#//Hes gone now but I have a suspicion he might come back tomorrow and I just

[andromeda-pleiades]

Just Trust Me

WORD COUNT: 1,028

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

I've written the second part, but I want to break this into 3 parts. So the second will come out at night or tomorrow.

Part 1 | Part - 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Maybe you shouldn’t have dated Simon.

Lord knows he isn’t the most stable man. Between the night terrors and the need for constant reassurance that you love him, he was the poster child for red flags. But red flags are easier to ignore when they’re wrapped in soft smiles and strong arms, aren’t they?

So, it comes as no surprise when you notice an app you don’t recognize on your phone.

It sits there innocently enough, nestled between your email and social media apps, but you’ve never seen it before. The icon—a blank, generic symbol—seems deliberately nondescript, almost as if it’s trying too hard not to stand out.

Your thumb hovers over the screen.

The moment you tap it, a prompt appears: Enter Password.

Your stomach twists.

Jesus Christ, Simon. What do you think I’m doing?

You don’t need to be a tech expert to figure it out: the app is meant to spy on you. What it’s monitoring—your location, your texts, your app history—is the only mystery.

Deleting it would be the logical move, but that’s not an option. Simon would notice. He notices everything. And you know he could win an Olympic gold medal in jumping to conclusions.

So, what to do?

You close the app and lock your phone, your heart pounding. Maybe you’re being paranoid. Maybe it’s just a weird app you forgot you downloaded. Or maybe Simon has taken his possessiveness to a new level.

You decide to get out of the house.

The local sandwich shop isn’t much—a fluorescent-lit counter, a couple of mismatched tables—but it’s familiar, and more importantly, it’s public. Simon hates crowded places; the noise and chaos set him on edge. This is one of the few spots you feel like you can breathe.

You’re halfway through your order when someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey, long time no see.”

You turn to find Kyle. His easy smile and warm eyes are a stark contrast to Simon’s calculated demeanor. Kyle was a friend from years ago—before Simon, before everything. You’d lost touch, but here he is, as if no time has passed.

“Kyle? Wow, it’s been ages,” you say, surprised at how natural it feels to smile back.

“You look great,” he says, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “How’ve you been?”

You chat for a few minutes, the kind of light, easy conversation you’ve forgotten you’re capable of having. It’s a rare moment of normalcy—until Kyle glances at his watch.

“I’d love to catch up more, but I’ve got to run. Let’s not make this the last time we bump into each other, okay?”

“Sure,” you say, though the odds of reconnecting feel slim.

Kyle gives you a quick hug, his hand lingering lightly on your back, then heads for the door.

You smile to yourself, picking up your tray, when it hits you—your phone and wallet are gone.

Your heart drops. Frantically, you pat your pockets, rummage through your bag, even check under the table. Nothing.

Panic tightens your chest. Did I drop them? Did someone take them?

A man wirh the most ridiculous haircut brushes past you on his way out. You lock onto him, suspicion flaring, but he’s already gone.

Kyle’s gone. The phone’s gone.

The app. You didn’t delete it. You couldn't. That stupid app, the one Simon uses to track you—how much did he see? Was he checking on you now? Was it only a matter of time before you realized it was gone too?

And now, with your phone gone, you have no way of knowing what Simon might already know. No way of tracking where your phone is. No way of knowing if Simon has access to everything you’ve done. You clench your fists.

You need to get it back.

You stand frozen for a moment in the middle of the sandwich shop, still processing the absence of your phone and wallet. You glance at the door, trying to make sense of what just happened. Kyle is long gone, slipping out into the busy street, leaving you standing there, uncertain of what to do next.

A feeling of panic gnaws at you, but you push it down, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. It’s just a phone. You’ll find it, or you’ll figure something else out.

But when you check your wallet again, your heart sinks. It’s the second thing gone.

Your fingers tremble as you gather your things, scanning the floor one more time, but it’s no use. Your things are gone, and there's no point in standing here any longer. The unease creeps back in. What now?

You step out of the sandwich shop, pulling your coat tighter around you. The cold air does little to calm your nerves.

You don’t bother checking your watch or asking around. The last thing you need is attention right now. Instead, you slip your hand into your bag, fingers brushing the empty spot where your phone should be. Panic rises again.

Just as you’re about to walk down the street, hoping to retrace your steps, the sound of a car engine pulls you from your thoughts.

Simon’s car rolls up beside you, the headlights cutting through the dusk. The car slows as he rolls down the window.

"You alright?" he asks, his voice steady, though there’s something about it that feels too calm, too neutral.

You glance at the car, his face hard to read in the dim light. How did he know to come get me?

"Yeah," you manage to say, forcing a smile. "Just... was gonna walk."

He doesn’t press, just gives a small nod, the car idling in front of you.

“Get in,” he says. His tone is casual, but you catch that sharpness in his voice, the one that makes you hesitate for a split second before getting in.

You slide into the passenger seat, the warmth of the car a stark contrast to the cold air outside. Simon doesn’t say anything else, and neither do you. The silence feels heavy as you pull away, but your mind keeps circling back to one question: How did he know?

[flamingpudding]

Part 9 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

>>Masterpost

<<1 Previous Next

Pit Demons aren't pets, now stop biting!

Jason sighed as he pulled into the bat cave with his bike. This was the third day in a row now that he was coming back into the Manor now and most likely stayed over again. Steph and Cass were due back from her mission today and Jason knew Alfred was preparing for the Family dinner that was going to happen either today or tomorrow.

Depending if Dick could finally gets Bruce out of his office.

It didn't really matter to Jason though. He was just here to… well he didn't know either but he knew that he was trying to keep an eye out for the little biter. Even if he had to deal with Timber being frustratingly annoying with the whole ghost cult thing.

So what if he could read what they claim to be squiggles. Not that he could prove otherwise, because all he saw was perfectly readable letters. Thankfully he had gotten Tim off his back for some time as he went to deal with something in Crime Alley.

He checked the group chat and scowled.

Apparently the entire Manor was in a state of chaos and Demon Brat was dragging Duke around the entire manor to have him use ghost vision to find the little shit. Not that it was helping since the last update was from 15 minutes ago and apparently the light path Duke had followed ran into a wall.

He looked over to the Batcomputer to find Tim going through the security footage. The other hadn't even so much spared Jason a glance so far too focused on trying to find how the kid could have disappeared from Damian's room without any of them noticing. Alfred and Demon Brat had put down the kid for a nap in Damian's room despite having a room prepared for the little biter and when Damian checked on the kid after doing his school work he found the kid gone.

"Still nothing on the kid?"

"Nothing, it's like the kid vanished into thin air. Not even the sensors in Damian's room picked anything strange up that could hint at his disappearance."

"I still have bite marks, so he definitely was not a mass hallucination."

Tim glared at Jason and the elder only shrugged. It was probably a bit to soon for that kind of joke. But his brothers weren't the only ones worried.

He wasn't even sure if Bruce knew, considering the last he heard was Dick and the old man having a 'talk' again. Dick was probably leaving the search to them for the moment to deal with whatever problem B was having right now.

"Think someone kidnapped the kid?"

"No. Aside from us, and probably the LoA, no one should know about Danny. The League taking him back wouldn't make sense. Besides why would anyone attempt to kidnap him from the Wayne Manor of all places? Gotham's Kidnappers might be dumb but not that dumb."

Jason sagely nodded in agreement. There was something tugging at the back of his mind but he couldn't explain what. It was like on the first day he had brought the little biter to the batcave. Over his shoulder he glanced into the direction his mind -no, the pit was urging him to go.

The pit had been strangely quiet and subdued ever since he met the kid. Protective of the biter at times but he despite the way Timber had annoyed and pestered him previously, he had not felt his own annoyance swing over into that uncontrollable rage.

There was a suspicion, a working theory. Something he wasn't yet willing to share with the rest of the family, despite the fact that he was sure that they had also noticed. It was a glaring fact that he was staying with them in the Manor despite Bruce being there too.

But until there was more confirmation Jason wasn't going to mention any of his suspicions, not if they could possibly endanger a little kid.

Because if he was right then the little biter was brought back way different than him and could also have some Pit controlling powers. The way his own mental Pit reacted to the boy was most likely proof but also what the other had found out so far. Lazarus water was fucking affecting the kids DNA.

It didn't help that Replacement had mentioned a suspicion that the League had most likely experimented with the kid and the Lazarus water judging by the scars they had discovered.

Someone might have deemed the kid a failure at first or the kid had escaped and somehow found his way to Jason's apartment with him probably being the closest thing to what the kid was.

Maybe the kid could sense him the way he could with his Pit. Shaking his head out of these thoughts Jason focused back at the problem at hand.

"I will check with Alfie, see if he knows any more hiding spaces kids would love to use." He patted his younger brother's shoulder only getting a grumble as answer before turning and going towards the elevators.

But before he could enter he once more glanced at the direction the pit was urging him to go. Hesitating, he looked back towards Timber and then the elevator.

"Fuck it." He muttered and decided to trust that stupid pit instinct or whatever that was, though with a threat in his stomach that once more just like the first time when they had searched through the cave to find the kid, the pit was leading him towards the Lazarus Pit.

Once he realized where he was going he stopped. "I should just fucking get Replacement or Demon Brat to check there." Muttering to himself he stared at the direction he was heading towards. When he found the little shit there before the kid had jumped him, chomping down on his arms.

The kid had only led go of him after he spat out green fucking Lazarus Water. Like what the actual fuck? Jason had pushed that experience as far out of his mind as he could but he was remembering it now again. It had been worrisome but they had chalked that up to the kids' contamination.

But now? Now that the pit in his mind was urging him to go there again? He couldn't help but think that there was more to it. Maybe his own dip in the pit had something to do with the little shits obsession with him?

Letting out a sigh he was ready to turn on his heel and get one of the others to check this area when he suddenly heard childlike laughter. "You are shitting me…"

With a scowl he marched towards the Lazarus Pit only to stop in his tracks the moment it came into view.

The little biter was sitting on the ground by the Pit as green glowing blobby orbs floated around the boy. The boy was poking them saying something, he couldn't really hear from this distance and then laughed. There was a light in his blue eyes that Jason hadn't seen before, a happiness even. It would be a really cute image of the kid playing with some green blobby orbs, if these things weren't probably some sort of dangerous Pit Demons.

Fuck what was he going to do now? If they were dangerous and he startled them the little shit could end up in real danger. So far they hadn't noticed him.

Grumbling while keeping an eye on the laughing boy, he sent a quick message into the chat telling the others little biter was in the batcave by the Lazarus pit. He knew the moment Tim saw the message he would come running, same with Demon Brat.

Despite knowing that was not a cute moment but dangerous, he snapped a picture anyway. Just for the record and to make sure he wasn't hallucinating or something. Because the kid was actually laughing, not hissing, not blankly staring, glaring or watching one of them but actually laughing like a kid his age with a shine in his eyes he hadn't seen before.

Demon Brat can thank him later for that picture, if Jason decides to share it with the others that was.

Echoing steps could be heard behind him and just like he predicted his brothers came running. The kid's laughter instantly stopped when he heard it too and his head snapped towards Jason, eyeing him warily. One of his hands was still stretched out towards one of the blobs, probably to pet it, but had stopped midway.

It was weird how the blobs were also now turning towards him and sort of looked displeased? Were these demons upset that they made the kid stop showering them in affection?

"Danyal!" Damn were they fast if they wanted to. Rushing past him their formerly youngest kneeled by his younger twins side patting the kid down and checking them over. Jason narrowed his eyes. Did Damian not notice the green glowing orbs that were all around the kid?

"So he was here the entire time?!" Timber asked the moment he coughed up, baffled. "How did we miss that?"

"Hey Replacement?" He had to ask, like come on, he couldn't be the only one seeing these green blobby orbs floating around the little biter and now the Demon Brat.

"Do you see-"

"What are these green blobs?"

Duke appeared next to them, clearly worried. Well that at least spared him having to ask that himself. From the corner of his eyes he watched how Tim blinked confused then rubbed his eyes like he was noticing them for the first time.

"Are those?"

"Small Pit Demons." Demon Brat answered them casually, waving one of them away when it got too close to his face. "They used to be around Grandfather's Lazarus Pit all the time. They seem to appear where Pits are and are harmless if you leave them be."

"Wait, you know about them?"

"Of course. They usually stay out of sight but it was not unusual to get a glimpse of them every now and then. Danyal used to point them out when we were younger. I am surprised that none of you ever noticed them before."

"Demon Brat, are you fucking kidding me? We got literally Pid Demons in the Batcave?!" They had fucking Pit Demons in the Batcave because of the Lazarus Pit and the damned brat didn't bother to tell them? What the fuck?

"Blob Ghosts! Not Demons!" The little biter piped up and Jason turned to stare at the kid not quite in disbelief but really? That was what the kid cared about, what they called these things?

"I don't fucking care what they are called. They still come for the fucking pit"

"Uhm…" Oh right all they hear from the kid is chirping or thrilling noises.

"What did Danyal call them?"

"Blob Ghosts."

"Blob Ghosts…" Before he knew it Tim was gone, nose deep in the weird ghost cult book muttering something about a connection between the Pits and that cult. Was he seriously carrying that book around everywhere now?

"Dami, can we keep-"

"No." Where were Dick and Bruce or maybe even Alfred? He did not want to act as the responsible eldest here. Helping Demon Brat sneaking various animals into the Manor to annoy Bruce was one thing but keeping fucking Pit Demons? Hell normally he would be all for it but fuck did he not want to deal with anything that came for the fucking Pits. Nope, this was not his kind of deal.

Apparently the kid didn't like his instant refusal as all he heard was a hiss in warning, followed by the simple command of "Smother him!"

His vision was swarmed with green and not the kind of green that happens when Pit Rage took over. No it was the kind where a lot of green glowing blobby orbs decide to swarm you. He swatted at them like they were flies, sometimes it worked, sometimes he noticed how his hand would go right through them without effect.

"Get the fuck away from me!"

"Danyal!" He could hear Demon Brats scowling tone but he didn't know what it was about until a second later he felt a weight hitting his chest knocking him over.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! GET FUCKING OFF ME!"

There was another hiss and a pain, he was getting familiar with, bloosemed in his right forearm and in between the green blobs he got a glimps of the little shit biting down on is arm a-fucking-gain. Though the kids eyes were blue he could still see a green flickering in them.

"Oh for the love of… Danyal! I told you to stop biting them!"

"Shouldn't we be more concerned about the Pit Demons attacking Jason?"

"Todd will be fine as I said they are harmless. Danyal, I said get off him this instant or I will tell Pennyworth to withhold your snacks."

"I feel like priorities aren't set right here…"

Despite his doubts… Duke still took a picture of the chaos to share with the others later. Dick surely would get a good laugh out of whatever this was.

[loganwritesprobably]

I Can't Do This Anymore

Inspired by some chatting about Shanks I was doing with @fanaticsnail and @maritimebird

Content/Warnings: Shanks/GN!Reader, breaking up, arguing, hurt/no comfort, Shanks is characterised as a bad guy/ kind of toxic

Four years. Four entire years of your life dedicated to Red Haired Shanks. He was globally revered and respected, considered one of the strongest of a generation, a real contender for Pirate King as an apprentice and honorary son of Gol D. Roger. He was also a scumbag. It seemed like you were the only person who knew that, though, and frankly you were ashamed it'd taken you this long.

You'd woken up today feeling stronger than you had in ages, and when you sat for breakfast alone once again, you knew it was over. You were already gone, you'd emotionally left your partnership months ago, you'd just been hanging on for the sake of nostalgia, because of the man he'd been at first, who you'd wanted him to be. Who he hadn't been in a long time. Plus, you were finally coming up on an island and the Red Force would be docking, so you'd be able to completely leave Shanks, the ship and the crew. A clean break.

He wouldn't wake up for hours, you knew that now. No matter how many times you'd told him it would be nice to spend the morning together, to be quietly present for each other when you first woke up, he never stirred til after noon. It was because of his drinking of course, and you knew that, but he wouldn't cut back on that either. Why would he do that?

You left the kitchen before Lucky had even finished preparing breakfast with just a slice of toast in hand. You didn't feel like food this morning.

You sat on the deck with Beckman while he smoked, and you explained to him what you were about to do. He accepted it, had even seen it coming, and agreed to help you leave without Shanks clinging on or lingering on the island to try to make you come back.

When Shanks finally emerged after lunch had already been served, you headed to take a shower while Yassop and Hongo helped to pack up your stuff from Shanks' room, wanting to cause as little suspicion as possible.

Freshly washed, in the perfect outfit for the occasion which made you feel confident, you returned to the deck. Shanks sat with Beck, one smoking and the other drinking, idle chatter occasionally passing between them.

"Shanks, I need to talk to you." You said, interrupting whatever they'd been speaking about. "Sorry doll, I was just chatting with Beck, can you give me ten mi-" "No. I can't. This is more important." You said, voice firm, expression stony. "Oh c'mon just a few-" "No Shanks. Not this time. We can have this conversation here and now if you really want, I don't care, but it might be better for your ego to go somewhere more private." You said, and Benn awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly wishing he was anywhere but there. "Go on then, gorgeous, what's up?" He asked, taking zero regard for your serious tone or the look on your face. Of course he didn't, nothing ruffled the feathers of Red Haired Shanks.

"You are, you overgrown child," you hissed, surprised as the words came out of your mouth, you'd been intending on separating peacefully but clearly that wasn't going to be happening, "I am sick of you, and your bullshit Shanks! This? Us? It's over, I'm done. I'm getting off at the next island, and I'm not coming back." Shanks paused, looking temporarily confused, before a smile came back over his face and it made your blood boil. "Oh c'mon, is this cause I missed breakfast? You know I try, I just don't do mornings. I'll try again tomorrow." You'd never wanted to strike someone more. "I don't know why I bothered even trying to have a conversation - I can't even have a damn argument with you! I'm fucking leaving, you cannot grin and laugh your way through or away from that. I'm leaving this ship, this crew - I'm leaving you." You couldn't stop your anger from pouring out in your words, your hands slightly trembling from the rage coursing through you. "That feels like a bit of a rush decision, love, are you sure you've really thought about that?" Shanks replied, now looking concerned for you, as if you were experiencing some sort of meltdown.

"Oh- I've never been so fucking angry. Rush? I've been planning on leaving you for months! I'm so tired of the way you treat me, Shanks. You treat me like I - and frankly like nothing else - matters! You can't just laugh and shrug all your problems away, and ignore my attempts to communicate and tell you when there's a problem in our relationship. I have dedicated four years of my life to you, and most of those years were spent being delusional and convincing myself that it wasn't that bad, and I just had to remember how could things could be. But they never went back to being that good. I'm not even sure they were that good to begin with, you just charmed me with your words." It was a lot to scream at someone in public, knowing the crew had all stopped what they were doing to listen to you, to witness what would happen when you raised your voice at the Captain like that. "There's no need to yell doll, c'mon. This should be private." You couldn't believe him. A wave of unstable, humourless laughter overcame you that you couldn't help releasing, and Benn eyed you warily. "Oh you are so lucky you're stronger than me, because if I thought I had any sort of chance, I'd attack you." You told him, still laughing just a little. It was a cruel sort of power imbalance between you really. "Is that a threat?" Shanks asked, and you pinched the bridge of your nose, the humour passing and being replaced by just.. exhaustion.

"Benn, my stuff is all packed, I'm going to go sit with it until we dock and then I'm gone." You said to the first mate before turning on your heel to walk away. "Where are you going? Are you seriously just walking away from me like that?" Shanks yelled after you, standing from his chair. "Yes! That's exactly what I just told you I was doing!" You replied, but you didn't turn to look back at him, just continued on your way.

When you docked, Shanks appeared to have disappeared. You hauled your stuff from the ship, and hugged the crew goodbye. It wasn't fair that you'd lose your friends just because you'd split with Shanks, but that was just the way of things. They were his men, not yours. You sat on top of a crate, rubbing hands over your face as you shoved down the rising tide of emotion in your chest.

"Hey," Benn said, stepping up to stand beside you, "if you ever need anything.. I mean it anything, just call." He said, handing you two pieces of paper. One piece held the number for his den den, while the other was blank - his vivre card. "Thank you." You said emphatically, and then he walked away, back to the crew.

You sat there, just observing, as the crew ran to quickly board their ship with their small restock, and undocked from the port, Shanks stood on the deck observing you.

The red force sailed away, and you heaved a deep sigh of relief. You finally felt like you could breathe again.

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

[leonawriter]

[Fic now on AO3]

Akechi who, after everything and while he's still figuring himself out before having left the place he'd been taking refuge again, comes across a girl who keeps... staring at him.

At first he's certain that she recognises him from his Detective Prince days, along with the sneaking - and aggravating - suspicion that she still idolises him, let alone the thought of having to deal with someone who's crushing on some imaginary ideal of him that never existed.

Still, he can't exactly tell her to get lost, can he? It'd be rude. And she's either here as a customer, or because she or someone she's connected to needs help, and... being rude to someone like that would be worse. So he tries to put on the old polite smile when she's around, and in a sense it works. Sort of. In that she stammers and runs away.

After a couple of weeks of this, she catches him off guard in a moment when he's not in a fit state to deal with this - he's tired, he misses home (what does he even mean by that? Tokyo? Or- Leblanc?) and his psychosomatic pain from having been shot in the Metaverse (or just having the memory of it) is acting up again.

He snaps at her, and this time when she runs he can tell that she's spooked. More skittish than shy in front of an idol.

He worries after that, that it's going to get back to the staff - the people who took him in when he had nowhere to go - and they're going to tell him off, or worse still tell him that he can't work here if he's going to treat the customers like that, and he can't stay here if he isn't working-

He's spiralling. He knows that. The uncertainty (about what's going to happen next, about what he's going to do next, whether that's tomorrow or in a few weeks' time or about his future or about Akira) is the worst thing, he realises.

The next day when he sees her again, he tries to put on an apologetic smile, figure out what sort of things would get him back into her good graces, scrambling for an idea, anything at all, when-

She apologises to him.

She apologises for having hovered over him and stared at him so often, and for not being able to say anything to him, and for still doing so even when she could see he wasn't in a good mood.

It's while he's still dumbstruck from this that she tells him that she's always looked up to him. And before he can say anything to that, she clarifies - it isn't just because of how he'd been on TV.

"I remember you," she says, in a mumbled rush, "from elementary. You probably don't remember, but- there was this one time, and... you proved I wasn't lying. Even if no one else cared or listened, you- and when I saw you on TV, I thought, that if you could do it, if you could make it like that... then I could, too."

Her words take a few moments to settle in. When they do, they make the place in his heart where he knows Hereward lies waiting for the next time the Metaverse rears its head, and the part of Hereward that was once Robin Hood, grow warm.

She was right. He barely remembered that at all, other than as a faint sense resentment at nothing having been worth anything in the end.

But- here she was. Telling him that she'd taken courage in him.

If she knew what it'd taken to get to where he'd been, if she knew how much of a lie it had all been, would she still look at him that way?

In the end, it didn't matter, she didn't need to know, and lies were Loki's trade, both for good and for ill.

He said none of it.

"And? Did you? Do whatever it was that you wanted to do, I mean."

She smiles, small and faint.

"Not yet," she says, quietly. "But I haven't given up, either."

He watches her leave, and a few days later she's gone for good, back home or wherever it was that she'd gone off to that wasn't any of his business.

Something about her made him realise, even just somewhat, that the masks he'd worn may not have been honest, and he might not have been a good person or anywhere near, but he hadn't known her, hadn't remembered her, and she'd still seen something worthwhile in him, in spite of knowing where he'd come from.

Well? That voice inside of him said, as he stared at the TV screen as the news reels went by, Have you done what you wanted to do?

He can't help but admit that he hasn't. But at the same time, his priorities have shifted. He's accomplished more of what he's proud of in the past few months than he ever had in the years he'd spent planning his revenge against Shido, and acting it out while planting the puppet strings on his own body.

And he hasn't given up on his future yet, either. He has plans - even if he isn't sure how they could possibly come to fruition with reality being what it is, he has things that he still wants to do. Places that he wants to go.

I'll hold onto your glove-

Promises to keep.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Easter Breakfast

𖤐Pairing: Hook up! Gaz x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐AN: If I have to cry, you have to cry

𖤐Warnings: fluff, angst, morning after, aftercare, language, sad ending, more use of Kyle, the ‘L’ bomb, short fic, blaming Price,

𖤐Summary: When Y/n and Gaz hook up before he has to leave for duty. He is usually before the sun even up, but today was different, and Y/n doesn't know why?

————

————

6:00AM

Y/n yawns when she hears birds chirping and the sun just barely poking from her curtains. She rolls on her back and looked to her left seeing an empty bed.

He quick hook up was gone for the day. He probably had to get back to the military base. She sits up and grabs a shirt off the floor and opened her bedroom door, but a scent of freshly made pancakes filles her nose.

She was confused and walked downstairs seeing a tall man, gray sweatpants and no shirt.

"Kyle?" He turns when hearing his name. "What are you still doing here?" She asked.

"Oh good morning...thought I'd make you some pancakes, I know how much you like them," he says with a smile and scraping a pancake on a plate.

He then pushes the plate across the counter and smiled at her. "I found strawberries, bananas, syrup, whipped cream, and some chocolate chips, make it how you like it," he says.

"I thought you were gone. You usually are by now," she says, sitting at the counter. She looks down at the plate and saw the pancakes made a little bunny.

"Thought...maybe I leave too soon and thought maybe you deserve a few things."

"A few things?" She asked.

"Yeah, homemade pancakes, I also have a few gifts for you."

"Gifts? Kyle, you didn't have to. I didn't get you anything."

"Nah, it's okay, it's okay," he says. "It's just for you."

He walks off and went to go grab a paper bag and come back placing it in front of Y/n. "I didn't have time for wrapping paper and I couldn't find a gift bag either."

Y/n opens the bag and looks down in it and then pulled out a small light tan teddy bear with a small dark army green t-shirt with 'Task Force 141' on it and Kyle Gaz Garrick on the back.

"Kyle? What's this for?" She questioned him, looking up at him. "I don't understand, what is this for?" Gaz and Y/n aren't a couple, so what's the teddy for?

"Just to show my love for you," he says. Y/n felt some sort of suspicion going on, why is he, a hook up, doing all of this?

“Kyle…you don’t this ever! What the hell is going on? Tell me. I’m not going to be mad or anything…” she asks him.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay…I’m going on a year long mission…it’s…it’s going to be in Russia and my Captain says…we may…we may not come back…”

“What?” Y/n was shocked. “You might not come back-THAT’S FUCKING SUICIDE! You are going on a suicide mission and you’re okay with that?!”

“I don’t have a choice, Y/n…” he says with his mouth open and taking in a sharp breath. “I leave tomorrow morning. That’s why I didn’t leave right away like normal…I wanted to spend more time with the one person…that…that makes me feel happy and loved…I know I’m just a hook up but I’ve learned from you and what we do together and you make me feel happy…I love you, okay?”

"Kyle," she gets off the stool and placed her left hand bend his neck pulling him down into a hug, his arms immediately went around her waist holding her tightly. "I love you too," she felt tears in her eyes.

Soon they fell and she buries her face into his shirt.

-----------

Rain hits her umbrella, she stares down at the head stone, reading his name to herself and tears fells from her eyes again.

"I miss you," she says to the headstone. She bends down and placed her hand over the photo of Kyle, smiling in his Military uniform, he surprising looked happy in that photo and not forced like all the others she's seen of him.

Going home was hard because of the memories that were made in her home, so she moved from Manchester to Yorkshire to get away. She lives happily in Yorkshire but misses Kyle dearly.

She comes and visits his grave every so often, when she thinks about him really. She placed a sunflower down and touched his grave once more.

"I love you," she says before leaving the graveyard.

As she heads to her car she sees his friends dressed in tuxes and looked sad for Y/n. Kyle use to talk about Y/n all the time.

"Came to pay respects as well?" She asked, sounding a bit sarcastic towards Price. Price and the guys were badly injured but Kyle paid the price with his own life, while the others were just in the hospital and came home to their families.

"Y/n-"

"Don't...I'll be leaving, so you guys can pay respects to him..." Y/n blamed Price for Kyle's death, he had a chance to save Kyle like he did with the others, but Kyle 'didn't want to be save,' is what Price told Y/n.

She didn't believe that.

[ginneke]

Flash Fiction Friday - #213: "Ten Years Later."

@flashfictionfridayofficial has released today's prompt and I've been ~inspired~.

—

I wrote an AU of my own AU, 'A Seed of Song', in which -- ten years after the Calamity -- a juvenile Rito tries to learn more about her Hylian dad, guided by her dead father's diary.

Told in reverse chronology. 1k words exactly in GDocs.

—

And The Time Has Flown

Characters: The Chick (A Seed of Song), Aryll, Purah (mentioned), Impa, Sidon, Revali (posthumous)

—

"The Director told me you're here. That you're healing. 

"...Are you? I'm not doubting her! But— Are you really gonna wake up? 

"...Are you really my father?

"Nobody can tell me. But if you are… Please. Come back. Come back."

—

"Hi! Um. I'm looking for Lady Purah?"

Aryll pauses and looks the little Rito girl over. She doesn't seem much taller than an eight-year-old, and her russet-and-cream feathers are in substantial disarray from a long, hard flight. 

"The Director?" 

The little girl nods. Her eyes flash with hope.

 "You want that big building up the hill, then," Aryll says, pointing the way, and tries not to smile at the flicker of dismay on the girl's face that soon turns into grim determination.

"Thanks."

"You'll have a hard time getting up there, you know," Aryll calls after the child as she starts hopping away up the path/ Her legs are only little. "It’s late. I'll be running supplies up there tomorrow morning. You're welcome to stay with..."

- us, she almost says, but that's not right anymore. It's just Aryll in that old house across the Firly, after Gramps passed away and Ma went out hunting and never came back, and Nanna didn't wake up one morning, and—

And Dad and Link both died, far away from home, when the Calamity came.

“You promise?”

The girl says it with such suspicion that Aryll has to laugh. “Promise.”

She beckons for the Rito girl to follow. As they near the bridge, she thinks to ask, “What's your name?

The girl chirps out, “I’m—"

—

"...I see."

The child fidgeted from one foot to the other. "Do you... believe me?"

Truthfully, it is quite the wild and incredulous tale. If she hadn't been an unwitting witness to some small part of the tale, she might not have believed it.

But Impa had found herself cast as a silent intermediary, letting Link's letters slip out of the castle with minimal disturbance and no eyes but her own setting sight on their contents.

Champion Revali's replies had been scarcer, and neither side had given much indication of the regard that might imply a shared parental duty, but...

Purah told her, just once, of the champion's chick. Her older sister had always enjoyed keeping secrets. It would come as no surprise if Purah knew something more.

So Impa puts her doubts aside for now, and tells the child what she knows, and sets her on the path towards Purah.

...And that evening, when the shadows fall and the village turns still, Impa walks to the island where the Goddess Statue stands and prays Link might wake and return to them soon.

For Princess Zelda's sake, and for this child who calls herself his.

—

This year, Gaddison is chosen to wield the Ceremonial Trident. Not for the first time, Prince Sidon longs to be bigger. Then he might be the one to carry it instead.

He's distracted anyway. There's a Rito perched on the cliffside the entire time, though they don't make any move to approach, watching the subdued ceremony in silence and shifting only when Laflat steps forward and sings the song that Sidon hates them singing.

By the time the festival ends, and Sidon manages to glance up at the cliffside again, the Rito has gone.

He tracks them to a pond, south of the Veiled Falls, and finds them sitting at the edge of the water, a book in their wings and a bow set within reach.

They are - she is - singing. But it's not the simple version, the way Laflat sang it: it's Mipha's version, and Queen Sela's before her, with a few unknown turns that speak of another voice that passed it on.

Sidon picks up on all of that, but he can't make sense of it. "How do you know that?"

The Rito snaps her book shut, guilty. "I — my dad sang it to me when I first hatched."

"...You're a Rito," Sidon points out.

"Um. Yeah?"

Rito don't marry Zora. Do they? Maybe there's something he doesn't know. "How was your dad a Zora?"

"They... weren't? They were Rito. And Hylian. He's the one who sang to me. My uncle said he was a knight in service to Hyrule's princess..." 

That's wrong. She's wrong. Princess Zelda only had one sworn knight. Everyone says so. And he was...

"The Hylian Champion was gonna be my sister's husband," Sidon tells her with certainty. His father says it's true, and all the councillors believe it too, even if they hate Hylians now. "You're mistaken."

It's the wrong thing to say. The Rito girl flies into a rage. "I'm not lying," she shrieks, "you're lying!" 

"You're wrong!" Sidon yells back. "Why would my sister have made him that armor if they weren't…"

Everyone says it! Mipha loved Link. Mipha wanted to marry Link. So why does this girl think she can barge in and say otherwise?

But she flies off before Sidon can say so, winging her way south, away from Zora's Domain. Well. Good riddance, Muzu would say.

...He still feels bad about it. If he sees her again, he'll try to say sorry.

—

He keeps talking about giving her a name.

No matter that I've told him she has a name, and it's only a sad quirk of his biology that he can't say it. How else would she recognise when I'm talking to her? Really. She doesn't need a Hylian name yet.

—

...Loath as I am to concede the point, he might - inadvertently - have one.

And the name he suggested wasn't that unacceptable...

I wonder if she ever felt this way when I was young. Probably not: the way people speak of her, she thought herself invincible.

I should thank her for that lesson, at least. No warrior is invincible. Any battle might be our last. I knew that, but...

It took until now for me to understand it.

Yes. That name will do. I'll tell him when we meet at Mt. Lanayru…

[wearfinethingsalltoowell]

Quick TealOranges drabble that I’m dashing off before tomorrow renders it moot!

“I kissed someone.”

Olu couldn’t say he was expecting anything different. They’d been seperated for months after having sex once, it was natural to move on. But he had his best friend back, and that was what mattered.

And Archie was pretty cool. He was looking forward to meeting her properly.

He was appointed to go to the Pirate Queen to beg for the crew’s lives. Captain Bonnet was in no state.

And he wasn’t going to deny that poor man anything, circumstances being what they were. His problems seemed small compared to saving the people who killed the love of your life.

He liked Zheng—they had been fast friends when she masqueraded as a soup seller, and she had taken them in when they were in need. An pirate legend who had a soft spot for those…less skilled (looking at you, Stede). She reminded him of the Blackbeard they had met months ago, before…

He really only intended to talk to her, but when she admitted she was trying to seduce him, he wasn’t opposed. If it crossed his mind that he was evening the score with Jim, he only had to look at Blackbeard and Stede to reassure himself it was hardly the worst thing to do after a breakup.

And she was really, really pretty. He tried to keep his head on, to advocate for the crew, but no one could blame him for getting a bit distracted.

“Get your pants on, they’re escaping!!” Auntie burst in, startling Olu out of his thoughts.

Stood there in shock, all he could say was “I have my pants on.”

Zheng looked at him with fury, and he understood completely. This looked horrible. No one would ever believe he didn’t know.

He wondered if he should go after her, or if it would be pointless, when Jim dropped down from the ceiling.

“We have to go, now!!”

“Are you escaping?” Olu was a bit offended that the crew hadn’t waited to see if he could save them before running. Were they going to leave him?

“We’ll talk about it later!” Jim was frantic, motioning Olu over, but he stayed put. He cast a glance to the door, feeling a rush of guilt for what happened with Zheng.

“Olu!!” Jim called, and at the look in their eye, he followed them out. They were family, and he wasn’t about to let Jim lose any more family.

“Okay, what the fuck?” he asked, when they were safely back on the ship.

“Captain said we were retaking the Revenge, we did a little chloroform, made a makeshift rope, and..ta-da!” Jim punctuated their statement with a thumbs up.

“Did he not know I was negotiating? Was he gonna leave me there?”

“The whole plan was pretty spur of the moment. I feel for the guy, but I could’ve killed him when I asked where you were and he said he didn’t know. You would’ve been killed if you had stayed there!”

“It would probably have been fine,” Olu muttered, not sure how much of the story he should share.

“You’re too optimistic,” Jim sighed, “I wasn’t leaving without you!”

“Thank you,” Olu smiled at them, and Jim dove into his arms for a hug.

“Missed you.”

“I missed you too, you know that.” He wondered again if he should tell Jim about Zheng. This seemed like the perfect opening, and, as Jim had said, they were best friends who told each other things. But he couldn’t make himself do it. What happened would come out, probably in an embarrassing way, and he wanted to keep it to himself for a bit.

They went above deck to join the rest of the crew, sans Stede who had gone to say his goodbyes to Edward. Olu’s heart hurt for them—they were in love, it was plain as day to everyone who knew them. He didn’t understand Jim’s newfound sympathy for Izzy, the man so vile and hateable they were ready to kill him after one day as captain. He couldn’t help but eye him with continued suspicion—that day on deck, before everything had gone to shit, Edward had seemed, if not happy, then content. The marooning only happened after Izzy emerged from his cabin later that day—they might never know what happened, but Olu had known people like Izzy. He would never trust him.

Blackbeard’s half of the crew were settling back in nicely, Frenchie and Fang already having changed out of their Kraken-era garb. Jim kept theirs on—said they liked the style.

Olu took a seat next to the newly-returned Lucius, who had struck up a fast friendship with Archie.

Relief flashed over Lucius’ face when he saw Olu.

“Oh thank God, Olu! Though I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d chosen to camp out on the Red Flag. Competent captain, you know?”

Seemed like he and Stede were still on the outs.

“Wait, you’re Olu?” Archie broke in, sticking out her hand for an introductory fist bump, “sorry, you’re just kind of a figure of legend on the ship. Jim told me all about you! You’re the smart one!”

“Hey!” Lucius scoffed.

“You’re smart too, bud. I just didn’t hear your name 20 times a day. If I had to hear the cake story one more time, I was going to kill them.”

A smile graced Olu’s face. It was better than her reaction to meeting Stede, from what he’d heard.

Frenchie walked over to him later that night, offering him the room back. Something about bad juju, again.

He didn’t argue, he could use a warm bed.

He curled up into his pillow, trying not to think about the day ahead. Their troubles were far from over, having made an enemy of the queen of Pirates.

When he was half asleep, he heard his door open, which wasn’t necessarily odd, but annoying. He didn’t want to get out of bed in the middle of the night for whatever trouble the crew got themselves in.

He waited for whoever had come in to announce themself, but it didn’t come. He heard near-silent footsteps and began to wonder if they were being invaded.

Instead, he felt the covers pulled back and the cold hit his bare skin, before another body jumped into the bed with him.

He relaxed a bit when he realized it was Jim, who was climbing on top of him and nuzzling their head in his neck.

“Made Frenchie give us the room back.” they announced.

As confused as he was, Olu laughed. Only Jim would bully poor Frenchie for a room that wasn’t even that big.

He could ask Jim what was going on in the morning. Right now, they were sleeping soundly for what was likely the first time in ages, and he didn’t plan to wake them.

[luckyricochet]

Well-Worn Things || Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

Fandom: Masters of the Air

Pairing: Quinn/Louise

Warnings: Language, mentions of death

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: This fic is revived! I'd like to be more active with my OCs and fics for the HBO war fandom now since I have been lovingly developing them for about two years now (not including this one) so your support is much appreciated. I think there might be at the most two or three chapters more for this short fic so please look forward to them!

Louise led Quinn inside. He stood in the middle of the sitting room as if he were a statue, not moving or touching anything. Louise felt his eyes on her as she rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands after her mother, who too observed their new housemate but with a decidedly maternal eye.

“No dirty hands or faces are allowed at the table,” she clucked, taking in his scruffy appearance and pushing him toward the hall after she drew all the curtains shut. Her still-damp hand left a print on his back. “You need to wash. And change.”

Louise led Quinn inside. He stood in the middle of the sitting room as if he were a statue, not moving or touching anything. Louise felt his eyes on her as she rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands after her mother, who too observed their new housemate but with a decidedly maternal eye. 

“No dirty hands or faces are allowed at the table,” she clucked, taking in his scruffy appearance and pushing him toward the hall after she drew all the curtains shut. Her still-damp hand left a print on his back. “You need to wash. And change.”

“What—“ Not a little bemused, Quinn rapidly turned to Louise, pleading, eyebrows raised in incomprehension. 

Louise dried her hands, suppressing her amusement. “You must be clean before you eat,” she said. “Come with me.”

At the other end of the house, Louise rummaged through her brother’s wardrobe. One by one, she handed garments to Quinn—pants, a shirt, sweater, socks, even underwear—He couldn’t be caught wearing single scrap of American-made clothing, or they would all fall under suspicion. “These will be yours. The bathroom is down the hall. Wash up, and then change. Do not wear anything else except these clothes. We are going to get rid of your uniform, so make sure you empty your pockets; everything must be gone.”

“Okay,” Quinn agreed. He flexed his feet, clad in boots. “What about my shoes?”

A lock of hair fell over Louise’s face; she pushed it aside impatiently and got to her feet. “We’ll find you a pair that fits. What size are you?”

“Nine.”

“Is that nine in the American size?”

Quinn looked down at his feet and shrugged. “I guess.”

Louise didn’t know off the top of her head what that would convert to in Belgium. There was probably a conversion written down somewhere; she’d had to dig more to find it. “Very well. I’ll put a few pairs outside the door. If they don’t fit, stuff them with tissues until they do and we’ll find a better pair in the morning. Come back to the dining room when you are done and we will eat.”

In the kitchen, Louise’s mother had laid four place settings at the table and was now spooning a helping onto each place. 

“Let me help, maman,” Louise said, trying to reach for the pot but her mother quickly jerked it back. 

“You just worry about tomorrow,” she said. “Does he have everything?”

“Perhaps just needs a pair of shoes. I don’t know what size he wears exactly here.” 

“There are some extra pairs in the basement,” her father interjected. “Try those ones if Armand’s don’t fit.”  

The creaking floor announced Quinn’s presence to them. He appeared shyly at the end of the corridor, pinned there by their eyes. He held his old clothes. 

“Um…I have this—” 

Louise put her arms out for them, taking the bundle and depositing it under a loose floorboard in her parents’ bedroom. Her father would dispose of them that night. 

Quinn had taken the empty seat next to Louise’s when she came back. As everyone began to eat, though, he hesitated. His eyes scanned his plate of potatoes and chicken and then he glanced at her, struggling to speak. She questioned him with her eyes, tipping her head to the side slightly. 

“Um—well, I ate outside, if your family wants more—”

“You eat it,” Louise said with a shrug and returning to her own. “We already portioned it out. My brother isn’t going to come home tonight, so you have his helping.” She jerked her head. “Eat.”

He didn’t seem to want to argue, so he did as she said. At the next chair, her father kept his eyes on his plate but somehow seemed to be studying Quinn at the same time.

“American, huh?” he said finally.

Quinn managed to swallow the bite he was chewing and stared at her father, his eyes wide. “Yes, sir.”

“Sir,” Louise’s father repeated. He laughed shortly and leaned back. “I’m just a farmer.”

“Sorry,” Quinn said. “That’s the military for you, I guess.”

“Don’t make fun of him, papa,” Louise scolded. 

Her father smirked. “Louise here says I should not tease.”

“What? Oh, no—”Quinn’s eyes darted over to her and then back to her father. “I mean, I’ll take anything as long as it’s not Nazi flak, trust me. Uh—but thanks—for uh—” Quinn nodded hastily to both of them, so flustered Louise had to quickly bite her lip from laughing. 

“Ever been to Europe before the war?” her father questioned. 

“Definitely not,” Quinn said, shaking his head. 

“So what do you think of it? Europe?”

“Uh…it’s nice. I like it. I haven’t seen too much of it, but—I like it.” Quinn rubbed his hands on his thighs back and forth, trying to relax but at a loss for words. “And—what about you, have you ever been to America?”

“America?” Louise’s father repeated. “Expensive trip for a farmer.”

“Oh. Well yeah, I would have never made it over here either if there wasn’t…well. A war going on, I guess,” Quinn said. 

“No, our family has been on this plot of land for decades,” Louise’s father said proudly. “No German bastard is going to make me move, over my dead body.”

“Philippe!” Louise’s mother frowned at her father. “Some civility, please.” 

Bickering aside, Louise was glad they all had the time to talk. She knew her father was trying to suss Quinn out. They had already agreed to help him, but they would all feel more comfortable if they had an idea of who he was. She listened as they talked about what Quinn used to to before the war, his family, and friends back home. It was interesting—mostly because she didn’t understand or relate to any of it, things like Quinn playing a game called baseball in high school and his father working on a dam on a big river near his town. He was relatively unguarded about it all. He probably recognized that they wanted to make sure they could trust him so was honest, but it seemed to help him too. The more he talked, the more his shoulders relaxed, and he even began to smile once or twice. 

When they finished eating, Louise’s mother assigned Quinn to drying duty as Louise cleaned the dishes. He acquiesced without complaint and they stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the sink together while her parents disappeared to the basement. The sound of the running water was Louise and Quinn’s only other companion, until Quinn decided to speak, just loudly enough so she could hear him over the faucet. 

“So what happens tomorrow?”

Louise glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. His expression was serious, far too much so for someone who, tomorrow, would have to pretend he lived here. “We go into town. Someone there will talk to you.”

“Okay. How long is it going to take?” Impatience crept into his questioning, the way it had in the garden.

“As quickly as it can happen,” Louise replied. “There is no strict timeline here. Some days things are fast. Other days we have to wait. The important thing is that you don’t appear suspicious.”

“I—”

“Like the way you are acting now,” Louise said pointedly. “We are going to help you. So you trust us. All right?” She turned the faucet off and looked him in the eye. He had the grace to appear marginally mollified. 

“All right,” he agreed. 

“Good. Now. You want news?” 

The latch to the cellar door was hooked. Louise rolled the rug that covered it up over, pulled the door in the floor up, and listened. A barely-audible, tinny sound floating upward from the basement. “Papa?We’re coming down,” she called. There was a zip as he turned the volume down to hear them. 

“Okay—” came her father’s voice. Louise gestured for Quinn to take the ladder first so she could close the door above them. He stood against the wall after descending, staring at her parents at the opposite wall, huddled on the floor around a radio. They had missed the broadcast; the airwaves were now blaring a German symphony. Louise led Quinn over to them and they joined them on the ground, surrounded by seed packets, gardening tools, and dusty boxes. Quinn didn’t know it, but in some of the boxes was a stash of pistols her brother had been stockpiling for the last year. 

“News?” Louise asked. 

“There was an uprising in one of the Polish ghettos,” her father reported. “Yesterday morning. The Nazis went in to round more of the Jews up and they started to fight back.”

“Is there any hope for it?” Quinn asked.

Her father shook his head minutely. “You see pictures of those SS once they are done destroying the ghettos? It will end just like that again, mark my words.”

It was harsh but there was no reason to think any differently. Louise bit her lip and pressed the tips of her fingers together. 

“And in Italy…your General Patton met up with the British,” her father continued, nodding at Quinn. “Seems like they have Sicily.”

A large grin formed on Quinn’s face and he exhaled in relief. “That’s great. Really, really great…What about from America?”

Her father sat up a little straighter, stretching his back languidly like a cat. “Mr. Roosevelt is in Canada.”

“Canada?” Quinn repeated. “What for?”

“Apparently he is having talks with Mr. Churchill and Mr. King. The Canadian prime minister,” he added for their benefit. Louise was secretly pleased for her own dignity that Quinn had also appeared unfamiliar with Mr. King’s name. He didn’t seem embarrassed by lack of information, though.

“Do they say what they’re talking about?” he asked instead, fueled by the news of his countrymen.

“Not a word,” Louise’s father said. 

“Oh.” Quinn’s shoulders slumped. 

“Still, that’s good news, is it not?” Louise attempted to be encouraging. “Good…cooperation between countries.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Quinn agreed half-heartedly. Just a minute ago so lively, he was clearly deflated now. “Well, it doesn’t really matter to me, just as long as they get more planes over to England.”

He spoke out of exhaustion, Louise guessed. As they tramped back up after her parents to the main level of the house, his feet moved heavily. When he got to the top, he leaned against the wall, his head pressed against his arm. 

“You should sleep,” Louise said. “You had a hard day.” It was only eight o’clock, but given all that he had seen that day, Louise was impressed he had made it as long as he had. “Quinn?” She stepped closer to him, putting her face against the wall so she could observe him better. 

His head shifted marginally and his eyes met hers. Daring to move closer, Louise reached out and took him by the arm. Her brother’s jacket fit loosely enough that she didn’t actually touch any of Quinn’s body, her fingers curling only around the fabric. But it was enough to coax him along to her brother’s room, empty for the evening as it so often was. 

“It’s my brother’s room,” Louise explained after she had turned the light on. “You sleep here. Do not move the curtains. If you need anything, my room is next door on the left. And you remember where the bathroom is.”

Quinn nodded mutely, his weariness catching up to him. He slumped onto the bed and ran his hands through his blond, cherub-like curls briefly, and then over his face. They fell into his lap and he stared at them, for a long moment. It felt awkward to watch him, so Louise took his stillness as her cue to leave. 

“Well, good night,” she said, slightly too loudly. The room seemed a mile long as she crossed to let herself out.

“I haven’t thanked you yet.”

Louise blinked, taken aback by his frankness. Her hand was on the door, about to open it, but she stopped herself in time to regard him. “Oh—it’s okay—”

“Thank you, Louise.” He was too tired, it seemed, to get up again, but he looked at her now. That dazed appearance he had been wearing the whole evening had not faded, but there was more clarity to him presently. “You and your parents. I’d be dead without you.”

You might still be, Louise thought, palming the door handle. England was a long ways away and her family’s protection went only so far; they both knew it. But it wasn’t the time to think about that reality. Louise offered him a small smile. “We do what we can, William,” she said finally. 

Louise retired not long after Quinn. She joined her parents for a cup of tea, where they interrogated her about what she intended to do tomorrow. It was meant with good intentions, for she was only nineteen. The danger was paramount, but Louise didn’t need reminding. Their badgering keyed her up, turning her stomach and frazzling her brain. When the questioning was over, she retreated to her room for a much-needed rest of the evening by herself.

She thought she might write Charlotte—There was plenty that had happened. But after sitting at her desk with the pen in her hand and no ink flowing, she pushed the paper to the corner and groaned with frustration. There was no way to communicate all the events of the day innocently. One wrong word and the Germans would descend on their farm with a fury Louise had no wish to see. 

She settled instead for a book in bed. At least there were still these small pleasures that the war had not stripped of them. In between the turning of pages, Louise listened to the room next door to her. It was all quiet. She wondered if he was staying up or sleeping like a baby. She hoped fervently the latter. Tomorrow would be easier than the ordeal he had endured today, but he needed to have his head on straight nevertheless.

So did she. 

Louise set her book aside and turned out the light. With the covers pulled up to her chin, she felt a little comforted as she stared at the dark ceiling until her sight glazed over and she could do so no more. On her side, Louise gazed through the sliver of space between the drawn curtains and the window. Clouds smudged across the gray-blue sky and the moon hung above the low lands. Its soft light crowned the trees and shrubs with silver. The beauty of the country belied the reality that existed beyond the farm…

With a jerk, Louise started awake. For a moment, she panicked: Was someone here? Who was dead? Then when she realized there was no one at the door and the house was peaceful, she calmed. 

Well, it was mostly peaceful. A muffled sound penetrated through the wall between her and her brother’s chamber, a sort of unintelligible muttering, accompanied with an occasional dull thump. Louise sat up in bed, clutching the blanket to her chest, thinking. Then she got up. 

Her parents’ quarters at the other end of the abandoned corridor were probably far enough that they wouldn’t hear anything. Good. It was better that way. She stood at her brother’s entrance, stock still, and listened. The silence that had overtaken the house was misleading; Louise had to only wait a few minutes before she heard the same noise once more. She knocked the back of her hand on the door lightly. “William? William, are you all right?” 

An even louder thump answered her. It shook Louise’s insides, but even then, she hesitated. She had heard stories from the last war of men who came back from the front, the way they didn’t seem to understand reality after experiencing war. They didn’t listen to reason or might even fight people who tried to assist them. Louise was no doctor—what if she did something and made the situation even worse?

“William?” she endeavored a second time to appeal to him through the door, risking disturbing her parents. “It’s Louise. Do you need help?” 

The same response floated through the door. Louise pursed her lips. He’s just a boy, she thought. And not a very big one at that. 

Louise gripped the knob and turned it slowly, inching her way into the room and shutting the door behind her. She heard, rather than saw, Quinn. He kicked at the blanket, shoving it to the foot of the bed. The rest of his body tossed and turned on the mattress, made all the more noticeable by the ragged breaths he emitted.

Louise steeled herself and kneeled next to the bed. “William, wake up—it’s all right. You’re safe.” He ignored her, thrashing every few seconds and throwing his head about. Yet he was clearly asleep. Similar invocations were to no avail. Louise thought about shaking him, but something in her told her that would be a bad idea. She went with a different tack—

“Quinn?”

A bone-chilling gasp escaped his lips. It could have come from a dying man, except it was coming from a man who was very much alive. Louise still could not see Quinn properly, but she heard him. He was motionless now and didn’t jerk back and forth on the bed anymore. His breathing, however, was more rapid than ever. 

“Colonel Harding?” He masked the quiver in his question only barely. 

“No, it’s Louise.” She let him remember where he was and then went on, “I’m sorry to wake you; you were…”

“No, it’s fine, it’s…” Quinn cut her off like he didn’t want to hear what she had to say, even though Louise wasn’t even certain she could describe what he had been like. He took a few more breaths. “It’s okay.”

Louise shuffled backward from the bed to give him space and sat against the dresser; her knees smarted from the wooden floor anyway. Gradually, Quinn grew quieter until the air was quite still. She studied at the shadowy outline of him warily. “Are you all right?”

A long pause. “Yeah,” he said at last. He sat up and swung his legs over the mattress, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. “Sorry to wake up you.”

“No, it’s…it’s fine…”

Louise’s eyes were adjusting to the dark. She could see him better now. Quinn’s gaze was fixed on some random point on the ground and his mouth was set in a firm straight line. “What happened?”

He raised his head to regard her, and then dropped it without saying anything. Somehow, they mutually agreed silently to not speak for a minute. When it was up and it seemed like Quinn would say nothing further, Louise scraped against the floor. “Well, if you’re okay, then—” She slid her legs under her to stand. 

“Wait.”

She blinked. “Yes?”

Quinn still didn’t return her gaze as she looked at him. He seemed to be thinking. “Stay.” His tone was supplicating, like a child’s. Oddly tender, it preyed on Louise’s heart, compelled her to sit again to acquiesce to his request. She pulled her legs up to her chest, setting her chin on her knees. 

“Okay.”

At her agreement, Quinn slid down off the bed to join her on the floor. His fingers drummed a frenetic rhythm on his leg. Louise pretended not to notice, between two minds on he would even speak at all. Maybe he just wanted to have someone else be there; she could understand that. 

“I left my buddy in the plane.” 

The confession pierced the air like a shard of glass, shattering the amiable, if awkward, tension. Louise could swear she heard it ringing in her ears. Maybe that was why she wasn’t confident if she heard him correctly. She lifted her chin up slowly.

“What do you mean?” 

“One of the gunners. He was stuck in the ball turret. It jammed when we were all bailing. I tried to open the hatch—” He clapped his hands together and shrugged, helpless. “…Couldn’t get him out.” Quinn bit his lip and shook his head. He whispered like his speech was dragged out of him. 

Louise stared at him, eyes wide and unsure of what to say. It wasn’t as if she was ignorant of the cruelties of war or mankind. This war wasn’t her family’s first; she still recalled what her grandparents and parents had endured in the Great War. Death was no stranger to her. She should have known how to react. But all she could do was take a deep breath, hoping it wasn’t shuddering and a giveaway of her horror—which had to only be a fraction of what Quinn felt himself. 

“But…you tried. If you hadn’t left you’d be dead too—” They were cold, stupid words of comfort. Triteness never helped anyone. 

“He begged me. Screaming, to not go,” Quinn hissed. His mouth was tightly shut as he thought. “And I left him.” His voice broke and he bit his lip, as agitated as Louise had ever seen a person. With a sudden fierceness, he shot to his feet and paced the length of the room several times, until he leaned over, hands on his knees. “Jesus fucking Christ!” he spat. His breaths were coming out of him in spurts anew. He sat back down and clenched his hair with both of his hands, like he wanted to tear it out in utter frustration. Agonizing torment contorted his face. He had been probably holding it inside of him ever since the crash. Maybe he would have been able to hide it for as long as he stayed with them. Louise thought that was probably what he wanted. But the night had an uncanny ability to reveal the things people were the most haunted by. And Quinn’s ghosts were the worst that there were. Louise felt her throat choking up at the mere idea of them. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.” 

Quinn finally met her gaze. The moonlight glinted off his eyes, striking her to the core. The rest of his face was half illuminated, half shadowed, but it was enough. Somehow he seemed unprepared for Louise’s reaction. His face relaxed marginally, and then all at once, even if he wasn’t really at ease. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “It’s all so…” He threw up his hands and shrugged, his emotions spent. “Well—you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Louise didn’t blame him for not being able to articulate himself more clearly. Hardly anyone could these days. She barely could, and she was relatively better off than most people. At least her family was together and she wasn’t forced to fight. How could someone like Quinn be expected to do any better, after everything he had seen and everything he had done? Impulse took over her inhibitions and she leaned forward, reaching for him. 

“I do.” 

Quinn’s eyebrows came together at the sensation of her hands against his. He glanced at them knotted together, and then at her. Louise nodded firmly. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

He didn’t resist her touch, still warm from her bed. Quinn’s hands were cold. When Louise curled hers around them tightly, he flexed back, as if instinctively grasping for a source of comfort. Louise didn’t want to let go either, lest he be deprived of what meager solace she finally could provide. She only regretted that her hands, weathered by years of labor, were no longer soft. 

[braveclementine]

Loki's Departure

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

You, Steve, Hulk, Tony, Thor, and Elizabeth all made your way up the ruined streets of New York. It definitely was not a pretty sight and it was going to take a very long time to clean and repair everything. You wondered if Tony would have little robots fly around the city and repair things. That might actually be kind've funny to see.

Tony kept an arm around your shoulder, not wanting to let go of you. You didn't object at all, even if the metal was a little heavier than his normal arm. But thanks to his genius, it wasn't to much heavier.

Elizabeth seemed downcast, her head hanging as she padded along beside you. You felt bad for her. She had waited longer than anyone ever had to meet their soulmate. Everyone always met their soulmate within less than seven days of their birthday. A whole year was unheard of. And it had been longer than that.

And then when she finally got to meet him, he was a raving lunatic. And she had to both defend her family and friends while also trying to stay loyal to her soulmate. It could not be easy and you admired her strength.

You headed up to the floor where Loki had been laying. Judging by how deep the holes in the concrete were, you had a sneaking suspicion that Bruce might just have thrown Loki around.

Loki looked just as bad as the rest of you, with several bloody scratches across his face. Elizabeth padded faster than the rest of you, coming over to lay by his body as he started to get up.

Loki slowly pushed himself up and turned to sit against the stairs to look at the rest of you. You stood between Tony and Steve, still holding one of the Chitauri weapons. You couldn't wait to go home. . . oh wait you were home. Hmm.

"If it's all the same to you," He groaned, putting his hands on the stairs and looked at Tony. "I'll have that drink now."

Instead, you went down to the Shawarma unit and ate. It was very quite, very awkward, but the food was delicious. Loki was made to sit outside of the shop, Elizabeth staying with him. Her tail continuously flicked in displeasure, though you weren't sure if it was the smell of the food, the fact that she had to watch over Loki, or that Loki wasn't being fed. Probably all of it.

Thor was the one to take Loki away and keep him safe. Elizabeth went with them.

The other heroes were given rooms in the parts of the tower that weren't destroyed. You were going to watch Thor take him back to Asgard tomorrow.

"You okay?" Tony asked when the two of you were finally sitting in your room by yourselves. It was finally just the two of you.

"Yeah, I'm alright." You answered, looking at yourself in the mirror as you stripped out of your agent wear. Tony put the first aid kit on top of the dresser. "Are you okay? You almost. . ."

You couldn't bear to say the word 'died'. It was still to real. It had only been less than two hours ago. He had almost died.

Suddenly, anger flared inside of you and you spun, slamming your fists into his chest. "How could you? Why did you have to play the hero Tony? You almost left me! Us!"

Tony caught your hands, lifting them sweetly to press kisses to them. "I'm sorry love. But I thought if I could get the nuke through the portal, I could aim it at the ship, kill the commander. I. . . I knew if the nuke blew up in New York, all three of us were dead. At least this way. . . you and Everleigh would have made it."

You couldn't be mad at him for that. You knew if the positions were reversed, you would have done the same. Made sure at least your husband and daughter could have survived, even if it meant you couldn't. Because the two of them living was better than knowing all three of you were gone.

You sniffed, wiping your eyes. Tony led you over to the bed so he could administer small butterfly bandages to several of your cuts.

"Do you think Elizabeth is okay?" You asked suddenly, glancing up at him.

Tony hesitated. "It's hard. I mean. . . you know that she's a wonderful person. I feel bad for her, to be soulmate to such evil."

"I- I am worried." you admitted softly. "I've started wondering if maybe I didn't know her at all. If maybe she always was evil and I just never saw it. Because the only other alternative is that somehow, Loki is good."

"Well," Tony said softly, putting the first aid box away. "Maybe it's neither. Maybe Elizabeth is exactly what Loki needs to become good. Gods live a lot longer than us. Maybe. . . this is just a phase?"

You smiled a little, thinking about Gods going through rebellious phases before 'growing up' and then your smile fell, thinking about what the rebellious phase had cost the Earth.

Tony kissed the side of your head, "Get some sleep sweetheart."

"Wait." You said, reaching over into one of the bottom drawers and pulled out a couple of photos. "I know you would have wanted to be there the first time, but I wanted to surprise you, so I brought these back."

You handed him the black and white photos of the tiny human inside of you. "Isn't she adorable?"

"Aw her head is so big." Tony smiled. "She's going to be a genius just like her daddy."

You smiled, laying down beside Tony. He continued to stay sitting up, one hand on your stomach, the other hand holding the pictures. You closed your eyes, the image of him staying there behind your eyelids, and you fell asleep.

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

You and Tony showed up to the bridge where Thor was going to call the Asgardian gatekeeper- whose name was Heimdall- to bring him and Loki back to Asgard. Tony was wearing a gray suit while also wearing tennis shoes, something that drove you crazy. Why dress smartly and then wear something casual? It was like wearing a prom dress with converse shoes! Mental!

You were wearing a dress, a F/C that complimented Tony's suit. You were wearing two inch heels that matched the colour of your dress.

Tony carried the briefcase that contained the Tesseract.

Thor, Loki, and Elizabeth were the ones closest to you, though you couldn't figure out how they had gotten to the bridge you were standing on. Thor had Loki's arm in his grasp, his hammer in the other hand. Loki's hands were chained in front of him, while a strange gag was over his mouth. Elizabeth walked next to Loki on the other side, her tail drooping and her ears flat with displeasure. You wondered if it was because of the way Thor was treating Loki.

Steve was next, walking somewhat side by side with Banner. Steve and Banner were both dressed nicely. Steve was wearing a brown leather jacket, tan dress pants, and a blue dress shirt that made him look like he was. . . well he was probably dressing from the 40s. Banner was wearing a yellow dress shirt tucked into the same tan pants that Steve was wearing.

Nat and Clint were dressed more casual, the two of them holding hands and looking very happy together.

Elizabeth broke away from Loki and Thor's side to approach you. You knelt down, petting along her head.

"Are you sure?" You asked softly, not really wanting to lose your best friend, even if she was a cheetah at the moment.

She dipped her head once, licked your fingers casually, and then padded back over to Loki's side. You watched as Loki subtly dropped his hands so that his fingers were just touching the top of her head. The movement was so careful and slight, that you weren't even sure anyone else noticed as he petted the inside of her ear.

Maybe Tony was right. Maybe Elizabeth was exactly what Loki needed.

You watched Thor and Bruce have a sweet good-bye as they kissed enthusiastically. Thor tried to persuade Bruce to come back to Asgard with him, but Bruce told him he was needed here. You decided not to listen in anymore.

You watched Erik Selvig come with a huge containment chamber, which Tony put the Tesseract in. Thor took the cylinder container, holding one of the handles. He held the other handle out to Loki who stared at him for a moment, and then took the other handle. Now, his grip on Elizabeth became more pronounced as he had to hold onto her as well.

Thor turned the handle and the three of them became blazing blue light, before the headed up for the sky.

Huh. Maybe they didn't call on Heimdall after all.

Everyone sort've dispersed after that, Tony and Steve shaking hands before Steve held his hand out for you. You went to shake it, but he was still the gentleman and kissed the back of your hand, though it was less of a kiss and more of a brush.

Tony just rolled his eyes.

Bruce got into the car with Tony and you and you drove off into the morning sun. It was fun, watching Steve catch up on his motorcycle, and then pass you all by to go his own way.

And when you and Tony got back to Stark tower, you, Pepper, and Tony would redesign a new tower.

Avengers Tower. 

[kamaribvb]

Talia's Suffering Chapter Two:

In Which A Suspicious Letter Arrives, and Subsequently Y/n is Kidnapped by A Wizard

Member pairing: Y/n x Yoongi;

Genre: fantasy, fluff, adventure, angst;

Rating: PG-13;

Trigger warnings: descriptions of how a human trafficking organization that victimized Y/n prior to the start of the story works.

Word count: 2,909;

Summary: Y/n calls an old friend to babysit Talia the following day, and subsequently finds a fraudulent letter that raises suspicions about who is responsible for Talia's condition. The friend arrives a few hours later, at which point Y/n learns something about Talia that changes her mind about Aiden. Indeed, she demands that he come right that very second, and Aiden examines Talia then subsequently kidnaps Y/n.

After the phone call, Y/n began to gather all the scales that had fallen off of Talia since she had gotten sick.

“Wait, Yoongi, who will watch Talia while we are gone?”

“I don’t anticipate we’ll be gone for long, so maybe I could ask your older sister Adele to watch Talia.”

The storm had long since ended, so faint light was streaming through the entrance to the cave. Nevertheless, Y/n did not feel much different than she did while it was storming heavily. “No, I don’t believe that’s a wise idea since Talia has a tendency to be a little testy when unfamiliar people are in her cave even in the best of circumstances, but I’ve never seen her seem so sick. So the babysitter that would be least problematic would be a person who she’s familiar with and is trustworthy enough to speak up if something changes. The problem is that no one is coming to mind, so maybe it was a mistake to tell Adrian that both of us were coming.”

“You could ask Aileen,” he suggested as he helped Y/n gather the scales into a large bucket with a handle.

Consequently, Y/n paused, but still responded, “Yeah, I agree, she would probably be the best person, since she accompanied us on the majority of my missions back in the day. But I already know the first complaint she’ll have will be about how dirty this cave is, so would you please grab the broom from the house while I call her?”

Yoongi peeked over at her as his eyes widened a little as he asked, “Was she truly that intolerable?”

But Y/n shook her head as she replied, “Truthfully, I wouldn’t say intolerable, per se, just my polar opposite in numerous ways. We may have driven each other insane during missions with our clashing personalities, but one of the concepts she and I always agreed on is our respect and love for Talia.

With that, Yoongi disappeared into the fog with a nod while Y/n pulled out her cell phone.

“Hello, this is Aileen.”

“Hey, Aileen, its Y/n. Listen, I know it has been a while, but I have an emergency situation on my hands-Talia is extremely sick, so I need a trustworthy, prudent person to keep an eye on her while my partner and I travel to talk to a wizard healer tomorrow.”

“What the-Y/n? What’s wrong with Talia?”

“We don’t know for sure, just that her scales are changing color and falling off, her temperature has been consistently chilly, she’s obviously weak and fatigued, and I can tell she’s only eating to try to keep us from worrying.” At that moment, Y/n needed to be extra conscientious to keep her voice quiet and even to prevent herself from waking up Talia, but her entire body was shaking. “Aileen, I’m worried that she might be dying, and you know that I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life if I don’t try everything to save her, but I can’t just leave her, either.

“Calm down, Y/n, I’m already planning to come help out. In fact, if I’m as familiar with you as I suspect, you haven’t slept since Talia became sick so if it’s acceptable, I’m on my way right now. I’ll be there in a few hours, and once I arrive, why don’t you and Yoongi venture out for a picnic date or something?” she suggested.

“I’ll consider your suggestion once you arrive, but no matter what, I don’t need to hear a single word about how dirty this place is once you come, understand? I’m not in the mood to argue with anyone.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill, Y/n. But just for your information, I will probably clean the entire place myself while I’m there.  I’ll be there soon, Y/n, so try not to lose your mind?”

Y/n sighed. “Just leave the pile of leaves. Talia likes to roll around in them and they are fantastic tools for building campfires on cold nights.”

At that moment, Suga returned to the cave and started sweeping the entire place, but he avoided the leaves as best he could.

“I’ll try. Bye, Aileen.” Y/n hung up. “Thanks for the help, baby. I appreciate that you’re using your super speed for this, even though we both know the wind is will bring dirt in sooner or later anyways.” In fact, as soon as she finished speaking, a strong wind blew additional leaves and dirt in, but the fog had mostly dissipated.

“Of course, jagiya. In fact, why don’t you go bathe and change into something comfortable? I’ll watch Talia.”

The moment Yoongi finished speaking, Y/n smiled faintly as she began to pace a little. On the one hand, a shower and a fresh set of clothes sounded wonderful to her at the moment, as she had only done the bare minimum to maintain her health as of late. But on the other hand, there was a reason she had relied mostly on herself to be Talia’s caretaker as of late. In fact, Y/n and Aileen had raised Talia, so they were both acutely familiar with the little mannerisms Talia used to communicate with people around her. Yoongi, on the other hand, would not know those little signs, and Y/n didn’t know how to teach him.

After a minute, though, he spoke. “Do you need a hug?”

Y/n nodded as she pulled him into a loving embrace while he kissed the top of her head. They stood there silently for a few moments, with only Talia’s shallow breaths and the wind as background music.

“I suggest that you do as I suggested, Y/n. I promise, I’ll call you as soon as Talia wakes up.”

Y/n smiled up at him as she quickly kissed him goodbye. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, babe.”

After she was finished getting ready for the day, Y/n went ahead and checked the mail, and among the pile of junk was a suspicious letter that appeared to be from Aileen, according to the stamped words in the upper left corner. But prior to even opening the letter, Y/n suspected it wasn’t actually from her. First of all, Aileen didn’t communicate via letters if she had the phone number of whoever she was contacting-she used either text messages or phone calls. Consequently, she picked up the letter by one of its corners and began walking back to the entrance of the cave.

She found Yoongi sitting on the ground as he stoked the fire. He stood up to come greet her with a smile.

“My love, I just received this letter, but I doubt it is from Aileen. What can you tell about it?”

Yoongi grabbed the letter and sniffed it. “You are right-Aileen has never handled this; her scent is nowhere on the envelope. Actually, I suspect the person who wrote this wasn’t even human-it smells of vampire, in my opinion. You can open it-I’m sure it isn’t cursed or anything.”

And so Y/n began to read the letter aloud. The majority of the letter was information about Aileen and her kids that Y/n fervently hoped were all lies, since the alternative meant that Aileen had a stalker. But the last paragraph read, “’Listen, I have come across information about a threat to Talia. Can we meet at the Recruiters Tavern soon to discuss it? Please reply with your availability soon so we can talk in person. Thanks. Love, Aileen.’ Ok, so now I know for sure that it actually wasn’t Aileen that wrote this letter- she would have lead with the threat and left everything else out. So, there is an unknown person out there, probably a vampire, who wants to meet up with me, but asked to do so by posing as a friend of mine instead of as him or herself- oh, no.” All at once, the color drained from Y/n’s face as her entire body stiffened, so Yoongi rushed over to support her weight as he asked, “What’s happening, Y/n?”

“I believe that I know who is behind this,” she whispered. “But Aileen is arriving here any minute, so I’ll explain later.” Y/n relaxed a little into Yoongi’s embrace as his grip tightened a little. She shoved the letter in her inner coat pocket right as they both heard a knock against stone at the entrance to the cave.

“Hello?” Aileen’s whisper echoed in the cave, so Yoongi and Y/N both hurried to the entrance, holding hands.

Y/n embraced her friend as she murmured, “You’re a real one for coming so quickly, Aileen. Thank you so much, and you remember Yoongi, right?

She nodded and smiled faintly at him as she embraced her friend back. “Yes, and its refreshing to be here with you both, so I was glad to come, however heartbreaking the reason.” Aileen lead the way back into the cave to check on Talia herself, and similar to Y/n, her gaze became a little blurry at first she closely regarded her family. Meanwhile, Talia awakened and started dragging her tail across the ground in glee as she recognized Aileen.

In response, Aileen leaned her forehead against her nose and gently stroked her face with both hands. “Yeah, I’m so glad to be here with you too, baby, we’re such delinquent owners for allowing so much time to pass in-between our little play dates. How are you feeling-oh, do you need a belly rub?” Aileen asked sweetly as Talia quickly rolled onto her side while she walked around to Talia’s belly to give it a rub.

The sound that came from Aileen’s mouth at that moment is difficult to describe. However, if you imagine the sound that results when you mix a squeal of joy together with a scream of horror, you’ll probably imagine something similar. Regardless, Y/n and Yoongi rushed over to her side to figure out what was wrong, only to realize that what was wrong was about to change absolutely everything. Yoongi was obliged to support Y/n’s weight to keep her from falling, but she was absolutely sobbing the minute Talia’s stomach came into her view.

Talia was pregnant, and this meant that the babies were probably dying, too. Since Y/n could not speak coherently at all, she had the following text conversation with Aiden:

Y/n: Aiden, it’s Y/n, I apologize for the late notice but I need you to come immediately to the cave next to 4070 West Birch Street in Norfolk, Starnia, 34431. Once you are at the front door, look to the west. You’ll notice a path made of marbled stones, so follow it through the forest. Once the forest is behind you, the cave will be dead ahead and please HURRY!

Aiden: Lady, what on earth? I practically needed to pull teeth just to convince you to bring scales to a public place tomorrow, and now you are texting me the address? I charge extra for rush jobs, you know!

Y/n: SOME SICK BASTARD CURSED MY BABY EVEN THOUGH SHE’S PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!

Aiden: I’ll be there in ten minutes, so in the meantime, try to calm down as much as you can.

          As promised, Y/n heard the sound of footsteps a few minutes later as a man wearing a hooded cloak and a belt filled with unfamiliar objects hurried through the entrance. In response, Talia’ rolled over and growled uneasily, but Y/n held up a cautionary hand.

“Easy, Talia baby. This is Adrien, he’s here to save you and your babies so try to tolerate his presence here just this once, alright?”

Once Talia obediently settled down, Adrien examined Talia closely as he asked several questions, which Aileen and Y/n took turns answering. Afterward, he concluded, “Yes, I can definitively say that your friend has been cursed by a particularly malicious and meticulous sorcerer; I can’t tell anything about who they are from the aura the curse gives off. Do you have any idea who is facetious enough to do this?”

“Actually, I do.” Y/n pulled out the letter. “I just received this fraudulent letter today that I was supposed to believe was from Aileen here, but I’m positive it is not. In fact, I’m almost certain it comes from one of the vampires of the organization I was kidnapped by, the Devil’s Brigade.

In an instant, Adrien did a double take, and subsequently seized Y/n by the wrist to teleport her away to an unknown location. It happened so quickly that neither Yoongi nor Aileen even had time to protest, but Y/n sure did.

“Shut up, woman, I had no choice but to leave with you, it is obvious that our enemies know you live there. If you stop screaming, I’ll explain-no, don’t bite, I told you I’m on your side! Do you wish to be tied up and gagged, if so, continue, I will absolutely do it here and now!”

After much struggle, Adrien finally managed to wrestle Y/n against a wall as he snarled, “LISTEN!”

Y/n grew quiet.

“I’m actually head officer of the vampire department of a secret organization called the Quintessential Protection Squad, which is a secret organization that regulates the interactions between humans and the supernatural. Our purpose is to protect humans, and it just so happens that The Devil’s Brigade is our biggest enemy. So congratulations, sweetheart, you just won the wizard companion lottery until they are eliminated.”

“Release me right the fuck now! And why the drama? Why did you need to separate me from Yoongi and Aileen and Talia? I hate worrying them-“

Adrien examined his nails as he responded, “Not my problem, sweetheart. My job is to keep you safe, but your happiness or lack thereof or anyone else’s isn’t part of my job description. Besides, I figured a reunion would provide fantastic motivation to tell me everything you know, so start talking.”

Y/n glowered at him as she lunged for his cell phone, but at the last minute, he pulled his leg back out of reach. “I don’t need an incentive; I was already planning to tell you everything before I was rudely kidnapped! At least tell Yoongi what’s happening!“ “No can do, sweetheart-“

“And if you call me a condescending nickname again-“

“Consider your separation payback for making my ears bleed, Y/n”, he snapped as he massaged the side of his head. “Just tell me your story, and start with how you first became involved with the Devil’s Brigade.”

Y/n glared at him incessantly as she replied through gritted teeth, “That was back in high school. One day, our history teacher assigned a classmate named Astaroth and I a group project. We agreed to meet up at his place after school to work on the project, but neither of us ever even touched our history books. Instead, once I was at his house, he basically kidnapped me and took me to their headquarters.”

“And what was it like for you to be there?” “Oh, sunshine and rainbows, truly,” Y/n said sarcastically. “Adrien, it’s a human trafficking organization filled with misogynistic, bloodthirsty, malicious vampires. How do you imagine I was treated?”

“Just say everything you know.”

“Yes, I would love to talk to my kidnapper about my trauma while pinned against a cold wall away from my sick baby, partner, and lover.

In response, Adrien loosened his grip a little, but still kept her firmly in place. “How did it work?”

“Okay, so basically, each human that was kidnapped would be sold at a top-secret auction to the highest bidding member of the organization. After the victim was bought, she would be required to spend all her free time with her master in one of numerous villa’s located around the headquarters. At that point, the vampire could basically do whatever they wanted to her when they weren’t at school and/or work to prevent anyone from getting suspicious. Including give the victim a new name to answer to while they were with anyone in the organization. Oh, we were allowed to leave, but only for the reason that our disappearance would raise suspicions.”

“That explains why it has been so difficult to track down victims,” Adrien breathed. “Continue.”

“But my slave trader-his name was Alistair-was unique from the others, in that he allowed his victims to buy their way to freedom. The price he would charge for that was obscene-something along the lines of a quarter of a million dollars-but somehow, I managed it eventually. Once I paid him his money, he lied to the other traders and Astaroth by telling them he accidentally forced his slave to bleed to death. After that, escaping was as simple as walking through the front door in broad daylight.

“So these slave traders would force victims to spend their free time at their assigned villas with their assigned vampire?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember where the headquarters is?”

“Of course. Why do you think they are after me?”

“Well darlin, you have supplied enough pertinent information to earn a reunion,” he drawled as he snapped his fingers. And all at once, Aileen, Talia, and Suga appeared. Fortunately, the room Aiden had taken her to was gargantuan enough to fit all of them with room to spare.

A second later, Yoongi punched Aiden forcefully enough to knock him out temporarily, but not to break any bones. Y/n grinned as he pulled her tenderly into an embrace.

“I’m home, jagiya.”

Y/n smiled up at him. “Welcome home, gorgeous.”

[deathfavor]

@ofsavior said: Dazai wasn’t a romantic. He could idealize romance in his own narrative or offer something sincere to a surface level, but he wasn’t one for velvet, chocolates, and roses. Wordlessly, he enters the bar and sits beside Chuuya. He’s gone out of his way today, for once, but doesn’t make any note of it ( surprisingly ). Perhaps, because he knows they’re still at something of an impasse. Maybe something within him feels a sense of regret — not for his actions but for their consequences. Dazai laments, sighing as he rests an arm along the bar top. He doesn’t even look at Chuuya until he props his elbow and cups his cheek in his hand. “Do you want to spend tomorrow together? Or are you too angry at me?” There’s a thin line of exasperation to his questions, but he means them. “Either way, I have something to give you if you’re willing to accept it.”

   Chuuya was, at this point, rather familiar with the avalanche that would occur for Valentine’s days. Chocolates, letters, the occasional flowers ( which he was far more thrilled by than the expected chocolates ), invitations. It’s all flattering on some level. It also feels hollow and empty. Awkward at best when he gently has to let someone down. This particular bar at least offers some sort of refuge from everything today and tomorrow have. And a plus side was that it typically had his favorite years in stock.

   He’s not unaware of who sits down beside him despite the other available seats both at the bar and the tables. He merely doesn’t go out of his way to actively acknowledge Dazai either. Even if he can’t help noticing him in the periphery of his vision anyways. Not that it will ultimately do any good regardless. Chuuya knows damn well he could be staring right at Dazai and still fall for some trick he’d planned eight months ago and done in plain sight. He lifts the cup to his lips to take a drink, but hesitates at the question, caught by surprise.

  Dazai wanted to spend tomorrow with him? He lowers to glass, finally turning his head to look at Dazai suspiciously. “ You wanted to spend it with me? Not trying to woo some poor girl into your definition of a romantic double suicide? “ Chuuya lifts a brow, skepticism evident as he futilely searches Dazai’s face as if there might be clues to the real motive. Was there a mission he didn’t know about? That wouldn’t surprise him. Once he might have been thrilled. Now he knows better. Dazai’s shown it to him time and time again.

   Dazai only comes knocking when he needs something – be it entertainment or Arahabaki.

   He has suspicions of it being the latter for no other than the reason that the holiday probably has plenty of entertainment opportunities

   Chuuya finally settles on placing his cup back on the bar top, mimicking Dazai when he props his cheek up against the familiar leather of his near ever-present gloves. “ Is this actually a choice, or just an illusion of a choice? “ He asks, giving a snort. He knows Dazai too well for this. Then again, would it matter even if it genuinely was a choice? Chuuya opts to push that thought down. “ Fine. “ He points a finger at Dazai.  “  But I am not paying for some ridiculously expensive free meal for you. “

   Something to give him? Chuuya hates the way he instantly is curious, the wariness replaced with a more lively interest that brings light back to his blue eyes. If he accepts it? Again, he’s not entirely sure if it is ACTUALLY a choice. “ Alright, I’m interested. “ He squints for a second.  “  If it’s a bill or receipt though, I’m beating you black and blue. “ Because he doesn’t need his ability for that and he wouldn’t put it past Dazai to try that.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 20b

*Warning Adult Content*

Location - Part 2

- Knox -

Knox walks over to his bike and climbs on, ignoring the whispers and chuckling coming from Alvin and Gavin.

It's been clear all his brothers believe he's whipped over Everett.

Knox doesn't have the time to think about it and he isn't allowed a break when he finally makes it back to the clubhouse because Gavin calls for an emergency meeting after receiving several panicked texts from Donovan, the man in charge of running their strip club, informing him that it's been bombed to pieces.

Gavin isn't worried about the damage because insurance will fix whatever's been destroyed.

The important part is that the club isn't open on Sundays, so no one was there to get hurt.

"Russell definitely fucking knows," Gavin says after entering the basement and taking a seat at the table. "No one else would do something this bold. But if he wants to play the game like this, then we need to strike back even harder."

Everyone grunts in agreement, then Alvin makes a wild suggestion.

"What about their little construction business and the brothel? We should take both of them out."

Gavin shakes his head.

"We don't harm women, so the brothel is off limits. That place is always running anyway, so it'd be a waste of time trying to get it cleared for us to attack."

"Then we fuck up their construction business," Harry says.

"Right. I'm going to call our lawyer tomorrow and loop him in on everything because who knows what the fuck Russell is planning on doing with that footage." Gavin sighs, anxiously tapping his fingers on the table. "Mason, what's the current status with Ghost? Still nothing?"

"Ah, one second..." Mason speedily types away on his laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I got something! It looks like he used his credit card at the Mesa Hills Mall earlier today and then again at the Cupid's Stop Motel which is just outside of town."

"What the fuck is he doing this close to our territory?" Alvin questions aloud. "Why would he stick around after the bombing? This doesn't make any sense. It's like he wants us to catch him."

"This may very well be a trap, so we need to be careful about how we investigate it," Gavin says. "Once we capture Ghost, we'll be one step closer to destroying Russell and that footage."

"According to The Jackals schedule pulled from the USB, the next drop they're set to pick up is three weeks out but it's a different supplier," Mason adds. "Maybe Ghost will show up to personally see that things don't fall off the rails like what had happened with Oz. What are you thinking, Pres?"

"We're going to do the same thing that we did with Oz, so prepare yourselves for another potential battle," Gavin answers. "Now, who wants to volunteer to go scope out this motel?"

Knox still hasn't checked on Everett, so he doesn't raise his hand.

Glancing around the table at those who do, he finally notices Finn's absence.

He checks his phone to verify the text Gavin sent out to everyone about there being an emergency meeting, so Finn received it,and he should be here right now.

The fact that he isn't only confirms Knox's earlier suspicions about something having gone terribly wrong while he'd been away.

Everett and Finn might be dying in a fucking ditch somewhere for all he knows.

"I have to go."

Knox abruptly stands from the table mid-conversation, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

He gives Gavin a look that speaks a thousand words.

"I need to check on him. Something isn't right," Knox whispers urgently.

Gavin says nothing in response, only nods.

Knox storms out of the room and heads straight to Everett's bedroom.

He doesn't waste time knocking on the door.

"Shit," Knox exhales sharply. "Where the hell are you, kitten?"

Knox's stomach doubles in on itself while he scans the empty room, not missing the frantic way the drawers have been pulled open on the dresser and not pushed back in.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to conclude that Everett has run away.

The questions Knox repeatedly asks himself are Why? and Where could he have gone? as he sends out several messages to Everett and Finn while making his way upstairs to Finn's bedroom.

The door is locked, so Knox kicks it open.

Fucking empty... Did he end up chasing after Everett?

Knox is shaking by the time he makes it back to the basement to pull Mason out of the meeting.

His voice comes out rough when he speaks.

"Need you to do a quick favor for me. It's life or death."

Mason eyes light up with concern.

"Is it about the kid?"

"And Finn," Knox says. "I need to know where they both are right now. Can you track their phones? You did it for me once before. Neither are answering my texts and calls and I'm afraid... I'm thinking something bad might've happened after they left the clubhouse for whatever fucking reason."

"Of course." Mason nods. "I need my laptop, so just hang tight here."

"Finn is currently at his girlfriend's place. He's safe," Mason says, swallowing hard.

"But Everett... his, uh, last known location before he shut his phone off was at the Cupid's Stop Motel."

"What?" Knox blinks, taking a step back. "But isn't that where you said Ghost..."

"Listen to me, brother," Gavin slowly steps forward, speaking softly. "I don't know what the hell is going on here right now but I promise you we'll get your boy back safely..."

"FUCK," Knox bellows, his fist flying into a nearby wall.

He ignores Gavin's pleas to remain calm and instead spins around to march out of the room.

[santiagodeleons]

"So what are you calling the back six months then, if tomorrow is your 2024? A practice run?"

It's not a bad idea -- it's certainly a better one than mini-golf -- but Santiago doesn't share the desire to erase the first chunk of 2024 in the same way his friend seemed to. Rather unpredictably, things had been going his way for the most part, but he refrains from saying that aloud out of suspicion that he might spook it.

He's about to gloat about his ever-widening lead on the course, when he's distracted by Ben's confession, an eyebrow arched at him as he moves out of his way so he could take his next shot.

"Not with Delilah, okay. No offence, but you know that doesn't really narrow it down for me."

There's at least half a dozen possible backslidees from over the years that come to mind, ranging at different places on a spectrum of 'fuck no' to 'I can see that for you', though he reserves vocalising which until he's given a name.

He can't be too surprised that Ric let slip something he would have hoped he understood not to start flapping his lips about, but it didn't count that in the same way when it was Benji than it would if it was anyone else. There was a certain expectation that anything he told Ricardo, he was also telling him and vice versa.

"My picture, specifically," He repeats, taking a few steps back from him, teeing up his ball on the mini tee mat that was a lighter shade green than the artificial turf. He had gone with yellow for his golf ball of choice, which matched the head of the club he was using. He adjusts his stance after he sizes up the distance, winding it back and letting the shot go.

He misjudged the force behind it, his ball rolling to a stop a few centimetres in front of the hole, any easy strike in for a two tap success. Knowing better than to assume Ben would accept vagueness like he's going for, he sinks the ball with a gentle tap of the club, shrugging lightly in his direction.

"There might be someone who was previously the whole picture that's now back in it in a capacity that I'm not even all that sure of but I'm going with until we inevitably have that conversation." It's one he's certain that needs to be had, but initiating it isn't as desirable to him as the blissful ignorance that came with having Bradley back in his life and his bed. "Because I don't know how that's going to go."

@benj-hyun

CLOSED STARTER for @santiagodeleons at putt putt paradise

"I know we're about halfway through the year already, but I'm not counting this as my actual 2024 until tomorrow. Like a fresh start, and now I'm officially in the forties club with you and Ric."

Ben lines up the shot in the putt putt course, but the few bourbon shooters he had taken prior to coming in are knocking his ability to aim off kilter. It's only the seventh hole, and he is losing terribly. "Don't think I told you, but I may or may not have done a bit of backsliding recently. One time. Not with Delilah," he quickly interjects when he swings and watches his golf ball roll right over the hole and bounce off the wooden border.

"Speaking of, Ric seems to think someone might be back in the picture. Your picture, specifically. Not sure where he's pulling that from, unless he's grasping for straws because his current love life is abysmal." Ben tries again, tapping the neon green golf ball into the hole.

Four tries.

"Don't repeat that, I don't need his feelings hurt."

[mimilind]

Sent to Middle-earth - Part 3

♡ ♡ ♡  

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2500

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♡ ♡ ♡ 

3. To Rivendell

On your way to the throne room, you noticed Legolas' back straighten. Like he was bracing himself for meeting his father.

This time when entering the elegant hall, you felt less scruffy. You had bathed, and the tunic you borrowed from Legolas was still clean. And your hair probably looked nice with the braids he had made on you.

“My lord, the prisoner has escaped,” said Legolas stiffly. 

Two red spots appeared on Thranduil’s pale cheeks. “Escaped?”

“Aye. I am sorry.” Legolas told him about the orcs’ surprise attack and his suspicion it had all been planned.

Thranduil’s face looked like it was carved in ice. “How come the orcs surprised you?” His voice was controlled, like he fought hard not to yell. 

“I was not paying attention to the surroundings,” Legolas admitted. “I did not believe such a small creature could cause any trouble.” 

You wanted to tell him not to be so honest. Why not smoothing it over? That’s what you would have done.

“I see.” The frost in his voice made you shiver. “And what do you suggest I tell Gandalf? He trusted the prisoner in our care. How humiliating.”

“I am sorry,” Legolas repeated. “My guards are tracking Sméagol. With luck, they will catch him.”

Thranduil sighed, and some of the tension left his rigid form. “Well then. Since you put me in this situation, if the prisoner is not caught, you tell the wizard. Elrond should know where to find him. You will bring the news to Imladris yourself.”

Legolas bowed. “Aye, my lord.” He met your gaze. This was just what you had said. 

“Why is the human here?” Thranduil looked at you like you were something the cat had dragged in.

“I do have a name,” you said, affronted by his manners – or rather, lack thereof.

“Come.” Legolas was already halfway out of the door, obviously not wanting to stay longer than necessary.

When you had left the Elvenking’s hall, Legolas followed you to your room. He seemed a bit subdued after the row with his father.

“Why did you make it sound like it was your fault?” you asked.

“Because it was. I was in charge of my company, but instead of staying alert we shared a meal. Had I not been… busy, I might have heard the orcs sooner and prevented it.”

You felt your cheeks heat. He had been busy making braids on you. Still, he was too harsh on himself.

“Even if you had heard them sooner, you would still have to fight the orcs, and Sméagol would have escaped. It was an accident.”

He smiled weakly. “Maybe. Either way, what is done, is done. No need to dwell on it.” He politely opened your door for you. “Now, get some rest, and hopefully your hip will feel better tomorrow.”

♡ ♡ ♡

As predicted, the guards did not catch Gollum, and it was decided Legolas should carry the news of his escape to Imladris. By now, your hip had healed so well you could walk with only a cane for support, and Thranduil ordered his son to make a stop on the way and return you to the elf family where you lived. It was clear the Elvenking did not want a human in his halls longer than necessary. 

You did not complain – quite the contrary. You wanted to go, but all the way to Elrond’s realm of course. You just had to persuade Legolas it was a good idea to bring you there. 

Legolas had been busy searching for the prisoner, so you had not seen much of him since Sméagol’s escape. Therefore, when it was finally time to leave and he came to pick you up, you were both excited and a bit nervous. 

You had not gone far when a tall elf met you in the corridor. To your surprise it was Thranduil himself, coming to see his son off. You hoped they would not part as enemies, considering it would be a long while until they met again.

The Elvenking was elegantly garbed as usual, but he was not wearing his crown, and there were no courtiers following him. 

“May you have a safe journey,” he said.

“Thank you.” Legolas bowed politely.

You wanted to yell at them to not be so stiff and formal and hug each other already. You were sure they needed it.

“Do not linger too long. Deliver the message and return here as fast as you can.”

Legolas' eyes briefly flickered in your direction. “I shall try,” he said noncommittally. Did he remember you said he would join the Fellowship, and realize he might be gone for a long time?

“If you meet the wizard, do not let him talk you into another stupid scheme. I shudder to think of what he and Elrond can come up with together. Next, they will probably send us an orc to guard – or worse, a dwarf.” Thranduil paused, and his expression became softer than you had ever seen it before. “And… be careful. I only have one son, you know.”

“I will.” Legolas pressed his arm briefly. “Farewell, Father.” The look on his face made your chest feel too tight.

“Farewell, Legolas.” The Elvenking’s elegant coat billowed as he turned away, but not fast enough to hide the mist in his eyes. And then he was gone.

♡ ♡ ♡

To your pleasant surprise, it was more than easy to persuade Legolas to bring you along with him – it was even he who suggested it. 

“So far, your history books were true: Sméagol escaped, and now I am sent to Imladris. I need to know the rest of what will happen, and I am sure Elrond will want to hear it as well.”

The ride took a couple of weeks, and you used the time to tell Legolas the whole story while his accompanying guards stayed out of hearing range. 

When you had finished, you discussed at length who else to tell. Should you, for example, tell Boromir? It might save his life if you did. And should you tell the other members of the future Fellowship, to spare them the grief of Gandalf’s apparent demise? But what if they then did things differently, and it ruined the quest?

In the end, you decided it was best to first tell Elrond, who was very wise, and let him decide.

♡ ♡ ♡

Imladris, or Rivendell, as men called it, was the most beautiful place you had ever seen. Everywhere you looked were lovely gardens, flowerbeds and sparkling fountains, and the air was full of birdsong. The houses were painted in light colors, with decorative wood carvings and many balconies on ornate pillars.

Shortly after your arrival, Lord Elrond received you in his study. Just as Legolas, his movie persona was only a weak shadow of his real self. Like all elves he was very handsome, and looked neither young nor old – but there was a depth in his eyes, speaking of fathomless years and much wisdom. In addition, he seemed exceptionally kind. You instantly liked him.

After hearing your tale, Elrond was silent for a long time before speaking. As the minutes ticked by, you nervously fingered a loose thread on Legolas' tunic which you still wore. What would his decision be?

“You did the right thing to come to me with this,” he said at last. “I have pondered at length over how to proceed, and come to the conclusion it must remain a secret. As much as I regret that this means some will die, it is a war after all, and losses are expected. I cannot risk changing anything and perhaps ruin our victory. It’s a good thing only Legolas knows, who seems to have a lesser role in the coming events – if he keeps his mouth shut, the quest will proceed the way it is meant to.”

“What happens to me?”

“You stay here, of course.”

“But I–”

“You are no warrior. You will stay.” His gaze was steady and his voice firm, and you knew a lost cause when you saw one. You sighed.

His ancient eyes filled with sympathy. “Do not feel disheartened. At least you already know your friend will survive, and you shall be reunited soon.” The way he emphasized the word ‘friend’ made it clear his perceptive eyes had picked up on your feelings.

After your meeting, you went to look for Legolas, and not surprisingly found him wandering in the beautiful gardens. 

You told him what Elrond had said, and added rather glumly: “I wish I could go with you.”

“It’s a dangerous quest,” he objected.

“I already know what dangers there will be. I can stay out of trouble.”

He only smiled, and changed the subject. “It’s so beautiful here!” He swept out with his hand towards some maples, covered in multicolored autumn shrouds.

You looked at him. “Mm. Very beautiful.” You were not referring to the trees.

He glanced at you, his cheeks coloring slightly. You knew your feelings were probably written all over you, but did not care if you were obvious. He would leave soon, and you would be alone here, and he might as well know the truth before he went. 

You angrily kicked away an innocent stone from your path.

“Ai! Chin up. I know what will cheer you up,” he said, taking your hand. You enjoyed his touch, but your spirits were still down and you followed him with rather heavy feet. 

He led you to what appeared to be a larder. “I shall sneak in and grab something tasty, and then we have a nice picnic.”

When he had left, you rested your back against the wooden wall, arms crossed over your chest. You were not going to be bribed into happiness so easily. Food. Pah! 

Almost smugly, you noticed some dark clouds above the yellow and red treetops; bad weather coming in. There goes his stupid picnic!

Legolas returned with a basket and a flagon of wine. 

“It’s going to rain,” you said sourly. 

“Then we have an indoor picnic.” He took your hand again. “Come!”

Legolas brought you to the apartment Elrond had assigned him; a spacious suite with a living room, bedroom and even an indoor bathroom. Your own quarters were much simpler, but then, you were not a prince.

He took a floral blanket from his bed and spread it on the floor, and placed the basket in the middle. “There. Let’s pretend this is a beautiful lawn full of daisies!” 

His winsome smile melted away the last of your resistance, and you sat cross legged opposite to him, accepting a cup of wine and a full plate. 

“Sorry if I seem ungrateful,” you said, nibbling a piece of dried fruit.

“I understand. Truly, I wish it were different.” His gaze met yours. “I shall miss you.”

“It’s worse for the one left behind.”

“I imagine it is.”

You ate and drank in silence for a while. The sound of rain on the window mingled with sweet music in the distance; perhaps coming from the Hall of Fire in the adjacent building. 

The room was growing dark, and Legolas lit a wax candle. In its flickering light he was almost ethereally handsome; his eyes dark and deep as the ocean, and his blonde strands glowing like molten gold. 

He sidled closer to you, and you mimicked his maneuver, and soon there was no distance left. 

Tentatively you took his hand, and traced the lines inside his palm with your finger. He shivered, and your eyes met. Catching your hand, he kissed it, his gaze still locked in yours. The air around you felt thick and charged with power.

You could not have said who started it, but suddenly your faces were very close and your lips met. It only lasted a moment before both retracted a bit, making sure the other was willing to continue. Clearly you were. 

This time he cupped your cheek, stroking it while kissing you deeper than before, and you felt his tongue tentatively touch your lower lip. You opened your mouth and allowed him in, while burying your fingers in his soft hair. 

He touched your ear again, and his lips left your mouth to kiss it lightly. Then he trailed a series of pecks down your neck.

“I thought…” you began, but broke off when he reached your collarbone. It felt so good, and you drew in a breath. 

“Thought what?” His voice was husky.

“I thought you could not do this. That it means… Means…”

He stilled his motions, his lips still on your neck. “Actually… it does, and I shouldn’t.” 

You wished you had not said anything, but to your relief you felt him kiss your collarbone again, and his hand slid around to stroke your back. 

Pulling up his tunic, you explored his smooth skin underneath, and felt him do the same on you. Your heart was beating fast, and by now both of you were becoming a bit breathless.

You got a crazy idea, and your mouth decided to speak it out loudly: “If we were married Elrond might let me join the quest.”

He was nipping your earlobe and his voice tickled your ear as he replied: “I think not.”

“Then I could sneak out and follow you. He can’t lock me in, can he?” You undid the top button of his tunic, and the next one.

Cupping your cheek, he held you out so he could look you in the eye. “Are you serious?”

“Of course! I don't want to be left behind.”

“I meant… about marriage.” 

“Oh.” Were you serious? What you were doing right now was basically the equivalent of starting the walk down the aisle. If you went all the way with Legolas, then according to elvish customs he would be your husband. Forever. Did you want that?

Yes. Yes of course! You wanted Legolas, body and soul. You wanted to be married to him.

“I’m serious,” you said earnestly, taking his hand and pressing it.

You could not quite interpret his expression as he met your gaze, but then the corner of his lip turned up. “My father will kill me.” He bent forward and kissed you lightly. “First I leave on a lengthy and dangerous mission – quite opposite to his instructions – and then I return with a human spouse.”

“So you say yes, then?” You heard your voice tremble.

“I do.” He scooped you up in his arms, and carried you into the bedroom. “I do,” he repeated, placing you on the bed and sealing his words with a deep, eager kiss. 

Filled with a joy so strong you thought you might burst, you hungrily kissed him back. 

And thus you were wed like elves sometimes are, without betrothal ceremonies or rings – just the two of you, and the union of your bodies.

♡ ♡ ♡

The final, optional part will not be safe for work. ;)

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[pinkiee]

mine

pairing: yandere!San x fem!reader

themes: mentions of cheating, manipulation, kidnapping, stalking (?), light mentions of physical and mental abuse, angst, use of profanity, MDNI

wc: 2071 words  (might have gotten carried away)

a/n: sorry this took so long. This is not proofread yet, so apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I used Harin again because I couldn’t think of any new ones, i’m sorry.😞😞

As the door clicked open, a sleepy ____ woke up from the sofa. She looked up to see San, her boyfriend of almost 2 years, walking in, his shirt a mess and hair disheveled. 

“Where were you?” ____ asked coldly.

“I was at work.” 

____ did not believe him one bit. She stood up and walked towards him. As she walked closer, she smelled something. Perfume. Not anything she ever wore or anything San ever wore, not that he wears perfume. Taking a closer look, his crumpled shirt at a bright pink lipstick stain on its collar.

____ could not believe her eyes, she pulled the collar closer to get a better look. San stood there, angered. He still didn’t know that he was wrong, and with his tired state, he couldn’t help but get irritated at ____, he just wanted to sleep now.

“What do you want?” San asked with annoyance in his voice while pushing her away.

“Who?”

San looked at her confused, “huh?”

“Who did you sleep with?” ____ repeated.

“No one. What’s with you. I’m tired, can we talk about this tomorrow?” San replied as he started walking to the bathroom.

“No! You’ve been coming home late, looking like you just fucked someone all the damn time. And now that I caught you with evidence, you want to get irritated with me?!” _____ shouted, pissed at her boyfriend.

“I’m fucking tired ok?! I work all day and when I come back, you’re always busy. At least Harin gave me her attention.” He said while rolling his eyes, letting the name slip on accident.

____ took a step back, hands covering her mouth, “Ha-Harin?”

“Yeah, your beloved bestie.” San replied sarcastically.

A million thoughts went through ____’s head. 

When did it all start? Why? 

Does he still love me?

“Why? Do you still love me?” The question slipped.

San scoffed. “Love? With you, I haven’t felt that in a while with you.”

Tears welled up in ____’s eyes. 

“Then why stay with me? Go with her then. Let’s just end this shit. Fuck you.” _____ walked towards the table, taking the now cold soup, and splashed it all over San, eyes showing both sadness and anger. She then grabbed her things and left, slamming the door loudly.

San groaned at the mess, rolling his eyes, being annoyed at the mess that HE now has to clean.

Fucking annoying bitch. Thank god she’s gone.

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

~ one week later ~ 

San regretted everything. From the day after he had woken up up to now. He regretted every single thing that happened that night. He had slept with Harin a few times and always thought that it was nothing more than just sex, however, after hearing their breakup, Harin immediately threw herself onto San. (some friend she is🙄🙄) After the breakup, spending time with Harin made San realise how much he actually still longed for ____. Realising his mistake, San immediately tried to win ____ back. 

After the events that night, ____ ran towards Harin’s house subconsciously. Seeing her house not far away, she suddenly slowed down. She remembered everything that happened and started running to the next person she knew she could trust, Hongjoong. He was her best friend from work and they were also close outside of work. Hongjoong had tried talking to ___ about his suspicions of Harin but ____ brushed it off. Now, ____ realised how dumb she was. After catching a cab, she called him, still holding in her tears.

Hongjoong took care of her for the next week. She was so depressed she couldn’t even get out of the guest room bed. She was so upset that she just called in sick for that week. Seeing her in that state, Hongjoong made sure to take care of all her needs and always be there for her. Over the week, she improved slightly, just enough to get out of bed and go to work, but not enough to socialise. 

~ operation win ___ back: day one ~

Work was finally over, ____ was tired. She was thankful for Hongjoong always being by her side whenever someone came up to talk to her. She had no energy to socialise and just wanted to work. 

As she left the office building, a familiar person walked up to her. ____ panicked and grabbed onto Hongjoong’s arm.

Seeing this, San’s veins popped. He still walked up to her to hand her a bouquet of her favourite flowers. Noticing _____’s facial expressions, Hongjoong pulled her behind him.

“Dude, she doesn’t want you here. Leave.” 

“This is none of your business. Stay out of this. Did she tell me to leave?” San replied rudely.

“Hongjoong, let’s just go.” ____ mumbled.

“San please leave.” She gathered her courage and looked him in the eye.

Hearing that, San felt defeated. He took the flowers and left.

~ day two ~

The same thing happened again. San waiting for ____ outside her office building, but this time, with her favourite snacks.

____ told him the same thing, despite how much she wanted to hug him and take him back. She knew Hongjoong would not approve and it was all for her own good. 

The week spent with Hongjoong made ____ realise how toxic her relationship with San had gotten over the past few months. Hongjoong helped her feel better and helped her understand that staying away from San was for her own good.

-----

This went on for months. San would always wait outside ____’s office building with some of her favourite things only to see her with Hongjoong happily and be rejected by her.

San started to get irritated. His efforts would always go to the trash or just be eaten. He started to get impatient. And one day he finally snapped.

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

It was the same routine again, but this time, ____ had finished work late while Hongjoong had finished slightly earlier. However, Hongjoong decided to go back to the office to fetch ____. (what a good friend)

As usual, San was outside the office building holding ____’s favourite chocolates. He was wondering why she was taking so long, it was already 9:30, ____ normally ends work at 7:00.

As he stood at his usual corner waiting, he saw a familiar car pull up. Hongjoong stepped out of his car as ____ stepped out of the office building. San immediately grabbed her wrist. 

“____, enough is enough. Just come back.” He said, grabbing onto her wrist tighter, that would definitely leave a mark.

____ tried pulling her hand out of his grasp but to no avail, “San... Let me go.” She struggled. 

San then tried dragging her to his car, but was stopped by Hongjoong.

Hongjoong knew that San would be waiting for her and told her beforehand to wait inside and he would come to get her, ensuring her safety.

“Let her go man. You guys are done.” Hongjoong said, grabbing hold of your other wrist.

San’s eyes shifted. They showed anger, hatred and the look of murder. He let go of he hand, dropping the chocolate as well. San’s face darkened.

“Joong!! San, WHAT THE HELL?!?!” ____ screamed.

San’s fist collided with Hongjoong’s face and he fell. ____ quickly knelt down to help him. 

“What? Does he fuck you better?” 

____ couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Are you insane? We BROKE UP! Fuck off San! Go to your beloved Harin.” ____ mocked, referencing his previous argument.

San ignored her and started to beat Hongjoong up. ____ was trying her best to pull her ex away from his friend.

“San! Enough!”

San turned around to face ____, his face showing nothing but insanity. He had lost his sanity over the past few months without her. As she was getting better, he was spiraling down to madness.

San grabbed her wrist tightly and the fallen chocolate and dragged her towards his car. He slammed her onto his car, caging her between his (strong) arms. 

“You’re MINE! You hear that slut. YOU agreed to the break up. I did not”

Looking past his shoulders, ____ saw Hongjoong trying to stand up. She wanted to go and help.

“Leave and I will make sure he never wakes up again.” San threatened.

____ Stood frozen in her spot. San smirked and planted a kiss and her cheek. 

“Now get in the car and we can get back to how we were. Ok, babe?”

___ nodded in fear, getting in the car. As San drove off, she made eye contact with Hongjoong and mouthed a ‘sorry’.

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

“I’m sorry for the mess babe. I was a little upset when you left.”

The whole room was in a state of chaos, it looked like a hurricane caused it.

Suddenly, _____’s phone rang. She picked it up to see Hongjoong calling here. She wanted to pick it up, when from behind, San took her phone and broke it.

“I’ll get you a new one.” He said nonchalantly.

“Now...” He said lowly while walking towards her, a smirk plastered on his face.

Her back hit a wall and he pinned her to it. He began to kiss her neck and face. When he tried to kiss her lips, she turned her face. He forcefully turned fer face back and kissed her.

Breaking off the kiss, he planted a light kiss onto her cheek. 

“I’ll get your clothes ready. Go take a bath.” He said sweetly.

___ rolled her eyes and walked to the bathroom. San did not like her attitude and pulled her towards him by the wrist.

“Listen here, I don’t like that snappy attitude you have there. Get. Rid. Of. It. Or your little friend will get it. Hear that?”

Not wanting Hongjoong to get hurt again because of her, she complied and thanked San before walking to the bathroom.

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

The next day, Hongjoong found out ____ had quit. Or more like San forced her to quit. 

“I can pay for all our expenses baby. You can quit. I’ll give you a comfortable life.” 

It was more of a threat. ____ feared what San would do to her and Hongjoong if she didn’t comply, hence she quit her job.

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

Ever since ____ was kidnapped, she would never be let out of the house. She must always be at home and if she wanted to go out, San must be there. Whenever San got home, he would show her love, while ____ would fake a smile and pretend to be affectionate. And whenever ____ were to act out of place, San would punish her, hit her with his belt, slap her, lock her in the room without food or water, kick her or punch her. Everyday before he left for work, he would remind her why Hongjoong never came to look for her.

“You’re nothing without me baby. Don’t forget, the only person that loves you is me. What happened to that pathetic friend of yours? He doesn’t care, he never tried to find you. Only I care about you.”

Eventually, ____ let his words get to her. She began to believe Hongjoong didn’t actually care for her. She thought only San cared for her.

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

One day, when San returned home. He went to the kitchen to prepare the food he had bought when suddenly he felt someone hug him from behind. Said person hid her face into his back mumbling “I missed you”.

Seeing her actions, San was shocked. He turned around. Seeing her in drowning in his shirt and in her panties, San wanted to fuck her right there and then.

“This is something new. What’s wrong baby.” He hugged back.

____ nuzzled her face into his chest, “I just really missed you.”  

San thought he had finally won her back, but he was cautious. He wanted to test if he really had won her back.

“Hongjoong came to my office today.”

She didn’t seem to be bothered. She continued nuzzling her face into his chest.

“I don’t care about him.” ___ whined.

“I need to now.” She looked up at him with her doe eyes and a desperate look on her face.

Seeing her face, he proceeded to kiss her. Forgetting about dinner, they spent the whole night in their room having fun. San felt bliss seeing how desperate ____ was for him and his dick, both fucking like there was no tomorrow.

One thing was for sure, San had won. 

[isbergillustration]

Getting friendly :) Ft. the chapter from last week because i have yet to start the one due tomorrow;

«What’s your name?» 

It’s taken John months to ask, first because it didn’t occur to him, later because he felt awkward about not doing so sooner. 

NAME? 

«Yeah, your name. Mine's John.» 

Some of the creature's eyes narrow. 

JOHN 

«Yeah, I’m John. My  name is John. And what is your name?» 

JOHN 

John sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, nails scraping his scalp. It was getting too long. 

«Okay. Do you want to be John too?» 

JOHN 

It seemed this was as far as he was going to get. 

- 

«That’s ten fifteen, please. I- ten fifteen. No, you don’t have to- okay, then. Thank you, have a good night.» 

The old lady who looked at him with a suspicion that felt unearned left, the bell over the door sounding its muted alarm. John leaned against the counter. The light above him was bright, too bright, and he could not see anything beyond the reflected shelves beyond the windows. Nothing existed outside this tiny shop, and the very occasional customer. Outside it was dark. The sun would not rise until hours after his shift ended, by which time he would be dead to the world.  

The shop was a small one, only the sorts of products for which one might run down the street, having forgotten them earlier. Most of his customers were other late workers, or students staying up too late to study. They had an entire branded fridge dedicated to energy drinks.  

The bell chimed, low but still painfully pitched, and he looked at the door. It had not moved. Instead, when he turned back, he saw the thing. The creature. John Junior? Or senior, if it was older than him. Probably it had to be? The idea that it was not felt somehow upsetting to him, as if it conferred onto him some sort of responsibility.  

It barely even startled him now, when it appeared. But. But he had not seen it here before. He glanced at the camera. So did nearly twenty eyes.  

«What are you doing here?» he hissed, though the camera did not record sound. 

He angled himself so as not to look as if he were speaking. Probably no one would ever check this tape, and he thought they were deleted automatically after a while, but he couldn’t be sure. Whether or not the thing had been caught on film it would be too late to do anything about it now. Still, he felt his heart beat in his wrists.  

Oh. Oh unless it was here to protect him again. Maybe the shop was about to be robbed? People would definitely check the tape then. Shit. He looked around. Could he barricade the door? No. Someone sufficiently determined would find their way in, and he was not about to pay for any damages or losses. He didn’t make enough here for that. He- 

The bell chimed, and was this time followed by a gust of cool air. Then, an almost familiar face. 

«River?» 

She gave him a tired smile. It was, after all, nearing four am, though time seemed less real in his fluorescently bright bubble. Her dark hair was pulled back, and she had a long scarf wrapped several times around her. She looked around. 

«Huh. I thought I saw someone in here with you?» 

He glanced around. The thing was gone.  

«Nope, just me.» 

He sounded less confident than he wanted to. The back of his neck prickled. 

«You all right? Bit far from home, aren’t you?» 

They were half an hour's tram ride from the apartment building.  

«Staying at my girlfriend’s.» 

She wandered around the shelves, occasionally disappearing from view, picking up a couple of things before dumping them on the counter. Instant noodles, a bag of coffee, some pain killers. 

«Wild night of romance?» he asked, scanning her items and giving her his employee discount. 

She laughed, but it sounded hollow. As he bent down to get her a bag he noticed gold dust across the back of his hand. It did not come off when he brushed it. He pulled his sleeve down. 

«No. Helping Max look for a new job.» 

«Shit,» said John, «she get fired?» 

«Something like that. Stressful as hell.» 

«Oh, yeah, I get that. Hope she finds something.» 

«Me too. Rent’s bad in this part of town.» 

She took the bag with a quick thank you, and turned. 

«Oh, hey, you’ve got- looks like a feather in your scarf?» 

He had vague memories of being a child and getting told off by his dad for picking up stray feathers. Something about parasites. He only retained the vague idea that touching them was bad. 

«What? Oh- again.» 

She gingerly picked it free and leaned over the counter to drop it into the bin. 

«Again?» 

«I fed some birds a couple of times and now I think they’re following me.» 

«Oh,» he said, «yeah. I’ve heard they do that I think. Crows and things. Looks like that. Well, okay, well I’ll see you.» 

She called goodbye and disappeared into the void of the outside. A few browning leaves had drifted in through the door, and they crunched without anything seeming to have stepped on them.  

- 

The stain would not come off. He scrubbed it in the sink at work, then at home, then doused his hand in hand sanitiser. Nothing. Not even any gold flakes in the sink. What the fuck? The implications were bad. Some permanent stain from his connection to the creature? No. No it had to be like that kind of persistent paint or ink, the stuff that stained your skin for days before wearing off. Something like that, it had to be. It had to be. 

«Where are you,» he demanded of thin air, «when I need you to fucking answer me?» 

Not there, it seemed.  

It took him ages trying to fall asleep. It always did, these days, but this morning felt particularly bad. At last as the sun started to creep in through allegedly black out curtains he drifted off. 

The next day it was still there. He scrubbed until his skin hurt, and then exfoliated for good measure, but it made no difference. In the end he stuck a plaster over it. That ought to do until it went away. Ought to hide it. 

Later that afternoon he thought about why hiding it felt so important to him. If it was real, and everything pointed to it being real, then having someone else confirm it would be an immense relief. It would mean he wasn’t crazy, wasn’t talking to himself. But then, the possibility of it being all in his head was a sort of lifeline of hope, too. It meant he didn’t quite have to adjust his understanding of the world and reality yet.  

He had considered telling River. They weren’t very close friends, but she seemed receptive to this sort of thing. She had shown him her collection of crystals and threatened to read his fortune in tarot cards. He didn’t know, though, how much was affectation and aesthetics and how much was true belief. And proof was hard. He had taken a photo of the creature, early on, but it didn’t photograph well, and the picture had gone missing a short time later. He kept losing track of things lately.  

The cleanliness of his apartment had begun to decline some time ago. Not from intentional neglect, but because John would begin to vacuum the floor, full of good intentions, and suddenly realise he had been sitting on the floor, back against the sofa, staring at his phone, the vacuum abandoned halfway through the task. A third of his laundry would make it into a closet, the rest would lie unfolded on a chair. Mugs of crusty dried coffee made it as far as the counter next to the sink, but no further. Everything was too much, was the thing. And it simply kept growing. 

- 

John went out into the woods. He was not an outdoorsy person, but he had the vague idea that looking at trees was meant to be good for you, and therapy waitlists were six months long. He caught a bus, and took it as far out of town as the local routes would go, up into the hills surrounding the city on three sides. If there were fewer trees he would have had a great view of the ocean, but thick pines made the path as dark and enclosed as the alleys in the city. 

The air was fresh, too fresh, cold and stinging and making his eyes run. In his pockets were a couple of müesli bars and a thermos full of coffee which would, if history was any judge, imbue the coffee with an unsubtle metallic flavour. He was as prepared as he could get, he thought, until he within five minutes of leaving the bus stop accidentally stepped in an ankle high puddle with his very much not waterproof sneaker. He stared down at his wet foot with helpless resignation. 

The woods were cold, but the path went uphill, and soon he was that combination of clammy and sweaty and cold which usually kept him away from this sort of activity. It was too late in the year for insects. This, at least, was a mercy. It was oddly quiet out here. Usually he would hear birds he could not identify, the scurrying of squirrels or other little critters in the dead leaves by the side of the path, but there was nothing. Nothing yet. 

At the top of a hill, where there was something like a clearing, he took a rest. More of the cloud filtered grey light managed to reach the ground here, and a tree had been felled and laid across one side to serve as a sort of bench. By the time he had got his coffee poured into the lid mug, the angel thing was sitting next to him. Of course it was. Its hands were placed in its lap, and though it still appeared not to have a body, just a barely not hollow pliable exoskeleton of gold, it managed to sit awkwardly.  

“Why are you doing this to me?” 

It did not answer. Its head, or hood, or whatever it was which had the eyes, was turned up to the bright grey skies. On impulse, John leaned against the thing, and found it to be surprisingly soft.  

JOHN 

“Yeah?” 

SAFE 

“Good to know.” 

They stayed like that for a while, and John managed not to think about what was happening. Just that he was as comfortable as you get outside in the woods, and how the coffee might be giving him some sort of metal poisoning. After a little while, he felt a hand on his shoulder. The thing had hands the colour and feel of a bog body or mummy. Hardened skin like bark tight around the bone. If anything it had could be described as bone or skin at all. He wondered idly whether it would kill him if he painted its hard blackened nails sparkly gold to match.