d never been this comfortable before. “How about you?”

“I don’t know,” you said, knowing it was a lie. He didn’t know about your change of plans yet.

You knew if you told him now the moment you had would shatter like broken glass.

“We’ll find ways to make this work.” He said with so much certainty it twisted your heart, pain spreading through your chest. “I know it.”

“I’d like that,” you breathed, afraid that if you said the words any louder he’d see right through you.

How could you tell him that you were rethinking everything you worked so hard to have? How could you break his dreams of being with you like that? It was selfish of you to do this, to keep him in the dark, but the doubt still clouded your sense of clarity. So you simply remained quiet, allowing him to pull you closer to him, his face pressed into the back of your neck. Until you heard him begin to snore softly, each puff of breath hitting your skin.

You wanted to remember this moment, burn it into your mind, because you weren’t sure if you’d ever get it again. Loving Bradley was like loving the skies. You’d do anything to join him up there, to be enveloped wholly in his warmth, yet you’d never get to stay. He was the clouds you longed to be a part of, the skies that called to you like a siren song.

But eventually, like every other pilot…you’d have to land back on solid ground one way or another.

Turning slowly you watched him sleep, saw the way his eyelids fluttered as he began to dream, and you imagined a future with him. Would you write letters to one another? Call whenever you could? Or would you constantly be in a state of longing for the man who you could never really call yours. Both of you would be gone for who knows how long, barely getting to see one another.

Though you hated the truth, you couldn’t ignore it. What you would share would break both of you in two, creating a rift so large that mending it wouldn’t be possible. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, savoring in their plush softness before you pulled away. He shifted when you sat up and for a moment you wished he would wake up, just so you could see his eyes one last time.

The wood floors creaked under your bare feet, your clothes strewn through the house, and you gathered all of them—getting dressed quickly. He remained asleep, his head turned towards the pillow you were on, arm stretched across the bed as if reaching for you, the sheets wrapped around his waist. And you ingrained that single image in your mind.

Shutting the door gently, you shivered when the biting cold of the morning air stung your cheeks. You stood there for a moment, watching the skies begin to turn the usual light blue shade as the sun rose, and for a moment you thought about going back inside. You wondered what waking up with him would be like.

The potted plant still remained by your feet, the white petals delicate and frail. You smiled bitterly, thinking that this plant in all its beauty was the embodiment of your relationship to Bradley. Though you both wanted it…it still remained breakable in the end.

Never strong enough to remain in the end.

You sighed, watching your breath form in the air, and stepped off his porch. Heading back to a harsh reality that no longer included Bradley.

Or so you thought…

#bradley bradshaw x f!reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #top gun: maverick #my writing

[boxofbonesfic]

i will be here for all ur future chubby bucky needs bc he makes the world go round 😭😭 as far as the first date with them goes i’m literally ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 he would be so nervous but so endearing and charming and she’d fall for him instantly, but he’s still sore from his last relationship and has a hard time w self love so there’s lots of reassurance and compliments and bucky being a lil flustered and overwhelmed w the attention and just 😭❤️‍🩹 no thoughts head empty; chubby bucky ONLY

seriously if u ever find time/want to delve into chubby bucky more i will be there in a mf FLASH

chubby!Bucky is love, chubby!Bucky is life 🥺

FIRST DATE DRABBLE LETS GOOOOOOOO

he’s all nervous about their first date, can’t even believe she’ll show up.

How’d I fuckin’ get this lucky? Bucky thinks that every time he sees your name in his phone. He can’t believe you agreed to a date in the first place, but he’s not going to jinx his luck. You’re so beautiful, you’re the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.

Which is why he’s holding up shirt after shirt in front of the mirror, trying to decide which one you’ll like best. Hell, he’ll be lucky if you even show up at all. He has to have imagined the enthusiastic “Yes!” that left your lips almost before he’d even finished asking you out, with Steve giving him two huge thumbs-up behind your back.

When he finally arrives at the restaurant—thirty minutes early—he waits for you eagerly at the bar. But when his thirty minutes early turn into your thirty minutes late, he finishes the whiskey the bartender gave him out of pity, and stands up. No sense in wasting any more time. You’re clearly not coming, and he shoves down the disappointment. Of course you wouldn’t. He makes for the exit, grabbing his coat, when suddenly—

“Bucky!” You’re panting, your hands on your knees. You look up at him, and he sees sweat gathered at your hairline. “W-wait! I—fuck—train was delayed, stop closed by my house!” you pant. His eyes widen, and he feels disbelief wash away the hurt.

You’d gotten stuck on the train.

Bucky leads you back to the bar, and you apologize again, reaching for his hand. “I didn’t want to miss this.”  His chest tightens again, but this time, it’s for an entirely different reason.

It’s the best date of his life.

He can’t think of anything that would even compare. He takes the train home with you, just to make sure you get there safe, and you let him hold your hand the whole way, his fingers threaded through yours.

“You were in the military?” You ask, cocking your head at him. Your eyes stray to the dog tags still visible under his shirt, and he pulls them out for you to see.

“Yeah, Sergeant.” He doesn’t like to brag about his service, doesn’t really see the valor or the honor in it, he was a scared kid who’d done what he thought he had to—and come home missing an arm for his trouble. But you don’t ever stare at the arm, you don’t ask him about it. It’s just…a part of him you don’t question.

It’s nice.

You let him walk you up to your front door, twirling your har around your finger. “I had a really good time tonight, Bucky.”

“I did too,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with the metal hand. “And, well, I know, maybe its forward of me, but—shit—I was thinking maybe we could, another time I mean—” he can’t stop rambling, staring at the stone awning over your head as his cheeks heat. He’s not prepared for you to wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down to your face. He’s even less prepared when your soft lips brush against his. You’re so warm and soft against him, and then he’s kissing you back.

He pulls you against him with a moan, crushing you to his chest. You let out this little mewl and his knees go weak, but he can’t stop. He doesn’t stop until you’re pressed against your own door, his leg wedged between your own. Bucky comes back to himself then, apologies rising in his throat.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m—I’ll go—” He’s gone too far, there’s no way this is what you intended. He’s already trying to detangle himself from you when you giggle.

“I would love to see you again, Bucky.”

#bones drabbles #boxofbones drabbles #boxofbonesfic #bones hc #ask the bones #chubby!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #fluff

[atalldrinkofcaprisun]

Don’t Wait For Me After I’m Gone (pt. 3)

silco x reader - fix-it fic

Well this is getting a lot more indepth than i was intending. This is a filler bit. Larger plot on the horizon (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ ~theo (edited with a rewrite so its better xoxox)

MASTERPOST - pt1 - pt2 -

The streets were filled with people, whispering amongst themselves, looking towards the billows of smoke rising from Piltover’s Tower, sirens sounding in the far distance. Silco tried to keep his head down, but when one is a 6’ 4” public figure you tend to draw attention. A couple of people even called out to the pair of you, asking, what was going on or “Has the time come?” or “What the fuck happened to you?”

He ignored them and leaned on you, no one followed you however and you made it to The Last Drop just as your back felt like it was going to give out. Sevika met you at the door, taking Silco’s weight from you as best she could with only one arm, “My office.” The kingpin ordered and Sevika headed off without question, and you followed behind, only looking over your shoulder to close the door.

As the three of you made your way up the stairs, more and more underlings began to congregate at the foot of them, watching Silco’s retreating form. Whispers began again, but this time you weren’t having it. With a sharp shout you turned, “Alright listen up.

“We’re taking our freedom. Zaun belongs to us and we are going to prove to every topsides who’s ever spit at us, every Piltover Prick who deemed us inferior while making us haul them off their asses by our tears and blood. If they see us as monsters, then make them fear the monsters. Be prepared. Spread the word. We’ll let you know what comes next.” You square your shoulders and hear the stairs creek, eyes all around the room flicked up above you towards the sound.

You turned as well to meet ice and flame boring into your soul with a deep, stable and utterly abiding pride. He was proud of you. You could see it in the way he didn’t look as weak anymore. And there, just beneath it but just as fierce and consuming as it always had been, that softness that you knew from quiet moments in the early morning or late night paperwork with the yellow lamp light and colorful neon. Love. You wanted to drown in it. Let every single other moment melt away until it was just you and him and how much you loved him.

He broke your gaze first, turning towards his supporters, “You heard them.” Eyes still stared, “Sevika, if you wouldn’t mind?” He said in a very hushed tone, letting the wall rebuild and The Eye of Zaun settled back on his shoulders, before continuing up the stairs. You turned as well and walked up the last few steps to the sound of astonished silence.

You all turned down the long overhanging hallway without a word. The moment he was convinced they’d be too far away for anyone to hear, he tapped Sevika’s shoulder twice and she stopped again, allowing him to look at you, “That was absolutely perfect, darling. You’re a natural,” his voice was still quiet, but it sounded much stronger than it had been yet and you winked, “born to lead.”

“I learned from the best, sweet cheeks.”

He let out a soft laugh, just under his breath, “I don’t think it’s you doing the learning, dear heart.”

You slid past the pair of them and pushed open the office door, “C’mon. Jinx needs us.”

“Jinx? Are you looking for her?” Sevika asked, glancing between you and your partner.

“Yes. We assumed she would have gone to her hidden room… Did she come through?”

“N-no… nobody’s seen her since we moved you to Singed’s dump,” the right-hand frowned “She’s lost?”

Your gaze matched Silco’s for a moment before he turned back to the scarred woman, “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“No… that can’t be right…” Silco’s voice turned to the one that he didn’t always know wasn’t internalized thinking, “She should have come back here.”

“What Jinx should do and what she ends up doing is rarely the same thing,” You sighed. Normally it was endearing, “I saw her leave Singed’s. She told me I’d ‘know where to find her.’ So I assumed it was her room she would go to as well.” You frowned, looking down at your shoes as you moved forward into the office, allowing them in as your mind began to card through as many possibilities as you could think.

She could have gone to the old arcade, but no, she hated that place. She might have wandered to the fisher crevasses but no, even more unlikely. You all needed to find Jinx as soon as possible, if not only to keep her safe from Piltover, but to make sure she was alright. Something had set her off to the point that she had harmed Silco. Had killed him… He hadn’t talked about it yet, and you hadn’t felt like asking. You weren’t sure what could have possibly been involved beyond what you could blearily remember from the factory, and your encyclopedia dé Jinx that you’d carefully cultivated in your mind. Violet, her sister. The only thing that was a constant source of upset. Silco wouldn’t settle until he knew his daughter was safely back under his protection.

Where could she have gone!?

“Leave us, please Sevika. Thank you. The Children of Zaun need to feel strong, can you do that for me, old friend?” Silco asked as Sevika stood to her full height after helping Silco onto the couch, “And take the best, Ziggy and Scratch should do if Dustin and Ren are occupied elsewhere, search for any word about Jinx. I want to know if so much as a sparkler goes off and who lit the flame.”

“You got it boss.” She nodded before heading to the door, stopping at your side, “Thank you, for saving him.”

“Of course. I love him,” the words tumbling off of your lips with the ease of wind across an ocean, and just as much potential to become a hurricane if you weren’t careful.

“Good. He deserves someone who will put up with his ass.” She smirked, walking out and back down to the bar, “ZIG! SCRATCH! Let’s go!”

You closed the door behind her and finally, you felt a single spark of safety flutter down your throat and into your stomach. It burned warm and full in your chest and up into your face. You turned to see Silco. He had pushed himself into a sitting position with hardly a sound, despite how sore his overworked muscles must be. He was slumped over, compact in one hand, his damaged eye cupped over with the other, “Sil…?” You spoke gently, crossing the creaking wooden floor.

He looked up as if he had forgotten you were even there, the genuine surprise etched across the lines along his forehead and at his temples. The world returned to him and his face slipped into one of fear. Not terror… it was a way Jinx sometimes looked when she felt like she was going to be in trouble or left behind. With uncharacteristic reluctance, his hand fell to reveal the new shade of The Eye Of Zaun. Iridescent purple, “I’m different.”

You sat next to him, careful to not move him too much, and gently brought your hands up. He visibly tensed, and you were thrown to the first time you had done this. He was scared of what you were going to say. You had seen the process happening, and it was probably temporary. You shook your head brushing your fingers across his cheekbones. Silco was asking for acceptance, “A little bit, but Sil, you survived.” He relaxed more as your other hand moved up to smooth back his hair into the usual place, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I love you for the man you are, not what you look like. Mind you, I love the way you look, it drives me insane. Annoying when you’re trying to focus on keeping you from working to your grave.” You laughed at the way he was melting into you like a spoiled house cat, “You are not lesser because we’re going to have to possibly rethink our aesthetics. You’re my Silco, the man who protects me and our child with every little bit of himself, even if it,” a pause as the reality you had narrowly avoided flashed in your mind, “even if it kills him. I love you. What matters is you’re alive. Jinx may be missing, but we’ll find her, or she’ll come home, just like she always does,” You sighed, “And we’re going to be okay. All three of us.”

He didn’t seem comfortable, but the tension wasn’t going to suffocate him. He gently covered your hand with his own and allowed his eye to close, the other looking downwards, “What would become of me without you?” His smile was completely exhausted.

“You’ll never need to know. I’ll always be here.” You promised, kissing down the ridge of his nose twice before pressing your lips to his, “always.”

#silco x reader #dontwaitformeafterimgone.series

[isolated-bug]

Arcane Fanfic Recommendations #2: The Undoing

As promised i will be creating a post for each fanfic i personally enjoyed. If you are a writer and you dont see me refer your fanfic, its likely because i havent read it or it deviates from my interests. These referrals are in no way intended to say that other fics are bad and are just a way of me promoting fics i loved! I find all of my fanfics on AO3.

My fanfic interests are generally something that could be believably canon or at least where the characters actions and behaviors read like canon. I also look for a lot of fics of the between Act1 and Act2. And i love me some Timebomb but im not into smut so you wont find that... flavor.. of fic here. My other focus interests are on Jinx/Silcos  father/daughter relationship or Jinx character explorations in general. So those are the types of recommendations you will see from me. I will try to remember to copy/paste this in front of each post

Im going to start with multi chapter/piece works. So things that are ongoing series, have chapters, or are in a collection by the same author.

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

This next one is a series of one offs in a collection called “The Undoing”.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2626753 by AO3 authors reinersbigtits and the_author_anonymous

It currently has 3 works in it accumulating roughly around a 7500 word count presently. 

These fics explore the time between Act1 and Act2 exploring the growth (and fluff) of Powder/Jinx’s relationship with Silco. Two of the three fics definitely aim for canon compliant.

The first fic in the collection “The Simple Undoing of a Gentle Man” https://archiveofourown.org/works/35274871 is written by reinersbigtits from Silco’s perspective as a young Powder comes to him having woken in fear from nightmares. Its some adorable fluff and i absolutely love it.

The next fic in the collection “The Intricacies of Trust” https://archiveofourown.org/works/35283115 is written by the_author_anonymous is also written from Silco’s perspective and explores an injury causing difficulty in using his injection. This explores the idea of how Jinx became the person administering his eye medicine. There is some cute and fucking accurate father/daughter banter between the two and it flows so very well!

The last fic in the collection “The Pathology of Caring” https://archiveofourown.org/works/35558593/chapters/88646131 is also written by the_author_anonymous and is the bulk of the collection at a staggering 5k words. It is a completed multi-chapter work in itself. Also from Silco’s perspective, this fic explores recognizing the depth, to some degree, of Jinx’s mental illness. This fic is the non-canon compliant one among the bunch, so keep that in mind when reading. But, that aside, while it definitely has some darker undertones there is also a lot of gushy fluff so be prepared for emotions to occur. I think my favorite part in this is how Silco decides to approach getting Jinx some help. I laughed so hard and re-read the related interactions over and over.

#arcane fanfic #arcane #jinx #silco #fluff #give these authors some lovin

[fandom-collective-writers]

a two player game | obey me | leviathan

title | a two player game fandom | obey me! character | leviathan genre | smut, mild comedy? (situational)  warnings | includes sexual activities kinks | tentacles, bondage, suspension, sensory deprivation intended gender audience | female pov | second word count | 2869 words (haha, 69)  written by | @mythiica requested by | @jennacat84​ other comments | i return, and ofc it’s with smut. this turned out pretty well! there’s more banter than usual and i had a grand time writing it

“And what are you doing with this game~?” 

It’s an innocent enough question until Leviathan tips his head back to glance at the game in question. 

“How did you sneak hentai into the House of Lamentation? I would have expected Lucifer to have some anti-porn devil dog to confiscate these types of things.” Your fingers are perfectly curled over the main character’s lewd expression as she’s ravaged by… tentacles. 

“Uh–” 

You smile slyly and drape your arms over his shoulders as the blush settles across his cheeks. 

“I got it as part of a promotion. People pay me to review games, y’know.” It’s the best excuse he can give really, but he is at fault for not hiding it better. “Now give it here so I can put it inside of my desk. If Mammon finds this, I’ll hear about it for the next century.” Leviathan paws at the box, but you hold it just out of reach. 

“You haven’t opened it.” “It’s a two player game.” “You plus me equals two.”

Leviathan laughs a bit and scratches the back of his neck. “Very perceptive. You don’t even know what the game is about.” 

“Play as Haru or control the tentacle monster that has her locked up in its underwater dungeon. Win the game by resisting the orgasms or by bringing the second player to their knees,” you read from the back of the case. “Sounds easy enough. Wouldn’t it be funny if you were getting pegged by tentacles though, and I was the one to control them?” 

Levi finally manages to swipe the game from your hand and sets it down on a stack of papers. “You’re into that? I think we skipped over that in last week’s kink-meeting.” The demon laughs at his own joke. (There had not, in fact, been a kink meet between the two of you, but it makes you giggle as well.)

“You never asked! I’d be down to try it with you.” 

His nose brushes against yours gently and his hand finds yours. As Levi’s fingers lace with yours, you reach for the box with your opposite hand, click it open, ignore the surprised hey! and hold on tight so that the game absorbs the two of you. 

Maybe you jinxed it when you teased Levi about getting pegged, because now you’re the one bound and half suspended in the air. When you try to move your wrist, the kelp-like ties around your wrist only grow tighter. “Kinky,” you mutter under your breath. 

There’s a loud crashing sound outside of your cell, but it is quickly followed by Levi’s familiar voice. He looks damn good as a merperson: dark purple hair floats just above his shoulders, an iridescent tail, and of course (likely the best scene of them all) his more-than-usual pronounced abdominal muscles flecked with purple scales. 

“Finally! I found you– I’ve been going through this maze for ages, just looking for you.” 

“Did you miss the sign that says ‘human sex prisoner here’? Maybe turn the neon lights on.” 

This earns a laugh from Leviathan before he leans against a pillar. “You look good,” he comments, checking you out in the same manner you had. When your face turns into a quizzical frown, Levi fetches one of the mirrors on the other side of the room. Upon holding it up, you realize he’s not entirely wrong. You are sporting a half ripped bikini top (calling it meager would be generous) and a sheer skirt that hangs from your hips. 

“Are we underwater?” 

“Technically, yes– at least according to the game we’re meant to be. Don’t question things too much, this game is still in its beta stages.” He pushes his bangs back and fusses with one of his gold rings. 

“Oh, I see.” You continue to hang in place. “...What now?” 

Leviathan lifts a hand. “Well… you read the instructions. Either you cum and I win, or you hold out and win.” 

It takes a moment before you hear similar crashing noises. Swallowing hard, you turn your head back and see shadows darting around in the shadows. Finally, they emerge into the light: tentacles. They’re not attached to anything in particular. In fact, you can’t tell where they have come from, but your attention is quickly pulled back towards Levi. 

He grasps your chin with one hand and smiles almost devilishly. “Y’know, I was going to be nice, but you were so cocky that I think I’ll just edge you and make you cum.” Levi has the ability to control these tentacles, and suddenly, you’re being held in place by said appendages rather than the kelp bindings. 

“So, what, you’re going to take meme with your fancy new toys?” 

One of the limbs climbs up your right leg, pulling your thighs apart. It doesn’t feel sticky in particular, but you can’t help but yelp at the sharp sensation of cold air hitting your now semi-exposed cunt. You yelp meekly and try to keep your legs closed, but there is no way you can overpower the tentacles. 

Levi makes his way over to you and brushes his fingers over your collarbone. “Hm.. I think I will. This will be entertaining, no?” He lowers his head slightly to press a kiss to your lips. “Tell me if it hurts, alright? There might be some glitches because of the game.” 

You’re not entirely sure how he’s controlling the tentacles, but before you can manage a response, one begins to prod at your entrance. It’s cold and sticky, but makes you moan nonetheless. “Levi!” 

“What, did you orgasm just from that? I’m only testing things out.” 

“Get on with it–” 

“Oh? Gladly..” Levi covers your eyes with his hand and keeps the other at your jaw. Driven by a seemingly animalistic urge, he presses his hips against yours while stealing wet kisses from your lips. The tentacle moves in sync with Levi’s motions: every body roll translates to a languid stroke from the extra appendage. When he captures your nipple with two fingers, a suction cup finds your clit and pulls at it teasingly. 

It’s a plethora of sensations, all at once, and is almost overwhelming. You’re being ravaged by Leviathan and his tentacles at the same time, but the worst part is that you can’t even see his beautiful expression as he wrecks you. How could anyone last in a game like this? 

Saliva dribbles from your swollen lips and you open your mouth to say something, call his name– anything to warn him that your underwater tryst might come to an end faster than you could have anticipated. 

A pathetic moan rolls off your tongue, but it’s cut short when something smacks your ass. Another tentacle?! How many are there?! 

Not that you could count them, even if you wanted to, because Levi keeps his hand firmly over your eyes. It’s torture at this point, feeling every little thing and listening to the intense lewd sounds, but not being able to see them. 

“Levi,” you whine with desperation. “I can’t see– I want to see you.” 

“Eh?” He moves his hand back, and you nearly squeal with delight at his expression. Leviathan is blushing more than usual, as if he’s feeling pleasure from what the tentacles are doing to you. “Better? Does it hurt?” 

You shake your head. “You’re so cute…” 

“Cute?” Levi huffs. “I’m fucking you with tentacles made of pixels and you call me cute?” Now he laughs a bit and a few suction cups stick to your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. “I can’t do you anally though, that’s Level 2.” 

Now you’re the one laughing, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes, I actually am. No matter who wins, with each level increase, more toys and positions are unlocked. That’s kind of smart actually.” 

“But Levi, don’t you want to put your tentacle in my ass?” 

This makes him shiver, and you know what the answer is. Regardless, it seems like any attempts to make the tip of the tentacle get closer to your second hole, nothing happens. With a pensive sigh, your hips meet the side of his tail so that you’re grinding on both Levi and the tentacle simultaneously. “This will have to do.” 

Up until this moment, the tentacles hadn’t actually entered you, but instead danced around your hole and focused on your clit. However, your momentary leap of authority gives him a figuratively boner, since he doesn’t technically have a visible dick. It might be in his tail somewhere… but you aren’t about to ask where he’s hiding his cock. That would be weird. 

“Hey Levi?”

He grunts back in response, obviously focused on other things. 

“Do you think you can penetrate me? I’m sure you’ll win if you do–”

“It’s not as easy as you think– I have to give each thing something to do or my stats drop.” “You have stats?!” You lean back slightly and eye Leviathan. 

“Yeah, just flex your palm.” You give Levi a flat stare. “It’s kind of difficult to do that when my wrists are bound.” 

The tentacle holding your right hand releases slightly, giving you enough room to do as he’s suggested. A small screen appears in front of you. “Moaning level 2, cockwarming level 1– wait I can change the size of my breasts?!” 

Levi pauses for a moment long enough to look at the small screen. “Oh, yeah, I had dick options too, but I didn’t mess with them yet.” 

This makes you blink a few times in astonishment, thinking that this game is far more complicated than the first one you played. You want to look through the menu more and see what other things you can do– your mind drifts to the actual purpose of the game. Could there be a power up that would help you resist the tentacles? 

Before you can continue scrolling, the slick sound of something penetrating you fills your ears. He’s done what you’ve asked him to, and is absolutely merciless about it. Now that Levi’s found a way to fuck you hard, he’s not going to let up any time soon. In fact, chances are that he won’t stop until the Congratulations, you’ve made your bitch cum screen pops up over his head, if that’s even how the game works. 

A string of curses fly off your tongue, meant to be praises than anything else, but you don’t hear your own voice. “Why don’t it let me say ----?!” you screech, dragging your fingernails across Levi’s bare shoulders. “I just wanna moan for you, Levi–” 

“Curse words are censored, but that’s stupid, I don’t know why. Is it possible you changed the settings?” 

You’re frustrated now because, now you’ve finally accepted that you’re his and the stupid game won’t let you call out for him. It’s not a problem for very long though, because the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. A burning sensation ignites your entire body now, and your mind can’t anchor a single coherent thought for more than a few moments at a time. 

The strangest thing: it actually feels like he’s the one fucking you. Not the tentacles, but rather, it feels the same as if Leviathan were fucking you in his bed. This makes you happy, so happy that saliva begins to dribble down your chin as the inevitable pressure of an orgasm starts to fill your lower abdomen. You arch your back in such a way that the bikini straps give away, releasing your breasts from the fabric. 

Next thing you know, you’re subconsciously grinding against the biggest tentacle– the one fucking your mercilessly– in search for more delicious friction for your clit. At this point, it doesn’t matter who wins or loses, you just really want to cum and see if those tentacle things of his will splurt out some cum. 

“Levi–”

“Hm?” His lips dance over the crook of your neck, and the last thing you need now is for him to suddenly decide to be all daddy-merman. You bet anything that his tongue is wetter than your pussy is right now, and the way his teeth graze over your skin–

And then you’re cumming. 

Something breaks inside of you, and then it feels as though you’re drowning but breathing at the same time. Is it part of the game? Is this what a simulated orgasm feels like? Your body pulsates like never before and you understand the appeal of sex games. Another moment passes and your mind goes blank, but only for a second because you feel the budding warmth of seed running down your legs. 

So the tentacles can cum.

You manage to find the minimal strength it takes to just open your eyes, and you’re met with Leviathan’s beautiful expression as he crashes down from his high as well. He freezes for a split second, almost as if the game is glitching or overloading from the sheer impact of both orgasms taking place. You pray that he remains like this for just a bit longer, giving you the chance to lean your head against his chest. 

Levi’s skin is soft, but covered with a thin, inexplicable film of perspiration. If anything, it just makes you giddy again, but you’re not sure that either of you could last for Level 2 in this sorry condition. Running your tongue over his pronounced clavicle, you nip the skin there and suck on it just as he buffers for a moment and releases a painfully loud moan. 

His heart thunders loudly, echoing in your ears. It’s the only thing you can hear until his hand lands on your cheek. “Are you okay?” Leviathan’s voice grounds you, and then you realize that the tentacles are no longer in sight, but have retreated into the shadows the first emerged from. 

“Yeah… but I think you froze for a second there– we should do it again, y’know, to make sure we can review the game correctly.” 

This makes him laugh. The beautiful sound prompts a giggle from you as well, so you throw your arms around his neck for a tight hug. It doesn’t really matter that your skirt has magically disappeared, you’re pleased with the experience. 

A screen flashes in front of the two of you, but you’re actually surprised to see the congratulations message. 

“We both lost?!”

“How? I made you cum.” 

You read the small print: “Haru successfully made the sea monster cum first, but unfortunately succumbed to the tentacles.” With a huff, you scroll through and read the extended audit log of your ‘underwater’ sex adventure with Levi. “That’s bull----! Ugh! I still can’t ----ing curse!” 

Levi shushes you gently before brushing your hair back and offering you a consolation kiss. He taps the ‘return to main screen’ button, and the two of you are transported back to the real world. 

Nothing’s changed since you left: in fact, it’s only been a few minutes, according to the clock on Levi’s nightstand, that you even opened the game in the first place. Before you can say anything, Leviathan closes the box and throws it into the desk drawer. “No more hentai games for you. I need a cold shower and something to eat after that.” 

You stretch and massage your wrists. Although there is no physical evidence of the bindings, you can sure as hell feel where his tentacles kept you in place. Disappointed though, your eyes follow the outline of Levi’s body, happy to see that his normal legs have returned… with a third, very aroused, appendage sitting comfortably between the two of them. 

“Levi~” 

“Yeah?” 

“Two things. One, give it a good review, but say that I need to be able to curse when I cum.” 

He raises an eyebrow, but then nods. “And the second thing?” 

Now, you’re smiling and reaching for the bulge in his pants. “I think you need a second orgasm to take care of this, no? But no game– this one, I’ll give it to you and make sure it’s real.” 

Levi just swallows and shoos you away, calling you silly and that he doesn’t have any energy for that because he knows you’ll leave him an absolute mess. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction though, because now he’s both painfully hard and blushing brighter than a virgin on a windy day. 

“Hey Levi?” 

“What is it now?” 

You just smile and wave your hand. “No, it’s nothing like that– I was just thinking, maybe next time we’ll be in reversed positions. Wouldn’t that be fun?” 

He contemplates this for a second. “Why, you want to try and win?” 

“Well yeah!” “In your dreams, Haru.”

“I was really worried you’d moan the in game character’s name instead of mine. That would have been awkward as hell.” 

Levi extends his arm, offering you a place to sit on his lap. “I wouldn’t do that. But let’s keep this between the two of us for now. Okay?” 

You nod and nestle against his chest. Regardless of who the game declared, or didn’t, the winner, you like to think that both of you won. At least for a moment.

. 

#obey me! #obey me leviathan #Obey Me Levi #obey me fanfic #obey me smut #leviathan #leviathanobeyme #shall we date #leviathan smut #otome #xreader #leviathan x reader #obey me x reader

[piracytheorist]

I've heard from people who play League of Legends (I haven't played it, I just know some of the lore) that if you know the game, you can appreciate some of the Easter Eggs Arcane has hidden, but the overall story is it's own thing.

That being said, I would be interested to hear your thoughts on LoL's animation, Annie. It's one of the coolest animated stories I've seen, and someone in the comments called it the prototype Arcane.

Huh. Yeah, I did check a bit on the LoL wiki, and it looks like Vi and Jinx didn't have much of a known backstory before Arcane came out. So it looks like they made it its own thing to fit in the entire lore... so still I feel like we're missing characterization from Jinx. Maybe Jinx was already popular as the Murder Kitten she was in the later episodes, and they wanted to add a backstory to her, but weren't sure how to show her transition from a young, insecure orphan who depended a lot on her bigger sister for emotional connection (and bless her soul, Vi tried so hard), into a girl in her late teens ready to blow up and shoot down anyone or anything that stands in her way or just because she felt like it. So they just took her from 0 to 100 from one episode to the next and went like "That's the Jinx fans know lmao". And like. I felt particularly cheated because a) her design was the one (1) thing that made me want to watch this show and b) I felt her pain of rejection by her sister so fucking hard in my gut that I connected to her... and I don't mind that she's a Murder Kitten. I just wish we were given the transition to that.

Annie was heavy! I did not expect that, even after having just watched Arcane, lmao. But yeah, the animation is so cool, like traditional hand-painted frames - it reminds me of something I heard about Into the Spiderverse, where they intended each single frame to look like a panel from a comic book (and they nailed that), and in Annie it feels like every frame could be its own painting. I love seeing other styles of animation, especially considering how Disney and Dreamworks seem to focus only on the same 3d cartoonish-realistic style nowadays. I mean, at first it was only Pixar that did that. And it would be awesome if it had stayed that way and Pixar had kept 3d as its own style. Dreamworks followed, and then Disney took it upon itself to never release another 2d-animated major film after The Princess and the Frog. Which is why I was impressed by and appreciated Arcane's animation in the first place. Animation in itself is so wonderful and complex and it's a damn shame that the biggest animation studios in the world only choose the single same style to do it.

#samatedeansbroccoli #ask and ye shall receive #arcane spoilers #arcane lol

[letterboxd]

The Other Bill and Ted.

As No Man of God hits theaters and VOD following its Tribeca premiere in June, director Amber Sealey talks to Dominic Corry about her Ted Bundy two-hander and answers our Life in Film questions.

Amber Sealey has been very acknowledging of the fact that her new film is one of many to center around the horrific crimes of serial rapist and murderer Ted Bundy. As she outlined in her Tribeca Q&A with Letterboxd, one way she intended No Man of God to stick out from the pack was through the use of consciously silent background characters who represent Bundy’s voiceless victims.

The structure and source of the film also help distinguish it from other Ted Bundy movies: No Man of God is based on the recordings of FBI agent Bill Hagmaier (played in the film by Elijah Wood), who was tasked with interviewing an incarcerated Bundy in the years leading up to his execution, in order to help determine whether or not he was criminally insane, which could’ve helped to remove Bundy from death row.

With many of Bundy’s victims never officially attributed to the killer, Hagmaier also sought to draw confessions, and something resembling remorse, out of Bundy, to help bring closure to those victims’ families. As detailed in the film, much of which was taken directly from transcripts of the interviews, Bundy and Hagmaier’s relationship was complicated, and the intimacy that develops between them informs No Man of God in often uncomfortable ways.

Luke Kirby and Elijah Wood in a scene from ‘No Man of God’.

Wood (also a producer on the film) and Luke Kirby turn in career-high work as Hagmaier and Bundy, respectively, while Sealey textures the film with some of the most emotive stock-footage montage sequences this side of The Parallax View. Among positive reactions to the film, Claira Curtis, in a four-star review, writes: “Perhaps one of the most successful elements lies in Amber Sealey’s uncentering of the ‘genius’ moniker that has followed Bundy through his years of infamy.” On the pairing of Wood and Kirby in the leading roles, Connor Ashdown-Ford notes that “the chemistry between them both is so authentic it’s darn right unsettling”.

Unsettling is right. Late in the film, Sealey depicts a real-life TV interview that took place between Bundy and evangelical preacher/​author/​psychologist James Dobson (played by stalwart character actor Christian Clemonson), who uses Bundy to forward his anti-pornography agenda. Throughout this scene, the camera lingers on a young female member of the TV crew (played by an uncredited Hannah Jessup) as she silently reacts to being in Bundy’s presence. Emblematic of Sealey’s aforementioned philosophy in constructing the film, it’s a moment that appears to be having an impact on audiences, as detailed in Nolan Barth’s review: “She might have one of my favorite performances of this year? She shows us fascination, guilt, disgust and fear in like only 30 seconds of screen time. Give her an Oscar. Please.”

In an awkward incident that represents a perhaps unanticipated effect of there being so many contemporaneous movies with the same subject matter, director Joe Berlinger (Metallica: Some Kind of Monster, the Paradise Lost trilogy), who recently directed both the Zac Efron-starring scripted Ted Bundy biopic Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile and the documentary Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes, sent an email to Sealey ahead of No Man of God’s Tribeca premiere about remarks she had made while discussing how her film differentiated itself from the existing Ted Bundy movies. He felt she had accused him of glorifying Bundy. After Sealey took the exchange public, she explained to Variety that she had never singled out Berlinger’s films in any of her remarks.

In a conversation with Letterboxd, Sealey delves into her approach to No Man of God, and talks about some of her filmic inspirations.

‘No Man of God’ director Amber Sealey.

There is really effective and creepy use of stock-footage montages in this film. Sometimes you see that sort of thing at the beginning of a film, but it’s interesting that you keep going back to them after using them in the opening credits. What was the thinking in using those montages and how did you select the footage? Amber Sealey: The thinking for those was a couple things: One, we don’t leave the prison, and I wanted [the audience] to know a little bit what’s going on outside, in terms of the cultural zeitgeist, like what’s the tone of the time? What movies are popular? What books are popular? What are people wearing? I wanted to have there be a kind of cultural touchstone outside of the prison, but at the same time I wanted it to represent potentially a little bit of what was going on inside Bill’s mind. So the story of the montages as they go on, it gets a little bit more fucked up, for lack of a better word, for Bill, inside of his head.

We were originally going to shoot the crowd scenes [of protesters outside the prison] and recreate them and then because of Covid restrictions, we couldn’t do that anymore. So then I knew we were going to be using archival footage for the crowd, and I didn’t want the archival crowd footage to suddenly jump out as being so different from the rest of our film. We’re shooting on an ARRI camera, [so it’s] not going to look like a Hi-8 from the 1980s. I needed to incorporate this look, this ’80s grainy look into the rest of the movie so that it feels like it’s part and parcel of the film, part of the storytelling.

We got [the footage] in different ways. I have an old friend that I’ve known since I was like, two, he lived next door to me, and my cousin, they both had video cameras in the ’80s and would film everything. So some of that footage is old family footage of their family or friends. There’s a couple shots in there of my neighbors when I was growing up. Then some of it, we did a lot of research on [stock-imagery services] Getty and Pond5, just finding archival footage that we could use that really told the story that we wanted to tell with the montages. It was a lengthy process finding all of that footage for sure.

What was Bill Hagmaier’s involvement in the film? Bill is an executive producer on the film, so he was very involved. The transcripts of those conversations between Bill and Ted, we got from Bill. Bill gave us so much great stuff to work with—the newer FBI files that he was allowed to share with us and the recordings, and when the script was originally written it was written based off of those recordings, and the writer originally spoke to Bill and then when I came on board, I talked to him and then I changed the script, even more from conversations I had with him. He was just a resource.

Almost every [character] you see on screen, those are real people, and he hooked us up with a lot of those real people. I spoke with the prison guards and the wardens and all of that. Then he was just a resource in terms of like, I would ask him, “what color were your shoes?” “Did you carry this kind of briefcase or that kind of briefcase?” Because it was important to me that all that production-design stuff was really authentic. I liked to know, like, “what were your haircuts like then, Bill?” So he was available to talk about the emotional side of things, and then the real just humdrum kind of things. He’s just a lovely guy, he’s really supportive of me and of the film and he just wanted to be accessible as much as he could and he was. He’s a very humble, generous person.

Aleksa Palladino plays civil-rights attorney Carolyn Lieberman to Luke Kirby’s Ted Bundy.

What films did you watch, or cite as reference points in preparation for No Man of God? Literally hundreds and hundreds of movies. When I’m looking for my creative look, I just watched so many films, and a lot of old films. I’d have to go back and look at my look book to tell you all of them but I pull images from the weirdest places. But once I get past figuring out the creative look of the film, I don’t then like to watch the movies a lot because I try to really make it its own thing and I worry too much that I’ll be copycatting other artists and I want to try [to] avoid that.

What’s your favorite true-crime movie? Oh god, what was the one about the guy who like, went to the bathroom and confessed, accidentally? He forgot his mic was on? Do you remember that one?

The Jinx? Yeah. Even though it’s a documentary, I’m going to go with that.

What’s your favorite big-screen serial-killer performance? It has to be Luke Kirby. Luke Kirby as Bundy.

What was the first horror film you saw? My dad had me watch Cat People when I was nine. Does that count?

The Val Lewton one? The ’80s one.

Oh, the Paul Schrader one? Yes! The Paul Schrader one.

Nastassja Kinski in Paul Schrader’s ‘Cat People’ (1982).

When you were nine years old? Yeah. I also watched Blue Velvet when I was nine. Oh wow, thank you Dad.

What’s the most disturbing film you’ve ever seen? Most disturbing, hmm… Kids.

What film made you want to become a filmmaker? It was Michael Winterbottom’s Nine Songs. My first film was a reaction to that movie. I’m a huge Winterbottom fan. That’s a great movie, but also it advertises itself as being a real relationship and real sex and I watched it and I was like, well that’s not like any… it was like two models, you know? Their sex scenes were like a perfume ad and I was like, well that’s not what real sex looks like for real people. I made my first feature after that.

What’s your go-to comfort movie? Oh, so many, let’s think. The Proposal. I love Trainwreck. I really like rom-coms, like if I’m sick or something, I’ll watch rom-coms. Roman Holiday, stuff like that.

What’s a classic that you couldn’t get into or that you think is overrated? Umm. Star Wars. I’m trying to think, there’s something else that I just don’t like… everyone loves that singing movie. What’s that singing movie that when Moonlight won the Oscar, it got announced?

La La Land. Yeah. I was not into that.

What filmmaker living or dead do you envy/admire the most? Yorgos Lanthimos. Or Phoebe Waller-Bridge.

If you were forced to remake a classic movie, what would you remake? Grease.

Who would be in the cast of your Grease remake? Oh I don't even know but it would be much darker. It would still be a musical and still be funny, but much darker.

I would like to see that movie. I would too.

Related content

Diego’s list of films featuring the FBI

Boris1980’s list of films about serial killers

Follow Dominic on Letterboxd

‘No Man of God’ is in theaters and on VOD from August 27, 2021.

#amber sealey #luke kirby #elijah wood #ted bundy #bill hagmaier #fbi #serial killer #thriller #courtroom #fbi movies #letterboxd

[alleiradayne]

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story…

THE MIDNIGHT RIDE

Long is our list of ghost stories laid to rest. But when the dark rider returns thirty years after his exorcism at the hands of the Winchesters, Sam, Dean, and I are faced with the possibility that we’ve been wrong about one thing.

Some urban legends never die.

Part III - Unsolved Mysteries

Summary: Sam, Dean, and the reader head to the Old Dutch Cemetery. Warnings/Tags: General elements of horror and fear, graveyards, coffins, sorta-not-really-death... Characters/Pairings: First Person Female!Reader/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Word Count: 5,385

The Impala jostled over the transition from street to gravel path as Dean turned for the graveyard. Tall, stout trees lined the trail to the Old Dutch Church, their long sinuous branches reaching out as though to grasp and pull unwary travelers into the shadowy depths of the surrounding forest. A chill ran down my spine as the car lumbered on, descending into the darkness, and a foolish sense of fear filled my stomach with dread. I had vanquished many vengeful spirits with Sam and Dean. The last decade of our lives had been nothing but. And yet, something about the case had me on edge.

Around a shallow bend in the path, the church materialized from the darkness atop a hill as the Impala’s headlights flashed across it. Dark windows and a distinct lack of exterior lighting shrouded the building in impenetrable black despite our approach. The car climbed the steep hill, and as it crest the top, I saw a thick stone wall and a tall iron gate in the distance.

“At least we’re alone,” Sam mentioned as he followed the church.

“Good,” Dean started, then squinted through the windshield as we neared the gate. “Is it open?”

“I’m guessing the graveyard isn’t maintained if the church is abandoned,” Sam stated.

As he pulled up to the gate, Dean put the car in park and climbed out. Sam and I followed, and between the three of us, we managed to pull the gate apart wide enough for the Impala to pass. Dean returned to the car and, as he pulled into the graveyard, that chill, loitering beneath my skin, clawed deep into my bones. The Impala entered the great yawning maw and slid into the belly of the beast.

When I remained still too long, Sam ushered me along with a reassuring hand at my shoulder. His wide stare betrayed his crooked smile, and that creeping dread seeped into the very marrow of my existence.

“This feels too easy.” I had intended to speak with more conviction, but my voice faltered.

“Don’t jinx it,” Sam retorted.

“I’m not trying to,” I said as I rubbed an ache in my left arm. Drawn to the darkness, I scanned the graveyard from edge to edge. “I’m… something feels off. Like we’re forgetting something.”

He turned to me then, and the warmth of his large hand enveloped my shoulder. An odd sense of calm replaced my looming anxiety. And his voice assuaged my worst concerns. “Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. I’m here, Dean’s here. You know what you’re doing, too. I believe in us.”

And I believed him. I didn’t just know it to be true, but felt it, like that deep ache in my bones. But the case, the urban legend. It all had me on edge. Despite my oscillating emotions, I smiled a wry smile and looked up to him. A slanted ray of silvery moonlight illuminated his own crooked smile, and the last of my concerns receded to the edges of my mind. “Thanks, Sam. You’re really good at that.”

He turned for the car as Dean stopped up the path. “At what?”

I followed with a skipped step and said, “Making a lady feel special.”

His subtle smile turned into a devious smirk I’d not seen on him in age. “Good. You are,” he said. A hitch in his breath hesitated his next statement, but then he turned to me once more and said, “I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I’ve been feeling pretty shitty myself since Chuck.”

Dean remained in the car, illuminated by the glow of his cell phone. Safe, for the moment at least, I figured it couldn’t hurt to hear Sam out. “What’s on your mind?”

“Dean and I care a lot for you,” he stated as he closed the space between us. He scoffed before he said, "But I… Dammit, we weren’t supposed to be in fucking graveyard when I finally told you… and especially not on a case. I’ve wanted to say this for months, but we haven’t taken a break, and I never get five minutes with you alone—”

“Sam.”

His teeth clicked shut at my interruption. A thick swallow bobbed his throat before he said, “I’m sorry. I’m nervous.”

“I can tell,” I replied with a short laugh. “But I get it. I am, too. I’ve… felt the same way for a while.”

Despite the darkness, his entire face brightened at that. “Really? Like… how long?”

I turned for the Impala and said over my shoulder, “Longer than I care to admit.”

He trotted to catch up to me at the trunk. When he opened his mouth to speak again, the driver’s door opened, and Dean’s boots crunched on the gravel. Before he squandered the moment, Sam slipped his hand to the small of my back and whispered in my ear, “We’ll talk more later?”

I sucked a breath through my nose as I bit my bottom lip but managed a quick nod as Sam straightened. There is a reason I don’t play poker; Dean spotted the obvious a mile away, his approach slowing and his glare narrowing on me, then on Sam, who had busied himself on his phone.

“What’s going on?” he grumbled as he unlocked the trunk.

Sam hardly looked up. “Hm? Nothing, just waiting for you. C’mon, let’s go,” he said as he grabbed a shovel and flashlight, then strode away for a set of plots.

Dean’s glare fell to me then, as though he measured me under a microscope, and I shifted on my feet. “Y/N…”

“What?!” I squeaked, then cleared my throat. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” he declared as he rummaged through the trunk. “You look… do you need to take a leak or something?”

The surge of sensations from Sam’s attention passed, and I stilled. “No, I’m fine. Just… graveyards, right? This whole case has me kinda freaked.”

Look, I’m not dumb, and I know Dean isn’t either. But thankfully, he let my half-truth slide and grabbed a shovel. “You know the drill. This’ll be quick once we dig it up.”

I took the shovel from him, then the flashlight. “Got it. I’ll start helping Sam look for this needle in a haystack unmarked grave.”

“Good idea,” he replied. “I’ll catch up in a minute. Need to grab a few more things here. Go on ahead.”

With my shovel shouldered, I turned and hesitated. Headstones sprawled to the opposite tree line three hundred yards away, and between them rolled a thick mist. Cloud cover rolled in almost as if it were on a schedule. Darkness masked the moon and plunged the graveyard in a night so deep, and my flashlight flickered like a tiny shivering candle flame.

One foot in front of the other. That was all I needed to do. Just walk. Read headstones. Find the unmarked grave. Not that hard. Lost count of the graves I've dug up over the last decade. Like I mentioned earlier, Sam and Dean changed my life—for the better—the day we met. Digging up graves happened to be a part of the gig.

As I traipsed through the graveyard, headstones passed beneath my flashlight, materializing out of the dark mist. The light lingered long enough for me to see any sort of epitaph, then moved on, the stone vanishing into the fog once more. My mind wandered as that monotonous repetition seeped into my muscles, weary and aching. Hypnotized by the swinging flashlight—left, right, left, right—the graveyard faded away, the headstones ceased to exist, and I wandered aimlessly.

"Over here!"

Sam's booming baritone echoed through the darkness, a bodiless voice carried on a bone-chilling gust of wind. Another shiver coursed along my spine, and my flashlight quivered in my white-knuckled grip. Strange trees and unfamiliar headstones surrounded me, appearing and vanishing in the thick mist that languidly coiled through the graveyard. Sam's voice breached the silence again, emanating from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Each echoing thump of my heart beat faster than the previous. Each breath filled less and less of my lungs, shallow and thin. And each thought muddied the waters further as I waded through the muck until not a single coherent idea remained. Silence settled in, stilled the graveyard's night sounds, and death's icy breath lashed out at me.

Long seconds stretched so thin, one tick of my watch marked an entire lifetime. As my heart raced, its sharp staccato strikes drowned out the world. A moment, one terrifyingly calm instance of hyperawareness passed before I realized that thumping no longer beat in my head but from through the ground and into my chest. Horse hooves raced in the distance, and with each expeditious plot, they neared.

Pressure. A shift in the air behind me snapped my instincts into action. I wheeled about and brought the shovel to bear only to find more of the thick graveyard mist ambling between headstones and trees. Sam's voice echoed again. And again. And again. I tried to call back, but no sound escaped my throat, dry as the desert in a drought. Though desperate to move, my feet refused. Rooted in that hallowed ground, I firmly remained where I stood, my head spinning.

That was until I heard the most terrifying sound in recent memory.

The blood-curdling bray of a horse screeched through the night air, so shrill and ethereal. Impossibly sustained, the cry lingered an eternity. That haunting melody accompanied the thundering hooves’ rhythm, both building in a wild crescendo until out of the mist burst the stuff of nightmares.

Black as pitch, a horse bearing a headless rider barreled through the graveyard straight for me. Fire fanned from the steed’s wide eyes, and smoke blacker than his coat roiled from his nose. Bones and ligaments jutted through his muscles, and his jet black hide scored with whip lashes, runnels of blood, and burns beneath crimson and iron tack.

And yet, the horse paled in comparison to its burden. Astride the cursed beast sat a giant of a man clad in green armor so dark, it was nearly black. He wielded a fiery whip that cracked like thunder with a flick of his wrist, and in the other hand, he manifested a flaming cannonball. He hefted it high over his head—the empty void where his head should have been—and aimed.

Never in my life had I run so fast. Like lightning, I leaped through the graveyard, racing for whatever outlet I could find. Reaching tree branches snagged my coat, my jeans, and one sliced a gash across my cheek. Pain and fear fueled my survival, and the last ounce of hope I had desperately clung to echoed once more, so much closer.

“Y/N?!”

Sam’s shout distracted me a second too long; the fiery cannonball singed my hair as it hurtled past my head and destroyed a headstone. Graveyard turf caught my toe as I threw my arms up to shield myself from flying stone, and I crashed to the dirt face first. Blood poured from my nose and soaked my shirt as I scrambled to my feet. Whitehot pain rolled in waves across my face, and tears blurred my vision as I searched for my thrown flashlight and shovel. Thundering hooves closed on me, drawing closer and closer until my hand seized the metal grip of my shovel. I torqued my entire body and swung the bladed end with all my might.

The rider’s whip coiled high above his shoulders, then unfurled with a wicked snap of his arm. Inch by inch, the flaming bones rolled to me until time raced to catch up. The last foot disappeared in a single heartbeat. An earth-shattering crack of thunder rattled in my teeth as the bone whip wrapped around the steel shaft of my shovel. He snapped it from my hands with little effort and freed his whip, then raised it again for another strike.

Despite the fact that I knew I had no chance of escaping, I ran. Thunder rolled once more as the whip descended upon me. Sudden clarity steadied my heart as death’s icy chill breathed down my back once more. Final heartbeats counted down my last seconds as the whip’s scorching grasp coiled about my neck. Where time had once moved too fast, it slowed again, creeping until it stopped.

The world faded away to nothing. No sound, no light. No racing hooves or hearts. No shrill horse’s cry. No fire and no ice. No pain. Suspended in a nothingness sea, I drifted aimlessly. Lost. Even time’s relevance ceased to exist. The threads of my consciousness unraveled as though tugged by anxious fingers. Soon, I knew that I, too, would unweave until I remained nothing but a mere memory in other's minds.

Then a cry pierced the silence, muted, as though it belonged to someone else’s. Desperate, I focused every conscious sensation that yet belonged to me on that singular sound, a siren’s salvation, and clung to it. The voice thinned and focused, sharpened as though I dialed in on the perfect frequency until it burst through the emptiness and rendered me senseless.

And then I fell. Hundreds of thousands of feet, I descended, plummeting faster and faster as the shout continued to grow. Another voice joined, bellowing my name as I sank. The onslaught of vertigo ravaged every fiber of my pitiable existence as I tumbled through space and time until my mind and body reunited. Reality returned in a blossoming of flashlights, two men shouting in shock, and a freshly dug grave into which I dropped the final five feet. I screamed as I crashed onto the exposed coffin, then collapsed in a heap.

My first gasping breath dragged in dirt and grave rot, and I choked. Before I could string a coherent thought together, two sets of hands grasped me by the arms and hauled me from the grave. They set me on my feet, but I collapsed to the ground, sprawling on my back and stared up at a clear, cloudless night sky.

A cascade of brilliant stars dotted the emptiness, teaming with ancient light. Cool, clean air filled my lungs for the first pure breath I’d taken in a century. Clarity followed, and my first thought echoed between my ears like a struck church bell.

Did I just cheat death?

“Y/N?”

Sam’s strength slipped beneath my shoulders and legs as he hauled me into his lap. His face, knotted and twisted with worry, flooded my vision. “Y/N, are you okay?”

Inventory. No sliced cheek. No burnt hair, no broken nose. Most importantly, no burned lashes on my neck. I started a few thoughts before I settled on, “I think I’m fine.”

He seated me on the ground once more and sat beside me. Dean knelt as well and placed a stable hand on my shoulder. “What happened? One second, I was right behind you, and then the next, you were gone.”

The chilling scream of an undead horse echoed in the furthest recesses of my mind. “I saw it. The…” I stuttered as I motioned to my head. “He had a whip of bone engulfed in flames and a fiery cannonball.” I paused, seized by the memory of such fear. “He... he ran me down—”

“That’s it, I’m putting an end to this shit right now,” Dean interjected as he hopped into the grave.

Sam and I leaned over the edge as Dean pried open the old pinewood box. Wood splintered and popped as he made short work of the rotted enclosure. But then the top snapped free and fell aside to reveal nothing and everything all at once.

Ash and black scorch marks marred the entire interior of the coffin. “What the fuck?” Dean spat. He sifted through the ashes, flinging them about, searching. “No, this can’t be right, there has to be something—”

“Dad did it.” Dean and I both turned to Sam. “Thirty years ago, he had the same idea we did: roast the bones, send the spirit on.”

Dean turned back to the box and stared. A long minute passed as thumped his crowbar on his thigh, the gears in his head churning so hard, I swore I heard them. Then he replaced the cover and crawled from the grave with Sam’s help. He dusted off his jeans but remained silent as he paced, deep in thought.

I grasped Sam’s hand and hauled myself up to stand beside him. His warmth enveloped me as I curled into him, and he held me close. With a reassuring squeeze, he asked, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I will be,” I sighed. “I think I…”

The thought trailed off as Dean began shoveling dirt back into the grave. “Son of a bitch ghost,” he spat with a violent stab of the shovel. “Fucking piece of shit curse.” Another stab. “Stupid fairy jerk.” Another stab. “Lame ass urban legends!”

“Dean!” Sam insisted, “what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” Dean barked. “We gotta get out of here and figure out what to do next before this circus freak shows up again.”

Sam sighed as he smoothed his hand across my shoulders and said, “You can head back to the car, I’ll help—”

“No!” I declared, far louder than I had intended. “Sorry, no. I’ll…” I spotted my shovel and flashlight lying not three feet away from me. Unwilling to question how either object had returned with me, I hefted both. “I’ll help. I need something to do.”

Concern clouded Sam’s visage, but he shrugged and made room for me to dig. As I started in, fresh memories flooded my mind’s eye, and I did my best to relive the moments as clearly—and objectively—as possible. Undead horse. Crimson tack. Headless rider. Fiery whip and cannonball. Green armor that could easily be mistaken for black.

“He was wearing green armor,” I stated.

Dean froze at that. “Green? Like the Gawain legend?”

“I assume so,” I replied as I continued shoveling. “I think we’re still on the right track. It’s an amalgamation of urban legends. The Hessian, the dulachan. Gawain. A fae-cursed german soldier that fought against the colonies during the American revolution. Not sure how the English legend plays into it though.”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Sam said with a grunt. “Maybe being decapitated by an enemy soldier during a war is close enough to match the English urban legend.”

“Could be why he only comes back once a year,” I agreed.

Dean shook his head. “Let’s just get this grave filled and figure it out back at the motel.”

With a sense of finality on the topic, we continued to shovel. As I worked, I couldn’t help but lose myself in thought to the point where I hardly recalled shoveling. A filled grave stood before me less than half an hour later. Wordlessly, we gathered up our things, then turned our backs on the grave and started for the car.

No more than fifty yards from the unmarked headstone, Sam stopped first, frozen solid. I lurched to an awkward halt beside him, my hand held fast in his. I looked up to him and asked, “What’s… Sam?”

He stared straight ahead at the car, then looked at me. “Didn’t you hear that?”

“No,” I said as I turned to the Impala, then back to him. “What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Sam, let’s—”

I heard it then; the relentless cry of a terrifying horse careened through the still graveyard. Dean had heard it too, his thought suspended, unfinished. The echoing bray of the horse faded as a fresh thundering of hooves clamored in the distance.

“Get to the car!”

My shout startled Sam and Dean into motion. The first hundred yards passed, but beating hooves pounded in from all sides. Another terrifying whinny screeched through the night, and in the last hundred yards to the car, my nightmare returned in full force.

The undead horse and its rider materialized from the mist and leaped the car’s trunk, heading straight for us. I screamed and skidded to a halt, then twisted to run back into the graveyard. Sam and Dean followed, catching my shorter gait in a few sprinting strides. With one final look over my shoulder, I spotted the headless rider gaining on us and shouted.

“We can’t outrun him!”

Ahead, Dean pointed at a wide paved path on the far side of the graveyard. “Follow that road! I’ve got an idea!”

“INTO THE WOODS?!” I screeched.

“Trust me!” he shouted back as we reached the road and turned towards the treeline.

I trusted Dean with my life. But he had not seen what I had. Just as the thought crossed my mind, an iron ball of fire lobbed past Dean’s head and landed in the asphalt, spraying dirt and rock. Dean leaped the divot and checked back over his shoulder. “Seriously, who throws fucking cannonballs at people?!”

Without a second to retort, we rounded a sharp curve in the path that twisted around a copse separated from the forest. On the other side sat a fork in the path, our only options left or right. At the last possible second, Dean darted right, and we followed. The road narrowed considerably, too small for a car to pass. Asphalt transitioned to dirt, and thick forest trees encroached. No light from the moon or stars penetrated the dense canopy above.

I checked behind me to see the rider and his nightmare steed gaining ground, no more than fifty yards away. “Dean, what are we doing?!”

He searched the trees, the path as his head whipped about, but I knew he saw nothing but the same desperate hope of salvation I sought. Thundering hooves counted down the final moments of our lives, one gallop after the next. Though I had seen dire situations hunting beside Sam, Dean, and Castiel over the years, none compared to the complete despair I felt in that moment, running ragged through the woods from the Headless fucking Horseman.

An urban legend was about to kill us. A friggin' fairytale told to scare kids. 

Dean skidded to a halt so suddenly, Sam and I blasted twenty yards past him. I spun about gracelessly and gripped Sam’s arm for leverage. Behind us, Dean stood in a pool of opulent moonlight illuminating the dirt path through a clearing in the forest canopy. Beyond the lighted path, the rider and his horse closed the distance so fast, Dean risked losing his chance to escape.

"Dean, what are you doing?! Run!" Sam bellowed as he started for him.

"Sam, no! Stop!" I pleaded as I ran to catch him, but his legs proved too long and too fast for my own.

Despite his speed, I knew he'd never make it. An unseen force hindered him, as though the hands of the dead emerged from the ground and snatched at his ankles. He reached for Dean, his entire body straining and stretched to its fullest. The horse’s hooves pounded the dirt only a few yards away, but Dean stood fast, head held high and feet planted. And there in the darkness, I understood.

Dean knew something I did not. Something worth its weight in gold. Literally.

Heavy coins landed in the dirt as he backed into the shadows and flung his arm in a wide arc. Like so many shards of broken glass, they scattered. Each tumbled and turned end over end, glinting and glittering as they flipped and rolled to settle in the dirt.

With Dean's final cast of the dice, time stood still. He distilled everything that transpired that night in that singular moment. I watched helplessly as Dean stood defiant in the shadows, and Sam failed to reach him. The horse leaped the final feat as the rider raised his whip, coiling high over his shoulders. Hooves breached the moonlight as the rider brought down his arm in eternal judgment, the flaming lash his gavel. Horse and whip bore down on Dean, crossing the golden coins’ threshold and thoroughly bathed in brilliant moonlight. My last hope of salvation incinerated, and in that final second, I screamed.

But that second never came. In a single, raging beat of my heart, time, and reality reunited, and I hardly believed my eyes. Smoke and cinders smoldered at the horse's hooves, engulfing him and the rider to headless shoulders as though fire had caught dry tinder. The nightmare steed cried out its ethereal scream. The rider raised both hands, whip, and a new projectile brandished high until consumed by the squall. And then a turbulent gust scattered the ashes as though they had never existed.

My scream faded as it echoed through the woods. Sam whipped about, terrified eyes searching for me in the darkness. Found, he raced to me, and I grasped onto his arms. One massive hand cupped my cheek as he looked me in the eye, searched for any sign of injury, and begged for reassurance. I dove into his embrace then, unwilling to stand alone any longer. All my anger and fear drained in the safety of his arms as though it ran through a sieve.

A soft clinking of metal drew my attention past Sam, and I saw Dean gathering up the golden coins at his feet. He returned them to his pocket, then headed for us, dusting his hands on his thighs along the way. When he reached us, his typical smile spread across his lips, and he spoke.

"That's one way to waste a ghost."

"Is it…" I asked, hope clouding my better judgment.

"It'll buy us some time," Sam said with a reassuring squeeze of my shoulder. "We need to get back to the motel and figure out what's next."

Dean started back for the car first. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if it's a tul—"

"It's not a tulpa, Dean," Sam spat as he followed, urging me along beside him. "Seriously, we've only ever seen one of those things."

Dean shook his head and laughed sardonically. "It's got all the signs. A big ol' mess of urban legends and myths. An entire country that believes in it. And real power. I mean, did you see that thing, it damn near ran me down." When neither of us responded, he turned over his shoulder and his ridiculous grin faded. "What?"

"You could have died," I stated.

Of course, he shrugged. "But I didn't," he said as he pointed to his pocket. "Back up plan."

"Speaking of which," Sam said before I could give Dean a piece of my mind. "Where'd you get that idea?"

As we neared the fork, Dean jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at me. "That website. I looked up a little on each legend and found the dulachan is sort of banished for a hot minute if a gold coin is tossed in its path. So I figured, why not try twenty gold coins?"

"Try?" I repeated.

At the fork, he stopped and turned to face us. "I had a hunch."

A hunch. I knew what that meant. He had no clue. One or twenty, Dean had not the faintest notion if a gold coin would stop the spirit. No additional research. No supporting theories. Nothing. Just a fucking hunch and the confidence of a man with a death wish.

I opened my mouth, intent on giving Dean the tongue-lashing of his life. My hands shook as I parted from Sam, trembled as one coiled into a furiously extended index finger, and the other balled into a tight fist. Unbridled heat twisted in the pit of my stomach, contorted my face, and rattled in my throat as I began to speak.

But cold dread drowned my rage, and my words succumbed to that torrential fear. A ghastly pale man astride an equally pale horse rounded the sharp corner past the fork, less than twenty yards behind Dean. No clop of hooves announced his approach, no horse’s chuff, no clatter of tack. Silent as the dead, he followed the path and stopped only a stride short behind Dean. 

I gawked openly, as did Sam, and when neither of us spoke, Dean glanced over his shoulder only to startle and shout as he leaped to my side. “Christ, man, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!”

The pale rider’s gaze lazily drifted down and stared each one of us in the eye. Otherworldly, he appeared as though he had been ripped from his timeline and placed in ours. A three-point hat covered his long hair tied back with a thin leather strap, and a once-fine wool coat covered his linen shirt and felted vest. Thin gloves sheathed his hands, holding the reins. Heavy wool pants draped loosely down the thigh to gather at the knee where thick stockings tucked in beneath. Wide-buckled shoes with short heels completed the ensemble.

A gray layer of ash covered the rider, his clothes, his tack, and his horse, most terrifying of all.

“Good evening, my lords, my lady. Would any of you know the way to the schoolhouse? I seem to have gotten lost again…”

I glanced at Sam, who shook his head, then Dean. He cleared his throat and said, “We’re not from around here.”

“Pity,” the rider said. A twitch of the reins shifted his horse down the path to his right. “It’s always this fork that gives me trouble. Mayhaps the right will prove correct this time.” With a gentle prod of his heels, the horse obeyed and began walking once more. “A good evening to you all.” He tipped his hat as he passed, then turned ahead for the trail.

The sudden need to confirm my suspicions gripped me like a vice. Talk about a wild hair.

“Wait!” I squirmed from Sam and Dean’s arms and followed the rider. “Who are you?”

The horse turned broadside as the rider’s glassy stare fell upon me once more. Though I knew the answer before he spoke, my fingers and toes burned with anticipation.

“I’m the new teacher. Ichabod Crane.”

He turned back to the path with a final touch to his hat, and his horse started ahead once more. The dark depths of the forest swallowed him whole, vanishing as though a figment of my imagination.

Wordlessly, I returned to Sam and Dean, who also said nothing. A stunned silence followed us the remainder of the walk back to the car. Without anything to pack up—I made a mental note to recover our shovels and flashlights, lest they be found later—Dean slid in behind the wheel and started her up. I slipped into the backseat, beyond exhausted and unsurprised to find Sam there as well. Unintrusive, his fingers slipped between mine, and I clung to him, an anchor in a sea of madness.

Dean grasped the steering wheel, white knuckles twisting over the leather and a thousand-mile stare gazing through the windshield. When Sam tapped him on the shoulder, he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, then wrenched the shifter into drive.

Through the gate and past the church, we returned to the main road. Small town Sleepy Hollow passed us by as though we drifted through another world. Halloween decorations no longer appeared quaint or impressive; grisly murals and disturbing effigies hooked into fresh memories, and I looked to Sam for solace. For comfort. For grounding.

And it worked. Kaleidoscope colors diffused the dull gray world around me. Only Sam and the distant, soothing rumble of the Impala remained. Though fear roiled in the pit of my stomach, a renewed sense of hope tempered that heat. Special. I’d meant it in jest earlier. Sam didn’t make me feel special. He helped me feel. In a world where I blocked out so much, he managed to give me something worth feeling again.

Just like that, the Impala undulated up and over the driveway as Dean turned into the parking lot of the motel. In his spot before our door, he snapped the shifter into park and slumped back in his seat. A long moment of silence stretched between us all until he sighed.

“Son of a bitch.”

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THE MIDNIGHT RIDE MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

#alleiradayne writes #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction

[sincerelyreidburke]

The first Halloween party of college goes extremely successfully for Ben.

So successfully, in fact, that he doesn’t even get back to his room until approximately four in the morning. Unfortunately, his roommate is asleep, so he has nobody to rave to about the very very sexy girl from the basketball team he spent the wee hours of the morning with, but then again, Nando is a responsible citizen, and Ben doesn’t want to wake him so he can dish about a hookup. Instead, he sheds his costume, crawls into bed in his boxers, and waits until morning.

When morning comes, Nando wakes up first. Ben knows this because when he comes to, sometime around ten in the morning, with autumn light beaming into his eyes like a hangover laser through the window, Nando is not only already up, but already showered and dressed. He’s chilling on his bed typing on his phone, and smiling at his screen while he does it.

When Ben sits up in bed, blinking the light out of his eyes, Nando gives him a wave. “Hey, man.” He’s chipper, still grinning, and definitely not feeling the effect of last night the way Ben is.

Ben yawns, and stretches both arms to the ceiling. “‘Sup,” he gets out, after what feels like a prolonged, yawn-caused delay. He rubs out a crick in his neck, then, to Nando, says, “How long have you been up?”

Nando is typing on his phone again. “Like an hour?” he says, then shrugs. He sleeps his display, then puts the phone down on his chest. He’s still smiling. “What, uh… what time did you get in?”

Ben pretends like he has to think about it for a second. “Around four,” he remarks, after the consideration.

Nando lets off a vaguely impressed chuckle. “You don’t fuck around.”

“Actually,” Ben corrects, finger-gunning him, “that’s exactly what I was doing.”

Nando laughs. “I hate you so much.”

Ben winks at him. “Most people do.” He grabs his most recent half-finished water bottle from his bedside table, and downs the rest in one gulp— which definitely clears his head a little. From next to the bottle, he takes a blue scrunchie, and starts to tie up his hair while he looks again to Nando. He’s texting again, so Ben gives him a minute before he begins his dishing about Jess.

And he intends to tell him about Jess. Or at least to make an offhand comment about how he’s lost his basketball team virginity, to be funny. Nando may not be able to relate to his sentiments about girls, but when Ben comes back from a hookup, Nando usually asks where he was.

So he’s about to tell him. He waits for him to be off his phone before he does. But when Nando puts his phone down again, he folds his hands on his stomach, and he talks first.

“So, like,” he says, smiling at the ceiling, “not to jinx it?” It’s only right then that Ben realizes something might be up for him , and his next sentence confirms it. “But I’m pretty sure I met the cutest guy on this campus last night.”

Ben’s internal simp sensor rings off the hook. “Oh, did you?” he chirps. “Did you really? The cutest guy on this campus?” The doofy smile on Nando’s face is a fucking delight to behold, and so is the way it keeps widening as Ben makes fun of him. He can’t believe he didn’t notice this right off the bat. “You better start talking right fucking now, Seb,” he declares, and lowers his voice in his unparalleled glee to whisper, “Did you get lucky?”

“What? No!” Nando laughs, and shakes his head. He twists his hands where they’re resting on his stomach, and shrugs, with the simp smile lingering. “We just talked.”

“ We just talked ,” Ben mocks, and cackles, as he drums on his own pillow. �� Dude !” He wants to jump on his bed. Nando meeting a guy is good on its own, and even better when you consider the sheer amount of chirping this gives Ben ammunition for. “Who? When? At the party?”

“Yeah, at the party.” Nando ruffles a hand through his curls, then his smile widens. “He agreed to go on a date with me.”

“ What ?!” Ben very well may be waking up all their dorm neighbors, and he gives a literal negative amount of fucks about that. He slaps his pillow again. “You fucking casanova!”

Nando says nothing, but peeks at his phone, and keeps smiling when he goes to type again. “Jesus Christ,” Ben whispers, in his awe. “Are you texting him right now?”

Nando nods, and Ben yells into his pillow. His best friend, who got cheated on and dumped the third week of school, is a complete ball of mush over some guy right now. Ben could not be more fucking amped. And also he’s going to get details. ASAP.

“Who, who, who?” he says, as soon as Nando’s attention is away from his phone again. “Who is it? Do I know him? Do you have a picture?”

“I don’t think you know him,” Nando replies, “but, uh, yeah, I think I have a picture. Hold on.” He picks up his phone again, and Ben does his best not to vibrate out of his skin. While Nando surfs through his phone— not texting, this time— he announces, through his smile, “His name is Quinn.”

Nando looks about to melt, and Ben is going to combust over it. Wait until Remy gets a load of this. “Nanny’s fucking wheeling,” he shouts, for nobody to hear, and claps a couple times. “ Dude . You’re a fucking legend!”

Nando laughs. He taps something on his screen, then says, like it’s no big deal, “All I did was get his number.”

“And get him to agree to a date with you!” Ben cries. “All in the same night? That takes skill!”

Nando rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stop smiling. “Look who’s talking,” he says, and then announces, “I sent you his Instagram.”

“Oh, say less .” Ben leans to grab his phone from the nightstand, and grins a little when he opens Instagram to find a follow request from Jess. He accepts it, then clicks on the profile Nando sent him. It brings him to a quinn cooper🌈🌷🧏‍♂️ , whose bio informs Ben that he’s kiersey college ‘22 and GRTA , whatever that second part means. A few taps through an aesthetically coordinated profile in muted, warm colors land him on a post from September 24th, in which a ginger twink with a white scarf is smiling in the apple orchard next to a very pretty blonde girl dressed all in pink. “Ginger boy?” he asks Nando, who’s texting yet again.

“Yeah,” Nando says, and then smiles up from his phone. “He’s cute, right?”

Ben cackles again, and nearly falls off his mattress. “Dude, you’re fucking simping right now.”

“Stop!” Nando’s smile hasn’t faded. Ben takes a minute to look through other pictures on Quinn’s Instagram. His most recent post is from October 6th, and it’s a shot of a tree Ben recognizes as one outside the performing arts center, in peak foliage. it’s a lovely time of year🍂 , reads his caption. Other, older posts include a big cast photo from some kind of play, a bunch of tulips in a huge garden, and three cats on a sofa. “Wow,” Ben remarks, once he’s done stalking (for now). When he looks up at Nando, he has to shake himself out to keep from yelling again. “ Dude ,” he says, instead. “You’re in deep. I can see it on your face.”

Nando presses his cheek into his fist, like he’s trying to rub the blush out. “I had a good night,” he murmurs, smiling down at his downturned phone in his lap.

A ‘good night’ seems like an understatement.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Ben announces, and jumps out of bed. “I’m gonna get dressed,” he starts, sauntering to his closet to prove it. “And then,” he adds, looking over his shoulder once he yanks his KMH sweatshirt off a hanger, “you’re gonna buy me brunch.”

Nando laughs. “Whaaat? No fair,” he says, but he doesn’t seem too pressed about it.

“And then ,” Ben continues, while he pulls out a pair of jeans, “you’re gonna tell me all about your new ginger friend.”

He waits for Nando to protest, but he doesn’t. Instead, when Ben turns again, Nando is smiling all the same, with his arms folded all smugly.

“Okay,” he says. “I can do that.”

Ben is going to lose his mind. For the first time, things seem to be looking up for Nando in the love department. He’s still smiling at his phone, like a fucking simp ass.

Ben laughs as he gets dressed. Good for him .

Ben doesn’t know it, but years down the road, he’ll tell this story— among many others— at Nando’s wedding to this new ginger friend. For now, though, he’s getting brunch and a dishing session out of this. It’s going to be even better than the dishing session he expected.

That’s another win for the fucking boys .

#mel writes #ficlet #my writing #kiersey college #rhode island headass #nandoooooooo #quindo #sort of #idk this came to me out of nowhere #i am a huge sucker for the nando&ben friendship dynamic #and for Soft Nando #in general

[indiavolojones]

3kish words, E, pr: dialuci, #frantic handsy grinding where both parties are grimy and trapped in a place. that’s what romance is, thanks @devildomz

“Lucifer,” Diavolo purrs, and Lucifer tosses a halfhearted glare up through his lashes at the ornately carved ceiling at nothing in particular. Spares a moment to wonder for the owner of this tomb, and if they ever had someone that said their name just the way Diavolo says his. 

He shivers at the thought. 

alternate summary: a dialuci addition to a modern magic!au i wrote, where Lucifer is a world-renowned curse-breaker that takes a teaching job at the academy Diavolo is in charge of. they then go on a field trip that ends with them trapped in a tomb! but don’t let this fool you, it’s a frottage pwp. 

(based in the same universe as this asmo/solomon magic college!au)

because i have no impulse control, and because @kareirakugaki is a *terrible* influence that went “what if they went to a tomb” and 

tumblr user indiavolojones: oh fuck yeah

i also play loose and fast with the details. don’t look too into how magic works, guys.

~~~

“A university funded trip,” Lucifer summarizes, looking at the proposal in front of him, “You want me to take a group of children to an ancient tomb with a potentially large amount of obscure, lethal curses.” 

“They’re hardly children, Lucifer!” Diavolo laughs, waving his hands. It’s partially true, the Advanced Curse-Breaking course hosts only students aged twenty and up, but Lucifer has seen much older adults lose their cool at less. Lucifer smothers the knee-jerk reaction to squint suspiciously as Diavolo just keeps giving him that megawatt smile. The same one that both charms and infuriates the Board, much to Lucifer’s secret, vindictive glee. 

“Besides,” Diavolo’s smile softens, and softens Lucifer’s carefully constructed walls with it, “You said you missed being out in the field. I thought this might be fun for you.” 

Lucifer sighs. Maybe this will be fine. 

-

-

-

Never again. 

Absolutely no more field trips for the curse-breaking department. Lucifer will bring back every obscure jinxed item he stumbles upon back to campus before he ever, ever goes on another university funded trip.

They’ve been trapped here for nearly a week. 

More specifically, six days since Lucifer missed one curse, delicately woven into the surface of a pressure plate, and he hasn’t stopped beating himself up since. An ancient magic that had immediately sent shivers through the entrance hall, Lucifer barely managing to shout get back! at Mammon and the rest of their party when the foundations began to crumble. 

Mammon and the others should find the exit easily enough, considering it’s only a few hours in the other direction. Getting back to Lucifer and Diavolo is the hard part, now that the site of their cave-in (aka the only known way out) is an unstable path, they have to find another way out or hope that someone out there can find them. Magical tombs are notorious for being hard to get in and out of without using the intended entrances, too many wards layered over the walls to dissuade those who would try to use brute strength to get through the labyrinth. Thankfully, Diavolo and Lucifer are both powerful mages in their own rights, so they’re far from helpless. Lucifer’s able to siphon water from the moss and wildlife to keep their water pouches adequately filled, even if it tastes a little strange. Diavolo has an intense amount of obscure knowledge of herbology, and somehow manages to deduce which of the strange plants won’t kill them to consume. 

They stick close to the cave-in, but the ground grumbles in warning every so often, and Lucifer makes the call for them to venture further into the depths but... They aren’t any closer to finding a way out. They’re running out of supplies, their mana reserves at an agonizing all time low, and one can only live on bitter moss and plant water for so long. 

The kiss itself is not a surprise, but merely a culmination of months of unspoken tension and lingering, awkward affection, spurned into action by the adrenaline, the danger. Diavolo’s hand massaging enticingly into Lucifer’s hip as he pushes him against the mossy wall, the wandering nature of the other hand as it traces up the side of Lucifer’s neck, cupping his jaw.   

When his back hits the stone, Lucifer’s lips part to warn Diavolo against the act, as it might trigger any wall traps they might not have initially noticed–but Diavolo reads this as an invitation, tongue dipping deeper into the other’s mouth. Lucifer’s traitorous legs spread to accommodate Diavolo’s increased force, tipping back so that he’s balanced by Diavolo’s body and the surface behind him, so hm, maybe it was an invitation. 

If this is how they’re going to go out, Lucifer would rather be kissed breathless than die wandering aimlessly through these ruins… Although, now that he thinks about it, it would hurt his ego terribly to be found mid-embrace, skewered by some magical spear trap. 

After all his hard work, for his research and reputation to be dragged through the dirt at his tragic end...

Lucifer’s hand on Diavolo’s chest starts pushing insistently, until Diavolo tilts his head back. The kiss breaks, but not the heat between them. Lucifer can’t help the glancing down at the spit-slicked sheen of Diavolo’s swollen lips, dragging his gaze up to catch the burning gold of his eyes. His heart stutters, but Lucifer keeps his composure as he speaks: 

“Do you think now is the time for this?” 

As if Lucifer is not hard, hot, and wanting against Diavolo’s body, his breath rattling in his chest–but Lucifer’s hands are pressed flat against the cool wall behind him, fingers wordlessly easing magic into the stonework to search for signs of ancient curse-work.  

“I think everything will work out in the end,” Diavolo says, calm and measured, yet light and playful–his words are vague enough that Lucifer’s eyes narrow. 

Desperation is a heady, powerful drug. 

It would make perfect sense for Diavolo to kiss him now, when their tension is at an all time high, when the harsh need for survival is offset by the human desire for comfort. There is a heat in the other’s motions, in how Diavolo’s hands twitch to explore Lucifer’s body, but none of the desperation that Lucifer would expect from a rowdy, passionate encounter in an ancient, abandoned tomb.

“Why is that?” Lucifer scoffs. Why does he have such confidence? What does he know that Lucifer does not? 

Lucifer is no stranger to dangerous situations–curse breaking is the equivalent of bomb diffusion, essentially. Including all the morally dubious, soul rotting side-effects of knowing how to build those bombs. So Lucifer, who has on more than one occasion thrown himself into death’s arms only to come out victorious, should not be more frantic than Diavolo, a fucking chancellor to a prestigious magical academy. 

A man that spends more time sitting inside, filling out paperwork, and guiding young, impressionable minds than anything else should not look so calm.  

“Because you’re here.” Diavolo grins, a boyish honesty to his words. A record audibly screeches in his head. Lucifer blinks, magic stuttering to a halt at the other’s words, peppering out against the unforgiving stone. 

“You’re Lucifer Morningstar–world-renowned curse-breaker.” Oh, he’s playing at Lucifer’s pride in the best way, and Diavolo knows it. “You have more accolades than most of the staff. You’re the best person I could have possibly been trapped with in a place like this.” 

Diavolo raises the hand from Lucifer’s hip to gesture at the tomb around them, before reaching down to prod at one of the hands Lucifer has against the wall, urging until he laces their hands together. Residual magic sparks off Lucifer’s hands, and Diavolo rubs his thumb into the nooks between his knuckles.

“How could I not think everything will be fine?” 

If Lucifer were Mammon, he would be spitting vehement dissent until the moment passed. If he were Levi, he might spontaneously combust. If he were Satan, he–Lucifer doesn’t have time to ponder what his stupid brothers would do when faced with such shameless praise. His parted lips speak no words, Lucifer knows that he likely has a few precious seconds before Diavolo teases him on his speechlessness–

–Diavolo kisses him, and it wipes away all coherent thought anyway. 

-

-

-

Lucifer, a healthy thirty-something year old man, is not a virgin. 

(Granted, most of the people he sleeps with tend to not have any knowledge of what he truly does. Being a world-renowned curse-breaker has its perks, but most people that find out his profession tend to be a little put off. Professor has a much more respectable edge to it, not that Lucifer’s been able to think about anyone but this absolutely infuriating chancellor.)

With this thought in mind, Lucifer will kill both Diavolo and then himself before he ever admits that Diavolo manages to work him into, dare he say it, a mess. 

He’ll only acknowledge that Diavolo’s plans to completely blindside him with his honesty worked perfectly, much to his chagrin, however much Diavolo denies there being any kind of planning involved. (Lucifer hears Diavolo’s infuriating, lilting voice, full of amusement: How could he have planned a cave-in, Lucifer? Lucifer has too much faith in him!) 

Regardless, Lucifer flourishes under Diavolo’s touch, the hand on his neck tracing back to fist into his hair, the hand laced with him against the wall refuses to let Lucifer go. 

He’s sure that he doesn’t smell great, that they’re both covered in layers of grime–they’ve taken the best efforts to keep clean with what they have available, but Diavolo bites at Lucifer’s neck like he smells and tastes like a fucking delicacy, and Lucifer lets out a gasp too loud in the echoing chamber. His mouth snaps shut, fierce blush crossing his cheeks, but he can feel Diavolo’s smile against his skin. 

“Lucifer,” Diavolo purrs, and Lucifer tosses a halfhearted glare up through his lashes at the ornately carved ceiling at nothing in particular. Spares a moment to wonder for the owner of this tomb, and if they ever had someone that said their name just the way Diavolo says his.

He shivers at the thought. When Diavolo says his name again, it’s accompanied by a gasp turning into a muffled shout, bitten into the exposed skin just above the collar of Diavolo’s leather jacket when Diavolo slides a thick, muscular thigh between Lucifer’s legs. 

Diavolo presses the weight of himself, slotting perfectly against the spaces of Lucifer’s body–Lucifer’s free hand flies to grab Diavolo’s bicep, marvels in the flex of it under the fabric. 

“No one’s here, Lucifer,” Diavolo murmurs–Lucifer somehow spares another moment to curse him for this, for the quiet intensity that Diavolo only displays in the tenderest of their exchanges. Granted, before this, it was quiet evenings in the faculty room, a coffee gifted after a sleepless night of grading papers. Now it’s Diavolo grinding against him. 

“You don’t have to hide your voice.” 

Lucifer narrows his eyes, deciding that he’s been pliant and demure for long enough. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Lucifer replies, almost nastily, but it holds no true malice and Diavolo’s always been a sucker for Lucifer being a bit cruel anyway. Lucifer would have to be blind to not notice that when others shy away from his harsh tongue, Diavolo takes to it like breathing. 

It’s a quick, easy motion for Lucifer to slide the hand from Diavolo’s bicep to his hair, to grab tighter onto Diavolo’s short red hair. Dirt streaks across Diavolo’s cheek from somewhere, and Lucifer has to fight to hold onto his feral lust, instead of the foreign burst of affection, the desire to dotingly wipe it away with his thumb. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” He asks, and the question comes out quieter than intended. 

“I want a lot of things, Lucifer,” Diavolo admits, and truly, his honesty will be the death of Lucifer. His head tilts into Lucifer’s hand, melts into his grip. “Pretty much all of them involve you.” His amused, lidded eyes drip with intent so pointed that Lucifer almost balks at the weight, hesitant at the promise Diavolo offers so freely. 

Lucifer will forever claim his apprehension is a mix of exhaustion and concern for their situation, not an oppressive doubt, the latent insecurity that shades all of Lucifer’s decisions. 

But when Diavolo shifts back to clumsily undo the button and zipper to Lucifer’s pants, slipping his hand in, cupping over the thick line of Lucifer’s cock through his boxers, Lucifer finds it hard to doubt the other at all. Groaning through grit teeth at the new, too-close friction, Lucifer tries to jerk away. Diavolo takes his face in hand, stares directly into his eyes. 

“Just, just let me,” Diavolo stumbles over a laugh, huffs the rest of his sentence, his fingers dragging over the head of his cock, dampening the fabric with his precum. It makes Lucifer feel like a teenager again, each breath too hot in his lungs, nearly delirious with want.

Diavolo hisses when Lucifer tries to reach for his cock as well, batting the other’s hand away, warning, “Lucifer.” 

While Diavolo is a powerful mage, there’s generally a difference in the level of skill between himself and Lucifer. Lucifer’s talents lay in the practical, in understanding the groundwork and complexities of something in front of him, something tangible. Diavolo is brilliant in his mastery of diplomacy and the theoretical, the open, endless possibilities that magic and its future leaders will present. 

Physically, though... Not by much, but Diavolo is taller. Diavolo is broader. Lucifer is aware of his own physique, pleasant to look at, although slightly softened by the last few months of grading papers and helping students get uncursed by their own experiments. 

Diavolo has a natural strength to his motions, a warrior’s confidence, a king’s authority–but Diavolo is an educated, if not eccentric, man. Lucifer has never seen him resort to paltry shows of brute strengths for anything his mind could conquer.

So when Lucifer makes another attempt at getting in Diavolo’s pants, Diavolo pins Lucifer’s hand against the wall by his shoulders. The jarring impact of the back of his hand hitting the stone wall sends an unexpected thrill through him, sends something like magic through his nerves, setting off his synapses. The novelty of it. Of Diavolo, so aloof, so charming–the intensity of his force is exhilarating, and Lucifer does not quite know how to temper the want in his chest at the sight of it. 

Once Lucifer relents, folds to this interesting new sensation, Diavolo finally gets a proper palming grip on his cock through the boxer briefs. Lucifer groans, not entirely muffling his voice, but the hand in Diavolo’s hair tightens again, and he presses his lips to the shell of Diavolo’s ear so that the other can hear how he feels. It works as intended, because Diavolo lets out another quiet curse, his impossibly warm, big hand stroking faster along Lucifer’s shaft. 

In the end, it’s easy to let himself get swept up in Diavolo. The angle is awkward, but Diavolo’s enthusiastic motions are consistent enough that Lucifer feels pleasure building low in his belly. Diavolo’s grip on his wrist loosens to the point, where his motions are jerky enough that somehow, he’s not sure which of them cause it, their hands lace again. 

The act is so intimate that it almost startles a laugh out of Lucifer, or it would have, if Lucifer had any air in his lungs left to spare for such things. 

It is laughable, to have them hold hands like this when the act they’re engaging in is so shameless in itself. There is nothing romantic or intimate about how they’re pressed against the wall of a long forgotten tomb, Diavolo’s hand shoved down his pants and Lucifer desperately holding onto him as Diavolo threatens to tear him apart from the inside out. 

Lucifer is exhausted, strung out, his mana deficient a hollow ache inside his chest, but Diavolo’s touch is everything. Distantly, he wonders if Diavolo is adept at any kind of healing magics, but no, Diavolo is just as magically depleted as he is. There is no other reason for the scorching heat between them other than their own stupid libidos. 

Lucifer can barely breathe, his nails dig into Diavolo’s skin hard enough to leave bright red, crescent marks in both the nape of his neck and the back of his other hand. Pleasure shoots up his body at the too-dry strokes, his toes curling as he rocks into Diavolo’s steady form. He kisses Diavolo, wet and messy. Their teeth clack, Lucifer bites down on Diavolo’s lower lip hard enough that he tastes a hint of blood, sharp and coppery in his mouth. 

Diavolo keens, and the sound is so wanton, so needy, that it makes Lucifer’s entire body shudder. 

Lucifer’s orgasm is a surprise that shoots through him like a flare. When he cums, he lets out a strangled cry at his release into their kiss– the sound swallowed by Diavolo’s greedy mouth. He arches against Diavolo, his entire body caught in a thin line of tension. He screws his eyes shut, shaking as Diavolo’s hand continues to work him through each wave of raw pleasure. 

Diavolo talks him through it, murmuring quiet words of encouragement that would have Lucifer snarling were it anyone else. Diavolo does not mean to be patronizing, a voice deep inside Lucifer knows, and in the dreamy, post orgasm-haze, he clings onto it. He clings until his cock becomes too sensitive in his boxers, his body twitching away from Diavolo’s thorough touch. 

It is now that he realizes the uncomfortable situation of having cum in his pants, a truly disgusting sensation as it drips down his thigh, embarrassingly coats the front of his boxer briefs. 

“Don’t say anything,” Lucifer growls, and Diavolo pets his hair gently. Lucifer refuses to admit that it feels nice. 

“I wasn’t going to,” he promises, and before Lucifer can say anything else, he feels the accidental bump of Diavolo’s hard cock against his thigh. Another flash of embarrassment crosses his features at his own selfishness, easily reminded of how Lucifer had so desperately chased his own release in Diavolo’s hands. 

“Don’t get that look in your eye,” Diavolo croons, pressing an affectionate kiss to the side of Lucifer’s jaw. Lucifer stifles the instinctive reaction to jerk his face away, cheeks burning bright red at the action. “I wanted to do that for you.”  

“I thought I said not to say anything,” Lucifer says, but then his hand is reaching down to cup Diavolo’s cock in hand, “And who said we were done?” 

“Let me down,” Lucifer commands, still breathless, unsure of why he’s requesting that they move positions. What Diavolo thinks is going to happen when they both get to the ground is just as much of a mystery to Diavolo as it is to Lucifer, although there’s a stunned, somehow still turned-on part of Lucifer’s brain that demands Diavolo kiss him on a horizontal surface. 

Maybe they’ll use some of their water rations to clean themselves, that way Lucifer can get on his knees, slide between Diavolo’s legs. Take the other into his mouth, heavy, thick weight of it on his tongue, and reduce the man to the same level of incoherency that Lucifer dreamily feels. 

Diavolo, the hapless fool, does his best to help Lucifer accommodate the new uncomfortable wetness in his pants, but his attempts are quickly in vain. With a quiet oof, one of his feet tangles with one of Lucifer’s, and they crumble to the ground. 

Lucifer lands unceremoniously on his ass, Diavolo on top of him. Diavolo’s hand reaches out to catch himself, bumping into a stone previously unnoticed. The stone shifts, unexpectedly, but what’s more of a surprise is the sharp sudden singing of triggered magic– –still reeling from his own orgasm, Lucifer reacts on instinct alone, one hand reaching out to grab a fistfull of Diavolo’s shirt, clutching him close to his body, another to sweep his arm up to cast a wide barrier around them. Diavolo grunts as his knees bash into the rough ground, propped up between Lucifer’s spread legs. He steadies himself on Lucifer’s knees, head twisting to turn around when nothing shoots out at them–

“Is that–” Diavolo begins, as Lucifer breathes, “–An exit.” 

---

Once they meet up with the rescue team, Lucifer has to handle Mammon being annoying and fretting over him while he’s got dried cum in his pants. That’s the end. I didn’t write it, but just know that Diavolo cannot stop grinning. Mammon’s like, what the hell man, i just SAVED YOU?? and lucifer is like, YES YES now can we PLEASE get the fuck out of here

i’ve been feeling kind of self-conscious about my obey me content recently so... thanks if u got this far huheuehe 

#ch: lucifer #ch: diavolo #pr: dialuci #writing #spicy content

[midnight1990]

Good Raven Chapter 1. Cofio — Remembering

July, 1995

As I unpack my trunk in the dusty, dingy room above the shop where my uncle, two brothers and two sisters live, I feel the slight dread of not knowing where my future will lead.  I’m of age now and done with school, so finding work and avoiding trouble should be my first worries, but it ain’t just me I have to worry about. I can’t let the babanod grow up here for much longer — it’s eaten them and me for three years already.

We live in Knockturn Alley, the street off of lovely Diagon Alley where all of the things your decent witches and wizards won’t meddle in are sold; bought; traded or just plain found. In my uncle’s shop is sold potion ingredients, and because this is Knockturn Alley, they’re not normal ingredients — poisons; live creatures; contraband that he (Uncle) said if I ever told someone about he’d hex me for 7 years straight. He also threatened to feed me on only cold gruel if I sold anything cheap, ‘cause once I was all moved in those three years ago he was leaving me at the counter to haggle and sell while he went off to the Cauldron for drinks, or Borgin’s to try and buy even more nasty supplies to bring back to his own business.

I should be honest when I talk about the things we sell — they’re rather compelling. It’s a bit exciting to know that the fungi you’re holding (with a handkerchief that’s been charmed to keep the nerves in your hand from suddenly burning and losing all function) are one: that bloody dangerous and two: can put you on the ministry’s list of “Most Dark and Dangerous in Illicit Magical Trade”. Some of the things that the Ministry comes up with!

As interesting as my uncle’s business can be, me and the kids need our own place to live. It’s just too, well, dark in this alley. Ninety nine percent of the people who come through this place are just trying to get their business done; do their shopping — however ill-intentioned it may be — and go home, but that one percent that’s not so good is too noticeable for any decent body to want to raise four little ones here. I’ve been followed by a hag who wanted my fingernails (taken from a living witch or wizard, they’re more useful); groped by warlocks both drunken and sober; sang at by more drunken warlocks (some ditty with lyrics like “I once had a lass with a nice round ass” and it got even nastier) and I’ve even seen duels that ended up in the Prophet! One time, a curse missed its intended target and hit an old wizard who was just trying to get home with the flesh-eating slug repellent he’d bought! The poor old grandpa! I hope he lived.

I go into the smaller room across the hall where the boys sleep and of course Llon’s trunk is sitting wide open on the bed he and Afon, who’s only three, share. I see his rumpled up belongings and I know he scrambled to find his wand as soon as he got up here; I hid it in his trunk as soon we boarded the train to come back for his first summer holiday (and the rest of my life) so he wouldn’t try any last minute jinxes. Sometimes I’m amazed at how easily he obeys me, then again his most vivid experience with a female relative other than me is of Mam throwing him outside at night — all night — so she could drink and have a shag with that big warlock she came home with. He was nine, I was 15 and we were all lucky that it was spring holiday so’s I was home.  I don’t know how they found out, but when the ministry officials who deal with family problems came a’visiting two days later, I was able to convince them to let the kids remain at Mam’s house so long as I was allowed to be there, courtesy of the school and a satisfied ministry witch. I had to write and beg Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore himself to let me skip a few weeks. I remember feeling quite touched when the first two came to visit, a ministry witch in tow. I don’t think Dumbledore even considers his students well-being outside of Hogwarts.

Professor Snape was my head of house — good ol’ Slytherins looking out for each other — and I distinctly recall the feeling I had when I greeted him and McGonagall at the door that he’d been waiting for something like this to occur. You get that feeling when he looks at you sometimes - that he knows things about you.

I had expected McGonagall to be much less kinder than she actually was — more grave and pitying. She was certainly that way with Mam, “Eira, what have you gotten yourself and your family into?!”

Snape mostly sat all stiff in the chair I’d offered, his spidery black eyes glancing everywhere they could, taking in my raggedy siblings, Mam’s wan expression and the Welsh words doodled haphazardly on our cottage’s stone walls. Words like cariad — love — which had a bright pink heart drawn beside it and calon which had an arrow pointing from it to the rosy heart.

Witch, Welsh and Slytherin. That’s me. Even my name is Welsh, though my dad is English (obviously, my surname is Burke after all): Branda — brân dda — raven good; Good Raven. I have a middle name that isn’t Welsh at all, though; Patreva. Something Latin like what so many of our kind in Britain have — names like Draco, Severus or my Tad’s name, “Nicander” which may actually be Greek. It’s fancy and magical sounding. I’m the only one of my parent’s brood with any name like that — something about a Naming Seer who suggested it for me, but they never went back for their other four kids’s names. The younger ones have a Welsh name and that’s it. I like Welsh names quite a lot, though. Some of the names wizarding parents give their children are too — well — ostentatious is a good word.

Anyway, McGonagall, Snape and the quiet little ministry witch with the clipboard came to a decision: I could stay at home with Mam and the kids while the school year continued as long as one: Mam wasn’t bringing her “gentlemen friends” home anymore and two: I would take remedial lessons in all core classes the following school year.

“Of course, you will receive some lessons by post this spring and over the summer, miss Burke.” McGonagall can be so caring, sometimes.

“Your head of house has stated that you are among the more reliable students at Hogwarts, miss Burke.”

The little ministry witch hadn’t spoken at all to me, only to Mam and to my professors, but now she was gazing at me with what I believe was meant to be a placating — if somewhat sharp — look.

“He says you are quite skilled in his potions class as well as in mentoring the younger students.”

The look on Professor Snape’s face suggested this was meant to be unspoken. I’ve never had problems with Snape; he’s certainly a terror to many (okay, most) students, but he’s only ever had clipped praises or short orders for me to teach the first years how to behave without their parents around to guide them and comfort them and all that. A lot of the prefects were shite at that kind of thing.

Life at Mam’s with the kids was alright for awhile — could’ve probably gone quite tolerably if she hadn’t gone off to the Leakey Cauldron and met some bloke who took her to his flat in wherever-the-hell-it-was. Whatever they did in those six days she was gone, it was bad enough that he went to Azkaban, but not interesting enough for the Daily Prophet to report on. Mam got off, but us kids had to go live with the only relative who was willing to take us — Tad’s second-or-something cousin whom he’d done business with before Mam kicked him out: Mr. Donius Burke, purveyor of dark and illicit potion ingredients since 1974.

Fuck.

***

“Oi, girl! Come down here now! I need you for something!”

Calm down old man, I haven’t finished folding my jumpers yet. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s already got a task for me, even though I’ve only been off the train for two hours. Sunset’s nearly come, and I don’t want to be outside in Knockturn Alley after dark, which ought to spur me faster down the stairs to see what he wants. Making him wait can feel too good though - not that he’s not willing to stomp his way up here which, as I put my last woolen top away, I can hear him doing. Thump, creak; thump creak; the ancient wooden steps groaning loudly as always. Has he still not fallen through them?!

“Are you going deaf?!”

I turn my head to look at him there, his reedy frame silhouetted from the dim light of the hallway. He hasn’t changed in the ten months since I’ve last seen him, and he hasn’t since we arrived here three years ago; grey hair slicked back, his aging face freakishly smooth without a hint of stubble (does he shave, or did he magic the hairs off?).

Before I can say anything he’s stepped into the room to stand over me.

“Get down there, now!”

He points his finger so forcefully that it’s curving up towards the ceiling, and I have to keep myself from glancing up to see if it’ll confuse him. He follows me out of the bedroom and down to the back of the shop, where Llon and the other two kids are on the floor playing with Mouser, the cranky black cat we keep to eat any mice or cockroaches in the the building.

Gwenyn is nine and has long blonde hair like Mam, round hazel eyes and a pink mischievous face. Next to her is five year-old Ffionwyn, who’s brown hair will turn nearly black like Tad’s and mine someday. For now, her head’s as shiny as a chestnut, with a pale face and a shifty quietness about her - probably because she’s been growing up in this dark hole of a place.

“Here”. A small roll of parchment is pressed into my hand.

“Take this to Aunt Onyxia, she’s been expecting it all day.”

He nods his head towards the children - “You can bring back the other one, as well.”

Of course, he’s talking about Afon, the youngest of the family. Three, dark haired and quiet like Ffionwyn, he had to come here when he was just four months old! Unwilling to keep a baby where his customers could hear him crying, Uncle struck a deal with the ministry officials who’d arranged for his guardianship — he would have to remain the legal guardian of Afon, but would be allowed to shunt him off to another adult so long as they were nearby and had no criminal record — a relative preferred. Enter Aunt Onyxia, Uncle Donius’s first cousin.

Onyxia Burke runs a “gift” shop right at the end of Knockturn Alley where she sells candles, cheap jewelry and clothing items, all of which are enchanted for various purposes; making someone fall in love with you; manipulating another’s dreams; even changing their moods or emotions. I hope she’s been keeping Afon away from her shit.

As I step through the door of my uncle’s shop into the balmy night air, I glance up at the old wooden sign hanging above the door: “Apothecary” it reads, surrounded by engraved bats, spiders and toads. I force a heavy breath through my nose as memories come creeping up again, for we used to sell those things — well, Mam ‘n Tad did - before everything went to Hell.

Mam ‘n Tad were gatherers and procurers of potion ingredients. Magical plants and animals, of course, some of which you must have a special permit to collect, but also things that are not so magical — bats, rats and adders; green things that grow in your back garden like nettles and dandelions; even farm animals like chickens and goats, the latter of which produce bezoars —hard stones that form in their gut and which counteract poisons.

Things that could not be grown or raised near our home (a dragon in the barn might’ve been a bit troublesome) we would search for. This was the best part of my family’s livelihood. Tad would research where things could be found, and we would gather our equipment and head off to some chosen spot ready to work.

He taught me to do many things without magic, which I never knew was unusual for our kind —until I went to Hogwarts. Nobody else knew how to butcher a chicken or start a fire without a wand (except maybe a few muggleborns, but even most of them didn’t know how, either)! My classmates didn’t seem to know what to make of me until the incident with Hagrid’s giant chicken.

One of Hagrid’s roosters had grown to a rather impressive size, comparable to that of a Shetland pony (he had to have charmed it somehow). Well, one day it managed to escape the coop and terrorize the courtyard where all of us first years were learning broom maintenance. Madam Hooch was knocked over before she even saw it, and a boy called Derrick attempted to scare it by kicking it away, his robed arms flapping all around him whilst yelling at it to go away. Unfortunately, Drumsticks now thought Derrick was trying to start a real cock-fight — chest to chest, wings flapping and spurs kicking!

Before it finished its little war-dance with his head bobbing low, neck-feathers puffed out trembling, I’d managed to grab one of the brooms off the work table; as soon as Drumsticks began to step towards Derrick I ran towards that overgrown alarm-clock and jabbed it as hard as I could with that broomstick!

I won’t say it was a smart idea, but the frustration I’d felt over those first weeks at school — people giggling behind their hands when I spoke in my Welsh accent; discovering that students in other houses whom I’d wanted to befriend would scoff at the idea of hanging around with a Slytherin — seemed to take hold of me. It felt good when the broom’s handle hit Drumsticks’ chest, shocking him backwards and confusing him so. It’s likely a good thing that Hooch had finally recovered herself enough to properly stun that scaly-footed bastard before I’d lost my mind completely — that broomstick was starting to feel like a skewer.

Dinner that evening consisted of a hearty chicken soup, platters of little chicken pies, mashed potatoes, boiled peas and fresh, steamy bread rolls on the side.

Oh, and most everyone in my year stopped calling me “Spleens”.

Tad had been bi— Tad had been given the boot by Mam by the the time I’d started school, and in the summers I’d been the one to continue most of the hunting work while Mam settled herself with tending the garden and foraging for plants. Mam knew the work alright, but she’d mainly been the one to keep records of what was brought home; researching the markets and packaging items properly. Didn’t take long for Tad’s absence to start its work on her though, did it? A little kid can only hunt so many kinds of creatures, and of course I couldn’t have a permit to collect things like doxy venom or dragon eggshells, nor could I travel more than a few miles from home.

Soon the goats were sold to another ingredi-wizard, then any magical plants in our garden that required consistent tending died. I didn’t understand how that could’ve happened, not at the time anyway. Mam was good at hiding her drinking back then. Since we were no longer able to provide the great amount of products as before, businesses started abandoning us for more reliable resources.

Sometimes — just every once in awhile — Tad would show up for a visit.

“Only a few days” I imagine Mam whispering harshly, fearfully, her eyes darting ‘round as though expecting whatever forces demanded they keep apart to come bursting out of her cottage’s walls.

He always went out to try and gather more for us to sell, did Tad. He didn’t take me anywhere with him that was outside of the county, though. The last time I went with him was at the beginning of summer after my third year at Hogwarts. He looked so much older than I’d remembered, or perhaps I hadn’t paid enough attention during his previous visits? Grey streaks were beginning to shoot through his thick black hair, which hadn’t been cut in years. He walked slower than I was used to, moving like his body had turned all sore and stiff; his head constantly swiveled around as we worked, as though the very land that surrounded us could not be trusted.

“Don’t let your sisters and your brother stay inside all day. Teach them how to look after themselves, better than your mam or I have done for ourselves”.

Until he said that, it hadn’t really occurred to me just how reckless my parents were compared to those of my classmates. Before Tad had been forced to leave, he and Mam had thought little of hauling me, toddling Llon and squalling Gwenyn to all kinds of strange and exciting places — places I now know where most parents wouldn’t allow their children to set foot. When they needed to collect dragon eggshells from high up in the mountains, us kids sometimes went along.

I learned where to find snakes before I was seven; how to untangle wire snares without slicing my wrist open when I was eight. I nearly drowned in a lake searching for plimpys — round little creatures with long legs you can tie together — Tad said that’s how Merpeople deal with them because they consider them pests.

My parents also enjoyed firewhiskey. Many times after we’d spent a long day trekking through bracken for mokes and doxy eggs, or slogging around in muddy ditches for flobberworms, Mam ‘n Tad would build up a fire. We would toast sausages, slices of bread and even apples for supper, while two of them added the throat-burning drink to their meal. I can’t recall the bottle ever not being empty the next morning.

The drinking didn’t interfere with much until after Tad was gone.

It’s a wonder all of us kids have lived to see three.

I worry Afon won’t recognize me, after I’ve stayed all year at Hogwarts instead of returning to the Alley during holidays. I know I have a responsibility to my siblings, but the Triwizard tournament and its accompanying delights were hard to resist. Uncle was furious when I refused to return to work at Christmas, while Onyxia wrote that I should try and catch a wealthy boy from Beauxbatons, though a Durmstranger would do.

By the time I make it to Onyxia’s front door the few glass street lamps holding charmed candles have sprung to life, casting faint and eerie shadows. I’ve only just touched the brass kneazle-head knocker when the door is wrenched open from behind.

“It’s about time - oh, Patreva! I hadn’t realized you’d returned already!”

I curl my lips into the sparest of smiles — it’s often a struggle to remain polite with this woman. Patreva is my middle name, not my real name. I don’t even know what it means, and Mam ‘n Tad always avoided using it.

“Noswaith dda, Modryb. Sut ydych chi?”

The pleasure I feel when I speak Welsh at Onyxia is the same as ever: sweet but all too bloody short.

“Patreva Burke! You know far better than to speak that way, to me!”

As if she understood a word I’ve just said?! She’s convinced that any language other than French or Latin is used to disparage her.

“Llon and I came back a few hours ago, Auntie. Uncle Donius sent me to give you this” - I hand her the roll of parchment - “and to take Afon back with me”.

Onyxia stares at the parchment in her hand, eyes narrowing in obvious displeasure.

“Did he send me no money, girl?”

Uh-oh

“I haven’t stolen it, if that’s what you’re thinking!”

Her eyes have gotten even narrower, if that’s possible.

“No, no girl. I suppose...I should’ve expected as much...this time.”

She isn’t looking at me as she says this, rather she’s gazing nowhere in particular at the space behind me, as if suddenly lost in thought...

“Well, wait here a moment, then. Here’s the boy’s belongings.” Before shuffling down her entryway she reaches down and hands me a midsized bag filled with clothes, children’s medicines and very few toys. No tea to be had in her house, apparently. Rude sow.

“Here you are, girl.” Onyxia appears at the door with my youngest brother in tow, his eyes widening at the sight of me and his fist going to his mouth in an image of absolute preciousness.

“Oooh fy mach i! Fy mrawd cy-“

“Speak English to him!” Shrieks the old hag I am forced to respect. “I had to teach him prop—“

But I’m not staying for her xenophobic rant tonight, and neither is fy mrawd bach — my little brother. He’s had enough, and I’ve had enough.

“Goodnight Auntie! Thank you for taking care of him, we need to go back!”

And with that, Afon and I are trotting up the alleyway and into the warm summer night.

Well, I’m trotting; Afon’s on my back.

#harry potter fic #death eaters #order of the phoenix #hp fanfic #lucius malfoy #slytherin #knockturn alley #dark fanfiction #my coping mechanism

[jasonrae117]

This is my first post on Tumblr. I have an ongoing story on fanfiction but I felt like trying something new. I was heavily inspired by @flyingkiki because timrae is too good of a pairing and there needs to be more stories. This is my contribution. I will be using songs throughout since its a band au but only this first chapter will have the whole song typed out. Furthermore all songs in this story exist in our world but for sake of my storytelling some will be "written" as originals by the character while others still belong to their respective artist which I will note.

For part one:

1.Dear Society- Madison Beer (As is)

2. Ribs - Lorde (As is)

3. Like That - Bea Miller and Aurora (Intended as band original)

4. COPYCAT - Billie Eilish (intended as band original)

Bad Idea, Good Intentions 

Part 1

Tim wondered why he found himself at a club on this Saturday night. Him and his friends had just graduated with their bachelor's degree in their respective fields and they convinced him to celebrate with them at this club.

By 'friends' he meant primarily his best friend Connor. The other two guys were more of Connor's friends than his but Tim knew them well enough to consider them his too. However, Connor had called him the day before and practically begged Tim to come. Apparently there was this new band that he knew the drummer and this was their highest profile gig yet and Connor wanted to support his friend by bringing whoever he could. Tim reluctantly agreed, feeling like he should get out more and spend time with his friends outside of college.

Tim already felt like this was a bad idea when he walked into a packed club with flashing lights, a fully stocked bar, and a large stage. 

"Tim! You made it!" Connor walked over to him and gave him a one armed hug as the other was occupied holding a half empty pint of beer. 

Tim smiled at his long time best friend. "Of course buddy, I keep my promises."

Connor dragged him over to the bar where their other friends Garfield and Garth were sitting. Both greeted him with cheers and hugs.

"Dude, this place is fucking great! So many hot girls!"

"Good God Gar, can you keep it in your pants for one freaking night?" Garth shoved the blond playfully and took a sip of his drink.

"What can I say, the ladies love me. I just wish your stupid band played something easier to dance to." Gar crossed his arms and glared at the stage where the four person band was performing.

"This is your friend's band?" Tim directed at Connor.

"Yeah, this is Nevermore! Wally West is the drummer. Jinx is on bass, Argent is keyboard, and Raven is the lead singer and guitarist." He pointed to each of the members.

"What the hell kind of names are those. That Raven girl already has a creepy vibe and she chooses a name like that? What's with the Edgar Allan Poe obsession?" Garfield looked bewildered and shook his head.

"I'm shocked you even know who that is. But dude, it's just their stage names."

Tim looked back to Connor wanting to know more about the band that made him come here. "What are their real names?"

"I don't know." Connor shrugged.

"Are they single?" Garth had asked grinning.

"I don't know about the other two, but don't even try with Jinx, that's Wally's girl." 

The guys entered a discussion about Connor's and Wally's friendship and what his stage name was. Tim heard it was something like Kid Flash but he wasn't paying too much attention. He was focused on the band onstage. 

The song sounded familiar but Tim wasn't big on music. Each member seemed to have their unique style and color but they all worked well together. Wally was wearing yellows, Jinx wore black and hot pink striped knee high socks with a short leather skirt and black mesh top. Her hair was dyed entirely bubble gum pink and wrapped up in two space buns. Argent had black hair with red highlights running through it and an all black outfit with a studded leather jacket. The lead singer, Raven, really caught his eye. She has a short purple bob that fell to just below her chin. 

Her outfit is what really had his mind stopping. She had on a black long sleeved ribbed shirt with a large keyhole neckline, showing off the tops of her full breasts, which was tucked into royal blue shorts that seemed to be barely long enough to even be classified as shorts with frayed edges. Her legs were encased in black fishnet stocking ending in a chunky heeled combat boot. Tim liked to think of himself as a gentleman that Alfred would be proud of but...the woman was hot. She had an hourglass figure but probably the best set of legs and ass he's ever seen. She was almost unreal how incredible she looked. 

The banter of his friends regained his attention as the band switched to another song. 

"Hey fellas, let's go hit the floor, this song is much better!" Garth and Connor finished their drinks and placed them on the bar agreeing to Garfield's request. They looked to Tim when he didn't move. 

"You guys go ahead, I'll be there in a second. I haven't even gotten a single drink in."

Connor threw an arm around him. "That's what happens when you arrive late." He ruffled his hair a bit. "Alright man, we'll try to find a spot close to the stage. See you there." 

With that his friends mingled within the crowd. Tim turned to the bar and ordered a bourbon on the rocks, he wasn't great in heavily social settings like this so he needed to calm his mind a bit. As he waited, his focus returned to the band.

They were actually really good. While he was slightly confused since their music was slower than he expected, the songs themselves were great. The lead singer had a lower voice of an alto but in the next song they started, it was clear she had a wider range. It was smooth when it needed to be but raspy and gritty, adding to the unique sound. The other girls added to the dynamic with their higher notes and he found he really liked it. 

The slow beat of their next song reverberated around the bar, drawing everyone in, particularly Tim. He moved from his spot at the countertop to one of the metal standing tables that was currently unoccupied. It stood to the mid-right of the stage with a small gathering of dancing patrons between him and the stage. He gently placed his hand that held the almost empty glass of bourbon on the surface of the table as he leaned into it. 

The lead singer Raven, he recalled from Gar's description earlier, slowly grasped the microphone. One delicate hand curled around the mic while the other laid gently in the supporting pole. Her almost raspy voice fluttered through the speakers.

 

Don't be cautious, don't be kind

You committed, I'm your crime

The low octave sounded almost sensual and her hand slid down the pole in time with the held note.

Push my button anytime

You got your finger on the trigger, but your trigger finger's mine

Her left hand formed into the shape of a gun and as she 'pulled the trigger' she collapsed her hand save for her single index finger that she spun slowly in a circle. Tim grinned at the small gesture representing being wrapped around one's finger and he couldn't pull his eyes away from how delicate and smooth her hands were. Even from the distance he sat she looked flawless.

Silver dollar, golden flame

Dirty water, poison rain

Perfect murder, take your aim

I don't belong to anyone, but everybody knows my name

Raven removed the microphone from the stand with her left hand and held onto the pole with the other as she slid down to a squat. On the beat she pulsed up and down to the next lyrics.

By the way, you've been uninvited

'Cause all you say are all the same things I did

Tim swallowed, eyes having never left her body he watched as the muscles in her legs contract and saw how her amazing ass peeked out slightly more from her bottoms. The routine had certainly taken a turn to a sexual nature and he couldn't help being turned on by the attractive lead singer. Her voice seemed to just purr in his ear. She rose to her feet again as she began the chorus.

Copycat trying to cop my manner

Watch your back when you can't watch mine

Copycat trying to cop my glamour

Why so sad, bunny, you can't have mine?

Did she just make eye contact with him? Holy shit, she definitely did. And was that a smirk? Was he drooling? Tim wiped at his mouth to confirm that he did not embarrass himself. He shook his head a bit to rid himself of the ridiculous idea that she could pick him out in the growing crowd. Many more patrons, especially the male ones, drew in closer and he found that he only had a small space around his table left. No way she looked directly at him. 

Call me calloused, call me cold

You're italic, I'm in bold

She sauntered to the right side of the stage before flipping around and doing a body roll on "italic" followed by a deeper and more exaggerated one on "bold" where she popped her ass out more. There was a cheer from almost all the guys in the building and a flurry of whistles. 

Call me cocky, watch your tone

You better love me, 'cause you're just a clone

Was Time seeing right? He could have sworn she winked at him as she strutted to his side of the stage. He knew he wasn't imagining things when she deliberately pointed at him accusingly while swaying her hips. Damn it was hot in here. He knocked the rest of his drink back hoping to steady his thrumming heart.

The chorus repeated with her returning to center stage and moving the stand off to the side. She dropped to the floor and threw her legs over the side where some of the guys tried to touch her before a bouncer pushed them back. As she finished the chorus she swung her legs back onstage but pivoted so she was parallel to the edge. One leg straightened while the upstage leg was bent.

I would hate to see you go

Hate to be the one that told you so

You just crossed the line

You've run out of time

Raven brought her upper body down flat with such ease and no doubt incredible core control. She gracefully placed an arm above her head as it turned to look out at the audience all keeping in time with the now soft melody of the song.

 so sorry, now you know

Sorry I'm the one that told you so

On the extended note she curled back up and hugged her knees briefly before sitting up and resting her ass on her heels. Tim was not only impressed with her fluidity and the hot choreography, but the range she held in her vocals. He was starting to think this wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, sorry

Raven bowed her head and sang softly into the mic looking like she was praying for their forgiveness. The music silenced for a beat before she snapped her head up with a devious glint in her eyes, a small curl to the side of her lips, and a quirked brow.

Sike

She got up to her knees and swayed back nearly to the former sitting position before thrusting forward again on each beat.

By the way, you've been uninvited

'Cause all you say are all the same things I did...

...you can't have mine?

She had risen to her feet again through a combination of swaying hips and body rolls. She retrieved the mic stand again and returned the mic to its post before the last lyric and ended the song in the same pose she started with.

At the song's last note the crowd erupted in applause, whistling, and to Tim's displeasure, sexual comments from some of the more rowdy and drunk guys. The band bowed and waved before thanking the owner and the audience and retreated off stage. 

His earlier worry about the band playing songs inappropriate to the occasion was thrown out the window because all parts of him thoroughly enjoyed their last song. He wouldn't dare say that to anyone but damn him if it wasn't true. That lead singer was just so gorgeous and had such a unique and fantastic voice, this must be every guy's fantasy. It was his now but who was he kidding, she must have a boyfriend. Wait...but didn't she wink at him? No, it was all an act. God he needed another drink. 

Tim made his way back to the bar and ordered another bourbon on the rocks. He paid his tab and leaned on the bar, replaying the movements of Raven's body. He felt a little shameful for not watching the other bandmates as the whole song was performed well, but she was too captivating. Probably why she was the lead singer.

 A pat on the shoulder interrupted him from his non-stop overthinking and he turned to see the smiling faces of the friends he came here with. The friends he had completely forgotten about until now. 

"Dude where the hell did you go? We had a great spot just left of center stage! There were a ton of hot girls dancing with us!" Gar waved his arms around almost smacking Garth and Connor. The two just shaking their heads and laughing.

"Not to mention a great view of the performance." Connor nudged Tim and an almost wistful look came across his eyes. Tim swallowed hard again.

"And what a performance that was. Shit that lead singer has a great body." Garth swung his arm around Gar's shoulder.

"And voice." Tim coughed and immediately took another sip of his drink realizing that it didn't help.

Garfield chuckled. "Who was listening to the music when she worked that ass like that. She probably got ninety percent of the guys in here hard by the first chorus."

"And you said she was creepy." Connor poked Gar in his chest. 

He held his hands up defensively. "Hey, that was before I knew she could get down like that! I mean her name is the bird of death, a bad omen. The other girls' names are kinda hot."

"Raven is just her stage name." Tim interjected. He didn't know why he felt like defending her, he quite literally didn't know her at all and this was typical Garfield behavior.

"Woah chill Tim. Got the hots for the lead singer? Wouldn't be the only one. Do you think she's single?" Garth lightly pushed his shoulder and took a seat next to him at the bar, flagging the bartender down. The other two looked at Connor who seemed to have the most information on the girl.

He head flicked back and forth between the two men staring at him before he understood their eager silence. "Look, I don't actually know that much about her. I just know about the fake names and mostly about Jinx. Wally doesn't really talk about the other two and I don't ask." 

Garfield groaned. "Why the hell not? Your friend is the drummer for a hot girl band and you don't ask about their relationship status, or what their real names are?"

"No I don't because that's weird and I'm sure he's told me their names, I just don't remember right now. Not like you'd have a shot with them."  The three men laughed at Garfield's expense and he crossed his arms and pouted.

"I don't see a line of girls wanting to dance with you Kent." 

"It doesn't bother me all that much Logan. Plus, I came here to support my friend not hook up with some random chick."

"Ugh you guys are all lame. I'm heading back out there. This band is playing music more my speed." Gar grounded out and spun on his heel, disappearing into the sea of bodies. 

"Good job Con, you made him all grumpy. Now I gotta calm him down." Garth grabbed his beer and followed his friend.

Tim was now reminded of why he was hesitant to come tonight. He wasn't the best of friends with Garth and Garfield and he came solely because of the desperate plea of Connor. He looked over to the stage and saw the main band playing their hearts out, music blaring over the speakers in an uptempo beat. Although it was more along the lines of typical club music, he found he preferred the darker melodies of Nevermore. 

"Yo buddy! Where'd that big brain of yours disappear to?" Connor waved his hand in front of his face dizzying him for a second. Tim reached and snatched Connor's arm to stop him and dropped it once his motion stilled.

"Sorry, I was just trying to remember something. How are you doing? Enjoying yourself?" 

"Yeah it's great. Awesome way to celebrate getting our degrees. I wish I had someone a little more special with me though, better company than those two numbskulls. How'd they graduate anyhow?" Connor took the seat the Garth vacated and spun facing the bar.

"Well, shockingly, Garth is actually pretty smart and Gar just copies off him when he can. He certainly didn't graduate magna cum laude." The two shared a laugh, lightening the mood once more. "You'll get that someone soon. Why don't you go back out there and see if she's there?"

"I feel like my soulmate isn't dancing in a club right now. I wouldn't be if my good friend wasn't playing for a big audience tonight."

"Fair enough. His band was really good. Do they play often?"

"At smaller venues yeah. I'm sure they'll be playing more here though, if any of the guys have anything to say about it." Connor smiled as if replaying a fond memory. "What do you think about Raven and Argent?"

"They're cool, great voices and Argent is amazing on the keyboard. How she keeps track of all the sounds is beyond me."

Connor let out a lighthearted chuckle. "I meant as attractive women, not their talents. Dork."

"Oh, yeah they're attractive."

"Wow, you're just not into this dude talk are you?" Connor swiveled to face him.

"I'm sorry, what am I supposed to say? I'm not going to sit here and objectify them." Tim looked seriously into his glass. It wasn't his intention to ruin the fun but he wasn't a fan of talking about his romantic interests, it felt too personal even though Connor was his best friend. 

"Sorry Tim. I didn't mean to offend you, just dumb guy stuff. I guess I've been hanging out with Gar squared too much." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Damn Tim really had a way with being a downer.

"Nah, it's all good. I think I'm just constantly in my head too much. Gotta be professional all the time and all that jazz." 

"Yeah man, well I'm gonna check on those idiots. Try to relax and have fun." Connor stood up and began to move before Tim stopped him.

"For what it's worth, I think Raven is the hottest. Her voice is positively sinful." Tim smirked at him and Connor's eyes widened as if Tim had spilt some highly classified secret. 

"There you go man! Hey maybe I can see if Wally can hook us up with a meet and greet." He winked and came back toward Tim to clap him on the shoulder. He started walking backwards toward the mass of people dancing to the music while pointing at Tim and sending him a knowing wink again. Tim just shook his head and laughed. 

#tim drake #Raven #timrae #band au #robrae #bad idea good intention #first post #hopefully this isn't awful #thanks #teen titans

[izzy-b-hands]

Rock/Queentober 2020, Oct. 2nd: Omens

The randomly assigned lad for this prompt: Roger

A quick synopsis: Queen, six sweet black kittens, and superstition. Set sometime around 1975. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“They aren’t omens!” Roger protested. “They’re adorable!” 

“He’s right,” Freddie said. “I’m as superstitious as any other man, but you two are being ridiculous. They’re kittens, for pity’s sake!” 

The six black kittens Roger had found outside, apparently abandoned in a box near the studio, now roamed their rehearsal/recording space. 

Which included one trying to climb up John’s leg. 

“No, I’m sorry, but you are very bad luck,” John said, trying not to look down at the kitten. “Please go away.” 

“Now you’re just being mean,” Roger scolded, and went to pick the kitten up, giving it a soft kiss on the head as it mewed. “I know! How can he be so cruel to someone so cute?” 

“With all due respect,” Brian said. “You had to cross under a ladder, which scared the man on it so he nearly fell off, which frightened the movers across the street who dropped the mirror they were carrying which shattered, and you managed to step on a good few sidewalk cracks during all of it too...to rescue six black cats.” 

“Yeah?” Roger scoffed. “And I’d do it all over again! Wouldn’t I, Mini-Rog?” 

The kitten purred, and Brian gave Roger a look. “Really?” 

“He clearly fits my name,” Roger replied. “But we’ve got to know which Roger you need if you call, so...Mini-Rog!” 

“Brian, Deaky,” Freddie laughed. “How old are you two? It’s just cats! And they’ll only be here for today; I called my mum, and she has six friends who are more than happy to come by and pick these darlings up, to give them good homes.” 

“We ought to warn them, when they come to get the cats,” John said. “It’s only right.” 

“Warn them about what?” Freddie asked. 

“How we found the cats,” John replied. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Freddie sighed. “If you two are going to insist on being this way, then just start working on something, and Roger and I will protect you. We’ll play with the sweet, tiny, kittens, and keep them far away from you.” 

“Don’t say it like that,” Brian muttered. 

“Could jinx whatever song we’re working on,” John remarked. 

“Important point,” Brian nodded. 

Freddie scowled. “That’s enough of this. Roger, help me wrangle them. We’re going to go have a nice time waiting together in the lobby for Mum’s friends, while these two sit in here and work!” 

“Don’t mind that, actually,” John said, but his words went ignored as Freddie and Roger grabbed up the kittens and carried them into the lobby. 

“I cannot believe them,” Roger frowned. “All this, over kittens!” 

“I know,” Freddie sighed. “Maybe they’ll get it out of their system with all of us in here.”

He snuggled one of the kittens gently as it lay on his shoulder, purring in his ear. “You’re just a baby! What could you do to them, hm?” 

The kitten mewed, as if in reply. 

“Exactly!” Roger said. “They’re being silly. You lot are little angels, aren’t you?” 

Three of the kittens meowed all at once at that, and they giggled as they settled in to watch them roam. 

“How much do you think they’ll manage to get done anyway?” Roger asked. “All the while pissing themselves over these horribly dangerous babies being only a room away.” 

“Maybe not much,” Freddie admitted. “But that’s fine. So long as they calm d-” 

There was a screech of tires and brakes outside, and they went to the open window to observe, mindful of the kittens crowding at their feet. 

On the street outside sat a stopped car, the engine smoking. A man stood over the opened hood, frowning, while his passenger, a woman who seemed about his age, leaned out the window. 

“What’s wrong with it?” 

“Not a clue!” the man called back. “Should be running fine, the damn thing is brand new! I can’t figure it out...” 

Roger and Freddie stepped back from the window and adjourned to their chairs, frowning. 

“Huh,” Freddie said. “Well...bad luck for them.” 

Roger only nodded, and their eyes fell on the exploring and playing kittens.

---

“Thank you again,” Freddie smiled as he led the latest family out of the studio lobby. “I’ll be sure to let Mum know you said hello!” 

Five of the six kittens had been picked up now, and thus far, it had been uneventful aside from the earlier problem outside. 

“Could fall asleep sitting here,” Roger murmured, the last kitten asleep and curled up in his half-unzipped sweatshirt. “Mini-Rog has the right idea.” 

“Bit bright in here for that,” Freddie said, even as he yawned. 

Above them, the small ornate glass light fixture flickered twice, went out...and shattered. 

“What the fuck?” Roger shouted, turning quickly to keep the kitten away from the flying glass. 

“Coincidence,” Freddie said softly, nervously, as he carefully walked over the broken glass to help Roger up and away from it. 

“Has to be,” Roger agreed, taking Freddie’s hand and staring up at the shattered fixture and bulb as they moved. 

“Has to be,” Freddie echoed. 

Neither of them wanted to tackle clean up with the kitten still around to possibly get hurt on the glass, so they stayed at the side of the room near the door, that had the least glass spray out towards it. Mini-Rog was plenty happy to remain tucked up in Roger’s sweatshirt, though now wide awake, with yellow eyes peering out at them. 

All three of them jumped when the lobby phone rang. 

“Let me, you two stay here,” Freddie said, and carefully darted around shards of glass to reach the phone. 

“Yes? This is. About the-oh. No, I understand. Things happen, and it’s good you checked before you came down. It’s a shame for him, but we still appreciate your interest. Thank you for letting us know.” 

Freddie hung up the phone, and sighed. “The last family won’t be coming. They decided to test out their youngest around cats, and took him to see the neighbor's cat, since their previous cat died before he was born. Turns out, he’s allergic.” 

“That’s a shame,” Roger said. “Is he alright?” 

“Covered in hives and not very happy, from the sounds of it,” Freddie replied. “God, my landlord will kill me...but I could try and find room for another cat.” 

“I don’t think you’ll have to try very hard,” Roger teased. 

“No, not really,” Freddie smiled. “He’ll have plenty of room and love, even if my landlord can never find out about him.” 

“I could maybe take him,” Roger said. “Didn’t intend to be adding to the family right now, so to speak, but-” 

Brian interrupted him as he charged into the lobby, and sighed happily at the sight of Mini-Rog. 

“Okay. We’ll be okay.” 

“We are?” Roger said, curiously. “Are you?” 

“Chrissie called the other line,” Brian replied. “Squeaky’s been a bit out of sorts, you know?” 

They nodded. It had been a topic of the last few weeks, with everyone concerned for Brian’s dear cat, who didn’t seem old enough to be having such troubles. 

“The vet doesn’t think she’s ill, just...getting old, and sort of succumbing to it?” Brian said, struggling to run a hand through his curls. “They suggested we get her a younger friend. Said she might move about more, do better, maybe even mother them a bit and get some vitality back that way.” 

“So,” he continued with a sigh. “If you two and Mini-Rog can forgive my previous behavior, and if whoever was coming to get him can’t make it...Chrissie and I would be happy to give him a home. Four birds with one stone, that way, you know? Mini-Rog with a warm house and love, Squeaky doing better, and then Chrissie and I don’t have to argue over who the cat choses to fall asleep on whenever we’re both home relaxing.” 

“I think we can,” Roger said. “And you’re in good luck; the last family can’t take him. He’s all yours.” 

Brian took the kitten from Roger, and in the process, peeked at its underside. “Erm. Rog? She’s all ours, you mean.” 

“Oh!” Roger said. “Well, suppose I hadn’t looked at that. The name still fits her well.” 

“Yes, it does,” Brian said. “Hopefully you can forgive me, Mini-Rog. Turns out you were very good luck indeed!” 

He peered around the room as he delicately gave Mini-Rog a kiss on the head. “What on earth happened in here though? Did you two have them climbing the walls or something?” 

Roger and Freddie flashed each other a look. 

“No,” Freddie said. “Fixture must have been old. Finally fell to bits, and wouldn’t it have to choose now to do it?” 

Brian nodded. “You both alright? No glass stuck in anyone?” 

“We’re fine,” Roger said. “We’ll clean up, and meet you back in there. Why don’t you go introduce John to the new family member?” 

“If he won’t be afraid of her this time,” Freddie joked.

Brian blushed. “We both owe you two an apology for that. We were being silly. How many hours were these kittens here, and what’s the worst that happens? A broken mirror, a light fixture? That man didn’t even fall off the ladder, and the sidewalk cracks...I was being ridiculous.” 

“Apology accepted,” Roger smiled, then breathed a sigh as soon as Brian was out of the room. “We can never let them know about the car.” 

“It probably really was a coincidence,” Freddie said. “Just...a good few coincidences all in one day.” 

“Totally plausible,” Roger said, his tone uncertain.

“Right,” Freddie nodded, but he peeked outside to watch the people trying and failing to tow the still-smoking car away, as the third tow truck in a row died as soon as it hit the road the studio was on. 

Purely a coincidence, and nothing more. 

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic #Lee's Rock/Queentober 2020