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creativeashproductions · 4 years

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In the Beginning // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: Reggie (Rhodes)’s older sister is the epitome of cool in his, and his friends, eyes with her in a band. Pushed by a hazel eyed brunette with a huge crush on the eldest Rhodes teen the boys decide to start a band. While at first the band is for Luke’s dream of landing you he finds his passion with music.

Warning: Swearing, angst, fluff, dad!Luke

Words: 4.1k

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing another alive!Luke fic with Luke crushing on his band mate’s sister. Ugh, just imagine Luke suggesting a band to impress his crush only to fall in love with music instead. For my fics it will be Alex Mitchell and Reggie Rhodes until JATP reveals their canon names.

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1992

The guitar case was a familiar heaviness as you walked into the home for the first time in months after a practice. You ached from the long travel, and all you wanted was your bed. The yawn came first, then the startled yell at the living room.

Four pairs of eyes met the girl standing in the entryway, surprised at a sleepover with her brother and his full friends. Eyebrows coming together you shook your head wondering why they had come here instead of the typical Patterson home.

“Hey!” Fourteen-year-old Reggie beamed towards his older sister excited she was back from her weekend band practice. Your eyes blinked at his usual upbeat personality before switching to the brown eyes from Bobby, too shy to full meet yours.

Spread around the living room watching a movie was Reggie’s best friends; the socially awkward Alex, the shy Bobby, and the Patterson boy Luke. The young typically spent their time at Luke’s place, so seeing them in your home was strange.

“Reg, what’s up?” You asked crouching to untie your shoes confused at the sharp audible gasp coming from Luke. Standing straight up, you saw Luke awkwardly looking away with bright red cheeks.

“How was practice?” Reggie inquired with the smile he got from your mom and his dark hair from your dad.

Reggie usually wasn’t interested in your band leading you to wonder what the hell was going on with them. Being sixteen you didn’t socialize with Reggie’s friends, thanks to the two year age gap, but you were happy he had good friends. Well, less than two years between you and Luke.

“It was good. Since when are you interested in Crimson Queen?” You questioned moving more into the room with the four young teens, “You haven’t even touched your bass in years.”

One eyebrow raised you individually looked at the boys in the room all with sheets of paper around them. From a distance, you couldn’t tell what was on them, but it couldn’t be homework. They all attended the same high school while you had done correspondence with the band and a tutor.

“Luke’s parents got him a guitar,” Reggie spoke gesturing to the decent brand new acoustic guitar on the floor beside the Patterson. Luke’s hazel eyes widening as you came closer to the group.

Your hand picking up the guitar to look it over finding it was decent for a beginner, but it was definitely not tuned. The sheer sound made you wince.

“So, you guys want to be a band?” You questioned sitting on the floor beside Luke. The boy shifting nervously, you weren’t blind that he got shy around girls, “Do you guys even play instruments?”

“I got the bass, Bobby can play rhythm guitar, Alex plays dru-“

“I wouldn’t call it proper drumming. It’s just something my therapist suggested with my anxiety and frustrations.” Alex raised his hand leading to everyone in the room looking at the tall male, recently had a growth spurt, with the backward black hat.

“And Luke will learn guitar as well.” You added, looking at the quiet, “How well can you play?”

“I don’t even know how to properly tune it,” Luke admitted playing with his fingers adorned with a ring.

Luke had chosen a cutoff shirt in an attempt to gain your attention to his arms he hoped had gotten more muscled. He had a massive crush on you but with the guys your own age he had step up; he started working out. He actually enjoyed it, but he’d enjoy it more if you were checking him out.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You mumbled glancing out the window at the ocean waves thinking. The house was on the prime real estate edge of the beach all thanks to your well off parents; Dad, a doctor and Mom, an interior designer.

Your fingers tapped on the ripped blue jeans you had chosen that day with the flannel shirt opened over the black AC/DC t-shirt. You started standing up, grabbing Luke’s hand to pull him up as well; the boy’s cheeks grew pinker, and his heart fluttered.

“What?” Luke spluttered, staring at his hand, caught in yours in sheer awe.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You answered, dropping is head to reach in your pocket for your key chain.

The key chain had a few keys on it: one for home, one for your car, one for the band van for gigs, one for the garage, and lastly one for the house the garage belonged to. The boys piled into the car, apprehensive for where you were taking them. The only sound was the radio playing local greatest hits, your foot slammed on the brake at the house of your bassist.

“Well Marty, this song has blown up on the charts. New band Crimson-“

“Holy shit.” You breathed staring at the radio. Your door opened as you sprinted down to the steps that led to the garage. The footsteps of the boys following.

The garage was open already with your band members lounging around the space filled with instruments and amps. Their heads swivelling as you frantic turned the radio on.

“Come on.” You mumbled, turning the radio station to the right one, “Guys listen!”

“-Crimson Queen is an LA-based band making waves in the LA Nightlife and hit the top ten with their newest song Sorry Now.” The radio host spoke, “If you haven’t heard the song before, this is the band’s new single.”

The song was blasted from the radio leading to the four girls screaming the song out dancing around the room. Euphoria was the only way you could call the feeling rising in the bodies of the girls in the place. The room burst into more screams as your drummer. Faith switched the radio station.

“Today history was made, Crimson Queen is an all-female rock band fronted by Y/N Rhodes. They started as a hobby at fifteen, but a year later at sixteen they’ve made waves.” A hit radio station, the second one so far, was talking about your band. Holy shit.

“Lucy, this band is going places. My daughter is seven years old, and she’s telling me this band is the talk of her school. I can’t tell how much Lucy listens to their demo.”

Your eyes saw Reggie having a meltdown of excitement for older sister and her band, and you were so unbelievably happy you should care the moment. You rushed over to Reggie to pull him into a hug.

“Girls…and boys.” Mrs Taylor spoke furrowing her brows at the young boys in the garage her daughter had begged to use for the band. Shaking her head, the middle-aged woman turned her attention to her daughter.

“Hey, Ma.” Dawn, your bassist, spoke spreading her pink painted lips to her perfectly straight teeth too hyped up on energy, “What’s up?”

“First congratulations on the single. Secondly, we’re gonna need to get a personal line for the band because our phone is blowing up.”

A sharp gasp from Dawn before the three of the four girls rushed to the house of the Taylor’s. You hung back to look at your brother and his band.

“So? What do you think?” You inquired with the group, “This idea of yours has to be one hundred percent what you want. It won’t be easy in LA, it will come with hardships, and Reggie Mom and Dad won’t let you drop out.”

The four boys nodded their heads because the excitement they saw in your big break was something they wanted. To be able to connect with people cemented their decision.

“Feel free to hang around.” You suggested glancing around the garage that started it all, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

The Orpheum, Los Angeles, 1995

The crowd screamed as Crimson Queen, the song that started this road played with the girl crouching to grasp the hand of fans. At the beat of the chorus, you stood up eating up the energy of the last show of the tour. You went jumped on the drum riser rocking on the guitar as Faith did her magic.

Dawn on her bass made her way to rock with your rhythm guitarist Sara sharing grins with you still feeling the euphoria of this success. As the song came to an end, your entire band went to the front of the stage.

“We’d like to thank our fans for the last nine months of our world tour. We started this band in LA in 1991, so we thought it fit to end our tour at The Orpheum.” You spoke to the crowd, feeding off the energy as the concert came to an end.

The road crew would load your instruments up in the van to take home after months of travelling. You were so excited to see Reggie, who would be seventeen now, having celebrated his birthday while you had been in Europe. Too excited were shocked as Reggie backstage.

“Reggie!” You exclaimed tugging the teen into your arms, leaning back to take him in, “Damn you grew!”

Reggie grinned not giving a shit you were coated in sweat from performing your setlist, but your eyes went over his shoulder. Standing close and just as excited was Reggie’s friends. Alex was taller, Bobby looked more confident, and Luke could meet your eyes. Luke also had changed, no longer baby faced.

“Sunset Curve.” You spoke, stepping back to look them over, “I haven’t seen you guys in months, how did you change so much!”

“That’s what happens when you go on tour for almost a year.” Luke teased tugging you into his arms for a tight hug.

It was odd seeing Luke taller and more muscled than when you left for tour, and the confidence was honestly hot. You had seen Luke as anything other than your brother’s friend, who tended to stare a little too long.

“You played the fucking Orpheum!” Alex screamed, holding your shoulders with a wrinkled nose at the damp red thin flannel shirt. The girls wandered up behind you each with a grin at the guys.

“Well if it isn’t Sunset Swerve,” Sara spoke swinging her arm over your shoulder with a teasing smirk plastered on her face. Her blonde hair swept up in a bun high on her head from a recent shower.

“Sunset Curve!” The male quartet snapped at the name before they fell back into a happy demeanour. Luke and you both staring at each other with a pink-hued face.

Faith was quieter in the group leaning closer to your band to whisper in your ear, “Jay scored us some drinks. But MJ got us into a party.” Faith’s textured hair tickling your neck.

Grins split the three girls at the suggestion each excited for the party with fellow musicians and plus ones. Sure, the parties had drugs and alcohol, but they were fun and part of the scene. Half of you wanted to go, but the other wanted to spend time with your brother.

“I’ll think I’ll pass.” You spoke up to the girls motioning to the guys, “I’ll head back with them. Meet you at the house later?”

Your black vans moving backwards as you moved to be closer to be flush against Reggie’s side grinning as he bumped his hip against you. Sara, Faith and Dawn each raising an eyebrow at your response since you often dragged them to parties.

“Orrr…we could each take one of them.” Faith cajoled mocha skin gleaming in the light with her hands, tugging her hair into a thick braid.

“You want me to take my seventeen-year-old brother and his friends-“

“-I’m like two weeks from being eighteen-” Luke cut into the conversation buzzing at the possible date, but not date, with the girl he had been crushing on for years. He was pretty sure he was in love with you at this point; he did date a little, but nothing stuck.

“-To a party in Hollywood.” You finished pinning your gaze on the three girls ahead each with mischievous grins. Your cheeks puffed as you breathed out, thinking of the positives and negatives.

Bobby was bouncing on his heels with Reggie leaving Alex shifting uncomfortably in his place. His partially relaxed when Luke squeezed his forearm through the distressed black jean jacket that bought his outfit together. Luke himself was apprehensive on your decision because either way, he got to spend time with you.

“Come on.” Dawn implored, pulling out the big guns with her ocean blue eyes widening into the puppy gaze that did you in each time. Her curtain of short dyed pink hair framing her heart-shaped face.

“I’m going to pass this time. Do some shots for me! Not tequila though, that was a huge mistake.” Faith’s grin widened at having you carry you out of the house in the early morning after a wicked party.

“Did you ever find your tho-“

“Faith!” You hissed turning a bright red at her revelation that you definitely didn’t want Reggie to know. The atmosphere turned awkward as everyone realized what the sentence would end with.

Okay so maybe you had hooked up with a few people over the last three years but nothing permanent. It was fun, drunk fun, but still fun and nothing had gone wrong. Your eyes avoided looking at Luke for a reason you couldn’t decipher.

“I’ll see you later.” You spoke motioning for the guys to follow you to the dressing room you had settled in early in the day. The corner of your lips quirked at the awe on each of the boys’ faces.

“I’m in the dressing where bands become legends.” Reggie gasped circling the room with wide-eyed interest. Alex was interested in the band posters on the walls from previous performers.

Luke, however, was more interested in your curves covered by your sweaty stage clothing that stuck to your form. His Adam’s apple gulped as you grabbed your shower bag moving towards the connected bathroom.

“I’ll grab a shower, and we can head out.” You supplied, “I’ll just need to stop at Rudy’s office for our portion of the concert.”

The guys mumbled a response finding a place to wait without hushed conversations of when they would get to play. Luke’s eyes found yours at the low call of his name from the bathroom; a crack opened he walked over.

“Do you have a sweater?” You mumbled at the taller teen with widening eyes as he realized that you were naked behind the door.

Luke stumbled over his feet, retrieving the black pullover Crimson Queen merch he had had for months now. He had saved up money to buy the merch to support the band. The door closed as you tugged the sweater in the bathroom momentarily before walking out.

“Thanks Lu. I forget to pack a shirt.” Luke awed as your nose scrunched up adorably to the amusement of his friends, “So, do you wanna hit the beach? Or maybe give me a concert in the garage?”

Luke intertwined his fingers in yours as he tugged you out of the room with your bag in hand. His heart fluttered as you held on to his hand even in the little office of the Orpheum’s management for the thick envelope of money.

“Thanks, Rudy!” You called over your shoulder at the short, stout man going over the financials and upcoming performances.

The smell of Sunset Boulevard brought a smile remembering the first time you performed and the small group that had waited outside. The first night of autographs and recognition.

“So, Reg how’s my car?” You questioned the teen who impishly grinned tugging the key chain from his black jeans. You had given him the keys when you revealed Crimson Queen had a world tour.

“Right there.” Reggie pointed leading the group of five to the car that would take them to the garage. Reggie drove with Alex in the passenger while you were crammed between Bobby and Luke; Luke was delighted in your warmth against his side.

While your band members partied, you got a first-row seating to Sunset Curve’s talent in the garage where you had started out. It was amazing to see how much they had accomplished in the three years since they started.

The sudden knock on the door had you flailing off the couch onto the floor with a sheet of paper stuck to your cheek. Your spine cracked as you sat up glancing at your watch, finding it was after midnight, only an hour of sleep after inspiration for a new song.

The door was knocked on once more and coming close the sound of crying could be heard, and you wondered if it was Luke. He had been over a few days in the night following a fight with his parents and needed to crash; helped you were giving dating a chance after his well-rehearsed speech.

Imagine your shock when it was Reggie sobbing, “Reggie.”

“C-can I stay here?” Reggie whimpered cuddling himself into the leather jacket he received at Christmas from you. You had inside in your arms in moments, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are they fighting again?” You murmured to your younger brother content to hold him as he cried. Bringing him to the living room, you held him as he cried humming under your breath the first song you ever let him see.

“Yeah. The music doesn’t work anymore.” Reggie murmured leaning back to wipe his tears off, “Sorry for crashing. I can go stay with-“

“Here. Reginald, you can always stay here.” You soothed the seventeen-year-old boy with sad eyes and a sombre look. His sad eyes shattered your heart, knowing he had suffered the fighting for months alone, “This house is empty Reg. You can move in here.”

His lip quirked up, “Can we play country music?”

“And eat breakfast at night.” You teased him grinning as his lips pulled up into his trademark grin, “The guys can come over whenever they want. I’d actually prefer they know they can stay here, they deserve a safe place to stay.”

You knew that Alex endured living with his parents, who had gone out of their way to avoid him after he came out. Luke couch surfed at your old house, never at Alex’s home; after coming out, Alex didn’t feel comfortable bringing anyone over.

“Good, because they’re outside.” Reggie sheepishly admitted raising his thumbs-up, “Go thinking ahead!”

Snorting the human version of a golden retriever you opened the front door to the house finding two guys in strange positions. Alex was inspecting the light fixture, and Luke was leaning against the wall with his elbow, foot across the other.

“You guys need lessons in the art of pretending you weren’t eavesdropping.” The sigh fell stepping aside for the two to enter the home—each carrying a backpack and small duffle bag for wherever they would have crashed.

The male trio got comfortable in the living room curiously glancing at the mess of papers, sticky notes and pencils. While with good intentions, they didn’t follow boundaries well, even for Alex.

“Whatcha working on?” Luke inquired, leaning closer to a sheet of paper. His pout coming over his face when you quickly tidied up the papers.

“Nothing. I fell asleep on the couch. The label wants new songs.” You groaned rubbing your eyes, “I got inspired last night. Oh! Hey, I took a message for you guys.”

Jogging to your office studio for the band you quickly grabbed the envelope along with the note that you had been given.

“So, Rudy called me, and I had a meeting with him.” You started sitting on the coffee table in front of the trio. The trio leaned forward.

“Rudy?” Luke questioned, pursing his lips together at the male name. While you and Luke were dating it wasn’t official, he was just really nervous with his dream girl liking him back.

“He’s the management for a venue. He asked if our band was available for a concert, but we collectively decided to focus on songs and recording, which you can’t tell anyone about, but he’s in dire need. So, I might have given him something. Specifically a demo of yours and knowing your home situations I gave my information.”

“Okay…so?” Alex questioned, leaning forward. His eyes growing wide as you pushed the envelope in his hand.

Alex quickly opened the cream envelope finding inside a paper along with a mock-up promo poster with Sunset Curve. The squeal was shocking from the teenager as he read the letter and note out loud.

Y/N,

I gave the demo a listen, and we usually wouldn’t do this, but Crimson Queen has been gracious with us. Always mentioning where the band got its start and closing the tour here. To repay the favour, we would formally like to invite Sunset Curve to perform. In the envelope is a mock-up poster as an option for the promo. Get the Sunset Curve’s people to get in touch. I can get the word out to some friends from some labels to come for a listen. Get in touch as soon as possible.

Manager of The Orpheum in Los Angeles,

Rudy West.

“The Orpheum?” Luke screamed, yanking the paper from Alex to re-read it in complete shock, “We don’t have people!”

“But Crimson does.” You smirked, “On a temporary basis Crimson Queen formally offer our manager’s help.”

In his excitement, Luke lunged to pull you into a kiss freezing the room in shock.

“He got the girl.” Alex breathed elbowing Reggie in the side who’s mouth was open at his best friend kissing Reggie’s older sister. The older sister who was the driving force behind Luke wanting to form a band to impress her, “We need to tell Bobby!”

1995 was the best year for Luke Patterson. He got the girl, his band made it, his parents finally saw his dream was worth it.

The sound of music hypnotized the woman as she wandered down the hall to the open door of the large home. Nothing too over the top like Bobby’s mansion, but it was a nice size in a gated area. Your neighbours being Reggie on one side and Alex on the other side with his partner Willie; Willie had skated into Alex and into a love story pretty much.

Resting against the door edge of the designated home studio you saw Luke had moved a rocking recliner in. Softly playing in the room was a soft acoustic song recorded months previous as a surprise for you.

“When are the lessons starting?” You questioned bringing Luke’s attention to your soft smile and the love in your eyes. Luke’s grin widened glancing down at the miniature version of his love-filled eyes.

“Given her legendary parents, I think at two.” Luke chuckled shuffling the baby to the crook of his arm shifting, so you could curl into his side as well. Both eyes gazing at the little baby you had welcomed what felt like yesterday.

Stevie could fall asleep only to the lullaby her father had created during the pregnancy, and he had written. Stevie had Luke’s eyes, and so far her blonde hair had yet to darken so the question of if she’d take after your hair or his hair was unanswered.

“Hey sweetheart.” You whispered to your daughter falling asleep to the sound of her father’s voice in the room. An adorable yawn pulled from her little body as she nestled into Luke’s arms.

“She’s so gorgeous.” Luke breathed tears welling up as he could understand the reasoning behind his parents’ opinions in his teens. He truly felt terrible at hurting his mom now that he felt the love for his child.

“We did good Patterson.” You murmured back to the man who had held your heart since you were nineteen and back from tour. Your finger tracing Steve’s soft cheek, “I think she has your mom’s mouth.”

Luke’s lips lingered on your cheek heart full of love for his family with you and his little girl. He had known since his eleventh birthday he would marry you even if you were a year older. A year that made the difference when he was months older than his friends, so the year felt like two for you. At eighteen when was tentatively dating you, he knew he would marry you. He never anticipated the sheer amount of adoration for the little girl he would have at twenty-one.

God, he loved his life. He made up with his parents, his best friends, had the girl of his dreams, the most beautiful daughter and it all thanks to music. Can you see why he lives and breathes music?

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #dad!luke patterson #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #alive!luke patterson #jatp luke #caitsy and ash productions #jatp au

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blkmxrvel · 3 years

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Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (25) - [CONVERTED]

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

She hadn’t known what to expect for the trial. She’d thought that she’d have to sit in a little box, with a judge towering over her and yelling questions. Or maybe they’d let James ask the questions, even though both Sam and Lucy had told her that wasn’t the way these sorts of trials worked. She didn’t know; she’d never been to one before. She’d watched a court show or two when she was younger, at her parents’ house, but she was pretty sure even then that that wasn’t the way real life worked.

Then again, Y/N was growing ever surer that her own life wasn’t the way real life was supposed to work.

She certainly hadn’t expected for James to be this close, so close that she could smell his cologne and the underlying hint of soap. So close that she could see his eyes, the nervous, uncertain way they would flick in her direction then back down to the table again, as if he was afraid – or ashamed – to be caught looking at someone who was “beneath” him. She hadn’t expected the fear, the revulsion that had welled up within her at knowing that the man who had tormented her for years was now, once again, within mere feet of her.

She hadn’t expected to find herself hating him.

The only thing that gave her comfort, even more than sitting with Sam on one side and her lawyer on the other, was knowing that Miss Kara was also a few feet away, sitting in the gallery with Lena and watching her with kind, proud, protective eyes.

Miss Kara had kept the blanket fort up for a few days, and she and Y/N had slept in it the night previously – but only after Miss Kara had bought an air mattress.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” she’d said, a determined look in her eyes that made Y/N fall in love with her just a little more.

She hadn’t really been able to get much sleep; she’d tossed and turned with images of the trial not letting her close her eyes for more than a few moments. Finally Miss Kara had had enough – they both needed to rest so they would be in top form, she’d said, her voice gentle but authoritative. She’d held Y/N close in her arms and sang into her ear, softly, soothingly, until finally Y/N was able to settle down and get a few hours of sleep.

Nothing had really prepared her for seeing James in the courtroom. Even having Kara on one side, Sam, Lena, and Lucy on the other, did little to quell Y/N’s nerves. The moment she saw him, it all came rushing back.

And then, listening to the reasons for why he had done what he had… was that enough? She found herself wondering. Would it all excuse what he had done to her? She hated that for a brief moment while listening to James’s testimony, her heart had ached for him. The little boy, his family in turmoil and ultimately being abandoned by the father… She could only imagine what James had gone through, what he had thought, how he must have blamed himself. For just a few minutes, Y/N could see the scared boy that James had been. And yet, the boy that he had been was quickly overshadowed by the instruments he had used, the angry scowl of his voice as he beat her. The pain, the bruises, the broken bones…

But at least that’s why she was there – to give voice to her own worst memories.

They had decided that, rather than having Y/N prepare her own statement, she was better at questioning, a call-and-response testimony that kept her head clear and focused, and her answers concise. So Lucy Lane’s voice was soft, gentle as she asked the first question.

“Y/N, what was it like when you first met James Olsen?”

She hadn’t been sure about Lucy at first. There was something too flighty about her, a goofiness that had made Y/N wonder if the thin lawyer with the outlandish clothes was really dedicated to her case. But Sam had sworn by her, and the loud chomping of gum while she pored over the notes to Y/N’s case was offset by the look of sheer determination in Lucy’s eyes, and that had made her feel better. Plus she had seen the tender way Lucy had interacted with her submissive when her boy had brought them all lunch one day, and that had done even more for Y/N’s trust.

“He was nice,” Y/N admitted, toying with the hem of her shirt and looking down at the table. “I saw him… a couple of times when we were kids and he always seemed nice. Really… tall.”

Across from her, James snorted, and Y/N smiled a little.

In another life, would they have known each other? If they hadn’t been matched up by her parents and his – before his father left – would they have ever run into each other? On the street, or in a crowded supermarket. Would she have been charmed by his eyes, by the smile that only seemed to lift one side of his face, by his awkwardness hidden under a sense of false bravado?

Or would she have known to stay away from him? Would she have known that he wasn’t a “nice boy,” as her mother had said; that instead he was a spoiled child who made himself out to always be the victim? That he would try to sway Y/N to feel sorry for him even as he was hurting her, that it was, and would always be, only about James’s happiness, James’s dreams, James’s goals (or lack of), everything James wanted?

Perhaps she would’ve met Miss Kara first. Y/N glanced back out to the gallery and smiled, seeing her in the front row again, watching them. Y/N had been scared when Miss Kara had run out, afraid that she wouldn’t come back. It didn’t matter that Sam was on one side of her and Miss Lane on the other; Y/N only ever felt really safe knowing Miss Kara was there with her.

“Can you tell us what your first day with him as your Dominant was like?”

She’d known this was coming. Sam had held her as she cried, the first time she’d described what that day had been like with him. But it was different, telling one person. How was she meant to describe it to a room full of people? But Y/N took a deep breath and focused on Miss Kara, who gave her yet another reassuring smile.

“He was nice, at first,” she explained. “We were both… nervous. I mean we were just sixteen and I don’t think he was very sure of himself so I knelt d-down and I said that I would help him as much as I could, that I was there for Sir, that I was his.”

“And what did he do?”

Y/N shook her head. “I-I can’t-“

Sam’s hand closed over hers and squeezed, and Y/N glanced at her gratefully. She wasn’t Miss Kara, but it helped.

“We need you to,” Miss Lane said gently. “What did James do when you knelt for him and expressed your desire to help him?”

She closed her eyes.

“He slapped my face and said he didn’t need my help. Then he adjusted my stance because he didn’t like the way I was kneeling, and I had to stay that way for a while. An hour or two.”

“Will you tell us what your life was like, from that day on?”

Y/N sighed. “Have you ever felt,” she said quietly, “like no matter what you do, you’ll never get it right? No matter how much of a g-good girl you try to be, it isn’t good enough? I tried so hard, and I always made a mess of things. I didn’t kneel right. I didn’t cook his favorite things well. I was too smart, then too dumb. I talked too much, didn’t talk enough. Didn’t cry, screamed too loud, I was too n-needy. Nothing I ever did was good enough for him.”

“Okay,” Miss Lane said, carefully stopping the flow of words that threatened to send Y/N out of control. She breathed in, shakily, and concentrated on the table again.

She was glad that Lucy had said she wouldn’t ask any sexual questions; Y/N wasn’t sure she could handle those, not yet anyway. It was hard enough to talk to Miss Kara about things like that, even if things between them were growing steadily more intense with each passing day. It was getting even harder for Y/N to deal with her emotions, things she’d never felt before, wasn’t even sure she was allowed to feel. Things like need. Desire. Miss Kara was always telling Y/N to be open with her feelings, but sex… wasn’t anything that was ever discussed in the Hastings household, and in the Olsen household it was more of… a chore. Something that had to be done to keep him happy.

To close her eyes as he always took her from behind, because he said looking at her face ruined the mood.

At least it had never lasted long. At least he had never lasted long.

Miss Lane moved on to the questions about James’s physical treatment of her. The beatings, the broken bones (and here she offered into evidence numerous medical reports), the missed meals. Kneeling for hours on a hard tile floor. Sleeping in a corner of a dark, cold bedroom with little more than a sheet for comfort. Being humiliated in front of his friends.

Y/N told it all.

Everything she had held inside herself, kept hidden for years… it didn’t matter that Miss Kara wasn’t sat right beside her. Y/N looked out into the gallery, locking her hazel eyes with the soft, tear-filled brown ones that she loved… and told it all. She took a deep breath, dug deep and quietly repeated the words to herself, the words that first Sam had told her when she’d sobbed in her arms that day, and then Miss Kara had reiterated hours later.

It’s not your fault.

“Why did you never use your safe word?”

Y/N cocked her head at Miss Lane. “Safe word?” she repeated, feeling a little dumb.

Lucy Lane nodded. “The safe word that you and James agreed upon.”

“But we didn’t,” Y/N said, confused.

“You didn’t have a safe word established?”

It was one of the tenets of their society, Y/N knew. Well, she knew that now. Before, she hadn’t known that safe words and contracts, mutual agreements, were actually a thing. Growing up she had always been taught that her Sir was to be pleased, he was to be obeyed, and her own needs would be met if she did those things.

She wasn’t told what to do if those needs weren’t met.

“No, I didn’t have a safe word,” she answered, and once again her eyes met Miss Kara’s. “Not with James.”

“So your contract didn’t establish the usage of safe words?”

Contract. An agreement between two or more parties for the doing or not doing of something specified. An agreement enforceable by law.

Miss Kara had told her that just a year before Y/N had been “matched” with James, the government had established that contracts were “necessary and advisable” within their society. Every couple, once a claim was made, was required to go and file a contract, with an itemized listing of rules and regulations, the safe words that were to be used, and punishments that would be enforced within the context of the relationship. It was meant to facilitate stronger protection for submissives; Miss Kara’s voice had grown sad when she said that she wasn’t sure it had worked. If it had, there wouldn’t have been a need for places like McKinley House.

Y/N shook her head. “We didn’t have a contract.”

Lucy’s hand paused over the paper on which she was scribbling notes and she glanced at Y/N, then at James. “No contract?”

It was all for effect, Y/N knew. They’d been over this before; Miss Lane knew there had been no safe words, no contract. Nothing in writing to establish Y/N’s role in the relationship, nothing that outlined how James ought to care for Y/N, and how she should respond in kind. It was Lucy’s plan of attack: show that James, while not caring for Y/N and being abusive, had also actually broken the law. This, she said, would virtually guarantee their win.

Y/N wasn’t sure about that; Judge Schott looked like he was ready to fall asleep.

“No contract.”

“No safe word?”

“No,” Y/N said again. “I had no safe word, and no contract. I didn’t… have anything.”

“So how did you keep safe?”

Y/N sighed, and shook her head again. “Obviously I didn’t,” she said, unable to keep the slight edge from creeping into her voice. She looked over at James, and her heart plummeted a little when she saw the smirk on his face.

It was the smirk he always wore, just before… she curled her fingers against the table, grasping lightly and reminding herself of the other thing Miss Kara and Sam had told her.

He can’t hurt you.

“So you lived in a relationship with a man who broke the law by refusing to employ a contract and safe words, and subsequently abused you frequently? We could even say, every day of your life with him.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes.”

Lucy Lane gestured toward Mrs. Allen-West, effectively ending her questioning of Y/N.

She steeled herself as she smiled at her. She was pleasant enough, Y/N decided, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still the enemy.

“Miss Hastings,” she said easily, “Could you tell us about the house you shared with James Olsen, please?”

She resisted rolling her eyes, wondering if every lawyer was an expert in redundancy. “He was never happy,” she began to explain again. “Nothing I ever did was right, no matter how ha—“

“No,” James’s lawyer interrupted, and Y/N flinched slightly at her raised voice. “I am referring to the house itself. What was it like?”

Y/N drew back a little, confused. “Okay, I guess?” she said uncertainly. “A little small?”

“Not as nice as the one you grew up in?”

“No,” Y/N answered, suddenly a little nostalgic for the large house with its big rooms and soft couches, even softer beds with snuggly blankets. She still wasn’t sure where Allen-West was going with her line of questioning, but she already wished she’d stop. The last thing she wanted to remember during a trial was her former home. Her parents – she hadn’t heard from them in years. And her grandfather…

She missed him so much. He’d have protected her.

“So the house was small.” Y/N was sure that the woman with the perfect hair and dapper tie meant to be kind, but her voice was condescending, as if she were talking to a small child. You’re probably a bratty sub, Y/N thought, and not the kind Miss Kara seems to like. Probably one that throws a temper tantrum every time something doesn’t go your way.

“Was it also comfortable?”

“Yes?”

If Iris Allen-West detected any malice in Y/N’s answer, she didn’t let on as he continued. “Warm in the winter, cool in the summer?”

“Yes.”

“You stated that Mr. Olsen would sometimes make you sleep on the floor.” Y/N nodded, not bothering to verbally respond. She’d already stated as much. “Were you naked when you slept on the floor?”

“Sometimes.”

“But the house was warm.”

“Yes.”

“Were you given a pillow, a sheet?”

“A pillow. And a sheet. Sometimes a blanket in the winter.”

“And you stated that every now and then he’d let you sleep on the bed.”

“The foot of the bed,” Y/N clarified, adding in a mutter, “Like a dog.”

Allen-West nodded, seeming thoughtful, and then smiling at Y/N again. “Were you ever homeless, Miss Hastings?”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand—“

She interrupted her again, leaning forward, and Sam put a reassuring hand on her shoulder as Y/N scooted her chair back an inch.

“In the time that you were with Mr. Olsen, did he ever force you out onto the street, were you ever homeless?”

“No?” Was there a point to all this, Y/N wondered.

But then, with Iris Allen-West’s next question, her defense of James Olsen became clear.

“Y/N, would you ever say that you deserved your punishments?”

Her mouth dropped open a little. “W-what?”

That same damned smile, mirrored by the smirk on James’s face. “You’re a submissive,” his lawyer said smoothly. “Your dominant owns you; his duty is to train you, to make you your better self, to punish you whenever you don’t live up to his expectations. Did you live up to his expectations?”

“I-I didn’t deserve it,” Y/N said shakily. “Not that- not what he-“

“So everything you did was correct?” his lawyer pressed. “You were always good, always obedient, you never smarted off to him, you never broke a rule, and you never left him dissatisfied?”

She could feel the panic start to rise, the endless doubt that had been ever present each day for the last few years, that had only just began to fade, with the persistent gentleness and care of Miss Kara. The feeling that she was always wrong, that she was bad and disobedient, a horrible sub, because she could never do anything right.

“I-I tried,” Y/N said, hearing that her voice was bordering on pleading. “Every day I tried, to do what he wanted to, and I couldn’t—I never—“

“So you admit it, then?” His smile seemed almost feral now, menacing, and when had he stood up, leaning forward on the table, almost towering over her despite how short he was?

“You admit that you were a less than acceptable submissive. You admit that James Olsen frequently had to correct you in ways he saw fit, ways that were permissible because he is your Dominant.”

Now Judge Schott was sat up in his chair, his expression rapt as he listened to Allen-West attack Y/N with gusto.

“You admit that though he was severe, though he may have punished you in ways you didn’t like, that it wasn’t always about you, it was sometimes about James, as a good relationship should be. And the fact that you were never lacking for food, for clothing, for adequate and comfortable housing. And the fact that he was actually a very good Dominant, dedicated to you and your well-being, dedicated to training you in the best way he knew ho—“

“He wasn’t a good Dominant!” Y/N snapped, slamming her hand onto the table. “Not like Miss Kara!”

She was aware that the room had gone quiet. That Schott seemed suddenly interested in her, as did two men in suits sitting in the back of the room. That Sam had softly sworn “Oh, fuck” under her breath, and that Miss Kara was suddenly fidgeting in her seat and Lena had placed a steadying hand on her knee.

The gesture made her irrationally jealous, but Y/N plowed forward, her trembling voice suddenly loud and echoing in the silent court chamber.

“He beat me every day,” she said. “Until I cried, until I screamed. He broke… my bones. Me. I-I didn’t deserve that. And Miss Kara—“

“Y/N,” Lucy put her hand on Y/N, but Y/N shook it off with a glare.

“She’s good. She’s good and gentle and even when I’m ba—even when I’m naughty she’s still soft when she corrects me. She puts me in the corner or… she made me scrub the floor two days ago but she sat in the kitchen with me. She doesn’t beat me, ever, and she won’t.”

“She’s nothing like you,” she spat out toward James. “I may not be a good submissive but you’re not a good Dominant either. Not like her. Not like my Miss Kara.”

She fell quiet then, hating the way Allen-West quirked one extremely forest-resembling eyebrow and said to Judge Schott, “I believe I have made my case, Your Honor.”

The words dismissing them for a recess while he rendered his decision barely registered to Y/N’s ears; she sat numbly in her seat as Sam and Lucy stood up and tried to coax her to go out into the hallway with them. Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d done something horribly wrong, because everyone was looking at her strangely and even Miss Kara seemed unnaturally pale as she came up and took Y/N’s hand, pulling her to her feet and leading her out into the hall with the others.

“M-Miss Kara?” Y/N queried softly, but the smaller woman shushed her with a finger against her lips and a tender look.

“I am so proud of you,” Miss Kara said, and Y/N relaxed when she pulled her into a hug. Y/N rested her chin on Miss Kara’s shoulder and breathed in, letting out most of the tension she’d felt since that morning.

“Really?”

“Really,” Miss Kara assured her, her hand in Y/N’s hair. “You were so brave up there, and you didn’t back down.” She kissed Y/N’s cheek gently.

“You were such a good girl.”

“You did good, kid,” she heard Sam say, and felt the light thump on her back, and Y/N giggled. She nuzzled further into Miss Kara, tightening her arms around her, enjoying the closeness and the comfort… until she heard an unfamiliar sound, a strange clearing of a throat.

She backed away from Miss Kara slowly, feeling the panic again as they both were confronted with the two men in suits, who had been sitting in the back row.

Miss Kara had stiffened, though her arm was still firm and secure around Y/N’s waist as she regarded the men.

“I hadn’t expected to see you here,” she said easily, casting a glance to her side as Alex and Allen-West walked past them, James in between.

“She is a member of Mt. Overland House, of course we would be here,” one of the men replied, looking down at Kara.

“She is Y/N Hastings,” Miss Kara said, and Y/N felt a swell of pride.

She was Y/N Hastings.

The other man nodded coolly, regarding Miss Kara, before saying, “We’ll see you tomorrow in our office, Miss Zor-El. I’m sure you know what we’ll be discussing.”

Miss Kara rolled her eyes as they walked away. “Of course they wouldn’t stay for the verdict,” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s not like they actually care for Y/N’s well-being. It’s all for show with them.”

“Kara,” Lena said, a warning tone in her voice. “Now is not the time to make enemies of your bosses.”

Bosses? Y/N drew away slightly as the realization dawned on her.

The men were Miss Kara’s bosses at the Society. Her government bosses. And Y/N had just blurted out about her Miss Kara…

“Oh, no,” she whispered with a feeling of dread. “I-I didn’t—Miss Kara, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, I’m sorry!”

“No, no, Y/N,” Miss Kara said firmly, even though her voice shook ever so slightly. “You didn’t do anything wrong, little one.” She led Y/N over to a bench and sat down with her, gently rubbing her back.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she repeated. “And they can’t do anything to me.”

Y/N looked at Miss Kara, doubtful. The way everyone seemed to be acting strange, acting worried, and the way even Miss Kara’s face looked pinched and strained seemed to tell an entirely different story.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Miss Kara said, and pulled Y/N closer to her.

“Do you think he’ll… do you think I did okay?”

“I know you did okay,” Miss Kara said. “You did more than okay.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “But do you think it was enough?”

“Y/N, Kara,” Lucy said, coming down the hall toward the door to the courtroom, followed a few steps behind by Alex, James, and James’s lawyer. “Come on, we’re back in session.”

Y/N sat up in shock. They’d only been recessed for ten minutes. It was too early…

Miss Kara glanced at her, and Y/N knew that she felt the same way. It was too early.

“I guess we’re about to find out, little one.”

#madi converts #kara danvers #kara danvers x reader #supergirl #supergirl x reader #HFMWH

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051093 · 4 years

Text

let’s make another | v

words: 2534

pairing: jihyun “v” kim x reader

genre: dad!v, fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, i destroyed myself writing this, implied sexual content, just cute shit tbh

description: in which seven and yoosung visit their favorite baby girl — and you and your husband celebrate your fourth anniversary.

my masterlist.

“Lucy!”

You squint at the house, waiting for her head of haphazard hazel hair to appear any second, but it’s so silent that you can hear the summer breeze threading through your hair. Cicadas chirp in the distance.

“Lucy Kim!” You try again, raising your volume to a shout that bounces around the courtyard. “Get down here! Your uncles are here to see you!”

More silence. A laugh sounds from behind you.

“Well, Yoosung,” Seven quips. “I think it’s time we headed back. It was great seeing you, Y/N.”

You give him a stern look and he puts his hands in the air.

“Or not. Wow. I’ve forgotten how well you mastered the motherly glare.”

“If only it worked on my daughter,” you mutter, drumming your fingers against your hips. “Where in the world could she be?”

“Is she playing hide and seek again?” Yoosung laughs. “Do you remember last time I visited? When you couldn’t find her for the longest time and she was in your closet all along?”

“The day I nearly lost my mind, you mean? How could I forget?” You shake your head. “I would’ve called the police if Zen hadn’t heard her evil cackling while he was in the restroom upstairs.”

Seven sighs fondly. “She takes after me so well.”

“Come on. Let’s go inside for now. I’m sure she’ll turn up.” You drape an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders. “I missed you both.”

“We missed you too,” Yoosung hums. “How are you? How’s V?”

“We’re good.” The three of you walk up the porch stairs. “I‘m working from home to take care of the little maniac, and he’s been going on photography trips regularly again.”

“That’s right. I heard about that. Doesn’t the Korean Museum of Modern Art—” He stops mid-sentence, amber eyes widening. “—you angel. Is that Ph.D Pepper I see?”

You’ve stepped into your living room, an open, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows bathing the area in sunlight. Indeed, the table in the center has been laid out with cans of Seven’s go-to beverage, side by side with freshly baked buns for Yoosung. The boys’ faces brighten upon seeing the refreshments.

“Oh, yes. I ran to the grocery store an hour before you got here.” You gesture. “For Saeyoung, the soda he loves far too much for his own good, and for Yoosung…you like the red bean ones, right? Did I remember correctly?”

Yoosung gives you an elated hug. “Yes! You’re amazing. I complained to Seven the entire way here about being hungry. Thank you thank you thank you.”

They sink into the couch and dig in, satisfied.

“Anyway, what was I saying?” Seven says, now with a Ph.D Pepper in hand. “Oh, right. I heard the Korean Museum of Modern Art wants to open an exhibit just for his photographs.”

“Yes. He’s working on that right now,” you say. “The new collection is absolutely beautiful. He thinks it might be his best work yet, and I completely agree.”

“Aw, look at her proud smile,” Yoosung teases through a mouthful of bread, then pouts. “You guys are so cute. It’s been almost four years and I’m still jealous.”

“Hey, what do you mean, jealous?” Seven says, nudging Yoosung with a foot. “Have you forgotten about that girl from the internet cafe already?”

“What?” You say, swiveling towards Yoosung, who’s turned beet red and stopped mid-chew. “There’s a girl, Yoosung?”

“N-no,” he stutters.

“Yes there is!” Seven sings gleefully. “There’s a girl!”

“Oh, I expect to hear all about this,” you say, but you know by the sound of thunderous footsteps that you’re about to be interrupted.

Bright eyes, far too big for her tiny face, appear around the corner. Things you notice: she’s covered in paint. She’s barefoot. Her hair is a mess. And all three and a half feet of her are now hurtling in your direction.

“SEVENY! YOOSUNG!”

“LUCY!” They shout in perfect unison. Both boys immediately forget about the food in hand and jump to their feet.

She barrels into Seven’s arms first, the redhead sweeping her tiny frame into a tight embrace, then leaps into Yoosung’s lap next, small arms thrown around his neck. Her eyes crinkle from her grin and her mouth splits in a delighted shriek as Yoosung gives her sides an affectionate tickle.

You can’t help but mirror her grin. The girl has always had a knack for making those around her smile a little wider, and the members are no exception. She’s close to them all, due to their frequent visits and unwavering affection towards her, but she once whispered to you that Seven and Yoosung were her favorites. You’re not surprised — there’s playful and hilarious Seven who makes her laugh like no other, and there’s Yoosung who’s so sweet and kind that he’s essentially her big brother.

“Mommy!” Lucy says brightly, looking at you from her seat on Yoosung’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hi, sweetie.” You cradle her hair and press a kiss to her forehead. “Where’s your dad?”

As if on cue, a second set of footsteps come down the stairs. You lift your head and a fond smile tugs at your lips.

Everything about your husband is familiar by now, from his cerulean eyes to sharp jaw, tall frame and lean build, but you’ll never get tired of the way he looks after spending time with Lucy, that aura of tired bliss. Happiness looks good on him, you think to yourself as he walks towards you. So does that shirt.

“Hey,” you murmur as he curls an arm around your waist.

He dips his head and kisses you in lieu of hello, one that’s short but sweet. The taste of coffee and mint lingers behind on your tongue when he pulls away.

“Sorry we’re late, darling,” he says. “Lucy made a bit of a mess.”

“That’s okay. Painting again?”

“Mhm. It’s all she wants to do recently. I think I’ve created a monster.”

Now that he’s closer, you see that the material of his linen shirt has fallen victim to the paint as well, tiny polka dots of color spattered here and there. “She’s good at it, clearly. I like what she’s done to your shirt.”

“Ah, you do?”

“Yes. You look absolutely dashing.”

He leans in to kiss you once more, this time smiling against your mouth, his voice a deep whisper. “Thank you, my lovely wife.”

“EWW!” Seven shouts from the other end of the room. “Cover your eyes, Lucy. Your parents are being gross.”

You begin to pull away, your face flushed. V presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Hi, hyung!” Yoosung says cheerily.

“Yoosung. Saeyoung,” V greets warmly. “You’re both well, I hope? Thanks for coming all this way to visit us.”

“Lucy,” Yoosung corrects, his arms wound tightly around the little girl. You can’t tell who of the two looks happier. “Came here to visit Lucy.”

“Of course,” V laughs. “Then you’re both staying for dinner. For Lucy.”

“Wheeeeee!” Lucy squeals. “Stay for dinner! Stay for dinner!”

“You know, I actually had a bit of work left…” Seven’s voice trails off into a smile. “But alright. Anything for you, little Luc.”

“Great,” you say. “I’ll be off to cook soon, since it’s almost dinnertime. Care to help, Yoosung?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be right there.”

The two of you head off for the kitchen, and you hear Saeyoung’s bright plea as you walk away.

“Oh, right, V! Will you show me your new collection?”

“It’s not ready — ”

“I don’t care. I want to see!”

“I WANT TO SEE!” Lucy echoes emphatically.

You open the fridge to conceal your smile. It’s like you and V have two kids instead of one.

....

“Mommy, I think I ruined daddy’s shirt today.”

You can’t help but laugh at Lucy’s sudden revelation, lifting the blanket for her. “You got a little paint on it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Lucy crawls into bed, lying down and resting her cheek on the pillow. “But I didn’t mean to!”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It was pretty,” Lucy murmurs sadly. “Can we clean it up again?”

“Yes. Here, I’ll tell you what.” You tug the covers up until they cover her shoulders, then smooth them down so you can see her face. “We’ll clean it off together tomorrow.”

She looks up at you. “We will?”

Even four years later, it blows your mind at times how your adopted daughter could easily pass for your biological child, with long locks the same color as yours and V’s eyes, and your heart swells affectionately at the sight of her glimmering blue irises, suddenly bright with anticipation.

“Yes, my dearest.” You nudge the apple of her cheek with a gentle knuckle. “I promise. But stop worrying about daddy’s shirt and first get a good night’s sleep, okay?”

A smile tugs at her lips, and she allows her eyes to fall shut. “Okay.”

“Sweet dreams, little one.” You crouch and lean forward to press a quick kiss to her nose. “I love you so so much.”

“I love you more more more.”

“Nuh-uh. Mommy loves you most.”

“Well, I love you…mostest!” She erupts into a fit of giggles and you can’t help but laugh with her.

“Good night, silly girl.”

You turn off the lights on your way out, looking over your shoulder; in the glow of the nearby night light, Lucy burrows deeper until she’s reduced to a head of hair and a tiny lump beneath the sheets. There’s a small, loving smile on your face when you leave the room and close the door behind you.

Your room is similarly dimly lit. The source of light is coming from the bathroom and accompanied by the gentle sound of swishing water. You crack the door open. V stands shirtless in front of the mirror, bent over and washing something white in the sink.

“Oh, no,” you lament, and he looks your reflection in the mirror as you walk up behind him. “Lucy wanted to wash that out for you.”

His hands freeze in the sink. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You gently wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face against the toned muscle of his back. “She just told me how bad she felt about getting paint on it.”

He chuckles. “Did she mention her own clothes? They were essentially her makeshift paint palette.”

“No. I was thinking about that, too,” you laugh. “It’s a weird, selfless girl we have.”

“Like mother like daughter.”

He turns around to face you. “You promised her she’d wash the shirt?” You nod. “Maybe we should mess it up again then.”

The sudden proximity (and the planes of golden muscle, the dip of his collarbones, the definition of his arms and neck) leaves you breathless. You run your fingers down his chest, your voice softening.

“I could think of a few other things we could mess up, handsome.”

The last thing you see is a boyish grin that only appears when you’ve said something suggestive and then his lips are on yours. He movies with the comfort and confidence of someone who knows your lips all too well; in no time, there’s a tongue brushing against your lower lip and an arm snaking around your waist, pulling you taut against him.

The next thing you know, you’re being lowered onto the mattress. Your head hits the pillow and V is on top of you, arms flexing as he holds himself above you, kissing you languidly, heatedly. You groan into his mouth, threading your fingers through his silky locks and tangling them at the nape of his neck, hooking a leg over his hip, wanting him closer, closer —

Through the open window comes the first chime of midnight.

There’s a church not far away that has a bell tower and sounds off the day’s hours. It’s become a commonality, but there’s something different about it tonight, something that causes you both to hesitate. V breaks the kiss, labored breath tickling your skin as the two of you listen.

Twelve chimes. Midnight.

You turn your head back to V. When you meet his gaze, his eyes are barely visible, but the small amount of moonlight that seeps through the curtains allows you to see how his face has changed entirely. His pupils are still dilated from lust, but his expression has softened. His lips have parted, unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, the beautiful aqua of his irises swimming with something you know well. Love. Adoration.

“Is it…?” He breathes.

You lift a hand to his cheek, a weak smile appearing on your lips.

“Happy anniversary, Jihyun,” you whisper.

Though he’s been living contentedly for a long time now, he’s always been quite serious. You know this is due to the ghost of his past that trails him wherever he goes; he still dreams of his mother, and often reminisces on the deep depression he fell into after Rika’s alleged suicide. The memories have undoubtedly taken their toll on him, even after all this time.

But there are rare moments when he actually looks his age, and this is one of them: when the smile that breaks across his face is, in one word, happy, so happy.

His arms wind around your waist as he leans in, dusting a kiss to your jaw, then your collarbone, where he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Four, is it?” He whispers.

“Four,” you say.

A few moments pass, the only sounds being his gentle breathing and the rhythmic beat of your pulse in your ears. And the shift of fabric as he lowers himself onto the mattress beside you, his arms circling around your waist.

“Four years,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your skin. “You know, I’m glad I have photography in my life again, as well as the friendship and trust of the RFA members, and there’s no doubt those things make me happy, but I have to be honest with myself here…you’re the reason. For all the happiness, all the love. My heart and my soul have been so at peace for so long because I’ve had you by my side.

“You and Lucy have made me the luckiest man in the world.” His voice drops, his words so quiet you only just make them out. “Thank you for coming into my life four years ago, my angel. I love you endlessly.”

You graze a finger beneath his chin, tilting his head up so you can kiss him. This time is sweet, deep, and grateful, if the grin etched on your lips is any indication.

“And I,” you say, pulling back to wrap your hands around the nape of his neck, to rest your forehead against his, “love you too, Jihyun. To the ends of the solar system and back.”

He gazes into your eyes a few moments more, and then the devilish smile is back and he’s leaning in to press a trail of kisses down your neck. You arch into him, barely hearing him over the sound of your own moan.

“Fuck it,” are his words. “Let’s make Lucy a baby sibling.”

#jihyun kim x reader #v x reader #mystic messenger #jihyun x reader #jihyun x mc #mysme #v x mc #mysme fanfic #mystic messenger oneshots #mystic messenger imagines #mine

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beyondtheciouds · 3 years

Text

.28.

Part 1.

Cordelia groaned for the tenth time, her slim, manicured hands flying through the pastel silks and earthy linens in the massive oak trunk at the foot of Lucie's bed. She groaned again and stretched her arms. Her dark eyes swept up through her lashes and glanced at the clock above Lucie's headboard.

Quarter of seven and the script had been flipped inside out. Cordelia's fiery temper was sparking at a dangerous speed. She didn't exactly have time for this type of time consuming ordeal.

Lucie fully expected James and Cordelia to be on the train tonight. Cordelia had yet to tell her fiancé the plans. Or pack.

Her fiancé. James was her fiancé. Cordelia stiffled a nervous laugh with the bite of her teeth on her lip feeling like she owed him way more than the Let's go see Lucie excuse. Months had slipped by with James claimed as hers and yet she was struggling; the future in and out of focus. It felt like her life was no longer her own. These desperate tightly wrapped threads; pieces of precious time stitched together with white lies and blunt deceit. Cordelia's grave was a shallow hole in the ground; her wedding the weight she could not wait to be lifted.

Linette Herondale's marquis diamond sparkled on her ring finger in the waning light filtering in through Lucie's periwinkle curtains. The ring twinkled as if reminding Cordelia she had an obligation to James.

A wink of good luck. A message from beyond.

Her fiancé. Still, the word sounded strange in her head and on her lips. Cordelia had never conceded to call him by that title when she introduced him.

He was James.

He'd always be just James to her.

She couldn't tell him the truth.

She could.

She wouldn't give away Lucie's secrets.

She would.

She shouldn't break her promises to Lucie.

She should.

How many times had she dug through the contents of the trunk in the last half hour? How many times had she read the context of words in Lucie's letter, memorizing it word by word so she remembered the items Luce requested?

Cordelia grimaced, reciting the list in her head, her lips moving breaths of air. Although the door was fully opened, she felt secure with Lucie's secrets. And besides, no one else was here besides her brother.

Arum Lilies. Bones of a sparrow. Spindles of a spider. Eye of newt. ...and lastly the graveyard dirt of a traitor. All wrapped up in a silken green scarf.

The scarf, Cordelia knew had special meaning to Lucie although she would never elaborate. Even so, Cordelia knew the expensive accessory had been Matthew's favorite and he did not give away such pieces easily or freely.

Matthew, Cordelia thought throwing her hands in the air, thinking of the blonde boy she had become a little too friendly with. The act defiantly pushed carefully brushed mahogany tresses over her shoulder. What would he think of this nonsense? What would he think?

Cordelia thought she knew what he'd think as well as she knew the back of her hand. It was the same thing that she was thinking. Lucie had gone mad.

To Cordelia all these creepy things seriously sounded like the ingredients of some horrible spell.

Cordelia had no idea how right she was.

For all her sense, she couldn't imagine why Grace would want them or what her best friend was doing with the dark items.

Lucie had assured Cordelia though that bringing these items were all necessary for her plan to save Tessa.

So Cordelia believed Lucie.

Cordelia set out on a dark scavenger hunt the moment she was free and able. She followed the instructions and she had ended up empty handed thus far.

Cordelia sighed angrily, sitting back on her knees. The royal blue skirt of her dress curled around and under her legs. Breathless, the intricate white lace trim caressed her bare feet and she subdued the giggle burning like liquor in her belly.

Feeling frustrated, Cordelia says, "I have looked eighteen times and there is no green scarf in this forsaken trunk!" Her voice is an octave or two too high. She says this to Alastair, who lies sprawled like an alley cat on the chaise lounge. He's been lazily pretending to be reading yesterday's newspaper for the last hour.

Alastair looked up from the article on motor cars and raised an eyebrow. Cordelia saw that his dark eyes were exceptionally curious as he peeked over the edge of the London Times. His lips are stretched in a thin, disappointed line. "You should leave well enough alone. Go see Lucie and when she asks, tell her you couldn't find the scarf."

Cordelia grimaces and puts her hands on her hips. "She will know I didn't look hard enough. It is not easy to lie to her."

Alastair was genuinely concerned, but his curiosity outweighed any further questions brewing. He was indeed very vexed, but mostly interested as to what his sister's soon to be parabatai was doing with very dangerous and dark items.

Items he knew were strictly forbidden by the Clave. He wasn't pleased Lucie was dragging his sister into whatever scheme she had gotten herself jammed in.

He kept quiet as he scowled.

Cordelia chewed on her lip. Could she tell Alastair? Could she trust her brother as much as Lucie trusted James?

Cordelia was raised to answer that question with an immediate yes, but she felt this was Lucie's secret, not hers.

So, she said nothing and shrugged her shoulders.

Alastair rolled his eyes in annoyance but didn't press any further. He resumed reading, but his lips were drawn in a tight line. "Secrets are really becoming a trend around here, aren't they, Cordelia?"

Cordelia gulped quietly. Alastair was tip-toeing around what he already knew.

Thomas cleared his throat loudly, interupting their conversation. He had startled both Cordelia and Alastair to a jolt. The Carstairs siblings matching dark gazes both slid to the doorway.

Alastair held his breath, keeping his disinterested facade. The truth was, Thomas Lightwood was growing on him.

Cordelia blinked, smiling. She kept thinking she saw her brother sit up a little straighter at Thomas's arrival.

Alastair exhaled as a blush flushed out the annoyance in his stern face. "Hello Thomas."

"Oh," Cordelia gasped, her own face pinkening to a spring rose. "Tom! Hello!"

Thomas was never one for greetings so he stared at them blankly before his brain kicked in and his mouth started moving. "Have you looked under the loose board on the bottom? Sometimes Lucie hides stuff in there." Thomas had sounded like he'd searched Lucie's room before and that made Cordelia weary.

Usually, he gave off the impossible impression that he was happy. Today however, all Thomas did was eye Cordelia skeptically as if something about her bothered him.

The idea that he would be suspicious of Cordelia needed additional attention, but now was not the time. Cordelia reached into the linens again and pulled back a loose board on the bottom. As she yanked up, she'd snagged the ring on something sharp and small.

Thomas's large hand gestured to Cordelia's letter lying discarded on the floor. "I'm surprised she didn't mention it in the letters."

"How do you know Lucie sent that to Cordelia?" Alastair asked, setting the newspaper down beside him. He tried not smile at Thomas. He cleared his throat and successfully retained his distant expression.

Thomas was the opposite. He tried to smile all friendly at Alastair. This was the game they had to play. "Oh, let's just say I have a knack for figuring out all her spots."

Thomas was standing in the open doorway of Lucie's bedroom. To Cordelia he appeared almost comfortable, like he'd been in that position a thousand times before. He leaned his large frame against the doorway. His hazel eyes were keen as he watched Alastair watching him.

Thomas wore dark brown pants held up by black suspenders that raced up his back. His white, linen shirt had a few wet spots, like he'd been doing physical labor; sweating. The shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. Thomas was uncharacteristically careless and open, exposing tan muscles that never faded.

Cordelia shivered, pulling her hand free. Warm liquid gushed from the scrape across the palm of her hand. Her dark eyes swept up watching her brother's eyebrows knit.

The sun was setting. It was getting late.

This was the first time he'd looked; really looked at Thomas. Alastair's world had tilted; roating sideways. He was frozen, stricken and startled.

Speechless, Alastair could only awkwardly clear his throat as his mind ran with scenarios. He couldn't stop imaging Thomas without the shirt, so his darkening eyes roamed down. His heart thumped in his chest; beating like a drum before he shamed his gaze to the floor. Not in front of Cordelia. Never again in front of her.

Alastair coughed, glancing out the window. He needed a distraction that didn't come in the form of a tall, tan, muscled guy.

Cordelia raised her eyes at her brother as he licked his lips, staring out into the growing darkness. Her own curiosity had peeked as she looked between the two boys. She had known of Alastair and Charles, but Thomas? She couldn't be sure his breeze blew in that direction. Time would tell.

Cordelia, frustrated at the waste of time, stood up. She adjusted her skirt and frowned, looking squarely at Thomas. It was on instinct she felt to scrutinize him as she grabbed a sheet from the pile in the trunk and wrapped it around her bleeding hand. "Where else?"

Alastair looked horrified as he turned away from the window. "Cordelia. Your hand. Do you need a izrate?"

Cordelia groaned, tightening the makeshift bandage as her brother pulled his stele from the pocket of his maroon waistcoat. "I'll be fine for now."

Thomas let out a quick, nervous chuckle, refocusing his hazel eyes on Cordelia. "Lucie has lots of hidden treasures in her room."

#cassandra clare #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #cordelia carstairs #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood

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thomaslightwood · 4 years

Text

A Kind of Magic

Chapter two: Don't lose your head

Don’t lose your head.

No, don’t lose your head.

Hear what I say:

Don’t lose your way.

Don’t lose your heart.

No, don’t lose your heart.

(recommend, but not necessary to read/hear the song)

• •

As sad as it sounds Alastair often thought that lies were everywhere.

There was no escape from them. His mother lies. Layla. His father. Charles. His so-called friends. The Clave. Alastair probably was the biggest liar of them all.

His relationships were all about lies. He lied his mother and sister. He and his mother lied to Cordelia. Even his affair with Charles revolved around lies and secrets.

Alastair looked at his lover who dressed. Charles said that he can't stay for the night and now he was leaving, to return to his full of politics world. That was all he thought about actually - his career.

Alastair often wondered what happened with them. At first it was new. Exciting. Alive. Alastair believed with all his heart that he was in love. Then it was just... nice. Stolen nights here and there, even a few days together. Several hours a day maybe.

Now he didn't know what it was. But he felt that Charles was far from him. It wasn't that something definite has changed. But rather Alastair began to notice things that firstly just bothered him a little but which now were huge issues for him.

Like how Charles almost never tells him where he goes. Or the way he often made decisions for both of them without asking. How he always expected Alastair to be there for him but rarely was there for Alastair. His almost two-year engagement with Ariadne. Alastair was so sick of all this.

And he couldn't help but question himself: if their love was like this from the very beginning, was it actually love in the first place? Wasn't love supposed to send you high? To be more selfless? To be more... truthful? Because this love had started to feel like another lie in Alastair's life.

“Will you be at the ball tomorrow?” asked Alastair while Charles was straightening his shirt collar.

“Maybe,” said his lover. “But I'm not sure. There is unusual demon activity in South London that is bothering the Clave and there will be a meeting about it. I want to show my skills there.”

Alastair felt such a strong annoyance that he surprised himself. Charles always talked about this. To show everyone his best qualities. How good he was. How he could handle every situation.

You will go there to show your abilities again, Alastair thought. But you won't be beside me in the first event I am, in this new town where neither me nor my family don't know almost anybody. You won't be there when I need you. Again.

Alastair guessed there was something in his gaze because Charles stoped dressing for a moment and looked at him.

“What's wrong with you?” He rised an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Alastair said sharply. “I'm just so happy for you.” Vexation dripped from his mouth.

Charles looked at him irritatinly.

“By the angel, Alastair,” he said. “You are so moody lately. Calm down. Everything I do is so you and I can be together.”

Alastair closed his eyes for a moment.

Lies. Sweet lies that Charles knew Alastair wanted to hear. Or maybe Charles also believed it? Who knows. But this was a broken promise even before the words to came out of his mouth.

Don't lose your head, he told himself.

“Good,” Alastair said coldly. “You can leave now.”

Charles was already with his coat put on. He glared at him.

“Are you irritated? Really?” he snorted. “I just can't attend one event. It's not a big deal.”

“Didn't you say that you can't stay tonight?” Alastair looked right into his eyes. “Then go.”

For one long moment everything was quiet. They looked at each other intensely. Alastair held his breath, looking at his lover. Charles was fully dressed, ready to leave but was frozen in place. Alastair held the sheets below him so hard that his hands ached.

He wanted Charles to stay so badly.

“Just this one time,” Charles whispered.

Lies, lies, lies.

He turned and after a few seconds the door was quietly closed after him.

Alastair closed his eyes to stop the tears.

• •

The next morning at breakfast, Cordelia looked at him while drinking her tea. Alastair knew she wanted to know what was bothering him but he looked away. Layla was already too concerned about their father. Alastair wanted to protect her by it but his efforts were pointless. But that didn't mean he had to add his problems to her's.

“Alastair joon,” Sona stopped him after breakfast. “Are you alright?”

Alastair's heart ached.

“There are nothing to worry, Mâmân,” Alastair assured her. “Just couldn't sleep well.”

His mother gave him worried look.

“The ball is after a few hours, darling. Are you sure you're fine?”

“Yes,” he said immediately. He didn't want to worry his mother. She was exhausted enough by all this drama with Father. They all were. “I'm fine.”

After this she and Layla went to choose a dress for his sister. Alastair went straight to his room. He sat in front of his desk and put few papers.

He had thought about this all night after Charles left. It hurt. Really hurt. But Alastair decided it the moment Charles turned his back to him that night. He wasn't sure what to say in the letter. He had a feeling that if he starts to write what bothered him about Charles' actions he wouldn't stop. And probably would find new ones. So he tried to keep it simple. It took him three or four drafts but finally the letter was good enough. What was important was there, with no fancy words and fake promises.

Alastair wrote many things in the letter but most important was maybe that he said to Charles this is over. Their romantic relationship was over. He wasn't sure he wanted to had any sort relationships with him anymore but this was enough for now.

Alastair was hurt but he also felt relieved. He was free of one of his lies.

He sealed the letter and call one servant to send it to Charles' house. He looked at the clock on the wall. The ball was soon.

• •

Sona, Layla and him were in the carriage, almost at the Institute.

“London is so beautiful. I can't decide what we should see first. I'm sure the Herondales can recommend what to see,” Cordelia said, smiling at the buildings they were passing. “I can't wait to see Lucie,” added a little bit quieter but even more excited.

“You said this ten minutes ago,” Alastair rolled his eyes. “And you met her yesterday.”

“Yes, but it was for a while because it was already night when we arrived in London,” she frowned at him.

Alastair opened his mouth to answer but didn't have the chance.

“Children,” Sona said impatiently. “Stop it already. We are here.”

When the Carstairs entered the ballroom, Alastair felt already bored. He didn't like this sort of events. Too much people talking about too much pointless things.

He didn't even made an effort to look for Charles. He knew he wasn't here.

Tessa Herondale introduced them from group to group. He remembered only half of them. At the end they stopped. His mother started a conversation with Gabriel and Cecily Lightwood. Cordelia chatted with the girl beside them. Alastair wasn't paying much attention though. He didn't want to be here but it was important.

“Who’s the boy dancing with Lucie?” Cordelia asked.

“Ah, this is my brother.”

Even before she could finnish Alastair turned and searched the dance floor. This was Barbara Lightwood, by the angel, how could not think that her brother would be here. There were many people he didn't know, dancing and laughing, some of them in groups, talking. But there weren't many people over 1.90 meters high. And he found him. Sandy hair, hazel eyes and broad shoulders.

Thomas Lightwood.

Alastair felt like someone kicked him in the stomach. Paris immediately appeared in his head. These short beautiful days with him. The endless conversations about music, books and history, the walks. Thomas' hand. He long wondered if he made that tattoo after all.

When the days ended he carefully tried to forget them. They were pure memories that should be locked and protected at all cost.

At that time Thomas Lightwood was a guilty pleasure. Now he was even more.

At this moment the dance ended and Lucie spotted her future parabatai. She said something to Thomas who fast looked at their way. Their eyes met.

Lucie hurried to his sister and hugged her. Alastair just couldn't look away from the other boy. Thomas slowly approached them, without breaking the eye contact.

When he finally stood in front him, he smiled shyly. Alastair didn't realize how much he missed his smile.

“It's good to see you, Carstairs,” he said.

For his surprise, Alastair returned the smile.

“Good to see you too, Lightwood. You aren't taller from the last time we saw each other, for everyone's relief.”

“I suppose,” Thomas said, his eyes focused on Alastair. “So how are you? I heard that you were in Devon before coming in London?”

“That's right,” Alastair said. Lucie took Layla by her hand and they both went to talk with some girls. The Lightwoods and Sona was a little far away. Alastair and Thomas weren't alone but the atmosphere between them was definitely more private. “In Cirenworth, a Carstairs house there. It's close to one town, Chagford. Small but nice. I should take you to see it some day.”

Thomas smiled at him so brightly. Alastair wanted to know what he said to make him smile like that. He would say it all the time.

They continued to talk. Alastair probably was supposed to dance with some ladies. Perhaps Thomas too. But neither of them did it. It was far from their minds. Alastair felt like he was in Paris with Thomas again. Just they, talks about art and no one in the world.

Don't lose your head, Alastair thought. Don't lose your heart. But he was afraid it was probably too late.

• •

A/N: From here the fic slightly will follow ChoG plot. And a little mention: I'm not sure if the Carstairs were really in Devon before arriving in London but why not 🤷

People who wanted to be tagged: @christophers-lightwood @panicatwallmaria @thomaslightwoodx @thomastair-paris @lavanyalol @lucexherondale @tom-carstairs @a-depressed-nephilim @vintage-morning-wine @ab-cedario @christopherlightwood @crying-is-your-latest-fashion @a-very-gay-spider

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penwieldingdreamer · 4 years

Text

The Devil’s Daughter

Thank you so much, guys, for the amazing feedback, I never would have guessed that this story was doing so well. The movie and characters are so great to work into the idea I head. I hope you will like the next part to. Let me know what you think. If you want to be on the taglist let me know, too. Happy reading and have fun.

and thank you again to Lucy @fanficsrusz for the proof reading

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: smut, slight cursing, angst

Words: 1740

Part 4

“You have” he breathed harshly. “Witchcraft in your lips, my lady.” William moaned, letting his fingers run through your hair. Your tongue was moving along his cock, feeling the hard ridges of his bulging organ. He threw his head back against the pillow, enjoying the pleasure you were giving him, his hazel eyes closed tightly. It had been so long since last he felt the mouth of a woman on his body, thank god his wife didn’t know that his business trips consisted of nightly visits with a lady. “I’ll make my…mhmm… heaven in a lady’s lap.” he quoted his own play Henry VI holding tightly to your tresses.

All too soon the coil in his belly exploded and he felt his seed shoot into your mouth, your tongue lapping up everything you could as you still slowly bobbed your head. And yet looking down at you weren’t Williams familiar eyes. No, those were a deep brown, the throes of satisfaction still evident in them.

Johnathan gasped loudly, not from bliss but from the shock at seeing you, in front of him. The sight you offered, bared for all to see got him aroused again, though he didn’t know if it was just his imagination or if it was real. He remembered taking Midnite’s advice and went to sleep, trying to get as much downtime as possible, so what was he doing here with you quoting William Shakespeare to the daughter of the devil.

Swallowing the last bit of his cum, you wiped along your lower lip catching the evidence of his pleasure. Crawling over his body you lowered yourself on his lap, feeling his length harden again. Your hips moved involuntarily, circling the head of his cock before it slipped into your warm channel. The veins stroking your moist heat as you moved your body up and down, using your hands on his shoulders for leverage.

Constantine swallowed another cry of pleasure as you writhed above him, putting his hands on your hips to help you move for him. Leaning down you laid your lips over his, snaking your tongue in his mouths in a love filled kiss when suddenly the door to his chambers were thrown open.

Wide eyed you both turned to the entrance. Looking over your shoulder you saw Balthazar standing next to a woman holding onto a baby. A girl by the looks of it.

“Well, well Y/N, I didn’t know you liked your lovers to be married and already with child.” he smirked, leaning against the wall opposite the bed.He had hated the man with a passion and now it was time for a payback

Shocked you looked down at your lover, seeing the disbelief in his eyes.

“William?” the woman asked avoiding looking at you both as she shielded the child from the sight of your bare bodies.

“You never told me, Will.” you whispered so softly that he had to strain and John knew that it was going to be ugly, although he wasn’t sure why you called him Will. He recognized Balthazar, but that scum bag was dead, blown up when he tried to prevent Mammon from entering the world of the living.

Hastily you got up, wrapping the sheet around you hoping that at least one tiny fragment of dignity was left to you. “The course of true love never did run smooth.” you lamented, tears glistening in your eyes as your lover turned to you. “I hope you will rot in hell, William Shakespeare.”

“Y/N.” he called, getting out of the bed, not caring for his body bared to his wife and the demon of hell. You swiftly passed by the blonde woman, apologizing quietly. “Y/N, wait!” John cried again, his hand outstretched hoping to reach you, but all he heard was the anguished howl of your broken heart.

Constantine woke with a loud scream, sitting up in his bed. Sweat beads running from his forehead down to his neck, making him shiver in the cool air of his apartment. He wasn’t sure what had pulled him out of this god forsaken dream but he had a feeling that it was something important.

Suddenly his phone was ringing, a very common occurrence with being an occult detective and exorcist but still he’d like his freedom, just this once. John got up, not used to the shrill sound after such a vivid dream, still feeling the effects of your body on top of his own. Making his way to the kitchen table he reached out for the phone, asking himself when he had just saved the world from Mammon, why he was called upon again?

“This better be important.” he growled into the receiver listening to the harsh breathing on the other end of the line

“John?” He knew that voice.

Staring at the display, disbelief crossed his features as he heard the voice of his dead apprentice, well, friend to be honest. It couldn’t be, he was there when the young man had died from Gabriel’s assault.

“John?” Chas repeated again. “A-Are you there. It’s kind of p-pouring outside and I’m really c-cold right now.”

Clearing his throat, the warlock put the phone back to his ear, finally giving the young man an answer. “Chas? W-What, how?” Swallowing the lump that had build in his throat he tried to form sentences that made sense and not just stutter on the other end. “Where are you?”

“Um, to be honest, I’m not really sure.” he answered and Constantine could already picture him scratching his head. “I remember the hospital. Then there was fire and darkness. I saw a woman there.” he stopped taking a deep breath. “She pushed me down, a-and I was falling but then I woke up in this alley.”

Not sure how to reply, John rubbed his temples, the urge for getting that cigarette he desperately longed for, rising by the second. “Okay, I’ll get you, Chas. But you gotta explain what’s been going on.”

“Uh, sure, John, whatever you want.” With that Constantine ended the call and went to the kitchen table in the middle of his grand apartment. His keys, talisman and gum laid there. Since he had stopped smoking, the exorcist was going through packages of chewing gum like he went through his cigarettes, only positive thing was he wouldn’t die of lung cancer anymore.

»¤«

Another anguished cry filled the back alley though none of the humans walking past the entrance cared enough to investigate. Whoever it was was probably going to die soon anyway, so why should they bother with anybody but themselves.

Your arms wrapped around your naked body, you rocked back and forth. Goosebumps had spread all over, the skin even more pebbled than any normal human’s flesh. The tears were falling rapidly, mingling with the pouring rain as you remembered the day your heart had been shattered into millions of pieces, not even the last part of your mother’s light had survived. Now with being human theses emotions were coming back to haunt you, the wounds on your back still oozing blood that the water falling from the sky washed away.

“Why does it hurt so much!” you cried out, burying your face in your hands. The action only slightly stifled the pained moans escaping your mouth. “Why am I deserving of this!” your voice had grown hoarse from your screams, now only a whisper on your lips. “I only ever served my father.”

Shivering from the cold surrounding you, you hoped there would be a fast way to die, no matter where you ended up because nothing compared to the pain you were feeling now. Mammon could torture you in all his sadistic ways but it would be a relief for your soul to leave this casket made of flesh and bone.

Laying on your back, your arms spread like your former wings, your eyes turned to the weeping heaven, waiting for your final breath to leave your lungs you heard voices coming from the entrance of the alley. Somehow someone still had a heart and had heard your cries.

But shouldn’t this be the end?

Blinking away the droplets of water that were stinging your eyes, you could make out the shadow falling over you. Lightning struck and you saw dark eyes watching you with concern. It was a man, definitely, dressed in a black suit and his hair clinging to his forehead from the pouring rain as he knelled next to your body.

“John!” a voice cried behind you, making the man turn away from you.

Was this Constantine? The one you needed to save and try to redeem yourself?

“What is it, Chas?” he nearly growled looking at his apprentice over your head.

The young man pointed down at you, shock and disbelief evident in his gray eyes. “This is her.” he said, kneeling next to you. His cheeks were tinted in a pink hue, either from the cold or your bare body, you didn’t know. “It’s the woman I told you about.”

Rolling his eyes, the exorcist shed his suit jacket. With sure movements he pulled it of and laid it over your body, hoping to give you back some semblance of warmth and shielding you from the rain. “I know who she is, Chas.” he muttered agitation coloring each word he spoke. John put his arms under your shoulders, pulling you up in his arms and leaning you against his own body. “She is the daughter of Satan, although I’m not sure why she is here.”

“Well her wings are missing.” the apprentice said as he saw the weeping holes on your back. “I don’t think she would shed them like other animals shed their skin.”

Turning his eyes back to you, you could see a small sliver of kindness reflect in them before it was gone. Could you be save with him? The warlock and exorcist John Constantine?

“We need to get her out of the rain or she’ll die just like us. She is human now.” he stood up with ease, your body still supported in his arms as he made his way out of the alley. His only hope was that you would survive the night and not succumb to this kind of death.

He wanted answers and he wanted them coming from your lips.

Part 5

Taglist

@fanficsrusz @ladyreapermc @meetmeinthematinee @toomanystoriessolittletime @a-really-bi-girl @pinkzsugar @ficsnroses @lunaeminxxx

#john constantine x reader #john constantine imagine #john constantine fanfiction #john constantine #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfic #kenau reeves #constantine

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moeruhoshi · 5 years

Text

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed

I wrote this for @petri808 for the NaLu fanfiction gift exchange! @hazel-got-fanfiction

Sorry this took me so long! I kept falling asleep while I was writing it lmao

~000~

Natsu smacked his lips and stretched his arms over his head, a low growl in his throat as he did so. His jaw lowered itself as he let out a loud yawn, his small body lifting as he sat up. Igneel stood at the edge of his son’s bed as he watched the fledgling roll out of bed, raising a brow as he walked right past him.

“Natsu? No good morning hug?” The Dragneel father was surprised that the pink-haired boy didn’t immediately rocket himself from his sheets to glomp him with an insanely tight hug; which is why Grandine refused to wake him up.

The young dragon didn’t bother answering his father as he waddled himself over to the bathroom to do his morning routine.

“Need any help with that?” He stifled a snicker as Natsu frustratedly pulled a t-shirt over his head and rolled around to tug on his pants.

Igneel watched as Natsu struggled to haul himself from stepstool to stepstool, almost missing the bowl as he fell half-asleep in front of the toilet and haphazardly brushing his teeth with toothpaste foam dripping from his bottom lip. From there, he pushed past his father again and grumpily threw off his pajamas and began rifling through his dresser for an outfit.

“Leave me alone,” Natsu glared at his dad while he pulled on his socks on. “Igneel.”

The older dragon was stunned, though not very surprised. The six-year-old only called his father by his first name whenever he was upset...but was there anything for him to be upset about?

He followed the small stomps Natsu produced as he went down the stairs, Gradine sliding Wendy into her high chair as they approached the dining room table.

“Good...morning, Natsu,” The sky dragon frowned as Natsu pushed her face aside as she bent down to give him a kiss, and continued forward until he was seated for breakfast.

“I think someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Igneel shrugged to his confused wife.

“I see,” She hummed before walking into the kitchen and returning with two plates. “I at least hope you have an appetite, little boy. I made waffles and I know how much you like them with chili mangos,”

They sighed as the young dragon at least began eating, but the crease between his brows failed to unfold. Not even the sight of Wendy awkwardly shoving spoonfuls of mashed blueberries in her mouth seemed to be able to put him in a better mood.

“Is there something wrong, Natsu? Did you have a bad dream last night?” Grandine asked as she watched him angrily chew on a mango chunk.

“You leave me alone too, Grandine. I’m not a baby,” Natsu spat, his mother taken aback by his harsh tone of voice.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, Natsu. Either you use your words or I’ll have to send you to your room,” Igneel sighed as the fledgling glared endlessly at him. He grumbled as he stabbed his fisted fork into a slice of his waffle, mildly nibbling at it before he sighed and stood up on his chair.

“I’m upset today,” He said a matter of factly with his hands planted on his hips.

“We can see that, Natsu.” The red-haired man rolled his eyes. “But we don’t understand why, so you have to tell us more if you want us to help you,”

The little dragon huffed and sat down again, taking a quick swig from the sippy cup of chocolate milk that sat beside his plate.

“I want to see Lucy,” He said as he crossed his arms, a large heft of the weight on his shoulders seeming to disappear.

“...who’s Lucy?” Igneel shook his head at Grandine’s question; he really had absolutely no idea who this supposed Lucy was.

“She’s Lucy,” Was all that Natsu responded with as he continued to eat, unbothered by the confused and exasperated looks his parents threw at him.

“Is she imaginary? Is that why you can’t see her?” Igneel asked and Natsu shook his head.

“I played at the park with her all day yesterday and I want to see her again,”

“Oh! Well then, I suppose we can go to the park again today if you want to see her that badly,” Grandine smiled knowingly as Natsu instantly perked up and continued to finish his breakfast quickly.

“Oh...oh goodness, we look away from you for two minutes and you make such a mess,” Igneel groaned as he looked upon his daughter, her blueberry mix spilled all over her tray, the fruit on her hands and cheeks as well, her burbled laughter producing as she continued to slap the purée.

It wasn’t long before the Dragneel family had packed a lunch and made their way to the park. Grandine giggled as Natsu immediately took off for the playground a short distance away from them, planting himself on a swing as he waited and turned his head and looked around for the mystery girl.

“You know, she might not come to the park today,” Igneel said as he unfurled a blanket and laid it down on the grass.

“Oh, crap,” Grandine clicked her tongue as she pulled Wendy out of her stroller seat. “Well...it’s just puppy love, right? I think he’ll feel better tomorrow even if he doesn’t see her today,”

And she didn’t show up, unfortunately. Natsu would have stayed glued to the seat of the swingset until midnight if Igneel hadn’t pulled his fire-spewing ass off of it.

The next morning wasn’t better, strangely enough. If not for the fireproofing Grandine’s mother cast on their house and belongings, Natsu would have surely burned everything to ash. He was unbelievably restless and refused to stay in the house, Igneel having to take him to the park to wait every afternoon for the girl he apparently had made friends with.

“You’re the fire dragon, he’s your problem,” Grandine said as she glared and shook her head, holding Wendy close to her chest as she looked upon the burning boy who sat in front of the T.V.

“B-But...” Igneel’s bottom lip quivered as he looked into Wendy’s innocent eyes retreat up the stairs, her little pudgy hand waving her dad goodbye while looking over her mother’s shoulder.

The two Dragneel parents were truly worried that their son wasn’t somewhat in the right in the head when Igneel went to wake him up on the fifth day Natsu had gone without seeing Lucy.

“Scales? Igneel, Natsu isn’t supposed to grow his scales until he hits puberty, what the hell is going on?!” Grandine’s narrowed eyes and creased brows mirrored Igneel’s own displeasure, the fire dragon holding his head tiredly in his hands as he sat at the table later that night.

“I know that...and all because he can’t see this Lucy girl? I don’t...get...it...”

“Oh hell no,”

As Grandine and Igneel ran up to their son’s bedroom, the obvious stench of his early marking emitted from his flaming form.

“I blame you for this, you were at the park with him that day, why weren’t you watching him?!” Grandine hissed as she smacked her husband’s arm with one of Natsu’s plushies. “And you call yourself a dragon, hmph.”

“Don’t get mad at me, you didn’t notice it either!” He whisper-shouted back. “And...I was reading that day! I had my nose on him, so I didn’t think to worry about it!”

As the sixth day rolled around, Igneel followed slowly behind the child he might have been terrified of as they made their way to the park again.

Natsu went to sit on his usual swing set, with his flames thankfully subdued. The Dragneel father sat under a nearby tree as he sighed and waited again for a girl he was beginning to believe never existed.

As the sun began to set and the moon lit up in the sky and he began to rightfully drift off, a sudden sparkle was caught in the corner of his eye.

Igneel blinked blearily as he watched the glitter that fell from the sky and began to form the outline of...a person? No, two people...Or was that a lion?

“Lucy! Lucy! It’s really you!” It was the first time in almost week that Natsu had spread a grin, the fledgling rocketing off the swing to gather the girl in a monstrous grip.

#nalu #nalu fanfic #nalu fanfiction #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu and lucy #lucy and natsu #natsu x lucy #lucy x natsu #nalu fluff

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poeticandvaguelysweet · 5 years

Text

it comes and goes in waves (and carries us away) –– #1 Intuition

please find me starting a drabble/prompt series for Suits because that’s really what I need to be doing.

I also accept prompts here on Tumblr!!

INTUITION

Donna tells Harvey she’s pregnant

AO3 - FF.net

They had been married three days when he woke up to an empty bed. It was the sunlight that woke him, breaking through a gap in the curtains to streak across his face. He could faintly feel the warmth of her tucked into his right side and her hand light on his chest. Blinking against the blinding light Harvey stretched, his arms reaching across the space Donna had vacated sometime while he was sleeping. He couldn’t tell if the sheets were still warm from her body or if it was the warmth from his, seeking her out. Harvey reluctantly pulled himself from bed, curious and concerned about the complete silence of the apartment and the whereabouts of his wife.

Donna hadn’t been well in the last few days; something about the whirlwind they had sent themselves through had caught her immune system off guard and she was suffering for it. He had found her too many times with her arm bracketed across her waits and her body kneeling in front of the porcelain gods. She had complained of dizziness, sluggishness and a faint appetite thanks to the upheaval of her stomach’s contents every few hours. She was nauseous at every second, a win Donna had claimed when she had managed to keep the vomit at bay. He hated to think she was hurting and had removed herself to save him from being woken by her. He was happy to hold her hair and rub her back as this bug tore itself through her. Isn’t that what husbands were for?

Harvey moved quietly; feet silent against the flooring as he toss a cursory check to the bathroom first, before roaming through the rest of the apartment. He didn’t have to travel far, finding Donna tucked into a corner of his leather couch, her feet curled up underneath her while her teeth chewed softly on her bottom lip.

‘Hey.’ Harvey breathed both a greeting and relief as he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. ‘You feeling alright?’ His hand fell to her shoulder where it gave her a supportive squeeze.

Donna shook her head, tilting her gaze up to meet his in the tangerine light stretching amongst the high rises. ‘If I sit really still, I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up.’ Harvey couldn’t think of the last time he saw Donna sick. Hell, he was pretty confident she didn’t get sick at all. His heart ached, contracting without a way to help her.

‘You want me to get you a tea or something?’ He was coming up short. What did people do for their loved ones when they were under the weather? And how did he not know the answer to that when it concerned his wife? Donna gave him a weak nod that set his heart to beat with an urgency at the tips of his fingers. He would get it for her as fast as he could.

Maybe they needed to book a doctor’s appointment just to be on the safe side of things. With a prescription and a doctor’s guidance he would feel a little better equipped in handling the illness that was plaguing her and with a certainty that it was a stomach bug Harvey felt he could rest easy knowing she would recover from it soon.

‘Good thing we didn’t book that honeymoon, hey?’ Harvey teased with a warm smile, hand holding out the tea he brewed for her. She took it with a small, grateful smile and a soft thanks, hand wrapping around the mug before she pulled it towards her chest. They could have picked up and gone to Paris, Spain, the Mediterranean for a week or two. They had the time, but with a hurried marriage and an impending move to Seattle they had decided to wait until after they married for a second time to include their families. That way, Donna had argued, they could enjoy it without conversing with Rachel every two days on apartments in the city.

He sat beside her, his knee nudging against hers as he watched Donna take a tentative sip. Satisfied, his hand settled on her thigh, fingers squeezing gently. ‘Harvey, I think I’m pregnant.’ The words tumbled out of her as she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, nervous and scared. The air sat still between them, like neither was breathing and she felt his fingers flex against the fabric of her pyjama pants.

‘Are you sure?’ Was all he managed to let out, the words soft and barely spoken.

She knew everything, she was Donna after all. ‘Let’s call it intuition.’ The dates lined up, the nausea, the dizziness, the fact that her usually regular period was late and her breasts were starting to get a little tender. ‘Oh,’ she breathed, ‘and there’s this’. Shifting, she took one hand off of her mug to slide into the pocket of her dressing gown. It took a second for Donna to fish out the positive pregnancy test from where she had tucked it, hands shaking and head trying to figure it all out. Her hands were still shaking now that the focus was on them and what she was about to reveal, the tea in her mug rippling with the tremors.

Harvey’s mouth opened and closed without a sound, eyes wide and swimming with something Donna almost couldn’t read. He was scared, she knew that much. She felt it to, an anxious energy vibrating under her skin. He said they were forever and Donna knew it had taken him so long to make a move because he needed to be sure on that. But a baby so soon. Were they ready for this?

‘Harvey, say something.’ He took the mug out of her hand, placing it on the coffee table before he turned back to her. His cheeks split into a wide grin, almost cracking his face in half as his eyes shone with the same happiness he exuded on their impromptu wedding day.

‘Yeah?’ His voice cracked, the word barely making it past his dry and astounded throat. ‘You’re pregnant?’ Tears were brimming his brown eyes, mystified. He reached for her, hands sliding around her waist as his lips met hers in a crushing kiss that he hadn’t meant to be so hard. Donna returned the fervour, nipping at his bottom as a reflection of his reaction. Harvey grinned against her lips, full and joyous as a chuckle bubbled out of him. ‘Really?’ He asked, pulling away as his hands skated from her waist to her thighs, fingers gentle as he tugged her legs out from under her body to stretch across his lap.

Donna rolled her eyes with a fond smile biting at the inside of her cheek. ‘Do you want me to go get the other four tests I took?’ Harvey shook his head. He believed her. Donna had never been wrong about anything before. ‘We’re going to have to hold off on getting married for our families.’ The last thing she was going to commit to was planning and taking part in a wedding while her body swelled to accommodate another life. The Vera Wang dress she had her eye on in the last few days, would not be altered to fit a baby bump. She wasn’t wearing Vera while pregnant. They could get married quick, there was no need for the fairy tale, but Donna wanted it. She yearned for the dream of the white dress and the twinkling lights, her father walking her down an extravagant aisle littered with more flowers than she knew what to do with.

Harvey chuckled again, ‘Your mom’s going to kill me’. Donna only smiled. Her parents were already suspicious that something like this was happening when she called to tell them of her sudden and immediate nuptials. It had been the first question out of both of their lips and now it made Donna’s cheeks warm to think that in a way they had known before she did.

‘What’s a few months in comparison to the years we wasted?’ He leant in to kiss her again, his touch softer than the first. He splayed his hand across her stomach, wide palm and thick fingers applying gentle pressure as he tried to wrap his head around what was growing beneath her skin. He stared like he could see right through the layers of her body to peer right at the bundle of cells he had helped to create. ‘You okay with this?’ She lifted a hand to his neck, touch barely there as she scratched at the small hairs on the back of his head, her thumb stroking the soft skin behind his ear.

They hadn’t talked about this. They hadn’t had time. Donna knew where she stood, despite the nerves she swore made her nausea all the worse. Despite knowing Harvey inside and out, this was a question she could never pin an answer to.

‘Yeah.’ He answered, words stuck until he cleared his throat. ‘Yeah, of course. Are you?’ She gave him a little nod. ‘I told you forever, Donna. This is only part of it.’ His thumb stroked over her stomach, eyes flicking from the pattern to meet with her hazel gaze. ‘Hey, we’re going to be starting in Seattle with everything we need.’ In love, married and committed, baby on the way. Forever was in motion. ‘You are marvellous to me.’

‘I love you.’ She whispered quietly, like it was a secret just for them as the sun continued to rise over New York City skyscrapers, littering his apartment with the warm glow of an early morning. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling Harvey closer, his body moving to hover over the top of hers. ‘Can we go see Lucy later today?’

It had only been three days, but it was unquestionably clear how much Donna adored Lucy Litt. She had beamed when they met the baby, practically glowing as she held her while Harvey stood right by her side with his heart in his throat. The vision of her standing there, excitedly holding a newborn had scared him and where he loved seeing her so happy at the new life, he was itching to leave the second they had the chance. Now, he felt the slight tingle of excitement for an opportunity to hold a baby as pending practice. He hoped it would quell the insecurities inside of him, if not, he did enjoy watching Donna hold Lucy.

His heart swelled at the thought of her holding the baby and soon a child of their own, Donna beaming at him in her usual love-struck way that would only made his heart beat faster. When he woke, he didn’t think he would be anxious to meet a life that was still months away. He hadn’t anticipated that bombshell falling from his wife’s lips in the near future or the far, but now he realised that maybe he had been holding his breath for her to suggest it. Suddenly and all at once his thoughts were consumed of a little redheaded firecracker calling him daddy and grinning with her mother’s knowing smile, eyes shining with mischievous hazel. He was going to give her the world when he finally met her and every day from then on out would be about making his daughter and her mother happy.

Harvey hadn’t realised how much of a new start they were going to have in Seattle. It was an opportunity to break away from the fast-paced nature of New York, the hectic calamity of it all would leave them behind where he could take it day by day, helping the little guy with Mike and working on putting his family first. Call it Donna’s intuition rubbing off on him, but he had a feeling things were going to work out fine for them.

#darvey #suits #suits usa #donna paulsen #harvey specter #darvey fic #it comes and goes in waves (and carries us away)

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newgeht · 5 years

Text

The Witching Hour

Geez guys... I got a little obsessed with Netflix original’s Sabrina the Teenage Witch and look what happened vkjsbre

Welp... I have managed to post for erzajane week, even if it’s a day late. The prompt being: Spellbound

Enjoy everyone!

Summary: No one said going to the prestigious witch academy, Fairy Tail, was going to be easy. Good thing for Erza, she never drifted through anything. Including the day she summoned a demon… Pairings: Erzjane, Erza & Lucy, Kagura & Lucy, Erza & Kagura Characters: Erza Scarlet, Kagura Mikazuchi, Lucy Heartfilia, Irene Belserion, Minerva Orlando, Sting Eucliffe, Mirajane Strauss Words: 7,320 Rating: M (for violence) AO3 | FFNet

11:50 p.m.

The veil between the world of spirits and the realm of mortals was the thinnest on the day of Hallows Eve. Even thinner at the witching hour. For months Erza had planned on summoning a spirit for the academy. She would prove that once in for all she was better than Minerva Orlando. That witch was more like a bitch in her eyes, and Erza wasn't going to stand falling into her shadow any longer. Not today and the days following after.

The digital alarm clock on her bedside let her know it was five minutes before the stroke of the new day. She laid her head back on her pillow, still baffled by her idea. She had to do this, otherwise Erza wouldn't gain the recognition she wanted.

Still in dressed in her school uniform, she slipped from the sheets in her bed. Her dorm consisted of two other girls: Lucy Heartfilia and Kagura Milkovich. They were the best roommates she could ever ask for, giving her space and privacy when she asked. And they were never privy to her more personal life, especially Lucy.

The girl lay snoring and sprawled out on the middle mattress, yellow hair standing in tufts on her pillow case. A smile of fondness crept over her mouth as she picked pulled the coarse sheet over her slim frame. She made a note internally to check on Lucy's eating habits tomorrow, the blonde had a habit of passing meals when she was stressed.

Lucy was the top student of the witching academy. Erza was always proud of how the blonde managed to memorize spells and ingredients for summonings, but that was mostly due to her own photographic memory. Though it was hard for her to execute said spells, she wasn't as gifted as the rest of them (magic wise). Even without it, she was sure that the blonde would still be toppling over the rest of the girls.

But her other roommate was a completely different story. Her eyes passed over to Kagura, she looked almost dead. No, a sleeping beauty. Not one single strand of her obsidian hair was misplaced, the sheets tucked around her frame in a precise manner. Her face positively glowing in the moon's light, Erza wouldn't lie to say she hadn't crushed on her friend at some point.

Kagura only had one issue; she simply didn't want to play the devil's hand. Erza wished she had the courage of the girl. Had the gall to practice sword fighting techniques instead of working on her studies.

But as she looked closer, another ghastly shape sat at her bedside table. It was Kagura herself, the girl flipping through the pages of one of their textbooks. She must really be behind if she was using an astral projection to study. Without looking up she monotonously stated, "Go before I get the head mistress."

She could feel the tips of her ears get hot as she finally left the room. It was unnecessary to try to make any conversation, especially at this time. She had so much to do in such a little frame of time.

The head mistress was done checking rounds at this point in time and it was time for Erza to make her move. She didn't bother to wear shoes as she padded through the dormitories hallways. On the tile her heels would click and that would wake up her other classmates.

The only problem was that to get to the classrooms, she would have to sneak through the warlock's dorms. She absolutely dreaded this as she pushed through their double doors. Silently she closed those steely doors behind her tiptoeing down the rest of the hallway. But as she got closer to the next turn, she could hear hushed voices. Erza pushed herself up against the wall, taking in a very large breath.

She could feel her heart speed up, the voices not coming any closer. A very hushed whisper, someone haughtily whispered. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't even be here. You know what my father wants of me."

"I don't care, Minerva. You can decide whether or not you stay, you have a choice. I can't stand..." The rest of his words were incomprehensible, she needed to get closer. It was one she didn't recognize but she knew it was a man's voice. It held a doopy timbre, yet it was laced with compassion. Erza dared to inch closer to the corner, her ears straining to listen to what was happening.

"Hear thy truth and know thy tongue, lift my senses, sacrifice will be given later." As the last word fell from her mouth, Erza's ears picked up on so much more. Even the hard breathing of the couple right around the corner.

Inching closer to the corner Minerva's voice was taut. "Just get out of here Sting. Leave before the Mistress comes and finds you, I'm not going to save your ass-"

A door on the far end of the corridor slammed shut, Minerva's words strangled. "Leave now."

Their feet thundered against the wooden planks, coming right for Erza. She pressed herself up against the wall, closing her eyes shut. In the pocket of her suit coat, she frantically wrapped her fingers around a cool marble. Minerva's foot stepping right around the corner as she crushed it within the palm of her hand.

Her whole body flattened against the wall, Minerva rounding the corner with a great speed. Right behind her the teen she had called Sting. He had very fair locks that were brushed haphazardly to the side, his clothes resembling that of the mortal school down the road. Erza had so many questions but for now she couldn't make a peep, holding her breath as Minerva's hazel orbs stared right at her.

Her hawk eyes never acknowledging Erza's existence, only staring at the wall that lay behind her. She gave herself a pat on the back as the two retreated to the girl's dormitory, her nemesis's hand wrapped around the one of a mortal boy. Minerva never looked back once, dragging that boy to possible safety. He could get killed if he was found here.

But now Erza had a completely different problem -whoever was coming down the walkway. She could still only hear steady breathing, not a single footstep. She finally dared to take a step into the archway of the hallway, coming face to face with a color of hair she knew so well.

Red.

Her mother, otherwise known as the head mistress, stood right before her. Her brown eyes fleeting, a typical cruel grin set upon her face. Those orbs looking every which way, never discovering who was standing before her. Erza was frozen, afraid that the Marble of Baal hadn't worked; the chunks of marble in her pocket sending a chilly fray into her skin, her hair fleshing to stand on end.

She was scared to breath in the face of Irene Belserion, the woman standing tall with her infamous stave. The wood unruly and scathed by the marks of time, sashed down with tattered clothes of the witches and warlocks who had held it before her. Her mother huffed, the butt of her staff colliding with the floor. Sparks erupted from the hit, her lip curling.

"Your little tricks has fooled me, for now, but I will find you. Whether you be the best, banishment will be your fate." Her decree was final -Erza new that. But the eyes she shared with her mother had bored into her own, almost red as Irene stepped by. "Return to your bed and the devil may hold mercy."

Those words ringing in her ears, the spell Erza spake earlier still in effect. She bit her lip to restrain her own words, her nails digging into the skin of her palms. Her mother taking her sweet time as she sauntered down the hall.

Not a single click escaped from her black heels as her mother made her way into the girl's dorms. Erza letting out a small breath as the doors shut behind her. She didn't have anymore items to save her tail now. She had to be extra wary of the time and of her own restraints.

Looking down at her hands, the tips of her fingers began to reappear. The weight of the glass shards in her pocket disappearing as the cloak of invisibility began to recede. Making quick work of this opportunity, Erza made her way down the hallway.

12:15 am

It was odd to hear the soft echos of her classmates as she walked down the hallway of the boy's dorm. Erza was surprised to hear how late the misfits stayed up, not even doing homework from the sounds of rock music. How did they get away from her mother's clutches?

Though the rules had always been more lenient against the warlock population. Their contracts with Zeref had differed much than their own. And she was jealous of it. Her baptism at the age of sixteen had been painful, a deep and discolored line stained on the palm of her hand from the depth of the blade. She had sworn that her mother had been trying to cause more harm than good that fateful night.

She shivered involuntarily as her feet finally padded against the tile of the school's front wing. Only the top floor oddly containing the porcelain white tiles. Mainly because no one would want expensive mahogany being ruined by the pure nature of witches -destruction. The headmistress did not like having to replace her lavish floorboards.

The top floor used for laboratories and training rooms for spells and conjuring. The same exact floor in which Erza Scarlet would execute her summoning.

She looked down at her scarred palm, gritting her teeth. She stayed close to the blank walls as she tottered down the hall, trembling as she took each step. A current of doubt pushing against her as her feet carried her to room 333.

A fear settled within the depths of her stomach, suffocating her as it struggled to burst free from her mouth. She gulped it down, the urge to scream dawning on her. A small line of sweat breaking free from her pores, taking a long and slow trek down the curve of her face. It had lain on the edge of her jawline for but a moment before breaking free, falling to the tiles.

Erza grasped the handle of the door, the gold knob her sanctuary. As soon as the pads of her fingers touched it, the cloak had gone. Erza gasping for the air she so desperately needed.

The presence had lifted but caressed the a stray lock of hair. We will be back for you.

1:00

She had been frantic. In a daze. She had packed ingredients and hid them in cracks and crevices of this old a misused lab but within their hiding spots some had been damaged. Erza had worked to stitch back the broken arm on the small burlap doll. Tearing string from her own skirt to fix the limp arm. It was a waste of time and she could feel the room heat up. Or was it just her?

She huffed as she kneeled on the floor, all the ingredients lain before her. All except for the goat's eye. There was no way she could replace it in a hour's time. Well, never say never. There was a supply closet on the first floor. The biggest pantry of witches goods in the entire coven, but her heart was against leaving the dim room. The beats ricocheting at the thought of stepping from the small safe space.

Though the room was very dingy with its broken desks and glass cabinets missing their panels or cracked with the sheer mischief of time, it had always provided her with an area to breath in. A space in which she could act freely. The place in which she swung her sword, studied from ancient texts, and where she spent her time in procrastination.

She gripped her knees, staring at the ingredients in contemplation. All five elements of the star illuminated by their own special qualities. The edge of her skirt tattered from the small bit of string she managed to pull. The effort had most definitely been put into this small plane of hers. Why not just go get it?

She weighed her choices on a scale. First she put it simply. If she didn't go fetch (simply, remember) the goat's eye, there would be no summoning. If she were to go grab it, then she would have all the tools necessary to summon her little demon. But what were the consequences of each situation? This was the tricky part.

The possibility of being caught would put her career as a witch to an end and her family's name would be shamed for life. The last part sounded good to her but then the Wrath of Irene would ensue. But if she successfully broke into the closet, then she would rise to fame in this academy of magic!

She looked down at her cheap wristwatch. The smallest hand mocking her as it ticked by the twelve.

1:05

This night was going to get her crucified or make her rise like the sun. The thought of not wearing shoes was nice but her feet were freezing. And the cool temperatures of the tile were starting to seep into her bones.

She briskly stepped by the hallway that led back to the dorms. Those slim rectangular windows of the doors gleaming in the moonlight, eyeing her carefully. Erza's jaw was still clenched shut, afraid to utter a single sound -a single exhale. No one would know she was here. Not a single trace of would be left.

Her ears perked up and she stood still in her tracks. A silent whoosh from behind creeped behind her. A eerie creak resounding. Followed by the quick patter of footsteps.

A hushed yet chirped voice peaked, followed by straight silence. "Erza…"

She quickened up her pace, those same footsteps coming right behind her. They were coming. Her breath stalled for a moment, breathless.

"Wait… Scarlet, come back here. It's me."

She stilled, her feet urging her to leave; her only sanity recognizing the loo of a feminine presence. Slowly she turned, meeting the viscous honey-brown eyes of her very own roommate. The stark platinum hair she knew so well somewhat combed through, leaving soft curls around her face. One hand raising to wipe the guise of sleep from her eyes; rose pajamas adorning her figure. Just as her, she bore no shoes on her feet.

"Heartfilia…" Her friend was a relief. Lucy would know exactly how to help her, she always did.

1:20

Erza briefly explained what had happened and her current plan. Lucy had tutted, muttering under her breath as they silently stalked through the school's hallways. The blonde had not been happy with her choices thus far. Most specifically the decision to do this all by herself. As many would say, she was a lone wolf.

Lucy groaned as they walked down the last flight of stairs, looking as a penguin as she wobbled down the grand staircase. The wisps of sleep still about her as her zombified state made her trip down the last step. A small squeak elicited from her lips during her fall. Erza rolled her eyes as she landed flat on her stomach. She was surprised that the thud wasn't loud, the girl but a featherweight.

"Geez, Lucy…" Erza cringed as she emitted a moan. It was apparent stealth was not her strong suit. "You must be quieter, we are already in jeopardy."

With a grudging effort, she pulled Lucy up to her feet. Her tone scolding as she began to escort her down the hallway, tugging her by the elbow. They had absolutely zero time to waste in this matter. The Pantry was going to be a very challenging to find, the door hidden by some relatively high level enchantments (her mother's fortee).

The walls, just as the ones above, looked precisely the same. The difference in that fact that the first floor was the nicest in the education wing. The walls donned with red velvet wallpapers, the darkest barren wood that man could buy -the ultimate eye catcher being the golden fixtures that hung from the ceiling every ten feet or so. But right above all, was the jewel embezzled chandelier that hung right under the staircase. The red rubies glistening within their entrapment in the obsidian frame.

Lucy yanked her arm free, rubbing it with a sore pout on her face. "Yeesh… You don't have to tot me around like a child."

"I sure do when you fumble like one." She snapped back curtly, immediately placing her hand against the soft wall. It would be hard to sense the enchantment as magic flowed ceaselessly throughout the academy; an overflowing chalice that the modern world would never see nor touch.

A mere grumble came from Lucy. The silence overwhelming as their search began. She wasn't left to her devices -far from it, but she couldn't help but feel the darkness of this hallow night pull her under once more. Erza could hardly focus as she drummed her fingers against the wall.

By this point they had excavated the entire left side of the bottom floor, nothing to be found. Not one string of an unfamiliar magik or the possibility of a small rune. Nothing was ever going to be that easy, right?

She breathed steadily, counting as she drew the stale air in. One, two, three… Steadily pushing it out. Her fogged mind lifting its drawn curtain only a bit. Her cogs turned as she reached for this presence. Though in from one moment to the next all thought vanished. The recesses of her mind channeling the darkness that had come for her earlier. Those spirits taunting her and soon enough the world wasn't the same anymore.

A hand lightly cupped her shoulder. Her breathing faltering as bony white fingers crawled down from their position, gripping the lapel of her jacket. The plaid sash tugged. She violently turned. A whirlwind of frantic intentions as she held her hands up to defend herself.

Erza grasped the appendage. Her hand reeling against the bony wrist. A high falsetto ringing in her ears as she met familiar light brown eyes.

"That hur-Erza," Lucy cried out. The brim of her long lashes wet as her stomach panged. Erza released her grip immediately, a red circle forming around the porcelain skin. There was surely to be a bruise soon.

"!- On the Dark Lord's name… Lucy." The girl backed away from her ever so slightly as she tried to coddle her into her arms. "It wasn't me… I- The spirits are slipping through."

She only acknowledged her with a small nod. Her eyes still wet but she made no move to wipe them. At the pace of a snail, Erza lifted her thumb. The smallest of motions made to swipe the stray tears from under her long lashes. The salt stinging the pad of her thumb, making Erza quake with uncertainty.

Time was ticking away but it wouldn't be wasted. Her friend more important than some silly demon. Even as Lucy pulled her wrist from Erza, she still managed to latch onto the silk fabric of her top. "Let me see," she requested tentatively. Already knowing how much she had overstepped her bounds.

Lucy's arm falling limp as she lost the effort to struggle. She had already spoken to her roommate about her morals. The first of her set commandments stating that she would never harm a fellow witch. Mainly those within the bounds of their coven. And much later down her list one outlining her duties to those who were her friends. Erza had already promised (not to Zeref) that her witchdom would go under the pretenses of knighthood in order to honorably protect those close to her. Those she roomed with most definitely included.

Erza gave a small smile as she looked over the flamed ring. Being perfectly honest, she knew nothing of anatomy of the physical body. Frowning at the damage she created.

"I'll teach you how to fix it once we find The Pantry. It's just some major bruising," she rolled her wrist with hesitance, "nothing feels or looks broken." Lucy squinting with displeasure at the small pop from her wrist. "Y-Yeah… We'll be good for a short while."

"Are you sure there isn't just a spell-" She was cut off by the shake of a head.

The upward turn of her lips was hardly noticeable as Lucy gave her a stern but earnest scolding. "You should know by now that any spell needs some sort of ingredient in order to work properly. If we didn't use the earth, then Zeref would not be happy."

Erza was sure to scold herself again later. How could she forget such a simple fact? She sighed, still frustrated over the loss of time. "If only we could find the damned closet."

"There has to be something we're missing. A simple clue… Headmistress Belserion placed the runes down, correct?" Brown eyes fleeting to the wall with curiosity alight; searching for an unanswered question.

"Yes but she redid it for a reason. Remember the last time it was broken into?" Erza was not privy to the thought of those intruders, that entire night a blasphemous mess. Witch hunters were always a fly to swat.

Lucy rolled her eyes, crouching down to the floor. She cradled her damaged wrist to her chest as her other hand feathered over the floorboards. "Let's not speak of it… But our keeper isn't to be underestimated. Come feel, Erza."

"The floor?" She was most certainly vexed, stubborn to Lucy's request.

The blonde merely tugged on her skirt, the fringes pulling from the mess she made earlier. With another sigh, Erza complied. She stopped down to her level, placing her palm against the floor. It was cool but a completely different twinge of cold she knew. It clicked, as she understood Lucy's request. Each floor board she touched, full of an abundance of the magik any witch knew as enchantments.

Her lids slid shut as she relished in the newfound energy -a satisfaction deserved through this arduous task, thus far.

"Now we must find its origin… The main source will be where the door is at." Lucy stood up, turning her head down the long corridor.

Erza followed, lulling over the new information. "We don't have the time to search every single floorboard."

"I know. Hence why I need to ask one more question." Erza was alert, more than willing to answer. Lucy's jaw tightened, going lax as she spoke quickly. "I need to know where Headmistress Belserion would put the door. Only you would know."

The strings had most definitely been pulled as Erza felt herself close off. Lucy's brown eyes widening to observe her as an owl -all knowing. "That's what I thought. Don't worry, I'm not one to tell."

Or pry, she thought. She slid her foot against the floor, the mysterious energy seeping into the soles of her feet. The power familiar, harsh -just as the wiles of her own mother. With her fortitude of stone and sheer isolation, it was hard to believe that Irene would have wanted a child in the first place. But here she was, taken back in for her mother's own desires. Whether they be selfish or instinctive, Erza had hardly known.

"We're not close…" The whispers of her classmates speculations filtering through her mind. Questions never coming through for the simple fact of the Headmistresses wrath. The witch never taking kindly to rumors of any sort.

"You're closer to her than the rest of the school's populus. Just think about it Erza. Where would the Headmistress hide the door?" Lucy's voice was held above the smallest of whispers, encouraging her. The blonde pushing her up on her own pillar.

Erza directed her attention down the hall, a stony figure calling for her. It was the woman of justice, scales held within the wraps of her hands. The blade of her sword glistening with specks of marble, the gold that lined the pedestal she sat upon hardly visible.

Justice was one of the foundations of this school. One of the most important things to Irene Belserion as she sought out the miscreants within their populus. Erza nodded toward the statue, triumph lining her words. "Right there, Lucy. She's protecting it."

They both proceeded down the hallway. The protection that lay near the stony woman, filtering about their steps. It grew as they neared; a sickly captivation over the two of them. Now they just had to sift through the inner workings of the spell.

1:25

Lucy had been kneeling in front of the statue for about five minutes. Erza holding her hand over the ancient symbols so that her eyes may see. There was two things they had discovered: one, the door was most definitely here -the energy they had identified as enchantment (and Irene's) pouring from the ground and Lady Justice herself. Two, this was going to require much more time to hack than Erza would have preferred.

She let out a huff, the pink silk of Lucy's night shirt pulled taut. "I'm going as fast as possible, Erza. The wording of the enchantment is odd and I can't switch it around so mindlessly. Unless you want a consequence."

The blonde was dignant as her finger brushed over the chipped scrawl. Some of the text had flowed from one place to another as Lucy worked her own magic. A small line of sweat breaking out over her forehead. Her very own magical energy being drained.

"Sorry," she grumbled. Erza made more of an effort to shine her hand over Lucy's meddlings. Only to get in the girl's way more than she had been previously.

Lucy was hyper focused on the wrought marble before her, pressing her manicured nails down on the lifted text. By now she was nearing the end of the stone's passage. She switched one more letter through the text. The small text brushing past all the others to be put at the top.

Erza did not recognize a single word as Lucy spoke. Her tone changing from one to another, eyes glowing golden as she read the new passage aloud. Erza stepped back from the flurry swirling around the girl's body, the spirits of tonight crying with a new change. The front of the stone shifting and changing mercilessly before Lucy's tongue.

The front of the statue fell with a resounding boom. A yellow yet artificial light billowing from the entrance just made. A small and square hole in which they wouldn't be able to walk through, but the passage short enough to see the entirety of the room.

Shelves upon shelves of glass jars full of living organisms and baskets billowing with plants and flowers alike. Lucy sighed with content, shaking as she looked on. Her eyes darted to Erza for a moment before laying her body onto the floor. Her face serene in the sight as her orbs were far away.

"I can only keep this open for so long. Go in and fetch what you need but bring back frankincense and aloe. Be steadfast, Erza." Lucy went limp as her eyes stayed open, the shadows dancing around her form.

The sight made Erza's guilty conscious grow but she would come back quickly. Lucy wouldn't suffer for any longer. She reeled from the brightness as she made her way through the small hole, holding her hand up from the magnificence.

There wasn't a directory of any sort as she meandered through the aisles. Each row she shited through only pushing her farther from her goal. She had found various animal ovaries, lavender, oils of various plants, even the heads of ancient peoples. There was no limit to the stock a witch or warlock may need.

She tapped against the cage of a mouse, chuckling as it scratched at its entrapment. "I'm sorry, you're not the one I'm here for. You know where I can find any eyeballs? Goat ones, preferably."

It squeaked, it's nose rising high into the air. Erza was confused as to why anyone would want to use a mangy rodent for a spell. Or any sacrificial endeavor. The things were dirty and scampered about, tarnishing whatever they thought was food. She was glad all the animals caged in The Pantry had been placed in plexiglass instead of a simple iron cage. If they had a way, they would nibble through it too.

Erza continued on her way, brushing her hand against the woven handle of a basket. She had soon found some aloe, the small leaf mingling with the broken glass in her pocket. Erza hated to admit, but she had no idea what frankincense looked like. This place lacking labels galore in order to find it. Maybe she should have paid attention in Witch's Necessities 101.

She had soon found the goats eye, reaching high for the dusty jar. The glass tipping over into her hands, as some of the formaldehyde splashed free; suffocating in the aroma of alcohol. Almost as if death were a liquid.

The beady eyes shined within the container, apathetic toward Erza's hand. The small cloth consumed in the formula as she reached for one. None of the numerous parts drifting into her hand, only slipping about the container. A small squelch erupting from one. The tissue lining her hand, viscous and murky -almost retching from her mistake. Clearly she had underestimated how hard it would be to the slitted eye.

Her hand froze in the jar as the floor beneath her thundered. Metal ringing nigh as the crackling of glass tumbled. Heavy breathing accompanied by the drag of pieces. The creatures chittering stall by stall as the steps neared her.

"Who shall I punish today?" A dark tone accompanied by the shuffling of feet. The next phrase muffled by a large crash, a knock of wood.

Through the shelves, they began to fall like dominos. Each one toppling straight for her as she stood in an incapacitated state. The fear of the night overwhelming her so.

Her hand held the jar to her stomach dashing down the aisle; sliding as the shelf beside her creaked. Jars fell and shattered, leaving the remnants of the goodies left inside. All pooled in the acidic bath of embalming juice and oils.

Erza screeched as an iron disc flew by her head, a chuckle coming down the crooked lane. "Found you."

She quickly pocketed the slimy orb, making it lie within her breast pocket. She scrambled backwards, tripping in her attempt to stand -blind to her new opponent. Erza stood in the middle of the room, the small crook in the wall beginning to close.

"Dammit…"

Her heart palpated as she looked for the last item. There was no way she could leave without it, she needed it. Lucy needed it. The frustration bubbled in her throat, scanning the ground for any leaf or plant. All the colors blending into one as she frantically scanned the ground.

A small sheath of silver flasheshed from the heavens. Too late she realized it was a sword, the blade arching down for her. She backed away, the frustration freed as a cry of pain. Her shoulder hot and flamed.

One foot locking with another, gravity pulling her back to the ground. Her vision blurred, the stone slab in the wall shutting.

Before her stood the same beautiful marble statue that Lucy had tampered with. The thin stone lips sharp as they quirked to the side. The blade dripping with a dark coat of red, tainting the white floor. Her scales missing one of the sides, the balance offset.

"There will be no mercy for intruders, especially you. Scarlet." The voice was too deep for a woman's, poisoned with wrath. And yet wrought with guilt. Her head bowed, her blindfold poised in Erza's direction.

The short sword was angled right above her. One hand holding the weapon, small fissures braking in her hands as she wavered. The blade dove straight for her heart but she wasn't so motionless.

She barreled toward the door. Speeding on her hands and knees to the closing slab, reaching aimlessly. In pain and in distress, she cried out once more. "One more second!"

The door still closed, feet clambering behind her. She didn't dare look behind. Another bronze disk winding past her head. "Lucy!"

Erza dipped her head low, the breeze of the academy calling for her. She wiggled under the stopped door, pulling herself against the floor.

An unnatural hand latched onto her ankle, yanking harshly. Another screech was unleashed as she kicked back, her sole smashing against brittle stone. Her hands pasted against the floor as she was pulled back once more into oblivion. The stone beginning to press into the back of her thighs.

Familiar dark tresses were a curtain and long pale arms wrapped around her own. Dark orbs full of disappointment as she was saved from the woman of justice.

2:10

Erza seethed as a special ointment was applied to her shoulder. Not only had she ruined her only uniform but there was no frankincense to be had.

"I told you this was foolish," Kagura's voice held in a monotone fashion. She wrapped her shoulder tightly, her blazer and button down set on the floor.

Her face was red as Kagura finished wrapping the bandages around her bosom. "You weren't supposed to get involved."

She only shook her head, throwing her soiled clothes into the garbage can. Erza opened her mouth in protest, "You will not soil those wraps with dirty garments."

Erza huffed, standing from the bench. Lucy was conscious but lost. Kagura had tended to the girl far before Erza had returned from The Pantry. The inflamed ring around her wrist disappeared, returning to the smooth skin before.

"Then give me your jacket," Erza demanded. She stood from the bench with her hands on her hips. Her stomach taut in the cool hall. She dove back into the trash can for one reason only -the slimy yellow goat's eye; surprised that it hadn't been squashed like the other.

Kagura's eyes rolled as she shrugged out of her own school uniform. "Ungrateful," she muttered.

Erza caught the blazer with ease, buttoning it up. "Don't think I'm not thankful…" Lady Justice's voice boomed in her ears, still making her unsteady. "I am… I just- You two weren't supposed to be here. And look at the mess you two will be thrown into."

"There won't be as long as you summon that demon," Lucy interjected. Kagura's hand forming into a small fist as the blonde continued. "Even the Mistress isn't capable of summoning one, there won't be any consequences if you do. There will be praise instead."

"Or expulsion," Kagura drawled.

Lucy pet Kagura on the head, already on her way for the stairwell. "You never know then but we must go. The witching hour is upon us."

The two were on the opposite side of the coin but Erza couldn't help but agree. What type of mess had she gotten herself into?

2:50

They had made it back to the third floor without a single stop. Well, Lucy did stop to take a small bathroom break. The idea to powder her nose in the middle of the night seemed senseless to them, but neither said a word. Their friend looking much better once she exited the east hall girls bathroom, her pink pajamas straightened and her hair much more neatly combed through. A new fire set as she found herself once more.

Kagura had happily picked the door open and then locked it shut. A small grin set upon her lips the entire time. Even during the time they spent setting up the redstone pentagram. And even as the three of them gathered and readied their ingredients.

They set up each of the elements at the five points. An lamp of oil alight, saltened water, a feather of a raven, and a blue sapphire. The top point of the star holding her small burlap doll.

She walked round the circumference taking a thoughtful look to everything -even down to the smallest details. Her toe prodding at the powder that has settled deep within the crevices of the floorboards. Erza looked between the two girls, nodding.

"Get ready… The hour is nearing."

Kagura grumbled once more as she stood at the point of the earth. "I never said I would participate in your silly charade."

"And yet you set up a perfect star," she shot back.

Kagura paused and she felt victorious. Though she feared for her friend's safety, the three of them would be the most powerful together. She wouldn't take this accomplishment for herself if the spell succeeded. They would all bask in glory.

Erza stalked to the center of the circle, unfolding the small handkerchief. She handled the eye with the utmost care as she placed it in the middle of the circle. Even more cautious as to not disturb the maroon lines. Even the fine powder could not be misplaced for this ceremony. Perfection was key.

She stood at the highest point -life. Erza bowed her head toward Lucy and then Kagura, raising her palms face down to begin the proper incantations. A small silver blade settled in the band of her skirt. The metal chilling against the front of her hips, ready to jump out.

The match in the blonde's hand set alight as she kneeled down. She quickly set the lamp ablaze, a small flame rising from the nozzle. The copper tray a dizzying sight as the flame lifted higher, those passing already doing their work.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a synchronous breath with her roommates. One of her hands dropped as the other lifted, spreading her fingers wide. She could feel her own magic mingle with the warm essence of Lucy's and the mysterious strings of Kagura's, pinching her brows together as she searched for the beginning of the incantation. The words lost to her as those of Hallows Eve, rumbled with excitement around them.

Erza's muscles slowly began to bunch up. A presence like no other filling the room and her mouth opened. Her eyelids popping open to the bright glow of the pentagram. A blood red filling her vision as they brushed the cusp of Tartaros. Her voice low as she chanted on, thanking Zeref for his merciful grace and the powers bestowed upon the three.

A prayer of the thoughts and musings running about their minds. A flash of a sharp smile and everything went dark. The room a deep abyss of negative thought but she still held on, holding out her palm further -closer to the middle. Her fingers stretching to reach the presence that sat in the center of their star.

Zeref had delivered.

Now it was her turn to fulfill the bargain. Her mind racked with the spell, her tongue moving with ease. She flicked her palm upward, the star flaring brightly with red. The largest line crossing over the threshold of three.

On this Hallow's Eve, I deliver thy

Zeref's creation and servant

Come forth unto me deimon with the binding of scarlet!

In one quick motion, she presented her blade. Metallic glinting across the black walls; swirling with the deep hues of crimson to make pink. Another movement across her scarred palm. It burned. Drops of mars falling down onto the sad little doll.

The seconds ticked by. She fisted her palm, the red running from the wrinkles in her hand. She felt a sense of euphoria washing over her, dazed in her stance. A fog lifting until she stared deep into the depths of dark and mirthy pools of blue and porcelain skin.

3:02

Her breath fell short as a woman lain within the pentagon of the star. She was nimble and voluptuous. Her curves outlined in the skin-tight dress she donned. Lips plump with shined gold, accented by her silver hair. The waves proceeding down and down, laying atop her bottom.

Had she summoned a queen instead? Erza stared in awe, much like her roommates.

The demoness blinked, observing each of them. Her gaze merely flicking over Erza's appearance. Maybe she should have dressed up a bit more, made her face and had her hair done. Her heart fluttering in a way she hadn't known possible.

A long pink tongue swiped over her lips, curving over her angel's bow. "And which one of you is my treat?"

Lucy's jaw dropped and Erza only reciprocated her feelings. She stood up straight, clearing her throat. "I'm afraid there's no 'treats'. You will not be eating any humans or witches during your stay."

A small pout flounced over her painted lips. Her long legs peaking from the slit as she sauntered over to Erza. Her breath felt strangled in her throat as she neared, the frown turning around -a dangerous curve leering. The blue glinting with mischief.

Her hand was a blur as it wrapped around her wrist. "I think you'll be my treat on this fine day."

She winked and Erza froze as her bloodied hand was brought to her mouth. Grinning before her tongue slipped out once more. The pink muscle curving over the fine line in her palm; pressing flat against it. A sultrous moan rumbling from the demon's throat. Next thing she knew, those golden lips were pressed against her palming. Gently sucking against the wound she made.

Erza bit her lip. A small whimper emitting from her mouth as she pulled away. The demon's mouth encased with red as she let out a small sigh.

"And Zeref let you be my master?" She merely nodded, wishing that she would take her back into her hand -no, be wrapped in her embrace. The woman before her bursting into a fit of laughter. "I'm going to have much more fun than I did last time then. Seems like you're still hurt, Mistress."

Her eyes darted to her shoulder, the blue fabric darkened by her shoulder wound. Her slim digits smoothing over the fabric sending an involuntary shiver through her. But the moment was stolen by Kagura. "And who may you be?"

The demon was obviously offended, swirling around aggressively. Her hand held over her heart, batting her long lashes. "And who am I you ask?"

Her nod was dismissive. The demon continuing on her small rampage. "To some, I am the Mother of the Darkness itself. Others I am known as Zeref's concubine, mistress. The one who took a bite from the forbidden fruit -lead men astray from the righteous path."

Once again they were all thrown into awe. The demoness standing straight with pride, hands settled on the swell her hips. A small smirk settled on her lips as Kagura bowed her head in a form of apology.

"I am Mirajane -Zeref's first creation."

And with that, she left in a dark portal. A small paper left on the ground.

-I'll fix you later. (Love Mira)

The golden lips plastered onto the paper. If this night was good, the morning would be glorious. Erza looked between her two friends, a wide smile on her face. Unnoticing her healed injury and the missing scar.

They retreated to their room for the rest of the morning. A hard knock on the door throwing the three from their slumber.

Depending on the response I receive, I may continue this.

#erzajane #erzajane week #erza x mira #erza scarlet #mirajane strauss #lucy heartfilia #kagura mikazuchi #irene belserion #minerva orlando #sting eucliffe #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail #ft #horror #suspense #my writing #the witching hour

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fafulous · 6 years

Text

New Orleans’ Auror (TOxHP) Chapter 7

Synopsis: Willow Scarlett, the ministry’s best Auror, decides to take a long sabbatical and settles in the mysterious city of New Orleans.

Little does she know that her past comes backs to haunt her in this very city along with a particular family only Willow has heard in tales and folklore.

Co-Author: @sweetpea-cc

Chapter 1 | Chapter 6

Scarlett paced up and down as she narrated the night's events to her not-so-human family. Everyone listened with delight, especially Lucy, her cute large elf ears standing upright with all the attention. Her excitement was at its peak, knowing that the Mikaelsons actually exist. Carlisle was not happy with the turn of events - he hated vampires.

"Good Lord, ungrateful hooligans. I told you this was a wrong place to be."

"Oh good heavens sir, why do you keep saying that?" questioned Willow.

"They're so dangerous. So dangerous. It's not our world to mess with. Anyways," he let out a huge yawn that made Iris ruffle her feathers, "it's midnight and it's really time I go to sleep-"

Willow chuckled as Carlisle passed out while talking. She turned around and walked to her room, with Iris on her shoulders still and Lucy following her.

Willow's room had subtle lighting, with minimalistic furniture. A medium size wooden four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room with light blue sheets, with no shortage of pillows. She loved blue, ever since she got sorted into her house in Hogwarts- Ravenclaw. The window was clad with light green curtains, which had a direct view of her plants outside, with some black cauldrons on the deck.

On one side of the room was her wardrobe with clothes for all the occasions and the other side, which was her favorite, had her oak study with her parchments, quills, and inks. Beside the table, she stacked a few more books that were close to her heart. The walls had photos of her along with Lucy and Iris, goofing around in the Quidditch World Cup with hats bigger than their heads.

Iris perched over on the bed's footboard and watched her owner untie her hair.

Lucy finally broke the silence, "How did they look Willow?"

She chuckled to herself thinking about the night. She was frustrated with the ungrateful vampires except for the man who walked her home.

"Handsome- er. Um, they look just like normal humans," she corrected herself, being a little flustered. "That Niklaus Mikaelson is a riot, Merlin's beard. Paranoid, ungrateful, narcissistic..."

Willow went on and on about him and got into the details of the night as she changed into her hazel silk night robes. She talked of Kol Mikaelson and mentioned that she had already bumped into him that very morning.

Lucy couldn't contain her excitement. "Was he the same man who walked you home Willow?"

"Nope" she stated as she sat on the side of her soft, comfy bed, "It was the other brother, Elijah Mikaelson."

Was she smitten by the chocolate-eyed vampire? Maybe a little, she thought, as she drifted into another world of thoughts.

Lucy nudged her by her thigh and broke her bubble of thoughts.

"Yes yes Lucy, you were asking?"

The little elf gave her a smirk, almost knowing what she was thinking of. She came close to her owner, her eyes gleaming from the light from the side lamp.

"I think Willow Scarlett should sleep, it's getting late."

Willow smiled and bent low to plant a kiss on Lucy's forehead. Following suit, Iris hopped on the bed to her beloved owner, stretching out her head in anticipation of a forehead kiss too. It was an everyday ritual.

"Good night my dears," she whispered as she pecked a kiss on her owl's head. Iris flew out of the room in joy and Lucy disapperated after she turned off the lights in the room in a snap of her finger.

The table lamp illuminated Willow's tired facial features and decided to give in. She scooted and pulled the bed covers to herself, tucked in cozily. Willow recalled the night's events, only for her to keep thinking about Elijah. She smiled more as she snuggled into her sheets. It took only minutes for her to drift into a deep slumber...

---

She trembled as she walked towards the Entrance Courtyard. All she could see was blinding lights from the spells cast by witches, wizards and the dreadful death eaters at one against the other with sparks of green and red light. It was the night of The Battle of Hogwarts.

The courtyard's structure was in half-rambles, bombarded recklessly by the death eaters. Her chest was bleeding from the recent scars she had encountered from Bellatrix. Her hands were bloody, clenching her chest with her tattered clothing. The smog and dust around made Willow cough as she tried to find a clearing for her to rest.

As she walked by dragging her feet, she suddenly tripped over and fell down flat. It took her time to realize that some spell had been cast on her. She turned around to see her attacker while panting, trying to make out who it was with the smog surrounding the person. It was him.

A white blonde haired man with streaks of black pointed his wand at Willow lying on the floor with the wreckage, his light grey eyes wearing a vengeful, sinister look. He held his wand sturdily giving the impression that he would attack any moment...

"Go on. Do it, you coward!"

He gave out an eerie laugh that made her hair stand on the end and he looked at her with the same contempt.

"I won't kill you Scar. You'll be useful to me one day..."

The next thing she saw and heard was a blinding flash of green light and high pitched howls.

---

Being too short for the bed, Lucy jumped onto the bed after 3 tries to wake up a shivering, sweating Willow.

"Willow Scarlett, wake up! Wake up!" shouted Lucy as she shook her.

Willow's eyes shot open and got up in an instant. She immediately kept her trembling hand on her chest, feeling her scattered scars and her fast beating heart, and closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure.

For the first time in 15 years, she had dreamt of the war, she had dreamt of him. Small beads of sweat lined her forehead. She shook her head, pushing back her messy hair to her head. Lucy was gracious enough to wipe off the sweat with her tiny hands.

"Lucy waited till 10:00 am for your morning walk and realized that Willow didn't wake up. Lucy came to Willow's room, only to see her shivering and shaking. If Willow Scarlett needs anything, Lucy is always here."

"Don't you worry. Just a bad dream," assured Willow.

"But, there is something Lucy needs to tell you immediately."

Willow straightened herself, coming back to normalcy. "Go on."

"There's this really admirable man walking up and down outside our front yard. He tried to enter the house, but the couldn't thanks to your wonderful skills."

"Is he?" she said, as she got down the bed and made her way to the living room.

Willow gave her morning salutations to Carlisle and Iris and proceeded to look at this admirable man through the window.

Below the beautiful blue clear sky was Kol Mikaelson, looking lost as if someone had given him the wrong address. Willow couldn't help but smile. She wondered if Elijah had tipped off her house location to his brother, it has to be the only way.

"Lucy do me a favour darling and run a bath for me will you, please? The man standing outside is Kol Mikaelson."

She didn't have to turn around to see their reactions. Lucy gave a huge whoop of excitement and heard her footsteps running towards her bathroom. She also heard Carlisle's mumbling on her mistake of befriending the Mikaelsons. But nevertheless, Willow made her way towards the bathroom.

After changing into comfortable clothes in a matter of 10 minutes, Willow strutted towards Kol, his back to her. He turned around at her, probably hearing the sound of her footsteps she thought.

"Looking for me, are we?"

"Bloody hell, how the hell did you come from that dirt of a house?"

"So you were looking for me?" she replied, as she came face to face.

It appeared as if the Mikaelson in front of him was a bit fidgety with his words.

"Listen here Willow, about last night," he continued as he saw her crossing her arms on her chest, "Elijah would have apologized, but nonetheless I'm sorry too for my brother's behavior."

"Oh galloping gorgons, you have nothing to apologize for. If someone needs to, its that terrible brother of yours, no offense."

"None taken, darling," smiled Kol. "Shall we go for a stroll towards the compound and continue that conversation of ours?"

"Back at your unpropitious house?" asked a concerned Willow.

"Please, I'd like to repay the favor for last night over some lovely brunch that doesn't comprise of blood, at least for you."

He handed out his elbow, just like the previous night and Willow couldn't oppose to say no.

"Please?" he asked.

"It shall be my pleasure."

The warm sun gave them comfort as they walked and talked. Willow learned that these vampires cannot enter random houses unless they get an invite, which fascinated her even more. She went on to tell him that her house was an exceptional case since everyone, supernatural or not, needed an invite.

"Are you that powerful?" asked a smirking Kol.

"I can be humble but if you want the truth, I am kind of the best."

"Marvelous!" stated a thrilled Kol, "Quick. Surprise me with a fact," he said as they both walked into the compound.

Willow and Kol stopped in the luxurious living room. Rich decors with aristocratic sofa and paintings lined the room. Not expecting this in a vampire's house, her eyes went wide open at the sight before her.

"We um fly on broomsticks - Gargoyles what the hell is a corpse of a woman doing in your living room?"

"Ohhhh um," dragged Kol, "That is my petty brother's petty ex-girlfriend, Aurora de Martel."

Willow remained to stare at the corpse on the table, thinking which brother it could be...

Unconsciously she asked, "Do all you vampires collect your ex-girlfriends and boyfriends like this?"

"Most of the times, yes." This time it was a woman's voice. Willow turned around to see a blonde hair woman accompanied by another one. "Looks like Kol is actually obsessed with you."

Willow let out a small laugh and looked at Kol.

"Oh, dear sister. Your observations are ever perfect- where are my manners? Willow, meet my two sisters. Rebekah and Freya Mikaelson."

She waved at the two of them and then continued to look back at the corpse behind the Sofa. The woman was covered with a white sheet of fabric except for her face, her red hair shabbily lying on the table. She looked peaceful in her death slumber. But it couldn't be - Willow thought she saw her eyelids twitch, which made her heart skip a beat.

"Isn't she supposed to be dead?" she asked curiously, turning around to the siblings, with her face filled in bewilderment.

"She's under a sleeping curse," said Freya as she came closer to Willow, "But don't worry about her, it's a complicated story. Kol mentioned that you, the mystical witch, will be dropping in for lunch. Allow me to take you to our dining. Elijah and Klaus will be there too."

Willow took a deep breath and nodded in consent. She felt a bit conscious because she was going to meet Elijah and the Hybrid but nevertheless, she got a bad feeling from this woman in slumber. She walked slowly towards the door and took one last glance at the unconscious woman and she swore that she saw her both her eyelids flicker.

Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you all for being patient with my slow updates! Hope you're enjoying the story! :D

Taglist: @sweetpea-cc @poemfreak306 @spunky-89 @ranger-treaty @kickasskittie23 @shanty-lol @theroyalbrownbarbie

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wtfjd95 · 6 years

Text

Hospital Visit

Leaning on the door-frame of her bedroom door, her eyes focused in on the young brunette, who lay, as naked as the day she was born, underneath the extravagantly expensive bed-sheets. Y/N had woken to find many unknown women in her bed multiple times before and went through the same routine each time. Her bed mate would attempt an awkward conversation, once awake, while fumbling around for their clothes all the while hoping for her to say that she wanted to see them again, only for the words to never come.

Y/N took a sip of the coffee she held in her hand, the bitter hazel colored liquid burning slightly as it ran down her throat and warmed her stomach once it hit. The woman on the bed rolled around a bit, eventually finding a comfortable position and Y/N smirked at the beauty of her, still sleeping bed mate. She’d done it again, not that she doubted her ability of seducing beautiful women into coming home with her as there were always gorgeous women eager to please the wealthy.

Y/N backed away from the door as her house guest began to stir and her mobile began ringing in the pocket of her track pants.

“Hello” She said, positioning the phone against her ear.

“Y/N” a gruff voice asked.

“Geoffrey” Y/N sighed looking to the floor. “What do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“It’s Flynn” Geoffrey stated simply.

At the mention of her half-brother, Y/N tensed. “What about him?” Y/N questioned spotting her house guest getting dressed. “If he’s in trouble, I can’t help. I’m only a detective.”

She set her coffee down and walked out onto her balcony for some privacy.

“He’s been attacked. He’s currently in National City Memorial Hospital.” Geoffrey said. “He’s been asking for you, said he won’t say anything if you’re not here.”

“Fine, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Y/N said walking back into the hall as she hung up, only to be stopped by last night’s conquest.

“Hey hot stuff” The random girl purred, practically draping herself over Y/N, her shoes in one hand as the other caressed Y/N’s jaw. “Call me later?”

“Look, Lucy, uh, Laura, Luna?” Y/N said, stumbling over remembering the girl’s name. “Last night was fun and all but it was a onetime thing. There is no future for us; I’m not the relationship type.”

“My name is Leighla and you are such a pig” Leighla snapped using the hand that was previously cupping Y/N’s face to deliver a resounding slap to the detectives face before storming down the stairs.

“Is everything okay Miss Y/L/N?” Nieve, one of Y/N’s housekeepers asked as she appeared next to the younger woman, laundry basket in hand. “I heard yelling?”

“Everything’s fine Nieve, although I do need to leave Metropolis for a while.” The Y/H/C woman said. “Geoffrey called saying Flynn’s been hurt.”

“Oh, I do hope he’s OK” Nieve said, setting the laundry basket down and moving to stand in front of the younger woman. “Do you want me to get some ice for your face?” she pointed out the large handprint that had begun forming on Y/N’s face.

“That won’t be necessary but would you mind asking Louis to get my motorbike ready?” Y/N asked.

People streamed in & out of the doors of National City Memorial Hospital, careful to avoid oncoming motorists as they hurried to leave or visit family/friends. Out of nowhere a growling sound came from the end of the block, almost as if an aggressive dog had got loose, when a red Kawasaki motorbike sped down the road and into the parking lot, barely missing a few people. Slamming down on the brakes, the driver swung the back end to make the bike skid as it stopped, scattering asphalt and murky rain water behind her. Forcing the kickstand down, she smashed her dirty combat boots on the muddy ground and peeled her gloves off and once she removed her helmet, she threw both items into her oversized rucksack. Raking a hand through her hair, the color of Y/H/C, she grunted in exasperation at the incredulous looks she got from the surrounding people and staff before climbing off her bike and turned on her heel to look at the building.

“Why did I come back?” She wondered, the dryness in her throat causing the rasp in her normally clear & lilted voice.

“Y/N, over here!” Geoffrey’s PA, Nathan shouted with a wave from the entrance of the hospital.

“Oh, yeah, Flynn’s attack.” Y/N mumbled running a hand through her messy hair as she walked towards her father. “Pity I have to be around Geoffrey though.”

“Glad to see you could make it Y/N.” Geoffrey drawled appearing in the main reception of the hospital. “A day late.”

“Yes, well, I did have business to finish back in Metropolis.” she explained. “Not that it’s any of your business. Anyway, I’m here to see Flynn. Nathan, would you mind showing me to his room?”

“Of course Detective.” Nathan smiled raising his arm to point at the elevators. “If you’d follow me.”

As the trio walked towards the elevators, Y/N scanned the crowded reception, her eyes landing on a familiar head of raven hair, Lena Luthor but her eyes were drawn and stuck to the beautiful blonde next to her.

“Now, Flynn you know that I may not be able to do anything with this.” Y/N told her half brother.

Standing at the end of Flynn’s hospital bed, Y/N held a small notepad and pen, keeping notes on everything that Flynn had to tell her about the attack.

“I don’t really have any jurisdiction in National City but if this ties into gang activity, which crosses between Metropolis and National City then I should be able to do something to kick start it but I can’t promise that anything will happen.” Y/N explained with a sigh.

“OK, I’ll let you know if I remember anything else then and let you get settled in.” Flynn said, wincing slightly as he pulled on his bruised jaw as he spoke.

“Alright, you rest up and don’t let Geoffrey wind you up.” Y/N said putting her notepad away and moving to press a kiss to Flynn’s forehead. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, I might not like dad but I do care about you.”

“I know, see you later Y/N” Flynn smiled pressing a hand to his older sisters shoulder. “Get going before dad decides to come in and he sees your caring side.”

Y/N chuckled in reply as she moved to leave the room. “See you later bro.” She smiled, closing the door so Flynn could sleep some more.

“Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?” A familiar female voice wondered as the detective waited for an elevator.

Turning around, Y/N found herself looking at Lena Luthor. The dealings that she had with the Luthor family were less than great but the time she spent with Lena outside of the Luthor cases, more than made up for the crap that Lex put her through. Although, once again, Y/N’s eyes were drawn to Lena’s blonde companion.

“Hey Lena! Long time no see!” The detective greeted meeting the Luthor heiress halfway in a hug. “What brings you to the hospital? Another attempt on your life?”

“No, although I think I would prefer that.” Lena said as the three women entered the elevator. “I’m actually here on business.”

“Really? I never imagined you to be interested in the medical sciences.” The Y/H/C woman said, a confused look appearing on her face.

“Oh, no, sadly the device that I used to help stop the Daxamite invasion, appears to have affected many children and I am trying to find a way to reverse the effects.” Lena said as her friend coughed slightly, drawing the attention away from the conversation.

“Oh, sorry. Lena who’s your friend?” Y/N asked, a small smirk appearing as she looked over the young blonde accompanying Lena, earning a slight bush in return.

“Right, Y/N Y/L/N, meet Kara Danvers. Kara meet Detective Y/N Y/L/N.” Lena introduced the two women.

“Nice to meet you” Kara said extending her hand.

“Pleasures all mine.” Y/N purred kissing the back of Kara’s hand with a wink.

#Kara Danvers #Supergirl CW #Female Reader Insert #Kara Danvers Imagine #CW TV #Fem Reader

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lumenstella · 4 years

Note

✉ ♣ ✍ ☎ ☮ ϟ ☾

✉: For a regular text message from my muse.

[text] If it’s not too busy, I’ll stop by the planetarium after work

[text] I need to get some groceries but I have to close again tonight

[text] And I don’t want to go to the store by myself at that time (╥﹏╥)

[text] Will my brave knight accompany me? (✧ω✧)

♣: Here, have a not so regular (maybe even a dirty one) text message.

[text] Hey....did I leave something there last night?

[text] It’s..........kind of important. Would you mind bringing it over?

✍: For what my muse has written about yours in their diary.

Sometimes I feel like it should be illegal for some people to look as good as they do. I mean, seriously! Obviously, I appreciate the fact his uniform is a suit, but it’s unfair that it fits him so well. We were just having the usual “meeting” (does it really count if there’s only two of us right now?) and I just happened to catch him looking up at the Milky Way projection and he just looked so pretty I thought I was going to lose my mind right there! I did sneak a picture. Thankfully I had my phone on silent and the flash was off or else I’d never live it down. ...I probably shouldn’t be writing this here, but it’s fine. Not like he’ll ever find it. Maybe.

☎: For a drunk phone call.

“Lokkeeeee...” she whined as soon as he picked up. “Where are youuu? I miss youuuu...Where’d you goooo..” She pouted, poking her wine glass as if that would magically fill it up again. Or maybe empty it? Maybe emptying it would be better. Her head felt so fuzzy and light already. “I want to see you...” she murmured, a bit quieter as she laid her head down. “I want to see you right now...but you’re not here..”

☮: An argument I think my muse would have with yours.

She wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t. She was, in absolutely no way, shape, or form, bothered by the sight of him chatting up another girl. That charming, dazzling smile as those compliments flowed as easily as a river. “Ah-hem,” she coughed sharply. Right, the only reason she was irritated was because they’d made plans to meet up today so she could work on mastering her abilities as a King. Not at all because she was jealous. “Am I interrupting something? Or did you change your plans?”

ϟ: There's a storm going on and our muses are stuck together in a house- how will this go?

She always made it a point to be home as soon as possible when the forecast called for storms. Plue didn’t handle them very well, and she always tried to be there before the storm could even start. Today was no different, and she was glad Loke had been more than understanding when she asked if they could work on their project at her place because of it. The storm was just starting by the time they made it in and got settled around the coffee table. Plue was wrapped in a blanket in her lap, though she could still feel the slight, anxious tremors in his small body. Still, they started to work, going over the points they wanted to make for their paper and presentation--only to be interrupted by a loud crack of thunder.

Lucy couldn’t help the yelp of surprise that left her lips as she jumped slightly, unintentionally leaning into Loke’s side. “S-sounds like it’s getting worse out there..” It wasn’t like she was afraid of storms or anything, but she definitely felt a little unsettled when they got really bad. Loke opened his mouth to respond, but there was another loud crack and then the entire apartment was plunged into darkness. Her fingers grasped at the fabric of his shirt, Plue held protectively in her other arm. “There’s some candles in one of the kitchen drawers,” Lucy began, “though if it stays off, we won’t be able to do much work anyway..”

☾: It's in the middle of the night and my muse had a nightmare about yours- what does my muse do?

It was too late. His breathing was too shallow, his skin pale. Those once-vibrant hazel eyes were dim and dark now. He was fading fast, despite her pleas, despite her desperate cries of his name... Lucy jolted out of bed with a start, a loud gasp tearing itself free from her lips. Her room was dark, and it took her a few seconds to realize she was in her room, in her own bed. Her fingers dug into the sheets as she let out a shaky breath, one hand rising to wipe at the tears spilling down her cheeks.

She turned abruptly, fumbling on her nightstand for her phone. She barely looked at the time, knowing it was probably too late and he was probably asleep. Still, her heart flooded with relief when he answered, his voice rough with sleep, and sounding confused and concerned all at once. Under normal circumstances, she would have thought it was cute, but right now, she was just happy to hear his voice on the other line.

“Is everything okay...?” he asked. “Did something happen...?”

“No, I...” she swallowed hard, trying to hide the way her voice shook or the way she sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “I just wanted to hear your voice...That’s all. I’m sorry if I woke you up..”

#kinged meme day #[ read more'd for length ]#keyofthelion

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otakugirlkrod · 7 years

Text

Three years have passed

A/N: I’m so sorry for the long wait. This chapter is a little short. Also I wanted to say that maybe I made Gajeel a little OOC in this chapter but I don’t know XD. Let me know your thoughts about it. Any like, comment and reblogged is appreciated. P.S. Sorry if I made any mistake on the grammar. I didn’t asked for help in this one, but I hope all of you can understand it.

Anime: Fairy Tail

Couple: Gajevy

Rated: T (Language)

Genres: Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Status: On going

Summary: Tired of being “the damsel in distress”, Levy left the guild without telling anyone except Master Makarov. She spent three years far away from Magnolia learning new spells to improve her skills. But finally, it is time to return home. What’s that strange magic she learned?

Chapter One:https://otakugirlkrod.tumblr.com/post/158442724445/three-years-have-passed

Chapter Two: https://otakugirlkrod.tumblr.com/post/159584893235/three-years-have-passed

Chapter Three: https://otakugirlkrod.tumblr.com/post/159780767225/three-years-have-passed

Chapter Four: https://otakugirlkrod.tumblr.com/post/160171984995/three-years-have-passed

Chapter five: Revealing the truth

Somewhere in Magnolia, hiding behind a bush of a dark forest, Levy rested all her weight on her knees and pressed her chest with both hands.

“This has gone too far. They didn’t deserved to see that. I have to do something about it but I don’t know what.” Levy said frustrated.

Gajeel showed up and leaned down. “There you are. You know you can’t escape from me.” He said touching his nose, indicating his amazing sense.

“Oh Gajeel” Levy hugged him tightly. He place his left arm around her shoulders and the other curled around her waist. Giving her a soothing hug.

He broke away the embrace and slipped his left hand all the way down to hers. “Come here” He hold her hand tightly and turned around “Let’s go home.”

As she walked behind him, Levy looked at his black mane. He makes my fears fade away. She thought and glanced to the ground.

They kept walking all the way down to Gajeel’s house holding each other’s hands.

The guild…what are they thinking about me? Jet, Droy, Lucy…poor Wendy she must be frightened. Levy turned her gaze to their holding hands. I wonder why you came after me.

Fairy Tail guild was astonished. They didn’t know how to react. The bluenette was raised there and what happened made most of them terrified. Some whispers started to invade the whole guild until someone shouted.

“She’s a monster!” Said an angry guildmate.

Lucy followed the source of the voiced and replied: “She’s a human! She’s our friend!”

The new discussion separated some guildmates. The ones who ignored Lucy’s comment keep shouting.

Someone added. “We can’t have someone like her in the guild.”

“Master, she’s a threat!”

Jet couldn’t hear any more of their nonsense. “STOP TALKING SHIT!”

“She’s our comrade.” A teary-eyed Wendy joined.

Natsu stepped forward and looked around. “WE ARE THE ONLY FAMILY SHE HAS AND YOU’RE GONNA TURNED YOUR BACK AT HER!? WHAT KIND OF FRIEND DOES THAT?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Makarov caught the attention of both sides. “Levy has been part of this family since she was a child. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. We don’t know exactly what happened, but she will never be a threat.” The master finished his statement and everyone looked down disappointed of their own actions.

Poor Levy. Mirajane thought.

Back to Gajeel and Levy, they finally reached their destination. The silent between them was getting uncomfortable and Gajeel was feeling the weirdness.

Hazel eyes were still looking at Gajeel’s back. The more I looked at him, the more I filled my head with doubts. Why are you helping me so much? Levy thought.

Gajeel stood in front of his home doorknob, opened it, walked in and turned around. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stop it.” His rough voice caught her attention.

She looked at him. “Stop whatever you’re thinking. Your aura is getting contagious.”

He released her hand. “We won’t talk about what happened back there. But I think I deserve an explanation of what you did these past three years.”

He sniffed the air and look at the opened door “Lily’s coming”. He turned his gaze back to her and realized that her skin was back to normal.

“Lev, your marks-”

Lily interrupt him. “Levy, the runes are gone.” She looked confused at the small black exceed.

“That’s exactly what I was going to say.” Gajeel growled.

“R-really?” She stuttered in disbelief. Levy looked down at her thighs and confirmed it.

“See, there’s nothing to worry about.” Gajeel crossed his arms in front of his exposed muscular chest.

“At least not for now.” She said worriedly.

Pantherlily felt the tension between the two and decided to leave them alone. “I’m gonna get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”

And with those last words, Levy was left alone with Gajeel.

Levy sat on the couch and Gajeel proceed to follow her.

“Oi, Lev” He looked at her intensely.

“Hmm?” She turned her head to the side and blushed at the closeness of their faces. “G-Gajeel” She blushed.

His gaze was serious, and she knew he was waiting for answers. Levy sighed and started. “I couldn’t take it anymore.” Gajeel looked confused. “All I wanted was to improve my second origin powers.”

“You could have done it here.” He finally said.

“Of course not!” She looked at him fiercely. “The whole guild thinks I’m a weakling. They think of me as someone they HAD to protect and I was tired of it. I wanted to show all of you that I’m a capable mage, someone worthy to be an S class mage.”

She wasn’t answering his doubt and he was getting tired of her excuses. He hold her by the shoulders and looked directly at those hazel eyes. “What did you do?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you capable of using dragon slayer magic?”

“I can’t tel-“ Levy started but he cut her off.

“What’s the fucking mistery?! Just tell me already! What the hell you did?” He tightened his grip.

She complained because of the sudden pressure. “I found it…” Levy replied.

Gajeel loosened his grip. “What?”

She diverted her gaze. “The runes my parents told me on my bed time stories.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashback

A beautiful woman with long wavy blue hair lay beside her little daughter in a wooden bed.

“Mama, please tell me that story again.” The little girl hold the sheets.

All of a sudden a handsome man appeared at the doorframe of the little girl’s bedroom.

“So the princess wants to know how her grandma save all the villagers, again?”

The woman smiled at the black haired man. “She never gets tired of it.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and little Levy ran to him and hugged him. “Pleeeeaseee Papa” Levy’s mother giggled. “Okay sweetie, it’s gonna be short because we are a little tired.”

“Yay!” Levy said happily hugging both of her parents.

Her father started. “When the village was being attack by the enemy’s soldiers-” But he was cut off by Levy’s voice.

“I don’t want to hear the bad part. I want you to start from the part when grandma unlocks the greatest spell hidden in the waterfall cave.” She said the last part with excitement.

“Well, well, look who’s anxious.” Levy’s dad laughed but continued. “Grandma used her amazing skills to decode the runes and the strange language that was written in the cave. Once she unlocked it, power overflow in her body. The amazing speed she possessed gave her the advantage to touch all the bad guys, absorbed their black magic and used it against them. Only the villagers were protected by a shield she used to create in a blink of an eye. The enemy’s soldiers that survived the powerful attacked retreat and returned to the battle field in the other side of the town.”

The woman’s voice continued the story. “After being able to defeat the bad guys, grandma returned to the cave and locked the dark magic she consumed. The fight left her exhausted but when she came back to the village, everyone was cheering for her. They hugged her and claimed her as their hero.” Little Levy was intrigued. “ But that’s it for tonight darling.”

“Awww” Levy was a little disappointed that they always cut the final part of the story.

Her mother ruffled Levy’s hair and said:” I bet, when you grow up, you are going to be the one who unlocks it once again and protect the ones you love.”

Levy’s smiled was from ear to ear. “I’m gonna be a hero like grandma!”

“We are sure of it.” Both of her parents said in unison.

“Now go to sleep sweetie.” They gave her a kiss on the forehead and closed the door behind them.

End of Flashback

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Levy continued. “It was all true…the codification, the language and the spell.”

Gajeel was more confused. “What are ya talkin’ about?”

“This magic…” She covered herself in iron scales.

Gajeel released her immediately. He was stunned. “What the-?!”

She turned back to normal as she explained. “It’s some kind of ancient transfer magic, but the user can use the magic they absorbed whenever he/she likes. They can obtained it by just touching the person and putting all the concentration on the connection port.” She raised her hand and showed Gajeel how a little seed grew to a flower in a matter of seconds.

Gajeel looked intensely at the process. “Isn’t that one of your lapdogs magic?” Levy nodded with a faint smile.

But her smiled fade away quickly. “But my parents never told me why grandma died or never said anything about its biggest side effects…”She paused and sighed. “Neither the runes I translated three years ago.” The flower she was holding turned black and shattered.

Gajeel rubbed the back of his neck. “Side effects?” His voice sounded more worried than expected.

“At first I didn’t understand anything, but it didn’t took me too long to figure out why the runes appeared or what they say.” Gajeel listened to her carefully. “They are a warning.”

“Warning about what exactly? Gajeel asked.

“The first one was…If I make misuse of it, my original magic will be annihilated from me…and I can’t afford to lose my solid script magic.” She created a small word “IRON” and give it to Gajeel. “This was the magic my parents taught me, it’s all that’s left of them in me.” She closed her eyes.

He looked at her worried face and asked. “There is another one, right?”

Levy nodded and looked directly at Gajeel’s red eyes. “I’m dying.” She whispered.

This took Gajeel by surprised and he acted without noticing. He shook his head and placed both of his hands in her cheeks. “Oi! Oi! Oi! What are ya’ saying?” He sounded desperate.

She placed one of her hands in his and continued. “If I use this magic for a long period of time, my life span, is shortened by long strides.”

“For how long have ya’ been using it?” Gajeel asked.

“Oh Gajeel, why do you think I came back?” His eyes widened as he understood her hidden message.

She started crying. “I can die at any moment.” Levy’s voice was quiet.

Gajeel hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear. “You’re not gonna die.”

Levy nuzzled into his chest. “I digged my own grave.” Gajeel held her tighter.

Her words hit him hard. He felt his heart ache but he didn’t know exactly why. He can’t lose her.

Gajeel took Levy by the cheeks and leaned forward. “Levy…” He sighed.

Levy’s eyes watched him as he moved closer. Gajeel moved his right hand to tilt her chin up. The space between them was getting smaller by the second. “I’m not gonna let you…” And with those word their lips met in a warming kiss.

TBC

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lockandk3yfiction · 7 years

Text

Title: Mathematical Equations

Date: June 1, 2017

Commissioned by @unashamed-shipper: Gajevy College AU

Pairing: Gajevy (mentioned Nalu)

Word Count: 1503

Summary: While lost in the Mathematics and Science Building, Levy finds her self colliding with a rather odd looking man. Who knew she would find him more than odd.

Rated: K+

Read on ffn.

Request closed. Commissions open.

“MSC 109. MSC 109. Where is it?”

Murmurs filled the hall as a blue haired young woman strolled through the Mathematics and Science Building (MSC) of Magnolia University. Levy McGarden bowed her head, hazel brown eyes focused on the class schedule in her hands. Every now and then, Levy would lift her eyes to scan the open classrooms, looking for the doorway that read “109” up above it.

This was her first year in a university, studying at one of the most prestigious schools in Fiore. She was hopeful and prepared; enrolled in the necessary classes, taking the proper amount of units, even best friends with her roommate after just a week of moving into the dorms. And, yet, she could not find the one door that led to her calculus class.

“All of these classrooms are in the 300 range,” Levy paused in her steps, looking back on the empty hall as she attempted to process her thoughts. “MSC 109 must be in a different wing then, right?”

Just as she voiced this question, a rather loud metal clang was heard, the sound of a heavy hallway door closing on itself. Such noise frightened the girl, Levy pulling her head back before she met impact with a man almost twice her size. Sprinting through the hall was a fairly tall man, piercings adorning his face and long wild hair flying quickly behind him. With no warning the two bodies clashed, chest meeting forehead as they collided to the floor.

It hurt and it stung, Levy could only see black as she lay on the tile too scared to open her eyes.

“Hey. Hey, you!” A rough tone barked, so close to Levy’s face that she nearly thought she would lose hearing.

“Hey! Are you okay? Say something!” The sound softened a little, worry filling the speakers’ words.

Turning to her side, Levy struggled as she tried to sit up, a calloused hand that wasn’t her own placing itself upon her shoulder to try and steady her movements. Levy’s brows etched together as her eyelids slowly flittered open, vision slightly blurred. It took a moment or two before the nausea of hitting her head settled and she was able to see clearly again.

Before her, still clutching Levy’s shoulder to give support was the same figure that had been running down the hall. Up close he had the face of a delinquent and a scowl that could ward off predators, but the intensity of his stare as he watched Levy with concern made her pulse quicken.

“Oh! Uh, y- ow...”

The man raised a brow as Levy began to rub at the back of her head, scrunching her hair into a small bundle in the process. “Y-yeah… My head hurts a little but I’ll be fine…”

Levy flushed in embarrassment, her gaze elsewhere as the air between them became awkward. The silence was broken though when the man breathed out heavily, rising to his feet and offering a hand towards Levy. A smile formed on her face at the gesture, Levy allowing him to hoist her onto her feet before he had started walking down the hall in less haste. For an instance, Levy stood there, her eyes trailing the man as he further left the hall before a lightbulb went off in her mind.

“Hey, wait! Can you help me find something?!”

After a short walk, Levy found herself seated at a front desk of room 109 of the MSC Building, attention toward the board as the professor went over their syllabus. At the back of the class was the man who had ran into her earlier. He had yet to apologize, but now Levy acknowledge that his name was Gajeel Redfox and he was a second year in the engineering program. In Levy’s mind he seemed like an odd one and while the professor dragged on about late work and how assignments would be graded, Levy’s attention left the classroom and went towards him.

Levy wiggled her toes, a small pout on her lips as she complained to her roommate about how she was a hundred percent certain she got all the question on her last calculus exam correct but had missed one question when they came back graded.

“Ah! I was so close, Lucy!”

Said blonde giggled, leaning her back against the wall. The two sat on the smaller ones bed, chitchatting about this and that as time pass them by. The topics would change frequently as they spoke, giddiness and peacefulness filling the atmosphere as the two friends rambled on.

It was late one Sunday night, three weeks into the fall semester when Lucy received a text from her boyfriend. Natsu had messaged her during the girls’ routine conversation, informing them of Gajeels struggle in math and how Natsu had thought it would be a great opportunity for Levy to help his roommate as they shared the same class. Levy felt her heart racing at the idea; ever since first meeting Gajeel, Levy’s chest would warm at the sight of him and her imagination would attempt to create situations in which they can spend time together and, as of next Tuesday, that time would come.

“Tell Natsu I don’t wanna!” Levy wailed, shaking her head comically as to show her despair.

At this, Lucy sighed. Combing through her hair with her fingers, she mumbled to Levy about help it would give Gajeel and how the two may be able to get to know each other a little better. “It can’t be that bad right? Don’t you like Gajeel?”

Lips pursed in defiance, Levy refused to answer while continuing to scowl at the blue bed sheets beneath her.

The weekend passed. Monday came and gone, leaving Levy kicking her feet in anticipation and tapping at the desk she sat in frustration. The pout on her grew as each minute ticked by, waiting in solemn torture in one of the many group study rooms the library had to offer. More than once, Levy entertained the idea that Gajeel may not show yet, ‘lo and behold, he arrived that Tuesday afternoon on schedule.

“How do you not know basic algebra? Can you even learn calculus if you can’t find the answer to y?”

“Why do you we’re here? I’m asking for help! Don’t make fun of me!”

Gajeel’s expression startled Levy when he spoke. Somehow, he had looked embarrassed, cheeks slightly pink and jaw tense as his chin rested on the study table. Her eyes were open wide in mild wonder as she stared down at Gajeel from her position across from him. He looked like a lost puppy when it came to mathematics but somehow he looked cuter. A shy smile formed on Levy’s lip before she tapped at Gajeel’s forehead for attention.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go over the question again. What are you confused about?”

Their first lesson had gone over smoothly. Sure, Gajeel still did not understand quantum stochastics’ but who did on their first try? It had even taken a toll on Levy as she had tried to explain it the third time, mixing up words and losing her train of thought as numbers scrambled around her brain. What an interesting event that was.

Though, Levy could not say it was all so bad. Gajeel had become someone Levy thinks of fondly, finding his way into her social bubble easily. To finish off their study session, the two had secured their self a booth at the local tea shop where they skipped talk of math and began getting to know each other.

Levy learned that Gajeel was a heavy metal musician. She had also learned he was not that great a singer when he had given her a sold out one person audience concert. Waving her hand before in a nervous sweat, however, it was not as if she were brave enough to say such. They were not much of the same person.

Levy enjoyed books and quiet walks on the beach; whereas Gajeel enjoyed vintage films and listening to music when jogging near the park. Levy had never owned a pet but, surprisingly, Gajeel was a cat person. Levy liked her tea with rosemary and Gajeel preferred black coffee. They were two of the opposite coin, yet still Levy found her chest warming the more she knew. Calculus was her strong suit, but just maybe she wanted to learn the mathematical equations used in chemistry.

Eyes still glued toward Gajeel as he rambled on about the antics he and Natsu shared last night, ordering pizza from the parlor three miles away, hoping it would not arrive in thirty minutes or less, a gleam sparkled in Levy’s eyes. He looked happy, excited and was roaring with energy. Gajeel Redfox really was not a bad guy, she determined, slowly realizing that yes, she did like this guy.

#gajevy #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden #fairy tail #fiction #sierra-sama writes

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smut-camren · 7 years

Text

The Hand That Feeds // Chapter 3

original story http://archiveofourown.org/works/3673911/chapters/8142474

———————————————

Another update. Can you tell I’m bored today? lmao —————————————

“What is it Lucia?” Lauren asked looking at the reflection of Lucy in her vanity set mirror.

Lauren placed her brush down and opened the top drawer to the vanity, taking out bottles of perfume, blush, concealer, and eye-liner. She thoughtfully looked over her choice of lipstick before placing it on top of the vanity.

“I’m sorry to intrude Miss.” Lucy started. “I just- are you sure this is what you should do?”

Lauren watched Lucy enter the room through the mirror. Seeing the tension appear in Lauren’s shoulders caused Lucy to cower for a moment. She knew Lauren hated to be questioned, from a slave the most, and while Lucy was given plenty of pardons due to her status of the house, this was a topic that Lauren drew the line on.

“Forgive me, Miss!” Lucy cried. “I didn’t mean to second guess your choices. I just worry about you.”

Lucy felt a small pool of panic settle in her chest. She knew she had no place to do anything, but please her Mistress. Lauren had never been the type of owner to use her slaves for physical pleasure and enjoyment. Lucy had more value to her.

“What if Master doesn’t agree with this? We have plenty of slaves.” Lucy informed.

“I will tell him I wanted another personal maid. He’s agreed to you and with time he will with another,” Lauren answered. “However, I won’t tell him of my true intentions. He expects you to be my carrier, but unfortunately things aren’t working out.”

Lucy gulped, feeling a ball form in her throat and a fresh flood of tears. Lauren pulled Lucy into a hug. She had every right to say what she deemed necessary, but to see Lucy in a fit of sobs and tears would be too difficult to deal with. Lucy latched on to Lauren’s waist.

“You are still so important to me Lucy.” Lauren whispered, stroking a hand down brown strands. “Don’t you forget or dare question that. You mean so much to me.” She kissed Lucy’s brown hair.

Lucy sniffled, blinking back a tear about to fall. The entire situation was unfair, but what would be the most unfair is to drag Lauren down with her. Lucy nodded and swiped a finger under her nose. Lauren released her.

“We can talk about this later.” Lauren agreed. “I need to get ready.”

“Of course Miss.” Lucy sighed. “I understand.”

Laure gave Lucy one last hug; the light sound of sniffling filling the room.

“Help me get ready.” Lauren requested.

Lucy opened Lauren’s closet, while she continued to apply makeup to her face. They worked in the room in silence.

***

“You’re still not going to talk about it?” Dianh asked, fluffing up her pillow.

Camila pulled the cot away from the wall and picked up Dinah’s sheet. The cot wasn’t that much of a difference from sleeping on the floor, but it wasn’t as cold as the concrete floor. Dinah had no complaints sharing it with her. The additional body heat was appreciated at the times the temperature dropped during the night.

“I’ve told you already Dinah. I don’t have anything to say.” Camila groaned. “Can we go to bed without your bitching for once?”

Dinah let out a huff of discontent and laid down. Camila curled in next to her with the shared sheet over their bodies. She rolled over to see Dinah’s hazel eyes staring at her.

“If you don’t tell me I won’t give you some of the chocolate chip cookies Ryder gave me today.” Dinah threatened.

Camila sighed. She hasn’t had cookies in a year. Dinah grinned watching Camila conflicted about spilling her time with Lauren again because of how badly she wanted those cookies. Dinah yanked the blanket up to her chin when the door to the cell slid open with a sharp grind of screeching metal. Camila watched the shadow of Sebastian in the door way splayed out on the wall.

The romps of his boots were tapping through the silent cell. It stopped after two steps. Camila pressed a finger to her lips as Dinah looked back at her frightened. Sebastian only came into the cell after hours for two reasons, someone made too much noise and should be sleeping or the guards wanted some fun with the girls.

Camila had tried to cover Dinah with her tiny body & hoped he wouldn’t choose her. He had too much fun with newcomers, finding there was a need to expose them to what he referred to as tradition of the brothel.

“Camila!” Sebastian shouted. “Get over here!”

Dinah shivered.

“Roll over and close your eyes.” Camila instructed, before sliding from underneath the blanket.

She stationed herself two steps away from him. He looked her over in annoyance before clamping a collar around her neck. He quickly hooked a leash to it and yanked her out the door. A guard slammed it shut and Dinah sat up terrified.

“I don’t know what she sees in you.” Sebastian spat. “I don’t trust doing this with you, but she insisted and don’t think because I’m not there I won’t find out and send a five man team to catch you.”

Camila watched Sebastian walk passed the stairs leading to the second floor and headed to the front entrance. She felt a tickle of fear in her stomach as she entered unfamiliar ground. Sebastian exited the brothel and Camila spotted a black limo over Sebastian’s shoulder. The passenger door opened from inside and Lucy stepped out.

“Hello Camila.” She greeted. “The Mistress has instructed I pick you up to prepare you for tonight’s events. I’ll handle it from here Mr. Smyth, thank you.”

Sebastian handed over the leash and went back inside. Lucy entered the limo first and helped Camila settle inside. The colorful strobe lights and spacious design of the limo did little to calm Camila’s nerves.

She was going to be on a ride with a person she knew little about other than her name. The slam of the car door brought Camila back to Lucy who had silently removed the collar from Camila’s neck, replacing it with a red collar made of leather covered with diamonds, and on the ring was a tag with the letter C on the plate.

Lucy raked her fingers through Camila’s long hair before taking a brush to try and get out the knots. A bunch of painful strokes later, she managed to get Camila’s hair smooth and presentable. She proceeded to form Camila’s hair into a neat long braid down the center of her back.

Camila had found it strange that Lucy had been meticulous in grooming her without a single word. A weight in the center of her neck drew attention to Camila’s collar where Lucy attached a rich red leash made of polished leather.

“I’ll need your help getting this on.” Lucy instructed, presenting to Camila what she could only describe as a black leather looking diaper.

“What the hell is that?!” Camila growled.

Lucy looked over the strange instrument, with a relaxed demeanor.

“It’s a chastity belt.” Lucy answered. “The Mistress insisted I have you wear it for tonight’s date.”

Camila moved back, glaring between the belt and Lucy. She wanted nothing to do with it. It looked painful and completely uncomfortable. It had no opening and from the sides Camila could make out buckles with a padlock. This item had no intention of giving Camila the right to get herself free.

“Please don’t make me force this on you.” Lucy sighed. “I would hate to disappoint the Mistress too.”

Camila had little say in the choice of clothing, should it be considered an article of clothing in the beginning. She has never seen a design of its kind, and she has been forced to use every toy known to mankind for her clients. She slid over, allowing Lucy to put her leg through the hole.

“I’ll go over the rules when you are attending with the Mistress in public.” Lucy started.

***

Camila was left to sit in the limo, trying to contain herself from spiraling into a fit of panic. She had no information on where she was going, or where Lauren was. Lucy had been stubborn to not reveal anything.

The rules had been simple enough; the usual. Camila was to not make eye-contact, remain silent unless spoken to, remain by Lauren’s side at all times, and be obedient to Lauren’s every command. It gave no clue to what she had in store for her. Lucy’s calm behavior didn’t help.

Camila still couldn’t understand why Lauren wanted a night with her. And while the fact of Lauren’s half-demon lineage still upset Camila it had less of an angry effect like the first time they met. Her lack of a feisty reaction had given Camila little concern. Lauren treated Camila better than all the clients she’s been with before.

Camila’s skin tingled as she remembered the climax Lauren gave her with little effort. A jolt of anxious energy shot into Camila’s leg, causing it to shake. She couldn’t contain how excited she felt at the thought of getting the chance to cum again. For once, she didn’t have to fake it.

Camila watched the limo pull up into the parking lot of an area she has never seen. The majority of the state of Ohio was destroyed. The demons had knocked down most of the human structures, only keeping those of an ancient design and they had a strong liking for Gothic buildings. Whatever landmark they deemed important was rebuild with Gothic architecture.

Of course, churches or anything holy were left to rubble. Not that it bothered Camila. Her generation grew up without a religion, especially since it was illegal. Any building that was completely intact was owned by demons. Humans lived on the streets and if they were lucky in partially erected buildings the demons didn’t find worth completely destroying.

The limo came to a complete stop and Camila could see a line of guest in black shiny leather clothing, waiting to get inside. Camila hesitated to exit. Lucy opened the door.

“I’ll walk you to the club.” Lucy stated. “Come with me.”

The least expected possibility of what this building could be was a club. Camila had little time to think of why a place like that existed as Lucy exited the limo and took a hold of Camila’s leash. The limo door was closed and it drove away, bringing a rush of fear into Camila as she stood in the parking lot completely exposed. It didn’t help that she was wearing the contraption around her waist with a collar and leash that had been too decorative for Camila’s taste.

Lucy walked in front of her without a tremor in her step. She was aware of the eyes on her, but it had no effect on her as it did on Camila. The people in this group were demons, some half-breeds, humans who were without a doubt their pets. Camila had felt so misplaced, but the hungry eyes of the club-goers had seen her as a prized possession made of gold.

“Hi Sam!” Lucy smiled.

The blonde-haired and blue-eyed guard at the door smiled at Lucy. He looked human for the most part, if he didn’t smile that is, because inside his mouth were a row of razor sharp teeth and he had pointed long ears. The color to his skin was a slight tint of red. Camila fought back the reflex to jump when he glanced at her.

“This must be Camila.” Sam noted. “Lauren has been waiting for you. Go on through. She is in her usual room.”

He waved at Lucy as she passed him and Camila tread into the club as if she were walking on eggshells. Sam had been kind, or he had tried, but his appearance had been too unsettling for Camila . The anxiety in her increased when she reached the inside of the club.

The music was deafening, filling Camila’s head with a dull hum and punching bass. It was much too dim, but had some light due to the blinkers on the ceiling. A thick puff of smoke from cigarettes filtered the room. The room was full of demons that proudly showed off their naked pets. Some of the humans had outfits designs to show off their body modifications Camila was sure their owners forced them to wear. The more tame and usual modifications she found in the group were nipple piercings with interesting jewelries, some that even lit up.

A lot of club-goers were adorned in black leather, some in shiny black or red latex, bright make up, and boots with ridiculously tall heels. Camila wondered how the girls wearing them could move around at all. Not a single human was off a leash, but they didn’t seem bothered by it.

Camila was brought upstairs to the balcony of the club and at the end of the floor was a velvet red curtain covering the VIP room of the club. Pulling back the curtain revealed a door and Lucy knocked before opening it.

What Camila saw on the other side made her speechless. Lauren had her back toward Camila, pouring two cups of water from a pitcher. She was wearing a beautifully laced red corset with sheer lace thigh high stockings, red and three inch heels. As she turned around Camila noted the cleavage exposed from the corset and a black ribbon tied into a bow in the front, but what shocked Camila the most was the lack of a mask.

Lauren walked over with a smile and kissed Camila’s cheek, lingering longer than she should have. Camila turned her head eagerly to reach Lauren’s lips, but had a finger pressed to her lips to still her. Camila gulped.

She had been just as beautiful as Dinah described her. Red plush lips, with a rounded face, pale complex with a tint of red in her cheeks, and thick shoulder length black hair. Lauren’s hand cupped Camila’s waist to bring her closer, so that their bodies were together. Camila has seen plenty of half-breeds. Lauren had to be the most human and attractive one Camila had ever seen.

“You have to earn your right for affection.” Lauren grinned. “You look amazing.”

Camila opened her mouth, but found it difficult to form a single word. Lauren laughed before she quickly kissed Camila and pulled at her bottom lip. She gasped.

“Thank you for bringing her here Lucy. I’ve already spoken with Keana about your ride home.” Lauren spoke, keeping her eyes on Camila the entire time.

“Goodnight Miss.” Lucy muttered, exiting.

Camila gulped. She had felt the most exposed with Lauren’s eyes on her. The way her eyes sparkled and darkened as she watched Camila made her body shiver. And while she was a quivering mess what confused her the most was how badly she wanted Lauren to touch her.

“I can still smell you.” Lauren noted. “Even through this.” She pointed to the belt surrounding Camila’s hips.

The room became ten degrees hotter. Camila’s mind was a mess, she wanted to keep her tough exterior up because at the end of the night she would end up back in the brothel and she would still remain a worthless whore. But right now all Camila wanted was to have sex with Lauren and that feeling was a whole different experience of its own for Camila .

Camila gulped. “I…reflex.”

Lauren’s brow rose to such a honest statement. The way she smiled gave Camila some relief to see she had said something less offensive.

“Give me your wrist.” Lauren gently said.

Without a single thought, Camila lifted her arm. Lauren slipped a blue band on to her wrist. She kept her hand on Camila’s palm, rubbing her thumb along the back of the Latina’s hand. The small contact of skin was enough to take a little edge off.

“Now everyone will know I don’t want to share you.” Lauren spoke proudly.

“Uh – where are we?” Camila asked.

Lauren led Camila the couch where she offered her a cup of water. The sip had done little to calm her nervous. Lauren moved over to be sitting close to Camila’s side. A hand rested on Camila’s thigh, but remained still.

“We’re in a BDSM club.” Lauren answered.

Camila jumped. “W-What?”

Lauren firmly squeezed Camila’s thigh; a finger starting the soft trail of circular patterns just above Camila’s knee to sooth her. Lauren kissed Camila’s cheek, bringing her attention back to her face.

“Relax.” Lauren hushed. “You’re safe here. Keana has very strict rules.”

“Who?” Camila questioned.

She nearly forgot she asked as Lauren’s lips drew closer to her own. Instead of pressing their lips together, however, Lauren decided to kiss Camila’s neck. A finger brushed over the front of the chastity belt and Camila cursed the thing for getting in the way of her contact with Lauren’s hand. The memory of how she got her to be a whining mess with just a few strokes of her clit made Camila flinch and whimper.

“She’s the one who owns this club with her boyfriend, Samuel. You’ve met him. They’re both an old family friend.” Lauren answered. “She’s very nice. She isn’t like most demons. She treats the slaves with respect. I’ve learned a lot from her.”

Camila looked Lauren over and scooted back, a tic of repulsion springing her body into action. The anxious feelings that had come earlier in the car returned with a much stronger urge.

“Is this what you’re into?” Camila asked.

“Yes, but we won’t be doing anything tonight. It’s much too soon.” Lauren informed.

Camila was startled. Lauren had been honest in her response with the same calm expression. Camila had a difficult time letting Lauren’s answer sink in. The evidence was clear. She had seen for herself what the club held. She’s heard of these clubs, but as far as she knew it was just rumors because a club in general usually wouldn’t interest a demon.

But if it brought in money it would bound to bring around someone who was willing to get into this business. Camila wouldn’t have expected Lauren to have such an interest in this type of night life.

“What?” Camila scoffed. “Then what is this for?”

“It will serve its purpose soon.” Lauren assured. “I am not going to subject you to anything extreme. I need your complete trust and willingness for that.”

Camila glared. Did it mean that Lauren was certain Camila would give into her? Camila had no intention of being obedient. She trusted no demon, half-breed or not and humans, aside from Dinah, Camila had no one else to trust.

“Stop making me feel like I matter.” Camila hissed.

Lauren showed no anger. She held a sympathetic face. It further angered Camila.

“But you do matter.” Lauren stated. “You matter to me. Why else would I bring you here? I wanted to show you more about myself.”

Lauren closed the gap between them and put a hand to the back of Camila’s head. She kissed Camila’s forehead before moving to the corner of her mouth. She can hear the rapid beat of Camila’s heart. Lauren noticed even the tiniest tremor in Camila’s bottom lip.

“Tell me about you?” Lauren asked. “Were you born a slave?”

It had been such a neutral toned questioned, with not a single trace of malice in it. Lauren had no intention of belittling Camila. She had genuine curiosity. Camila had still been sour about her predicament.

Camila broke their contact apart and paced around the room. She hated it here. It was too quiet. The room was too small. She could hear her thoughts and her instincts screaming at her to get away. She shouldn’t trust Lauren. She shouldn’t trust a demon. That was the logical part of her speaking. She knew how dangerous demons are. Camila’s seen them. She turned around, trying to mask her tears with anger.

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Lauren snapped.

“That’s right.” Lauren agreed. “Whatever happens in this room will remain between us and whatever does happen is because you wanted it.”

Lauren carefully got to her feet, slowly putting her arms around Camila’s stomach. The hold was loose; lacking the strength Camila knew Lauren had. Lauren kissed the base of Camila’s neck.

“Call me stupid, but I find you fascinating.” Lauren chuckled. “Do you know what I want from you?”

“For me to be your faithful and mindless puppet!” Camila spat, in rage.

Lauren ran her nose along the length of Camila’s neck. “For you to willingly submit yourself to me not out of fear, but admiration and love, while in return you can be given something so rich nothing else can compare, and you have not the slightest idea what it is yet.”

Camila gulped. Lauren placed her thumb against Camila’s stomach moving it in a soft circular motion. The kiss from her neck moved to her shoulder and the space between her shoulder blades. The touches had been so tender with a sense of concern, as if Lauren had been trying to rid Camila of her internal wounds and heal them. Years of pain and hatred washing away and it scared Camila.

“I am giving you the life none of my kind is expected to ever give a mere slave.” Lauren explained. “Do you know why I wanted you?”

Camila didn’t trust herself to speak without a tremor in her voice and shook her head.

“You have everything I need.” Lauren answered. She pressed her nose into Camila’s neck and inhaled. “While you may physically have nothing to give, I see such high value in you, but you are not ready to know what it is until you’ve given me your trust.” A kiss landed on to her neck. “Underneath this marred skin, you smell divine. You can give me what I seek and in return I can give you the peace and happiness you deserve.”

Releasing Camila, Lauren looked over her exposed body. The stare hadn’t been primal or vicious, but rather tender and enchanted. Camila shivered. Lauren pressed a hand to Camila’s face and placed another down her back, going over every scar she could find three times before clasping onto Camila’s hips.

“Such an attractive and supple body,” Lauren commented. “There is potential and these scars do nothing to devalue you.”

A small whimper came from her mouth. That had been enough for Lauren to spring forward and pull Camila into a kiss. It took every ounce of power in Lauren to keep the kiss short and light as she wanted more than anything to put Camila on that couch and watch her moan until she came. Lauren had been the one to end the kiss and she needed a second to gain her control before looking back into brown chocolate eyes.

Camila’s heart was racing. The feeling back at the party was no comparison to what she was feeling now. Her face burned as if she broke into a sudden fever and her legs were so weak, she was sure she’d fall to the floor any second now. She wrapped her arms around Lauren’s neck for balance.

“I grew up on the streets. My family lost their house in the raids when everything crashed. I was just a toddler.” Camila admitted.

“I’m sorry that happened.” Lauren apologized. “Demons had always been cruel things.”

Camila felt tears build at the brim of her eye lids. She hated everything here. She hated the change of new world order and how useless humans were. They had no worthy value to them and living the life of a pet was not something Camila wanted, but it was turning out that way with Lauren around.

“They were drug dealers.” Camila sscoffed. “The demons were drug dealers and I thought they were okay at the time because they gave my dad a job. It gave us food to last the week. I didn’t grow up starving.”

With little resistance the tears dripped down Camila’s face and she violently wiped them away. She hated crying, she hated showing weakness to anyone, especially a demon, but these feelings were things Camila had refused herself to feel since the day she was brought to the brothel.

“My dad got attacked while he was delivering the drugs and lost everything. The dealers demanded he pay it all back with interest. Those greedy sons of bitches!” Camila spat. “That changed everything! My dad had to work harder. I helped him deliver more drugs to different people. Then mom died because she got sick from the stress. She was old.” Camila wiped away a few more tears. “We couldn’t afford the medicine! It was the flu. We should have saved her! We could have done something, but we had nothing.”

Camila’s teeth grind together with a scowl on her face. The memory of her dad did nothing but leave a bitter memory in comparison to her mother.

“That’s how I ended up here. My dad couldn’t handle mom’s death and he couldn’t handle raising me alone. So he sold me to a brothel at 17. It would pay off all is debt. I’ve never forgiven him for that.” Camila glared.

Lauren’s arm tied around her waist, pulling Camila closer to her side where their hips touched. The contact was nearly enough to ease all of Camila’s tension and cease her anger. Lauren kissed her forehead.

Camila gulped as the kiss moved to her neck. She couldn’t stop the moan that erupted past her lips as Lauren kissed her left breast and ran the tip of her tongue over the nipple. Lauren chuckled and kissed Camila’s chin. She whimpered. Lauren led them back to the couch, laying Camila on her back and wedged herself between her legs.

The blood in Camila’s beating chest rushed to her head, drowning her in the blissful feeling of Lauren’s hand stroking her thigh. Lauren placed her hands beside Camila’s head and pressed her center against her thigh. She groaned at the touch of hot liquid, smearing her skin.

“Look at you.” Lauren panted. “So beautiful.”

She dipped down, giving Camila a searing kiss that left her knees weak. She opened her mouth to feel Lauren’s tongue swiftly brush against the roof of her mouth and playfully tug at her bottom lip. Camila stared into blazing green eyes before shifting back to Lauren’s red and plush lips.

Lauren sat up, retrieving a small key from the table top and unlocked the padlock to Camila’s chastity belt. It was removed and Lauren moved Camila’s legs to have them bent and the back of her feet grazing the back of her thighs.

“Do you trust me?” Lauren asked.

She noticed the flinch in Camila’s legs. Lauren reached down, kissing Camila’s left knee lovingly before she kissed the right one. Camila couldn’t figure out if she wanted to say yes because she wanted to get off because she was so horny, or because she really did trust Lauren. Both would be ridiculous, Lauren was a demon. Camila had no reason to be this turned on. She especially had no reason to trust her. She gulped.

“Yes.” Camila exhaled.

Lauren grinned. She took a hold of Camila’s hand and kissed each tip of her fingers before positioning it between Camila’s legs.

“Touch yourself.” Lauren ordered.

“W-What?” Camila whimpered.

“Have you never done it before?” Lauren asked.

Flustered and embarrassed Camila shook her head no. She had no reason to masturbate. She grew up on the streets. The only concern she had as a kid was staying alive and trying not to end up getting raped. And of all the people she’s been with at the brothel, none of them cared to see her rub one out. It wasn’t a needed skill or behavior.

“Shame.” Lauren sighed. “It feels really good right about here.”

She directed Camila’s finger to her clit and rubbed it firmly. Camila gasped. Seeing the amount of clear fluid from her center, Lauren took Camila’s middle and ring finger and pushed it inside. Camila cried out as her fingers easily slipped through the folds down to the knuckles on her palm.

Camila started a steady push and pull of her fingers as they pulled down and curled once they went back inside. Lauren sat back, watching between the movement of Camila’s hand and her facial expressions. She let out a loud cry as her fingers swiveled inside and she pressed her thumb against her clit.

In less than five minutes, Camila found herself covered in a sheet of sweat and near climax. Lauren moved in closer, keeping her eyes on Camila’s hand and she let out a cry just as she came. A thread of clear fluid shot out, puddling on the couch and Camila lay back out of breath and motionless.

Lauren smiled, kissing Camila’s knee and brushing back brunette strands of hair from her sticky face. She had to help Camila sit back up and gave her a cup of water to cool her down. Camila leaned over, seeking Lauren’s lips for a sweet and soft kiss.

“Can you stand?” Lauren asked.

Camila took a hold of Lauren’s wrist and they stood together with the help of Lauren’s support.

“Let me show you around the club.” Lauren stated.

“What about -”

“We don’t need it anymore.” Lauren assured. She could sense Camila’s uneasiness. “As long as you have the wristband you’re safe.”

Lauren put Camila’s leash back on and put an arm around her waist.

“Do you still trust me?” Lauren questioned.

“Yes.” Camila answered without hesitation.

Lauren smiled and led them out of the room.

#lauren g!p #series #update #submission #the hand that feeds

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