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peachesofteal · 5 months ago

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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warning: postpartum depression requested by multiple: mama's family

"Where's my baby?!"

You can practically hear your teeth grinding together as you give your aunt a tight lipped smile. "He's due to get up any minute." She sighs, like it's an inconvenience, your mom hot on her heels.

"Hi honey," she says, glancing around your now pristine flat, "how are things?"

"Oh, fine." It's the same thing you've been saying this whole time. I'm fine. I'm good. Everything is great. "Went to the pediatrician the other day, Ry is perfect and healthy." You omit the rest of your news, the sudden reappearance of Simon, the stable, consistent presence in your life, the man who was supporting you in anyway he could.

Even though you absolutely do not want your mom or your aunt to meet him, let alone know about him-

you still kind of wish he was here.

He told you yesterday, regretfully, that he had meetings on base all day today, and you told him your mom and aunt were coming by, but probably wouldn't stay long. It was good, that he wouldn't be around.

Before he left for the night, he made you promise to call if you needed him. Text him to check in. You did as he asked, but didn't hear much. Not a surprise, since he said he wouldn't have a lot of time to respond, but still wanted updates.

"That's great honey." Her smile is genuine, and you know she means it. She does mean well, mostly. It's not her fault you're bad at asking for help, or that since you left home, you've become stubbornly independent. You even spent a few years "gallivanting across the globe" as your sister liked to say, shirking responsibility after uni.

Your family was used to you being a bit of a ghost.

"- don't you think?" Your aunt's voice brings you back to earth, and you nod robotically, unsure of what you're agreeing to. You're about to apologize for missing the conversation when the baby monitor on the kitchen counter lights up, Orion's fussy 'I just woke up mom, come get me' cry crackling from the speaker.

"That's for me." You joke half heartedly with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. You know the battle with ensue as soon as you come back into the living room with the baby, and you dread it.

"Hi baby." You bend at the waist, scooping him out of his crib. "You're gettin' too heavy for mama, big boy. Don't know what I'm gonna do when you're older." The thought stops you in your tracks, the acknowledgement that he'll get older, that soon he'll be six months, and then a year, two. He'll learn to crawl, to walk, to speak. It's exciting, and anxiety inducing. What if you mess him up? What if you don't give him a good life? What if you're not a good mom, or he gets sick, or there's an accident, or an attack or-

No. You're not going to do this. You're not going to fall into these obsessive what ifs. It will only make you sick to your stomach.

You get him into a new nappy and clothes before slinking back into the living room, cowed with your head down. His head turns against your chest, seeking, and you know he's starting to realize he's hungry.

But the vultures don't care.

"Bring that boy over here, let me hold him." Your aunt croons, syrupy sick voice conjuring a roar of nausea.

"He's probably hungry." You start to warn them that this won't last long as you lower him into her arms, but you know it will fall on deaf ears. "So-"

"Just get a bottle from the fridge dear, I can feed him no problem." You fight the urge to to snap at her, unreasonable rage swelling inside your heart. No one feeds him except you, and Simon. Bottles are fine when you're asleep and can't nurse, or between feedings, but he doesn't eat as much from them. Of course, you've tried to tell them that, multiple times, but it never seems to stick. Your mom knows, but she never stands up to her older sister.

Like mother like daughter, you guess. You've never been a doormat per se, but you don't have a strongest backbone, and becoming a mom has changed you, a lot. You've become even more soft, more sensitive. It's... a problem.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You know she's asking mostly about your body, your stitches, your physical aches and pains, which were plenty considering what you went through when Ry was born, but your mom's voice is gentle, like she senses you frustration, and you give her a weak smile. It's nice she's expressing interest, but that's usually as far as it goes, unless you count the meals she's brought over that you barely picked it, not having enough energy to even feed yourself, or shower, or the suggestion that you give her the baby all the time so you could 'take a break' even though he screamed the moment he was separated from you. Not helpful. Nobody cared that you had scary thoughts, scary moments, scary days. Nobody offered to be here at night with you, when you were all alone with the baby after dark, terrified, crying in the bathroom with your face buried in a towel so you wouldn't wake him. No one was here when you were afraid you might hurt him, or yourself, and no one seemed to hear you when you shrugged over and over again, your lack of interest in everything explicitly clear.

You sucked at asking for help, so you didn't. And when you did, you never got it right, or got the right answers, so you stopped asking. Everything became fine. Good.

"Fine, good." She opens her mouth to say something, ask some question, probably about Ry, when your blood goes cold.

The sound of your front door opening rings out like a bang, your eyes widening in panic, and you nearly run to the kitchen.

Oh fuck. Oh no, no no no-

You turn in slow motion to see your baby's daddy, the man who has a key now, stepping through the doorway. As soon as you lay eyes on him, you split down the middle. You're horrified, because of what's about to happen with the two hens on the couch and-

your libido roars to life. Simon's not wearing his usual jeans or joggers and black hoodie, but a camouflage military uniform. One that he fills out, broad shoulders and broad chest fitted snug inside the material. You think you're staring. Or drooling. Or both.

His lips quirk up on one side with a secretive, almost seductive smile, and he peeks over your shoulder before turning his attention back to you. "Hey mama."

"H-hey. Uh. Hi." Your hands uselessly flit around, like you're trying to swat some invisible bugs away or something. "My mom is still here. And my aunt," you can't help yourself, you take him in from head to toe one more time, "you look... nice."

"Price makes me wear my BDU for on base meetings." He grunts, slightly exasperated. Who?

"BDU?"

"Battle dress uniform. It's... the approved, standard uniform. I don't wear it... in the field." His lips press together, and your mind wanders, curious questions about 'the field' popping up like fireworks, but you push them away. Now is definitely not the right time. His thumb brushes your cheek, under your eye, and he frowns. "Everything alright?"

You step to the side, motioning to the living room, where your aunt and mother are whispering fiercely. You roll your shoulders, and take a deep breath. "Do you... want to, say hi?" The question is weak, your voice small. His brow furrows. He looks hesitant, and you don't blame him. They're a lot. It's a lot. He glances down at you again, head tilted in consideration. "Or you could just go. If you ran out that door... well I'd only wish I could come with you." You whisper, and he cracks a smile.

"No. 'm not runnin' from any part of you, sweetheart. C'mon. They can't be worse than..." he trails off, odd look in his eyes before it clears, "they can't be worse than a lot of things."

He follows you around the corner of the kitchen, crossing the threshold of the living room with two large strides.

Your mother gasps. Your aunt makes a sound that you can only describe as a goose being strangled, and Orion starts to cry. Perfect.

"Oh, oh shhh, shhhh." Your aunt tries to soothe him, but you know it won't work.

"Mom," you call over the noise, gesturing to the giant man standing next to your coffee table, and you, "Mom! This is Simon." She stares at you, confused, shocked even. You never told her your one night stand's name, just that you couldn't track him down, so she doesn't make the connection.

Still, she gapes at him. Clears her throat with a question.

"Is this... your boyfriend honey?" Your aunt's expression is not much different, and you freeze. Is he? Is that what this is? You half expect Simon to reject the term boyfriend flat out, but instead-

"Something like that." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, and you lean into it, relishing the comfort. Just the presence of him in the flat is enough to soothe you, lessen the tension you feel building in your chest. "Sounds like he's hungry, mama."

"Yeah, I think he's more than ready." You reach for Ry, eager to pick him up, but your aunt shifts her body, shying away, turning her shoulder to you. You're used to this, the keep away, the way they always try to convince you he'll calm down, to let them hold him for too long, to get him a bottle... but Simon is not.

He goes rigid at your side. You can feel the muscle in his arm turn to stone, and his eyes narrow, upper lip curling. Your mother's eyes go wide, but your aunt remains oblivious. "I can feed him, dear. Go get a bottle warmed up and-"

"No." Simon snaps, rough pitch of his voice dipping deeper into the manc accent, and she bristles. This bitch wouldn't be scared of the devil himself.

"Excuse me?" You watch the muscle in his jaw flex with fascination, wondering what he'll do next. You're brought back to when you met, when he stared down the guy who pushed you out of the way at the bar like he was going to murder him, before calling you over to settle next to his thigh. He put his hand on your waist, shielded you from everyone else for the rest of the night.

You were a goner before you ever had a chance to begin.

"Orion wants his mother. You can hand him over without a fuss, or I can throw you out of this flat. Your choice." His words are hard, cold steel, a sharp knife slicing away, exposing vulnerable parts and smashing them to pieces.

Your aunt has the gall to look scandalized, but when you glance at your mother, she has a different expression. It's warm. Approving. She mets your eyes with a small smile as you scoop Orion up, and then she stands.

"We'll get out of your hair, honey." She tugs you into a half hug before looking over. "Nice to meet you Simon." Your aunt is ranting and raving all the way to your front door, but once it's shut...

"Bloody hell." He mutters, and shakes his head. "I won't let anyone push you 'round like that, sweetheart. Family or not. Especially not in your own home, I-"

"Thank you." It's all you can say. "I um, kind of suck at sticking up for myself, sometimes. It means a lot, that you would do that. For me." He steps close, hand covering Orion's belly and chest, even though he's still crying.

"Kitten doesn't have any claws," he murmurs against your ear, and your eyebrows knit together. Uh... what? "Don't worry, you won't need 'em. Not now that you have me." There's something dangerous in his tone, something lethal and profound. It’s as fervid as his proclamation about his commitment to you, to Orion. Like dark water, bottomless and black, it draws you out deeper, sends shivers up your spine, but doesn't turn you away. It makes you curious, intrigued, desperate to peel back his layers, to dig into him until you know it all, inside and out.

Curiosity killed the cat, isn’t that what they say?

You weren't afraid of him that night, and you're not afraid now. You know Simon is not an ordinary man. You know you've bitten off a lot, by having his baby, rekindling this connection, giving him a key-

but you plan to chew.

#peaches writes #through me (the flood)#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #have you ever wanted someone to defend you to a shitty family member?#then this is for you

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luvzshy · 1 month ago

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Could you write billie with a gf who has severe ocd and it can really affect her sometimes and shes having a really bad day with so it ends with billie's comfort?

Through the Noise

The sound of the faucet running in the kitchen had been driving you insane for the past hour. You kept turning it off, but each time you left the room, you were convinced you hadn’t done it right. That somehow, water was still trickling, even when you couldn’t see it. So, you checked. Again and again.

The thoughts spiraled out of control. What if the faucet breaks? What if you flooded the kitchen? Each intrusive thought pulled you deeper into a mental fog. The mess of it all—the clutter, the tiny mistakes, the endless loop of not being good enough—felt unbearable.

You hadn’t noticed Billie come home, lost in your own world of what-ifs and should-haves. She watched you from the doorway for a moment, not saying a word, her eyes scanning the scene. You were standing in front of the sink again, staring at it like it held all the answers and none at the same time.

“Hey,” she said softly, but her voice felt too distant, like it couldn’t reach you. You blinked but didn’t respond. Your chest tightened, that familiar pressure building.

A moment later, Billie was beside you, gently taking the dish towel from your hand, placing it on the counter.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, but you could only shake your head. It wasn’t okay. None of it was. Everything was wrong. You couldn’t control the faucet. You couldn’t control your thoughts. It felt like you couldn’t even breathe.

“I don’t… I don’t know how to stop,” you said, your voice so small, it barely sounded like your own.

Billie didn’t push for more. She knew that asking you to explain wouldn’t help. Instead, she reached out and wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“I know,” she murmured. “But you don’t have to stop right now. Just breathe. I’m here.”

You leaned into her without thinking, like your body remembered the comfort her presence always brought before your mind did. You wanted to tell her how ashamed you felt—how this part of you felt so messy, so broken. But she already knew. She knew you well enough to understand what you couldn’t say.

Billie stood there with you, silent except for the soft rise and fall of her breathing, a steady rhythm that grounded you. Her hands found yours, and she squeezed them gently. “Let’s just stand here for a minute, okay?”

It wasn’t about fixing anything. She wasn’t going to tell you that it was all in your head or that you should just let it go. She knew that didn’t work. Instead, she stayed in the mess with you, refusing to let go, even when you couldn’t pull yourself out.

After a few minutes, the noise in your head started to quiet down. Just a little. Enough to notice the warmth of Billie’s body pressed against yours, her breath in sync with your own.

“You’re okay,” she said, kissing the back of your neck. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow. For now, just come sit with me.”

You nodded, even though the urge to check the faucet again was still there. It always would be. But with Billie’s hand gently leading you to the couch, the weight didn’t feel so suffocating. You sat down, letting her pull you into her lap, your head resting against her chest as she stroked your hair.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered. And for tonight, that was enough.

#billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish imagine

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fakesimp · 2 months ago

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Flaring Devotion

Warning !

Last part of Fiery Love ! ; Mentions of Murder, a little bit of religious stuff, Confession ; The use of Shu and Vox's 2.0 outfit ; Unestablished Relationship

A/n !

It's been too long, it's been almost a year, I am so sorry.

Also heads-up, it's a long one.

← Previous part ||

➶◜◝➴

You'll be safe,

They said.

You don't have to worry about what those two identical beings say.

Is what Shu said, a few days after the last meeting with their identicals, now you're here, doing your daily thing with a feeling of, something called as,

Uneasiness.

You would constantly look around, conscious of your surroundings, afraid someone will suddenly just come over and knocked you out.

Living together with Shu and Vox does feel, safe. The peace you're getting almost made you forgot your already burnt down town, knowing the place that you were born in just burned into ashes just like that made you feel, weak. Powerless to do anything.

Aware of how you couldn't do anything about it, you could only lay down on the futon, with the feeling of guilt wrapped around you. Thoughts of you not meeting these two figures in the forest probably would change the fate of your town, so many thoughts flooded in, the 'what ifs' scenarios going through your head.

You were silent in those few days, got the two worried about your silence. They'll try to coax you into a conversation, but your short responses are enough to tell them that you're not interested in talking.

One night, it was Shu's turn to keep an eye on you, Vox is going out, doing his 'duties', Shu said. You mutter up a courage and decided to ask,

"Shu," You called him out, the raven haired male who was writing stopped and tilt his head towards you, "Hm? Is something wrong?" He eyed you, there's a surprised look on his face, only for a moment before his face goes back to normal again.

"About what those two said, ... I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself, I kept on thinking about it.." Your apology got the sorcerer put down his writing utensil, he shuffled a bit and you heard a soft sigh coming from him. "It's not your fault, I can understand why you would worry and think about it. Afterall, your home town is now nothing but ashes on the ground." His hues looked at the closed door, he slowly rose up from the ground and slide the door opened.

"I suppose, I, no.. Vox and I, owe you an explanation." He frowned, he then glance at you, smiling apologetically. "Join me?" He asked as he glanced outside, you guessed he wanted to take some fresh air as he explained what's going on with those identical beings' favor.

Soon, you and Shu sat down by the terrace outside your room, the moon shining down on the little garden before you and the sorcerer next to you. "Those two," He started off, getting your attention, you tilt your head towards him as you wait for his explanation.

"My identical self, is called Hikarino. While Vox's called as, Box." He introduced them, "Those two, are polar opposites of us, as if it's not obvious enough." Shu chuckled, though the smile didn't go up to his eyes.

"Those two, hunting down humans for, something called as, immortality." His purple hues reflecting the crescent moon at the night sky, "How does humans have anything to do with immortality, you wonder. It's simply because humans are almost a perfect being to God, no?" You frowned. "I suppose so.." Shu glanced at you, giving you his identic smile.

"We, spiritual beings, are nowhere near perfect, we have what we have now is because..." He stopped, he didn't continue for a good minute before you heard a voice coming from behind you. Giving you a scare, though only for a moment, "Because we, too murder humans." You tilt your head to the owner of the voice, your eyes landed to pair of golden eyes staring back into yours.

"Vox," You and Shu called him in unison, "...Welcome back," You greeted him, and glanced at Shu who looked at you for a moment before looking away from you, with a undescribable expression on his face.

"You two... Murder humans, for immortality too?" You repeated Vox's word, trying to conclude your theory. "To put it bluntly yes, but that was all in the past, we now realize, immortality is truly not what we seek." Vox walked over and silently gesture you to make some space for him to sit down.

And now you're sitting in between the two, Shu on your right, whilr Vox on your left. The three of you look up at the night sky, staring at the crescent moon that conquer the dark skies. "What made you guys realize that, immortality isn't what you're looking for?" You asked, the two was silent for a minute.

"Seeing the world changes, seeing around you from being born into this world, ended to be one with the earth again and again, is not, fun. To say the least." Vox broke the silence, you then heard shu letting out a chuckle next to you. "Fancy hearing that from someone like you," Shu responded, smiling before those small just falls off his face and replaced with a frown after. "Meeting Vox and Making him my familiar, is tough, he was angry at me for taking his death away." Shu explained, glancing at Vox. Earning a sigh from the demon next to you, "I thought you're over from that already."

"As much as I want to let it go, the guilt is still there, you know?" Shu looked down at his gloved hands. He must be reminiscing the day when he revived? Vox. "Utterly helpless." The demon commented. You look over at Shu, you then see him doing a hand motion, and the next second there's a flying shikigami on his palm, floating. The paper then glide towards you, "I'm aware." Shu replied.

"..So did you two get the, immortality..?" You hesitantly asked them, and silence occur once more. "Kind of? Yes but also no?" Shu replied with uncertainty, "I mean, both me, and Vox lived for hundreds of years now. I guess that counts?" The sorcerer continue, he then look over at you.

"Hikarino, Box.. Those two, they exist because of an accident. Their existence shouldn't be physical." Shu added, the frown on his face is so clear that it tells you those two were not suppose to be the way they are. "Those two, are repeating the old history. The old days whereas me, and vox, were so, desperate for such thing as, immortality. Or, me, to be precise since, I am simply a sorcerer." The raven haired male explained and then gesture his finger at the shikigami that has been gliding around you. Eventually it stopped and dissipates into thin air.

"You're thinking about the sacrifice, aren't you?" Shu pointed out, you went silent. The silence was loud, no one is talking, all you heard is just the sound of trees rustling. The sound of crickets somewhere in the distance, and just the moon shining down on you three at the terrace. "If you're thinking of giving yourself to them, absolutely not." Vox cuts the silence, "That is a foolish decision."

"Then is there any other option?!—" Your voice cracked as you unexpectedly raise your voice at Vox' statement, "Weren't they so desperate to get, this sacrifice they wanted? If not human what else?" You look at the two, they simply stare at each other and then Shu's hand reached out to you. Brushing against your hair, "It's nothing about you, trust me." Shu said, barely above whisper. "What?"

"It's late, you should rest, is there a town that you know around? We will send you over there." Shu immediately changed the topic, ignoring the confusion you had on your face. "Don't worry, those two is not something you need to pry into, I know you're starting to regret the encounter we're having." Shu said, immediately drives you into silence. The realization hits you hard that this sorcerer, is aware of your thoughts.

"Tell us where you want to go, and we'll get you there. And we assure you, none of the beasts, yokais will ever land their foot at the place you're living in." The raven added and smiled at you, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. His eyes seemed,

Sad.

It took you 2 days, for telling the two where you want to go, and the next day after they knew where you want to go, they took you to the town you told them about.

Now here you are, standing at the entrance of the town, dead in the night. With the two of them standing not too far from you, you turn to look at them, "What's going to happen to the two of you?" You asked, out of curiosity. And maybe, also concern? You stood there, waiting for their response. There's a good minute of silence before Vox replied, "We're going to be fine," his reply, it seems to be telling you something else. And that is, something along, 'Try not to worry too much, we're none of your concern.'

You frowned at them, but then just sighed. And then you asked them one last question, that you, are for sure, did not expect anything from it. But their faces, says everything.

"Then, will I be able to see you again?" You almost feel like you're asking an illegal question, seeing their faces made your concern rise higher. "Shu? Vox?" You called out, "It's, uncertain." Shu replied, his face, and Vox's, was plastered with a deep frown, and then their faces turn into something undescribable, or maybe, sour?

No, it's not what you think, right?

"Uncertain?? You're going to be okay, like Vox said, right?" You tried not to sound scared, and concerned about their well being. As much as you regret your encounter with them, these two, somehow manage to sit at a special place in your heart.

You've grown fond of them.

"Yes, we will be okay, you should go now. The sun will rise if we stay here any longer, go, don't turn back." Shu said as he gesture you to turn around and walk away, you did, though you sometimes will look back at them, who's still standing on their spot looking at you. After you took a turn into a corner, the two went back, retracing their steps back to their abode with something heavy clinging in their heart.

. . .

How long has it been since the last time you saw them?

You are aware the trip of going back to where those two are at, it is quite the trip. But if you're planning to go visit them, it'll be much more dangerous if you decide to make a trip back alone. You then realized how much safer you felt with them around, now that you're living in a new town, living in cautious and fear, though the town folks cannot do anything but have to continue their daily life despite knowing what happened to the other town, your home town. Despite the fear that's surrounding the people around, they at least have their safety guaranteed. Since the patrols in the town is increased, though you know they're nothing compared to those two identical beings shu mentioned.

Hikarino and Box.

They're not human in the first place, after a few days of contemplating, you finally decided to go visit the two. You prepared yourself, for a long trip, you can already imagine how furious Vox's going to be, how Shu can only sigh in defeat upon seeing you again. But something tells you, those two will not greet you kindly.

. . .

One,

Two,

Three days.

It took you three days to get to the forest, to the forbidden forest where those two lived, you're now standing by the entrance, nothing much changed from the last time you see it.

You then entered the forest, you walked and walked, but as you do, your guts seemed to be telling you that something is not right. Something must've happened. A bad one even. Your foot started to move faster, you ran. And ran, to where you think you will find the two men.

Your foot then come to a stop, your breathing ragged as you stood there, seeing the familiar house. The trees rustling, greeting you with the feeling of familiarity. You couldn't move your foot, somehow it felt heavy, you slowly took a step closer to the house.

Approaching the house, you arrive at the entrance, your hand hesitantly reach out to the door. You tried to slide them open, but somehow it also felt heavy. After you successfully opened it, you slide inside, closing the door behind you, you trace your steps into the familiar building. Your eyes wander from one room to another, eventually your foot stopped once again as you see a figure sitting by the terrace.

It's Shu.

You see him sitting so gracefully, his hair that was used to be tied up now loose, falling over his shoulders as he sat there, seemingly to be holding something in his arms.

As much as you felt relieved seeing him, you cannot miss how he sit there, all by himself. Something is not right. Something is not right. Your mind repeats the same thing again and again, you approached the sorcerer, oh so slowly. Hesitantly even.

"...S, Shu?" Your voice hoarse, calling out to the raven haired male, you saw his figure stir slightly on the spot. He then slowly turned to you,

You swore, you felt chills down your spine when your eyes stares back into his, that's bare of light. It doesn't bear any emotions, his eyes, they're.

Blank.

When his eyes landed on you, there's a flicker. He seemed a bit taken a back at the sight of you, in their house. Again.

"Why, are you here?" He asked, his voice sounded so hoarse, dry. As if he didn't drink for days, "I, I was, thinking of visiting you and Vox.." You replied, while hesitantly approached him. And eventually sat yourself down next to him, there's silence.

You can hear your heart beating so fast as you sat down next to him, somehow you feel nervous. This silence is not giving the usual comfort, it's so tense. You glance at him, and then at the thing he's holding in his arms—

It's Vox's Katana.

"Where's Vox?—" You asked without you realized it, you immediately put your hand on your lips as soon as you ask the question.

"He got what he wanted." Is all Shu said, looking at you, smiling pitifully. You tilt your head trying to process what he meant, "What... Do you mean by that." You trailed off. Then the realization falls upon you,

. . .

...—"Meeting Vox and Making him my familiar, is tough, he was angry at me for taking his death away." Shu explained, glancing at Vox. Earning a sigh from the demon next to you—...

. . .

"No, ...No no, you're telling me,

Vox is, Dead ?"

You stared at Shu, couldn't even comprehend what you're feeling upon knowing the truth. The Sorcerer next to you glanced down at the katana in his arms, and then back up at the moon.

It's full moon,

"Take this, take care of it for him, will you?" Shu said as he offer you Vox's Katana. You almost want to throw that Katana off his hand, but you didn't. You, with your shaky hands, you took the katana off Shu's hand. "Shu.. You two said—" "I'm sorry." He cuts you off, he looked down at his hands.

"I'm sorry for everything," Shu added as he then stared off into the distance, "We shouldn't have kept you here." He continue. Then there's a moment of silence, "But, knowing you, meeting you, was something we did not regret." Shu smiled at you, he then extends his hand towards you.

"Vox had something to say to you.." He said, you stared at his hand, his delicate hand. That you imagined had been dirtied with blood before, you then shook the thought away and hesitantly placed your hand on top of his. Shu gently hold your hand and then closes your eyes with his other hand, "This is his message for you."

. . .

You don't know what happened, but the sound of the trees rustling is no longer heard. All you hear is just the sound of water dripping, you opened your eyes and you saw nothing but void. And then there's a familiar figure standing not too far from you,

You recognize that figure, that back. Without thinking twice, you screamed out—

"Vox—!" The figure turned, his face was originally frowning, but seeing you, there's a sense of relief on his face. "You— You said you two are going to be okay, you liar!" You yelled, not realizing tears had flowed down your cheeks. "You could've said you're going to sacrifice yourself.." You added.

"If I knew the day we part ways were the last day I'll be able to see you—.."

"You wouldn't let me sacrifice myself if you do." His voice echoed throughout the void, you can hear his footsteps approaching you. You didn't move, you had been staring down at the ground, the water below you. Soon you see his figure standing before you, then you saw his hand reaching out to your face. Eventually placed at your cheek and gently he tilted your head upwards. Letting you stared into his golden hues,

You broke into tears.

"Liar." You said in between your tears, "I know," He replied as he graze his thumb gently below your eyes, wiping the tears away. "I'm sorry for not bidding goodbyes with you properly." He whispered, standing even closer to you, "I know you won't forgive me for my actions." He continued, your hand on his chest hitting him as hard as you can. And eventually your strength falters.

Hands clenched into fists, on his chest, you can feel his hand on your wrist, slowly pulling your hand up to his lips. "But this time, forgive me for acting foolish." He said, his words seemed off.

His words, he talked as if you had met him before—

"I don't want to see you perish when you can live a long and happy life." The tears couldn't stop flooding out, he then pulled you into his arms. Letting you cry in his hold, he coos at you. You felt his gentle hand brushing against your hair. Then you felt something soft on top of your head,

He kissed it.

Pulling you away for a bit, he then planted another kiss on your forehead, then another at the corner of your eye. Lowering his head, whilst tilting your head up. His forehead and yours touched, "Forgive me, This time, let me be foolish, let me be the one that give you the happiness you deserve.." He whispered. His thumb graze along the lines of your cheeks as he said so, you sobbed softly. "What if I don't want to—" "Then I deserve it, because I know you won't, but if you do forgive me.." he trailed off, he then shook his head.

The next thing you knew, he then planted his lips on yours. It lasted for almost a minute before he pulled away, "It's time for you to go, I'm sorry, for everything. For my foolishness. I hope you can forgive me next time.." He said as he took a step back, away from you.

And the next thing you knew, your body started to glow, particles started floating around you. You look at the demon in front of you, smiling at you. "Good bye, my love. Until we meet again."

. . .

"Vox—!" You jolted awake, breathing heavily, your hand immediately went to your face that's soaked. You're crying in your, sleep? You then looked over to the side, outside the room, there's Shu, sitting by the terrace, his back facing you. He then turned slightly, looking over at you. "Did you see him?" He asked, his face is so gentle as he shot his question. You immediately went up to him, wrapping your arms around him. It caught him by surprise but then you felt a pair of arms around you, pulling you closer.

"How is it—? Your meeting, with Vox." He whispered, you can feel his hand brushing against the back of your head.

You could only cry again in his arms, not answering him. He coos at you, like how the demon did in that dream.

After a while, you eventually calmed down. You're now sitting next to shu, with his robe dangling over your shoulders. "The sun is rising.." Shu whispered, you who had been looking down blankly at your hands finally tilted your head up. Looking at the orange blue sky, seeing the sun slowly emits from the other end of earth. Your hues reflecting the view in front of you, then you heard a soft chuckle beside you—

"Beautiful as always," He said as he reach out his hand to you, and brushed your hair away from your face. You then saw golden particles coming from your side—

"Shu—" You immediately tilt your head towards him, only to see his body is glowing, like how you were in the dreams, when you see Vox.

Shu smiled at you, though he then dropped his smile and moved closer to you with his hand that was brushing your hair away now to your cheek. He leaned closer and planted a gentle kiss on your lips—

He leaned away and when you're about to touch him, your hand phase through him— "Shu—! Please— not you too...!" You started crying again, he brushed your tears away. It's unfair how he could touch you and you couldn't.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, smiling apologetically at you, and your eyes widen at the sight of him,

Crying.

Too.

His hand still on your cheek, he smiled. "Forgive me, I too have choosen to be foolish." He said, leaning towards you once again, his forehead and yours touched. "I do this because of you, I want you to live a happy life, a happy ending." He whispered, you felt his thumb graze along the lines of your cheeks.

You can only see his body glows brighter as the particles started flying off into the distance, "I'm sorry for leaving you like this," he then smiled at you as he wiped your tears for one last time—

"Until we meet again, My love."

And just like that, he then dissipates into golden particles, away with the wind. Leaving you all alone in their used to be home sweet home, leaving you only Vox's Katana, Shu's household and you in tears.

Your hand holding Vox's Katana tightly as you sob all by yourself, with Shu's robe still clinging onto your shoulders. You watch the sun rises, a new day has come. Yet,

It feels like your day just ended.

A/n !

Okay, That's that. The long waited last part is here, the story ends, I apologize if the ending is not what you expected to be. I am listening to Bruno mars and Lady Gaga's song man ( Die with a smile ).

I'm sorry for the long wait...

#nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #luxiem x reader #luxiem #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino #vox akuma x reader #vox akuma #➴ fakesimp writing for you #fakesimp writing

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welcometomytrashcan · 2 months ago

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Before the Dawn: Chapter IV // Logan Howlett

Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader Chapter 4/4 Word Count: 1427

Background: You are a mutant with hydrokinetic abilities (think Percy Jackson meets the mermaids from H2O), and arrived at the X-Mansion 4 months before Logan. You started dating Logan after the events of X-Men but before he left for Alkali Lake. You are both in love with each other but have yet to confess it. Takes place within the events of X2, Canon violence, pre-established relationship, allusions to sex

The atmosphere in Charles' office was heavy with grief and regret. You sat in one of the leather chairs, the tension in your body palpable. Across from you, Logan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Scott sat beside you, his eyes downcast, still hollowed by the weight of Jean’s death. And Charles sat behind his desk, calm but troubled.

“I should have done something,” Scott muttered, his voice low. “I could’ve saved her.”

Charles, ever patient, shook his head. “It was Jean’s choice, Scott. She made the decision to sacrifice herself to save us all.”

“She didn’t have to,” you whispered, your voice thick with guilt. “If I had been stronger, if I had more control over my powers, I could’ve—”

“Y/N,” Charles interrupted gently, his eyes meeting yours. “Jean made her choice because she knew it was the only way. There was nothing more you could have done. You are not to blame.”

But his words, no matter how kind, couldn’t penetrate the guilt that still wrapped itself around your heart. You looked away, your hands trembling slightly as the memories of that day replayed in your mind—Jean’s glowing eyes, the roar of the water, her final, heartbreaking look before she disappeared beneath the flood.

Logan’s gaze flicked over to you, and for a moment, his hardened expression softened. But he didn’t say anything.

Scott stood up abruptly, pacing the room, his grief spilling out in waves. “It just doesn’t make sense,” he muttered. “There had to be another way.”

“We can torture ourselves with ‘what ifs’ forever, Scott,” Charles said quietly. “But the truth is, Jean knew what she was doing. She saved us. She saved the world.”

The room fell into a thick silence. You couldn’t stay there any longer. The weight of it all—Jean’s sacrifice, the overwhelming guilt—was too much to bear. Without a word, you rose from your seat and slipped out of the office, your heart pounding in your chest. The hallway outside was bustling with students coming in for class, and you used the crowd as cover, disappearing among them before anyone could stop you.

You needed to get away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A twenty-minute hike later, you reached the lake. The serene body of water lay before you, shimmering in the fading afternoon light. This place had always been your sanctuary, ever since you first discovered it after arriving at Xavier’s school. It was here, in the stillness of the water, that you found peace. The connection you had with water went deeper than your mutation—it was as if it had always been a part of you, long before you even knew you were different.

Without hesitation, you kicked off your shoes and waded into the lake. The cool water enveloped you, soothing your aching muscles and bruised spirit. You floated on your back, letting the water carry you, its gentle ripples washing over your skin. The bruise on your temple faded as the water worked its quiet magic on you, and even the deep gashes on your shin began to close.

For a while, you let the water take away your pain. But the guilt, that gnawing sense of failure, remained. It twisted inside you, refusing to let go.

After what felt like an eternity, you heard the soft crunch of footsteps approaching the shoreline. Your heart stilled for a moment, and you lifted your head to see Logan standing at the edge of the lake, his eyes locked on you. He must have tracked your scent.

You swam toward the shore, knowing Logan wouldn’t step into the water—his adamantium skeleton made him wary of it. As you climbed out, clothes and hair dripping wet, you gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You tracked me down,” you said, your voice quiet.

He shrugged. "You ran off. Thought I’d check in."

You sat down on the grassy bank, and Logan settled beside you, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment.

Logan glanced around at the lake and the surrounding greenery. "It’s nice here," he said.

"You’ve never been?" you asked, surprised.

"Water doesn’t exactly like me," he replied, tapping his chest, referring to the weight of his adamantium skeleton.

You chuckled softly. "Well, I’ll have a talk with the water about that."

You smiled at him, despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence was peaceful, though the weight of everything that had happened still lingered between you.

“I can’t shake it, Logan,” you admitted after a long pause. “This guilt… it won’t go away. I keep thinking there was something more I could’ve done. That I could’ve saved her.”

Logan sighed, his eyes softening. He shifted closer to you, his arm brushing against yours. “Jean was going to make that sacrifice no matter what you did,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t on you. It was her choice.”

“I know that,” you said, your voice shaky. “But… it doesn’t stop me from feeling like I failed her.”

Logan turned his head to look at you, and you could feel his intense gaze on you. “You didn’t fail her, Y/N. Jean did what she had to do. And if she were here now, she’d tell you the same thing.”

The sun was starting to set, casting a golden glow over the lake. The air grew cooler, and you shivered slightly. Logan noticed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. You rested your head on his shoulder, finding solace in his presence. For a while, the two of you just sat there, watching the sunset in peaceful silence.

Then, Logan broke the quiet. His voice was low, almost hesitant. “I love you, Y/N.”

You froze for a moment, lifting your head to look up at him in disbelief. “Really?”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah. I’ve known it for a while now. I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but this time they weren’t from guilt or grief. They were from the overwhelming warmth that spread through your chest. “I love you too, Logan,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat.

Before either of you could say anything more, Logan leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender, almost desperate kiss. You kissed him back, pouring every ounce of emotion you had into that moment. It was a kiss filled with love, longing, and the unspoken promise that no matter what happened next, you would face it together.

A brisk breeze cut through the moment, and you shivered, the cold air biting at your still-drenched clothes. You broke apart, laughing softly as Logan rubbed his hands over your arms, trying to warm you up.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured.

“Hold on,” you said, smiling. You focused for a moment, using your powers to manipulate the water still clinging to your skin and clothes. With a wave of your hand, you dried yourself off, your clothes now warm and dry.

Logan smirked. “Handy trick.”

“Has its perks,” you replied, standing up and holding out your hand to him.

He took it, and the two of you began the walk back to the mansion, hand in hand. The sun had nearly set by the time you reached the grounds, the sky painted in hues of deep orange and purple. You could feel the weight of the day starting to lift, if only slightly, as you walked beside Logan, your fingers intertwined.

When you reached the entrance, Logan stopped, pulling you close. His voice was soft as he said, “Come with me.”

Without hesitation, you followed him to his room. As soon as the door closed behind you, Logan gently pulled you into his arms, his lips finding yours once more. The world outside faded as the two of you lost yourselves in each other, the love you had kept hidden for so long finally surfacing.

That night, in the quiet of Logan’s room, you found comfort and healing in each other’s arms. It wasn’t just about passion—it was about connection, about finding something real and solid amidst the chaos of your lives.

And as you lay together afterward, Logan’s arms wrapped protectively around you, the guilt that had weighed so heavily on you seemed to lift, if only for a little while. You weren’t alone in this world. You had Logan, and together, you could face anything.

Whatever came next, you knew you’d face it hand in hand.

Tag List: @spacemacandcheese @oscarissac2099

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #x men #x2 #hugh jackman #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine

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naughtyneganjdm · 5 months ago

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Good Luck Charm - Chapter 31

Summary: After being defeated in the war by Rick, Negan is forced to deal with the repercussions of his decisions in life.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), Rick, Michonne, Siddiq, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, Thoughts of Suicide, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/144090733

Notes: I'm really doing my best to just finish this story. There are a handful of chapters left. By the views I can tell people still give this story a gander so thank you for that! Pre-Warning in this chapter and the next, Negan has a lot of suicidal thoughts like he does in season 9 of TWD. I want to give that as a pre-warning just in case it might trigger some people. (Gif Credit: @jdmorganz)

It was hard to comprehend at first. Pain filled Negan’s body. A burning heat that increasingly grew more painful centered at Negan’s throat. When he first woke up, he didn’t understand what was going on. It took a while before things started to come to for him. Everything hurt. Everything. And that wasn’t an understatement. But nothing compared to the pain in his throat and the faintness that he felt. It was keeping himself awake long enough to understand what had happened.

Once he became more aware of things, more than anything he wanted to touch his throat. Quickly he caught on that he was handcuffed to the bed which only made things even more infuriating for him. His hand hurt like hell, his throat had him in incredible pain. It took a while for the scenes that happened at the hill with Rick and the others to flood his memory. Having time to think about what happened, Negan was genuinely surprised to be waking up at all.

One of the last things he remembered was all the blood. He was covered in it. His expectations while bleeding out after Rick cut his throat was that he would be gone. Dead. After escaping death this whole time, Negan expected to finally meet his end. Yet, here he was. Handcuffed to a small bed in what looked like a storage room.

It was hard to hear the muffled voices outside of the room. It sounded like a lot was happening, but he couldn’t understand what anyone was saying and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. Right now. Negan considered this to be a huge mistake. How was he still alive? Part of him wished that he died. There was a pressure in his head that was almost unbearable matching the pain that he felt with his throat and his hand. It was unbelievable that after getting his jugular slashed that he would still be coherent and alive.

Sleep would have been the thing that would have been best for him, but he couldn’t sleep. No, all he could think about was where he went wrong. Not just now, but at multiple stages of his life. He was doing the one thing he told Y/N not to do in the past and that was think of the what ifs.

Now that he was Rick’s prisoner in Alexandria, it left him thinking about his children and where they were. Would he ever see them again? Would he be able to apologize?

By the time that Rick and Michonne came to explain things to him, he couldn’t hide the burning that he felt in his eyes. He wanted to hold it together in front of them, but the tears were there and it wouldn’t be hard for them to see. Hearing Rick talk about Carl had Negan thinking about his children. He had lost the war. Fucked up the one chance he had to make things right and do the one thing that Y/N begged of him before she died. With the focus being on what his place would be in Alexandria, Negan couldn’t help but think about the last time that he saw Evie.

Instead of being the father that he should have been, Negan broke his daughter’s heart. He said things that his angry mind conjured up. Things the old version of himself would have kicked his ass for. Evie had always been the thing that was the most important to him, but somewhere he got lost along the way. And Nathan needed him so bad right now with his developmental skills. Without him, Negan knew that his children would be lost. And that was all his fault.

Negan heard everything Rick and Michonne were saying to him. It made him feel guiltier hearing that he would never have a chance to be near his children again. As they were about to leave, Negan lifted his head. Michonne had quieted him during their lecture by pressing her hand to his hurt throat and the pain still ached from the pressure she put on it. His raspy tone called out to them, “Wait.”

“We have nothing else to say to you,” Michonne scoffed with Negan tugging at his wrists that were still handcuffed to the bed.

“You…” Negan began having a hard time speaking with the way it tugged and pulled at the flesh on his throat. It felt like it was tearing at the wound that was stitched and he shook his head. “You need to do something.”

“Wait,” Rick urged Michonne to stop before she walked out of the room, his head tipping to the side in curiosity. “We don’t have to do anything. Especially for you.”

“You talk about wanting change. Wanting to be better than me,” Negan whispered, hoping that would help in talking, but it didn’t. It took him longer to speak, his voice breaking and uneven when he tried to appeal to Rick and Michonne. “Back at The Sanctuary I have two children. They’re young. They’re mine. They can’t stay there. Please bring them here.”

“Oh, come on,” Rick snickered, rolling his eyes when Negan tried to pull himself up, but he couldn’t. A wince fell from his throat when he tried to plead with his enemy. “I’m supposed to believe you of all people have children? What kind of move is this Negan? What’s the plan?”

“There is no plan. I have a son and a daughter. My daughter is ten, almost eleven,” Negan grunted wondering how much he had left in him since his voice was going even worse. “My son just turned three. If you go there, you will know they are mine. Evie and Nathan.”

“Why are we even listening to him?” Michonne pressed her hand in over the center of Rick’s chest, but he was standing still in the room, his blue eyes fixated on Negan. “Rick?”

“There is no trick, Rick. Please just bring them here. They’re innocent in all of this,” Negan pleaded with the man who had almost killed him. “You talk about Carl wanting something more. You want to make an example out of me, okay. But don’t let my children suffer. They have no one. Their mom is dead. They are all alone.”

“And whose fault is that?” Rick snarled back drawing Negan to let out a whimper with the fear that Rick would do nothing.

“Please tell me you’re not falling for this,” Michonne grabbed a tighter hold of Rick’s wrist trying to pull him from Negan, but Rick wasn’t budging. “Rick.”

“Michonne, please. What do I gain from saying this?” Negan begged, the sensation of a single tear sliding down the side of his face. “As parents, you have to understand where I’m coming from. Please. Just go there. They were left with their nanny. They have dark hair, my eyes, my dimples…”

“And then what?” Michonne wondered, stepping forward to stare down at Negan when he let out a shuddering exhale. There were tears over his face now and it seemed like Michonne didn’t know how to respond with Rick stepping in beside her. “What do you expect Negan?”

“Just bring them here. They will be safer here with you than they will be with those at The Sanctuary. They’re just kids,” Negan tried to appeal to their goodness that they were just preaching about to him. “Do whatever you want to me, but please…”

“We’ll think about it,” Michonne answered, her fingers hooking with Rick’s leading him toward the door.

“Please,” Negan called out, his voice broken more than ever with his head lifting up from the bed. “I’m begging you. Please.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Siddiq hushed Negan, placing his hand over the center of Negan’s chest after moving forward from where he was at the corner of the room watching.

“I don’t care,” Negan huffed, his eyebrows furrowing seeing that something in Michonne’s eyes changed with her staring out at him. “Their mother was good. They take after her. Not me. Please don’t let them suffer.”

“Come on,” Rick spoke up after a long moment of silence getting Michonne to finally look away from Negan. It surprised Negan when they up and left the room without an answer.

“Rick!” Negan’s screamed out, his head dropping back angrily when he didn’t get a confirmation from either one of them that they would help his children. Screaming was not smart. It hurt like hell.

Fear flooded his veins with the idea of the unknown with what would happen to them. The last time he spoke to Evie they fought. And he in no way convinced her that he loved her. It was quite the opposite. Right now, he could only imagine how scared they were. And he didn’t know how people at The Sanctuary would be responding right now. It was no secret that most everyone knew that they were his kids. He hoped that no one hurt them.

He just wished that maybe, maybe he would get the chance to see them again. Regardless of how much Rick hated him. Deep down, he was certain when he appealed to Rick that he would help, but now he didn’t know. Now he was scared and that was a feeling that was growing more and more within him every day.

----

The sound of water dripping near the corner of the room they had Negan’s cell in was heard. It had him dropping his head back further in frustration since it was driving him crazy hearing it. After they made sure he was going to live, they brought him down to this cell to keep him here. This was where he would remain for the rest of his life. It was dark. The windows were boarded up with only a small amount of light entering the room. They put him in a uniform of sorts to make an example out of him. This wasn’t a life of luxury. This was a weak cot, a bedpan and four empty walls. A room where Negan was left to nothing but his own thoughts and visions.

Hearing the sound of movement, Negan pulled his arm from over his eyes to see the outline of what he assumed to be his vision of Y/N moving in front of the bars. His vision was blurred and he let out an irritated breath. Closing his eyes shut tightly, he threw his arm back over his eyes and scoffed.

“You really won out here, didn’t you Negan? You did things your way and look where it got you,” Y/N’s voice began almost in a whisper. Exhaling loudly, Negan felt tension in his body and he didn’t know how to respond. So he didn’t. “I asked one thing of you before I died and you couldn’t even give me that. If you would have done what I asked of you, you wouldn’t be here right now. You and the children would be on the farm. But no. You had to prove that your dick was bigger than Rick’s.”

Bickering back with this part of his brain didn’t make sense to Negan, so he just stayed quiet and heard her let out a disappointed breath, “And now we’re both stuck here.”

Turning his head slightly hurt when he saw her moving over toward the other end of the cell to take a seat and drop down herself, “Now we’re gonna be stuck together here for the rest of your life. And I thought The Sanctuary was bad.”

Dropping his arms down at his sides, Negan felt like the room was spinning around him. At The Sanctuary he could pretend that this wasn’t real. That this was something that was nagging at him, but here all he had was himself. Nothing to distract his mind. No one to focus on. The only thing he had was this cot and his vision of the woman that he loved that died.

A wince fell from his throat when he heard the sound of the squeaking of the door to the room that led to his cell open. The light filtered into his cell and he blocked his eyes. It immediately gave him a headache. It was the first sign of bright lights that he had actually seen since they put him down here. It flooded into the room when the sound of feet walking on the hard floor drew him to lift his head.

It took a minute for his sight to finally come to enough for him to see that it was Rick standing before him. Trying to pull himself up, Negan lacked the energy that it took. His strength was gone. The adrenaline must have kept him going at first, but it hurt more now than it did when he actually got hurt.

Forcing himself to get up into a seated position, Negan could barely lift his head when Rick hooked his fingers around the bars that locked Negan in his cell. Silence surrounded them. Negan didn’t have a smart remark. He couldn’t goad the man on or mock him. Rick bested him and he knew it. And by the expression on Rick’s face, he knew that Rick knew it too and he was cherishing this moment.

“You getting used to your new home?” Rick’s southern drawl had Negan rolling his eyes and dropping his head down. Great. He was coming just to gloat. “Have you come to terms with the set up yet.”

“Sure,” Negan’s voice was rasp, his forehead aching when he reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “It’s the four seasons. I should have switched to something like this before because I’m just loving being here.”

“Again with the sarcastic attitude,” Rick shook his head and Negan could see the judging look that was there just through the small amount of light that was filtering into the cell through the cracks from his window. “You’ll never change, will you?”

“Why don’t you tell me Rick,” Negan threw his hands up, his head slouching forward when he looked to his bare fee that were settled against the cool, cement ground.

“How’s your throat?” Rick questioned and it had Negan tipping his head back. The bandaging was still there. Siddiq still made sure to make it to his cell every day to check on his wounds.

“Do you care?” Negan grumbled back, the lines in his forehead growing. That question had Rick snickering before he shook his head. “Then don’t pretend to care.”

“I just need to make sure that you are healing so you can be around for a very long time,” Rick explained, his fingers curling around the bars again to squeeze them tightly. “I can’t have you getting sick and passing away on us. That would go against everything that we are trying to prove here.”

“Right. You’re real humanitarian Rick,” Negan snorted, his right eyebrow arching as he looked around at his cell. “Throwing me in a place that resembles a dungeon. How very renaissance of you.”

“You deserve worse,” Rick sneered and it had Negan rolling his eyes. Was this what his life was going to be like from here on out? Rick coming down here to throw it in his face that he lost and his life was now going to be miserable.

Pushing his body back against the cot, Negan braced his back against the hard wall and shook his head, “Are you just here to gloat Rick? Because if that’s all you’re doing, I have things to do. I’m a very busy man.”

“That’s so funny Negan, but no. I want you to do something for me Negan,” Rick released the bars, backstepping in the dark room as he nodded over toward the window that was in Negan’s cell. “Go to the window. I want you to look outside for me.”

“How? The windows are boarded up,” Negan pointed out, throwing his hand up toward the area that Rick was gesturing to.

“I know there are cracks in there Negan. People have seen you looking through them,” Rick responded with a grunt. It had Negan wincing when he worked to get himself into a standing position. Once he got to his feet, Negan dragged them against the ground and had to brace himself to step up on the cot. “Come on Negan, we ain’t got all day.”

“Sorry. I’d move faster, but someone drained a fuck load of my blood not long ago and I haven’t quite got the energy back,” Negan snarled back, bracing his hands against the wall when he pushed up onto his tip toes to look through the cracks that were there. “I can’t see shit.”

“Give it time,” Rick muttered and it had Negan tensing up. It took a while before his eyes finally adjusted and he was able to see through the cracks that Michonne was standing with Gabriel. A loud exhale fell from Negan’s parted lips when he saw that the two of them were talking with Evie and Nathan. Both his children were there in Alexandria and he could feel a rush flood throughout his veins. Evie had the dog stuffed animal that Y/N had gotten for her the day she got hurt under one arm along with her Flounder. Her other hand was holding onto Nathan who looked utterly confused.

Misery ate away at him when he thought about the outcome with his children. By the lack of response from Michonne and Rick, Negan thought the future of his children would be nothing but a fear and nightmare that he would have to live with forever. “Good. You see them.”

“Evie,” Negan called out, his voice barely loud enough for even him to hear. What the hell was he thinking? She was never going to hear him. Tugging at the bars that were on Negan’s window, Negan grunted out before hitting the boards that were there.

“I didn’t believe you at first. I let the idea linger before Michonne and I let it bother us enough. Maybe you were being honest,” Rick folded his arms out in front of his chest while Negan continued to watch his children through the small cracks. “You weren’t kidding when you said that they looked like you. One look into their eyes and I instantly knew. And I felt sorry for them.”

Dropping his head, Negan felt a lump growing in his throat the longer that Rick talked, “Having you as their father? It doesn’t get much worse than that, does it? And to look so much like you? They will have to carry that with them for the rest of their lives. Always having that reminder of their father. Then again, the little one has a chance.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Negan’s eyes closed knowing that they should have been with him. He should have just left when they couldn’t find Y/N originally. He should have started a new life for them at the farm.

“We’ll have someone take care of them. They’ll be fed, be provided a home, given an education,” Rick went off talking about the things that Negan’s children would have while living at Alexandria. “We won’t tell the others that they are yours, but I’m sure it will be easy to see. Like you said, you can tell they are yours. But we won’t let anyone hurt them. It’s more than you deserve, but at the end of the day? You’re right. They are innocent in all of this and they don’t deserve to be left for dead because of their father’s monstrous behavior.”

“What did you tell them?” Negan wondered, his head looking to the side seeing Rick now leaning back against the wall. There was a smug expression over Rick’s features when he smirked.

“The truth. I don’t want them growing up with a lie,” Rick informed Negan with a tip of his head. “I told them what you did. Why you’re here. Why they are here. How they are never going to see you again. Surprisingly, they didn’t fight it. They just listened, did what they were told.”

Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan turned his attention back to his children and he felt tears burning at his eyes seeing the way they looked. Nathan was clinging to Evie and he looked scared. Lost. Evie was pale, her eyes red. She looked sad. Miserable. Heart broken. And he knew that was his fault.

“A few people told us about them. Their story,” Rick continued, his sigh loud when he shook his head. “Tragic really.”

“You know nothing,” Negan suggested, not wanting to take his eyes off of them so he could keep the image of them in his head.

“Quite the contrary. I reckon you’d be surprised with how quickly people talk when they are given the chance. Now I know a lot of it is probably rumors and what not, but I got the general idea,” Rick dropped his arms, waving his hands about when he tried to gather what he wanted to say. “Losing both of their parents in such a short amount of time is gonna be hard for them and I understand that. We’ll do our best to make them feel comfortable.”

Frowning, Negan felt the heat of his tears sliding down his face and slammed his eyes shut. He wished more than anything he could change what happened. Do what he should have done instead of letting his ego get the best of him.

“We grabbed some of their things from The Sanctuary,” Rick started with the sound of paper unfolding and it had Negan looking over his shoulder. Once the light shined on the paper enough, Negan could see that it was the drawing that Evie had done of him and Nathan together. “The girl is talented, isn’t she?”

Rick moved forward and held out the paper toward Negan. Stumbling down from the cot, Negan reached out to grab it, but Rick pulled it away from him before he could. Trying to move forward, Negan outstretched his hand past the bars doing his best to grab the drawing that Evie had done.

“Please, can I have that?” Negan begged of Rick, giving up when he realized that Rick was just teasing him with the idea of it. It was incredibly cruel, but Negan figured this is what Rick thought he deserved.

“No,” Rick shook his head, turning the paper to get a look at it. “I had no idea that you were living this second life all along.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know,” Negan countered, wincing when he tried to snatch the drawing from Rick again, but Rick pulled it back just holding it out of reach. “Please. I’m begging you.”

“I don’t care,” Rick retorted with his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching. “You can beg all you want, but this isn’t your cubicle at work Negan. This is your jail cell. I’m not here to help make things more comfortable for you. What you have right now is what you are going to have from here on out. Nothing more.”

“Please let me talk to them,” Negan pled with Rick hearing the laugh that followed. It broke him knowing that this was being used as a tactic to break him down more. “Just let me see them one last time. I need to talk to them.”

“No, you don’t,” Rick responded, emphasis being added to each word. “The only thing you get is the satisfaction of knowing that they are okay and they are going to be taken care of. You don’t need anything else,” Rick folded the drawing back up and shoved it into his back pocket. “Hell, Michonne didn’t even think I should tell you that I brought them here, but as a father I did the one thing that I knew was right.”

“I understand what you are doing, but please…” Negan whimpered, his throat tensing up when he curled his fingers around the bars that were before him. “The last conversation that I had with Evie was a fight. I said some awful things. I just want to let her know that I love her.”

“And you didn’t do that the last time you talked to her?” Rick wondered leaving Negan’s bottom lip trembling when he requested of Rick to see his children. “That’s a shame.”

“Just let me talk to her. You can stand right here. I won’t do anything. If anything I will stress the importance of listening to you,” Negan’s voice was going with how much he was talking. Rick’s eyes narrowed, his face twitching with Negan going off. “I should be able to explain things to her. Just talk to her before…”

“No,” Rick shook his head once more, not even allowing Negan to continue. “I told you, you are going to sit here and suffer for the things that you have done.”

“Rick,” Negan spoke up again in the hopes that he would have the heart to listen, but Rick started walking toward the door to leave. “If you won’t let me talk to her, please just tell her that I didn’t mean what I said. That I’m sorry. That I love her and she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

It took a lot to get all of that out leaving Negan lifting his hand to caress at his throat. Rick stopped in the doorway, his head shifting from side to side before he backed up and moved toward the cell again. Rick’s eyes gazed over Negan before he shook his head.

“No,” Rick declared, his voice stern with Negan slouching against the bars.

“Please don’t let the last conversation with my daughter be the thing that eats away at her for the rest of her life,” Negan almost whined while pleading with Rick. He was crying, but Rick’s expression wasn’t breaking. “I was stressed and upset…”

“Whose fault is that?” Rick stressed again stepping closer so that the only thing that was separating the two of them was the bars. “You should be dead right now. If you died, it would have been the last discussion you had with your daughter. Everything you said to her. You meant. So no. I won’t bring your children in here. No, I won’t feed some bullshit story to your daughter that you don’t mean.”

A sob fell from Negan’s throat. His body stumbling back when he dropped down onto the cot. It shook beneath him like it would break, but it somehow stayed together while Negan broke down where he was seated.

“Your daughter deserves to know the real you. The monster that you are. And she shouldn’t grow up with any other thoughts than that,” Rick continued, shattering Negan to the core that this was how his daughter was going to remember him. “She deserves to know the truth. Her father is a horrible person. And you’re the only reason it��s gonna be left that way. I hope you live with that.”

Burying his head in his hands, Negan couldn’t help but cry with Rick grunting to himself before leaving. Tugging at his hair, Negan felt miserable. Maybe he should have been dead in that moment. It would have only made sense after everything he did. He was alone and he had fucked up, so entirely bad.

-----

God only knows how long Negan sat there. The only thing he could truly do for himself in that cell was decide if he wanted his cot at the left corner of the wall, against the middle or at the right side. Otherwise, every other decision was made for him. He just sat in that dark cell to himself without anything to make his time go by. Everything ached. They never let him out to exercise. Someone would come down with a bucket of water every so often for him to get a bath when they thought he would start to stink too much. His hair and his beard grew super long and he’d grown much thinner. Lucky for him though, someone had come down recently and cut his hair for him. The person liked him so much that they ended up cutting chunks out of his hair and cutting into his head. They blamed him of course for acting up instead of it being what it really was which was two people holding him down while the person giving him his haircut did whatever the hell they wanted. But Rick would never believe in the darkness in his people so of course he believed that it was Negan throwing a fit that got him this way.

Adjusting his positioning on the cot, Negan pushed himself further into the corner of the room and dropped his head down. His thumbs spun in slow circles in his lap when he heard the sounds of footsteps.

Lifting his head, behind his long eyelashes fluttering Negan saw Y/N sitting down at the bottom of his cot, “You’ve been quiet lately. I thought you finally left me.”

She said nothing, just tipped her head back and closed her eyes, “Are you gonna stop talking to me too? That prick Rick is the only person who even bothers to talk to me anymore.”

There was a time where he couldn’t get whatever this vision of Y/N for him was to shut up. Now, she barely talked to him. When they first got here she tore into him about their children. After what he thought was almost two years, he could barely get her to talk. And he missed it. He missed people talking to him.

“Hey, you know what I was thinking about?” Negan spoke up, his raspy voice weak when he gave her a faint smile. “Do you remember when we first got together? How the two of us would go outside together late at night. Cuddle up next to the bonfire I put out and just watch the stars together?”

Silence followed drawing Negan’s smile to fade and he cleared his throat, “Those are some of my favorite memories. Just having you in my arms. Everything in the world felt like it would be okay then. No stress. No fucking issues. Just the two of us, together. Happy.”

Still she didn’t respond and it had Negan letting out a long exhale, “It reminds me of when we went to Disney together. On the last night we were there I just remember sitting out on the deck watching the fireworks with Evie in my arms.”

Lifting his hands up in the air, Negan made a gesture to show how small she was and it made him smile, “Just having her falling asleep in my arms…” Negan reached up to place his fingers over the area of his chest where his locket used to rest. A hurt sound escaped his lips when it wasn’t there. “They took my bracelet and my locket when they put me in here…”

A shuddering breath escaped his parted lips when he thought about Evie, “I wish I had it so I could still see our daughter. I try to get glances through the window, but I don’t know what I’m seeing sometimes.”

Sitting up on the bed, Negan slid forward, reaching out in attempts to try to touch Y/N but his fingers went through his vision of her and he huffed, “I wish you would say something. Even if it was you telling me off. Please.”

There was nothing in return. Cussing out, Negan lowered his head and felt his heart aching, “Please. Just say something.”

There was a sense of sadness rushing through his veins and he didn’t know what else to do other than to beg. So that’s what he did. More than anything he wished that he could go back to the days where his vision of her would lecture him about what he did. Yet his image of her in his head just looked sad and remained quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Negan whimpered feeling the warmth of his tears burning at his eyes. “I should have listened to you. I should have gone to the farm. I promised you that I would go and I didn’t. I made so many promises to you, Lucille and the children…I ruined it. I hurt all of you and it’s completely my fault.”

An annoying squeaking sound filled the air followed by the blinding light that would often come when someone opened the door to the room that held his cell. Shakily lifting his hand up to block the light, Negan winced and heard footsteps entering his room. Looking beside him on the bed, his vision of Y/N was gone and he frowned. Trying to wipe at his face to hide that he was upset, Negan pulled back into his position at the corner of the room to hide himself.

“Who were you talking to?” Rick’s voice stammered as he got closer to the bars. Remaining silent, Negan wasn’t going to give Rick the justification in speaking to him. “I’m talking to you.”

Keeping quiet, Negan swallowed down hard and Rick grabbed the chair that was at the corner of the room to bring it to the bars to sit in front of it, “I heard you talking when I walked by. Were you talking to yourself?”

Keeping his head turned toward the wall, Negan didn’t want to let Rick see that he had gotten emotional so he tried to count to himself. Most of the time Rick would come down here just to ramble about all the good that he was doing. That’s when Negan would have to go back to putting on a show. Pretending that he was perfectly fine, when realistically? He wasn’t. Rick didn’t talk to him about his children. Other than the first day, Nathan and Evie weren’t a topic of discussion. So honestly? He didn’t give a fuck. The only nice thing about Rick was that he spoke to him. No one else did. But he didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

“I see you didn’t eat your breakfast again,” Rick scoffed, nudging the tray that was before Negan’s cell with his foot. “You’re gonna have to eat at some point Negan. If we need to have people hold you down in order to shove food down your throat, then we will do it.”

Scoffing, Negan dropped his head down and realized that his body was still shaking. Well, Rick wasn’t wrong about that. The people here would have no problems if it came to doing with him what they wanted.

“What’s gonna make you eat?” Rick wondered with a huff, but Negan still remained quiet. “Come on Negan, the man with the biggest mouth I’ve ever known suddenly goes mute? I don’t buy it. Why don’t you tell me what it’s gonna take to make you eat.”

“You won’t,” Negan finally spoke, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when he pulled his knees in closer to his body. Meeting Rick’s stare had Negan’s dry lips parting, his heart skipping in his chest when he felt an ounce of hope. “My kids.”

A crack of a smile tugged at Rick’s lips, his head dropping down when he chuckled at Negan’s response, “Please.”

“No,” Rick refused reaching up to drag his fingers across the side of his face. “Your children are doing perfectly fine without you. The last thing they need is you worming yourself back into their lives.”

“Please. I don’t even know if they are okay. It’s been two years since I’ve seen them,” Negan stressed hating to beg Rick for something like this, but he knew how he was feeling. And that was hopeless. All he could think about over the last two years was all the mistakes he made with Lucille, Y/N and the children. So there was nothing keeping him going. “Ten minutes.”

“No,” Rick firmly answered, the lines in his forehead growing when he got more relaxed in the chair that he was sitting in. “They are living with someone and they are doing just fine.”

“Tell me about them?” Negan shakily pushed up from the cot he was on, dragging his bare feet across the concrete of his cell. Curling his long fingers around the cell bars, he shrugged his shoulders and let out a long sigh. “Please.”

“You don’t care,” Rick grunted and it had Negan dropping his head down. Rick was contemplating what he should do before he dramatically bobbed his head about. “Your daughter is book smart. She’s miles ahead of other children her age. And she’s still drawing. She’s very talented. Always drawing you and who I assume to be her mother.”

“She still draws me?” Negan was surprised to hear that especially since their last discussion together was so awful. Rick nodded his head and Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered. That was the first thing that showed any source of happiness from Negan since Rick started coming down here. “Does she seem okay?”

“She’s quiet if that’s what you’re asking,” Rick alerted Negan with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “She sticks to herself, but she’s very polite. And your little one is a very sweet boy. Tries to get everyone to play catch with him. He’s not very good at it, but he tries. I saw your daughter playing alone with a soccer ball one day. Really talented kid, but she doesn’t really play with the others.”

“Is Nathan talking more?” Negan inquired noticing that Rick was uncomfortable talking about his children, but he was trying to get as much information as he could. “He had trouble talking when we were together. I was trying to work with him to get him talking more, I just…”

“He talks,” Rick held his hands up in the air to get Negan to stop before he could keep going. “He talks a lot. Stutters a bit through his words, but he talks. I think Evie works with him. She takes really good care of him. She’s very protective of him.”

“She always was,” Negan commented, dropping his hands down at his sides with Rick pointing down at the tray that was there. “What?”

“I answered your questions. Now eat something,” Rick ordered with Negan’s jaw clenching in frustration. There was anger between the both of them. It wasn’t something that they agreed on. This was next to nothing in terms of what Rick was doing for him. “I did something for you. Now do something for me.”

Glaring at Rick, Negan lowered down to grab the piece of toast that was on his plate. Bringing it up to his lips, Negan took a bite of the stale tasting bread as he dropped back down on the cot. There was a silence between them with Rick rolling his eyes when Negan just held the remainder of the bread in his hand.

“Eat the whole thing Negan,” Rick demanded of Negan, wiping his hands off on his pants before going to leave. Once he got to the door, Negan called out to him and Rick turned on his heel. “What Negan? I’ve got things to do.”

“I’ll eat the whole thing if you do something else for me,” Negan suggested, nodding toward the tray of food that was before him on the ground.

“God, what is it now with you?” Rick back stepped, resting his hands on his hips when he gave Negan his attention again.

“When I came here, you took off a locket I was wearing and a bracelet…” Negan declared, lifting his hand shakily to place it over the center of his chest. “The locket was something that Evie gave me when she was little. I promised her I would never take it off. I have a few wedding rings on that necklace too. You get me that locket and that bracelet? I’ll eat everything you give me.”

Looking at the tray of food and back to Negan, Rick shook his head and snickered, “No.”

“Why?” Negan snapped, his voice growing angry as he pulled himself to the edge of the cot. “It’s just a fucking locket, a couple of rings and a bracelet. Why can’t I have that?”

“You’re resourceful Negan. Who knows what you would do with those. Maybe wear it down by rubbing it on the wall until you get it sharp and try to escape,” Rick tossed his hands up in the air hearing Negan let out a defeated breath. “I refuse to give you something that can be used as a weapon.”

“Please,” Negan’s voice was broken, his body tremoring with Rick denying him the one thing he actually wanted if he couldn’t physically see his children. “I promise, I just want to put it back where it belongs. The locket is from Evie and it’s designed like a compass. You can go look yourself. Inside is a photo of the two of us when she was born. The other side is a photo of us together for a Christmas photo. On the back is her initials and…and the words daddy’s little dream come true. That’s what I always called her. And the bracelet? If you look at Evie she has a matching one. I bought her, her mother and I matching bracelets. They are just beads with two charms. It has her mother’s initials on it and hers on mine. On hers, it’s her mother’s and mine.”

“A promise from you doesn’t mean shit to me Negan,” Rick replied back, pushing his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders when he spoke. It had Negan’s face going pale and he realized where this whole thing was headed. “You can say whatever you want, but you aren’t going to convince me that you are going to be a good boy if I get you those two things.”

“Please,” Negan put emphasis on his words hoping that he could somehow change Rick’s mind. Still, Rick shook his head and Negan let out an enraged sound. With a growl, Negan threw the piece of toast that he still had in his hand across the room. It just missed Rick before hitting the wall. Heading over to the cot, Negan laid back on it and covered his eyes with his arm.

The sound of the door closing was heard and he assumed that meant that Rick left. His heart was hammering inside of his chest when he heard the sound of the chair being pulled closer to the cell again.

“Why don’t you tell me about their mother Negan,” Rick’s voice spoke up drawing Negan to tense up from where he was laid out on the cot. “Where is their mother? Is she the woman that you talked about with Gabriel? Your wife?”

Staying silent, Negan’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything. He just felt chills flood his body with Rick trying to get him to talk about Y/N.

“Was she their mother?” Rick tried to get the information out of Negan, his voice growing louder when Negan refused to respond. “See, I was doing the math with how old your son is and something isn’t adding up. With what you told Gabriel, you wouldn’t have been able to have Nathan. Women don’t have babies when they are going through chemotherapy.”

“That’s incorrect,” Negan snarled, his arm lifting from his face with his eyes glaring out at Rick. When Lucille was diagnosed with cancer he researched to see if it would be possible for them to have children since he knew how much Lucille actually wanted a child. “Your ignorance is fucking showing. Pick up a fucking book Rick. There are certain restrictions, but instead of educating you maybe you should fucking find someone to teach you.”

“So their mother was your wife that passed away from cancer?” Rick pushed, surprise flooding his features with how angry Negan got at him. Narrowing his eyes, Negan dropped his head back down and scoffed. “No, I don’t think she is.”

“Congratulations Rick,” Negan threw his hand up in the air and huffed. “Their mother is of no business to yours.”

“Where is she Negan?” Rick asked again, but this time Negan wasn’t even going to give him anything. He stayed quiet and Rick threw his hands up in the air. “Let’s see if I got this right. Their nanny at The Sanctuary gave us a little rundown when we picked them up. I wonder how much of it is actually right,” Rick sat forward on the chair with Negan turning his head to stare out at Rick. “Their mother was someone from your past. Someone who was apparently head over heels in love with you, but you were married to your wife you told Gabriel about. You told him that you cheated. So this is the woman that you cheated with?”

Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan felt his fists clenching at his sides knowing that Rick was pulling together a story from bits and pieces of what people at The Sanctuary must have told him, “There is a big age gap between the two of them. Evie and Nathan. Eight years? What did you do for eight years to keep this woman wrapped around your finger?”

Licking at his lips, Negan didn’t know where Rick was headed with this discussion so he stayed silent, “According to the nanny, your family just showed up one day. No one thought you had a family. Hell, most people didn’t know that you had a wife before all this. Just those woman that you kept in that room. Apparently you became someone they didn’t know when your family showed up at The Sanctuary. They said you were very dedicated to your daughter. It was like you were a family man. It pissed off a lot of your Saviors. You were barely around because you were with them. You even got married to their mother, but one day the two of you went away. But she didn’t come back. Only you did. Evidently some people said you went crazy. That you started seeing things and talking to yourself. What did you do to her Negan? Did you kill her?”

“Fuck you,” Negan spat, sitting up on the cot with his eyes narrowing out at Rick. His fists clenched at his sides with Rick expecting some kind of answer out of him.

“Did she step out of line? They told me that their mother was very strong willed. Put you in your place instead of bending the knee to you,” Rick explained, his jaw clenching when he dropped his hands in his lap. “Did she say the wrong thing and you killed her? What you did screwed with your head so much that you made up this story about leaving her in a town after she was bit? I guess you had your Saviors looking for her for weeks and nothing? So what did you do with her Negan? How’d you kill her?”

“You have a lot of fucking nerve,” Negan snarled, a fire burning deep within him with Rick’s blue eyes staring out at him. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I don’t? Then why don’t you tell me what happened Negan,” Rick offered up, throwing his hands up waiting for some kind of answer. “Because if what you said was true, how come they never found her body? What’d you do to your children’s mother?”

“Is that what you’re selling? That I killed their mother?” Negan huffed out, his whole body tensing up with the fury that was building inside of him. Standing up from the cot that he was on, Negan approached the bars and Rick stood up. “You’re an asshole. If you aren’t going to get me those things, then get the fuck out of here Rick.”

“Let’s talk about those rings you are so desperate for Negan,” Rick waved his hand about in the air, almost mocking him with his tone. “I’m assuming it’s from your wife that died from cancer and it belonged to your children’s mother? Which one will you mourn over? Or is one of them a trophy that you kept so that way you…”

“One more fucking word,” Negan warned Rick who was clearly trying to bait Negan and was pleased when he did so. “The rings belonged to both women and it has my wedding rings on them too. You know what it’s like to love two women in your life, don’t you Rick? So how dare you judge me like I’m some piece of shit. I just want my daughter’s fucking locket, my rings and the bracelet. Don’t turn it into something that it’s not.”

“What’s with you suddenly caring about your children?” Rick sounded curious, but Negan was attempting to hold it together since Rick had already baited him enough as it was. “I’m not falling for it Negan. If you cared about your children, you wouldn’t be stuck in this position. You would have been thinking about them instead of being here. You would have put them first.”

“Like you did with Carl?” Negan spat back, the anger from the discussion causing him to say the first thing that came to him. A moment later Negan felt his body being yanked forward, his head hitting the bars with how firmly Rick pulled him. Hissing out, Negan felt Rick draw him back and pull him forward again making him slam into the bars. With the lack of strength, Negan’s body gave out only being held up by the grasp that Rick had on the blue button down they had put on Negan. A line of blood was sliding down the side of Negan’s face from a wound that was over his eyebrow. Shakily lifting his hands, Negan grasped onto Rick’s wrist and feigned a smile. “You can dish it, but can’t take it back?”

Grunting, Negan’s body hit the ground hard after Rick released him. After pacing, Rick headed for the door and stopped when Negan tried to pull himself up, but failed, “You’re a miserable piece of shit Negan. And that’s never gonna change.”

The sound of the door slamming was heard, Negan lifted his head and in the shadows saw something different than he was used to. Even though his vision was blurred, Negan tried to pull himself up, but the strength was gone.

“Lucille?” Negan called out, his hands reaching for the bars letting out a hiss with how hard he was trying to get up and how hard he was failing. When he finally got to his knees, the vision of her that he saw was gone and he let out a whimper. “No, no. Please don’t leave me. Lucille.”

With a cry, Negan looked over his shoulder and saw the sheet that was on his cot. Tugging it from his bed, he pulled it off and hooked it around his hands testing the strength of it. After everything? There was no point in living anymore. And if this was how things were going to go, there was only one way out. Seeing Lucille after all these years only confirmed that for him.

----

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helix-enterprises117 · 7 months ago

Text

Halo Reloaded: Seeing Triple III

The Warthog's engine growled under Silver's deft control, its tires kicking up clouds of dust as it navigated the desolate landscape. The inside of the vehicle was thick with the tension of its three very similar, yet distinctly different occupants. Silver, with a driving style that could only be described as 'enthusiastically reckless', seemed to find a sort of grim amusement in the occasional jolt that threatened to unseat them. Chief, for his part, sat with the stoicism of a boulder, his gaze fixed on some distant point, lost in thoughts that likely weighed as heavily as his armor.

Ranger, unable to stand the silence any longer, swiveled his turret around, a mischievous glint in his one good eye. "Hey, fellas," he started, voice dripping with a blend of curiosity and the kind of cheerfulness that only comes from blissful ignorance of true despair. "How long have you been playing the galaxy's most reluctant heroes? Feels like we've got enough grimdark backstories to start our own band."

Chief let out a sigh, the sound somehow carrying all the weight of his years. "Feels like since the dawn of time. It's been a never-ending parade of enemies. Insurrectionists, Covenant, Flood, Prometheans... And now these Banished chumps. Honestly, it's like the universe has a personal vendetta against my downtime."

"Banished? No such thing where I came from. Back in my timeline, it was more about Spartans going rogue and interservice, political in-fighting." Silver waved a hand dismissively, as if brushing away the memories along with the dust that had settled on the dashboard.

"You boys make my timeline sound like a walk in the park. No Banished, just a bunch of Forerunner tech that doesn't play nice," Ranger chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. He paused, his expression turning thoughtful under his helmet. "Makes me wonder what I'm missing out on. Or not."

The topic of age came up as naturally as anything else could in a conversation held at gunpoint by existential dread. "So, how old are we talking here? I'm a sprightly 2530 baby, myself," Ranger offered, injecting a note of pride into his voice.

"2511," Chief responded, his voice as flat and unexciting as a history lecture.

"Same." Silver chuffed, glancing over at Chief with a look that could almost be considered camaraderie if one squinted.

Ranger nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "Makes me the kid, huh? Guess that explains the youthful charm." He laughed, a sound that bounced around the Warthog's interior.

"Y'know, I got a girl back home. Spartan Linda. Tied the knot and everything. You guys would love her; she's a real charmer, once you get past the sniper rifle."

Chief's reaction was almost comical, had anyone been in the mood for comedy. A slight twitch, like he'd been zapped by a low-voltage current, betrayed his surprise. "Linda..." he echoed, the name carrying a weight that seemed to anchor him to the spot. The moment stretched, filled with unspoken thoughts and feelings, a saga of 'what-ifs' and 'if-onlys'.

"Got a thing for your Linda, huh?" Ranger nudged, his tone playful yet edged with understanding. "Can't say I blame you. If she's anything like my Linda, she's one in a trillion."

The conversation meandered from there, shifting to less emotionally charged topics... that's a lie, it got more emotional. Ranger glanced back at his companions, a new thread of curiosity weaving through his thoughts.

"You know, I've been thinking... It's weird how everyone in your world can just... interact with Forerunner tech. In my dimension, it's a no-go unless you've got this rare Forerunner genome thing going on. Which, luckily, I do." He tapped the side of his helmet, as if to punctuate his point.

Silver, who had been navigating a particularly treacherous patch of terrain, perked up at this. "Yeah? That's a thing for me too." He noted with a half-smirk, then, as if a thought struck him, he directed a queston to the other Johns. "You ever hear of someone named Makee in your world?"

Both Chief and Ranger shook their heads, their interest piqued. Chief’s voice was the first to break the ensuing silence. "Makee? That's not a name that's come up. Who is she?"

In the rearview mirror, Silver's reflection showed a man wrestling with how to frame his next words. "She was... unique. A human, but the only one who joined the Covenant, believed in their cause. She could interpret the words of the Forerunners, activate and use their tech... She's like me, but she used her abilities for them."

The weight of the story hung in the air, heavier than the gravity on Onyx. Ranger, always one to push forward, nudged the topic. "So, what happened to her?"

Silver's grip on the steering wheel tightened, the muscles in his jaw working as he chose his words carefully. "One of my Spartans killed her," he said, a simple statement that carried layers of unsaid emotion.

The silence that followed was telling, filled with a mix of curiosity and respect for the delicate subject. It was Ranger who broke it, his tone treading the line between sensitive and inquisitive. "You sound... kinda fond of her?"

There was a pause, long enough to be uncomfortable, before Silver finally let out a breathy chuckle, laden with a cocktail of emotions. "Yeah, well, she was under my custody, and... we ended up falling for each other. And, uh, she—We..." He stumbled over the words, a rarity for someone usually so sure of himself.

Chief, the ever-stoic warrior, found himself at a loss, his brain trying to reboot like an old, overworked computer. "You were... involved with a POW?"

Ranger’s reaction was a mixture of shock and an almost irrepressible urge to laugh, not out of mockery, but sheer disbelief at the complexity of Silver's situation. "And let me guess, there were... consequences to this?"

Silver sighed, a sound that was half resignation, half defiance. "If by 'consequences,' you mean a baby, then yeah. I'm raising our child. Her name's Angel."

The revelation hit like a gravity hammer. Chief looked as if he’d been physically struck, the concept so foreign and shocking to his disciplined mind that it nearly sent him into a state of system failure. Ranger, on the other hand, clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with the effort to contain his laughter, not at the situation itself, but at the sheer absurdity of life and how it seemed to throw curveballs at the most unexpected of times.

Silver glanced at both of his counterparts through the mirror, a sheepish yet defiant look in his eyes. "Yeah, I know. It's a mess. But she's the best thing that's come out of all this chaos. Angel, I mean."

The Warthog trundled on, the silence now filled with a new understanding, a recognition of the complexities and the unanticipated paths their lives had taken.

Chief, still processing, finally nodded, a gesture of acknowledgment if not full comprehension. Ranger, finding his composure, offered a supportive clap on Silver's shoulder, his laughter subsiding into a knowing smirk.

"Life, huh?" Ranger mused, the landscape around them unforgiving and barren, yet somehow less desolate with the sharing of their intertwined tales. "Doesn't get much crazier than this."

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frouse-enthusiast · 2 months ago

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Soooo

First whole fic is completed

SOOOOOO here's a sneak peek before I post it in a few days!

In the weeks that followed the US lockdown, Smitty and Matt began to worry.

A lot.

As anyone would when almost all of their friends were stuck in a place filled with a deadly virus. A virus that reanimates people into mindless monsters—zombies, rather—with no known cure: only a hindrance.

Within the first weeks of the outbreak, vaccines were issued out to the US’ adjacent counties. All the while, the military in all three areas prepared for search and rescue teams to go and bring people out of the lockdown zone.

All Smitty and Matt would have to do was get their vaccines and wait for their friends to come to them.

Easy plan, right?

But a virus doesn’t just stay in one stage for all its life. It evolves. It changes and with no cure or remedy in the country, it grows stronger. And that's just what it did. Infecting people faster. Making it impossible to get to many places.

So after a few weeks, the government announced that there would be a set number of evacuations. Only four.

Once every month, soldiers would go in squads trying to secure some parts of the states. They would give themselves six days total to get everybody they could and return to their designated countries.

Four chances for everybody who could get out to get out.

During this graceless period between every trip, full of paranoia and sleepless waiting, Smitty and Matt spent more and more time together. Smitty had come to expect it now—his friend’s sporadic intrusions to his house. Stress takes a toll on anyone and, though Matt didn’t always show it, he needed a friend to ground him as much as Smitty did.

But this specific visit, Smitty was counting on. He hoped for it.

He sat on his couch, refreshing the Twitch page over and over on his television.

In a normal, non-infected world, one or two refreshes would soon bring up a stream of one of his friends, usually Puffer. And just tuning in to watch a few minutes of it would quell the noise in Smitty’s head.

But there surely wasn’t any internet in the US. Puffer wasn’t streaming today, he probably wasn’t even near a computer. Nor was John, Grizzy, Pezzy, Droid, and the rest of the boys.

He couldn’t contact any of them.

And not being able to contact John in particular worried him the most.

The last person he had called was John. Or rather, the last person that called him. John was panicked, his house surrounded, and decided to call Smitty in what may have been his final moments.

He doesn’t know what happened to John after that, only remembering the sound of glass breaking and something, possibly someone, tumbling to the floor.

Smitty had faith in his other friends—Pezzy, Puffer, Droid and Grizzy. They at least all lived together, so they could protect one another.

But John lived alone.

So Smitty, as much as he wanted to believe in John, had his doubts.

And on the Reunion days—the days after every refugee had been cured and looked over, and the people were free to come and see them—all his anxiety would boil over. His mind would flood with what-ifs and why-nots in the event that he found nobody.

What if none of them made it? What if John didn’t make it?

What if they couldn't evacuate more people?

To the point where after just one of those visits, he had a breakdown on the car ride home, and Matt decided it was best if he didn’t come with anymore.

So Matt went alone, and Smitty would stay at home waiting for him.

Like he was doing now. Festering in his own worry, til his buddy finally came through the door.

-------

And that's all you get for now! I'll make another post when the first chapter is actually posted, but I hope this was an okay start!

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thelastattempt · 1 year ago

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‘You said I’m holding onto heartache, you said I wear it like a crown, it’s gonna drag me down’; how far do you need to push someone before they find comfort in pain? when you’re so familiar with glass between your ribs that you start treasuring your trauma, feel the tear in your lungs with each breath and know it’s the only evidence that you’re still alive. when you agree that yes, ‘I’m holding onto heartache’ because there’s not a whole lot else left. when someone has to tell you that they see you burning, they see you hoarding up your chewed nails, that you’re still clenching tight even though the impact hit years ago.

‘I still have dreams about it’ because what ifs are whispering from the walls and even though it never could have lasted, even though it was always unsustainable and unrealistic, when it flickered out with a whimper it created a permanent black hole in me. and the stolen maybes ‘keep me drifting back to darkness’ every time I take a step forward because it didn’t need to be this way and I am forever in mourning for who I could have been.

I am my own worst critic, my own saboteur, my own cyclical nightmare. ‘To be honest I’m not easy on myself’ and I will put myself in situations that hurt me, I will see you and I will yearn and crack and break, because everything always always ‘comes flooding back’, like a tidal wave, like a monsoon, like I’m doomed to tread water and never take a full breath again.

‘You should be staring at the sky, the birds just passing by love’. In a parallel universe, I would have been reclining in a field with daisies on my fingertips, beautifully ignorant of my own capacity to endure but here, today, it’s become a choice. ‘Time will always heal you, if you let it make its way into your bones’; Today I’ve tortured myself worse than anyone else, I wear the scars of ages, the burns from coals and the lashes from tongues. Today, I step out of the darkness.

I’d like a little peace now.

#holding onto heartache #Louis Tomlinson #faith in the future #I still have so much to say about this song #I think it’ll end up in another post to be honest #because this one is heavy #it’s traumatic and it’s open and it’s revealing more than it appears #it’s sour and it’s sad #but it’s also hopeful and growing and taking up #my whole sky #holding onto heartache is a cleanser #how good it must feel to peel this from your soul once and for all

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copiousloverofcopia · 1 year ago

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FINALLY, the next Chapter of Death & Flowers is here, featuring Cardinal Copia and OC Ollie.

Thank you all for being so patient with me. Sometimes it's hard to keep up with things when you have a full-time job and 4 kids you are raising lol. I appreciate all your support so much 🥰

Death & Flowers

It hadn't been serious, it never was with him. While Papa was suave and Ollie enjoyed their time together it wasn't meant to be. She knew it wasn't something meant to last…something permanent but—here she was. It was only one missed pill and life forever changed.

Chapter 11: An Emeritus Son

Also available HERE on AO3. Haven't started yet? Start from the beginning HERE.

Commissions are now OPEN, please see pinned post for carrd info!

SFW below the cut, overall fic is NSFW

Copia left his office only moments after Sister Imperator. His face was pale white, with only his freckles giving him the faintest hint of color. He had so many mixed emotions. There was relief, finally having an answer to where he came from. But the most prevalent was the shock.

The knowledge that Sister was his mother, of all people, however made so much sense. All the time she spent doting on him, nurturing him—the signs were all there. Copia ran his hand through his hair, scratching his head as he continued struggling taking it all in. While it was easy to accept Sister as his mother, the truth he could hardly bring himself to accept was the revelation of his father.

“Cardi…that's not all I wish to tell you…this might come as a bit of a shock.” Sister Imperator swallowed back.

“What else could you possibly tell me that is more of a shock than this?”

“Your father, well your father is Papa Nihil. It was a long time ago and I was so young and…”

The memories of their conversation, flooding back to him. Sister’s words echoing like whispers in his mind. No wonder she was in such a rush to get him to take control of Ghost, hinting to him that he should become Papa—he was always meant to be Papa. With all the chaos swirling in his head from the news, Copia could hardly think of anything else. His thoughts however, were never far from Ollie.

What would she say? Finding out he was her baby's uncle—Terzo's brother. Would it change anything for her? She'd already been through more than any one deserved to in a lifetime. Copia, wondering if this would finally be “the thing” they couldn’t come back from.

He struggled hard with it, drifting down the hall towards the refectory as the “what ifs” played in his mind. He was nothing short of desperate for another cup of coffee and a need to be away from his office. He arrived, like dissociating on a drive home, without being exactly sure how he got there. The familiar halls, lined in old paintings and crypts of long gone clergy members whose bones laid to rest within the walls, were nothing but a faint blur.

The Cardinal tried his best to maintain appearances, smiling and nodding to siblings as he passed. Knowing most of them found him to be awkward at best. How would they feel knowing it was the heir to the miter and not just in title? Would they accept him? Did those responsible for his brothers murders know?

Inside he was an absolute mess. Exhausted, not only physically, with his lack of sleep, but the constant stress and questioning leaving him running on fumes for days, perhaps months. Finally a bright ray of light in the darkness, he thought as he caught sight of Cumulus sitting at one of the tables, pensive and troubled. She was obsessively twisting around a lock of her hair and unable to get comfortable in her seat. He approached her wondering what she had learned. What was making her normally bubbly and lighthearted demeanor, so distressed?

As he got closer, he began to second guess himself. Unsure if he really wanted to know anymore "answers" today after all. The image of Ollie spurred him on, knowing that at the root of it all was his love for her and the want—the absolute need to protect her and their child. He continued on, smiling when Cumulus got sight of him. The ghoulette, looking even more nervous than before.

"Buona giornata a te ghuleh, spero che ti abbia trovato bene." Copia began, grabbing the nearest pitcher of coffee from the cart and sitting down beside her. Cumulus turned towards him, her posture still tense and unsure.

"Papa." She began, her words faulting. Worried what speaking her truth would mean. Alpha was the keeper and he had indeed threatened Ollie and Copia. His motives however were woven by his fear. A fear earned for someone was out to frame the ghouls for Terzo and the other Papa's deaths and he knew it, and he believed Copia was involved.

It wasn't true, it absolutely couldn't be. The thought of her sweet Cardinal being involved, sent shivers down the ghoulette's spine. Her tail, twitching with the sensation and catching Copia's attention as it flicked against his back. Copia placed his hand on her shoulder to ground her.

"Cumulus, what have you learned?"

"I know who the keeper is." Cumulus admitted, shaking as the words left her in fear. The little hairs along her ashen skin, standing on end as she waited for Copia’s reaction.

"Who? Who is it?" The Cardinal begged, his rage burning behind his mismatched eyes. He was indeed ready to fight, to end the misery that was being caused. Cumulus swallowed back the knot in her throat before speaking.

"Copia please, don't do anything rash…please hear me out before you go making any decisions." She began, leaving him feeling dumbfounded. He relaxed back down into his chair, having jolted up with the news. He smoothed out the fabric of his cassock and adjusted his biretta on his head to aid himself in gathering his composure.

Why would she protect them? He thought, doing everything in his power to settle himself enough to hear her speak. "I'm ok…please tell me." He beseeched her, his tone, much more level and collected than before.

"I went to the den and spoke with Alpha." The ghoul's name sent Copia back to on edge, knowing just how close he was with both Omega and Terzo. "He admitted that he has suspected all along something wasn't right about Ollie's baby and that he believes wholeheartedly that someone is out to frame us ghouls for the Papas' deaths. He also admitted that he has been the one sending you the letters—he’s the Keeper."

"I see." Copia said, running his fingers over his mustache.

"Copia…Alpha thinks you may be in on it. He thinks it's all a conspiracy to allow you to ascend…" Cumulus explained, watching the color drain from his face.

"He's wrong my dear ghuleh, I can assure you of that but…” Copia swallowed, “...he is right to be suspicious. I–I have something to tell you." he told her, his gaze falling to his lap. Cumulus took in a deep breath, she knew whatever it was, it was not going to be good.

“What? What is it Cardinal?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Copia confessed to Cumulus his truth. She was surprisingly understanding, despite how bad things sounded. Copia could swear that the ghoulette was his only remaining friend. Between Ollie, the baby, and all the mystery surrounding his recent appointment, he had secluded himself. Finding it hard to keep up with any outside relationships, when all that mattered right now was Ollie and the baby.

After the initial shock of the news, Cumulus could feel it. Deep in the brimstone and astral dust that made her, Copia was telling the truth. This whole time he too was a pawn in a much bigger game being played. One that he had no idea he was in, that none of them had, and while his ascension seemed to be the will of those in behind the scenes, Copia had no part in it—at least not willingly. As Cumulus took off back to the den to settle Alpha’s suspicions, hopefully ceasing the letters and taunting, Copia decided to head up to the Papal suites. With his soul unburdened from truth and his dear friend on his side, he found a new determination to make things right with Ollie.

As Copia walked back down the hall he passed Dr. Cunetto. The Doctor had just barely caught his attention, carrying his black bag and looking as if he were to accompany Copia up the main stairway. It was only then that the Cardinal remembered—Ollie had an appointment today. Copia furrowed his brow and brought his hand to his face. How could I forget something this important?

Surely the intensity of the day had led to his absentmindedness, but to him this was unforgivable. He tapped the doctor’s shoulder to catch his attention. “Oh Cardinal, on your way up?” Dr. Cunetto asked him. Copia sheepishly smiled and nodded as they both headed up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ollie pulled herself up waiting for the doctor to arrive. Her nerves frayed and her head spinning at the change in position. She had spent so long in bed she thought she might go mad. Her mind, still heavy with the thoughts of Copia and his secrets.

She was fast approaching her third trimester and soon a child would be born to the Emeritus bloodline. A child that she was working so hard to keep safe—his true parentage hidden. She noticed her heart had begun to soften. Accepting that her lover was only trying to protect her and this child with his actions. Keeping things from her to prevent harm from befalling them. A child that wasn’t even his. She still felt the sting of anger inside, angry for constantly being left in the dark.

Since her child’s conception, she felt like she was an unwitting participant in something sinister. Her baby’s life, constantly hanging in the balance. She missed her independence, her ability to only worry for herself. Selfish, she thought as she ran her hand over the swell of her belly. The little boy, kicking strong inside her, reminding her that it was not about her anymore.

She sniffled back and wiped her eyes, when the sound of the front door brought her out of her thoughts. Within a few short moments, Dr. Cunetto and Copia walked in. Her sweet Copia, she couldn’t help but love him so much. She felt happy to see him, finally deciding to pull herself out of the self-wallowing abyss she had insisted on dwelling in.

For the first time in days she could see him for what he was. A man who loved her unconditionally—and her child. Ollie couldn’t say if it was the hormones or not, but she was ready to leap off the bed and into his arms. Showering him with kisses and professing her love in droves to make up for lost time. Spouting apologies for her insipid behavior towards him.

She knew he only ever did it to protect her and it was time she was a big girl. Accepting things as they were and not as they could have been. Letting go of her anger and coming into her own. Finally standing up for herself.

She remained quiet as Copia came to sit beside her on the bed. Choosing not to turn away from him. A welcome fact that did not go unnoticed. Her small gesture, giving him hope that things would be ok.

“Sister Olive, are you ready for me?” Dr. Cunetto asked as he sat his bag down on the bedside table. The feet on the bottom of his bag clinking as it hit, sending Copia wincing from the discomfort of hearing it.

“I think so.” Ollie told him as she glanced over to Copia, whose eyes were now fixed on her. He reached out to grab her hand when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Copia called out and within moments, one of the water ghoulettes entered the room. Bringing with her a portable ultrasound machine. The ghoulette smiled at them and quietly handed the equipment over to Dr. Cunetto.

“I apologize for being late doctor.” she told him, as she glanced around the room. Marveling at the lush bedding, the vaulted ceilings, and the ornate tapestries that hung from the walls. Even letting out a gasp when she saw the old wooden carvings, inlaid with actual gold embellishment, that lined the archway of the master bathroom. It was clear she had never been in a Papal suite before and was in awe of its grandeur. Losing herself in her observation as Dr. Cunetto spoke.

“No worries Isle, thank you so much.” he said, reminding her to mind herself. The ghoulette smiled and looked over to the coupe upon the bed.

“Yes thank you.” Copia and Olive said in unison—both amused at the time of their shared expression of gratitude. As the ghoulette took her leave, the doctor wasted no time in booting up the machine. Both Copia and Ollie, anxious to see the baby doing well and praying to Lucifer that things were as they should be. Copia watched her, his heart aching as he saw the worry begin to fall over her face.

Thankfully it wasn’t long before he saw it—Ollie's smile pulling at her lips. It had been so long since he'd seen it, but seeing that the baby, safe and sound within her womb had brought it back. He was forever grateful for that moment. His whole world, beginning and ending with that smile. Her happiness, paramount to his own.

“Copia.” Ollie said tearfully looking up at him. The Cardinal, beginning to tear up on his own as he squeezed her hand within his.

“I know amore. He’s getting so big.” Copia stammered, holding back his tears and smiling down at her while Dr. Cunetto took some measurements. The doctor was quiet which made them both a bit uneasy but the relaxed look on his face didn’t give away anything. It was a few agonizing moments before he spoke again.

“Good news Sister, Cardinal. Everything seems to be going ok, I am not continuing to see any evidence of bleeding or issues. I feel like, with light duty and some restrictions, we should be able to allow Sister Olive to come off bed rest.” Dr. Cunetto smiled. Copia and Ollie were so excited. Ollie was so ready to be out of the suite and both her and her Cardinal, thrilled the baby was doing ok. As the excitement calmed and the doctor wrapped things up with Ollie, the reality set back in for Copia.

He still had more secrets to tell her. His heart, torn having just made progress with her only moments ago. Even Copia had just learned the information himself. He knew deep down he would need to tell her and now. Holding back would only hurt her more and create the same problem over again. And this time he would have no excuse for keeping things from her.

As the door fully shut behind Dr. Cunetto, Ollie was already up and getting dressed. Copia, smiling as he waved the doctor off down the hall. When he returned to the bedroom, the Cardinal couldn’t help chuckling to himself. Watching Oliie, tossing out habits left and right from her drawers until she found the one she liked.

“Excited?” he laughed.

“Very! Though I can’t find anything since the ghouls organized it all.” she sighed, wading through the mess of clothing.

“Well that can’t be helped I suppose. They did their best.” Copia reasoned, Ollie nodding in agreement. “Ollie, we need to talk.”

“Copia, you’re right. I am so sorry I was so harsh on you. I know you never meant to hurt me…” the words spilling out of Ollie so fast, Copia barely had time to comprehend them.

“No…no Ollie. It’s ok I am not talking about that.” he smiled softly as he watched her face turn to confusion.

“Oh, what then?”

“I had a meeting today with Sister Imperator.” Copia began, pulling at his collar, loosening it around his tightening throat.

“And?

“She told me something that I need to remain, for now, between us.”

“Copia just spit it out already, what is it?”

“She told me that I am her son.” he said point blank. It took a moment for the words, and their gravity, to fully hit her.

“Oh…I mean that's good right? You finally know where you come from, though I can think of better mother figures.” Ollie smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s not all. She told me that my father…my father is Papa Nihil.”

“Wait…Copia? You’re…no, you can’t—you just can’t."

"Yes…” Copia began, his chest aching as he watched Ollie’s heart break. “I’m HIS brother Ollie. I am so sorry…but this changes—"

"This can't be right. Maybe she's made a mistake." she panicked, head spinning and broken at the implications of his words. She could hear her heart pounding, sparking her baby to move inside her. Ollie, instinctively bringing her hand to her belly. "...this means you're—"

"I’m…I’m the baby's uncle. I'm an Emeritus. Ollie I'm so sorry I had no idea. Never in my life had anyone explained anything to me. No one had—"

"The eye." Ollie said plainly, both her and Copia staring at each other. The truth was hidden in plain sight. After all this time it had never occurred to either of them that he might be related to them. The only explanation the Cardinal had ever heard as a child was that his eye was “a blessing from Satanas to those who would be worthy of his ranks”. Now both of them were painfully aware that the trait was, indeed, inherited.

Ollie sat back down on the bed, her crumpled up habit gripped tightly in her hand as she stared off into space. Copia went to sit beside her again, watching the tears silently falling down her face. She had spent so much time in tears since they’d been together. Some of them were joyous, but more often than not, he found them in sorrow. He wished for her to never cry out of unhappiness again.

“Amore?” Copia said as he pulled Ollie close to him. She allowed him to hold her, her head falling onto the broadness of his chest as she cried. It was warm and comforting there. Like a childhood bed that felt safe and sound. How she wished you could stay there forever.

“It’s just always so much, you know? Just as I feel I can catch my breath, enjoy my life, be excited for the future…the rug is pulled out from under me. The air taken from my lungs. What does this even mean Cope?” she asked him.

“I will become Papa. Other than that, this changes nothing. That baby is still mine and I will love him as such for the rest of my life. Nothing anyone else can say will change that. What happened before doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters to me now is you—and him. Do you understand me?”

“He’s not your son Copia.” she said softly, her heart wanting to tear into pieces within her chest. A patchwork of a thing that it had become, now barely holding itself together. Copia squeezed her tightly, his fingers tangled in her hair as he brought her face up to kiss him.

A deep, wholly felt kiss. They had desperately needed it. Longing deep down to be within each other’s arms. Copia pulled away a moment to face her. Looking into her sparkling eyes as he pushed back the unruly locks of her red hair that had fallen into her face.

“HE will be.”

Notes:

Buona giornata a te ghuleh, spero che ti abbia trovato bene. -Good day to you ghuleh, I hope it has found you well.

#ren writes #the band ghost #ghost #Copia x OC Ollie #Cardinal Copia x Ollie #Cardinal Copia #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #mystery

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pbs-theundeadmaggot · 1 year ago

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first love // let go of your love

🎶 let go of your love by thousand below

(AU) Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[a/n] nearing the end of this series and boy has it been a rollercoaster for me. I'm so thankful for any support my writings have got and continue to get. I've enjoyed writing this story (minus the stressful parts of my life recently) and hopefully in the future you'll read more from me!

[warnings?]self doubt, toxic relationship, angst and uncertainty.

first love masterlist here!

He was chivalry personified, gentle and attentive to your every need without being overbearing and aggressive. His soft grey eyes had were on you and you only, despite the obvious advancements from women that flocked to his side, practically undressing him with their stares to which he never looked at once. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t make your heart flutter, the hope that died watching Steve fall for anyone but you ever so slightly sparking back to life with his welcome touch.

Alas, perfection was overrated and as much as you wished he could mend and perhaps replace the Steve shaped place in your heart, he couldn’t. You’d really tried not to compare him and give him a fighting chance but even that wouldn’t work when everything around you reminded you of the boy you had but never got to hold.

You were mortified when Julien mentioned Steve, muscles tensing up and a cold sweat forming on your forehead at the direction the conversation was going. Turns out he knew almost everything, the facts being written on your face like an open book, each detail excruciatingly obvious serving as a reminder for something you needed to work on asap. Nonetheless, he took the truth on the chin and admitted to knowing all along but wanting to show even just for a couple hours that you were so much more than a warm body to keep close by, more than just convenience and familiarity.

Hours passed in the blink of an eye, swapping stories of unrequited love and the grief it brought flooding your minds until it was empty. Although, he had been a stranger before, he now felt more than that. Like fate had brought you together at the right time, right place; the calm after the storm with acceptance coming in waves until all was still. No more grey skies that clouded your vision, the danger retreating and inviting life back to the once safe space that was kept in the back of your mind. As if the sleepless nights and agonising daydreams had finally been given a reason, the reminder of the cruel fate you were seemingly given, serving as a reminder that you would not be broken by love.

It might’ve been your biggest downfall but it was also your strongest power.

You could love without losing for living without loving would mean nothing but prolonged agony. There was no shame in feeling what you felt but if you kept dwelling on the what ifs and should’ves you’d watch everyone move on while you remained stuck in a past that was long forgotten.

So pulling your phone out and booking the next flight home after bidding Julien and heartfelt thank you, it was time to face reality once and for all.

No more waiting around on a wish that would likely never come, it was time to take your life back and make it what you wanted, without Steve.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

[a/n] reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and encouraged! thanks for reading

other works available here

taglist: @freezaz123

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george-weasleys-girl · 2 years ago

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Chapter 21 - A Quiet Moment

Warnings: brief mention of a major character's death, allusion to underage drinking

Summary: George struggles with his anxiety.

Start here:

~•~

The train chugged along, it's rhythmic click and hiss the only sounds in their unusually quiet compartment. Fred and Angie were off somewhere enjoying a bit of alone time, before they parted ways for the summer. Lee, taking full advantage of their absence, was stretched out across the opposite seat, dozing.

Y/N napped as well, her head resting on George's lap. He mapped out her features, smoothing his thumb down her cheeks, throat and collarbones, before drifting back up to trace her chin and tickle her nose. He had to stifle a chuckle when she crinkled it up, making a funny, little snort.

Safe in their little bubble, George could almost pretend the world outside didn't exist, that Cedric Diggory hadn't been murdered, that Voldemort wasn't back, or that in two months, he wouldn't have to kiss Y/N farewell, trusting that in a year she would return to him for good.

The room suddenly felt too hot, too small. He took a few deep breaths hoping it would calm his palpitating heart, while his mind flooded once again with all the what-ifs. Every possible scenario, from her falling out of love with him to her falling down the stairs, replayed endlessly in his idiotic brain.

George hated he was this way. He hated that his thoughts controlled him. They always had, even as a child, and it only worsened as he got older. Now, with a definitive date for Y/N's departure, they consumed him, burning him like fire from within.

"Georgie? Are you ok?" Her voice was rough and heavy with sleep, yet it still quieted his demons, cowering them with whatever strange magic she possessed. How in Godric's name had he survived so many years without her? How was he going to survive the coming year?

"You know, you snort in your sleep," he smiled down at her.

"I what--?"

"It's the cutest thing ever."

Y/N's eyebrows scrunched together as she pushed herself up. "Have you been dipping into the firewhiskey?" It'd been an emotional week and she wouldn't have blamed him one bit. She'd considered it herself a couple of times.

George chuckled. "No, my sweet, completely sober. Unless you count being drunk with love."

Y/N scrutinized him for a long moment. It wasn't unusual for him to break out in cheesy declarations at random, but this seemed just a little too forced.

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

"Nothing you need to worry about right now."

He placed a finger on her lips just as she opened her mouth to protest.

"Later, my love." George gestured with a quick nod toward Lee, who was starting to wake up. Y/N had completely forgotten they weren't alone.

She nodded. "Ok. But I'll hold you to it."

George smiled, running a finger down her jawline. "I know."

~•~

Next Chapter:

@milivanili99

@slytherclaw1978

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x platonic

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dingoat · 2 years ago

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Epilogue II

[So naturally I had to get my vengeance on @askshivanulegacy for writing TERRIBLE SADNESS after we spiralled into a pit of what-ifs when Ahuska rolled really really badly against a venomous lake serpent and nearly died (it’s OK SHE’S FINE SHE’S OK she’s pretty much fine I swear). One thing lead to another and we wound up imagining The Worst Ending where nobody’s okay and almost nobody survives.

So anyway, what follows here is bleak. Really bleak. If you’re not keen on character deaths, especially characters choosing death, you’re probably best off turning around right here. Nobody’s having a good time.]

---

His bright blue eyes were the last things she saw before the lake swallowed her.

Good, she’d thought. He’s safe. He’s safe. They can still help him here.

She fought, still, thrashing underwater to free herself from the serpent’s grasp, not realising that it was her jolting movements that eased the venom further through her body, joints slowly seizing up until she could thrash no more.

Against man and metal she’d fought, she’d raged. She’d escaped the cages, she’d been freed of the traps and the lies and the years and years of being used, one master after the next. To finally succumb out in the wild, as part of nature’s great cycle, was not so terrible a thing.

Bubbles drifted upward as she sighed and went slack. Her spirit dissipated from her physical form before her final breath escaped her lungs.

—

Five had always known that his affection for Thirteen was a weakness.

When the remains of the hawkbat had been brought to him, one otherwise perfectly ordinary drizzly afternoon, he became aware of just how wretched a weakness it was. There wasn’t much left of him, and yet it had been enough, more than enough, to make Five finally feel something again.

Regret flooded his walled up heart, and it hurt.

Is this what my life amounts to? He mulled over his third glass of thousand-credit scotch, overwhelmed by the emptiness of his estate. Intelligence had officially retired him, his Ciphers all turned over to other Watchers, the team program abandoned.

Spread too thin, they’d said. Even regular Ciphers work best handled one on one, and the werebeasts always did require very particular care and attention.

A marvel, they’d said. Truly, a marvel, that he’d handled them all so well for as long as he had. He ought to be proud.

Proud. Proud! Pride had no place in him, any more.

He’d lost his Hawkbat the day he’d turned his blaster on him, without even the nerve to follow through. Things had never been the same, and he’d never found the will to try and seek something new.

For the first time in his life, it wasn’t his sister in his thoughts when Five wept.

He made his arrangements that night, finding himself filling the paperwork for Thirteen’s star at some ungodly hour. Future generations of Intelligence deserved to know who had come before them, who would always be the best. Headquarters could have its star, but Thirteen’s body was his, only his, and his fireplace blazed white hot that night.

Dawn was only a few hours away when Five finally found himself climbing the citadel tower. He still possessed the right equipment from his years on the field, he still knew how to scale the impossible, and yet it almost felt laughable, out, alone, in the dark against the wind and the rain. He would have laughed, had he not remembered that Thirteen used to have flown him up here, for their exercises. Five’s face twisted as an ugly sob rent itself from his lips.

He let Thirteen’s ashes take to the wind and spread where they may. Thirteen had always loved to fly.

You are my undoing, Five had said, the night he’d proposed. He’d known it, even then, even if he’d never guessed it would eventually culminate in this.

He’d dressed well for the occasion, one of his best suits that had been a particular favourite of Thirteen’s. He’d done his hair, for what it was worth, already plastered flat and falling into his eyes after the climb. Lightning still split the sky, thunder rolled overhead. Thirteen was dead, and Dromund Kaas went on as it ever had, the Empire would carry on as it ever had.

Thirteen was dead, and there were few things Five still had the power to control.

He waited until he saw the distant burst of light that assured him his old family home would no longer be owned by anyone. He watched the hearty flames that would erase all that remained of the boy he’d been and the sister he’d lost, ensuring that nobody could take those scattered fragments and twist them into something untrue. And yet seeing his estate consumed by flame offered no balm to the aching, violent wound inside him.

He knew exactly where Thirteen had stood all those years ago, his back to the great and merciless drop below. Five had nobody to face, when his heavy steps took him to that same ledge, but he turned his back all the same. He spread his arms, feeling the rain on his face, the pull of the wind in his hair, and allowed his body to tip backward. By the time his innate survival instinct kicked in and had him claw at empty air, it was too late.

There were many spires and flagpoles between himself and the ground. He hoped one would have the decency to claim him.

—

Crow had felt it when Ahuska died, though he hadn’t know what it was, or why he’d been plagued with nightmares of drowning for a week.

When Thirteen died, he knew.

His grief was deep and profoundly alone. Blakk had left him some time ago, not that he could blame him. Crow had nothing to offer him any more, and it had grown increasingly difficult to try and connect with the little shadow who had robbed him of everything and given nothing in its place.

For a few days, he flew aimlessly, wretched with despair. It shouldn’t matter, not any more, not after all this time without a word.

But it did, it did, it did.

He stared blankly out into the void of space, spinning his ring endlessly about his finger. Why had he kept it? When it had come down to it, when it had really mattered to choose, Thirteen had made it blatantly obvious that he came second. Crow had been a fool to ever believe otherwise. An utter idiot. But he’d have been a happy idiot, living in the bliss of ignorance, had Blakk never returned to them.

He’d done the right thing, getting Blakk out of there.

And the right thing had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Crow twisted in on himself, wracked with grief, and very nearly allowed himself to simply perish in the dead of space.

When his grief eventually took on a different flavour, Crow’s thoughts finally turned to Five, and with absolutely nothing left to lose, his weak and shaking hands set the ship’s navigation to Dromund Kaas.

He arrived far too late to change anything.

As he strolled, blank faced, through the charred and crumbled ruins of the Highbridge Estate, he jolted in shock to see another figure there, wearing the face of a ghost. The man was a little taller, his hair a few shades darker, and his face was perhaps a little narrower and leaner than Five’s had ever been. But in his eyes, his nose, the shape of his lips, the resemblance was undeniable.

“You must be the older brother,” Crow said, his voice rough.

“Mmm,” the man agreed mildly, his lips tight, his brow creased. “And you would be…?”

“Aahhh. I… lived here, for a little while.”

Eyes that may as well have been Five’s own appraised him slowly. “He did enjoy entertaining all types. So long as they weren’t blood.”

“Mm,” it was Crow’s turn to mumble a vague response. “If it helps, he left me with even less.”

“My brother never was particularly good at sharing.”

Crow found himself spinning the ring about his finger again, and nearly broke down at the memories that assaulted him. He shuddered, and swallowed. “Nah. He had a generous side, somewhere in there. Stars help me, but he did.”

Five’s brother’s expression was shrewd, and thoughtful. “You knew him in a way he never shared with family. Which is to say, you knew him at all in his adult life. It feels too late for any good to come of this, but… would you care to let me know my late brother a little better?”

Crow wasn’t sure he had it in him to see another dawn. But a conversation, perhaps, he could manage. He could make sure somebody remembered Thirteen, could talk about the man who’d brought out the best parts of the monstrous Watcher. “Offer me a few drinks and promise to tell me about Fi- about the brother you knew first, and you got a deal.”

—

Once she’d abandoned physical life, he had been easy to find. Her soul sung through the Force, and wove itself through all that had been lost, and he was there, she knew it, through every glittering thread that her self had become.

A tiny whisper of a soul, scattered and lost, she drew it in and pulled it together as part of her, and as a tiny, independent thought clawed its way free she realised, she realised that he had never been lost, he would never be gone, not in the way that she’d feared for so long.

Did you get out? Did you get away, are you free…?

The whisper tugged at her, the hope that he’d clung to, the one thing at the forefront of his mind when his soul had been loosed from his body. And there was nothing of him beyond that. These whispers of Blakk knew nothing of the mountains, of Manaan, of the forested world that had eventually taken her. But they knew the meadow, and the market, and the rainbow dew in the early morning light. The wolf wound around the fox, and in the Force they were one.

As they were with every other life that had shaped them and been shaped by them.

None of them could ever be the beings they were without each of the others. For good or ill.

Yes, my fox. I’m free.

#terrible soul crushing VENGEANCE #ugh #werewolf au #an au for the au #the Worst Ending #making each other cry that's what rp is all about right??#Right?????#wolf and fox #and a crow and a bat and a worst worst boy

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