#‘don’t make me do this’ a third plea. why won’t his old friend take the hint? how far does Wukong need to go for his friend to understand?

[fluffypotatey]

Have we considered that Wukong's "don't make me do this!" is in fact, not because HE would ever think "welp, that's a darn shame. I have to kill you now." But rather, "Macosmo flower of my heart, pls stop being so freaking stupid bc I have a sworn duty to my Master and also the excruciating force of this circlet if you don't stop acting Macalooney I will have no choice but the literal will of heaven and the earth requiring me to kill you to put an end to what they all see as a worthless demon. I don't want to take the next step that will put my duty over how much you're my beloved other half, don't put that burden on me, stop please-"

oh yeah 100%

fighting Macky was also an internal battle between his loyalties. he still cared and love Mac but Mac hurt his Master (someone he may not have liked in the beginning but grew to care for despite their many disputes). it’s possible Mac even tried to kill Tripitaka, and that was something Wukong could not allow

the fact that if resulted in Mac’s death was not the plan. but, you know, Wukong has a tendency to pull a harder punch more than others

maybe he hoped Macky understood this and would stop. maybe, he thought, after leveling a mountain range, Macky would stop and leave them alone

but he didn’t

[sunnysviolin]

Oh god that. That shattered AU broke me. Kel angst is my new horrible addiction and I swear I. I need to know... wtf happens with him and Hero. I can see so vividly Hero trying to keep the last semblance of his old brother back but it just fails every time, literally the only reason Hero is trying to continue on is because he doesn't want to leave Kel behind, that he made a promise and he was going to stick to it. So I must ask... does Kel kill himself as well? Or even accidentally? My heart h u r t s pardner..... sad yeehaw

Welllll we know the answer to the last part of that ask, but I do want to continue this series, so I’m gonna use the one ask that I have about it. Before anything I will say like I always do with Shattered AU that this is a dark AU. There is no happy endings, and pay attention to the TWs. 

TW: Suicide, TW: Depression, TW: Major Character Death, TW: Rage, TW: Grief

Dear Hero, 

No one else wrote a letter, but I couldn’t do that to you. I know that you spent so much time wondering if you could have done anything different for everyone else. I want you to know you couldn’t have done anything different for me

Hero had begged his parents to be allowed to stay. He had begged and pleaded to take the semester off. It was just one semester, he was still going to graduate early at this rate, why couldn’t he just stay? Hero knew Kel needed him. Kel might not be opening up, but being with Hero seemed to be comforting for his little brother at the very least. Hero knew that if he had more time, he could crack through Kel’s shell and try to start healing what was inside.

I remember when Mari died. You were so tired and upset. I didn’t get it then, but I do now. I know that when you get tired like this it’s hard to do anything. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to think, it’s just all so hard. I probably didn’t make it any easier by pretending everything was fine. I understand why you snapped at me. 

Hero’s parents had practically thrown him onto the train. They reassured him over and over that they could take care of Kel. They would keep an eye on him, they would make sure he took his meds, and ate, and got to school on time. They said this all while rolling their eyes and giving him good natured sighs. They both acted like this was something they were used to, but Hero knew this was different. When this had happened to him, they had left him to find his own way back. He wouldn’t let that happen to Kel, mostly because Hero wasn’t sure Kel would find his way back. 

Right before you left for school you told me you always felt guilty for not coming back that night. I want you to know that even if you had, I would still be doing this.  

They had forced Hero back to school, but it didn’t matter. Hero couldn’t think about school at all. All he could think about was how to help Kel. He ignored his classes in favor of reading about recovering after loss, he didn’t bother to study anything except what might help him get through to his brother. There wasn’t anything more important than Kel right now, and if he was being completely honest, there was a part of Hero that was spitefully going to fail the semester just to prove to his parents how wrong they were. Above all, Hero called Kel every single night. Their phone calls last year had been frequent, but short. Usually just a quick fifteen minute chat updating each other on their days. Now their phone calls lasted hours and hours, and mostly consisted of Hero rambling on while Kel hummed and made one word answers. It wasn’t perfect, but it was important. 

You were why I didn’t do this yet, even though it’s been on my mind for years. First Mari, then Basil, then Sunny. How could I ever do that to you, when I knew what it felt like to be in your shoes? You were trying so hard to help me, you’re still trying so hard. You call and you call and you always want to listen. I’m sorry I don’t want to talk. 

For the first time, Kel didn’t pick up the phone. His parents said Kel was sleeping, and they could talk tomorrow. Hero’s stomach dropped, and his mind went fuzzy. He needed to be there, he needed to see Kel. If he couldn’t hear Kel’s voice, then he needed to see his little brother to know he was still alive. He must’ve said the last part out loud, because his mother was adamant that he stay at school. She was so sure that both of her sons needed to get back to their normal routines, that the way to get things to normal was to force them to be that way. Hero knew better. He knew Kel needed him. He hung up on his parents, pacing back and forth with shaking hands. He didn’t know what to do. It was too late for a train, and he didn’t have a car. Hero just didn’t know what to do. 

I know you’re trying, and I hope you know I was trying too. I really was, I promise. It’s just...it’s too much. It’s all too much I’m just done. I’m done trying, and I’m done waiting for things to get better when I know they won’t. I don’t see the point anymore. I’m going to die regardless, so why should I go through fifty more years of feeling like this, only to get to the same end? 

Hero grabbed his shoes, running out of the dorm room and across campus to his friend’s midnight study group. They had started doing this for their organic chemistry class in their first year and then kept it up because midnight was the only time that the library truly was quiet enough to get work done. He hadn’t joined them in weeks, and he wasn’t sure they would even consider him a friend anymore, but Hero needed their help. One look at his wild desperate eyes and his pleas, and Tristan was grabbing his keys and handing them to Hero. It was an eight hour car ride, nine and a half because he hit traffic. It was nine in the morning when Hero got home and found the letter on his bed. When they found Kel, the police told him and his parents that Kel had most likely died early that morning, around 7:30 or 8:00. Hero was sure if he had just been an hour faster in making his decision to come home, then Kel might still be here. 

I know it’s going to hurt you, I know that I’m being selfish, but like I said. It’s just too much now. I don’t know if I believe in God or anything. I don’t know what kind of God makes everything that happened to us happen, but if there is a God out there, I hope he lets us all be together when this is all over. We can go for a picnic by the pond like we used to. That’s where I’m going now. That seems like a good place.

He waited until the police left to speak to his parents. He didn’t even mean to start fighting with them, but there was no way he couldn’t. He had started off just talking, trying to ask them why they hadn’t listened to him when he had known. They refused to hold themselves accountable. That’s why he had ended up in a screaming match with his mother. That had to be why rage was boiling in his veins and clouding his thoughts. Hero had begged them to let him stay. Hero had told them Kel needed him. They hadn’t listened, and now his brother was dead. His brother, the love of his life, his friends, all of them gone. Kel was all he had left, and they had taken him away. 

I did love you. I did. I promise I did. This doesn’t mean I didn’t love you.

Hero took the letter and the keys to Tristan’s car. He didn’t need to stay, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t care that his mother was wailing about losing her boy, he didn’t care that his father was trying to get him to come sit and be with them. He just didn’t care. The only person he had left to care about was gone, because Hero hadn’t been there. He wasn’t going to go to another funeral, he wasn’t going to see them lower his little brother into the ground. He wasn’t going to continue the endless loop of torture that his life seemed to have on repeat. 

I’m sorry, Hero. I hope you can forgive me. Maybe this is for the best. Now you don’t have to worry about me anymore.

Hero walked down his driveway to his borrowed car, ignoring his parent’s calling behind him. There, right where the pavement met the road, was Aubrey. Her hair was messy all around her, her eyes bloodshot. The police had told him she was there when they arrived. They had questioned her, but after reading Kel’s note, they were sure she hadn’t been involved. Hero could have told them that himself, but it seemed no one believed that he knew anything. Maybe they were right. She asked him if he was leaving. She asked if he was coming back. His silence was response enough. She walked away before he could say anything, and that was good. Hero didn’t have anything to say anymore. 

Maybe I’ll see you again. 

There was really only one road out of Faraway these days. The construction around town left all the exits blocked off. Hero had memoized the route to and from his college almost a year ago, just to be safe. He had to take the third right to get on the highway. Hero drove past the third right. If he missed the third right, he could take the next left and turn around. He ignored the left. Hero drove straight until he couldn’t drive straight anymore, and then on a whim he took the right turn. He wasn’t sure where he was going exactly, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore. 

[ohnococo]

A Mess | Zeke x F!Reader x Reiner

Summary: You and Zeke sleep together from time to time, even though he knows Reiner has a thing for you. Eventually he decides to do something about it. (MODERN AU)

Warnings: Sleazy Zeke, Sex, Cumshots, Threesome, FWB

MINORS DNI/18+ ONLY UNDER THE CUT

Zeke had this innate ability to just make things messy in a way that favored him perfectly. He’d done it with you - starting out as friends with benefits and progressing that into something a little more shameless that had your whole friend group seeming a little tense about you two potentially dating, knowing none of Zeke’s trysts lasted long. He was doing it again now, albeit this one had been a much slower build up. He’d been stoking this fire from before the two of you had even begun fucking, in fact.

He saw the way Reiner always looked at you, the schoolboy crush he’d harbored from way back when he was, well, an actual schoolboy. Except now he was very much a grown man and was very much still squandering every opportunity he’d had to get with you.

Zeke knew what Reiner was like, what reservations and morals the younger man had that he certainly did not share. When Zeke had finally made the move to kiss you in front of your friends - or rather next to them while you were all on the couch during a movie - Reiner hadn’t been pushed into action. No pulling you aside for a sudden confession of love, or plea to give him a chance. Instead, Reiner seemed to decide that instead of it being now, it was going to be never. The idea of two long-time friends of a close knit group dating was already a bit awkward for everyone, you all were never the type for love triangles and unnecessary drama, there was no way Reiner would add an attempt to date you to that awkwardness. A girl dating one of her old guy friends is one thing, romantic even if it all works out, but a girl dating two - meaning most - of her guy friends leaves a bad impression. That’s what Zeke figured Reiner had reasoned, at least.

Messy bitch that he is though, Zeke decided to test Reiner’s resolve at being the noble martyr, tortured by his unrequited love that was all his own doing. Maybe he would lighten up a bit more too. So Zeke did small things to set the wheels in motion, making plans with the two of you to play a board game or watch a show then finding some excuse to leave suddenly half way through. Pretending to be much more drunk than he is while setting you on Reiner’s lap at a party, exaggeratedly slurring out, “Keep an eye on her while I go piss. She’s a wily one.”

Through it all Reiner was respectful as ever: hands to himself except for sliding you off his lap to take his seat while he stood and waited for Zeke to return, never even entertaining making a move on you. It drove Zeke up a fucking wall, especially when Reiner would end the nights he’d been stranded at your house (while Zeke feigned some sudden need to pick up Eren and drop him off at his dorm) with a text to Zeke at a nauseatingly sensible 9:30.

Reiner: Hey just got home. hope Eren’s didn’t puke in your car again lol

Reiner was big, Reiner was beefy, and Reiner was a fucking coward. Zeke didn’t know why he cared so much. Maybe because he was always trying to show his friends he was better than them in some way or another and Reiner had just taken it on the chin. Maybe it was because he felt a little bad for fucking around with someone who had been a dear friend, he didn’t intend for this to go anywhere after all, and Reiner did really like you. Zeke would never admit it if it was indeed the second one, though, so he just decided to get messier.

It was easy enough with the three of you being the only ones in the group to have the shared interest of board games. So he invited you both over to his place to try out a new game he’d gotten. You and Reiner chalked up Zeke’s smug demeanor to him showing off another overly-complicated board game he’d surely win despite playing it for the first time. Really, it was the undeniable feeling that tonight would be fun keeping Zeke in such high spirits.

One game in - that Zeke won of course - and he’d already managed to coax Reiner into drinking. Just a beer to start the game, then one more to keep it going. He wasn’t getting wasted by any means, not a man his size, but Zeke knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t have a third beer and drive. So while Reiner set the board up to start again, Zeke gave him another beer, clearing the table of old drinks and setting the new one down casually enough that his friend wasn’t even thinking about how he’d get home after finishing off the new drink.

The game went by, Reiner went through another bottle, and as Zeke was satisfied with winning again he decided to bring this part of the evening to a close.

“I’ve had enough of winning for tonight. The two of you will have to have a 1v1 on your own sometime to catch up with me.” Zeke teased, packing away the little pieces.

Reiner is quick to respond, “Pretty cocky for a guy who still can’t win at Sorry.”

Zeke takes the bait, only because he wants Reiner feeling confident for later. “Only because that game is pure luck.”

“Sure it is.” Reiner stands and stretches, grabbing his bottle to put with Zeke’s recycling. “Anyway, I should head out now, it’s getting late.”

“Not after four beers you shouldn’t.” You warn, Zeke can’t hide the way the corners of his mouth turn up, you did always pay awfully close attention to Reiner, didn’t you?

“Shit, you’re right - mind if I stay in your guest bedroom?”

Zeke shrugs, no stranger to having one of his friends crashing at his house, “Go right ahead.”

“Thanks.”

-

Zeke is quick to get you alone, and you only half push him away as he begins kissing at the spot on your neck that has heat building in your stomach as soon as you’re both in his bedroom. He’d made sure to leave his door cracked, and made sure to pick you up and lie you down on the bed before you noticed. As you sigh at his touch he decides he’s waited long enough for the main event, pulling your pants and underwear off in one rough motion and burying his face between your legs.

“Zeke, stop it.” He knows your protests are hollow, your hands coming down to tangle in his hair rather than push him away. His tongue works its way gently but purposefully through your folds, just barely brushing over your clit before working his way back to tease at your entrance. Your moan is only half out before you’re clasping your hands over your mouth, looking down at him and laughing. “At least wait until Reiner’s asleep.”

He smirks up at you and makes a deal, knowing you don’t understand the full extent of it and know he won’t be losing anyway. “If he’s not asleep in ten minutes, that’s his problem.”

You think for a moment, biting your lip, but as he locks his lips around your clit you’re not really in a position to protest as you rock your hips up against his face.

Zeke goes easy on you, sort of, he refrains from sliding his fingers in your tight little hole while he laps at your swollen clit - and he at least listens when you ask him to slow down for a second, giving you the chance to catch your breath and keep yourself from getting to the point where you can’t control the noises you make, but you were still getting steadily louder. The ten minutes go by slowly for the both of you, as Zeke teases at your most sensitive spots, until you’re glistening beneath him. His wait is over as he kisses his way up your body, pulling your shirt up and off as he goes until his lips meet yours.

“It’s time.”

You’re too far gone to pick up that hint of something else in Zeke’s voice as he flips you over so you’re on your stomach facing the door and he’s quickly in place behind you, pulling you onto all fours. You’re too ready for his cock to pay attention to how loud his soft slap on your ass is before he pulls off his pants and rifles through his bedside drawer for a condom. You turn your head to watch him as he slides it on, arching your back so he can get an eyeful of your awaiting pussy. He’s not feeling gentle or merciful tonight, and that doesn’t seem to be what you want anyway as you groan at the feel of his cock stretching you wide as he enters and bottoms out inside of you in one smooth motion.

Zeke knows you’re holding back though, doing your very best to stifle the noises he’s forcing from you as his cock slides against your walls just right, and that’s not what he wants. He slaps your ass again, hard, and you keen before getting a hold of yourself to send him a look of warning over your shoulder.

“You think Reiner’s still awake to listen to how good you sound when I fuck you?” You tighten around him, pussy fluttering at the thought, and that gives Zeke the final push to do just what he’d intended. “Do you want to find out?”

There’s no time to think about the implications of his question, as Zeke wraps his arm around your waist, hoisting you up so your back is pressed to his chest as he sets a brutal pace.

“Reiner!” Zeke’s voice booms, and this time when you’re pussy clenches around him he knows it’s not just due to the pleasure coursing through you. “Reiner, come here!”

“Zeke-”

“Shh…” He brings the hand that was previously gripping your hip tightly up to cup your face, rubbing his thumb over your lips, “He knows what we’re doing. If he doesn’t want to see it he’ll stay in bed.”

You’re blushing, equal measures embarrassed and aroused, and the wait only makes your heart beat faster. A few moments of what was no doubt tortuous conflict passes and you hear the door to the room next to Zeke’s open slowly, followed by another long moment before Zeke’s door is pushed open fully.

“See, I knew you weren’t that much of a coward, Reiner.” Zeke’s voice is straining from how hard he’s fucking you, and how excited he is to have his plan come perfectly together as Reiner locks eyes with you.

He looks you over slowly as none of you speak, watching your tits bounce as you take Zeke, swallowing hard at the sight of your slick dripping down your thighs, ears ringing at the sound of skin on sin. He’s already hard and tenting his boxer briefs, hair already disheveled from tossing and turning in bed as he listened to you try and fail to stay silent. Zeke is happy to let him watch, but he decides he wants him to do something more than just stand there like a lost dog.

“Well?” Reiner is snapped from his daze and looks at Zeke as if he’d only thought about him being there. “Are you going to do something about it?”

Reiner looks at you, and your soft cry of his name thrusts him into motion as he comes to join the two of you on the bed. He cups your face in his hands, kissing you and drinking in your moans as your pussy flutters around Zeke’s cock. Reiner is soft, so soft compared to how hard you’re being fucked, but intense as he groans into your mouth and bites at your bottom lip. He pulls away to breathe, but only for a moment before he’s working his way to your neck to leave all the marks he’d dreamt of gifting you with for years. His hands are quick to find your clit, rubbing soft circles as Zeke continues to work at you from inside, and your hands quickly reach for his cock in turn.

“So big…” you sigh, savoring the feeling of running your hands over his thick cock through his underwear, before pushing them down as far as you can reach with Zeke pulling you into his thrusts. Thankfully, it’s far enough to free Reiner’s cock and you shiver in Zeke’s grasp as it rubs against your stomach while Reiner presses his body to yours. You barely have your fingers wrapped around him before he’s thrusting up into your hand, already groaning, already close - you wonder for a moment if he’d already been touching himself to the sounds of you.

Zeke would guess yes, and can’t help getting his sly little digs in even as the two of you do exactly as he’d intended, “Close already? Good thing I’m here to satisfy her.”

Reiner doesn’t take that easily, working your clit faster and the way your pussy grips Zeke has him hurling closer to the edge right along with you both. Reiner breathes his words into your skin, sending shivers through you again and again, “Cum for me… cum with me…”

You do, and both of your work against each other stutters as you cum together, Reiner painting your stomach as your pussy threatens to undo Zeke right along with you. He holds on, however, fucking you through your orgasm as Reiner thrusts into your hand until the last of his cum is covering your soft skin and the fluttering of your pussy slows.

Zeke pulls out and releases you, sending you forward and into Reiner’s waiting arms as he pulls off his condom and finishes himself off on your ass, adding his mess to the mix as well. Reiner keeps kissing you, rubbing your back, smiling at the way you shiver when Zeke begins rubbing his cum into your skin.

“That was…” Reiner starts, then stops, looking into your eyes and trying to parse what just happened.

Zeke doesn’t want to give him too much time to think, knowing that just leads to more annoyance with Reiner, so instead he lies down, pulling you with him. “The bed’s big enough for three.”

Reiner pauses, still thinking instead of doing, until you’re patting the space on the bed next to you. “C’mon, Reiner, lets get some rest.”

For you, he’ll listen to anything, something Zeke huffs at as you rest your head on his shoulder, and your hand on Reiner’s chest. You’re first to fall asleep, and Reiner lies there staring at you dreamily, finally basking in the moment for once. Then, it’s Zeke’s turn to think, and think too much as he considers just what he might have started. He wasn’t sure what he felt, not quite jealousy… but not victory either. He felt smug, but also like he’d gotten himself in over his head. Maybe he wanted Reiner here for different reasons than he’d originally thought. Maybe he wanted you for different reasons than he’d originally thought too. Zeke closes his eyes and decides everyone’s had enough thinking for the day, deciding to sleep before he dwelled too long on the mess he’d made.

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

[strawberryjamsara]

Keiji and Sara’s relationship throughout yttd

In which I analyze the found family dynamic between Sara and Keiji then nobody reads it. But jokes aside, I realized back when that anon asked me for my thoughts on Sara that I had enough thoughts on the relationship between these two alone for its own meta so here goes. What Sara and Keiji’s relationship means in the grand scheme of yttd.

ALSO THIS IS NOT SHIPPING SHIPPERS GET THE FUCK AWAY

Sara when she meets Keiji is distrustful of him. And how can she not be? The guy has some creepy bags under his eyes, doesn’t seem to care about the situation, and for no reason is gravitating towards her. And his response when she asks why the hell he keeps putting a random stranger in charge? “Because you’re cute.” Yeah. I’d stay within 50 feet of this guy too Sara. Especially when he’s not spilling a word about himself.

Alright we might as well get the gross part out of the way. To clear things up. In the Japanese version, the word he uses “Kawai” can be seen as a more fatherly word to use with a kid. But the comments about going on dates from himself and from Shin? Those are still there. And I still think they’re really uncomfortable and wish they weren’t in the game period but we can get thematic significance out of them.

We still don’t know Keijis reasons in game for being attached to Sara. My theory? She’s his handicap. He was told to get close to the higher scorer who could easily backstab him, and he’d be stuck with her. It just kinda makes sense to me. But since that’s just a theory I won’t lean to heavily on it for support. But let’s talk about his comments.

Keiji… well, it’s shown at many points in the game that Keiji just thinks of himself as doomed to be a bad person. It can be seen during his day two negotiations when he calls himself a killer and explains he can’t even trust himself so Sara shouldn’t really bother and more explicitly so is the classroom scene between him and Ranmaru where he says he isn’t fit to protect Sara because of his sins. The flirting is both a way to distract people, and to put distance between himself and Sara. He’s not really “protecting” her.

Okay gross bit nobody wants to talk about is over I promise we won’t talk about it again. Let’s talk about Russian Roulette. In this scene, Keiji once again tries to make Sara the leader with no explanation, but then, Sara yells at him, something he didn’t expect. And through this he actually reveals something huge. The source of his trauma. His shooting. For Keiji to have actually revealed something that big, I think that this is the first moment he began to see Sara past whatever reason he first started making her a leader. This is the beginning of their bond.

This bond gets solidified over chapter 1-2s investigation. Keiji is still putting her in charge because his handicap said to build her up for whatever reason, but they’re able to have chats, and she keeps picking at his armor. He reveals his dark sense of humor to her, and she, suspicious just sort of keeps him at arms length. Also she rides his shoulders to screw in a light and he complains which is funny. The scene post Nao also helps the two of them sharpen investigative skills together, as they discuss the mystery of Miley, and Mishimas head.

Then another significant scene. The white room. I call this scene significant because, instead of letting Sara investigate the gruesome scene of the first trial, Keiji for the first time, allows Sara to walk out. Something that will become relevant later but until then, Keiji has begun to put Sara’s well-being above serving whatever purpose he had by building her up. So keep that in your pocket while we go over the main game.

There’s only two points for the main game I want to cover. While Keiji and Sara do put their heads together a few times, Sara still doesn’t fully trust him, so I will only go over 1. When Shin brings up Kai’s emails. Keiji has been fully logical this whole time, questioning everyone’s alibis including Nao’s who he saw the emotional plea from, but when Sou brings up potentially damning evidence of Sara, he just asks if he read the emails wrong. 2. When Sara is panicking over being chosen for the final round, Keiji loudly shouts “GET A GRIP SARA!” With a serious expression. Before quickly backtracking and going back to a devil may care expression. This shows he is both already emotionally attached to Sara, but unwilling to stake himself towards giving himself to a new cause.

Anyways, he stops her from pressing the button blah blah blah, onto chapter 2! I’ve made a post about this before but it seems as early as here, Keiji is trying to talk Sara down from pushing herself further. But at this point, Sara has already dedicated herself to the role because her best friend died due to her priority to protect everyone. Keiji sees the problem and he tries to get her to rest up, but he still doesn’t spend the time to have a serious talk about it because as he says in the classroom. He isn’t fit to protect her. He doesn’t think of himself as a good person who can help her. He thinks of himself as a murderer and he doesn’t allow himself to recover from the trauma.

Sara however is starting to rely more on Keiji. He’s been willing to comfort her in her times of grief and furthermore, she has something to relate to him on. They both have deaths of important people in their lives they feel responsibility for.

There’s also the fact that Keiji sees a lot of his old self in Sara. An idealistic person, being beaten down, and worrying over the idea they might be becoming a bad person. He feels the same as her.

Not to mention… Keiji follows through on his promises. He actually tells Sara about the person he respected like he said he would which establishes a further sense of trust.

However, something that tears that sense of trust apart is the tokens scene. When Keiji doesn’t even let Sara hold 50 tokens, it raises suspicion. Sara already knows he shot a person- what more could he have to hide? That scares her away. The negotiation event is an attempt for Keiji to win back her trust. But it slowly turns into Keiji’s self-loathing session. And his declaration maybe Sara shouldn’t trust him.

However, time passes enough (and Keiji supports Sara enough in the final attraction) for them to get together and investigate in 2-2. And there’s a lot of moments I can talk about there so I’ll be just doing a few rapidfire things. So first, Sara is in peak weird girl mode and Keiji can hardly control her chaos. Second, Keiji makes a full on decision at one point to go against Sara when she’s putting herself in danger of getting caught for their search so they can hide. Third, his response to “I don’t intend to die” when he asks “will you die with me” is that’s a good answer.

And fourth… a moment I really wanna touch on… Keiji watches something that could easily incriminate Sara. It’s not just some word of mouth thing like with Shin who lied about things several times before this point. But in that moment, he still relies on Sara and says he wouldn’t feel bad betting his life on her. The message is clear. Keiji supports Sara unconditionally.

Now let’s talk about Keiji totally dropping Sara’s ass with the card trades.

The way Keiji makes his trades is very telling. He first, steals a keymaster card from either Sou or Kanna to give to Sara. This is supporting Sara, but it’s doing it in a way that supports his view of himself. That he’s a scumbag who would steal someone’s immunity just to give it to someone he likes more. And would a shithead like that be “worthy” of sacrificing themselves and taking the card for Sara? (And he knew she had it. Qtaro had to tell him for their plan to happen) no. Instead he essentially opts for a revenge plot. A plan to ensnare Shin and kill him for pawning off the sacrifice to Sara. Basically, he wanted to fuck up Shin like how he fucked up Megumi. Nice going Keiji. This is… kind of his low point in the story.

But 3-1….. man this chapter hits in all the right ways. I don’t remember 3A that much, (although I do know that Keiji shows a lot of concern over Sara potentially being triggered by Joe memorabilia) and also if you fail the Keiji Midori fight you can have Sara attempt to tag Keiji and he rejects. And how can we forget… the mr policeman flashback. As Sara says, this is Keiji’s first time opening up on his own.

And then… coffin saga. Sara through everything is not willing to let Keiji die. Although she’s had her ups and downs with him, leaving him to die is inconceivable to her with everything they’ve been through together. So she opts to sign the contract both times she is offered it.

Keiji clearly is somebody important to Sara. Important enough that Ranmaru bringing him up is enough to snap her out of her murderous trance. Enough that she throws logic out the window when she has a sign he’s okay.

Likewise, the scene in the classroom for Keiji is… a huge step. When he’s alone with Ranmaru, who is unstable, in that classroom, his priority is Sara. He turns his back to the threat to hold Sara and try and make sure she’s okay- dumb move, but it shows how far he’s come.

And again, I want to reiterate- Keiji is Sara’s anchor. At the banquet when Sara is about to give up, she imagines Keiji talking to her which brings her back in the game. Much like Joe did back in chapter 2. The message is palpable. Keiji is Sara’s new Joe. And when Keiji comes back to comfort her? He’s now fully willing to sacrifice himself. It winds up not being needed seeing as Qtaro is the one that died. But in that moment, we see Keiji has made a huge leap from chapter 2. He almost sacrificed himself for Gin. And he would’ve used his final moments to comfort Sara. He’s embraced that he’s a father figure. He allows himself to be a good person.

Anyways I don’t know how to conclude this and I’ve been writing for hours. Bababooey.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

That Escalated Quickly

Summary: Reader goes to a party with her friends to gather info on a new group of vampires in town that want Klaus dead. However, she’s kidnapped and Klaus must rescue her. The result? An eternity with the love of her life I suppose.

TW/CW: Klaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader. Canon violence ig? Blood, gun and gunshot wound, knife and stab wound, yeah canon violence about sums it up well.

Requested?: No

Word Count: 1,788

A/N: So, I googled whether a human dying with Klaus’s blood in their system would actually make them a vampire but I didn’t find anything so let’s just assume it would lol. Also, this turned out way longer than I had expected/planned. It’s been quite a while since I’ve watched tvd so I apologize if the transition is inaccurate :/ Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read! Requests are open and as always, love to all! P.S. when I say I would simp for this man... he and Elijah would be the death of meeeee.

Prompt: “Too bad the party is going to be hosted by people who want you dead. I heard they have a chocolate fountain.”   “Don’t tempt me.”

Your POV

    I adjust my outfit in the mirror as my boyfriend enters the room behind me. “My don’t you look ravishing,” he says as he wraps his arms around my waist and places soft kisses along my neck. I giggled at the tickle of his stubble and worm my way out of his arms to add the finishing touches to my outfit.  

    I notice him pouting out of the corner of my eye and make my way back to him as I finish my outfit, “Too bad the party is going to be hosted by people who want you dead. I heard they have a chocolate fountain.”

    “Don’t tempt me,” he responds as I kiss his cheek and make my way out of our room to head downstairs and join the others. He follows closely behind and when I finally come to a stop downstairs, he wraps me in his arms once again and this time he full on buries his face in my neck. I can tell he’s not happy about the current mission. There’s a new group of vampires in Mystic Falls, the leader of which does not like Klaus at all. From what I heard it’s probably for a good reason but I’m not exactly keen on letting my boyfriend get killed for a mistake he made in the past.

    Klaus is under orders to stay home and Elijah and Rebekah are staying behind to ensure that he follows said orders. Elena, Jeremy, Bonnie, Matt, Alaric and myself will be mingling among the party guests in attempts to pick up any information we can about the new vampires but of course at the request of Klaus and supply of Alaric and Jeremy, we’ll all be armed with stakes. Damon, Stefan, Caroline, and Tyler are all tasked with discretely patrolling the perimeter and listening for whatever they can. For the most part, they’re there in case we need back up.  

    I take the stake offered to me by Alaric and stuff it into the sleeve of my jacket and look around to make sure everyone is ready. As they are, I pry myself away from Klaus and press a quick kiss to his lips before heading out, “I’ll be fine, babe. Try not to worry too much while we’re gone.” I join the others outside and then we head off for the party.

    Upon entering the house, my senses are already overwhelmed by the smell of booze and the deep bass thumping music. I follow Elena and Bonnie off towards the kitchen for a drink and leave the guys at the door looking around like lost puppies. I glance back and chuckle at the looks on their faces before turning back around to make sure I don’t lose Elena and Bonnie. We somehow manage to find something non-alcoholic in the kitchen and pour each of ourselves some to drink before departing the kitchen to wander among the crowd filling the large house.

    Everything goes without a hitch for quite some time but the information pool is pretty dry. Finally, I decide that my bladder can’t take much more and head for the bathroom with promises to Elena and Bonnie to meet them and the guys back in the kitchen when I’m done. I find the bathroom without any issues, do my business, and then start to head back to the kitchen when I bump into a man who’s blocking the long hallway. “Uh, dude? Could you move? I need to get through,” I say as I try to go around him but he sidesteps to block my path.

    “You’ll make excellent bait,” comes a scratchy voice behind me.

    I turn around to face the newcomer, “Excuse me?”  

    “His scent is all over you. Don’t act stupid,” is his only answer. Shit. I drop the stake out of my sleeve and into my hand but before I can even begin to think of an escape plan, the man behind me grabs the stake and tosses it off behind him. Next thing I know, everything goes black and I have a splitting headache.

Third Person POV

    Elena and Bonnie pause their conversation as Alaric, Jeremy, and Matt make their way over. Elena tilts her head, “Hey, did you guys happen to see (Y/n) on your way in here?”

    They all shake their head and Alaric answers, “No, why? Should we be worried?”     Elena and Bonnie share a look. “Possibly,” Bonnie answers, “She went to the bathroom about 20 minutes ago and still isn’t back.”

    “I’ll go outside and let Damon and the others know. You four split up and see if you can find her,” Alaric orders before heading to the front door, the others splitting up to search as he does. Once he steps outside, Alaric pulls his phone out and dials Damon’s number.  

    It only rings once before the oldest Salvatore picks up, “Yeah, what’s up?”

    “We’ve lost track of (Y/n) the girl’s said she went to the bathroom about 20 minutes ago but they haven’t seen her since. They’re inside with Jeremy and Matt looking for her now,” Alaric answers promptly.

    “Alright, looks like they took the bait. I’ll let Elijah know, we’ll need Klaus to track her down,” comes Damon’s response.

    “Are we sure that’s a good idea? This guy wants Klaus dead,” Alaric inquires once again for the third time this evening.     “I told you, Klaus can handle himself. The only reason he’s not here is because (Y/n) insisted that he stay out of danger,” Damon replies with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

    “Okay, if you say so. I’ll round up the others and we can head back to the house for him,” Alaric says before hanging up the phone and heading back inside. Almost immediately he finds Elena, Bonnie, Jeremy, and Matt waiting for him.

    Elena who’s on the phone perks up, “Hello! (Y/n)? Where are you?” She’s quiet as whoever is on the other end of the line says something. She looks at the others with concern plastered across her face, “I swear if you hurt her-” she’s interrupted and listens for a moment before hanging up the phone angrily and storming out of the house with the others in hot pursuit. Elena stomps over to where the vampires and werewolf have gathered, “They have her. They gave an address and said to make sure Klaus comes alone.”

    “Oh, he’s going to be pissed,” Tyler adds.

    “What are we going to do? We can’t just send Klaus in alone, can we?” Caroline questions the group.

    Stefan, Damon, and Alaric all seem to share a look before Stefan answers, “We’ll leave that decision up to him.” With that, everyone climbs into the vehicles and heads back towards the Mikaelson’s home.

    When the group piles out of the vehicles and steps inside the house, Klaus storms over, “Where is she?”

    “Klaus, would you slow down and get your head on straight before you go barging into danger?” Rebekah pleas with her brother.

    “Where. Is. She?” Klaus barks.

    Everyone exchanges glances at each other, silently arguing over who will be the one to tell him. Finally, Elena speaks up, “There’s an old warehouse just outside of town. They have her there. They said to come alone.”

    Without saying another word, Klaus is gone. Everyone looks to Elijah who takes a deep breath, “We’ll follow but we’ll keep our distance. If I know my brother, he won’t want to put her in any more danger than she’s already in, even if it means risking his life.”

    As they all head off in pursuit of Klaus, Rebekah speaks up again, “Surely, they can’t actually kill him, can they? He’s a bloody Original for crying out loud.”

    “I don’t know, Rebekah. All we can do right now is hope for the best,” Elijah answers.

Your POV     I open my eyes slowly but the bright lights overhead still hurt my eyes. I look around and find myself in an old abandoned warehouse. My arms are chained to a rafter above my head and my feet are shackled to the floor. A tall, scraggly looking man steps into view, “Ah you’re awake.”

    I recognize that voice as one of the men that ambushed me, “You’re pretty brave, you know that? You must be to kidnap the girlfriend of an original vampire.”

    “Awwww boo hoo, he’s getting what he deserves,” the man mocks. Then the front door of the warehouse is kicked down and in walks my boyfriend.

    I glare at him with a frown on my face, “I thought I told you to keep your ass out of danger?”

    “Did you really think I’d listen?” he responds before launching himself after the men around me. It seems almost instantly that the men are wiped out. However, not before one of them manages to run me through with a knife. I can tell I don’t have long but Klaus breaks the chains holding my arms up and gently lays me on the ground, placing my head in his lap. He bites a gash into his forearm before placing it to my lips. I can sense the others gathering around us as I let Klaus’s blood enter my system. Within mere seconds the wound on my abdomen closes up and stops bleeding. Klaus helps me to my feet and we begin to follow the others back out to the vehicles. Suddenly, I hear a gunshot and feel immense pain in my back.  

    The man swears but is quickly cut off by Elijah who rips the man’s heart out of his chest. Klaus clutches me close to him, “I’m sorry, love. I should’ve been more careful.”

    I laugh softly, “It’s alright, this was bound to happen eventually.”

    When I wake up again, I find myself in mine and Klaus’s bedroom. Upon entering the room, Klaus notices that I’m awake and offers me a glass of what’s presumably blood. I down the glass as he climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me. He presses a kiss to my forehead before asking, “What did you mean when you said that this was bound to happen eventually?”

    I shrug and wipe my mouth, “It’s not like I want to grow old and die when I have such an amazing boyfriend and friends that I’d leave behind.”

    “I suppose that’s fair, but I’d much rather you not have to go through all this,” he replies quietly.

    “Don’t start blaming yourself. That will only make matters worse. Besides, I have basically have the professionals of how to be a vampire to teach me, I’ll be okay,” I laugh softly and cuddle closer into his chest before dozing off to sleep.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii​ @akshi8278​ 

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Soon // S.B.

Request: Ahhhh!!!!! Congratulations on such an AMAZING milestone🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉!!!!!! You deserve all this and sososo much more girly. I’m glad ur being recognized for ur amazing talents 😩💓 Now for the celebration. Could I suggest: Sirius, Hogwarts, Soulmate au, fluff #13, and Misc #5 - @leahstypewriter

Fluff 13: “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

Misc 5: “Are you quoting a film at me?”

A/N: Thank you so much, lovely! Here’s your request! I hope you like! I love writing soulmate AUs and I had to go searching for one that I hadn’t done before so here we are! As always, I hope you like!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I continue to wax lyrical about the history of soulmates, hopeless romantic (reader and writer lol).

Word count: 2.3k

The magic of soulmates was first discovered centuries ago; too long ago for the story to be remembered correctly, but through the years, the general gist remains the same amongst families of witches and wizards.

From birth, a witch and wizard are paired with another witch or wizard. It would take time to find their match; it would take patience of the strongest sort, but they will meet their soulmate should good fortune befall them.

How do they know they have a soulmate?

Anything written on skin; be it a word, a quote, a doodle – it all appears on their soulmates skin. Anything other than their name. Centuries of debate and arguments over the exact reason for this decree fell over the world. In the end, the ministries and the scholars across the world threw their hands up in exasperation, declaring that the decree relating to the naming of soulmates would have to stay and the reasoning being that those making the decree were too awkward and stubborn to think of making life easier for an entire society that had to go into hiding.

For years, witches and wizards, once old enough, are able to communicate with their destined other half. The itch of a sentence being written becomes familiar; almost tolerable. Over time, they get to know their penmanship and their inner most secrets only dared scrawled onto their skin that could be hurriedly washed away if needed.

By the time the young witches and wizards in the United Kingdom have reached the age to start Hogwarts, their soulmate is already a part of them.

Now it was just trying to whittle down the student population of the school to discover who exactly was your appointed other half from birth.

---------

Most soulmate matches at Hogwarts are made in the months April to July – it’s when the weather starts to warm up; becoming bearable enough for the short sleeved blouses and shirts to be dug out from the very bottom of trunks.

Arms are on display for most of the day. It means that matches are made in the corridor, in the classrooms, in the Great Hall. Everywhere across the castle matches are made.

It’s wonderful, it is. But it also makes you more impatient.

You’re in the library when another match is made. Madame Pince tries her hardest to hush the new match into some level of quiet, but it does no good and thankfully, she evicts them from the library and the hush soon falls back over the great room with the same sense of a comforting blanket.

Rolling the sleeve of your cardigan up, you delicately write, “I’ve just seen the third match made of the day and it’s not even noon.”

It doesn’t take long for your soulmate to reply, “I’ve seen two so far. Where was your third?”

“The library.”

“I bet Pince was thrilled.”

You snort at their reply; amused at how well they know the school’s librarian.

“When is it going to be our turn?” You ask somewhat hesitantly.

The reply takes a few minutes, but it comes all the same in the elegant script you’ve come to know, “Soon.”

You rag your sleeve back down in frustration, repressing the building groan. You didn’t know your soulmate’s name, but you had given him the nickname of ‘aloof’. He had gone to great personal care to not reveal too much about himself other than the fact that he was male, he went to Hogwarts and he was your age.

That was something at least, but your countless attempts to find out more had been rebuffed. When you asked why, he simply answered that he wanted to leave as much as he could a surprise. You understood that, but the curiosity got to you.

You sigh heavily returning to the homework laid in front of you, but your mind continues to play the realisation that had happened only moments ago. The happiness on their faces; their utter elation tied in with the adoration they already felt for the other.

It was hard, you realise, to be in love with someone you’ve only spoken to through words and doodles on your arm.

-----

The week doesn’t get any easier; the weather only turns warmer, so the outer robes are ditched completely. You leave the Great Hall the morning Lily Evans realised she had been talking to James Potter since she was a child. You couldn’t watch it and still feel the same empty feeling that had settled within you so long ago.

Your friend June and her boyfriend follow you from the Great Hall. They find you facing one of the many tapestries that depict the meeting of soulmates; they’re found all over the castle and each one feels like a dagger to the stomach.

“It’ll happen soon,” June comforts, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“Soon! Soon! That’s all he says,” You explode. Then you repeat in a quieter voice, “That’s all he says. He’s here and he’s close and all he says is soon. What if he doesn’t want to meet me, June?”

June tuts, “Then he’s a damn fool. However, he does want to meet you. He replies doesn’t he?”

You nod your head, but her words do nothing to comfort the growing sense of dread within you.

It was rare, but the soulmate bond could be rejected. There were those in the wizarding world who were born without a soulmate, but there were also those who simply didn’t want one, so they never replied to their partner’s pleading. Instead, they chose to ignore every word, every plea, every beg. For the bond to be accepted, the first reply is important. If words are never painted on your skin, the bond is rejected.

For not the first time that day, you sigh, “I know we have forever to know each other, but is it so wrong of me to want that to start now?”

June squeezes your shoulder, “It’s not wrong at all.”

You continue to stare at the tapestry a little while longer after June and her boyfriend depart; the depiction of soulmates shown in the quill being held by both parties.

Running a hand through your hair, you turn your back on the portrayal of true love, your mind focused on how long it would be until you experience something of the same magnitude.

-----

The day after James and Lily have their realisations, you find Sirius Black’s eyes on you at breakfast. When you meet eyes, he smiles at you, raising his hand in wave. You smile back politely, waving back awkwardly before shaking your head and returning to your breakfast and the latest letter from your brother and his new wife.

They had settled well into their new house; they loved their wedding present, thank you; and yes, you were to have a niece or nephew by the end of the year.

Wonderful.

Shoving the letter from your brother into your bag with more force than what is needed, you feel someone standing next to you. Looking up you meet the grey eyes of Sirius Black; he smiles down at you, “Are you okay?”

You fix him with a puzzled look, ���Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs, “You were frowning so big I noticed it from down the table. I thought I would come see if you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me though.”

He nods, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He doesn’t say anything else and you don’t offer to fill the void, so the silence sits between you as heavy as a rock.

You stand from the bench; throwing your bag onto your shoulder, “Thanks again, Sirius. I’ll see you later.”

Sirius shifts out of your way, clearing the path for you, “My pleasure. I’ll see you later.”

You shake your head as you walk away; the encounter being an odd one given that your social circle didn’t tend to include any of the Marauders. But there was something about his final words; something about the way he uttered them that made them sound as if they were a promise to you.

You rush the thought from your mind; refusing to let yourself being occupied by someone who wasn’t your soulmate.

---

Sirius begins to take more notice in you; he starts to strike up small conversations whenever he can as well as numerous attempts to catch your eye at any meal time.

He starts to take up a lot of your time; sitting with you in the library on the rare occasion, but also joining you in class when the other Marauders are occupied with other pursuits.

It’s odd.

Muggle Studies remains one of the few lessons that hasn’t been interrupted with the growing number of soulmate matches in your year. Arguably, this school year could be the one with the most matches – the final year of Hogwarts; that final rush to find the love of your life before being sent out into the whole wizarding world without that safety net of the school to fall back onto.

The longer the professor drones on, the harder you find it to focus your concentration. The professor paces the front of the classroom, explaining their brief overview of what they hope the next few lessons will shape up to be like, but your attention is shot. It flickers between the marauder who has, for some reason, taken an interest in you and your soulmate, who still won’t reveal any more information about themselves or when you’ll be meeting.

A headache is close to blooming behind your eyes at the stress of it all.

Shrugging off your cardigan, you dip your quill into the pot of black ink sat in its holder. With the practiced precision of someone used to drawing on themselves, you begin to doodle.

Stars, planets, and moons appear on your left arm – decorating the inner forearm with an entire galaxy. They’re pretty rudimentary drawings, but it’s enough to keep you occupied from the droll being spewed by the professor who definitely hasn’t noticed they’ve lost the attention of most of the class.

The bell rings; finally signally the start of your only free period of the day. With a grateful sigh, you drop your books into your bag and make your way to the library.

You never make it to the library. On your way there, a hand grabs the back of your robes, pulling you into an empty corridor. With an angry shout, you face your kidnapper, “Sirius!”

He lets out an amused laugh at your affronted expression, “I’m sorry, I just needed to talk to you in private.”

You exhale, adjusting the heavy bag on your shoulder, “Sirius, I have to know. Why are you paying me so much attention? Surely you have a soulmate to think of.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“Really?”

Sirius nods. He takes a deep breath before saying, “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

“Are you quoting a film at me?” You ask; an eyebrow raised.

Sirius shakes his head, repressing a laugh. He rolls up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing his left arm to you where decorating his inner forearm are the very same stars, planets and moons that you had doodled instead of focusing on the classwork.

Instead of saying anything, you roll your own sleeve up, lining your arm up beside Sirius’ where the patterns match perfectly.

It seemed that his attempts at conversation and his watching you from a distance was for a purpose.

Sirius Black is your soulmate.

“Oh…” You whisper.

“I told you we would meet soon,” Sirius whispers; a sight teasing lilt to his voice.

You shake your head, “I kept thinking you didn’t want to meet me; that you didn’t want a soulmate.”

Sirius grips both of your hands, “The complete opposite. I just needed to work up the nerve to find you.”

“When did you know?”

“Not that long ago. When James and Lily got together.”

You nod your head; remembering the day well.

“I overheard you talking to your friend when I was on my way to a lesson and you kept talking about how your soulmate kept promising you soon. And I realised that that was all I was saying to mine. Soon.”

You look down at your joined hands, “I never even had an inkling it was you.”

Sirius chuckles, “I suppose that should be flattering. I must be that good at concealing information, I should be a spy.”

You roll your eyes, “It almost drove me mad is what you mean.”

“Well we have a long time to get to know each other now,” He murmurs; voice soft and filled with promise for the future.

You smile shyly at the long-haired teenager, “We do?”

He nods, “Yeah, we do.”

Tentatively, you take a step closer to the long-haired Marauder. A small smile graces Sirius’ face as he takes in your movement. With a tug of his hands, you fall into him – an arm clasping itself around your waist, pressing you to him.

Sirius’ hand caresses your cheek; you lean into the touch, wondering if this is how every match felt when they found their soulmate or whether this was entirely Sirius’ effect on you. Either way, it was addicting… and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

Finally though, after what feels like a lifetime of staring into each other’s eyes, Sirius dips his head to kiss you. You meet him halfway; the desire you feel for him controlling your every move. His grip on your waist tightens and your arms wind their way around his neck, holding him to you. This kiss is what breaks the dam; from the lightest pressure of his lips, long buried emotions bubble up to the surface and it’s all you can do to keep yourself in control.

Sirius breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t retreat far. He beams down at you; eyes bright with elation. It’s a smile that you return and more; happy to have found your soulmate, happy to know who he is and that he loves you just as much as you love him.

Happy to know that soon is now.

*******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @nerdyatheletic

Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7 @susceptible-but-siriusexual​

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Six: Be My Baby

a/n: welcome back lovelies! Thank you once again for all of your kindness and support for chapter five!! I am so glad you enjoyed it :’) As promised: some more Halani sweetness that is truly good for the soul. Can’t wait for you to see what’s in store for our favorite lovebirds <3 I have had so much fun chatting with some of you and hearing your thoughts, so keep ‘em coming! Happy reading :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, sickeningly sweet PDA <3

Word Count: 4.7k 

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, and five 

The rain descends in full force, strong and unrelenting, but Harry and Alani are too wrapped up in their own little world inside the Bronco to notice. They sit facing each other with palms touching, comparing hand sizes while they ramble about everything and nothing at all. Harry still has to remind himself to blink every so often despite the irrational fear that Alani will disappear when his eyes open again. With the knowledge that every moment could be this perfect, she silently curses herself for not crossing the friendship barrier sooner. 

“Think you bit me a little bit,” Harry comments, scanning his lower lip for any signs of bruising. 

“Did not,” Alani defends with a light giggle. 

He pouts his lower lip in her direction and leans closer for her to observe. “Did too, look!”

“Fine. I guess I won’t kiss you anymore if I’m such a detriment to your health,”

Harry sneaks his fingers inside Alani’s sweatshirt and tickles her sides, relishing in the laughter that erupts. 

“Just teasing,” he offers. “But I think I’m ready to get hurt again. Do me the honor?”

“You are such a nuisance,” she grins, obliging his request for another kiss by slotting her lips between his. It’s sweet and chaste, but it leaves her mouth tingling long after they’ve pulled apart. Alani runs her hands through Harry’s messy hair and he hums in response, leaning into her touch. When her hand stills, he plants a soft peck to the inside of her wrist as a plea to continue. She combs through the chestnut curls while he occupies his attention with something in the cupholder between them. 

“What’s this?” Harry questions, lifting the smoothie she had prepared for him earlier. 

Alani glances down and chuckles to herself. “Oh, it’s for you. I knew you’d be suffering from a gnarly hangover,”

Harry’s head tilts and he grins, giving Alani a sighting of her favorite dimple. “So good to me. Don’t know what I do to deserve it,”

“Maybe hold off on the gratitude, I think it’s probably rancid now,”

He takes a polite sip and sure enough, the drink is lukewarm and barely edible. His nose instinctively scrunches with disgust, but he quickly musters an appreciative smile. 

“S’lovely,”

“Liar,”

“Wanna taste?” Harry challenges, leaning in with puckered lips that Alani playfully dodges. He plants a kiss to her cheek instead, trailing down her jaw and to the side of her neck in a way that sends shivers down her spine. Her hands weave into his hair and she searches for his mouth again, but before she does, her phone rings loudly on the dashboard in front of them. 

He grumbles and his head lands on her shoulder. “For fuck’s sake—”

“Sorry,” Alani apologizes, swiping the device to look at the caller ID. Her sister’s name and photo flash on the screen, so she decides to answer it. “Hello?”

Harry traces small circles on the tops of Alani’s thighs, his mind still lost in the heat of the moment while she listens to Pua’s panicked voice on the other end. 

“Where are you?” Alani questions, sitting up straighter in her seat. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten,”

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, brow furrowed in concern. 

She collects her bearings and sighs. “Pua and her little friends got stranded at the mall because of the storm. Need me to go rescue them,”

“Can I come with?” he offers eagerly, not ready to part just yet. 

“I don’t know if you really wanna be stuck with a bunch of fifteen year old-girls,” Alani laughs bitterly. 

Harry shrugs and toys with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Dunno if you were aware, but fifteen year-old girls love me,”

He stops suddenly and registers the concerning undertones in his statement. “That came out wrong,”

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t say that out loud,” Alani giggles with a hand cupped to his cheek. “Let’s meet up afterwards, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Harry agrees, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alani leans over and presses a light kiss to his parted mouth, indulging his request to deepen it by letting him glide his tongue over her lower lip. 

“I really have to go.” she warns before pulling away reluctantly. 

Harry groans, but he steals one last kiss and slips out of the car into the heavy rain. 

“Be careful!” he calls over his shoulder. 

 Alani waits until he’s secure inside his own vehicle before driving away down the road. 

********

“You’re soaking wet,”

“It’s raining,”

“And you’re blushing,”

Harry shakes his damp hair out as he strolls down the hallway towards his room, Mitch at his heels. 

“So?”

“I’m assuming you fixed things with Alani, then?” his friend probes. 

Harry stomach flutters at the mention of her name. “Yeah,”

Mitch rests his shoulder against the doorframe of the singer’s room and watches as he sifts through his closet and dresser. 

“So why aren’t you with her right now?”

“She had to go pick up her sister, we’re meeting up later,”

“Is it official, then? I mean are you two...” 

Harry rubs a hand along the back of his neck and offers a shy smile in response. “I guess so,” 

“Well I’ll be damned!” his friend cheers, clapping him on the shoulder. “We have to celebrate. Jeff owes me twenty bucks,” 

“Mate—”

Mitch snickers with hands raised. “Kidding! Well, sorta. I actually said that she would turn you down at first,” 

Harry rolls his eyes and continues his search for the right shirt. “Ha ha. Listen, I need a favor,” 

“Anything.” 

“Jeff said that there’s a projector and fairy lights in the shed. I’m gonna need you to dig them out.” 

********

Alani parks in front of the mall and shoots her sister a text. Within a few minutes, Pua and her three friends bolt out of the entrance and climb into her backseat. 

“Buckle up,” she instructs the girls before pulling away from the curb. 

“Thank you,” Pua exhales, sinking into the seat. 

Alani gives her a reassuring wink and glances up to the rearview mirror to see her sister’s friends chatting giddily in the back. Her mind briefly wanders to less than an hour prior and the lingering warmth of Harry’s touch before her sister chirps up next to her. 

“What happened to your neck?” she asks with her nose scrunched. 

Alani’s brow creases in momentary confusion before her entire body heats up in realization. “Oh—uh, nothing,”

“Is that a—?”

“What do you guys wanna listen to?” Alani asks the backseat, avoiding her sister’s questions. 

“Wait, were you with—?”

One of the girls speaks up and Alani passes the aux cord over her head. Pua narrows her eyes and a smug grin spreads across her lips. 

“You were!” she accuses, hushed so her friends don’t hear. 

Alani shoots her younger sister a stern look and mouths the word “don’t,” but it’s no use. Her attention is stolen when the upbeat drums of a vaguely familiar pop song fills the entire car. 

“Oh you’re gonna love this one,” Pua laughs, bobbing her head along to the music that plays. 

Alani feels a strange sense of familiarity in the singer’s voice, but she’s having trouble placing it. She looks over to her sister for an explanation, but Pua simply wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

“It’s your boyfriend,” she smirks.

Yeah, so tell me girl if every time we 

Touch you get this kind of rush 

Baby say “yeah, yeah, yeah,” yeah, yeah, yeah

If you don’t wanna take it slow 

And you just wanna take me home

Baby say “yeah, yeah, yeah,” yeah, yeah, yeah

And let me kiss you

Mortification settles into the pit of Alani’s stomach, but a hint of amusement sneaks in as she pictures the various ways that she can tease Harry about this later. 

“Oh my God, could you imagine kissing them?” one of the girls, a redhead with freckles, muses in the back. 

“I think if I kissed Harry Styles, I could die happy.” sighs another one with round glasses. 

The third girl, a slender face with a full afro, chimes in with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Do you guys think he’s a good kisser?”

“Good question,” Pua plays along, turning to her older sister. “What do you think?”

Alani’s jaw tenses and she suddenly feels flustered under the pressure. Glimpses of spearmint and vanilla flood her memory, but she suppresses them and clears her throat. “How should I know?” 

Luckily, the three teenagers have already moved on from the subject and chat amongst themselves about other relevant topics.  

After the last girl has been dropped off at her house, Alani turns to her sister with a glaring look. 

“Before you ask—”

“Are you guys dating now?” Pua interrupts excitedly. 

Alani lets out an exasperated sigh and clutches the steering wheel to ground herself. “No. Well…I don’t know,”

“How was it?” her sister poses gently, a starry look in her eye. “Was he a good kisser?”

There’s a glimmer of eagerness in Pua’s expression that makes it hard for Alani to remain serious. A bashful smile spreads across her lips as she remembers the dreamy boy awaiting her return. 

“Yeah,” Alani confesses. “He was,”

“Oh my god!” her sister shrieks, enveloping her in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you! This is perfect,”

Alani lets herself be excited for the first time since her feelings had been set free. Everything was still fresh and exhilarating, and while she couldn’t wrap her head around all of it, she was grateful for her sister’s enthusiasm. 

“It’s new,” Alani explains, sorting through the last couple of hours. “So there’s really not much to tell,”

“But you like him?” Pua clarifies. 

“Yes,”

“And he likes you?”

Alani shrugs coyly, thinking of the way that Harry had practically melted in her touch. “I think so.”

“Then what else matters?”

Pua’s words comfort the anxious turning in Alani’s stomach. If Harry feels even a sliver of the affection she has for him, then nothing else could truly ever matter in her world. 

********

Harry’s towel hangs low on his hips as he steps out of the shower. Immediately, he reaches for his phone to see if there are any new messages from Alani, but he deflates when her name isn’t on the screen. He checks the time and registers that three hours have passed since they had last seen each other, though it feels like days in his mind. Quickly, he dries off and steps into a pair of black jeans and a silky red overshirt, adjusting the silver chain with a cross pendant around his neck before slipping a few rings onto his fingers to complete the look. His hair is still damp, so he runs a blowdryer over it and adds a small amount of product—still getting used to the shorter style. Harry spritzes a bit of vanilla scented cologne onto the sides of his neck and takes a deep breath to quell the pounding in his chest. He checks his phone again, but there’s still no news from Alani, so he decides to reach out first. 

Harry: We still on for tonight?

He can hear ruckus emanating from the kitchen, undoubtedly the sound of his friends cooking dinner with a few drinks in their systems. His stomach rumbles when he realizes that all he’s had to eat was a sip of Alani’s warm smoothie. 

Alani: Yes, sorry! Had to cook for my sister but I’m free now :) 

He hums, his dinner plans most likely foiled. 

Harry: I take it you’re not really hungry then?

Alani: I could eat…

Harry grins and grabs the keys from his nightstand.

Harry: Be there in fifteen xx

Fifteen minutes—that’s all Alani has to fix herself up and look somewhat presentable for Harry. She darts around her room and picks out a flowy, black mini skirt with embroidered cherries and its matching cropped tank. Her hair is still a bit messy from not combing it after her bath, so she smoothes it out with some water and curl cream, hoping for the best. She finishes her look with a swipe of red tinted lip gloss across her full lips and honey scented lotion over her skin. By the time her quick routine is complete, she still has four minutes to spare and spends them pacing her room back and forth with deep breaths. Her phone dings two minutes later and she smiles at Harry’s punctuality. 

Harry: Am I allowed to meet you at your front door?

Alani’s heart melts at his consideration, so she quickly makes her way downstairs and decides to respond to him in person. Sure enough, he’s already waiting at the door with eyes wide as if he’d just been caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Wow,” Harry marvels, taking in her appearance. 

“You don’t look too bad, yourself.” Alani compliments, closing the door behind her and with a step forward. 

He clears his throat and offers his hand out to her, palm facing up. “Shall we?”

She accepts it happily and allows his fingers to slip between hers. They walk down the short path to the pink Cadillac waiting for them, glistening under the last bit of sunset. Harry opens her door first, then makes his way to the driver’s side before peeling out of the driveway. As they head to their mysterious dinner location, Harry’s hand wanders from the gear shift to Alani’s palm resting on her thigh. She interlocks their fingers and runs the pad of her thumb over the silver rose around his index finger, wondering all the while about its origin. 

“Hey, what’s with the ring?” she decides to ask, lifting their joint hands to support her question. 

“It was a gift from my mum,” Harry explains. “When I first went away on tour, she was bummed that she couldn’t be at every show to throw a rose on stage. So she gave it to me as a reminder that she’d always be cheering me on, no matter how far apart we were,”

Alani’s chest stirs at the sweet gesture, wishing suddenly that she had a face to put to the lovely woman in her mind. 

“I really like that,” she comments, studying the petals and intricate details. 

Harry glances over at the girl sitting in his passenger seat and thinks that he’d very much like for his mom to meet her someday, though under the right circumstances. He lifts their joined hands up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

********

As they pull into the studio, Alani immediately takes note of a giant white tarp hanging from the roof on one side of the building. 

“What’s that for?” she asks curiously, stepping out of the car. 

Harry offers his hand and motions for her to follow him inside. “It’s for the movie,”

“We’re watching a movie?”

“Yeah,” he smiles sheepishly. “Hope that’s okay,”

“It’s perfect,” Alani reassures him with a squeeze of his forearm. 

“I had the food delivered, too. Figured we could eat while we watch,”

When Harry unlocks the door, the unmistakable scent of Alani’s favorite Italian restaurant lingers around the room. She gasps at the sight of two take-out bags from Angelo's perched on the coffee table.

“How did you…?” she trails off with her mouth hanging agape. “That’s my favorite place,”

“Ravioli with extra sauce,” Harry smirks victoriously, taking both bags and retreating back to the door. He sends a telepathic “thank you” message to Pua for the suggestion. 

“Who told you?”

“A good journalist never reveals his source, you should know that,”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that we were switching professions,” Alani follows with her eyes narrowed warily.

“But don’t expect me to serenade you or anything,”

Harry chuckles and places their meals in the back seat before opening Alani’s door for her. “Not even a little tune?”

“Maybe the alphabet song if you’re lucky,”

“I’ll take it,”

“Actually,” she snaps, settling into the passenger seat as she recalls one of his songs that Pua’s friends had introduced her to. “Maybe I do have a little something for you,”

Harry’s brows shoot up eagerly. “Well let’s hear it,”

Alani clears her throat and tries to wipe the mischievous grin from her lips, but the enthusiasm behind her date’s eyes makes it difficult to execute the joke. 

“Close your eyes, please,” 

“Why?” Harry laughs softly, a mixture of tenderness and amusement settling on his features. 

“I can’t do it with you looking at me,” Alani whines. “Just close ‘em!”

“Okay, okay, they’re closed,”

“No peeking,”

“Yeah, yeah,”

Alani takes a deep breath and tries to remember the tune that had been stuck in her head all afternoon.

“So tell me girl if every time we tou-ou-ouch, you get this kind of ru-u-ush,”

Harry’s eyes fly open and she can hardly contain her laughter, but she continues despite his interjections. 

“What’re you—?”

“If you don’t wanna take it slow and you just wanna take me home—”

“Is that—?”

“Baby say ‘yeah, yeah, yeah,’ yeah, yeah, and let me kiss you—”

“Where did you—?”

“You’re not even listening!” Alani teases through a fit of laughter. “I’m trying to dazzle you with my angelic singing, here,”

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes, his voice lowered as he leans in closer. “Please, continue,”

Alani drapes her arms around his neck and sighs. “That’s all I’ve got, sorry,”

“So much for ‘not a fan,’ huh?”

“It was my sister’s friends—”

“—Sure—”

“—It’s true!” Alani sustains with a playful shove. “You should’ve seen how swoony they got over you, it was kinda cute actually,”

Harry brushes a stray eyelash from her cheek and his mouth turns up softly at the edges. “I see,”

“They were wondering if you’re a good kisser, you know, because of the song and everything,”

“And…”

“And?”

“Well what’s the verdict?”

“I don’t know,” Alani ponders shyly, feigning indecisiveness. “I think I need to refresh my memory.”

Harry head shakes gently with his lower lip caught between his wide grin. He takes a minute to lightly graze the curve of her jaw with his thumb in an effort to convince himself that he isn’t, in fact, dreaming before he connects their mouths. Alani weaves one hand into the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck while the other keeps his palm anchored securely to the side of her face. She had never known a touch so warm or soft; so intoxicating, so safe. It was like an extension of her own body—a familiarity that she had unknowingly craved all along. And with a single kiss, every remaining brick in their emotional fortresses comes crumbling down, trampled under foot like sand. If the eyes were the window to the soul, then their lips were the door: inviting, welcoming, begging the other person to stay forever and evermore. 

Their foreheads meet as they reluctantly pull apart for air; the only sound is their synchronized breathing. The sun had sunken into the sea, but twinkling lights strung across a row of palm trees leaves them in a canopy of golden light. 

“So I think it’s safe to say,” Alani begins softly. “Ten out of ten would kiss again,”

Harry’s head bobs, interlocking their fingers. “I have to agree,”

The whirring of the movie projector disrupts their thoughts and turns their attention towards the screen. Alani’s eyes widen, curious to see what film Harry has chosen for the night. 

“Forgot that I put it on a timer,” he confesses. 

“Be My Baby” by The Ronettes starts over the speakers propped next to their car and Alani immediately recognizes the intro to her all-time favorite movie. 

“Dirty Dancing?” she cries, turning to him with an elated tug on his arm. “No way!”

Harry reaches for the food behind them, but keeps an eye on her to relish in the excitement. “Yes way, had to see what all the fuss was about.”

“You won’t regret it, promise.”

Alani slips her shoes off and hugs her knees to her chest, eyes falling from the screen ahead to Harry beside her. He was constantly finding new ways to exceed her expectations, and just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he raised the bar to unimaginable heights. She wonders what life would be like if he hadn’t stumbled into the café and imagines all the other ways that their paths would have unintentionally crossed, unaware of the bliss that could exist between them. Luckily, Alani will never have to live in a world of such ignorance, a world where Harry’s name doesn’t fall from her tongue as naturally as her own. 

********

“I would have carried that watermelon for you,”

“How romantic,” 

“And I bet we could do that lift,”

“Not a chance,” Alani giggles lightly. “Don’t get any ideas,”

Harry exhales a defeated breath, running the back of his knuckles over Alani’s legs draped across his lap.

“Why not?”

“They probably practiced that for months and had Jennifer Grey rigged up to a wire or something,”

“Nah,” Harry contests. “That’s just what they want you to think so that you don’t try and upstage the actors. Happens all the time in Hollywood,”

Alani’s head turns. “Oh really? And you would know that because…?”

“Music industry, movies, it’s all the same,”

“Sure. So what did you think of the movie? It’s okay if you didn’t love it as much as The Notebook,”

Harry’s head leans against his fist as he studies Alani’s expectant eyes, deep umber and shining in the dim light overhead. They’re the same pigment as the soil after rain and full of just as much vitality. He’d never really had a favorite color, but he suddenly wanted to own every item in exactly the same shade of brown. 

“No, you were right,” he yields. “It’s way better,”

Alani curls into Harry’s side and her cheek rests against his shoulder. “Knew you’d like it,”

“You know me well,”

“I have a question for you,” she poses lightly. 

Harry presses a kiss to her hairline before his chin settles on the crown of her head. “Shoot,”

“How did you do all of this on such short notice?”

The task hadn’t been easy; it involved multiple bribes to each of his friends, though they would have done it for free, and a top secret phone call with Pua. The projector in the studio’s shed that exclusively played DVDs nearly threw a wrench in his entire plan, but Jeff volunteered to search every store on the island for a copy of Dirty Dancing until he emerged from the fourth shop triumphantly. Harry had even hunted down the Angelo from Alani’s favorite restaurant and convinced him to make her raviolis from scratch. He wanted everything to be perfect down to the most minute detail; after all, the girl that he had planned it all for would be. 

“With a little help from my friends,” he hums in the key of The Beatles. 

“Well,” Alani sighs with a feathery kiss to his cheek. “Best first date in the history of first dates,”

“Couldn’t agree more,”

“What was your worst first date?” she pries with a curious wiggle of her brows. 

Harry lifts his head to the glittery night sky above and thinks for a moment before an unpleasant memory resurfaces and makes his nose scrunch. 

“Year ten. There was this girl I really fancied and I practically begged her all term to go out with me,” he laughs lightly. “So she agreed on the very last day of school. A friend of hers was having this party that night and she invited me to tag along. I was so nervous, but you know, things were alright. Well, she disappeared randomly in the middle of the party to go get a drink or something, and when I went to look for her, I caught her making out with some other guy,”

Alani frowns. “I’m so sorry, that’s awful,”

“It’s alright,” Harry chuckles, unaffected. “Wasn’t meant to be. What about you?”

“Probably my freshman year of college,” Alani contemplates. “I was supposed to meet up with this guy that a friend had set me up with. But he was, like, an hour late to the restaurant and didn’t even seem to notice. Then we saw some boring action movie with exploding cars and he was texting on his phone the whole time. I left the theater to ‘go to the bathroom’ and never went back,”

Harry smirks. “Good for you! Sounds like a prick,”

“I honestly don’t know how he didn’t see it coming, I took the bag of popcorn with me,”

“Well it all worked out in my favor, so maybe I should say cheers to the poor sucker,”

Alani raises her bottle of cherry coke to the night sky. “Cheers to terrible first dates!”

“Maybe don’t say that so loud,” Harry suggests with a small laugh. “People might get the wrong idea,”

“Cheers to terrible first dates and this most excellent one!” she corrects. 

“Cheers!”

“I feel like there should be some big musical number and end credits now,”

Harry glances over with a peculiar look in the corner of his eye. “I have an idea,”

“What is it?” Alani questions skeptically. 

“Two words: the lift,”

“No!”

“Come on! Please?”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself. Or me,”

“I won’t,” Harry promises with puppy dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

Alani mulls it over, unable to ignore the kiss that he peppers to her shoulder. “Fine.”

********

“Just bend your needs and jump. I’ll catch you!”

Alani’s toes dig into the sand and her fists clench. Eight feet away at the opposite end of the beach, Harry stands with his arms open and back tall. 

“I’m scared,”

“Don’t be, I’ve got you,”

She takes a deep breath through her nose and exhales out her mouth. Her feet pick up into a jog, then a sprint, and her arms fly out on Harry’s command. Alani leaps and her hands find his shoulders, but she doesn’t get enough air for him to execute the lift. His arms brace her backside as her legs tangle around his waist, but he maintains his balance.  

“See! Gotcha,”

“Did I do it?”

“No,” Harry laughs, highly amused. “But almost! Try again,”

“Harry, I don’t think this is gonna work,”

“Yes it will, love, I believe in you,”

He kisses her nose and sets her back down, running an additional eight feet back. Alani huffs, but she jogs lightly again and springs into the air. Her abdominal muscles tighten in an attempt to strengthen her balance, but she wobbles and clings to Harry with a shriek. He stumbles a few inches and lets out a belly laugh. 

“See, that was better!”

“It was not!”

“At least your legs made it in the air that time,”

“Okay,” Alani pants lightly. “You had your fun,”

“One more try,”

“Harry—”

“Just one!” he pleads. “This is gonna be the one, I can feel it,”

Alani’s eyes pinch shut, but she remembers all of the hard work and sweet gestures that Harry had poured into this date. So much thought had been given to every miniscule detail in the hopes of making it a night that she would never forget. The least she could do was humor him. 

“Okay. Let’s go,” 

“You’ve got it!” 

Her heart pounds with determination as Harry beckons her to join him at the other end. She counts down under her breath before taking off at full speed, feeling the exertion of every muscle in her body. Alani plants her feet directly under her knees and hips, shooting straight up with her arms rooted firmly on Harry’s shoulders. Her heels lift higher and higher off the ground as if they were attached to a string and anchored to the moon. In her mind, she is as graceful as Baby Houseman herself, but the reality is far less picturesque. Harry’s hand slips and he staggers backward; his arms instinctively tighten around Alani’s waist and he brings her body flush with his to break her fall. A grunt escapes his lips as his back meets the sand with a thud, but he manages to crack a smile through his pained expression. 

“Oh my God!” Alani cries, immediately sitting up. “Are you okay?” 

Harry releases a slow, shaky breath. “‘M fine,” 

“Are you hurt?”

“Just a bruised ego,” 

She brushes the curls out of his face and holds back a giggle to no avail. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny,”

“Actually,” Harry coughs, slowly regaining his composure. “It kind of is,”

“We really almost had it that time.”

“S’not as easy as it looks.”

Alani’s head meets the sand parallel to Harry’s and her hand settles on his chest. She watches the rise and fall of his breathing for a moment before her eyes trail up to his. As if the entire night hadn’t already convinced her, this very moment dispels any lingering, microscopic doubt that choosing Harry had been the right decision. It was hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago, Alani had no idea how he felt about her or where they stood. But now, under the full moon and shining stars, Harry looks at her as if she is the only view worth admiring and it tells her more than any word ever could.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okay, onto my liveblog for chapter two of The Hunger Games :

Katniss’ flashback to falling out of a tree and being unable to breathe is such a good analogy, I steal it all the time in my own fics.

I wish the boy who held her up so she didn’t fall was given a name? Katniss just can’t provide names very easily, can she? 😅

“The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn’t mattered” is actually an amazing quotable moment, someone make an edit pronto 👏

No one’s happy when a twelve year old is chosen but ya know. As soon as that kid turns thirteen, off with them! Fair game! 😭😂😅🙃

Hmmm how many of these kids knew immediately Katniss would volunteer for her sister? The way there was a boy ready to catch her before she fell and the way they all just cleared a path for her...

Katniss’ love for Prim had to be prominent because the other kids all seemed to be aware she would volunteer and Katniss claims this is a completely radical, unheard of thing to do. Sooo yeah. Her school peers probably noticed her a lot more than she realized.

Ooo. I just noticed the word choice in “district twelve hasn’t had a volunteer in decades”

Was there a point in time when Twelve had volunteers?

Awww the mayor being sad that Katniss is probably gonna die because he knows her as Madge’s friend 😭😩🤧.

Awww Katniss got presented a medal when her father died, I forgot 🥺🥺🥺

“Bet my buttons” is the worst phrase in history 🤨😐🤭

I like that Katniss’ dead father still has a reputation around these parts 🤧

Helps my fic writing brain to clock it for future reference

Maybe I’m just not nice but I don’t see how Prim is so wonderful that no one can help but love her. Like idk. I feel like this is just Katniss’ bias leaking through. Which is fine it’s better than some clinically detached narrator I hate those FYI

Omg everyone is saluting Katniss and she’s realizing people adore her 🥰🥰

Also ... does this mean Peeta did the three finger salute to her just before being called himself? Idk random thoughts, ignore me.

Katniss is in danger of crying. If this was me, I’d just be sobbing on the ground already.

Haymitch , the og rebel. Looking right into the cameras and calling the Capitol out.

Also ironic how the first thing Haymitch says to / about Katniss is “I like her!” when he spends the rest of the series pretending he, in fact, does not.

“Oh no, not him” is such a love interest introduction, y’all. Gale never stood a chance.

I like how Katniss considers it bad luck for her that Peeta was called 😅. Like... already taking ownership of the boy, sweetheart?

I feel like this is a good time to remind people that medium height is like 5’10. Stop headcanoning Peeta short. Poor Joshy though.

I like how she has never spoken to Peeta but describes the way his hair falls in waves over his forehead 😭🤧

Seems like Katniss thinks Peeta took being called relatively well.

“He has two older brothers, I know, I’ve seen them in the bakery” why is she already trying to defend herself to the audience like “I wasn’t really paying any attention to Peeta Mellark I just happened to notice he had brothers because I saw them once okay?”

Omg Katniss just outright asserting that Peeta’s middle brother definitively won’t volunteer for him. Girl, you just said you don’t know him or his family 😅😅😅.

“Why him?” Still has such a destined, soulmates feel to it. I know they weren’t destined and that’s what a lot of people admire about their relationship but the writing here has always had such a “this guy right here is her soulmate” slant to it, I’m sorry.

“He’s probably forgotten our only interaction. But I haven’t. And I know I never will.” Still continuing with the soulmate-y narration here, Suz Suz, I see.

Oh my god I don’t even remember this line but it’s so sad 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧😩😩😩😩😩

“The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. ‘Where are you?’ I would cry out in my mind. ‘Where have you gone?’”

I’m so sad now. 😭😭😭

I like that Katniss said “no amount of pleading from Prim” would affect her mother’s depression, as if Katniss easily believes that her own pleas don’t matter but her sister’s are what’s impossible to ignore.

She really needs to stop putting Primmy on this pedestal though it’s not as cute the second or third read around.

“I suppose now that my mother was locked in some dark world of sadness, but at the time, all I knew was that I had lost not only a father, but a mother as well.” I feel like this is just criminally undiscussed. Katniss didn’t know or understand or grasp what depression even was. Like it’s hard enough for kids to forgive parents who abandon them to mental illness when they’re aware what mental illness is. Let alone if you’re just stuck for months / years, not knowing that your mother was sick, instead thinking she just stopped caring for you.

Omg Katniss saying she couldn’t let Prim go to a community home 🤧. Selfless of her. But also sister worry about yourself.

I’m just kidding, I know it’s her character to only be concerned with her little sister above all else.

Mr. Everdeen hating how coal dust settled on everything in the Seam is such a small but interesting detail.

Omg so the meadow is a common place to find corpses of those who starved to death? We maybe should stop romanticizing it.

I like that Mr. Everdeen took Katniss places with him but was like “Hmm, imma leave Prim home, she isn’t cut out for the hunting life”

Idk Katniss being too afraid and shy to go to the Hob without her dad is such a little kid thing though.

Katniss explaining that she was essentially in the merchants backyard

She was essentially dying in Peeta’s backyard 🤧

Wow, I forgot how blatantly violent Peeta’s mother was

Maybe it’s just Katniss’ perspective but every interaction is just her screaming

Aww, his mother called him a stupid creature, why don’t I remember this.

This is so sad omg.

Poor both of them.

One’s starving to death, the other’s utterly abused mentally, verbally and physically.

What’s a weal?

I always read that word as a welt.

Ok I googled it, it’s a big red swollen mark.

So same thing.

Omg now Katniss is saying Mrs. Mellark hit him with an object weapon. This just keeps getting more and more.... sad.

Honestly I haven’t read the books cover to cover since I was a teenager, some of this is a surprise to me.

I always wondered though how that bread was any good, it literally fell onto the wet ground. 😟🤢

Aww, Katniss saying Peeta would get a full beat down if discovered that he burned the breads to feed her 🥵🥵🥵

Okay but if his mother hit him with an object and his eye swoll up and blackened the next day, that could be another reason why he tossed the bread in her general direction and didn’t look at her. I know it was so he wouldn’t be caught by his mother but also he probably couldn’t even see clearly where she was.

The dandelion symbolism 🤧😅😭🥳

Her sarcasm 🤣🤣🤣

Katniss just keeps comparing Peeta to the loaves of bread 😅😅😅

Also she keeps calling him warm and solid and steady

I’m starting to think unconsciously she was already finding herself attracted to him even here.

Him squeezing her hand reassuringly and her chalking it up to a nervous spasm 🙃

I hope when they got married they got a nice screencap of this shot of them on TV facing the crowd, shaking hands.

Make a nice anniversary photo.

Okay, that’s all for my thoughts on chapter two! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[asphyxiateher]

Only Monsters Come Out At Night

Chapter 2: Say My Name. A/N: Rough draft I’ll be posting to AO3 later after I go through the edits. Enjoy now, I’ll be polishing it later. I personally would let Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters step on me but that’s just me

Warnings: Character death, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, horror. Elements of non-con. 

              Time had no meaning for Desdemona anymore as her entire being floated comfortably into a quiet void. She was only accompanied by the sweet sound of silence that filled her ears and that in itself was comforting. She was in such a deep state of sleep that it felt like she would be trapped in the peaceful state of purgatory for eternity, but alas that would no longer be the case. Desdemona thought she was dead; in fact, she wanted nothing more than for that to be the case. Unluckily for her, she was about to wake to unfortunate events that would lead her to believe she was trapped in Hell. At first, she sees nothing in her field of vision but then she hears the shrill sound of familiar laughter that sends a shiver down her spine. The black abyss she grew accustomed to deteriorated all around her, a blinding flash of white light surrounds her for the briefest of moments before Desdemona’s eyes finally opened to reveal the disturbing scene before her. “Mother, my pet is finally awake! Oh, I was growing ever so impatient, my darling little one. I was so desperate to peer into those gorgeous eyes of yours again, I was tempted to pluck them out of your skull as you slept.” A voice whispered dangerously into her ears behind her, wet lips gently wrapping around her right ear before it was released with a pop. “Cassandra, you foul thing, learn your place! How many times do I have to say that it was I who found our prize? Do not touch what does NOT belong to you!” Screeched the woman with the green pendant as she materialized by her side in an instant. It didn’t take long for the fact to register that this was the first time that Desdemona could finally get a better look at the women who attacked the group in the village. Now that their hoods were down, she could better identify them by not only their hair color but by the manner of which they spoke and the pendants they wore. The way they continued to fight over her made her stomach turn as she struggled to comprehend why they wanted her alive and what they were going to do with her.

Another black mass of insects appeared and disintegrated into nothing just as quickly as the third woman decided to chime in, her yellow pendant gleaming brightly against the dimly lit room. Her dirtied, dark brown hair tickled Desdemona’s face as she leaned dangerously over her, the smirk on her face growing wider when Desdemona’s breath grew heavy again. She raised her hand and playfully walked two fingers up Desdemona’s arm and over her collarbone before she roughly grasped her prey’s chin and forced her to look directly into her eyes. “Hello, pretty little plaything, you’ll find that my sisters lack manners when they’re lusting over irresistible blood. You should feel honored you made quite the impression as you did. The others you brought with you are undeserving of your company and you’ll find that they deserve punishment simply by existing. Mother will see to that soon enough.” The brunette told her quietly as she straightened back up.

‘Wait, what did she mean by punishing the others for simply existing? Where were Desmond and Veronica?’ Desdemona worriedly thought to herself. The younger Hawthorne sibling attempted to move but she didn’t realize her wrists were restrained by old fashioned shackles until it was too late. She suddenly felt herself being lifted to her feet by the two crazed sisters standing on either side of her. Each woman occasionally nuzzled into her neck and sniffed at her, nipping at her and licking exposed skin whenever the impulse struck.

Desdemona glanced around her environment and realized that they must be inside the castle if the polished flooring, centuries old artwork and beautiful grand staircase were of any indication. Where else would they be after getting lost out on the trail?

The frightened young woman made the mistake of looking over to her left and found that the red-haired woman known as Daniela was staring at her with a glazed look in her eyes. The sight of her lips parting and blowing her a small kiss made Desdemona’s heart nearly jump out of her throat. She couldn’t avert her gaze out of fear and Daniela took that as an invitation to flirt the only way she knew how. She brought two fingers to her face, spaced them out to a “V” shape and made an obscene gesture with her unusually long tongue, moaning loudly when Desdemona blushed and looked away. “Don’t be shy, my love. Once we take care of Mother’s unwanted pests, we can finally be alone together and I’ll taste you once and for all. You’ll find that I do want to eat you but only in the best way possible. You wouldn’t deny me the pleasure, would you?” Daniela growls out, her eyes fluttering shut as the sound of Desdemona’s blood rushing through her veins and her rapidly beating heart thudding against her chest awakened a whole new need in Daniela. Desdemona wanted to cry out but refrained from doing so when she realized somebody else was coming.

Heels could be heard clicking from afar, a door slamming open and voices shouting in protest behind what seemed to be an impossibly tall, statuesque women. Desdemona’s jaw dropped for two reasons: The woman who entered the room dramatically exuded such class and confidence that it didn’t look awkward in the manner in which she had to bend so far low to pass through the doorway. When she uncurled herself from the uncomfortable position, her golden eyes met gray uncertain ones and they immediately pierced through Desdemona’s soul. The woman brought out a whole new level of terror within her. The second reason Desdemona’s mouth remained agape was due to the fact that the mysterious woman dragged along the wounded bodies of both Desmond and Veronica.

‘They’re still alive!’ Desdemona thought, hope rising in her chest the moment she saw both her best friend and twin reacting to her presence. “Des, you’re okay! Christ, the way these fucking things were talking about you, I thought the worst happened.” Desmond called out to her, desperation in his voice as he attempted to crawl his way towards his sister. Veronica tried to break free from the intimidating woman’s grasp but the woman merely raised a perfectly manicured brow in response and tugged on the chains wrapped around both Desmond and Veronica. They had collars clasped tightly around their necks and they choked as a result of the chains being pulled back.

When Veronica glanced back at Desdemona, the furious expression on her face softened when she noticed the bedraggled state her friend was in. Desmond noticed it too and it only served to fuel his anger. “What the fuck did they do to you? I’ll kill them, I’ll slit their fucking throats and make them pay if they so much as tried to ra-,” Veronica began but was immediately cut off with a harsh slap to the face. “Goddamn, bitch!” “Silence, vermin! Speak when you’re spoken to or you’ll learn your place soon enough should you continue to use foul language in my house. Now, pray tell my daughters, what is it that has you all so eager about entertaining this particular foreigner?” The elegant woman asks as she gives Desdemona a once over. The manner in how she reacts to inhaling Desdemona’s scent alarms the younger Hawthorne sibling. She decides to inspect her more closel with flared nostrils and enlarged pupils. She seemed…pleased, for whatever reason. ‘Do they plan on sacrificing you to appease whatever wicked deity they believe in?’ Desdemona nervously asked herself.

One of the daughters, the one known as Bela and the one with the red pendant, spoke first. “We were out on the hunt in the village when I suddenly picked up on her delicious scent, mother. She’s a carrier of our favorite blood type. We haven’t had anyone like her in so long, we were hoping we could make a feast of her with your permission.”

Desdemona tensed up at the suggestion and vigorously shook her head. “M-may I ask what w-we did to offend you and your daughters? I apologize for any wrongdoing, ma’am but we’re just Americans on vacation and we ran out of gas on the way to Bran! We weren’t expecting to get lost but please let us go, we didn’t come out here to hurt anyone!” She pleaded with tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes flicking from Daniela to Cassandra and finally, the incredibly powerful woman standing before.

“Des, don’t go begging them. They’re not going to listen to reason, believe me; we tried!” Desmond warned.

The quiet dark-haired woman, Cassandra, sneered at Desdemona’s twin and slashed at his face with her sickle in hand. Desmond cries out and attempts to cover his face with his cuffed hands only to have them ripped away. She kicks his chest and flattens him on the ground. Cassandra smiles wickedly as she brings her heel to the open cut and presses hard against his face for a moment, stomping on him a few times for good measure. Both Veronica and Desdemona scream, begging the sadistic sister to stop tormenting him but their pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Good, girl, Cassandra. The hideous man-thing won’t shut his hole. I’m this close to gutting him on my newly polished floor and letting you girls get your fill for the evening. Ugh!” The woman in charge said before looking over to you once again. “It seems your exotic little treat has good manners considering what she is, however, and wishes to bargain with us. I can be a most gracious host and I’m all ears but I have two conditions if you wish to prolong your life, little one. Allow me to introduce myself first. I am Countess Alcina Dimitrescu and these beautiful girls of mine are my daughters Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela.”  

Veronica scoffed and spat at the floor, earning a glare from the titan of a woman who was apparently on the edge of snapping. Desdemona was ready to leave in one piece so of course she stepped in and spoke on behalf of her brother and her furious friend. “P-pleasure to meet you all, I’m Desdemona Hawthorne and that’s my twin brother, Desmond and my childhood friend Veronica. Ma’am, or My Lady, this all has to be a colossal misunderstanding and we are willing to pay any price if you allow us to leave and return home.”

The trembling girl gasped the moment she felt a pair of cold hands wrap themselves around her breasts from behind. Another set of hands reached for her belt buckle and began undoing her jeans rather enthusiastically. The next thing she knew, her v-neck shirt had been torn in half and her pants torn and ripped off her body.

“Desdemona, such a lovely name and what a lovely body. Mother, please let me keep her? I promise I won’t break her.” Daniela whined as she rubbed her hands up and down the length of her victim’s bare torso. It didn’t help the situation at hand when Daniela’s touch left Desdemona arching back into her, which must have sent the wrong signal because the delusional woman squealed with delight.

“If you or Cassandra had it your way, you’d bleed her dry on the first night and waste her blood when I would savor every inch of her until her very last moment!” Bela complained, her fingers inching dreadfully closer to the band of her undergarments.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off my sister, you twisted bitches. Stop fucking touching her! I’ll kill you, I swear it!” Desmond bellowed, managing to pull away from Lady Dimitrescu’s clutches and lunged at the women that were touching his twin inappropriately. He swung his arms at Daniela and used the length of the chain to whip against the side of her body. Daniela, caught off guard by his sudden attack, screeched in surprise and this immediately angered Alcina.

“ENOUGH!” Lady Dimitrescu signaled for her daughters to apprehend Desmond and the girls obliged, their concern for Daniela overwhelming even to them. Bela and Cassandra ambushed him on either side and using their transformative powers, they pulled him away from their youngest sibling and slammed his body against the nearest wall. Cassandra pinned his shackled hands above his head while Bela held onto his thrashing legs tightly.

Veronica was breathing heavily but made no move to run to him, not while Alcina held her leash tightly. Her brows were furrowed, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as she tried to refrain from saying anything that would cause them to harm Desmond.

Desdemona could only cry out for mercy as it physically pained her to watch her own twin suffer at the hands of these monsters.

Meanwhile, Alcina had been hunched over Daniela and whispered disturbingly soothing things into her daughter’s ears, words expressed by a loving mother to her daughter, and it looked almost normal. When Alcina stepped away from Daniela, she composed herself after displaying what she deemed a moment of vulnerability and shot Desmond a withering glare. “How dare you touch my daughter with your filthy man-hands, you wretched creature. I can see there is no taming a wild animal like you and like all wild animals, they must be put down! I was ready to lay down my conditions if I were to let you leave alive but you really screwed yourself. Desdemona Hawthorne, seeing as you were polite and tried to communicate in a manner I found pleasing, you shall be gifted to my daughters as their personal form of entertainment. You will be their plaything, and your trashy friend, Veronica, who is now under my employ as a house maiden, will be forced to clean you up after every time they choose to play with you. She will be beaten and broken until she learns what it is to be obedient.” Alcina growls out menacingly, enjoying the way Veronica begins to hyperventilate at the terrifying concept of being broken in by someone like Lady Dimitrescu. Alcina drags Veronica across the room as she approaches Desmond and Veronica is now desperately trying to claw her away from the elegant countess. Raising her free hand in the air, sharp elongated claws form almost immediately at the tips of her fingers. It was in this moment that panic begins to set within Desdemona as she realizes what she’s about to do and so she attempts to rush Lady Dimitrescu. Daniela is quick to catch her prey and uses force to subdue Desdemona. She slams her knee against Desdemona’s back and brings her down to her knees, hooking both of her arms from around and underneath the smaller girl and forcefully raises her arms up. “Let this be a hard lesson, my darling. Don’t you ever disrespect my mother in her own home or disobey her when she gives you an order. There are worst things than death, love, and they wander the mansion unsupervised at night.” Daniela whispers into Desdemona’s ears before bringing her attention back to her mother. Heart hammering against her chest, Desdemona’s blood runs cold when she sees Desmond shed a tear at the realization that he was going to pay the ultimate price. In a quivering voice, Desmond beckons his sister to look at him one final time.

‘Oh no, no no no. They can’t do this, they won’t do this! I have to help him. I’m not sure I can live without my other half, it would be too cruel for me to go on without him!’ Desdemona thinks, weeping at the sight of her twin brother sacrificing his own life for hers. “P-please, my l-lady, let him go I beg you! Don’t hurt him please, I’ll do anything if you let him go. Don’t take him away from me, please.” Desdemona begs. Steely gray eyes meet hers and she recognizes that he is resigned to his fate. She sucks in a deep breath, unwilling to break eye contact as he says his final goodbye. “See you on the other side, Dezzy. Promise me you’ll make it out of here. Mom deserves to know. I love you and V…so very much.” He tells her with a wavering voice. In the background, Veronica is verbalizing her objections and pleads for Desmond’s freedom but in the end, it was all for naught.

With an evil smirk and a deep chuckle, Alcina brings down her claw at Desmond’s abdomen, slashing him so deeply that his innards begin to seep out of him.

Desdemona feels like she’s suffocating, her lungs unable to function as she struggles to make a sound no matter how much she wants to cry out her brother’s name one more time. She throws her head back and opens her mouth to wail but nothing comes out but a few choked coughs. The surviving twin couldn’t explain it but it felt like Alcina personally reached into her chest and destroyed the most important part of her being. Desmond was her other half and upon death, a most profound connection between siblings is severed and there lies nothing left but an echo of what was once there. Desdemona felt…empty, as if she would never be whole again now that her brother was gone.

She shuts her eyes and the horrifying image of Desmond’s intestines piling up on the floor and blood sloshing everywhere replays again in her mind. The hurt is renewed and this time, she summons every ounce of emotion she could as she screams out his name, Veronica’s loud, panicked screaming fueling her grief.

“DESMOND!”

She screams it over and over again until her body slumps in Daniela’s arms. She’s too weak to do anything else. She can hear voices and the sound of heels clicking but she can’t hear what is being said. Desdemona tries her very best to drown out the background noise as her sorrow was too great but Cassandra’s voice breaks her out of her reverie and it is what she murmurs in Desdemona’s ears as she passes by that makes her whimper for an entirely different reason.

“Just you wait until I make you say my name like a prayer, love. This is only the beginning.”

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Hiya!!! Could you write a scenario where jean gets in another dumb fight with Eren and the readers patches him up and scolds him for getting in a fight cuz it makes them worried and they confess their feelings at the end?? Thank you and no worries if you don’t wanna write this ❤️ also please tag me if you do write this

Omg I live writing requests like this one bc Jean doesn't get enough love. Thanks for requesting and sorry it took so long! @two-rolls-of-tape

Warnings: none I guess this is just fluffy, but it does involve a minor description of reader patching up Jean but since I'm squimish my self I've kept it on the low

__

"I can't believe you!"

"aw come on pretty please y/n, Sasha is going to beat me to death it's the third time this week!"

"that's exactly what I'm saying!"

For anyone, it would be normal to assume that Jean's and Eren's bickering would eventually stop after everything that they had been through together as comrades. For some it's a given fact that after something as traumatic as these boys went through happens you kind of stop being fifteen an feisty. But hormones are hormones and puberty ones hit you as hard as it gets. Everyone is awfully aware of that.

Although teenage hormones and newly rushes of testosterine are not an excuse for this constant bickering, not anymore that is according to the Captain, you can't help but bite into it and help Jean. He's always got that like a mantra at the tip of his tongue 'it's not my fault' 'i can't help it' 'he gets on my nerves', some of the few lines he pops up every time he has Sasha stich him up. You're always there, always helping, but you never actually stitch him up, one because you're also sixteen and as any typical teenager you have a crush and two because you crush is him.

Jean's eyes are glimmering with plea as he stares at you, signaling you to let him in in an unspoken way. And you do as his eyes tell you mostly because you don't feel like having to deal with seconds thoughts after that. You are soldier after all, this comes higher in hierarchy than being a teenager.

You sit him down on the wooden floor by the edge of your dorm bed, your supplies neatly sitting next to you in an old medical box. Momentarily, you make a note to yourself to clean any rust on it once the morning sun crept in your window.

Jean is stiff as he takes a look at your candle lit illuminated face. You have a few superficial scars here and there, but as far as he knows, puberty is going to eliminate them before you manage to make new ones. With titans not in the picture anymore you won't have to wound yourself for sometime.

"care to tell me what happened this time?" You ask with a tiny pinch of salt that Jean catches a soon as it leaves your mouth.

"Eren said something that I didn't like." He briefly looks away, embarrassed in the tiniest bit.

"Let me guess. Mikasa said something about being devoted to him and you got super mad and you told Eren off and then he spoke with the worst remark on the history and you got mad."

He flinches, suddenly as you toss him your shirt.

"here, bite this"

"your shirt?"

"Jean I ready don't have anything else"

He flinches once again when the needle pierces his forearm. He knows he eventually has to bite onto that cloth but he's embarrassed since it smells like you and also since your face is so close to his.

" If you come any closer I might-" Why does he even feel a need to ruin this.

" shut up, Jean boy"

" I'll get boogers"

"you really are something right, your brain is like on another level of thinking." You're proud of your remark until it hits you that you're no better than him for trying to tease him. Especially when he's not into you. You focus on the opening on his arm for now. It's obvious Eren threw him at the edge of a table by the way it's opened up so you make sure to check for any more splinters as you go.

It doesn't really take much time for you to finish patching him as a matter of fact, but you really enjoy that blushed look on his face.

"you shouldn't get into these fights. It's childish, and it makes me worried about you."

This isn't something he expect you to mouth with such ease.

"well I won't if you tell your sweet Eren to stop getting on my nerves."

"my sweet Eren?" This is confusing to say at least, but you can't not think superficially at the moment. Teenage hormones should be your excuse for once too. "Weren't you like super in love with Mikasa?"

" yeah b-but no. Eren said you two kissed."

"Jean this is not a reason to get into a fight with him"

"so you're not denying it"

"of course I didn't kiss Eren. You should have known better than to believe him. He's a friend but he keeps hurting you when I've told him to be patient with you."

"you've told Eren to be patient with me?" Jean can feel his blood boil at the hearing of that. He doesn't need Eren to show him any pity.

"yes, because seriously we're all drained an tiredz so be patient with him too, please? For me?"

He avoids looking at you and your semi sassy tone because his ego is hurt and because if he looks at you he will snap. You on the other hand keep pushing him to speak as you start to take a better mental grip of this whole new level of information you've got.

"don't take Eren's side when as you said he lied about kissing you."

"I'm not, he does that to get on my nerves. And if Mikasa isn't mad about it then she's in it as well."

Coming to think of it, Mikasa didn't even bat an eye when Eren spoke those words. How could he have not seen it earlier. He's still confused about why this had happened, though.

"wait why? Why would he want to get on your nerves if he doesn't like you."

You sigh, deeply, in despair. He definitely has shit for brains, the captain is right. He really has never noticed your liking in him.

" because, Jean boy." You squat before him and ruffle his hair in a way you know he hates. "I like you. And the guys are always on my ass teasing me about it."

Jean shakes his head in disbelief as you get up from your squatting position. His hand is on yours, stopping you in your track before you know it. How can you be so casual about this, when he can already feel his cheeks glow red and his heart trying to escape from between his ribs.

"So you didn't kiss Eren?"At this point it's only fair that you bang your head against the wall, but you're not as thick skulled as Jean.

"Jean for the last time i-"

Before you know it he's up and his hands are on the sides of your face, pulling them with a somewhat painful force. It takes a moment for you to realise that Jean, is in fact kissing you, not just shoving his face into yours to bump his forehead against yours.

"thank you"

"Did she seriously say thank you?"

"they're a lost cause I'm telling ya"

You easily recognize Mikasa's and Sasha's voices from outside of the room but you can't even master up the courage to form a right sentence in front of Jean right now, so you'll have to deal with their eavesdropping later.

[araluenrangerdanger]

Okay thanks for reading-but can you make a crawlt fanfic with Halt thinking that Crowley is dying, so he slowly sings "far too young to die" by Panic! At The Disco, and then makes out with him, because why the hell not?

I am so, so late with this, but: tw: head injury, blood, injury, violence

I hope you enjoy 

Halt and Crowley had been waiting for this moment the last six hours. They had info that the bandit group took this road every second week, and today was the day.

A few weeks ago, a message came to Castle Araluen. It was from the north side of the Araluen fief, a fief that, by all standards, was now Crowley’s.

It was a few weeks after Pritchard’s death. The two young Rangers were grieving, but criminals never took breaks. Crowley was still heavily burdened by the weight of all paperwork that he had to sort (it seemed as if Stilson intentionally left the office in the biggest mess he could before he was kicked out of the Corps for good) and all the other responsibilities that came with reinstating the Ranger Corps, finding new apprentices, trying to keep everything running and the crime in fiefs that didn’t have their own Rangers in check, and of course, the past weeks had been silent torture.

When Halt had returned from Castle Gorlan with the news of Pritchard’s death, he already had several days to take it all in, and composed himself as much as he could before coming to Araluen. Crowley, however, didn’t have that luxury, which resulted in Halt delivering the news, and both of them broke down, remembering their mentor. It was the only time Crowley saw Halt cry.

The two of them dove into work, both silent and effective, without Crowley whistling or cracking his usual jokes. It was inappropriate. Death had always been a part of a Ranger’s job, but neither of them considered just how real it could be. At least Crowley and Halt managed to clear out some paperwork, and a month after Pritchard’s death, Farrel joined them in their work, seeing as he broke his leg when pursuing Morgarath.

Together, they managed to deal with most of the paperwork, but piles of it were still waiting for them.

However, the message came one hot summer afternoon. Crowley and Halt had been filling out forms and trying to figure out what to do with Redmont fief (as the Ranger’s spot was currently vacant since Farrel was on sick leave), the window was opened, but neither that nor the cool castle walls helped them escape the heat. Crowley got rid of his shirt altogether while Halt and Farrel only rolled up their sleeves.

“I don’t mean to order you around, Crowley,” Farrel remarked. “But maybe you should put the shirt back on. Maybe not because someone could come in, but otherwise Halt might overheat.” He told everything with a smile, watching as Crowley saw Halt’s red face as the Hibernian Ranger hid behind a pile of paperwork, and sheepishly put his shirt back on, leaving it loosely unbuttoned.

That was the ice breaking in their relationship, and the grieving atmosphere lifted. Halt and Crowley knew they were attracted to each other, but never expressed anything more than friendship gestures. If something happened to either of them, they didn’t want to experience heartbreak again in such a short period of time.

The message they got was clear. There was a group of bandits in the northern part of the Araluen fief, and therefore, they needed to be stopped. Crowley also saw this as an opportunity for Halt to show some more skills Pritchard taught him - who was he kidding, of course, he used the opportunity to spend more time with him, sharing a tent once again, just like in the good old times when they were getting the rebellious Rangers together.

The two young Rangers left the next day at dawn, travelling to the villages and gathering information about stolen goods, people who had become their targets, and the travelling routes the bandits took.

So here they were, both hidden in the bushes along a small forest clearing. Halt sat with his cowl over his head, unmoving, an arrow nocked in his bow, waiting for the bandits to come. Crowley sat a few meters away, mimicking Halt’s movements, also prepared.

Nothing happened for hours until they could hear hoofbeats. The Rangers stilled, knowing that any movement could cost them the element of surprise they had on their side. However, they planned on offering the bandits one chance to give up without a fight. They just needed to surprise them.

As soon as the group arrived at the clearing, riding mules and old horses, Crowley stepped out from the bush he was hiding in, and called in a sonorous voice: “King’s Ranger! Stop and surrender!”

The bandits stopped their horses, drawing their weapons and, in some cases, also stolen swords.

Their leader was a big, burly man whose teeth were missing in several places, and he now turned to his companions.

“Rangers aren’t what they used to be! This one must be one of those pompous idiots, can’t even harm a fly!” he laughed, mocking the Ranger Corps. Crowley gritted his teeth. Those vain insults wouldn’t make him angry, they wouldn’t. He knew that the Corps wasn’t what it used to be, and he and the others were doing everything they could to make it better again.

“I am giving you a warning, surrender, or see how fast I can be,” Crowley called again, losing patience with these guys. Fortunately, he knew that Halt and he could take them all on, and they still had the element of surprise, as the bandits didn’t know Halt was ever there.

The bandits cried with laughter.

“What are you gonna do, go to mommy to cry?” their leader asked before pointing his sword at Crowley. “Let’s get this over with. Kill him!”

In that moment, several bandits nudged their steeds and started moving. At the same time, Crowley let go of the arrow in his bowstring, hitting the leader’s calf, and another arrow came flying through the side, taking down another one of the men.

The action started, Halt came out of his hiding spot and fired an arrow after arrow. Crowley stepped into the shadows of a tree, knowing that it would be impossible for riders to turn their horses so quickly. Furthermore, they couldn’t go after him; they had to dismount first.

While Halt was dealing with three of the bandits, successfully shooting one into his thigh and killing the other, having trouble only with the third one, Crowley had to fight off six of them. He shot three of them before stumbling backwards as one of them tried to decapitate him with a sword. The Ranger regained his balance, his bow, however, got stuck in the tree’s branches.

“Crap!” he cursed, not having the time to try and free his bow. It was stuck for the rest of the fight, and Crowley desperately reached for his knives.

The Ranger turned around just in time to see a man trying to hit him with a hammer, but Crowley was quicker. He grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it, making him drop the hammer. With a well-aimed kick to the stomach, Crowley sent him to the ground. Then, he quickly looked at the distance the other two attackers had.

One was already charging at him and the Ranger knew he had to act quickly. In one smooth motion, he let go of his throwing knife, not waiting to watch as it sunk into the man’s chest.

The last man came in too quickly though. Crowley didn’t have time to retrieve his throwing knife or apply the double-knife defense. He was stuck, and when the bandit’s sword collided with his Saxe knife and sent it flying, he regretted the choices he made.

Crowley’s eyes widened as he realized that he had nothing to defend himself with, and he immediately ducked as the man swung the sword where his head had been just a few seconds ago. The man seemed surprised, allowing the Ranger to send him to a dream world with a good punch.

Crowley was about to go retrieve his knives when he heard Halt’s cry of “Look out!”. The next moment, an arrow flew past him. Halt had seen the man who had a hammer sneaking up on Crowley and swinging the hammer. In the next second, the man threw the hammer and let out a squeak as Halt’s arrow struck him in the chest, killing him on the spot. However, the hammer was flying and Crowley wasn’t fast enough. With a loud thud, the hammer collided with his head, sending him unconscious to the ground.

Halt gasped.

“Crowley!” he called, running to his friend. The red-haired Ranger laid on the grass, a trail of blood colouring his red hair an even darker shade of red, his eyes closed. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

“Crowley!” Halt repeated forcefully, trying to find a pulse on his neck. He panicked when he couldn’t find it, his eyes widening with a silent plea.

“No, no, no no,” he repeated frantically, trying again, but Crowley was either dead or his pulse was so weak that he couldn’t find it.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Crowley! I can’t go through this again!” he yelled. He couldn’t lose them both. He couldn’t lose Pritchard and Crowley in the span of just a few months.

Hearing no response, Halt sunk to his knees. His lips moved on their own, and he started singing, his voice raspy and filled with sadness:

“While the crown lies heavy on either side,

give me one last kiss while we’re far too young to die.”

Halt closed his eyes, letting the tears fall. All the bandits were forgotten, now there was only Crowley and him.

Suddenly, a second, faint voice, said: “Well, I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me.”

Halt’s eyes snapped open. Sure enough, there he was, blood still dripping down his temple, but his hazel eyes were looking up at him, and he was grinning.

The Hibernian Ranger gasped, but then grabbed him by his shirt and leaned in to kiss him.

It lasted just several seconds, but both men enjoyed the soft lips of the other, and broke the kiss, both red in the face.

“And don’t ever do that to me again!” Halt nudged him in the arm to be clear. “Do you know how worried I was?”

Crowley smiled at him weakly.

“I won’t Halt, but if I got a kiss like this every time you were worried about me…”

Halt wiped his eyes with his sleeve, his expression dark.

“Don’t you dare,” he started before he was pulled down by Crowley for another kiss. The usually grumpy Ranger just melted into it and kissed Crowley back, happy that he was alright and would heal.

The two broke the kiss, smiling at each other before Crowley groaned in pain.

“That was great, Halt, but please help me stop the bleeding, otherwise I might really die.”

He watched, amused, as Halt panicked once more.  

[sherrybaby14]

Bucky’s Bride

Request: Bucky stalks Y/N, pretends to be her friend, gets jealous that she's engaged, she's saving herself for marriage and her jerk groom is leaves her on the aisle. Or in other words Bucky steals the bride. 😉

 Warnings:  Noncon (Please do not read if this offends you), loss of virginity, smut

 Words: 8K

              The cover of the magazine was a smiling bride, decked out in a beautiful lace number.  The headlines read ‘Dream Honeymoon’ and ‘Ten Best Bridesmaid’s Gifts’. You weren’t planning on a honeymoon or having bridesmaids.  But your fiancé was getting annoyed with your lack of caring about the wedding, so you reached for the rag.  

            “Excuse me.”  A stranger went for the same magazine and you grazed hands.  

            “Sorry.”  You turned to see beautiful blue eyes and a handsome smile. His face was enough to make you blink twice.  “Go ahead.”

            “Thanks.”  He grabbed two copies of the bridal magazine and handed one to you.  “Getting married?”  

            “Yeah.”  You nodded. “You?”  

            “Congratulations.  A beauty like you, I’m not surprised someone popped the question as soon as they could.” He smiled a million-dollar smile. You felt like the only one in the store. “No.  No marriage for me.”  

            “You just like bridal magazines?”  You tried not the think about the compliment, not used to hearing such things.  

            He erupted in laughter and threw his head back.  You glanced from side to side, unsure why this handsome man was even paying you a lick of attention.  

            “I own a catering business.”  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a card. “Research.  I have to stay on top of wedding trends.”

            You took the card and nodded, realizing you were just a mark.  

            “I’m planning on a courthouse wedding.  Maybe a small dinner after.”  You handed the card back.  “Not in the market for a caterer.”  

            “That sounds like a lovely wedding.”  He pushed your hand.  “I was only showing that I’m not some weirdo collecting bridal magazines. Keep it.”  

            You looked at the front:  James Buchanan Barnes, owner ‘Longing Rusted’ restaurant and catering.

            “This is the most popular restaurant in the city.” You’d heard stories of a month-long waitlist.  “You’re Bucky Barnes?”

            “Guilty.”  He smiled.

            You looked him up and down, suddenly feeling self-conscious.  His clothes probably cost more than your rent.   You wanted to get away from the intimidating man, buying the magazine was no longer worth it, but not wanting to bolt from the store.

            “Hold on one second.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a buzzing phone.  “Hello.”

            Bucky had turned to answer the thing and you used the opportunity to accomplish option two, dropping the magazine as you left the shop and walked out on to the busy New York street.  

           It was rude, but the man was a celebrity around the city, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself more than you already had. Your fiancé could deal with thinking you didn’t care about the wedding a bit longer.

 ~~

           “Come on out.  I am sure that one is perfect for you.”  The Bridal consultant was starting to sound annoyed.  

            “I told you, it’s just a courthouse wedding.” You sighed, the ballgown over the top, as you opened the door from the fitting room.  “This is way too much.”  

            “But you look gorgeous!”  She tightened the fasteners and led you over to the pedestal. “I thought you said your fiancé wanted a more traditional look.  This is a traditional bride.”  

            “It’s not me.”  You hiked up the skirt.  “I don’t even care if the thing is white, to be honest.”  

            “If it isn’t the runaway bride?”  A voice made you turn your head.

           There stood Bucky Barnes, a smile on his face as he rested his arm on the wall.  

            “What are you doing here?”  It had been two weeks since the magazine incident and all you could do was stare at him in shock.

            “Stalking you of course.” He raised his eyebrows.

            “Mr. Barnes.”  Your consultant glared at you before going to kiss Bucky on the cheek. “I have the samples at the front of the store.”    

            “Most people at least say goodbye.”  He pushed off the wall and walked toward you. “Where was the fire?”

           You make me uncomfortable.  Why are you talking to me anyway?  That was what ran through your head.  

            “You’re a busy man.  I didn’t want to waste your time.”  You fidgeted, feeling his eyes on you.  

            “That dress doesn’t suit you at all.”  He frowned.  “Where’s your bridal party?  Mom?  Friends? You need some extra opinions.”  

            “Couldn’t make it.”  You wanted out of the dress.  “They’re coming in for the wedding.  I haven’t lived in New York very long and they can’t afford to come out for all the little stuff.  Really the only person in my life who seems to care about the wedding stuff is my fiancé.”

            “Then where is he?”  Bucky folded his arms.  

            “Doesn’t want to see the bride in the dress before the wedding.”  You felt tears sting your eyes.  

            “Woah.” He reached out and grabbed your arm.  “Is everything okay?”

            “I’m fine.”  You wiped your eyes before a drop fell.

            “Come on.”  He led you off the pedestal.  “Get changed. I’m getting you out of here.”

            “It’s okay. Really.”  You didn’t object as he guided you to the fitting room.

            “The only tears allowed in a bridal shop are tears of joy.”  He stopped at the door.  “I’m not taking no for an answer.  Get changed.”

            You sighed and felt some relief as the door shut. Wanting the gown off of you more than you realized.  It didn’t take long until you were back in your jeans and sweater.  

            “I should really get home.”  You grabbed your purse before opening the door.  “And I’m sure you have some reason for the samples you need to get to.”

            “A client wants the appetizers to be influenced by her dress.”  Bucky laughed.  “The same texture as the fabric.  A picture wasn’t good enough.”

            “Really?”  That sounded so absurd to you.  “Man I am not cut out for weddings.”  

           “What makes you say that?”  Bucky grabbed an envelope from the consultant who didn’t even bother saying goodbye to you.  

            “All I want is the courthouse, a small dinner with close family.  I’d rather get married in this than that.”  You pushed open the door to the bridal shop.  “Ugh, I do not need to unload on you like this.  You’re a stranger.”

            “I’m around a lot of brides.  You don’t fit the mold.”  Bucky ignored your last comment.  “Most are excited about the dress, and the lavish party. Celebrating their love.”

            “I don’t want the attention and it’s a waste of money.” You sighed as you looked up.  “But my fiancé is getting annoyed with my lack of caring.”  

            “Well if he wants the big wedding make him plan it?” Bucky stopped a few stores down and pulled open the door to a coffee shop.  

            “I brought that up, but he doesn’t want to wait any longer. Plus he doesn’t even have a guest list.  Not inviting a soul.”  You went to the counter.  “He’d rather I get my wedding with bits of his suggestions thrown in.”  

            “Like a ballgown?”  Bucky pulled out his wallet.  “Two black coffees.”  

            “Lucky guess.  I take my coffee black.”  You were happy for the change in subject.  

            “No luck.”  Bucky winked at you.  “I’m a stalker, remember?”

           “Right.”  You laughed. “How could I forget?”  

            “So why the rush?”  Bucky took both coffees and nodded his head to a booth.  “With the wedding?”

            “We’ve been together for six months, he proposed. Doesn’t want to wait any longer.” You slid into the seat and took your coffee.  “And I’ve kept him waiting long enough.”  

           Bucky’s eyes went wide at the innuendo.  

            “He’s been patient.  It was important to me to wait for marriage.”  You felt your face get hot.  It was the reaction everyone you told had.  You were crazy.  How old were you?  Why wait? What was the big deal?  “I don’t expect you to understand.”  

            “There’s nothing wrong with values.”  He gave a warm smile.  

            “This coming from the man who takes a new model to every opening?”  You raised your eyebrows.

           “Hey.”  Bucky swatted your hand.  “Now who is the stalker?”  

            “I may have googled you after our last run-in.”  You felt yourself relax at the confession. “You’re accomplished.  You should be proud.”  

            “What about you Y/N?”  He leaned back.  “What do you do for work?”

            You chatted away about yourself.  Shocked at how easy he was to talk to, giving little to no thought to the wedding dress debacle.  

~~

           Calling around hadn’t worked, every place was booked. You thought if you made a plea in person someone might give, but you’d already crossed off your first two choices and your heart was heavy as you walked into your third.

            “How many?” The hostess grabbed a menu.

           “Actually, I was hoping to make a reservation for three weeks from Friday, for twelve people?”  You thought three weeks' notice was plenty of time.  

            “Shouldn’t be a problem.”  The hostess pulled out a notebook.

            That was a good sign.  This place didn’t even use computers.  They had to have an opening.

            “That’s strange.”  She frowned.  “We’re completely booked.”

            “I didn’t even say the time yet.”  Your stomach started to ache.

            “Maybe we’re closed or something.”  She turned the book to show you red blocking out the entire thing.  

            “On a Friday?”  You thought you were going to throw up.

            “Why is it whenever I see you, you’re in distress?” The familiar voice calmed you.    

            Bucky was right behind you with his million-dollar smile. After your last run in he was the closest thing you had to a friend in the city and you didn’t hesitate to fall into his chest and start sobbing.  

            “Hey.”  He rubbed your back.  “Shhh. It’s okay.”

            He didn’t ask you any questions.  Just held you as you cried.  It was a week since your trip to the coffee shop.  You didn’t exchange numbers or anything, he probably didn’t even remember your name.

            “Shhhh.”  He held you as he walked you to a corner of the restaurant and sat down in a booth, pulling you against him.

            You cried and cried and cried.

            “Here.”  He brought a glass of water to his chest and you hiccuped as you took a sip. “Everything will be okay.”  

            “I’ve tried every restaurant and they’re all booked.” You lifted your head.  “I haven’t had time to find a dress.  My fiancé won’t help at all, but then he is mad at me for not doing enough and I don’t even care.”  

            “Did you try my recommendations?”  Bucky didn’t stop rubbing your back.  

            “Yes!”  You wiped your face and took more water.  “All but two. I even name-dropped you.”

            That experience had made you cringe, and you weren’t going to repeat the mistake.  

            “The marriage matters more than the wedding.” Bucky smiled at you.  “A lifetime of happiness.  Think of that.”  

            “The way I keep screwing up.”  You leaned back in the booth.  “And he’s been so busy at work with some new client.  We haven’t even seen each other.  It’s so stressful and I feel so alone.”  

            “That settles it.”  Bucky grabbed your shoulder.  “You’re having your wedding dinner at my restaurant.”

            “Thank you.”  You rolled your eyes.  “But you’re out of my budget and don’t you have a month wait?  I’m sure you’re all booked.”

            “Consider it a gift to me.”  Bucky squeezed a little.  “I insist.”

            “I can’t accept.”  You sniffled. “It wouldn’t be right.”

           “You can pay me in feedback.”  Bucky laughed.  “I’ve got a few new menu ideas I want to try out.  I get to choose what you eat.  That sound fair?”  

            “Thank you.”  The tears started to well again, but you felt some relief.  

            “Party of twelve?”  Bucky pulled you against his chest. “I’ll make rabbit, venison, there’s a wonderful cricket dish I’ve wanted to make.”

            “I know you’re joking, but I’d been fine with any of those at this point.”  You let out a laugh between a sniffle.  

           “Only the best for you.”  Bucky rubbed your back.

            “Why are you so nice to me?” You lifted your head and stared at him.

           “I’m nice to everyone.”  He shrugged. “And one month?  Try six.”

           “I know you’re trying to tease me.”  Your lip started to quiver.  “But now I feel worse.”

            “Come here you silly girl.”  Bucky pulled you back in as more tears fell.  “You really are a one-in-a-million.”

 ~~

           Your fiancé was thrilled with the reservation.  Of course, he was too busy with work to come celebrate, but a week later you found yourselves together.  

            Dinner turned to a movie that had turned into some kissing.  You moaned into his mouth as he grabbed at your shirt.  

            “I don’t want to wait any longer.”  He kissed your neck.  “It’s only two weeks.”

            “Stop.”  You grabbed his wrist. “We’ve waited this long.  It’s only two weeks?”  

            “Fuck.”  He hopped up from the couch and ran his hands over his hair.  “Do you know there are lots of women who would be thrilled with this?”

           He ran his hands over the air in front of him.  

            “I’ve been pretty fucking patient.”  He grabbed his coat.  “Working eighty hours a week and can’t even get any from my own fiancé.”  

            “What?”  You stood up and followed him.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “Nothing.”  He rubbed his eyes.  “I’m just stressed about the wedding and now this mystery client at work.  I’ve already ignored at least five e-mails from them tonight.”  

            “Are you leaving?”  You were hoping for some cuddles and time together.

            “Really what’s the point?”  He sighed and pulled out his phone.  “Fuck. I have to head back to the office.”  

            “What’s the point?”  Your nerves flared.  “Relax. We can watch another movie?”

            “Relax?” He scoffed.  “I’ll take my blue balls somewhere else.”  

            You didn’t know how to respond as he went for the door. With another sigh he stopped and turned back to you, placing a hard kiss on your forehead.  

            “I didn’t mean that.”  He opened the door.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”  

            Before you could process anything, he was gone. What did he mean his fiancé?  Was there some other option?  Now he had a problem, this close to the wedding?  Your stomach was in knots.

            You went to your phone and debated on calling your mom. But she wouldn’t understand. Maybe an old friend?  Who did you talk to anymore?  They all thought your choice was silly.  They would side with your fiancé.  

           Your mind flashed to Bucky.  You wished you could call him.  Then your brain went off like a lightbulb.  You went into your bedroom to the area you emptied your pockets. There it was, the business card.

            You were bothering him, you were certain of it, but you didn’t want to be alone.  Before your mind could talk yourself out of it you dialed the number.  It was going to be the business line anyway.

            Each ring made your heart skip a beat.  Then you were met with one word.

            “Hello?”

 ~~

           “I didn’t know your preferred flavor.”  Bucky dropped a bag on the counter.  “So I brought choices.”

            You watched as he unpacked several types of ice cream on your kitchen table.  

            “I shouldn’t have called you.”  It felt wrong having a man in your apartment this late.

            “Yes, you should have.”  He held up chocolate.  “This is everyone’s favorite.  Right?”

            You nodded your head as you grabbed some spoons.  

            “Your menu is coming together.  I think you will be surprised in a good way.”  Bucky opened the lid.  “Any luck on the dress?”  

            “No.” You brought your hand to your forehead.  “I don’t want to think about the wedding tonight.”

            “Let’s not think about anything.”  Bucky grabbed your hand and led you to your couch. “Let’s eat ice cream and watch bad movies.  Commentary encouraged?”  

            “I don’t know what that even means.”  You sat down as he picked up your remote and started scrolling for a movie.  “Ah perfect. A superhero film.  Let’s point out all the flaws.  Make fun of their costumes.  Plot holes.”

            You smiled and laughed, enjoying the levity.  Maybe it wasn’t a mistake calling him.

 ~~

           Beep.  You pulled out your phone.  

           You think I can win this fight?  The text was followed by a photo of Bucky holding a lobster over his head.  The sea creature snapping at him.  You grinned.

            “That fiancé of yours sure has you smiley lately.” Your coworker gave a wink.  

            A bang of guilt came as your smile dropped.  Texts from him were less and less.  Ever since the ice cream night, Bucky had your number and no problem using it.  A friendship was fine, but once you were married this couldn’t continue.  Not in this manner at least.  

            At Work. You almost didn’t hit send.  But maybe some boundaries had to get put up.

 ~~

           Bucky never responded.  You counteracted by texting your man, but all he sent was one word: swamped.

            The guilt from both of them was gnawing at you.  Bucky knew you were engaged.  He was a friend.  Harmless.  But it still felt wrong.

            Then your future husband’s lack of response made you angry.  You stared at your phone, unsure which of them you should text.  

            A knock at your door sounded and you tossed your phone. It could be missionaries, but you would invite them in for the distraction alone.  

            Instead, you were greeted with a delivery person.  

            “Please sign.”  They didn’t have a package behind them, but a dress rack.  

            “What is this?”  You saw garment bags.

            “Don’t know, don’t care.”  He sighed.  “Just sign your name lady.”  

            You scribbled it down and he shoved took off the bags and handed them to you.  They were heavier than you thought and walked them to the couch with fear they would make your kitchen chair topple over.  

            The top one had an envelope attached to it.  You ripped it open.  

            Sorry I was bugging you today.  One week to go.  Pick a dress.

            Your heart melted.  It wasn’t signed, but you knew who it was from.  You opened each bag seeing beautiful after beautiful dress.  

           What an amazing friend.

 ~~

           You were about to text Bucky, but it didn’t feel right. You needed to call him.  This time you were filled with excitement at the ring tones.  

            “I hope this means you liked your presents.” Bucky’s smile carried through the phone.

            “Thank you.”  You curled into your couch.  “I now have a wedding dress.  I picked…”

            “Eh, eh, eh.”  Bucky coughed.  “I don’t want to know.”  

           “Where should I send the other ones?”  You didn’t want to know the price tag.

            “They’re all yours.”

            “NO!”  You covered your mouth.  “I mean, I can’t.  You’ve done too much for me.”

            “Then you want to do me a favor?”  Bucky paused.  “As repayment?”

           “Whatever you like.”  You were in no position to turn him down.

            “Come taste test some stuff for me.”  

            “Now?”  You looked down at your pajamas.

            “I am tapping confirm on the Uber…they will be there in two minutes.”  

            “Two minutes?!?!”  You shot up from the couch. “I’m ready for bed.”

            “Two minutes.” Bucky laughed. “I’d start heading downstairs unless you want to ruin my five-star rating.”  

            “Ugh.”  You grabbed your purse.  “I’m on my way.”

 ~~

           A Friday night at Bucky’s restaurant.  Your comfy pants may as well have looked like a Halloween costume.  

            You almost didn’t walk in, but the hostess waved you from the window.  Some people sneered at you, but you were escorted to the very busy kitchen.  You expected to see Bucky, but all you saw were heated chefs yelling at each other and paying no attention to you.  

            Basement stairs appeared and you were walked downstairs. The hostess opened the door and it looked like a mad scientist’s lab.  

            “You’re here!”  Bucky was putting this finishing touches on what looked to beautiful to eat. “Have a taste?”  

            Before you could acclimate, he held a spoon to your lips. It tasted like heaven and you plopped down on a stool by the counter.  

            “Please explain why I was hesitant to come if you’re going to feed me that?”  You licked your lips at the flavor.

            “I promise.  They won’t all taste that way.”  Bucky went back to his bizarre kitchen.  “I expect a full report on every dish.”  

            You settled on the stool, eager for this night now.

 ~~

           “I can’t believe this place is so empty now.”  You walked into the main restaurant, lights off and tables empty.  “It was so crowded when I got here.”

            “I don’t like crowds.”  Bucky flipped on a low light.  “It always looks this way to me unless I have to put on an appearance.”

            “You don’t strike me as the put on an appearance type.” You walked next to him, not ready to leave.  “You’re so genuine.”

            “It’s rare when people like us find each other.” Bucky shrugged.  “Genuine people.”

            Your breath caught in your throat.  You were getting married in a week.  Here.  

            “I’ve narrowed my date for your big day down to three.”  Bucky ran his hand over his hair.  “I assume I am invited?”

            “Of course.”  You laughed and hid the disappointment.  You were being crazy; you were nothing to him.  “I value our friendship.  One week to go.”  

            “Relax.”  Bucky pulled you in for a hug.  “Enjoy yourself.”

            “My mom lands on Tuesday.  I’m going to try to entertain her.  She is a bit out there.”  You weren’t sure you wanted to get into it, but the thought left your mouth. “I mean I love her, and I am so excited to see her.”  

            Bucky stopped at the bar and pulled out a chair.

            “Tell me all about it.”  

           You didn’t hesitate as you sat down, ready to speak your mind.

~~

           “Am I ever going to meet the man who is finally marrying my virgin daughter?”  Your mom took another sip of wine.  “The wedding is tomorrow right?”

            “Work has him crazy.”  You looked at your phone again.  

            This week was met with no messages from Bucky and minimal ones from your fiancé. The last one was him bailing on dinner tonight because of how crazy work was.  But plenty of comments from your mother about how you should test the goods.  

            “Do you know how many men I have slept with?” She put her hands above her head in a stretch.

            “No.” You almost messaged Bucky, but then thought it should be your fiancé.

           “Neither do I.”  Your mom grabbed your chin, making you ignore your phone.  “Baby are you sure you want this? I love you.  I know how different we are.  You’re not me, you’re better.  But…be you, not some fantasy of you.”  

            “Would you paint my toenails?  Like you did when I was little?”  You tried not to cry.  

            “Of course.”  Your mom grabbed your hands and kissed them.  “Anything for my little girl. The night before her big day.”

~~

           A knock on your door woke you.  You groaned as you rolled out of bed and went to answer.  A swarm of people entered your apartment like you weren’t even there.

            “James said we’re to make you flawless.”  There was a chorus of five people saying the same thing.

            You gave up objecting after five minutes.  One went for your misspainted toenails, you stopped them.

            “Those stay.”  Memories of your night with your mom flooded back.  

            There was a warning in your gut to check your phone, but you left it in the bedroom, and you didn’t want to disrupt Bucky’s final gift. Besides, it was your wedding day. There was no point in complaining.

 ~~

           Your cellphone now felt like the weight of the world as you paced back and forth outside of the courtroom.   Constantly calling your fiancé on repeat.  

           The ring….ring….ring…to voicemail was killing you.  

            Did something happen to him?  Was it cold feet?  Something worse?  You thought of the ten people seated inside, waiting for you two to enter.  

            “I was hoping you would pick the black and silver number.”  Bucky’s voice made your head snap up. “You are stunning.”

            Bucky was there, a white shirt and black pants, hair slicked back.  Arms wide open, ready to congratulate you.  

            “I don’t know where he is.”  You couldn’t hug Bucky, you needed to get a hold of your soon-to-be-husband.  “What if something happened?  Is he standing me up?  Thank you for the hairdresser and makeup artist, and the masseuses, and the nail technician.  And everything.  But where is he???? We were supposed to start our five-minute ceremony one minute ago?”

             Bucky looked nervous.  He glanced around the hallway.  He always had the right answer, but he looked lost.  

           You about had a collapse on the floor laughing. Everything was so fucked.  

            “I’ve held my tongue, but he is an asshole.”  Bucky picked you back up and glared you in the eye. “You can do so much better.  

            “But I love him.  He is going to be my husband?”  It came out like a question as you stared Bucky in the eye.  “This is so embarrassing. My mom, aunts, uncles, and cousins are in there.  They came to New York for no reason.”

           “Do you love him?”  Bucky looked around your face.  “Really?”

            “Yes. No.  I don’t know.  Maybe?” Right now you had a hard time believing you could ever love someone capable of standing you up on your wedding day. “I have to go in there and tell them. The wedding is off.”  

            “Hey, none of your family know him, right?”  Bucky rolled his shoulders back.  “I don’t know what is happening. But I’ll be your groom.”

             “What?”  You snapped your neck toward him.  “Are you insane?”

           “It won’t be legal.  Just a show. Then we’ll take your family back to the restaurant.  Have the party.  You can save some face and come up with some story later.”  Bucky grabbed your arm and wove it around his.  “Come on.”

           Your mind was racing with objections to Bucky’s idea and fury over your fiancés’ absence.  But before you pulled your arm away he pulled open the door.  

            The only people in the room were your family.  They all rose and smiled as Bucky walked you down the aisle.  

            “Smile.”  He leaned in to you.  “You look terrified.”

            “This is a terrible plan.” You whispered back.  

           “One we are doing anyway.”  Bucky squeezed your hand tight when you stopped right in front of the judge.  

            “This is one of the best pleasures of my job.”  The man in the robe beamed at you.  “You look like a fine young couple and I wish you much happiness in life.”  

            “We will have a very happy life.”  Bucky beamed, but you felt as if you were in a daze.

           “Did you write your own vows?” The Judge asked.  

            “No.” Bucky was taking the lead. “Just want it short and sweet.”

            “Alright, I can do that.  You’re up first.  Repeat after me.”  The Judge cleared his throat.  “I, say your name…”

            Your body went on autopilot when Bucky looked at you, holding both of your hands as he repeated the marriage vows.  When it was your turn you didn’t stop, feeling all your family’s eyes on you as you spoke the words.

            “By the power invested in me from the state of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”  The Judge smiled.  

            Bucky’s hand touched your cheek, cupping your face as his lips pressed into yours.  He parted them slightly.  He was soft, inviting, and his kiss struck you at your core.  

           It felt like the entire world went silent, the cheers of your family distant in the background.  When he pulled away, you lunged in for more and a whimper left your mouth.  

            “Congratulations!”  Your mom hugged you first. “Welcome to the family James!”

           “Please, call me Bucky.”  He added.

            “I knew she called you something other than James.  That didn’t sound right.”  Your mom laughed, not even noticing that Bucky was certainly not your fiancé’s name.

            “Let’s go celebrate.”  Bucky wove his fingers in with yours.

            The little wedding party followed you outside.   Your phone buzzed and you pulled it out as you walked don’t the steps.

  I’m sorry.  Don’t hate me.  

            With one quick push, you blocked the number.  

            At least you didn’t need to worry about him being dead in a ditch.  

            “Everything okay?”  Bucky whispered in your ear.

            “No.” You gave him a fake smile.  “My family thinks you’re my husband and I just got left at the alter.”  

            “Worry about that later.”  He pulled your hand to his lips and gave a kiss.  “Enjoy your day.”  

            You rolled your eyes in disbelief.  This was out of control.

 ~~

           “He is quite the catch.”  Your mom whispered to you in the private room in Bucky’s restaurant. “You did good.”

            “Mom, there’s something I have to tell you.”  You turned toward her.  

            “Can I have everyone’s attention?”  Bucky stood up from the table where you’d just had the most delicious meal of your life.

            A server came into the room with a tray of champagne.  Your family all took a glass and you did the same.  

            “The second I saw my lovely wife I was smitten.  It was at a grocery store.  She was shopping for an avocado.  She picked up so many and held them, putting them back I had to watch.  Eventually, I started to count.  I missed the first half, but she tried fifty-one others.  Who does that?  At first, I found it odd, but then I started to think what is she making with that avocado?  Why does it need to be so perfect?  She’d passed up at least thirty great choices.

            “I was about to tell her as much, but then her nose scrunched and she walked away. I was smitten.  And I wanted to chase after her with a perfect avocado.  That’s when I fell in love with her.  Before we’d even said hello.  I knew I wanted to spend my life giving her perfection.”  

             There was a chorus of awwws, from your family.  Bucky waved you over and you went next to him.  

            “To the happy couple!”  Your uncle rose his glass.  

            Everyone said cheers and clicked glasses while Bucky placed a kiss on your cheek.  

            “That story.”  You whispered in his ear.  “That’s true?”

            You remembered searching for the avocados and giving up.

            “Every word.”  Bucky gave you a peck on your lips.  “Please, stay as late as you like.  But I think it’s time I took my lovely wife home.”  

            Everyone applauded as Bucky started to walk you out of the room.   You were touched by his story, but there was a nagging in the back of your mind.  

            Bucky held open a car door for you and you slid inside.  Trying to piece it together.  

            “The avocado thing.  It wasn’t the same trip as the bridal magazine.”  You looked out the window.  

            “Sure it was.”  Bucky laughed as he started the car.  

            “No, it wasn’t.  I remember because that’s when my fiancé told me to get a bridal magazine.  I came home with no avocado and he said I should have at least grabbed one of those from the checkout.”  You looked at Bucky for a clue.  

            “You shouldn’t bring up your fiancé to your husband.”  Bucky smiled.  “Screw that guy.  He isn’t worth a single thought of yours.”

            “Thank you.”  You shook your head.  “For what you did today.  I’ll have to come up with a reason we aren’t married in a few months, but you saved me from some major embarrassment.”  

            “It was an honor.”  Bucky turned right.  

            “My place is the other way.”  You pointed to the left.

            “Isn’t your mom staying there tonight?”  He tapped the wheel.  “Spend the night at my place, to keep up appearances.”  

            “You’re right.”  It would be hard to explain not spending your wedding night with your husband.  

            Bucky turned into a parking garage.  The attendant waved him through.  You looked up at the skyscraper as you disappeared inside.

            “You live here?”  The building looked expensive.  

            “When I’m in New York.”  He pulled into a reserved parking spot.  “I’ve got a few properties elsewhere.”

            “I didn’t realize you were so…”

            “Rich?”  Bucky opened the door and you did the same.  “I know.  It’s part of your charm.”  

            Bucky led you into a luxurious lobby, waving at the concierge as he held your hand. You walked into the elevator and he hit the button for the top floor.  

            “Facial recognition.”  Bucky smiled. “Pretty neat huh?”  

            “This is crazy.  I knew your restaurant was popular, but….”  This was too fancy.  

            “You didn’t google much besides the models huh?”  Bucky laughed.  “I own six restaurants…in New York.  Fourteen other restaurants around the globe.  I’ve also got a portion of a casino in Vegas with a friend.”

            “But you’re so down to earth.” You shook your head.  

            “Thank you.”  Bucky shrugged and the elevator came to a stop. “Home sweet home.”  

            The doors parted to an amazing space.  The view of the city was insane.   There were modern couches and an open floor plan with a top of the line kitchen.  This was not what you were expecting.  

            “Looks like word travels fast.”  Bucky walked to the table and saw a bottle of champagne and strawberries.  “The building sent up a congratulations bottle.”

            “That’s odd.”  You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the view.  

            “I’ll get some glasses.”  Bucky walked into the kitchen.  

            “All of this and you have a catering business?”  You turned to face Bucky as things started to connect in your brain.

            “Well, I don’t do the day-to-day.  Really it’s not that successful.  I’ll probably focus on other operations.”  Bucky pulled out the stemware, reaching the top shelf.  A folded up piece of paper fell out of his pocket.  

            “And that bridal shop, you were picking up the sample from, that wasn’t high end.  What bride would buy her dress there and afford you as a caterer?”  Your mind went to the coffee shop.  “You knew my coffee preference, and you knew my name.  I never told you.”

            “Of course, you did.”  Bucky came back over and started to pour the drinks.  

            “And all the places that were booked were your recommendations.  Did you tell them to blacklist me?”  You locked eyes with Bucky.  “So, I’d be forced to celebrate at your place.  And my fiancés’ mystery client, keeping him so busy at work, was it you?”

            “It’s been a long day.”  Bucky put his arm around your shoulder.  “You’re sounding a little crazy.  Why would I have this elaborate plan?”

            The nerves started to fizzle out as you shook your head.  

            “I’m sorry.  You’re right.”  Besides what did Bucky have to gain from it?  A fake marriage.  “Today was crazy.  And you helped me.”  

            You rested your head on his shoulder and he kissed your forehead.

            “I would like to take you out on a date though.”  Bucky clinked your glass.  “Not as friends.”  

            “It’s a little soon.”  You gave a nervous laugh.  “Maybe I should take some time to heal.”

            “You don’t seem broken to me.”  Bucky’s hand slid off your shoulder.  “Want a tour of the place?”  

            “Sure.”  You hoped you hadn’t hurt Bucky’s feelings.   You touched your lips and thought about the kiss earlier.  There was a spark between the two of you.    

            “Gimme a second to make sure I hid all my psycho stalker stuff.”  Bucky made a fake pistol with his hand.

           You rolled your eyes.  At least the man had a sense of humor about it.  You wondered how long it would take to live that down.  

            The apartment went quiet as he disappeared down the hall.  You tapped your fingers on the table and then noticed the paper on the kitchen floor.  It stood out against the perfection of the place.  

            You walked over and picked it up, almost setting it on the counter.  But your fingers got the best of you and you unfolded it.  

            The words weren’t registering.  You read them over and over again.  How was this possible?  Was this a mistake? A joke?  

            “I was hoping to wait a bit until you saw that.”  Bucky’s voice no longer brought comfort.  

            You turned toward him with the paper in your hand.  

            “It seems like a lot, I know, but we’re perfect for each other.  You know it and I know it!  What was the point in waiting?”  

            “How?” There was a tremble in your wrist.

            “I have some friends.  Pulled some strings.”  Bucky scratched the back of his head.  “Really, this is a good thing.  Think about it.”

            “I was right.  About everything.  Wasn’t I?” Your voice shook.  “The avocados, the fake catering company, the dress shop, the restaurant, the marriage?”

            “I may have created some situations that led to our interactions.”  Bucky sighed. “I don’t want to start our life out with lies.”

            “Start our life?!?!”  You glanced at the paper.  “Oh God. My fiance.  What did you do to him?”

            “He’s fine. I promise.”  Bucky walked closer to you and you took a step back, holding up your hands.  “He may have drank something that caused him to oversleep.”    

            You thought back to the text message he sent.  I’m Sorry. Don’t hate me.  You had blocked him so you didn’t see the rest.

  “He wasn’t apologizing for leaving you at the altar.  He was apologizing for oversleeping.”  You pushed passed Bucky and went to your purse.  Grabbing your phone.  

  You went to his contact and hit unblock.  A whole flood of messages came in.  

  “He showed up at the restaurant.  Your employees threatened to call the cops.”  You looked up at him in shock.  

  “What are you doing?”  Bucky’s eyes went to your phone.

  “Texting him!”  You started to type out an apology, but the tech was snatched from your hands.

  “HEY!”  You reached for the phone, but Bucky held it away from you.  “Give that back!”  

    “I know this is hard to hear, but that guy was bad news.  I had a private investigator follow him.  He has girlfriends all over town.  You’re one of three.  He made no mention to any of them he was getting married.”  Bucky continued to move away from you as you clawed for your phone.  “His computer was filled with searches about annulments and divorces.  He was only marrying you so he could sleep with you.  Then he was going to leave you right away.”

  “I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!” You reached for your phone, but Bucky kept twisting.  “Annulment?”  

  Relief flooded your chest.  One problem solved.  

  “Keep the phone.”  You grabbed the marriage license and picked up your purse.  

  “Where are you going?”  Bucky looked shocked.

  “Home.”  You walked to the elevator.  “That way I can get an annulment first thing in the morning.”  

  You looked around for the call button.  

  “I wish you wouldn’t have said that.”  Bucky’s voice went cold.

  “You think I was going to stay married to you.”  You spun on a heel.  “I don’t even know how you got the license without me.  I’m getting the hell out of here.  Now call the elevator.”

  “This is why I wanted to wait to tell you.”  Bucky cracked his neck.  “With divorce.  I can hire the best attorneys. Drag it out. There’s still plenty of time to prove to you that you love me.

 “I don’t love you.”  You snapped. “I don’t even know you.”

 “That’s not true.”  Bucky stepped closer.  “Don’t be cruel just because you’re hurting.  Everything I did, was with your best intentions at heart.”

  “Best intentions?”  You scoffed. “You manufactured our whole friendship and married me without me even knowing.  I’m getting this annulled ASAP.”

  The frustration rolled across Bucky.  

  “You can’t get an annulment if the marriage is consummated.”  Bucky cracked his knuckles.  

  “You think I’m going to have sex with you?”  You didn’t have time to even say the next part before Bucky came forward and put his shoulder into your stomach, hoisting you in the air.  “PUT ME DOWN!”

  “I was gonna take you on a few dates.  Get you to open up more.  Then ask you to marry me.”  Bucky carried you down the hall as you pummeled his back.  “Then we’d go to get the license and surprise! We’re already married.  We would laugh and call it fate. It was all planned out.”

  “Bucky you’re scaring me.”  You tried to wiggle off of him.  “Please put me down.”

  He set you down on the bed and kneeled in front of you, putting his hands on either side of your face.

  “You never have to be afraid of me.”  He locked eyes with you.  “I love you so much.  I only want what is best for you.”  

  He hopped up to his feet and you looked around the bedroom.  It was as fancy as the rest of the apartment, the bed was huge.   You stopped looking at the interior when Bucky took his shirt off in front of you.

  “What are you doing?”  You stood up, but his hands found your shoulders and pushed you back down.  

  “I am going to make love to my wife.”  He spoke with conviction.  

  You thought about shrieking.  Running. Hitting.  Kicking.  Biting. Fighting.  But instead, you froze.  Terror leaving you glued in place.  

  “I know it’s your first time.”  Bucky took off his socks and shoes.  “I promise I’ll be gentle.”  

  Little gasps were leaving your mouth as you sat on the bed.  Trying to will your body to react.  To do anything.   He pushed his pants down and you felt a tear drip down your cheek.  

  “Don’t worry.”  The bed dipped.  “I’m going to take such good care of you.  You’ll see.”

  His hand went to the zipper on the back of your dress.

  “NO!” The movement shocked you into gear you shoved at him and ran for the door.  

  “Shhhh.”  Bucky grabbed you, wrapping an arm around your waist and putting a hand over your mouth. “It’s still me.  Think about all our time together.  Ice cream at your apartment.  Late night chats at the restaurant.  I’m still that guy.”  

  You cried into his hand and went limp.

  “That’s it.”  He kissed your neck.  “Don’t fight me or I’ll tie you down.  If you scream I’ll gag you.  Do you understand?”

  You nodded your head as more tears fell.

  “Good.”  He placed a kiss on your head and loosened his grip.  “I love you so much.  I had to have you.  All to myself.”  

  “You don’t have to do this.”  There was a shake to your voice.  “Please. Not like this.”  

  “If I don’t you’ll leave me.”  There was a hand on your zipper, taking it down.  “And now that you know it’s our wedding night I want it to be special. There’s really no point in waiting. We are married.”

  You grabbed the straps of the dress, but Bucky wrapped his fingers around your wrists and pulled your hands down.  The garment fell forward.  He pushed it down over your hips so it fell in a pool at your feet.  

  “Stop.”  You whimpered.  “Please.”

  “Shhh.”  Bucky turned so you were facing him, both of you only in your underwear.  “Just try to relax.”  

  His hand cupped your sex over your panties.  He pushed his palm against you and ground down.  You let out a meep and fell forward, bracing yourself on his shoulders.

  “That’s my girl.”  Bucky kissed your neck.  His other hand at the small of your back. “Enjoying herself already.”

  “I’m not.”  You wanted to bite him, kick, scream, run.  Anything, just to get away.  

 But while your brain struggled to make a plan your body reacts to his touch.  

  “Don’t lie to me.”  Bucky gave a playful laugh.  

  “I’m not.”  You caught your breath.  

  “Oh yeah?”  Bucky stopped moving his hand, but your hips were rocking, humping his touch.  He gave a chuckle and kissed your neck again. Before resuming his motions.  “Its nothing to be ashamed of.  I want you to enjoy this.  I want you to enjoy every single one of our times together.”  

  You brought your hands to your face and covered it in embarrassment.  How could you be participating?  This wasn’t what you wanted.  

  “All those times I wanted to touch you, hold you, feel you this way.”  Bucky started to move faster.  “That body. That beautiful face.  The way you hold yourself.  I wanted to be perfect for you.  To give you a perfect life.  And I will. This is just the beginning.”

  You wanted to tune him out, pretend this wasn’t happening.  But You felt something growing inside of you.  A need.  One that was coming on fast.  

 “Oh God.”  You grabbed on to his shoulder again. “No. I don’t want this!”

  “Of course you do.”  Bucky continued rubbing you.  “I can feel how wet you’re getting through your panties.  You’ve been turned on since the courthouse.  Admit it.  That electricity in the kiss?  You felt it. We’re made for each other.”

 “No!” You gasped as you gave up any semblance of control, letting your hips wiggle and grind against his hand with a moan.

  “Don’t lie or I’ll stop.” Bucky threatened.  

 “Yes!”  You cried into his shoulder, the need for release hovering.  “Yes, I felt it!”  

  “Good job.”  Bucky pushed down hard.  “Now you don’t have to worry about me stopping.”  

  You realized that he just threatened you with the one thing you wanted less than a minute ago.  Your heart flared at the response and then you cried out as pleasure erupted from your center.  

 You fell forward on to him, gasping for air as the room seemed to spin.  

  “Beautiful.”  He kissed your cheek.  “Absolutely beautiful.”

  You didn’t have time to recover before he guided you back to the bed.  You were still seeing stars when he unhooked your bra and slid off your panties.  You went to cover yourself, but Bucky pushed off his boxers.

  The sight of him made you groan and a shake run through you.  

  “I promise it will only hurt for a second.”  He put a hand on your knees and spread them.  “Then you will be all mine.”

 “I’ll stay.  I won’t leave you.”  You tried to scoot away.  “I promise. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to.”  Bucky smiled. “It’s our wedding night.”

  His hand found your hip and he pinned you down while his cock ran up your slit. There was no denying you were wet and you cringed.

  “It’s okay.”  Bucky kissed your lips.  “Don’t tense up.  You were made for this, for me.”  

  “Please?”  You hated the way you sounded.

  “Shhhh.”  He brought his mouth on to yours, kissing you hard.  

  You should have fought, but all you did was part your lips and let his tongue slide inside.  Memories of the church filled your mind and you moaned at how good he was the skill.

  But then you felt pressure.  He was sliding inside of you.  It burned, but almost in a pleasant way.   You tried not to clench as he moved further.  Spreading your walls in a way you never thought possible.   You bent your knees and readjusted trying to spread your legs further.  Not wanting it to hurt.  

  “You did so well.”  Bucky broke the kiss.  

 You looked between your bodies and saw he was satiated inside of you.   You hated how hot it looked.  

  “But we’re just getting started.”  Bucky resumed the kiss as he pulled out.  

  You didn’t mean to kiss him back, but there was so much happening your tongue responded.  Then you felt the tingle between your legs grow again.  This time much harder.  Like all the energy in the room was being sucked inside of you.

  You started to roll your hips to meet him.  Grabbing on to his shoulders for something to brace yourself with. Needing more leverage to meet his motions.  

  This didn’t feel good.  It felt amazing.  You had to break the kiss as you struggled for air.  

  Both of your bodies worked with each other and against.  A sheen of sweat grew on your skin.  

  “What….why?”  You didn’t understand as you rolled your head.

  “Cum for me.”  Bucky railed into you.  “Cum for your husband.”

  You gripped the sheets as your toes curled.  You didn’t try to fight it as your body let loose.  Waves of passion and ecstasy spread from limb to limb as you did what you were told.  

  The urge to fight and flee with every pulse of the orgasm.  

  “What a good wife you are.”  Bucky kissed at your cheek.  “I’ll take such good care of you.  Forever.”

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump day 3

Prompt: imprisonment

Warnings: medical trauma

read on AO3!

A Long Way Down

Bright lights pass in quick variables, and it takes Obi-Wan a moment longer than it should to realize he's lying on a stretcher, oxygen mask strapped to his face and wires and cuffs on every available piece of skin. He groans, catching the attention of Commander Cody who is running beside the stretcher.

"Not to worry, General, we are almost at the med bay."

That is exactly why I am worried.

He reaches up slowly to pull the mask off his face as the stretcher slows, looking up at his Marshall Commander. "Cody... what happened?"

"An explosion, sir. Tunnel collapsed," he pauses. Cody already knows his follow up question. "The men are okay. You... Force-pushed them out of the way."

Well, that explains why my body feels like it has been crushed under a ton of rocks... supposedly it has. 

Obi-Wan has no memory of this, but from the grim looks on the faces of all the troopers surrounding him he suspects he 1. doesn't look good and 2. is as bad as he looks.

"How bad?" he asks as they guide the stretcher into the med bay and stop it next to a bed.

Cody looks at Helix, the medical clone who seems to be trying hard not to make eye contact with him. With the penetrating stare of both his Commander and General, Helix finally looks up from the datapad.

"We're gonna have to dunk you, General."

He blinks, letting the words slowly settle into his discombobulated brain. Usually, he would protest. Make a fuss about being fine, because usually, he is, and medical can put their resources elsewhere. Usually, they would lock the doors as soon as he enters-- he glances over and yes, they did. What am I going to do, run? Obi-Wan is fairly sure both of his legs are crushed judging from the odd angles they are at, so he isn't sure how they expect him to make a break for it.

But today, Obi-Wan just lets his head fall back and he stares at the ceiling. He cannot protest because the tightness in his throat won't let him. He's afraid to open his mouth again because if he does his words will turn into sobs and his men do not deserve to see their General cry.

He can feel Cody and Helix's surprise. He doesn't have to look at them to know they are now even more concerned for him now that he hasn't tried to raise hell about being taken to medical. But they also seem to be relieved, so at least he can give them that respite.

He stares at the ceiling as movement begins to happen around him. Medical troopers pulling at the needles and sensors, inserting new ones. It all fades into a blur of hands touching him gently but firmly, frequent pinches and jolts of sharp pain, and the cool stickiness of applicators against his skin. Obi-Wan just stares at the ceiling.

He is fairly convinced that every medical facility has the same designer. Even the Jedi Halls of Healing have walls that are stark white. Sterile white. So bright they rival the glow of the iridescent lights, which is a design flaw in his opinion. Obi-Wan has spent a lot of time seeing these ceilings-- but not because he has spent a lot of time in medical. There is a reason he doesn't like to end up in the med bay, and the reason haunts him every time there is even a prospect of him having to go to see a healer.

Seven-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi had feet too big for his body. It's like he began to hit a spurt, but only his feet realized that growth was the plan and the rest of his body was still figuring out how to stretch his small stature a few inches taller. It gave him the unfortunate nickname of Oafy-Wan, coined by his age-mates who he didn't exactly consider his friends. His clumsiness wasn't horrible, but it was distinctive enough to cause him a bit of trouble when practicing lightsaber katas and doing his physical activity tests.

On this particular day, seven-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi had already had a very bad day. He fell in the middle of a practice spar in front of everyone. He wasn't even doing an acrobatic move or anything, he just fell over his own feet. The roar of “Oafy-Wan” was the only thing he could hear as he stared at the floor in shock of how quickly everything had transpired. Despite Bant's sympathetic reassurance and his other friends trying to overpower the chant, he spent the rest of the lesson trying to make himself as small as possible.

His pouting continued through the day, even to their long-awaited field trip to the Senate Rotunda. He walked with his creche mates, tuning out of their excited conversation of seeing the massive Galactic Senate chambers and instead focusing on the speeders rushing past just meters away from them. He wished to just jump into one and speed away from it all. Despite his prior excitement for this journey out of the Temple, he now wants nothing more than to go back to his dorm and curl up in his bed.

"Don't trip, Oafy-Wan," a familiar snide voice rings in his ear. He turns to see Bruck Chun, one of his age-mates that often leads the cause against him, sneering at him. "It's a long way down."

They're walking along a more narrow section of the street. Just a few meters to the left there is a deep chasm that goes into the lower depths of Coruscant. So deep he cannot see the bottom.

Obi-Wan brushes him away, in no mood to deal with him. "Get lost, Bruck." His arm presses into Bruck's side, pushing him away, which is not to the pleasure of his age-mate. Bruck's eyes narrow, and he jabs his elbow into Obi-Wan's back.

"Don't push me."

Anger surges in Obi-Wan's chest as he staggers forward. He whirls around and uses both hands to push Bruck into the wall of the building they are passing. A few initiates have stopped now to watch them, but as they stand at the back of the group the mass have not noticed their tussle.

"Funny, it seems I'm doing just that."

Bruck runs at him this time, his anger potent in the Force, and Obi-Wan suddenly has the clarity that maybe this isn't a good idea. He jumps out of the way of Bruck's charge, vaguely aware he is standing at the edge of the street now. Bruck skids to a stop.

"Coward," he spits, just as the Master leading their field trip calls for them to stop lagging.

Obi-Wan avoids Bruck's gaze as he passes by him, pointedly smacking his shoulder into his. Obi-Wan sighs, and turns to join the group.

As he turns, he finds himself suddenly caught in the air stream of a speeder that is too close to the sidewalk. He feels his small body lifted off the ground, and he flails in fear at the lack of anything for him to grab onto. A chorus of yelling erupts, most of them either calling his name or Master Vant. Obi-Wan can see the ground, and he tries to position his feet to land there, but another passing speeder sends him into a tailspin.

And Obi-Wan falls.

Even years later as a Jedi Master, Obi-Wan remembers falling down that speeder shaft. When he thinks about it he can hear the screams of his friends as they watched him fall. He can see them peering over the side. Master Vant running up and raising her hand to reach for him in the Force.

Had she reached him a moment earlier she probably could have saved him. But his downward momentum was suddenly ceased as he crashed against a speeder before she had the chance to cushion his descent. And he was met with horrendous pain and the taste of blood. Much like how he feels laying in the med bay now. Everything afterward was a blur.

"Are you ready, General?" Helix asks. Obi-Wan looks past him to see the bacta tank is all set up. Obi-Wan swallows hard, and he says nothing, but Helix takes that as a yes. His stretcher starts to float toward the tank, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the horrible memories come rushing back.

Choking. Obi-Wan expected to wake up in a reality beyond life-- he truly believed he would be returned to the Force, but instead, he woke up choking. He started to panic before he opened his eyes, and when he finally tried to find the reason for his restrictive breathing the initiate realized he can't see either.

He tries to thrash around, but his movements seem to be restricted somehow. Like he is tied up, but he can't feel bounds. His body just isn’t listening to him, which is even more terrifying. He tries to blink through the thick goo that seems to be covering his eyes, but it won't clear. It burns instead. He's trapped in a senseless prison, and he lets his panic radiate outward into the Force. He needs someone to hear him. Find him. Anything.

The Force responds with a collective feeling of shock. He repeats his plea for freedom, and finally, he hears something. Distant talking. Yelling, actually. Frantic. There is the deafening sound of suction, and then Obi-Wan is falling again. Slower than before but in his mind's eye he sees his friends staring down at him. Laughing at him. Oafy-Wan! They cackle. It's a long way down.

He hits the floor. The gel material that once encased him sloshes everywhere. His body curls into a ball and he feels many pairs of hands grabbing him and positioning him onto his back despite his protests. The touches are not comforting. Their goal seems to be to push him right back into the place he just escaped, and he begins to sob in terror. The voices are blending together as his vision begins to tunnel again.

"...sedative wasn't enough."

"How did he wake..."

"Get him back under!"

It was explained to him by one healer that his IV fell out of his arm. Another told him that the dosage was too light. A third said the adrenaline caused his metabolism to spike, making the correct dosage go quicker. Obi-Wan isn't sure why he woke up while in the bacta tank that day, but he suspects knowing the reason wouldn't have changed the panic he feels every time he has to take a dunk.

Obi-Wan grabs Helix's arm as he is about to inject his IV. The medic freezes and looks down at him.

"You have my correct doses from the Temple, correct? For the general anesthetic?"

Helix blinks before nodding. "Of course, General."

"And you know Jedi tend to metabolize quicker as well? You will have someone monitoring my consciousness?"

"Yes sir, we have detailed training from your healers on Jedi care. We will ensure you receive the right dose and don't get too much anesthetic."

He nods with wide eyes. His medic is slightly off in the reason for his inquiries, but it is comforting enough.

Even so, as the drugs begin to take him under he can't help but feel like he is seven again. Faded conversations of the medical troopers become the hushed words between Jedi Healers. The same fear of waking up within the tank again grips him with an iron fist around his already-intubated throat.

Never again could he look at a bacta tank and see it as an innovative medical advance. To Obi-Wan, it is a torturous prison that causes his fear to shamefully make an appearance.

He is positioned into the tank. The transperisteel doors close around him, and already he can feel his heart rate elevating. Why am I not asleep yet? Why am I still awake for this? Am I to do this conscious?

The bacta starts to fill at his feet slowly. He feels the urge to lift his legs and climb away from the rising gel, but his body has already separated from his mind. He cannot slam his fists against the doors and beg to be let free. Cannot scream with the tube down his throat.

As the bacta reaches his knees, he finally feels the heaviness reach his eyes, and Obi-Wan says a last plea to the Force to let him stay asleep for the entirety of his imprisonment.

[futurewriter2000]

If we are not this, than what are we?

- pt. 1- 

A/N: I got inspired by tik tok for this and let me tell you, I’m so glad I did write this. I’m probably gonna do a part 2 because I couldn’t put all the request in and I have to. It didn’t fit all together and Imma finish it in part two I gues??? Idk. Just school is in my head right now so it’s hard to think.

REQUEST: Can I request a James PotterxSlytherin!Reader where they were neighbours and bestfriends as kids and when she got sorted in slytherin, james was an arse to her. When they are older (6th/7th year) they spend time and realise they like each other but all their family and friends are against it.

XX

James Potter.

An asshole.

A true, unpredictable asshole.

"GIVE IT BACK, JAMES!" you shouted, stretching your arm to get the journal in his hand.

You didn't know how he got a hold of it. It has always been under your pillow, sometimes under the cushions or the bed but never in reach for someone to grab.

He threw the journal to Sirius, who was laughing a few feet behind him. James wrapped his arm around your neck and stood behind you. You grabbed his strong arm that was tightening your neck and causing your head to be in an uncomfortable position. "YOU'RE HURTING ME! JAMES!" you shouted, feeling tears well up in your eyes as other students started to gather around and watch.

"Hurting you?" he loosened the grip and you pushed yourself away into Sirius' arms, grabbing the journal from his hands and pushing it against your chest. "You know we're always playing, lil Snake." he kept goading you, seeing well clear you were about as close to crying as Sirius was close behind you.

"You're an asshole!" you fumed at him. "A self-observed, narcissistic, prideful, son-of-a-bitch asshole!"

"And you're a slag, (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Oh, I'M A SLAG?!?" you stepped back, scoffing and laughing forcefully. "Have you looked yourself in the mirror lately, Potter? Or were you too busy playing with Bibby the Bear? You know, coddle him like you did when we were kids? Kiss him a kiss goodnight?" you goaded and saw the colour on his skin turn bright red.

"Hold her, Pads!" he growled and you felt your arms being whisked away from your book.

Sirius was locking your arms behind your back, causing the journal to fall to the floor and being picked up by none other than, James Potter.

You knew there was no way out of this. You knew it and you admit to it but it's your journal and it's all of your feelings on a page.

You've been bullied by him since the first year. He was the one causing you to be anti-social. Because everybody loves James and who James likes, they like but who James doesn't like, they do not like either.

So as he opened the cover with the malicious smirk plastered on his lips, he took one last look at you. "Got any other words to say to me or do you want me to just read it?"

You felt your knees go completely numb and you were might as well hanging in Sirius' grip. "Please, James. Please don't." you pleaded, begged, prayed even... But it was James... And James hates you.

He opened and started to read. He laughed immediately. "Okay, okay. You weirdo." he commented and tears started to trickle down your eyes. "Dear thinking book, May 5th, 1973 - blah blah blah - Oh!" he exclaimed, looking up at you. "You fancied the Perfect Klemmens in your third year? - 'His eyes are so wonderful! Green marbles-"' "he laughed, barely containing it, just as the other students around you. "- sorry. It's just too funny. " he continued to laugh. "- for you to think you ever had a chance with Klemens."

"STOP!" you shouted but he just turned around with his finger in the air.

"I'm just gonna skip 73' since Klemens is all you talked about." he flipped a few pages. "What happened to 74'?"

You don't talk about 1974.

"Oh, here I am!" he beamed. "September 3rd: 'Back here and nothing has changed. Everything is the same, even the infamous Asshole of the Gryffindor tower hasn't grown up a brain.'" he looked at you and touched his heart. "Ouch. To be quite frank with you my brain is evolved just fine. It's yours who need some working." he was up close, watching you and blinded by the wet cheeks.

A tear fell and you felt absolutely defeated. You spat in his face, kicked Sirius in his crotch, and pulled out your wand "Inferno!" you shouted but instead of hitting the journal as you wanted you, you lit up James robe.

At this point, you didn't care.

"Missed!" you heard his mocking laugh but you just ran. You ran outside, you ran out of the castle, you ran so far until you were sobbing at the edge of the lake.

His voice kept repeating in your head as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. You lost your whole energy to that night. You laid on the side, rocks digging in your hips and causing you much more pain but to that pain, you were numb. The real pain was inside of you. You grabbed the grass and pulled it out because you were so furious and so upset. You just wanted to die right there and then.

'He used to be my best friend!' you cried in your head, tears enabling you to open your eyes as a scene of a messy 8-year-old boy, prancing around you and pulling you into the mud with him rolled in your head. 'We used to be best friends.'

---

He walked into the dorm, seeing Remus help Peter with his homework. He stomped proudly, throwing the journal on his bed and taking off his school robe. He pulled up the burnt edge and shrugged. "Oh, well. I'll just write mum to buy me another one." he laid on his bed with his shoes still on.

"Where's your other half?" Remus asked.

"Saw some Tinkerbell down the corridor as we walked. Got distracted."

"Should I ask about the robe?"

"Nah. No, fun without someone else telling the story. We'll have to wait for Sirius."

"Alright."

"Alright." repeated James, looking at the ceiling and thinking of you. It plastered a smile on his face to know you wrote about him in your journal. "I wonder..." he mumbled to himself, laying on his stomach and opening the journal again.

" November 16th, 1975: 'I thought I was over this. I thought I was strong enough! I THOUGHT I WOULDN' T BE TREATED LIKE THIS ANYMORE! I keep repeating the same thing because I know that I still can't get it through my thick head of how he went from my best friend to my enemy. '" James turned the page and kept reading. It was obvious. You were a Slytherin. You betrayed him. Everybody knows Slytherins are the worst."' I can remember us just chasing each other down the big grass. His mother hated me as a child. Both of our parents disapproved of our friendship- his mother hated me because of my parents but I can' t choose which family I was born into. He promised that he doesn't care about what his parents think of me but clearly, he does. Clearly, he thinks I am just as WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!'" he backed his head away from the page, completely shocked by this sudden burst of anger.

What? Why would you think he thinks that?

He furrowed his eyebrows at the page and continued to read. " 'He hates me just like everybody else. He hates me just like his parents hate me. He hates me just like my own parents hate me. He hates me just like the rest of Hogwarts- hell he' s the cause behind all of that in the first place. And you know what's the worst part?! When he bullies me and belittles me in front of everybody- when he makes me cry and weep in the long nights after that - I still can't do it. I still can't bully him back AND I HATE MYSELF BECAUSE OF IT! I'M SO DUMB AND SO STUPID! I CAN' T EVEN STICK UP FOR MY OWN SELF, LET ALONE SOMEONE ELSE!!! - "

Again...that burst of anger but... But what was he feeling currently? What?

What's happening in his head right now? Why does he feel like his world just flipped? Why does he feel like he wants to cry? What's this uncomfortable feeling inside of him that feels like it's eating away his stomach?

" 'I hate myself. I just hate myself so much. I hate everything about me. I can' t even look myself in the mirror anymore. I'm just so bloody ugly and pathetic. Why am I still putting up with this? Why don't I just end it as a normal person would? Why don't I just end it right here and now? "

He read and his eyes were wide and watery. He didn't even know what he was doing until he was outside the castle grounds, breathing heavily.

Merlin?! - he grabbed his head. What if you kill yourself because of him?! What if you- how could he live with himself! - he-

"I can't breathe!" he gasped for air. "I- what's happ-" he tried to grab the air with his hands but then his eyes saw you- you in the far distance. You in your Slytherin robes, looking at the mirror of yourself in the water. You were on your knees, just letting your fingers dip and move along the waves.

His breathing got calmer, the air filled his lungs and for some odd reason, he smiled.

"Thank God!" he breathed out, getting on his feet and moving forwards.

You heard branches snap behind you and you quickly turned around, eyes widening in terror. "Please, James don't hurt me! James, pleas-"

He opened his arms and crashed into you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. "Thank God, you're alive!" he squeezed you tight and you felt the confusion hit your brain cells.

"What?"

He squeezed you harder against him, digging his nose into your neck. "I'm so sorry, (y/n)" he felt a lump form in his throat and he started to choke on it, letting out fat tears. "I'm so sorry (y/n)!" he sobbed and started to cry in your arms.

You were completely shaking. You didn't know whether this was a prank or if he was truly honest with you.

"I'm so sorry for hurting you!" he continued to sob and you felt it. You felt it in your bones. This wasn't you being naive. This was you feeling old James in your arms. "I didn't know! I didn't know- I'm so sorry!" he pulled away with a completely runny nose and puffy red eyes, almost matching yours. His hands rested on your shoulders and he sniffed. "I won't do it again. I promise. I'll leave you alone. I'll do anything to make up to you, I PROMISE! I PROMISE I WON'T HURT YOU- just don't think like that?"

"What in the bloody hell are you talking about, James?" you furrowed your eyebrows at him, putting your own hands on his arms.

He sniffed one more time, pulling up the journal and putting it in your hands.

The realization hit strongly. "Oh.." you took it in your grasp. "So, you uhm-"

"I read sum of it." he let go of it, wiping his cheeks. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Are you joking?" you forced a laugh. "You can't be serious right now? Why didn't I tell you? Because it was obvious-"

"I wasn't that horrible?"

"You were terrorizing, James." you spoke completely serious. His eyes kept watching you in shock. He didn't believe it. "I'm scared of you, don't you get it? I avoided you since the first year and every year it got worse. I didn't come to eat unless I knew you weren't there. I asked my professors to not give me classes with you. I did everything I could to stay away from you because I was scared and terrorized by you. " you removed your hands from him and stepped back.

Why were you even holding him in the first place?

"I was really that bad?"

"Yes, and you still are."

"I made you hate yourself? " he asked, eyes guilty and ashamed, afraid of the answer.

"Yes, you did." you continued to watch him.

You were honest. It felt good saying these things to him.

"You think it's because of my mum?"

"You hate me just as much as she does. It's a clear explanation."

"But it's not true."

"well, whatever the explanation is, it surely wouldn't change anything you did. You're horrible, James." it just kept coming out and at some point, you knew this was dangerous but at the other, you couldn't stop. "You used to be so kind and so sweet when we were kids, neighbors even but I couldn't shake you off. Not home, not here. It was like living with a shadow. You always followed and I was always in such pit of darkness and loneliness because of you. I hated myself because of you. I tried to love me, something, anything but you never let me and this! "you shouted, lifting the journal in your hands." This was my safety. This was my listening ear. My healing. My only trustee but now I don't even have this. So thank you, James. For taking everything away from me. " you threw the journal in the lake and moved passed him. "Thank you for killing me."

[ampleappleamble]

lmao how/why am i actually still writing this y'all???? anyway, here's the first finished portion of my new Pillars WIP, working title: God's Children Bathe Free. It's gonna be a one-chapter wonder about an old man takin' a bath and having Feelings about it ♡

—

It was the third Rytlingsdag of the month.

Having been raised in a land of sub-freezing temperatures and a culture that regarded him as more holy symbol than flesh-and-blood man, Vatnir had only ever rarely found himself in the company of the underdressed. Communal bathing was commonplace in many clans to conserve the energy needed to heat bathwater, but bathing alongside ordinary clanmates wasn't an activity befitting the progeny of a god, apparently, so Vatnir had always been obliged to wash by himself, when he bothered at all. (This was all due to piety, of course. Nothing at all to do with how he looked, how he smelled.) And for a brother or sister of the clan to attempt to initiate any kind of inappropriate intimacy with the High Harbinger, to open their robes to him– why, that was unheard of, a perverted act of unforgivable blasphemy. So while he had gotten glimpses here and there over the decades of kith with their chests bared or their trousers around their knees– Hel, back when he'd still had lips, a drunken reveler had even kissed him once, full on the mouth, during a festival– the priest could honestly say he'd seen more dead people in his life than he had naked people.

So to say that his first evening in Neketaka was a bit of shock to him would be somewhat of an understatement.

"Because it's the third Rytlingsdag of the month." That's all she'd said when he'd asked the Duskspeaker why they were here, in this too-crowded, too-loud, too-bright street in the middle of this twisted pile of a city. Though the sun was setting, the streets of Periki's Overlook were more than adequately illuminated by arcane torches, their eerie blue light glinting off of the glittering cobblestone. Vatnir winced against the unnatural glare as he tried to avert his gaze from the unsettling amount of bare skin around him, and he muttered softly to himself, pondering the uncharacteristically cryptic response the little Watcher had given him. What did the day of the month have to do with dragging him up a crowded, noisy mountain, being shamelessly gawked at by barely-dressed socialites?

"You haven't figured it out yet?" The air suddenly tasted strongly of the sea, and Vatnir turned his head to find Tekēhu looming over his shoulder, that seemingly permanent sensual grin still chiseled into his perfect face. "I say, you are a rare one, friend Vatnir. I almost envy you, your innocence..."

"Don't tease him, Tekēhu." Pallegina's voice had an edge to it– more than usual, even– but Vatnir still spotted a tiny smile playing on the feathered woman's lips. Until she addressed him, of course, and her typical cool scowl returned. "We are heading for the Luminous Bathhouse, priest. The proprietor offers use of the facilities free of charge to all Godlike patrons after sunset on the third Rytlingsdag of every calendar month."

Tekēhu laughed and his hand fell heavily on Vatnir's shoulder, his knobbly knees knocking together under the blow. "Ekera, just so! And he has done so every month for at least as long as I have been in the city, if not longer. A truly magnanimous soul, my heavenly half-brother Ganor. And a wise leader our little Watcher is, to take advantage of such a generous deal!" His sharp, white smile gleamed in the arcane lamplight, and the sickly little elf winced.

The bathhouse. They were going to the bathhouse, ostensibly for a bath. And...

"And... the Duskspeaker expects me to go in there?" Vatnir's near-constant trembling intensified for a moment as he considered the implications. Oh, gods, was he actually going to have to disrobe in public, in front of everyone? In front of the Watcher and her little wizard boyfriend and that horrid animancer woman? ...And was everyone else going to...?

Tekēhu blinked at the horned man, oblivious. "Well... ekera, yes, of course. The baths have no entry fee for Godlikes this evening, we are Godlikes–"

"–and the Watcher likes to take good care of her crew," Pallegina finished for him, slowing her pace to match Vatnir's. She craned her neck to gaze into his face, a spark of concern in her golden eyes. "...Although she would understand, I think, if you'd rather not participate."

"Don't get my hopes up, serra, please," Ydwin sighed as she strolled quickly past the little cluster of Godlikes, and Vatnir shot her a vicious glare that she did not notice at all. Tíkka.

Tekēhu actually gasped, and Vatnir found himself tolerating the man's gigantic, clammy hands on his shoulders yet again. "Not participate? Oh, my dear lady knight, you mustn't suggest such wicked ideas to one who has never experienced the pleasures of the Luminous Bathhouse before! Especially on this day of all days! To allow this poor, pitiable man to pass up the opportunity to luxuriate in those magical waters and not pay a pand for the privilege– it's a crime, I say, and one that I simply cannot condone." He squeezed the priest's shoulders to emphasize his feelings on the matter, and Vatnir grunted in annoyance, wriggling angrily out of the well-meaning fishman's grip. Tekēhu looked positively wounded.

"You will go to the bathhouse with us, won't you?" The watershaper's wet, black eyes fixed themselves on Vatnir, shining opalescent in the streetlights. "You must!"

"Unless you would prefer not to," Pallegina insisted, shooting the tentacle-headed man a look halfway between warning and plea, before turning her attention back to Vatnir, that same concern from before still gleaming in her keen eyes. "You seem to be a bit... overwhelmed by the city. If the bathhouse seems like it might be too much for you, there is no shame in admitting that. But ultimately, the choice is yours to make."

It took the priest a moment to realize that the other two had stopped talking and were staring at him, waiting for him to make up his mind now that his options had been presented. His eyes darted quickly between the other two Godlikes– Tekēhu, making sad eyes at him like an orphaned seal pup, and Pallegina, her cool aloofness only slightly betrayed by one feathered eyebrow cocked ever-so-slightly higher than the other.

And then he looked past them to the fore of their little group, at the Duskspeaker marching confidently up the hill, her broad hips swaying alluringly beneath her bountiful burgundy curls. At Aloth next to her, the muscles in his shoulders and neck taut and firm beneath his smooth, flawless skin. ...At that hairy blue gremlin of a pirate, practically hanging from Ydwin's elbow, cracking wise and peeking back over his shoulder to point and smirk at Vatnir. At Ydwin, responding with yet another infuriating snicker that came, no doubt, at his expense. Vatnir glared petulantly back down at his feet, embarrassed and angry and conflicted.

If I go in there, they'll– everyone in there will see me, look at me. At my ruined body, my horns, what remains of my face. He could already picture the disgust on the other bathers' faces, hear the jeers and exaggerated retching that often accompanied his appearance in a public place. Not that others' opinions of his body had ever really mattered to him before, but it hit a little differently without his High Harbinger clout to protect him. And I'll see them, too. All of them, with... everything that implies. He stole another glimpse at the Watcher's curves, her full, round behind wiggling as she walked– and he instantly regretted it, guilt and shame bubbling up in his gullet like bile.

But... it'll feel nice, at least, the bath will. Probably. And all the other Godlikes there will surely divert some of the attention from me, at least insofar as providing a bunch of other strange bodies for the nosy fools to gawp at. And even if I do have to suffer the indignity of being stared at and mocked, they'll have to endure the experience of perceiving me, too. Hel, it might be worth it to attend just to spoil Ydwin's evening... He pictured the haughty little shrew gathering her things and storming off in a huff, her precious bath ruined by his mere presence, and his lipless mouth twitched into a mangled grin.

"Oh, I..." he sighed, picking absently at a scab, "I could join in just this one time, I suppose. If, as you say, I must." He rolled his eyes back up to meet Tekēhu's, just in time for the giant to pull him close with one arm, crushing the frail priest against his moist, briney torso in an overly energetic side hug.

"Marvelous!" he cried merrily as he lifted the poor man off his feet. "My friend, you won't regret this. I'll make certain of it!"

"Di verus, I think he might regret it a bit already," Pallegina chuckled as she picked up her pace again, the matter settled at last. "Do put him down before you hurt him, aimico."

"Too late," Vatnir gurgled, writhing miserably in the aumaua's grip. This was going to be a difficult evening.

—

[ladylynse]

Revision: Maddie can’t deny it any longer. If ectoplasm can become blood, there’s more to this story than she ever realized.

Part 4 [FF | AO3]

(Previous)

-|-

“I tried tracking Danny’s cell,” Tucker said, “but he must’ve figured Vlad would do that and finally turned it off. Or it died. You know he never remembers to charge the thing.”

“I’ll head to Dora’s so you can stay out of the dead zone,” Sam said. “If you don’t want to challenge Skulker to see who can find Jack or Danny first, then head straight to Frostbite. That’s probably where Danny went. Dora can drop me off and pick up Poindexter and maybe Johnny 13 and Kitty if she can swing it.”

“Do you have extra Fenton Phones?” Jazz, being careful as always. Taking the lead, as she’d asked. Maddie stood back, holding the jet packs while the kids went over the plan. She’d checked everything over three times, knew these would work, but—

“Always,” chorused Danny’s best friends in unison.

They’d done this before.

They must have done this so many times before.

How could she and Jack have never noticed?

“Be mindful of the power supply on your jet packs,” Maddie said, hardly believing that she was handing them to two fourteen-year-olds and being perfectly okay with letting them go into the Ghost Zone on their own, virtually unprotected. “They should be able to draw on the ambient ecto-energy within the Ghost Zone, but you will have to stop somewhere to allow it to recharge or risk being stranded.”

“Don’t worry. We got this, Mrs. F,” promised Tucker as he shrugged on his pack. Sam was already tightening the safety straps on hers. Perhaps she hadn’t needed to tell them as much about these as they had; it might not be the first time they’d used this particular invention. “We’ll let you know if we find them. Any of them.”

“We’ll even ask Clockwork,” Sam put in. “I don’t think he’ll tell us anything, but we’ll try. Assuming we can actually find him and he’s not just pretending he’s not home again.”

Maddie didn’t know the names of half the ghosts they mentioned, let alone have any concept of where in the Ghost Zone they could be found.

She nodded anyway, pretending. Pretending to understand. Pretending to be strong. Pretending that this didn’t feel as wrong as it did, letting these kids do what she could not. Adults were supposed to protect children, and she felt like she was asking them to run into fire for her sake.

But they’d tread this path before, gone this way far more often than she, and were much wiser than her for it. She had to trust their judgement. They knew better than she did. They knew more than she did. It was as simple as that.

And if it meant protecting Jack and having a chance of finding Danny and Danielle….

“Thank you.” She wouldn’t be able to say it enough. “Good luck.”

The two flashed her grins and thumbs up, all signs of their earlier tiredness gone by now. They’d been given a mission, and they were ready for it. More than. She waved as they raced each other to the portal and dove into the Ghost Zone.

“You don’t have to pretend,” Jazz said softly. “Not with me, anyway.”

She had to. She had to, or she’d be curled up on the floor of the lab again, crying until she had no more tears. She couldn’t give up on this semblance of sanity. If she let her guard down, if she allowed herself to remember exactly what she’d done and who she’d done it to and—

Jazz walked over and hugged her, and Maddie felt her resolve crumbling.

“We’ll get through this,” Jazz reassured her, tightening her hug. “I know what I said earlier, but Dad will come back safe, and we’ll find Danny and Danielle, and then we’ll figure things out from there. This isn’t going to ruin us.”

It might have already, and she had no way of knowing.

Because she’d never listened.

Jazz waited a moment more before pulling away and stepping back. “Did you have any luck with the Booo-merang?”

“I reassembled it,” Maddie whispered, “and fed it the copy of Phantom’s ecto-signature that we had on file.” She wasn’t sure if it was perfect. The Booo-merang was more Jack’s invention than hers, and she knew he’d made tweaks that weren’t in the blueprints. She’d done what she could. If Vlad—

“We can tie a note to it,” Jazz said as she took out her hairband, “so that Danny knows it’s safe to come home even if we lose sight of it. I’ve done that before. It will get to him eventually.” She moved to the computer desk to get a pen and paper and began to write. After a few moments, she looked back up at Maddie. “You should write something, too. So Danny knows he can trust my word.”

Maddie moved slowly, finally reaching out to take the pen from her daughter with a shaking hand. She imagined accusations—accusations she deserved—and couldn’t think of the right words to say. What could she write to convey what she felt? The depth of the wrong she’d done?

I’m sorry, she wrote. It looked trite. False. I hurt you both. It was an understatement, but at least it was an acknowledgement. I want to do better. She couldn’t ask for forgiveness, not without doing anything, and even then…. Even then, she might not get it. She wasn’t sure she’d deserve it if she did. Please let me try. She could imagine an offer of help being turned back on her, Danny spitting that they didn’t need her kind of help, but…. But she’d rather that than write a plea that they come home and have him tell her this wasn’t home for him anymore and wouldn’t ever be again.

She had always thought she hunted monsters.

She hadn’t realized when she’d become one.

Jazz gently nudged her hand aside and slid the paper away, neatly folding and then securing it to the Booo-merang.

“What if he doesn’t want to come back?” Maddie asked. “What if he gets our note and ignores it?”

“He won’t ignore it forever, even if he doesn’t act on it right away.” Jazz turned the device on, and Maddie saw the light at its head begin to blink. “That’s not who Danny is.” She flashed a grin. “Are you ready?”

She wasn’t remotely ready, but there wasn’t time for her to be mentally prepared for all that this would entail. “We have no way to follow it if it goes into the Ghost Zone,” she said, “and even if we try to follow in the Fenton Ops Centre, we’ll still need to be able to keep it in sight for that.”

“Which we can. Dad added that tracking feature, remember? We’ll link it to the Booo-merang. Just like the Spectre Speeder. And if it goes into the Ghost Zone, we can put Sam or Tucker onto it.”

Maddie let out a breath. “Okay.” She couldn’t afford to argue. She didn’t know enough to argue.

Jazz drew back her arm and threw the Booo-merang. It spun, making a quick loop of the lab.

And then it made a second loop of the lab.

And a third loop.

A lazy fourth.

And then it crashed into the dissection table, skittering across it before falling to the floor.

Something was squeezing the breath from Maddie’s lungs, and she couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t do anything. She just watched as Jazz frowned and walked over to the device. She checked it over and tried tossing it again.

This time, it made two and a half loops before catching on one of their shelving units. Maddie winced as glassware shattered. Jazz fetched a broom and dustpan, sweeping up the pieces while Maddie watched in silence. As Jazz dumped the remains into the shards discard bin, Maddie summoned the strength to walk over and pick up the Booo-merang from where Jazz had placed it on the top of the workbench.

“What’s wrong with it?” Jazz asked softly when she was finished.

Maddie looked at the Booo-merang’s blinking light. “Nothing,” she whispered. “The copy of Phantom’s ecto-signature just isn’t sufficient.”

Jazz furrowed her brow and leaned closer, though Maddie knew there was nothing more to be seen. “What do you mean?”

“Ecto-signatures aren’t like fingerprints; they don’t stay the same unless some change is forced upon them. They change slightly over time naturally, to reflect the changes within each ghost.”

“But it’s always locked onto Danny. That’s never been a problem before.”

“That’s why it hasn’t been a problem. Because it could update its signature to evolve its records. Now, it’s been entirely reset, and the ecto-signature I gave it is just too different to be recognizable as the same one Danny currently has. I….” So much must have happened to cause that change, and she’d been blind to all of it. “I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work.”

Jazz huffed. “It’ll work,” she said, snatching up the Booo-merang and hugging it to her body with one protective arm. “We’ll just have to get the ecto-signature from Vlad.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Vlad. Like I said, he’s obsessed with Danny. Trust me, he’ll have a recent copy of Danny’s ecto-signature.”

“So you wanted to shoot him earlier, and now you want to work with him?”

“Oh, I still want to shoot him. Taking a blast from an ecto-gun in human form won’t do as much damage as when he’s in ghost mode, but it’ll still hurt.”

Human form. Ghost mode. It was jarring to hear Jazz talk about molecular fusion so offhandedly, to the point that she could mention it like that. She must have discovered and accepted this idea ages ago. And Danny—

“But whether I like it or not, it looks like we need him. At least until we hear from Sam and Tucker.”

Maddie took a slow breath. The idea of working with Vlad…. It didn’t sit well with her now that she knew the truth. There was too much of Plasmius in Vlad. He wasn’t the same person she’d known in college. She had to stop thinking of him as such. “I don’t think I can pretend to be ignorant of everything you’ve told me.”

“You don’t need to. Vlad would probably see through an act anyway. He won’t be happy that I’ve told you everything, but he won’t be surprised after what’s happened. He’ll take what he can get.”

Maddie frowned and glanced at her daughter. “Meaning?”

“Meaning this would still give him the opportunity to spend time with you, and that might be enough bargaining power.” Jazz hesitated. “I know that sounds bad. It is bad. I just…. I don’t know if we can afford to wait for Sam and Tucker. Vlad definitely won’t be waiting. And whatever Skulker says, he’s really not the Ghost Zone’s Greatest Hunter. He’s not going to be a better option when it comes to asking for help. Vlad might have him looking already anyway.”

Skulker. The ghost that used a mechanical exoskeleton. She’d seen Phantom—and Danny?—take it down multiple times. It made her want to question Jazz more about all of this, about halfas, about the consequences of which she was currently aware, but there wasn’t time. She couldn’t afford to distract herself that way. Not when Danny…. Not when Danielle….

“All right. Let’s go.” She was afraid that if she didn’t commit, she’d find a way to talk herself out of going. Convince herself that they could find another way, whatever Jazz thought. The idea that Plasmius might have convinced Vlad to—

But Jazz was right. Different, albeit just as unscrupulous, options were out there to explain Danielle and her true relationship to the Fenton family. And Maddie wasn’t in a position to point fingers when it came to unscrupulous behaviour. Not after what she’d done.

You don’t understand.

She was convinced she’d never forget the cries.

I’m not just a ghost.

She didn’t deserve to forget.

I’m human, too.

She couldn’t just pretend this hadn’t happened, that she hadn’t done what she had. In order to do better, she had to remember. She couldn’t allow herself to fall into old patterns and risk repeating the same mistakes, even unintentionally. She wouldn’t be able to ease her guilt right away, but maybe, with time, with enough changes, with enough effort, she could…. She could accept what she’d done, if not forgive herself entirely. She didn’t think she’d be able to forgive herself unless the others forgave her, and they….

They had good reason not to.

She could ask for it, but she knew very well she might not receive it. That hurt, too, just thinking about it, but—

“Come on,” Jazz said, wrapping her free arm around Maddie and steering her towards the stairs, “I’ll drive. I left a note on the fudge in case Dad comes back before we do. He’ll see it there.”

-|-

Vlad had not intended to come back after a quick change of clothes, whatever he’d tried to make it sound like. Maddie realized that now. Still, it only made standing on Vlad’s stoop this early in the morning even worse.

When the door finally opened, Vlad himself was there to greet them, looking like he’d recently stepped from the shower. “Ah, Maddie, how delightful. And Jasmine. I hadn’t quite made myself presentable for—”

“You can drop the act,” Jazz said as she elbowed her way past him. “I told Mom everything.”

Vlad raised his eyebrows. “Everything about what?”

“Phantom and Plasmius,” Maddie whispered. She had to force herself to meet Vlad’s eyes, and she saw motions flicker across his face until his features settled into a careful mask. Practiced. Polite. The same one he used to wear while convincing the higher-ups at the university that they should be allowed funding and space for their projects.

“Ah.”

He didn’t say any more. He simply stepped aside and let her in.

“We need a copy of Danny’s ecto-signature,” Jazz said. “I know you have one, so don’t bother denying it.”

“Showing your hand so early?”

Jazz rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at Maddie. Vlad glanced in her direction as well and then sighed. “I am doing what I can to search for Daniel. Whatever your implications, my involvement isn’t a farce.”

“Then prove it by giving us a copy of Danny’s ecto-signature. You ruined ours, so if it was purely accidental and not on purpose, what’s the harm?”

“Jazz,” Maddie said, a warning in her tone. They could only push Vlad so far. They were still asking for his help.

And she didn’t particularly want to meet Plasmius right now.

It…. She couldn’t see him. She’d thought she would, now that she knew. She’d thought there would be something behind Vlad’s eyes that she’d be able to identify, some little piece of Plasmius. Not because she doubted the truth of Jazz’s words, she didn’t; rather, she wanted to think that she could pick apart which being was more in control of Vlad, Plasmius or one of her former friends.

But all she saw was Vlad.

The same Vlad who’d stood up for her and Jack when they’d made their first group presentation on the paranormal. The same Vlad who’d stayed up late with her to pore over Jack’s last-minute changes to their blueprints. The same Vlad they’d met again at the reunion and seen so frequently since.

“Surely you know I would hardly impede your investigation when it came to finding the little badger—”

“Which is why you deliberately destroyed the Booo-merang?”

“—but I’m afraid I really don’t have a recent copy of Daniel’s ecto-signature. He, ah, deleted my files just last week.”

Jazz narrowed her eyes. “Fine,” she spat. “Say I believe that. Say you really don’t have a copy of Danny’s ecto-signature. Why ruin ours?”

“I never intended to ruin it. I merely wanted to try to obtain a copy of it for myself.”

Jazz pursed her lips and met Maddie’s eyes. Maddie knew that long-suffering look on Jazz’s face. It was the one she made when she was barely restraining herself from parroting back Danny’s words in a mocking tone, trying to convince herself that she was an adult and above such childishness. Jazz was quite mature for her age, but she was still a teenager. Even…even if she knew as much about the world—and the Ghost Zone—as she did.

“I’m sure I could be of help in other ways. If Maddie and I—”

“You’re not getting hours of alone time with my mom,” Jazz interrupted. “What about Danielle’s ecto-signature?”

“You really believe Daniel would allow me to keep that?”

Jazz’s smile was sudden and triumphant. “Then you admit it. You know who she is.”

“She’s a ghost who’s passed through this town,” countered Vlad. “Whatever you and Daniel think, I do try to protect Amity Park. Keeping tabs on ghostly activity is merely part of that.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Vlad,” Maddie said softly, “please. Even if you don’t think it’s important, anything you could tell us would be appreciated. I’d never seen that ghost before, and I know Jack would have told me if he’d had an encounter with a ghost so like Phantom.”

“My dearest Maddie, I can assure you that I harbour no ill will toward Daniel. I want to see him back with us as much as anything.” Vlad spread his hands. “I simply do not have the resources Jasmine thinks—”

“Shut it, Plasmius. We’re not buying that you’re the good guy. If you won’t give me the copy of the ecto-signature, I’ll find it myself.” Jazz turned and stalked away. Vlad, surprisingly, let her.

Or was it Plasmius who had? That’s what she’d called him, but Maddie still couldn’t—

“I’ll make tea,” Vlad said, putting his arm around Maddie and steering her towards what she knew was the kitchen. She managed not to flinch at his touch. Any other night before this, before knowing, she would have been so grateful for the support, but now— “Or coffee, if you’d prefer. We could do with something right now, I daresay. We’ll catch up with Jasmine in a few minutes. I change my security codes daily.”

“So it’s all…true,” Maddie managed. “You and Plasmius—”

“We really don’t need to talk about such things right now.”

Of course they did. How could they not? Vlad and Plasmius. Because of the proto-portal accident. It had to be. Months of hospitalization, bankrupt at the end of it, dropping out of college and—

And turning around and making millions. Billions.

Vlad had been skilled, but not—

“Please,” she repeated. “Please, just…. It’s really true? You and Plasmius? Like Danny and Phantom? And…and Danielle?”

Silence.

Vlad’s steady steps never faltered. She was desperately trying to think of a way to broach the conversation again. She didn’t want to let it go, to let it die, to let it lie between them unspoken. She couldn’t. Not after what she’d done with Danny. And….

It’s not that she felt comfortable with Vlad. After what Jazz had told her, she couldn’t, and it made her realize that she hadn’t been wholly comfortable with him before that, either. She’d wanted to think that maybe it was just her reacting to Plasmius’s presence, but since she’d realized that she couldn’t tell who was in control—

She wished Jack were here.

She wished he hadn’t gone to search the Ghost Zone alone, but she wasn’t sure there had been another choice. If it hadn’t been him, it would have been her, and he never would have let her go alone. But one of them needed to stay on this side. If Danny decided to call—

Maybe they shouldn’t have left the house.

She could have called someone to stay while she and Jazz came here. Or she should have come by herself. In case Danny phoned. He had their cell phone numbers, of course, but she wasn’t sure how many of those numbers he had memorized; she knew he knew the home phone, but if his cell phone really was dead—

“Every situation is different,” Vlad said at last. He led her into the kitchen and left her to lean against a counter while he busiest himself with preparations. There was no table to be had in here, oh no. Counters, islands, workspaces of all sorts, but nothing small and cozy, nothing intended for anyone to sit down and have a bite to eat or something to drink. This was a kitchen meant to be fully staffed, and—

It occurred to her that she had never seen Vlad’s butler.

Or a maid.

Or any staff, really.

They were always mentioned, and she knew he must have someone—he could hardly keep a place this large clean by himself on top of his mayoral duties—but it always seemed to be their day off whenever she came by.

She only ever saw Vlad.

“What…what do you mean?”

“I doubt the girl is quite like the others.”

“Her name is Danielle.”

“Yes.” His words were a whisper. “It is.” He turned around and presented her with a warm cup of— Coffee, by the look and smell of it. Black.

She took a hesitant sip.

He’d sweetened it with sugar.

He remembered how she drank her coffee, even after all these years.

“I—” Vlad paused. “Daniel and I, our circumstances aren’t quite the same.”

He was admitting it, then. She hadn’t thought he would after his earlier denials. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified. A denial she could have spun into truth for herself, at least for a time. Long enough for her to find some steady ground to stand on. Long enough to make sure she wouldn’t have her feet knocked from beneath her again.

“How do you know?” If she didn’t ask, if she kept talking, she’d lose the opportunity entirely, and she knew she couldn’t afford that.

“I’ve spoken with her. The ghost girl. She’s come to me for help in the past. As I daresay you’ve realized, she’s as much girl as she is ghost.”

I’m human, too.

“And you and Plasmius—”

“I’m stable. Daniel is stable. Poor Danielle is not. Or she wasn’t, the last time I had her in my lab.”

“You still have a lab, then?”

Vlad smiled. “Oh, Maddie, I could never give it up. It reminds me too much of the treasured moments I used to spend with you.”

“And Jack,” she added pointedly, remembering Jazz’s words. Vlad has an unhealthy obsession with you.

“Yes, of course.”

The words came quickly, smoothly, but she wasn’t sure they were honest. How could she? Jazz hadn’t had the slightest bit of doubt in her voice when she’d said Vlad hated Jack. Hated. It was such a strong word. Maddie hadn’t noticed anything herself, but she’d never looked for it, either. Jack’s enthusiasm about his friendship for Vlad had always been her lens for their relationship, and Vlad had always been friendly towards her.

But recent experience had certainly taught her that there was so much she could miss—even from people close to her. If she’d never realized the truth of Danny and Phantom, she hadn’t much hope of seeing past the façade Vlad put up around her.

Maddie took another sip of the coffee, buying time to collect her scrambled thoughts. “And Plasmius doesn’t…hinder you?”

“Far from it.” Vlad flashed her a smile she could no longer call genuine. “The situation has grown on me, and I do find ways to make the best of it.”

How much was the honest truth and how much was a carefully scripted truth? Perhaps things had changed, but Vlad had rarely told direct lies in their college years, even little white ones. He’d delighted in misdirection and obfuscation. He had always been quite proud when he’d managed to convince someone of something false, telling perfect truths riddled with oft-unseen holes where he’d lied by omission. It was never in his papers, of course—he’d been far too credible for that and wouldn’t dare risk being accused of falsifying results—but he had always loved a good verbal battle, to match wits with someone he considered worthy.

She’d seen him to do it so many times.

She wondered why she hadn’t thought she could be on the receiving end of it until now.

Best to change tack, then. It was unlikely that she could catch him off his guard—he clearly knew so much more of the situation than she, and how could he not?—but she had to try. She had to know. “Why does Jazz think you have a copy of Danny’s ecto-signature?”

“She is, no doubt, aware of the tracking I do, as is Daniel.”

“So when you say Danny destroyed your files—”

“I’ll admit I don’t think it was Daniel directly; it’s far more likely to be his friend Tucker’s work.”

Vlad said he kept tabs on ghosts to help him protect Amity Park, but Phantom fought those ghosts routinely. Phantom fought Plasmius routinely. Plasmius couldn’t be helping Vlad protect Amity Park—unless Phantom simply saw him as another ghost and acted accordingly? She still didn’t understand how much influence the ecto-entity had over the human host, but it would surely be greater when the ecto-entity was in control, and—

No. She couldn’t make assumptions. She had to stop doing that. She didn’t know how much was Vlad and how much was Plasmius, just as she wasn’t sure how much was Danny and how much was Phantom. The notes she and Jack had accumulated on both ghosts were surely wrong; they had never accounted for human ties, and that would skew their results terribly. They knew nothing. She knew nothing.

Which meant she couldn’t believe everything she was told, whether from Jazz or from Vlad. Each would have their biases, just as she had hers, and what they told her would be coloured accordingly. And there was always the chance that what they knew was wrong, even if they believed it to be true, just as she and Jack had been wrong.

Except….

Vlad was a primary source, and though Jazz’s knowledge was second-hand, it would all come from Danny. She didn’t want to mistrust either of them, but what they told her didn’t always line up, and—

Maddie set her coffee down on the counter and took a steadying breath. “May I speak with Plasmius?”

Vlad spluttered, losing his composure and nearly choking on his own cup of coffee. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’d like to speak with Plasmius. Is that possible?”

“I— Yes, of course it’s possible, but—”

“Then let me speak to him. Please.”

Vlad set his cup aside in favour of closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I should have realized you were taking this awfully well. I am sorry, Maddie. I didn’t doubt Jasmine when she’d said she told you everything—she’s no reason to pretend otherwise, blatant as she’s being—but I hadn’t realized that you didn’t yet understand.”

His words chilled her. “What do you mean?”

He opened his eyes to look at her. For the briefest instant, red replaced familiar blue before it was blinked away. She started and took a step back, only to hit the counter. Vlad looked resigned as he said, “You’re already speaking with Plasmius.”

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