#I didn't take long to find myself crying in the process

[zer0-devoox]

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The most beautiful angel of chaos 𓆩𓆪

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ace Trappola - Suitor Suit Vignette

"I love..."

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Crowley: Dearie me… Today was indeed an ordeal.

Crowley: It seems the ghosts have all disappeared, leaving our cafeteria still decorated for a wedding ceremony.

Crowley: How dare they take no responsibility for what happened.

Crowley: We won't be able to open for meals tomorrow if it stays like this.

Crowley: So, young freshmen. I'll leave it to you to clear up this "wedding venue" before heading back to your dormitories, then.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Ehhhh～～～!?

Ace: When you say freshmen… That doesn't include me 'n Epel in all our tuxedo glory, right?

Crowley: No, I mean all freshmen. I pride myself as an educator who treats all my students the same!

Epel: Oh, come on…

Ace: Give us a break, already. I did so much today, I'm wiped out.

Crowley: I will admit that you played an integral part in today's procession… But that is that, and this is this.

Crowley: I do hope you lively youngsters will be quick about it!

Grim: Hey, Yuu. Stop spacing out! We're makin' a run for it before the Headmage notices us.

Crowley: Ah, of course, that includes [Yuu]-kun and Grim-kun, too.

Grim: Myaaaah!!

Epel: Urgh. I've thrown away so many of these ribbon off the walls, and there's still more to go.

Grim: Whenever I try pullin' the lace off, it keeps getting' caught on my claws!

Ace: This chair's real sturdy. Where'd they even find… Wait, it's a tombstone! [shudders]

1. We're not anywhere close to getting finished. 2. I wanna go home already.

Ortho: Hey everyone, I'm here to help too, so let's put our all into it!

Ace: …Arrrgh, come on! I did so much to help out, too!

Ace: How much trouble do ghosts gotta put us through before they're satisfied, anyway?

Ace: 500 years? Crazy they've been obsessing over something like "love" for that long.

Ace: I'm pretty pissed at those ghost soldiers, sure… But I don't understand what that princess was thinking at all.

Ace: I'd've had a lot less trouble if she'd just given up on the whole marriage thing and lived a happy afterlife instead…

Epel: …

Epel: Ace-kun… Has there ever been someone you liked?

Ace: Huh!? Why're you asking me that all of a sudden?

Epel: Just thought it was strange… You saying she was "obsessive" or that you "don't understand" her.

Epel: 'Cause you kinda give off this vibe that you'd know a bit more about relationships.

Ace: What, you saying I'm a playboy or something?

Epel: N-No, I'm not saying that.

Grim: You shouldn't tease Ace like that, askin' about his love life. No way he'd have any idea about that sorta stuff.

Grim: There's no way a jerk like him would ever have any luck.

Ace: Hey, can you try not being jealous of me for one sec?

Ace: Back in middle school, even I had a girlfriend I'd take to amusement parks or movie theaters or whatever.

Grim: Wh-What!? You're soundin' pretty cocky for someone like you, Ace!

Ortho: Amusement parks and movies, hm. My manual says that regardless of the generation, those are pretty popular date spots!

Epel: Nice… all this talkin' about datin' and such's makin' me feel like we're really at our peak high school guy talk stage!

Epel: So? What happened?

Ace: Well…

Ace: You know girls, they're so scared of roller coasters, so all we'd ride was the merry-go-round or the ferris wheel.

Ace: She'd say everything was "Cute!" and take a ton of Magicam pictures, but I didn't really see what was so exciting about those rides.

Ace: Plus, whenever we went to see a movie, she never wanted to watch action or horror movies, just romance and cute animal movies…

Ace: It was just borin' with her, so we just slowly stopped messaging each other.

Epel: Oh, I see. Doesn't that seem a little…disappointing?

Ace: Yeah, but the worst was still to come. After I started slowly distancing myself, whaddya think happened next?

Ace: …One day, this group of girls I'd never met in my life started shouting at me…

Ace: "Why didn't you ever call her?" "How could you!" "She's been crying non-stop!" "You brute!"

Ace: …And they went on and on scolding me! What's with that, some kind of solidarity between girls or whatever?

Ace: That's when I realized. Love is just a pain to deal with!

Ace: I have way more fun just hangin' with the guys.

Grim: Man, you're just a kid, after all.

Ace: Don't wanna hear that from you, of all people.

Ace: …But, anyway!

Ace: I think it's not me we gotta worry about, but those guys over there.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Hm?

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Ace: I think it's not me we gotta worry about, but those guys over there.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Hm?

Deuce: Hey, Ace. What have you guys been chatting away about over there?

Jack: Urgh… It's already past midnight and I don't think I can stay awake any longer. Let's hurry and finish cleaning up already.

Ace: You guys are tryin' to act all cool, but who was it that was just rolling around on the floor all day today?

Ace: Look at 'em, Grim. You should be saying that these dunderheads who couldn't even succeed in their mission are more like kids.

Grim: Hm, I guess…?

Grim: Deuce did look pretty lame when he froze up tryin' to talk to that bride.

Ace: Riiiight～?! I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe at all.

Deuce: Wha… I couldn't help it! I'm not used to talking to girls.

Deuce: I clam up when I start thinking that I might say something stupid and callous…

Ace: Your middle school was co-ed, wasn't it? Weren't you popular enough?

Ace: I always thought that guys with that "tough guy" image always had girls falling at their feet.

Deuce: Falling at my feet?

Deuce: …Nah, no one ever talked to me.

Deuce: Every girl other than my mom ―or rather, every guy, too― would run away the moment we made eye contact.

Ace: Ah, I see… So you were just so scary no one wanted to come close…

Ace: Jack got rejected pretty quick too, so I guess guys who just look scary from the get-go just can't get girls, huh.

Jack: That's all useless talk. I don't really care if people like me.

Ace: Oho? What, you a sore loser or something?

Jack: No. Wolf beastmen like myself are destined to find the one person to care about forever.

Jack: Both my parents and my grandparents are the same… From the moment they wake up to the moment they go to sleep, they're always together. Even when taking a walk or having meals.

Jack: When the time comes that I fall in love, I plan on being with them for the rest of my life.

Jack: That's why I don't care if a bunch of folks like me.

Ace: Th... That's waaaaay too deep!

Ace: Dude, you're still a student, and you're talking about "the rest of my life"… You're taking this "love" stuff way too seriously!

Deuce: Also, can you really think about marriage before you've even got a career plan set up?

Grim: What a pain! I definitely don't wanna ever date Jack.

Jack: Well, I'm not asking you to!

Ace: Then, I guess it's more guys like Epel that'd get the most attention.

Ace: Instead of being scary looking, he's a pretty boy with potential!

Epel: Eh, m-me!?

Ace: Well, you were askin' about others, so you should cough up a story too. Was there anyone back home you had a crush on?

Epel: Uh…

Ace: Come on～ Don't keep it a secret～ We're tux buddies, ain't we?

Deuce: That's a rude way to drag him in. Why're you so hung up on hearing about other people's love lives?

Jack: I bet he's hoping that other people'll do his share of the clean up while he keeps the conversation going.

Deuce: Makes sense. That's a pretty Ace-like move.

Ace: You guys are totally interested in hearing too!

Jack/Deuce: Well…

Ace: You ever get confessed to? Was there someone you liked? Or even dated someone!?

Epel: …

Jack/Deuce/Ace: …!

Epel: …Hate to break it to you guys when you're all looking at me so intently…

Epel: But there's not many people in my hometown. And even then, most of the people there either way older or way younger than me.

Epel: I never really got to spend time with people my age once I came here to Night Raven College…

Epel: All I did was help out on my family's farm… So I don't really have any exciting story…

Ace: Dang, so you don't have any fun stories too, huh.

Epel: Sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations.

Ortho: If I were to compare against prior data gathered of boys of similar age, it seems like everyone here is drastically lacking when it comes to living your youthful years.

Ace: Shut it!

Sebek: Hey! Humans! You've all stalled in your work.

Sebek: IF YOU'VE GOT TIME TO CHIT-CHAT, STACK THE CHAIRS!

Ace: Here he comes, the guy who's got the worst chance among us.

Jack: Yeah, I was pretty disappointed too.

Sebek: Hmph. All of you are just going back and forth about falling in love and whatnot.

Sebek: We are students. If you have time for that sort of ridiculous leisure, you should focus on your studies instead!

Grim: Don't be talkin' down to us! You were one of the first to get rejected!

Sebek: I was not rejected! I rejected her!

Sebek: I am busy training every single day to be a capable guard for Malleus-sama. I have no time for frivolities like "love."

Ace: You say that, but what if someone that was really your type shows up one day?

Ace: You plannin' on droning on and on about Malleus-senpai to that person, too?

Sebek: I fully know what to do. Lilia-sama has explained to me what I should do if I were to meet my soulmate.

Sebek: …FIRST I WOULD CRAFT FOR THEM A WELL-THOUGHT OUT CORRESPONDENCE!

Ace: Correspondence!!?? You mean, write a letter!?

Ace: That's like something our grandparents would do!

Deuce: It'd be better if you sent a message on Magicam or email instead.

Sebek: Why is that? Lilia-sama would say that "Fountain pens and stationary are a lover's weapon."

Sebek: One should lay out their thoughts in the missive, and every third letter, also include a picture with a smile. This should continue until the 25th full moon of the courtship.

Sebek: Once enough correspondence has been exchanged…

Sebek: We are to sit on a bench together in Briar Valley Central Park, leaving enough space for one between us!

Epel: Yeah, you're definitely being led on…

Sebek: WHAT!!?? HOW DARE A LOWLY HUMAN DOUBT LILIA-SAMA LIKE SO!!??

Ace: Yeah, yeah. Pipe down already. It'll go on and on if we don't nip it in the bud here, so let's call it quits here!

Ace: [sigh]… But maybe Sebek has a bit of a point.

Jack: What, you gonna write some letters too?

Ace: Oh yeah, yeah, I'd totally whip out the white stationary and write in cursive "I love"… Not!!

Ace: Even for this, me and Epel needed Riddle-ryōchō and Rook-senpai's help, right?

Epel: …Yeah. If we didn't have those two, I don't think we would've been able to get as far as we did.

Ace: You know, it came to me when I saw my Housewarden taking on all those ghosts.

Ace: "My Housewarden's pretty cool."

Ace: I wanna get better at using magic, man.

Ace: I can't even compare against my Housewarden or other upperclassmen right now, but...

Ace: But someday, I'll totally show off what all I can do, and be all, "Check me out now!"

Ace: I totally get a jolt through my body imagining the shock on their faces when I finally show my awesome skills, see?

Ace: And in order to get to that point… I guess I need to focus up a bit more in my studies before thinking anything about love.

Epel: …Yeah. You're right. I think so too!

Sebek: Hmph. See, you do get it.

Deuce: Yeah, we need to hunker down with our studies.

Jack: When Deuce with all his failing marks says that, it just feels even more important to think about.

Sebek/Epel/Ace: Yeah.

Deuce: Why are you all in step when it comes to things like this!?

Ace: …Putting that all aside, we just really got carried away in conversation, huh. We ain't nowhere near done putting the cafeteria back in order!

Ace: Not only did we have to deal with all those ghosts, but now we gotta be held after to do more work…

Ace: We're so lame. Nothing good came out of today at all.

Ortho: That's not true!

Ace: Eh?

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Ortho: I was watching the video with the Headmage when you barged into the wedding ceremony, and…

Ortho: It felt like I was watching a movie, seeing you burst in with your flower bouquet, shouting out "Wait a sec!"

Ortho: You were so passionately coming to my brother's rescue…

Ortho: It was suuuuuuuuuuuper cool!

Ace: Huh? I wasn't passionate anything.

Ace: That was because I had just finished running away from the ghosts… or more like I got caught up in the flow.

Ortho: Nah. I saw just how serious you looked when you rushed into the room.

Ortho: You totally meant every word you said to the bride and her retainers, didn't you?

Grim: There ain't no way Ace'd say anything that genuine.

Grim: All he did was just ramble on about stuff without putting in any thought, I bet.

Ace: Y-Yeah, yeah! You got it right on the money, Grim.

Ortho: Judging from what I gleaned from my infrared sensor, with his elevated body temperature, voice pitch and pupil dilation…

Ortho: All the preceding data brings us to the conclusion that Ace was being genuine.

Ortho: …There's no need for you to hide it. You're really shy, huh!

Deuce: Which means…

Sebek: All he said to the ghost bride about the "perfect marriage partner"…

Jack: Was Ace's actual genuine thoughts!?

Ortho: Yup. There's no doubt.

Ortho: It's wonderful that you have a real good image of your ideal partner.

Ace: Hah!? No way! Absolutely no way!

Ace: I just said whatever I thought the ghosts would swallow!

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Ohooo～～??

Grim: Protesting too much, don'tcha think?

Ortho: Even the Headmage said, "I'm growing fonder of Trappola-kun by the second!"

Ortho: Based on prior literature, statistically speaking, if you were to confess to someone with the same passion as you did today…

Ortho: You're sure to have no trouble getting someone to fall in love with you!

Ace: There ain't no passion. That wasn't a confession!

Ace: …And all you stop your stupid grinning!

Epel: Wow, I didn't realize how much you put into it…

Epel: I wish I could've seen you looking so cool, Ace-kun.

Ortho: Leave it to me! I still have the recording. I'll send you the video later.

Ace: STOP WITH THE RECORDING!

Deuce: Oh, nice thinking. We should all watch it later once we're done clearing everything away. You guys good with doing it at Ramshackle?

Jack: Running a play-by-play could be fun. I'm feeling more awake now.

Sebek: I shall give my own evaluation of it as well!

Sebek: You said I was the guy today with the worst chance among all of us. I'll make sure to thoroughly lambast you as penance.

Ace: DON'T BE TRYING TO MAKE INTO A VIEWING PARTY!

1. No need to be shy. 2. We just want to pay tribute to your gallant speech.

Ortho: Yeah～!

Ortho: That's why you, Ace Trappola-san, who already has thought of what his ideal partner would be…

Ortho: Is the best suited suitor of all!

Ace: …Aaaaah, come on! I've already told you… I wasn't serious at all!

Grim: Woah. Ace's turned completely red even to the tips of his ears!

Deuce: Haha, you're right. This isn't something we get to ever see.

Jack: Hey, Ortho. Make sure you capture this moment too.

Grim: You too, [Yuu], snap a shot on the ghost camera!

Ace: Why's everyone gotta mess with me like this…?

Ace: Just drop it already, guys～～!

Requested by Anonymous.

[alexa-fika]

Hey, nice to talk to you and if you see this its probably a mircle. Female,child!reader.

Can you do younger ASL like when Ace was 10 and luffy was 6. Its start when they meet reader when luffy hat accidentally flew away and when young!ASL was looking for it they meet a girl about 9 years old. She was picking flowers sitting in the grass with luffy's strawhat on her head because she found it and put it on her head. And they let her be there sister but had to piss off dadan first to do so with reader randomly grabbing a bow of chocolates from her back for dadan. (Extra) if you can do this I am literally praying if you do this can you let reader wear a hijab and abya but not closely fancy.

Trio Turned Quartet (ASL x f!child reader)

a/n You problably thought I din't see it since it's been so long but here we are, thank you @slaypanda for beta reading and making sure the content was respectful to the use of the garments and some small mannerisms. This is a COOK yall, I had fun writing this one

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Beta read by @/slaypanda

"Stop crying already!" Ace finally snaps, tired of the ongoing crying of his youngest brother

"B-But that was Shank's hat; he trusted me to keep it," he cried.

"We'll find the damn hat now. Stop crying!"

"Ha. Don't worry, Luffy. There is not a lot of wind today, so I'm sure it couldn't have gone too far," Sabo sighs. 

"O-Okay"

"It should be after to this hill; the wind couldn't have carried much farther with all the mountains here," Sabo mentioned, leading the other two over said mountain only to pause at the top.

"Sabo? What's wrong? Are you already tired?" Ace asked, rolling his eyes as he walked past him, only to stop as he spotted what made his brother pause in the first place

"Hey! He stole my hat," Luffy roared as he started barreling toward the child, much to the frustration of the other two.

Idiot

"Hey! You! Give me back my hat!" 

Dokucha looked up at the shouts of the smaller boy, staring at him owlishly, a small arrangement of flowers between her fingers.

"Y-You're a girl!" he exclaims, taking a closer look at her.

"And you're a boy?" she answers back, confused at his proclamation, looking as Sabo and Ace catch up to Luffy standing next to him and staring at the girl.

"Ah, I'm sorry. You said this was your hat, right? I found it here; I didn't know someone was looking for it," she said, offering the hat back to the boy.

"Thank you!" He lets out a grin, taking the hat and placing it on his head

"Why are you wearing a cloak?" Ace questions, frowning at her attire, covering the top of her head to the tip of her toes

"Ace!" Sabo hisses

"That's rude!"

"Ah, it's okay, I don't mind," she waves him off with a smile.

"It's not a cloak; it's an abaya," she declared, standing up and giving a twirl to the boys, showing off the garment.

"And this is a hijab," she stated, gesturing towards the cloth covering her hair and neck.

"It's weird. Why do you wear it? Aren't you hot?" Luffy questioned, tilting his head confused, circling the girl, and taking a closer look at the garments

She chuckles

"Don't worry, it is quite comfortable; as for why I wear it for a few reasons, but I guess the the simple answer is to express myself." 

"I don't get it," Luffy mumbled.

"That's because you're an idiot, Luffy," Ace muttered, shaking his head. 

"No, I'm not!" he screamed, turning around to Ace, banging heads with him as the two began bickering. 

"Umm, is this okay?" she asked, glancing nervously at the third boy.

"Ah, don't worry, they do this a lot, don't mind them; my name is Sabo, by the way, the one with the permanent scowl over there is Ace, and that's Luffy."

"I'm Dokucha! It's nice to meet you guys; I didn't know there were any kids my age around here, yokatta." 

The two brawling boys stop Ace in the process of pulling at Luffy's cheeks as the latter pulls at his hair.

"You live around here?" Ace questioned, pushing Luffy off him, ignoring his whines as he did 

"Umm, you could say that"

"It's either yes or no; there's no in-between," he barks.

"Ace!" Sabo scolds

"I'm sorry, Dokucha!"

"It's okay, umm, I am sorry, it is kind of an in-between; I do live here but don't?"  

"Hah?"

"I umm.. I kind of just go around?" she tries. 

"You... don't have a home?" the oldest questioned

"No..."

"Come stay with us!" Luffy shouted, running towards her and gripping her hands 

She pulls her hands away from him, chuckling nervously; she bows apologetically.

"I'm sorry I - I don't feel comfortable with touching." 

"Sorry," Luffy laughed, retracting his hands, his grin unfiltered by the confession. 

"Come stay with us!" he repeated, this time pumping up his arms in excitement.

"Stay with you? W-Will your parents be okay with that?"

"We don't have parents," Ace cut in

"Oh"

"You don't either do you."

She shakes her head, a frown on her face.

Ace sighed, a small pout notable on his face as he looked away from the girl.

"You should stay with us... we live with the mountain bandits nearby."

She takes one look at his flushed face and covers her mouth, a small chuckle escaping her.

"I would love to".

-

"No" 

"Come on, Dadan! Let her stay, let her stay, let her stay!" Luffy whined, swinging himself on Dadan's arms

"Absolutely not!" she shrieked, throwing the boy away from her.

"I will not have another brat to take care of! You snotted brats are already too much!"  

"Come on, you old hag!" snarled Ace

"What did you say, you little brat?"

"Ah umm, excuse me," she tried to cut in. 

"What?!"

"Umm, I brought you these; I just wanted to thank you for your time. I know it was a silly request, but it was worth a try, ma'am," she voiced, handing the previously assembled bouquet of flowers to the mountain thief.

Dadan grabbed the flowers, staring at the small girl agape when she suddenly turned around and stomped her way into the hut.

"This ain't charity, so you better pull your part around here!" she growled, slamming the door.

"Ah, does this mean.."

"Don't mind, Dadan, she tends to be like that; I'm pretty sure she likes you," Sabo reassured her. 

"That was her liking me?" she sweatdrops

"She put up a bigger fight when I came along," he pipes in.

"Shishishi, she only took me because Grandpa wouldn't let her say no," Luffy laughed.

"Same here," muttered Ace

"She actually cares about us but prefers to act tough," Sabo clarifies. 

"Oh, so she's like you, Ace?"

"What did you say?!"

I always second guess myself writing the younger selfs of these characters thinking they are going to be out of character but I think I did it, maybe

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[youunravelme]

it's nice to have a friend

author's note: this is a little all over the place, but i saw a tiktok edit of seven by taylor swfit and then thought to myself, what if i ignore all my wips and wrote childhood friends to lovers with a hint of childhood trauma? and this was born. and if the timeline isn't perfect with reality, oh well. i'm but a human girl. also!! if you have ever experienced or currently experiencing abuse, please know that it was never your fault. you don't deserve to be treated that way.

pairing: mat barzal x reader

summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties

warnings: cursing (as always), mentions of parental abuse and alcholism, tumultuous childhood, drinking, mentions of sex

there was a saying that floated around in your elementary, middle, and high school days, surrounding you like a warm oversized cardigan.

wherever mat went, you were never too far behind.

the saying could also be flipped, the two of you stuck to each other like glue.

mat, despite not being one for fights, had a bad habit of running his mouth whenever you were concerned. in fourth grade, he used newly learned vocabulary words to berate a girl who made fun of your beat up shoes and nearly got detention for it.

and you had a nasty habit of squaring up with anyone who looked at mat wrong, even if they towered over you.

your friendship worked well because of it.

age eight

you could remember summer days swimming in the pool with mat and liana, laughing as you and mat teamed up against his little sister until his mother scolded the two of you when she started crying.

but there was always a darkness that sat in the corners of your memories like fingerprints that had damaged an old photograph.

you didn't have to try to remember your parents' screaming and yelling at each other, just like you didn't have to try to recall the smell of alcohol on your father's breath. it didn't take any effort to remember the way your hands shook when you locked your room at night and climbed out of a second story window to go to mat's.

you could feel the splinters digging into your fingertips as you climbed the trellis up to his window. you could still feel the way your stomach dropped when you slipped and fell halfway up in the pouring rain, nearly breaking your arm in the process. you could still hear nadia come out and usher you inside moments before mat's eight year old feet came pattering down the stairs.

he didn't even give you time to explain, he just wrapped you up in a hug.

it took you that long to understand it was never raining, it was just tears.

the next week, you found yourselves at the park laying on your backs in the grass.

"what would you do if a genie gave you one wish?" mat asked out of the blue.

the summer sun kept you warm as the breeze kept sweeping in and blowing strands of hair into your face.

"get far away from here."

"would you bring me?" mat asked.

you turned your head to look at him only to find him already staring. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you." and you meant every word, spoke them with as much conviction as an eight year old could have.

mat reached out and squeezed your hand in his own.

"what would you wish for?"

he shrugged. "to be bigger."

you furrowed your brow. "why bigger?"

"so i could protect you better."

age nine

at nine, you and mat were playing cards in your room when the front door slammed. it was like you were on autopilot. of all the times that had happened, mat was never home with you. immediately, you were locking your door and shoving things in your backpack, pulling mat towards the window and climbing out as quickly as you could. the two of you ran to your bikes and biked all the way to an empty field where you collapsed in the tall grass and cried.

mat immediately brought you into his arms, hushing you and running his hand down your braids.

"what if--" he started stopped abruptly to clear his throat. "what if you stayed with me and liana and mom and dad? we could get bunk beds and a night light, if you want, and you wouldn't have to lock the door."

you just sobbed harder into his chest and shook your head.

it's not that simple, you wanted to tell him. but i wish it was.

age thirteen

you never moved in with mat, never got to get the bunk beds, but by middle school, your mom moved the two of you out of your old house. it was then that he started packing two lunches, one for you and another for himself.

things hadn't changed much since leaving your dad in that shitty house full of demons. you still spent most of your time at mat's house (your mom was working). still spent your saturdays going to his tournaments and games. you still cheered him on and let him cheat off your homework on sunday nights.

things shifted though, regardless if you wanted them to change or not. time, you found, never gave a shit about your opinion, thoughts, or desires.

because it felt like just yesterday, you were riding your bikes down the street, racing each other back home.

now, you were helping mat draft msn messages to a girl he had a crush on in your biology class. there was an uncomfortable sensation in your stomach that was comparable to the time you got food poisoning, but you couldn't place a reason for it.

you could paint the pink on his cheeks as the girl replied.

and you would've given anything to be the reason for it.

maybe it was silly, a small crush for the sheer convenience of it all. maybe it was the fact that he'd saved you so many times from the darkness that always seemed to follow you. maybe it was because he was a tether for you, pulling you back when you went too far in your head.

so when he laughed at something she said (which wasn't even really funny), you wanted to go back to the times the two of you would cloud gaze in the middle of the day just so you wouldn't have to be home.

age fifteen

you knew mat was a kind person, knew he was handsome and a good hockey player, that was never in question.

you just didn't realize other girls realized it too.

mat always walked in front of you in the hallways because he could make way through the crowds in ways you couldn't. (he grew like a weed over the summer and while you hated how you couldn't reach things when he held them above his head, you appreciated the way crowds moved out of the way for him).

you were used to him being in front, his grip light on your wrist as he tugged you behind him. you weren't used to walking behind his new girlfriend, chloe, who had the honor of walking beside him.

mat used to tell you how much it irritated him that people would take up so much space in the hallway and make it impossible to move around them.

but there you were, an awkward moving triangle of your best friend, his girlfriend, and you trailing pathetically behind.

chloe was cool. she never felt threatened by your friendship with mat, which might've hurt your feelings if you were delusional. you knew you had no chance with mat, so you'd take him in whatever form you could get him.

lately, that looked like spending time with liana in the stands at mat's tournaments. you would both do your homework before dissolving into gossip sessions while you braided her hair.

chloe even showed up for some games, smiling and cheering as he played. at one game, he scored and came up and tapped the glass in front of you, pointing at you and smiling.

they broke up two weeks later.

age sixteen

you openly cried when mat left for seattle. you were used to times when mat had hockey camps and would be gone for two weeks, a month at a time. but he would be gone indefinitely now.

and leading up to the day he was leaving, you thought it would be harder on you, considering mat hadn't shown anything but excitement. but when it came time for him to leave, he wouldn't let you go.

both of your moms had to pry you apart with promises that he would call and text as soon as he got to seattle.

and he did.

he hadn't even gotten into his new home when he was facetiming you.

you did your best to smile as he showed you around his new place, but your eyes were watering still. he was indefinitely two and a half hours away from you.

"you okay?" he asked when you stopped responding.

you gave him your best smile, but knew he wouldn't buy it. "just miss you is all."

he nodded, eyes going blank for a second before you saw water appear in them. mat wasn't as emotional as you were, and he for sure wasn't as teary eyed as he used to be when you still lived with your dad, but his eyes were watering all the same. "let's just treat it like summer camp," he said. "i'll be back before you know it, and if you need something, you can always call me."

you had no intentions of calling him with your problems, but then your dad showed up at your house screaming and beating the door and calling for your mother while she was at work. the doors were locked, he had no way in, and the police were on the way, but your hands were still shaking.

you couldn't run to his house to hug him anymore.

so you called him sobbing.

he picked up on the second ring.

he was lounging in bed, playing call of duty or something like it. "hey--" he cut himself off and paused his game, jumping out of bed. "what's wrong?"

"my dad," you sobbed.

mat was back in coquitlam in three hours, holding you tight to his chest and rocking you back and forth. you were openly weeping into his shirt, clinging to him. you weren't gonna let him go, and mat wasn't willing to give you up either.

you and your mom spent the night at the barzal's, with her taking the guest room while nadia brought a twin mattress into mat's room under the pretense that you would sleep on it.

you didn't.

everyone knew that you got into mat's queen sized bed and clung to him all night long.

just like everyone pretended that mat wouldn't have to leave in two days to go back to seattle.

just like you pretended like you wouldn't absolutely shatter on impact the second he left your sight.

age nineteen

when mat was drafted to the islanders, you stopped breathing. sure, it was dramatic, but you only moved into vancouver for school.

mat was moving across the fucking continent.

but he came back to seattle, and for a moment, the world was right again.

until he went to new york full time.

and the full weight of his absence hit you like a damn eighteen wheeler.

you'd watch him on the tv, when you used to watch him live in much smaller stands. you used to use puff paint to make t-shirts with his name on it, now they were selling his jersey in the arena he played in.

he didn't pick up the phone as much as he used to. he would respond to your texts days later until you stopped texting him altogether.

you should've seen it coming, especially when you saw him hanging out with instagram models and going out to bars. were you really expecting him to sit at home and wait for you to call him with a panic attack?

you had to get a grip.

so you did.

you threw yourself into your studies, pretending you didn't know his game schedule or stats. and when a cute boy named thomas came along and took interest, you allowed him to get to know you better.

you told him you grew up in coquitlam, that you were an only child, and your favorite school subject growing up was english.

(you never told him that your favorite color was the shade of mat's eyes, that you haven't spoken to your dad since the night your mom left him, or that every night, you fall asleep to career highlights of the best friend you haven't spoken to in months).

you learned he was a business major, something that should've been a red flag, but you were so focused on proving to yourself that you could be loved, that you overlooked it.

you went on dates, had sex, made plans for the future, met each other's families.

but he never met the barzals, despite the fact that you could drive to their house blindfolded.

no, they felt like a precious secret. the world could have number 13, they could have the calder memorial trophy winner, but you would not allow them to have the little sister whose hair you braided, the mother who brought you inside after you wrecked her trellis, the father who covered your scraped knees with bandaids and neosporin when your biological one was drunk at 2pm.

you might have lost mat to the awful curse called distance, but you would not lose his family.

you couldn't afford to lose them too.

now thomas, you lost a month after you turned twenty when you found him balls deep in your freshman roommate.

you went back to your apartment and cried, because it hurt, but mainly because you realized how alone you were. you had no one to call other than your mom or liana. but liana didn't even know about thomas, and your mom was dating a new guy now.

your thumb hovered over mat's contact for five minutes before you locked your phone and just went to bed.

age twenty-three

you were single for a whole year before you met dawson. his brown eyes and salt and pepper hair captivated you.

you were hooked, despite the seven year age gap.

he gave you the number to a good psychologist to help you work through your past and was willing to listen to you talk about it or sit in silence when your therapy session was emotionally exhausting.

he remembered your favorite flowers and brought a bouquet of them to your college graduation and kissed you in front of your mom and the barzals (minus mat, but that was a given at that point).

and on your twenty-third birthday, he proposed.

you said yes while actively trying to forget the dreams you and mat had when you were six.

you were building a fort in his bedroom with thumbtacks and blankets and sheets you'd stolen from around his house. when the project was complete, the two of you found yourselves laying in it, staring up at the blanket canopy shoddily held up by thumbtacks pushed into the wall.

"do you wanna get married?" mat had asked randomly.

"only if i get to marry you," you replied.

mat smiled a toothy grin, it was the only time you remembered him having imperfect teeth, given that he'd just lost his two front teeth. "i thought the same thing!"

and it was the most honest you had ever been. though, that wasn't a strange concept, most people were the most honest when they were either children or drunk. and considering you stayed far away from alcohol (guided by the anxiety in your stomach and the advice of your therapist), your childhood memories held the most truth.

despite not having seen him in years, you still thought of him often. you tried to see if you could remember the sound of his laugh without looking up an interview. you tried to recall the way his hair felt through your fingers.

but you couldn't.

it was crazy how much he meant to you as a child, how you still remembered the order in which he ate his breakfast, but you hadn't spoken to him in years.

you found yourself sobbing at the kitchen table one night as you poured over who to invite to the wedding. liana was a bridesmaid, mike and nadia had to be invited.

but what about mat?

you felt sick to your stomach at not inviting him. when you were in high school, when you'd gotten a grip on reality, you believed he'd walk you down the aisle in lieu of your piece of shit father.

but you hadn't spoken to him in so long.

though you couldn't imagine which would suck worse, not inviting him, or mat rejecting the invitation.

that was how dawson found you, sobbing over photos from your childhood that you wouldn't let him see. and when you tried to talk to him about it, he suggested talking to your therapist.

he broke off the engagement two weeks later. he said he didn't feel "the spark" anymore.

age twenty-four

you'd been out of college for two years now and all you had to show for it was debt and a stupid piece of paper. you were working in a coffee shop ten minutes from your mom's house and wishing you could've gotten out of coquitlam like mat did.

maybe this was your cursed existence, going to the grocery store wondering if you were going to ever run into your father again.

you'd just gotten off your shift at the coffee shop when you stopped by your local grocery store to pick some things up for dinner. it was supposed to be a normal day, but you turned the corner out of an aisle and damn near ran into someone.

"sorry, my bad--"

you looked up and suddenly the earth stopped in its rotation. you hadn't seen in him years but you'd know him blind.

his hands were around your elbows, keeping you upright. his touch almost burned you. it was an uncomfortable feeling, like putting on jeans you loved and realizing they don't fit anymore.

you pulled away, ducked your head, and started walking the opposite direction without another word.

but you should've known he would follow you, like a moth to a flame. or maybe that wasn't the right analogy, you were used to being the bug while mat was the light of your life.

but he followed you like there was a string attached to your wrists and he wasn't used to you pulling in an opposite direction.

he managed to catch up to you in the self care aisle right in front of the menstrual products. any other man you'd known would've shied away from standing in front of the tampons and pads as you deliberated which products to get, but mat's eyes wouldn't even leave your face.

you should've known he was going to come back eventually. you'd avoided seeing him in the offseason pretty well considering you were off doing internships and working out of town in the summer.

but now you were stuck in a dead end job with no passion for anything anymore, feeling more alone than you had ever felt before.

and because nature or god or the universe hated you, naturally, that was when mat showed back up.

when you had nothing to show for the years you didn't speak.

you could see the wheels turning in mat's head as he tried to think of something to say. it was an interesting turn of events that simultaneously sent an ache straight through your heart. when you were kids, he never hesitated to say exactly what was on his mind. now, he was deliberating.

"you wanna come over for dinner?" he asked. "mom's making tomato soup and grilled cheese."

you wished you could've denied him, it would've been smarter in the long run. mathew michael paul barzal could get you to do anything, and you hated that even after all those years, he still could.

you found yourself sitting at his old kitchen table surrounded by his family, dipping your grilled cheese into the soup like you were six years old again.

except the difference now was you were laughing with liana, sitting next to liana, instead of mat.

you'd occasionally meet his eyes from across the table, but it wasn't the same.

when you were kids, you sat next to each other at every opportunity. when you were kids, mat pretended to steal food off your plate. when you were kids, you knew everything about each other.

but you were adults now. and he was effectively a stranger you knew too much about.

after dinner, everyone scattered. you tried to leave, but mat caught up with you.

"what're you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"working," you replied.

he nodded and looked around. "can i see you?"

you wanted so badly to say no, that you were busy, but as much as you wanted to pretend that he didn't, mat knew you better than anyone else, even if he had been absent for five years.

you ended up going for a walk in the park the next day, deciding that getting dinner wasn't worth the headache of mat getting recognized.

his hands were shoved in his pockets with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. if you were brave enough to look over, you could still see his eyes taking glances at you.

"how's your mom?" mat asked, immediately jumping into topics you'd planned on ignoring.

you shrugged. "fine."

he nodded and scuffed his feet along the sidewalk. "how have you been?"

"fine." you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. you didn't mean to be cold, you meant it even less when you looked over and saw mat desperate for connection with you again.

in the end, you could never really deny him anything he wanted.

"life sucks right now," you admitted. "feel like i've wasted my life away here."

mat nodded along. "didn't you say your genie wish would be to leave?"

"i think my words were to 'get far away from here.'"

"you know," he started. "new york is far from here."

you couldn't help yourself. you looked up at him and saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "are you being serious?"

he nodded. "as a heart attack."

could this be the moment? the moment your life suddenly comes back into color? things haven't felt right since mat left for new york, and maybe moving, being with him all the time, would fix whatever existential crisis you were currently having.

the two of you were packing up your childhood room a month later .

you were on a flight to new york city two days after that.

mat was bouncing on his toes when he picked you up from the airport, having come home a few days early to get his apartment set up.

"you have to meet tito," he said as soon as the both of you got in his car. "you'll get along just fine. my childhood best friend meeting my other best friend? things couldn't be more perfect!"

you smiled though you felt like dying inside. no wonder you two lost touch, you were too ashamed to message him and he was too busy befriending his entire hockey team.

the apartment itself was large. larger than you could've ever afforded, even in coquitlam. mat brought your bags to your room and gently placed them on the floor.

"do you need any help unpacking?" he asked.

maybe a bitter part of you wanted to say no, but you'd waited for this moment for years. you nodded and mat's face lit up like a christmas tree.

while he was putting your clothes away in the dresser, he told you about his team, about his career, and all that you missed. he tried to ask about your life, but you kept up the story that nothing much had happened to you. and for the most part, you weren't lying.

you hadn't spoken to your dad, you hadn't dated anyone seriously in the last year (you conveniently left out the failed engagement. you just got into town, and couldn't afford a plane ticket to fly back to coquitlam just to bail mat out of jail).

but mat was more than content to listen to your work stories from when you were working at the coffee shop. he asked questions along the way, and momentarily, it felt like everything was headed back to normal.

you shooed him out of the room so you could shower. it was kinda incredible how a nice apartment meant that his shower was better than any other one you'd ever had growing up. when you stepped out into the nicely updated bathroom and changed into some gym shorts and a t-shirt, you felt the full weight of your insecurities hit you all at once.

your mat lived down the road from you. he had a twin bed until he was fifteen when his mom could no longer ignore the way his ankles hung off the end. he had posters of sidney crosby hanging up on the walls of his bedroom.

but this mat had expensive bathrooms and egyptian cotton sheets. you didn't get to see it yet, but you were willing to bet he had state of the art kitchen appliances that he didn't fully understand how to use outside of making eggs.

you were fully ready to walk into the living room, where you heard mat clicking through what must've been streaming services (because he could afford all of them), and tell him moving here was a mistake. too much had changed, he didn't know you anymore.

but you walked out and saw blankets and sheets strung up, pinned to the walls with pillows on the floor.

almost on cue, mat's head popped out from the makeshift fort, a bright smile on his face. "i don't have bunk beds, but i thought this would be a nice alternative."

you could've cried. you almost did.

but you sat down on a pillow and watched a movie with him instead.

two months later

mat had introduced you to anthony the second week you lived in new york. anders and matt you met the next week. the rest of the team you met over the course of the two months you'd lived with mat so far. they were all nice, and you could see why mat was so enthusiastic about his job, his passion for the sport aside.

you met his "not-girlfriend" as tito called her the day before. ashley was nice enough, but clearly not in the same tax bracket as you, who had recently gotten a job working at an indie bookstore while you worked on grad school applications.

you pretended to be too busy to notice the ache in your chest when he held her hand, remembering chloe and the nasty sensation internally of insecurity bubble up. you weren't dumb enough to not know you were jealous, insecurity was a closer friend than mat was, you'd known her longer.

and if comparison was a sport, you'd be making more money than he was at this rate.

because if it wasn't the way ashley laughed, it was her smile, or her stomach, or the gap between her thighs.

or the fact that mat looked at her with something more than a savior complex.

you stupidly agreed to go out to a bar with him, ashley, and a few islanders that night. it was dumb, you knew that going in, but you were finally with mat again, why wouldn't you spend every free moment with him?

it turned out to be a mistake.

you were left sipping a diet coke by your lonesome while he was dancing with ashley. you knew you shouldn't have done it, it was a bad idea, but you found yourself at the bar asking for a shot of literally anything the bartender would give you.

but anthony slid into the seat next to you a beat later and fixed you with a knowing look. "where's your diet coke?" he asked.

your mouth dried up when the shot was placed in front of you. your heart was pounding and for a moment, it felt like you could've thrown up.

when you didn't respond, anthony nodded and stood up. "wanna go take a breather?" and he sounded so genuine that your eyes immediately welled up with tears as you nodded.

the two of you walked outside and stood in the cool air, letting the wind hit your wet cheeks.

you looked out onto the street while anthony texted on his phone. "do you want to go home?" he asked as soon as he slipped his cellphone back into his pocket.

you shrugged. "i don't know what i want."

that was a lie. you wanted to go back to a time where mat was just your best friend, before he was number 13 for the islanders, before he won the calder memorial trophy. you wanted your best friend, the one who raced you down the neighborhood streets on bikes, who drove three hours to see you when you had a panic attack.

you wanted a childhood that wasn't tainted with the darkness of your father's mistakes. you wanted to be able to go into a room and not immediately check if you could lock the door. you wanted to be able to fall asleep in a dark room without being deathly afraid.

mat was outside a second later, huffing and puffing like he'd just run a mile. his gaze was fixed on you almost immediately, while he ignored the way ashley hung off of him. "what's wrong?" he asked. he even went as far as to pry ashley off of his body so he could frame your face in his large hands.

in the corner of you eye, you saw anthony usher ashley back inside while you and mat had a staring contest. "what happened?"

you shook your head and tried to speak, but more tears spilled out. mat nodded and pursed his lips before grabbing your hand and walking you home.

he didn't say anything else until the front door shut behind you. you had no intentions of staying in the common area, you just wanted to curl up in bed and cry yourself to sleep out of shame and pity.

"what were you doing at the bar?" mat asked before you could go anywhere. "you still had diet coke in your glass."

your throat seized up at feeling caught, but you stood your ground.

"i didn't think you drank," he continued. "mainly because--"

"because my dad's an abusive alcholic? yeah, you don't need to tell me that, mat, i already know."

"so if you know that, why did tito see you order a shot from the bartender?"

you threw your hands up in the air and shrugged. "i don't know, mathew. why do you invite me to bars when you know i don't drink?" he didn't have an answer. "you don't get to shame me for considering having a drink when a bar is the only place i get to hang out with you during the season!"

"that's not--" but he cut himself off. "what're you talking about?"

"i hardly see you! why did i move across the continent if i have to go to a scary place just to spend time with you?"

"i--"

"i mean it's not fair, you left and now i have to pay the consequences of it--"

"i'm sorry, what?"

"you left--"

"i heard you. did you forget the part where you stopped contacting me?" you rolled your eyes to keep yourself from crying even more. "uh uh, don't do that. don't blame me without taking accountability for this friendship ending."

you blinked.

but mat wasn't done. "because i always called you back when i missed your calls. you were the one who stopped texting me."

"you were too busy!"

"i'm in the nhl! did you expect me to just be laying around my apartment all day? i have practices and meetings and games at weird times, but i always made sure to get back to you."

you said nothing, the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you kept them in. the verbal lashing from mat was enough, you didn't need to further embarrass yourself by crying too.

he kept going, yelling and waving his hands around, occasionally pacing and dragging his fingers through his unruly hair.

but you zoned out.

you could hear glass bottles rattling as your father came up the stairs. you sat on your bed, hoping to god he'd just keep walking. mat was out of town for a tournament, and you were grounded.

your dad stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at you. your heart was racing in your chest and you wanted nothing more than to text mat, but your mom had your phone. "what're you lookin' at?" he slurred.

it was only 1pm.

and your mom was still at work.

but he apparently didn't feel like bothering you because he turned into his bedroom and shut the door.

you could feel the air release from your lungs before you went back to reading your book.

but the peace never lasted long. thirty minutes later you could hear him yelling and screaming obscenities before he opened his door. you launched yourself out of bed and slammed your own door shut, quickly locking it with an efficiency you'd learned at a young age. the door handle rattled and you flinched backwards, nearly tripping over clothes on the floor.

but you weren't a stranger to this situation.

you opened the window and climbed out.

but he was ready for you this time because he was at the front door screaming at you as you rode away on your bike.

you didn't stop pedaling until you got to the park where you collapsed on the grass and cried.

something in your face must've changed, because mat stopped yelling and looked at you, really looked at you.

"hey," he said, voice much quieter than before. "where'd you go?"

you shook your head, tears falling down your face uncontrollably.

"don't do that," he said. "don't shut me out." mat took a step closer to you, but you immediately stepped backwards. he breathed your name, but something in his eyes shifted, like he could read your mind. "i'm not him," he whispered. "i'm not your dad, i'm not going to hurt you. you know me, you know i wouldn't do that."

"you left," was all you could say.

mat nodded. "i did, but i didn't leave you, okay? i would never leave you." he closed the distance between you and held your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the constant flow of water from the corners of your eyes.

"but--"

he shook his head. "no, you mean too much to me to leave you, okay? you're my best friend. if you had called me and needed me? i would've been there as soon as i could."

"you would've been too busy--"

he pulled back, a bit bewildered. "when have i ever been too busy for you?"

you held your tongue, knowing that it wasn't him per se.

"what is it?" he asked, his eyes searching your own. "what aren't you telling me?"

so you told him about how you hadn't talked to your dad, and even though you were thousands of miles away, you were still scared he'd find you and ruin your life even more. you told him about thomas, about how you thought he could be the thing that fixed you, but he cheated on you.

you told him about dawson, who was older and more mature. you told mat how dawson got you going to therapy which you thought was a good sign, until you realized he never actually wanted to talk about your bad days. he proposed, you said yes, and then he broke off the engagement when he saw you sobbing over invitations.

your eyes were too blurry to see the way mat's jaw clenched, but you could feel him pull his hands away.before you could even stop yourself, you stretched out for him, but he was just out of reach.

"mat, what," you weeped. "what's wrong?"

"you were engaged?" he mumbled. "you were engaged and didn't tell me?" you expected him to look mad, but the only thing reflected in those deep brown eyes was hurt.

"that's why he broke up with me, i was crying over childhood photos while trying to figure out if i should invite you even when we hadn't talked in years." you shrugged pathetically and gave mat a watery smile. "guess he thought it was too immature of me."

mat's hands were clenching and unclenching by his side, like he couldn't decide what he wanted to do with them.

"please don't hate me," you whispered. "i don't think i could handle it if you hated me." but he didn't say anything, mat just resulted to pacing the living room. "i think my dad fucked me up beyond repair." your eyes never left his profile. if he wouldn't look at you, that was fine, you'd continue to stare at him. "i think i'm too codependent and messed up for anyone to love me." mat's head snapped up at that comment.

"i mean," you continued. "i wasn't enough for my dad to get sober, i wasn't enough to not get cheated on, i wasn't enough for someone to marry me. maybe it's not them. maybe i'm the issue."

"no," he said immediately, shaking his head in the process, crossing the room until he could pull you into his chest. "no. that's not true."

"yes it is! my dad doesn't love anything more than alcohol--"

mat cut you off. "anyone would've been proud to have you as a daughter."

"thomas wanted my freshman roommate--"

"thomas was an idiot."

"dawson couldn't handle me when i wasn't happy--"

"fuck him too. he was thirty dating a college student."

"and you left and i--"

mat pulled you back far enough to look you in the face. "and if i could do it all over again, i'd take you with me." he pressed his forehead against yours. "here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna make a fort and watch the mighty ducks. and tomorrow, we're gonna find you the best therapist money can buy and set up an appointment because i don't like you talking about yourself this way." your stomach twisted at the idea of therapy, hesitant because of dawson-- "and i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me, okay?"

you nodded.

"now, i need to see you smile so i know we'll be alright." you gave him a watery smile right before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "there she is."

you held onto each other for another minute before reluctantly letting go to gather blankets and pillows.

four months later

you hadn't been able to make it to many of mat's games until tonight when they played the devils at home. you sat with sydney and grace and their kids.

earlier that night, you'd gone to your therapy session and cried your eyes out. after years of feeling like you weren't a human being worthy of love, you just started seeing value in just existing.

and mat was as supportive as ever. he gave you space after therapy sessions to process until you were ready to talk to him, if you wanted to. the two of you made plans to hang out at cafes and central park rather than at bars every weekend.

"look at your man go," grace nudged you with her elbow. "he's feeling good tonight."

"i'm sure it has everything to do with you being here," sydney commented. "i've never seen that man more in love than he is right now."

you could feel the heat crawl up your neck as you shook your head. "he's my best friend."

"a best friend who loves you so much, he's willing to keep things platonic for your sake."

almost immediately, an insecure thought popped in your head, but you stopped it in its tracks, imagining the thought on a conveyor belt, moving down the belt until it was out of sight completely.

your shoulders relaxed.

you deserved to be loved, and it if was mat, great.

if not, you'd still have him as your best friend.

a buzzer sounded through the arena and a quick glance at the ice told you all you needed to know. mat was skating into a cluster of his teammates, smiling wide before pointing up at where he knew you were sitting.

grace and sydney jostled you around a little while fans, male and female alike, screamed at the idea of the mat barzal pointing at them.

when the game ended (5-4 with the islanders win), you followed sydney and grace down to the locker rooms. you met up with the other wags and smiled when they greeted you. some chatted and passed time while others rocked babies in their arms. you however were anxiously looking through your photos on your phone, specifically the album labeled mat that you'd had since you'd first gotten an iphone. you didn't glance up until you hear the sound of doors opening.

mat was the seventh person out, not that you were counting. he wore a bright smile when he saw you standing there and immediately crossed the distance between the two of you to wrap you in a huge hug.

"how was therapy?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "why do we always talk about me?"

"because i care." he lightly nudged your shoulder. "so how did it go?"

"it was good, actually," you remarked. "figured out and accepted that i deserve love."

if it was even possible, mat's smile got wider. "yeah you do."

"and maybe there are people waiting around for me to figure it out..." you trailed off before shyly meeting his gaze. and before you could stop yourself, before you ran out of courage, you stood on your tiptoes (like you've been doing since he hit his growth spurt in seventh grade) and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

you lingered for a moment before pulling away and loooking up at your bewildered best friend whose mouth was wide open.

"what?" you asked. "did i read that wrong? sydney and grace said--"

"that's all i get?" he asked. "i've waited for this since i was six years old and i don't even get the real thing?"

you furrowed your brow. "what're you talking about? six years old?"

but mat was leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. "six year old mat had the biggest crush on six year old you," he said.

"and what about twenty-four year old mat?"

he kissed you again. "head over heels for you."

age twenty-six

after a less than stellar playoff run, you and mat headed back to canada for a portion of the off season, mainly to visit family.

but it was also nice to get out of new york, even if it was just for a short period.

in hindsight, you should've known something was going to happen. your mother, nadia, and liana took you to get your nails done and to grab lunch while you were out shopping. but you were so caught up in how nice it was to be back home (words you never thought you'd ever say), you paid no attention to the lack of mat time.

so when you walked into the backyard of his parents' house and saw a giant projector screen with blankets and pillows strewn about to make yet another fort, you almost cried.

mat's head popped out from the middle with a smile on his face until he saw the tears in your eyes. "why're you crying baby? this is supposed to be happy!"

"i love you" was all you could blubber out.

mat laughed to himself, taking your hands in his own. "i love you too baby." he knelt down and the tears kept coming down your face. "ever since i was a kid, i thought i'd be the one walking you down the aisle to the man you'd marry because i never thought you'd be crazy enough to fall in love with me."

you scoffed. "i'm definitely the one batting out of my league here, mathew."

"don't talk about the love of my life that way," he said before continuing on. "we've gone through a lot together, and i couldn't imagine getting through life without you by my side." mat took a deep breath. "so tell me, do you wanna get married?" mat asked.

you nodded through your weeping. "only if i get to marry you," you smiled.

[just-null]

YO, SUPER LATE SUPER LONG SUPER MESSY OCTOBER POST THAT I JUST SHOVED EVERYTHING INTO BC I DIDN'T WANT TO DO MULTIPLE. FUCK IT.

I forgot halfway that these were supposed to be costumes and not mini aus... SO REMEMBER IN MY PLACE, EVERYTHING IS HYPOTHETICAL. also. some have a bit of yandere elements to them bc its SO FITTING FOR NORITOSHI.

Happy late October, everyone. it's winter now. Let's get it, baby.

[Long rambles and doodles under the cut!]

Vampire!

I kept asking myself, "How sexy is too sexy.." and "How the fuck does a sexy vampire even look like without it being a shirtless guy w fangs or Edward Cullen....." I think I figured it out

Sure, sure, vampires are superhumans with sun allergies that can drink blood really hotly. They can also easily overpower you to feast and blah blah blah, but what if said vampire (Noritoshi) was too weak to do any of that? Not literally, but he craves your say. He wants not only your blood but your affection. He wants to get praised as he drinks you in. Are you comfortable? How much will you allow him to take? Do you want to get him back in return? Guidance with this makes him feel more at ease. It's still Noritoshi at the end of the day. He's going to find a way to be a little awkward about you because of his crush. He refuses to drink from anyone other than you, even if it causes his death. Therefore, he has to keep you healthy! For the rest of your lives..! Besides, he can't really go outside or else he'd.. y'know. So if you think about it, this is a very beneficial relationship for both of you!!

The only downside is that you're losing blood on the regular, and for some reason, more people are moving away... Probably nothing, right? Noritoshi is always there to keep you company and help you recover anyways.

Witch!

my attempts also bled into the witch design.... you got greedy with requesting two in one ask, but I'll spoil you this time bc I also wanted to see Noritoshi as a (sexy) vampire and witch. heh. AND I DIDNT REALIZE HED BE SO CUTE AS A WITCH..... WHAT THE FUCK?? rip momo, fight for your title of cute witch...

Noritoshi strikes me as one of those witches who'd rather be left to their own devices because they're running some important magic whatever in the background. though, he'll take some breaks and indulge you if you insist on having him around. Insist meaning you pass by and strike conversation, leaving him to neglect anything and everything to prioritize his time with you. He doesn't want to use magic on you unless it's beneficial for either you or both. Noritoshi likes a natural progression with you that he knows for a fact is true and not some product of some spell. Though it doesn't mean he wouldn't use charms and such to get you to interact with him more often to speed up the process!

Can't sleep? He has a remedy perfect for that! Bad luck? Oh no, take a charm. Nerves? A potion he perfected will help you ease your jitters. Annoying peers? With a snap of Noritoshi's fingers, they're gone! Just don't ask what happened. Enjoy yourself instead and come to him with any new issue. He's quick to resolve it.

Definitely has some sort of doll that looks suspiciously like you.. Noritoshi would probably talk to it and practice one liners that give you the strongest sense of nostalgia once he uses them. He's simultaneously giddy that the charm he put in the doll works but also a little annoyed that his hard work isn't surprising you, but leaving you with deja vu.

Idol!

i was crying the entire time bc what does an idol look like.... noritoshi is handsome enough to be an idol without actually being an idol... now i can confirm that idols are very well dressed though. thumbs up 100% but i had some thoughts...

[Idol]

Noritoshi would be the type to cherish his fans, but hold clear favoritism over you. he'd be those idols that look cold, but they talk, and they sound smug in a charming way. i don't know much about idols, but i know he'd be so fucking good.... he'd be the type of guy to sing to you amongst the hundreds in the crowd.... ahhh the interviews w these famous aus. they're just talking and acting like themselves. can you imagine Noritoshi getting asked the question if he has a lover or not? he can lie, im sure you're alright with that, but he doesn't want to!! he does have someone!!! someone he loves more than all his fans love for him combined!!! he just can't say it for the sake of your privacy and his career. so Noritoshi does what any charming guy who's good with their words does. he deflects the question. answering the question, but not really, that'd be something he's known for. fans online are split on why Noritoshi does this. some think he's trying to keep that side of his life private, others think he's trying to mess around, and others think he's hiding a secret lover!!! though the last one is usually seen as the outlandish one, sometimes it makes Noritoshi's heart drop bc they get some things right. "Having a lover is a complicated question hidden behind a simple disguise. If I had to answer, I'd say my lovers are my audience. they make sure i'm well cared for, some more than others." AND HIS FUCKING LITTLE SMIRK I CANT COUGHS UP BLOOD. IM A THEORIST TOO. SECRET LOVER. 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

ON THE FLIP SIDE....

[Not an Idol]

An amusing thought where Noritoshi goes out in his casual clothes, and he's mistaken for an idol. No one knows who he is, but he just looks like he'd be one. bro's just trying to buy groceries, and now he has a fan group asking him to take pictures with them.. He'd tell them that he's just a guy, not an idol, but the group would still want a picture with him. it'd be a waste to pass by someone who's so naturally gorgeous, so with a sigh of defeat, he relents. It's just a photo, right? No harm done. Noritoshi'd go home and feel overwhelmed/embarrassed by the whole ordeal. later, he gets a call from someone in the kyoto group or you to inform him how he's all over social media, known as that handsome guy in the supermarket. HED BE COMPLETELY UNREACHABLE TO MEDIA OUTLETS BC NORITOSHI IS THAT GUY WHO DOESNT HAVE SOCIAL MEDIA.... he'd have to make one to make sure no one pretends to be him online. "Hello, I don't use social media, but I've been informed I've been getting attention online. To prevent anyone from being fooled by an impersonator, this is my official and only account. thank you." P.R. STATEMENT WRITING ASS.. his single post gets flooded with likes, comments, and DMs. it almost blows up his phone..... he was just buying bread, dude...... people try to dig up and find him through the other Kyoto group's social media.

[bonus] my second in command requested to put him in a fem idol outfit bc he thought it was funny. after frothing at the mouth and coughing out blood, I complied.

Doctor!

THIS IS SUCH A STRAIGHT FORWARD ASK BUT IT HAS SO MANY IMPLICATIONS. MY BELOVED CULT MEMBER.. THOSE EMOJIS GIVE ME A DIFFERENT IMPRESSION BUT IM NOT SURE.

Noritoshi as a doctor...... apple sales would plummet. his little clinic's business would skyrocket. sick cases would peak in his area. getting your heart checked by his stethoscope would be so fucking embarrassing bc all he'd hear is THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

LIKE IMAGINE IF THAT WAS YOUR DOCTOR? BRO.

COUGH COUGH HACK WHEEZE COUGH COUGH.

Noritoshi would probably own a small clinic that he wants to expand. That or he opened one after working for a hospital for a while. He's a great doctor who's most likely respected but a pain in the ass to work with. Among patients, he's gotten the hot doctor reputation. Most want to be treated by him, but he's so professional, any chance of trying to flirt goes down the drain. Yeah, he puts his hair up to avoid it in his face even though his eyes are closed classic lab safety procedures. He seems like the type to have a soothing but authoritative voice during examination, so he gets his message across. it's a bit difficult when dealing with patients for Noritoshi. If he sees them too often, he firstly scolds you for not taking care of yourself, then feels guilty for not giving you the proper care. Keep yourself safe and healthy, or else Noritoshi will clearly :( Putting him in a yandere setting would be dangerous. He'd have a lot of control over you, considering he can prescribe medication, shots, visits, and other things.... he'd have a ball.... nothing that would cause you any harm, of course. he's only looking out for you and doing what's best for you..!

Pirate!

my second in command wanted a pirate. pirates are so fucking cool and i know damn well if this guy were a pirate he'd have a bunch of battle scars under that fancy coat.

Noritoshi as a pirate would be more than a little odd, but also fitting. He looks like the type of guy who'd be well put together, yet he's willing to get his hands dirty. Like the guy who got into the pirate life because of some personal issue that couldn't be solved fast enough through conventional means. Even as a pirate, i imagine he holds everyone to high standards. They're still pirates though.. so his expected standards aren't even that high. He has more freedom here, so even he himself lets loose once or twice. Especially with you. He's even able to get away with more violent actions for you, the seas are unpredictable, after all. While taking some treasure, Noritoshi'd toss you a gem or golden coin, just so you can say you were the first to claim it. Just so he can see that happy glint in your eyes when getting your hands on treasure. God forbid anyone try to get their hands on your hard earned goods. They'd be met with a bullet to the foot or a sword at their neck. Everyone and their mother knows how you're his favorite, but Noritoshi downplays it. Its not a crime to help out someone from his crew is it? Not in the seven seas. He leans more into his cold ruthless killer side here. He has goals and people to help keep in line whether hes captain or not. Yet when around you, he's almost adorable in how he shows you a pearl so entrancing that it reminded him of you.

Corpse Bride!

my submission to my Noritoshi Halloween costume closet.. CORPSE BRIDE, THIS MOVIE FUCKS. esp w the yandere elements.

Noritoshi 100% made you recite the wedding vows to him before accepting the ring. If you fumbled up, he'd correct you with SO much attitude and expect you to start from the top until you got it perfectly.

Hypothetically, in the chalice scene towards the end..

Noritoshi is the type to never be fully relaxed unless he knows for sure you'll be eternally his. In this scenario, YOU proposed to HIM but have to die to continue being together. Not only that, but someone in the living world is also after your heart. Someone who bleeds. Someone who's the obvious choice. Someone who can give you the life that you deserve. Someone who will succeed in their pursuits if you. remain. alive. Noritoshi's life was cut short, yet he still managed to lose so much and be abandoned a considerable amount of times. When he meets you and finds out about the possibility of having to go through that again even in death, it finally clicks in his rotting mind. He realizes he's been doing something wrong to keep constantly failing. Noritoshi revises his methods to a more.. selfish course. Why should he care about anyone else's wants or how his actions hurt them? You were the only one who made him truly fulfilled, to make him feel alive. The only one who deserves anything and everything good that comes from this world. Destiny is never done toying with him when he realizes your marriage is invalid because of your pulse and his lack thereof no matter how hard he'd try, but the opportunity arises. of course, he's ecstatic to give you an afterlife worth much more than what a silly beating heart can achieve. "All people die eventually. If you miss your living family or friends, all it takes is patience, darling. I'll wait by your side in the meantime." He weighs the pros and cons of everything, but when it comes to swaying manipulating your thoughts he only highlights the ones that'll get you on his side. in this case, the pros of dying to be with him! Honestly, the answer was so obvious that Noritoshi didn't know why he was stressing about it before. It hurts him to see you in any type of pain, but he reassures both himself and you that it'll only be for a moment. Afterward, he'll have the rest of your afterlives to make it up to you!! What happened to Till Death Do Us Part? Noritoshi thinks it's insulting that something as shallow as that could be so widely accepted. If your love were true, it wouldn't stop just because the world decided to take them away. "Till death do us part? Darling, don't be silly. 'Not even death will do us part' feels much better, doesn't it?" 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Cold as ice II

a/n because why not take an opportunity to cry some more. I am so thankful for all the love honestly! You guys are the best!✨🤍

summary: what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.

This can be read as a standalone but is written as a part two to Cold as ice.

warning: Killing, mentions of multiple death, loosing your kids, supplement use, mention of miscarriage, trauma but I think this is not as bad as the first part lol.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"How is she?", Tommy approached Joel in a tight corridor that was filled with both sobbing people and soldiers shouting. "The same," Joel ran a hand over his face, "They are moving everyone out of here today. To a different quarantine facility." Those words instantly sparked something in Joel. "What? Shit, she's still pumped up with meds", if the process of going there was as torture as it was getting here, you barely stood a chance.

"Joel", Tommy started, but Joel was all up at his face within a heartbeat, "Tommy, if you'll tell me one more fucking time to leave her by. I will blow out your brain's myself". The tone was anything but pleasant. Joel had been wanting to rip someone to pieces for some time now. He had beaten the stranger to a pulp here after the first day. The man was standing in front of the door that led to your room. Crunched down to look through the little window. Joel didn't ask questions; he just swung a punch. Nor did he remember much besides that when Tommy pulled him away, the man was nothing but a pool of blood.

"You know that's not what…", "She lost two kids…", Joel's words cracked mid-sentence as the thought of his two angels once again swirled in his mind. His biggest and most precious little bugs were taken away like that. "So did you, man", Tommy brought Joel closer to him. Joel's arms moved to grip the material of his brother's jacket. He didn't want to cry, but the sob had come out of nowhere. The past three days have been a nightmare and then some. Now Joel was sure that he was paying for all of his sins. Paying in the most brutal ways.

Dragging you away from the field was the second hardest thing Joel ever had to do. He could only pray that his arms would not let him down as he pressed you closer to his body. Joel wasn't sure what they injected into your neck once you reached an army van and practically ripped out the eyes of the soldier who tried to help you into the vehicle, but you collapsed immediately. Joel barely managed to catch you. He pressed your unconscious body against his. Just like he had for the past hour or so. Praying and hoping that you weren't gone. Joel couldn't lose all three of you. Now you were all he had to fight for. No matter how much pain he was in himself. Joel had to drag you both out of the darkness.

Then he sat in the chair next to your bed. If you could even call it that. When they had ushered everyone underground, Joel had bribed a nurse to give you three a room and make sure that a doctor would come to check you. At that time, the price didn't matter. He needed an answer. Needed to know that you were going to wake up. High dose of sedatives - the doctor had said. "But I doubt it'll keep her out for long. After two kids… My apologies. If I'll find any medication", he had placed a supportive palm on Joel's shoulder. Something that would also end up feeling so foreign soon.

If Joel thought seeing you unconscious was difficult, it didn't compare to the heartbreak he had to endure the moment you opened your eyes. You jolted with a gasp. Eyes jumped across the room as you tried to figure out where you were. "Love…", Joel stood up, slowly approaching you. "Sarah… Malakai," you murmured as you continued to look around. "How about a glass of water, huh?", Joel asked, hoping to sway the topic. But you pushed the blanket off your body. "Sarah and Malakai," you repeated. Joel clenched his jaw. "Sarah and Malakai," "Love, stay in bed," Joel put his hands on your legs, stopping you from pushing them over the edge. "Sarah…Malakai", you said once again, eyes looking up at Joel, "They killed them. I saw… I saw," you breathed out, pressing a finger to your forehead where the bullet had pierced your son's skull. "I know, baby, I know", Joel tried to gently hold onto you, but the moment his palms touched your arms, you let out the loudest scream. Pushing him away as you turned to the other side of the bed. You dragged your feet over the cold concrete. Sinking to the floor without even being able to take a step forward. Joel rounded the bed as he kneeled in front of you.

"They are dead," you cried out, pulling at Joel's shirt, "My babies… I need to go, I need to…", you tried to pull yourself up by using Joel to brace yourself, but that only made you glance down at your hands, which were still slightly stained by the dried blood that had been on them. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Or they will come in here and", but you paid Joel no mind as you pulled your hands up so you could look at them.

"Get it off," you whispered, "Get it off," pushing your arms towards Joel as you screeched. Joel had scrubbed your unconscious body for hours. There was nothing more he could do. "Joel, get it off," you said once more, tears spilling from your eyes, and Joel couldn't bring himself to do anything. "It's everywhere, get it off", you moved your hand to rub at your skin. All you saw was blood. Blood everywhere. Rubbing turned into scratching, and soon your nails were raking over your skin. Joel quickly caught both of your wrists in his hands. Shaking you slightly as if in hopes of making your return to your senses. "Make it stop", you cried out, hallow eyes looking at Joel. "There's nothing on your hands, love", he barely managed to sound somewhat like himself. But you just shook your head at him, "There's blood all over them. Our kids' blood, Joel."

That was a day ago. Now you just lay there. Leafless. No movements. Eyes blinking once in a while. The only indication that you were still alive. Now Joel wished you would scream. The silence was torture. It was too loud. It pulled you so far away from him. Tommy clapped his brother on the back a couple of times before pulling away. "Get her ready. I'll look at how to get the best spot for you and make sure you two stay together," Joel said nothing. He hoped his eyes said enough. "You look after her. We'll get her back up on her feet," Joel could tell that even if Tommy tried to keep it somewhat positive, he didn't fully believe it himself. Didn't believe that there was any coming back from this. Nor did he believe that you would ever be the same. But Joel nodded anyway.

"Hey", Joel ran a hand over your forehead, once he stepped back into the little room, but didn't get a single movement in return. Not that he was expecting it. "We will have to get you dressed, okay? Then we'll need to go somewhere," Joel said, carefully pulling the blanket off your body before reaching for your clothes. Clothes he had washed. Wash off your kids' blood. Blood that seemed never-ending.

You were shivering. It hadn't stopped ever since you were brought in the first QZ. It had died down a bit. But there wasn't a moment when the quivering stopped. Joel pressed a kiss to your forehead as he walked through the corridor. Everyone was on high alert, and the soldiers were tired. Jumpy even. More than one person was killed here simply in the aftermath of unimaginable stress and anxiety. They only let healthy, strong people stay. Anyone with any injury, even the slightest one, was shot. You needed to stand on your own two feet. Walk through the lines of different specialists. Prove yourself worthy of surviving. And even that didn't guarantee you anything. You could have been hit by a bullet at any point.

You, however, were in no condition to stand. There was no way you could walk, much less talk. "Keep your head at the crook of my neck, love", Joel guided your head to rest there, "I will not let go of you even for a second. No one who will approach us will take you away from me," and at this point, Joel wasn't sure if he was still reassuring you or if it had turned to self-reassuring now. With the help of the doctor who assisted you just as you were brought here. They filed the documents of you having a miscarriage. Right here at the QZ. A piece of paper that had the main doctor's signature and forbade you from walking. That had high dosages of medicine marked as a fallacious move by the doctor itself. That you were more than a healthy female before that, and that you would regain that strength once the medication wore off. The only hope Joel had of getting you out of here alive was that piece of paper. And if that didn't work… Well, Joel was ready to kill anyone who stood in his way.

"Joel," Ellie's sad voice pulled the male out of the trance, "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this." Joel rested his palms on his knees, ready to stand up, but Ellie quickly inched forward. It seemed to her that the man in front of her was no longer the same Joel she knew. "How did you… how did you get through that?", she knew the question was stupid. Joel let out a sad chuckle followed by a painful sigh, "You don't even have an idea how much strength you have until you are forced to use it. That's when you truly see your power". Joel had locked his pain away. Behind a plethora of locks, doors, and crevices. So no one could see it. No one could access it. Draped a shield of coldness on top of it. The coldness made Joel seem more like an animal than a human. He had to become a monster in order to protect the only thing that kept his heart beating. Nothing was off-limits when it came to you.

"I felt like I was failing every day. Every day that I saw her lying there," Joel shook his head at the images that haunted him. The feeling of helplessness flowed through him. Joel had found a woman who could pretend to be you for the time being. Who could take your evening shifts. Who kept the target off your back. No one was allowed to lay around in the QZ, there was too much work as it was. "Joel you were far from failing her", Ellie said putting her hand on Joel's palm, "It feels different kiddo when you see someone you love drifting away".

All the worried looks that Joel would give you made sense now. All the times he would walk up to you. Taking a hold of your hand as he looked at you. Moving to kiss your hands at the time, if not that then, Joel would just hold them in his much bigger palms. At the time, Ellie thought that by doing that, Joel was just trying to warm them up during the cold evenings, but now it had a way bigger meaning behind it. That was Joel's silent attempt to make sure that you stayed with him. That you wouldn't drift away. Like a true guard at night, standing his watch. Always ready to fight for you.

"And I felt horrible that I left him all alone", the sound of your voice made the two of them turn toward the door. "I kept on telling myself to get up. You need to do that for Joel, but…", you shrugged your shoulders. Joel reached his arm towards you, and you instantly walked close to him. Settling down on his lap. His arm snaked around your middle as Joel pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. "I never blamed you for it," Joel whispered, looking straight into your eyes. "I know because you're an angel." You cupped his face gently. Leaning in to press your forehead to his. Brushing your fingers under Joel's eyes as you wiped away the last tears.

This man was everything. If you'd fallen for him and his sense of humor back then. The fact that there was never a dull moment with him that even the most serious moments could be turned into fits of laughter. If you had fallen for how attentive and caring he was toward your kids. The way he always put them first. The way he sat in the bathroom for hours learning how to braid Sarah's hair or how he played astronauts with Momo even after the longest shift. Putting him over his shoulder or back as he ran around the living room making all sorts of noises. Then Joel turned into a rock—a whole mountain that shielded you from the restless sea that threatened to drown you. Never moving. Never scared.

"I don't want you to feel like we've been using you as some sort of… as our kids' replacement. The love I feel towards you…" you started, but Ellie quickly shook her head. "How could I? No, Y/N never," she said quickly, and you reached for her hands. "You are a special girl, Ellie, so special," you said as you brushed your fingers over her cheek, and she leaned into your touch. Trying to savor it for as long as possible. "You both are like my parents and I've never felt that..", Ellie's bottom lip trembled. Joel reached out to her as well.

"And you are our girl," Joel said, his voice shaky, but he knew he had to say it. Had to let her know that his coldness toward her at the start was just his defensive response. His fear of the unknown. The fear of it all ending the same. But Joel knew that once his nightmare shifted and he started to see Ellie dying in Sarah's or Momo's place, he knew that she had sneaked past his guard. Ellie had managed to find that well-hidden spark inside Joel's heart. And there was nothing that could have been done about it.

Ellie wrapped her hands over both of your shoulders, pulling you both into a hug. A light cry slipped from her lips. Your hand instantly moved to rub her back in hopes of soothing her. Joel pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head before turning his eyes to you. Your teary eyes were already looking back at him. You mouthed a silent "I love you" to him, which Joel returned straight away, followed by a light smile.

Once Ellie pulled away, you both looked at her with fondness. "Thank you for sharing this with me. You didn't have to, but you did," she said, as you rubbed away her tears the same way you had done before. "You are a part of the family now. Family doesn't have secrets," you said softly. "Plus, I think me and Y/N both needed closure", you nodded your head at Joel's words. You had told him multiple times that it was eating you alive that you were keeping this way from Ellie. You could tell that she sensed that something was wrong; she just never asked.

"Do you want to see a picture of them?", you asked, turning to Joel, who you knew had kept a picture of you four. The one he always carried around with him. Tommy had taken it on Momo's second birthday. The summer was in full swing, so you decided to have a barbecue outside. You stood there in a flowy dress, laughing at Sarah, who had a surprised look on her face since Joel had rubbed barbecue sauce on her cheek. Joel's head was thrown back as he laughed. Even Momo, who was nestled in your arms, had somewhat of a grin on his face.

"Sarah would have loved you", Ellie lifted her eyes away from the picture to the sound of Joel's voice. You hummed in agreement, "Momo would have been all over you as well you two cheeky bunch would have gotten into so much trouble". Ellie glanced back down. The image that she saw frozen in front of her seemed almost impossible compared to the two people she had met. But now she knew more than better to not judge the book by its cover. The deepest and most painful scars were always hidden the deepest.

"I would have loved to know them", Ellie said dragging her finger over their faces, "Momo, looks like a minute version of Joel". You let out a little laugh, "That's what I said. Imagine how mad I was after carrying him for nine months and he popped out looking nothing like me". Joel cracked a smile, looking down at the photograph himself. The one he barely pulled out these days.

"If we stay in Jackson, we must build them memorial stones and plant flowers all around them," Ellie said firmly. The tears picked up at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at her. "That's a really beautiful idea, Ellie bear," you said, running your fingers over her hair. Joel nudged Ellie's side playfully, making her let out a chuckle before he brought you closer to him once again. Time healed scars, even if slowly. But you two were here and now you had Ellie by your side. Your hearts, even if covered in scars, still beat for one another. Together, you were capable of anything and everything. Life has already proven that.

[lendeah]

My first fanfic post! Hope you enjoy it, and feel free to share any requests💌

THE GRAVE SCENE™️

Summary: You know the summary😈 A reimagining of the infamous grave scene.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: + 18, NSFW, dom!Astarion

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

The morning after the battle with Cazador, the heaviness in my limbs felt like weights, my muscles aching and sore from the physical exertion of the fight. But it was the weight on my heart that was truly crushing, each beat feeling like a burden too heavy to bear. Astarion wasn't in the camp, as he had rushed out after killing his former master, needing to be alone to process the turmoil within him. The image of his primal screams as he repeatedly buried the blade into Cazador's chest was burned into my brain, haunting me with every breath. As I watched helplessly with my companions, Astarion was torn apart piece by piece, both physically and emotionally. I knew that sound would haunt me in my worst nightmares for years to come.

At that moment, my fingers longed to reach out and comfort him, but deep down I knew it would be more for my own benefit than his. So I remained still, my hand held tightly by Shadowheart's as I had to witness to the man I loved being ripped appart. I didn't shed a tear when Astarion screamed at me in rage and pain, didn't cry when he refused to come back to camp that night. But as soon as the moon rose high in the sky and everyone else fell asleep with somber looks in their eyes, I allowed myself to finally break down.

I sobbed and screamed into my pillow, releasing all of the pent-up emotions that threatened to consume me. My heart felt heavy with grief and guilt. I had been so caught up in trying to protect everyone and defeating Cazador, as well as our other enemies that I didn't realize how much Astarion was struggling with his past. I should have paid more attention, should have reached out to him sooner. His hunger for power was no secret to me, but as he begged and cried in front of me, I almost caved. Even though I stood by my decision of not helping him ascend, a part of me felt guilty for taking the choice away from him, much like how Cazador had done.

The sun had long since set and another day had passed, but still I remained in bed, cocooned in my sheets with only the sound of my own sobs to keep me company. The weight of the world seemed to press down on me as I lay there, until with a heavy sigh, I finally mustered the strength to sit up. With trembling hands, I wiped away my tears. It was time to face Astarion, to offer him whatever comfort and support he needed. Even if it meant braving his anger or facing his rejection.

The darkness of the night surrounds me as I step out of my tent, the moon casting a pale light across the campsite. I can see Astarion's tent in the distance, a small flicker of light coming from inside. The only sound is the soft crunching of leaves and twigs under my feet as I make my way across the place. My hands tremble slightly as I reach out to pull back the flap of Astarion's tent. When I take my first step inside, I notice it is lit by a single flickering lantern, casting shadows on the canvas walls. The dim light revealed the scattered remnants of broken objects, and in the center of it all, I can see Astarion sitting cross-legged on a bedroll, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

At first, I think he hasn't noticed me, but then he turns to me with a wistful expression "I should probably start getting used to the shadows again. Who knows how long I have left in the sun?" He says, his voice rough. The thought tightens my chest and I resist the urge to reach out and hold him

"Don't say that" I reply softly "we could still find a way to control the tadpole."

I take a seat beside him on the bedroll, being careful not to startle him.

"Maybe, but even if I could control it, it's a dangerous game. I'd spend every day waiting for something to go wrong." He says, his eyes filled with sorrow. "For the tadpole to find some new trick, reassert itself, and make me a slave again. Maybe never seeing the sun again is just the price of freedom." he finishes, his voice cracking with emotion. Seeing him so broken shatters my heart into a million pieces.

"I'll be with you either way." I reach out slowly, my fingers trembling as I grasp his hands, trying to convey my feelings through touch. "I hope you know that," I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.

He looks at me, his face softening as he takes in my expression. His guarded walls seem to crumble, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.

"I think I do." He says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth ",assuming we survive, of course. Because a horrible death is always just around the corner with you." His lips curl up into a mischievous smile and his eyes sparkle with amusement. I can't help but grin back at him. His hand gently squeezes mine, sending a reassuring warmth through my fingers. We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company.

But then, his face takes on a more serious tone. "There's... something I'd like to show you, if that's all right? Something out in the city."

I frown "What is it?"

"Something I haven't shown anyone else." he says with a shy secretive smile.

"Oh, how mysterious" I reply teasingly "Fine, I'll come," I say, making sure to play up my casual indifference.

We step out of the tent and into the night, as he silently takes me along the city, and I let myself be guided into the dark streets of Baldur's Gate. The city is alive, even though it's around midnight, streets buzzling with the sounds of merchants haggling, people drinking, and horses trotting. It's a stark contrast to the darkness and sadness that had filled the tent just moments ago.

He takes me through narrow alleyways and side streets, navigating through the crowds with ease, as if he has made this way many times before. Finally, we come to a halt in front of the metal fence doors of a... Cemetery?

His usual playful demeanor is gone. I can feel the weight of each step, every breath I take as I follow him deeper into the eerie silence of the place. The moonlight casts a ghostly glow upon the rows of tombstones, echoing through the stillness of the night. The graveyard is appropriately silent - there isn't a proverbial soul around.

I raise an eyebrow, looking at Astarion with confusion and skepticism "A little stereotypical, don't you think?" I joke, breaking the silence.

"Perhaps, but some things are classics for a reason." he replies.

As we walk through the space between graves, I can feel the weight of death around us. We stop in front of a worn tombstone, looking really neglected. My heart drops, as I comprehend the reason why we are here. I watch Astarion as he kneels down and wipes away the layers of dust and dirt, revealing the name more clearly. Astarion Ancunín.

"Nearly two hundred years and I never came back." he says, his voice heavy with emotion. "Not since the night I woke up down there. I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was waiting. From that day on I was his." His face contorts as he recalls the memory. "Until today." He ends, in a whisper.

I slowly place a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some sort of comfort. "You were never his. Whatever he had, he took it by force" I say, looking deep into his red eyes.

"Maybe, but he did take it. There is almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock" He adds with sorrow. "For nearly two centuries I stalked the Streets like a ghost while the person I was lays here, dead and buried. Now I need to figure out who I am, what I want." A small smile plays on his lips as he meets my gaze, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"And, what do you want?" I ask, my heart fluttering with excitement.

He stays silent for a few seconds, and then

"You... I want you." he finally confesses, his voice raw with vulnerability. Another moment of silence follows "You were by my side through all of this. Through and pain and missery. You were patient. You cared. You trusted me when that an objectively stupid thing to do." He pauses, swallowing hard before continuing. "I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."

My chest constricts at his words, my eyes watering a little. I had always felt a strong connection with Astarion, but hearing him express his feelings so openly and honestly makes my heart swell. Astarion's face is illuminated by the moonlight, his red eyes sparkling with emotion and his lips turned up in a small smile.

"You won 't." I whisper, my voice laced with determination. "Whatever comes next, I've got you." I say, as my hand reaches out to cup Astarion's cheek, feeling the soft edges of his skin.

"Thank you" he says softly, and after a beat, he looks at the gravestone again "Well, I should probably fix this"

The metal glints in the moonlight as he carefully carves a new date on the stone, marking the beginning of a new chapter in his life. Astarion kneels over the damp, musty earth, his eyes focused on the gravestone in front of him. The moonlight casts a soft glow on his face, emphasizing the lines of determination and sorrow etched into his features. As the vampire gets silently lost in his thoughts, I am struck with an idea, a simple yet touching gesture. I search around until I find what I'm looking for, and I pick a small flower from the ground. I slowly kneel next to him, and place it gently on the grave, adding a splash of color to the otherwise shadowy scene.

A small smile spreads across his face when he notices, "Cute" he says, the word rolling off his tongue like a caress. With a sigh, he follows "I've been dead on the ground for long enough. It's time to try living again" He turns his body to me, reaching for my hands and holding them tightly in his. "With everything that life has to offer"

My heart stutters at the implication of his words.

"Meaning...?" I ask, trying to sound coy. A mischievous smirk plays on his lips as he leans in closer and whispers,

"If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded" His words send shivers down my spine, and I laugh, feeling a surge of desire mixed with anticipation.

"Sounds good to me" I whisper back, my voice filled with playful allure.

He brings a hand to my cheek, stroking it lightly, "You know, I didn't care for you when we first met. But I do now. Being with you is about more than lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance." He pauses, steady gaze locked onto mine. "I love you." he breathes "I love this. And I want it all"

My heart is about to burst out of my chest, tears threatening to flow out of my eyes. There is only one thing I want in that moment, as I lean in slowly, my lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

"I love you too" I confess against his mouth. The moon shines down on us as Astarion's lips press against mine. It is a gentle kiss, filled with love and longing. I reach back, running my fingers through his white strands. My heart swells with emotion as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. Astarion's hands move down to my waist, pulling me even closer as our bodies melt together in the cool night air.

Our kiss intensifies, becoming more passionate and urgent. Astarion's tongue dances with mine, exploring every inch of my mouth. I moan into the kiss, feeling pure pleasure coursing through my body. Then, he lays back for a moment, and looks at me with a fire in his eyes I have never seen before. With a wicked smile, he pushes me down onto the dirt of his own grave, and my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His red orbs flash with raw desire as he hovers above me. Astarion's lips descend upon mine again, my fingers finding their way into his curls again, his skin warm against my own.

The moon casts its silvery glow over us, illuminating our passion in the eerie quiet of the cemetery. Every sensation heightened, every touch more intimate, as we surrendered to the ecstasy of the night.

As Astarion's lips trail down my neck, and I shiver with desire, my heart pounding erratically. He kisses my neck, my collarbone, my chest - wherever he can reach, with slow, deliberate moves. He slowly pulls away, staring into my eyes with a fierce intensity, as his hand trails down my cheek, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. Suddenly, I am aware of how long it has been since our last encounter, when he asked me to keep things non-sexual for some time.

"Are you sure about this?" I whisper , concern lacing my words "We don't have to rush it if you are still not ready".

His eyes darken at my words.

"I'm more sure than ever," he replies, voice barely above a breath. With that, he leans in again, his lips crashing into mine. I can feel the urgency in it, the hunger that courses his body as he claims me.

With nimble fingers, Astarion swiftly undresses me as if it were an art form. My heart races with anticipation as his eyes drink in every inch of me.

He lowers his lips to my neck, trailing soft kisses down my throat to my collarbone. I tangle my fingers in his hair, silently begging for more. But instead of his usual fangs piercing my skin in hunger, he showers me with gentle kisses, each one making me shudder. My skin prickles with goosebumps as Astarion's fingertips trace over every inch of my exposed flesh, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me.

Astarion's lips trail down my chest, his hands exploring every curve and dip of my body. I can't hold back the moans that escape my lips as he kisses and nips at every sensitive spot he finds. He looks up at me from the spot between my legs, and I swear it's the most sensual sight I've seen in my life: his lips swollen and glistening with the taste of mine, his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed with passion.

"My god, you are breathtaking" I say under my breath.

He chuckles, warm breath brushing against my inner thighs. "I'm well aware".

And then he dives in. His tongue darts out to taste me, lingering on my most sensitive spots, swirling and teasing me to the point of insanity. I arch my back, trying to push deeper into his mouth as the pleasure builds, my heart pounding in my chest. I moan his name, the sound lost in the cemetery's silence. My body trembles with the pleasure, my muscles tensing and then relaxing, over and over again. I can feel Astarion's hands on my thighs, his fingers slowly massaging the insides of my legs.

"Astarion," I breathe, my voice barely audible over my own gasps and moans. "I need more."

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with passion and hunger. His lips curl into a smirk.

"How do we ask?" he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

With a wicked grin, Astarion lowers his head again, his lips brushing against me, tasting me, teasing me. I shiver with anticipation, my body responding to his every touch. I grip the dirt beneath me, as my heart pounds hard in my chest.

"P-please" I cry out.

Astarion's lips curve into a smirk at my plea, his fingers trailing down my thighs as he continues to kiss and nip at my skin, but not where I want him most. "Please what, my dear?" he asks in a low voice, his breath hot against my skin.

I bite my lip, trying to catch my breath as I struggle to form coherent words. "I...I want..." I stammer.

And then, he thrusts two fingers inside me. I cry out, my body jerking in response. Astarion's fingers move in and out of me, his thumb pressing against my clit in a slow, rhythmic motion.

"You meant this, right?" He asks, his voice low and husky. I can only bring my hands to his hair and give it a sharp tug in response. At this, Astarion lets out a low groan, his mouth working harder. His fingers continue to move inside me, his pace increasing as my body responds to his touch. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, my mind consumed with nothing but pleasure.

I arch my back, pressing myself against him, wanting more of him. Astarion's free hand moves up to cup my breast, teasingly pulling at my nipple and squeezing it as he continues to thrust his fingers inside of me. The combination of sensations is almost too much for me to handle, my head going dizzy and vision blurry. I can feel him everywhere.

"Please," I beg again, my voice hoarse with desire.

Astarion pulls his fingers out of me and I whimper at the loss of contact. But before I can protest, he guides me into a sitting position and kneels in front of me, slowly getting out of his clothes. I take my time to admire his lithe body, the planes of the muscles decorating his chest and stomach. He gazes up at me with darkening eyes before leaning in to kiss me passionately.

His hands roam over my body while our tongues dance together in a heated frenzy. I can taste myself on his lips and it only adds to the intensity of the moment.

He pulls me into his lap, and when I lower my gaze, I see that I wasn't the only one affected by his ministrations. His arousal is evident against my thigh, and a shiver runs through me at the thought of what's to come.

My hands glide over his strong shoulders, running to his back, feeling the ripple of his muscles and the scars beneath his skin as he continues to explore every inch of my body. His breath hitches, latching his mouth to my neck and sucking hard. Then, he reaches my breasts, taking one of them into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the hardened nipple while massaging the other with his hand. I moan loudly at the sensation, arching my back to offer more of myself to him. Astarion's hand travels down my stomach and between my legs as he continues to suck and tease at my hardened nub. His fingers trace over my folds before delving inside once more.

I gasp at the feeling, pleasure coursing through me as he sets a steady pace with his fingers. His mouth now moves to my other breast, giving it just as much attention while still pleasuring me below. The combination is almost too much for me to handle and body trembles with ecstasy as Astarion brings me closer and closer to release.

But just when I think I can't take it anymore, he removes both his mouth and fingers from me. When I look back at him, his eyes are hooded with lust, and he has a devilish smile over his lips, showing his canines.

I whimper "Stop teasing".

Astarion chuckles at my plea, his eyes dark with desire. "But teasing you is so much fun," he says, his voice husky.

I pout at him, but deep down I know I am enjoying every moment of this game between us.

"Fine" he says finally "No more teasing", and he smirks again. Then he grabs my body effortlessly and turns me into his gravestone on my hands and knees. "Hold on tight, sweetheart," he commands with a mischievous glint in his eye. Goosebumps spread across my entire body, but I can't decipher if they are from excitement or fear. As I place my hands on the tomb, I feel the coolness of the stone against my skin, it's rough edges. I lay my eyes on the new carvings, the name in it, a bittersweet irony washes over me as I realize that this place, where he took his last breath, is now a site of new beginnings and life, and the profanation of his tomb doing nothing but stir me on.

I feel him position himself behind me, his hands roughly grabbing my hips and pulling me back against him. The tip of his erection presses against my entrance, and I can't help but shiver in anticipation.

I feel him leaning above my body "Are you ready?" he whispers in my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

"Yes," I breathe, my voice barely audible. I'm still trembling with desire, but I'm ready for him.

With one swift movement, Astarion thrusts inside me, filling me completely. My breath catches in my throat as he fills me with his thickness, and I moan out loud in pleasure and pain. He pulls out almost all the way, then thrusts back in, deep and hard. My hands grip onto the gravestone, my nails digging into it as I try to hold on to something, anything, to ground myself.

"Harder," I plead, my voice shaky.

Astarion obliges, his thrusts becoming faster and harder.

"You like that, don't you?" He groans.

I can feel every inch of him inside me, stretching me and filling me completely. Astarion's hands move from my hips to my breasts, squeezing and massaging them roughly. I arch my back, pushing myself against him as he hits just the right spot inside me and I whine loudly. Astarion's pace starts to become erratic, his breathing heavy against my neck. His hand reaches between my legs again, massaging my clit as he continues to thrust inside me like crazy. The combination is mind-blowing and I can feel myself feeling so close to ecstasy. By now, I'm sure I am drooling over the ground beneath, but I can't bring myself to care.

"Come for me," Astarion growls, his voice low and commanding.

With his words pushing me over the edge, I explode in a wave of pleasure, screaming his name as I ride out my orgasm. Wave after wave of  pleasure courses through my body, making me shake like crazy, and I know if I wasn't grabbing the stone, I would be on the floor by now.  Astarion's hands are caressing my back as I come down from my high, and I feel him hard inside of me still. For a second, I think this is going to be it, but Astarion isn't finished yet. He eases himself out of me, his touch gentle as he lays my body down on the cool dirt beneath us. His lips meet mine once again, but this time the urgency is mixed with tenderness and a hint of vulnerability. Astarion pulls away slightly, his breath ragged as he stares into my eyes, his while curls tickling my face.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice barely a whisper.

I look into his eyes, filled with love and passion, and I know without a doubt that I am his. I smile up at him, reaching to stroke his face.

"Yes, I am" I say, my voice just as soft.

He slowly pushes inside me once more, grunting and keeping our eyes locked. My body is sensitive after my first orgasm, and I let out a hiss in response.

"Say it" he grunts "say that you are mine".

My breath catches as Astarion continues to thrusts into me, the overwhelming sensations of pleasure overcoming any lingering sense of sensitivity.

"I am yours," I pant, my voice filled with devotion and longing. A slow smile spreads across Astarion's face, and he leans down to capture my lips in a passionate kiss. He then lowers his mouth and sucks hard on the skin below my ear, and I know I will arrive bruised at the camp. The thought of our companions knowing should ashame me, but it only excites me. Being marked as his.

"Mine" he repeats, and with a feral growl, Astarion thrusts into me with renewed vigor.

My body responds, arching and undulating beneath him, my nails dig deep into the flesh of his back, marking him as mine as well. He grabs my hands, intertwining our fingers as we move together in perfect harmony. His movements become slow and deliberate, the moment turned intimate.

"I love you," I whisper, my voice hoarse from the intensity of everything.

Astarion's eyes lock onto mine, and I see the depth of his love and devotion for me there. "I love you, too," he says. Astarion's movements become more desperate as he chases his own release, but never breaking eye contact with me, like he wanted to memorize every detail of my face, to etch it into his memory forever.

As he feels himself nearing his climax, he reaches down and grabs the back of my thighs, pulling me even closer to him and teasing where our bodies are connected. The sensation of his rough hands on my skin sends hard shivers of pleasure up my spine.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice gruff with desire. "Look at your master".

The word makes something primal awakens in me, leaving me dizzy with desire, as I look up to meet his gaze. Astarion's eyes are locked onto mine as he drives himself deeper inside me, our bodies rhythmically colliding with a loud smacking noise that fills the silence of the graveyard.

"I love you," he groans once again, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

I can feel my own climax building, my body responding to his every thrust. The sensation of being filled by Astarion, knowing that he is mine and I am his, is unlike anything else in the world.

"Come for me, darling," he groans, his eyes never leaving mine.

With one final push, I feel myself shattering into a thousand pieces, my orgasm washing over me like a tidal wave. I cry out his name, my voice echoing through the ancient ruins around us. Astarion's own climax hits him like a freight train, his body convulsing as he pours himself into me. I feel his seed filling me, and a wave of warmth washes my body as I revel in the sensation.

For a moment, I simply lay there, basking in the afterglow and the feel of his sweaty body pressed against mine. Then, slowly, I gently run my fingers through his hair, smiling tenderly at him. He trails soft kisses over my shoulder, leaving goosebumps over my skin.

"I'm yours," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Forever."

Astarion shows a delighted smile that radiated from deep within him, and he pulls me close.

"Thank you" He whispers hoarsely.

I furrow my brows and look up at him. "What for?"

He looks down, and I think I see a hint of embarrassment color his cheeks "For being with me, despite everything." he says "For loving me even if I'm nothing more than a spawn"

I give a soft kiss to the skin below his throat "I don't love you for your power, Astarion" I say softly "or your beauty or your abilities. I love you for you, because you deserve to be loved"

He seems to get a little emotional at that, but only holds me closer to his body and keeps caressing my back.

After a few minutes in comfortable silence, he leans down and whispers in my ear, breath warm against my skin. "I didn't know you could be so obedient"

I turn my head to look at him, a mischievous smile forming on my lips. "I didn't know you liked me being obedient," I reply, teasingly.

Astarion chuckles and pulls back slightly to look me in the eyes. "Oh, sweetheart," he says with a smirk. "There are so many things you don't know about me."

Without warning, Astarion pulls out of me slowly, and with a satisfied grin, he helps me to sit up and leans in to kiss me tenderly.

"As much as I enjoyed this new begginings graveyard fretting, this place is giving me the creeps" He says, looking around at the dark and eerie background. "Let's go home”

We gather our clothes and begin to dress, but not before we take a moment to relish in the warmth and safety that we found in each other. As we walk away from the ancient ruins, hand in hand, we can't help but smile and think to ourselves that maybe, just maybe, we found more than just a new beginning in the depths of that old, dark place.

[cellythefloshie]

;; Paths We Didn't Take Dedicated to @wyattjohnston for her birthday bingo

Summary: City girl, Margeaux, had sworn off love after breaking up with her boyfriend of two years. She’s thought he was the one, but instead of a wedding ring, Margeaux was left trying to fill the void he left being. With the help of her friends, she escaped the life she knew in the city. Deep in cabin country, Margeaux struggles to find herself - but it's easier said than done when her high school sweetheart makes an unexpected appearance. Birthday Bingo Tropes: Lake Fic, One-Night Stand, Sworn Off Love, High School Sweethearts, Fish Out of Water, Exes to Lovers, Opposites Attract. Kinks & Tropes: protected sex, it's pretty vanilla (and nowhere near what I usually write for smut, so be gentle with me, I've been out of the game for a while). ABOUT THE OC: Margeaux, face claim: Nicola Peltz. Word Count: 9.6k+ A/N: Demi, I AM SO SO SORRY for how long it took me to write this fic or you for your special day. AND thank you for being so understanding as I reached out to you during my writing process. This fic is a little different from anything I've written before. It's got a lot more pop-culture references than I usually include, and if I really let myself fall into the plot fully, this easily could have been a slow burn novel fulled with so much lake side shenanigans. Just watch, this will be a rabbit hole I fall into often, just like Adam and Charlie..... Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait. Happy Belated Birthday. 🎂

Part One. 

Tears glimmered like diamonds as they traveled over the swell of Margeaux’s cheeks and down into the corners of her lips. Slowly, her tongue licked them away, tasting her own sorrows. And she watched it all in the reflection produced on her phone screen, a live video shared with her thousands of followers live on TikTok. They heard every echo of her footsteps of her empty apartment that had once been filled with laughter, love and her ex-boyfriend’s cologne. Now, it smelt of nothing but the fresh morning breeze that gusts over the rolling waves that crashed up onto Vancouver’s shores. 

Margeaux could smell it as she took an unsteady breath, a desperate attempt at composure, but her eyes were already red and swollen from crying. Her viewers had seen it all, the comments flooded with love. They had lived in that apartment with her through her videos. They had all shared a little piece of her two-year relationship that was now over. Some viewers shared her broken heart, others were angry - as she should have been. He had cheated on her, after all, and they were the first ones to know it. Sending her all the screenshots of evidence. They were all strangers, yet her closest friends. It just made sense to be ending this chapter of her life with them. 

“We’ve been through so much here, haven’t we?” she spoke, her voice breaking as she addressed her growing audience. The comment section flooded so quickly that she couldn’t even read it, “So many adventures, love, headache. We have grown up together here, between these walls.”

Margeaux panned the camera over the sterile white walls that would be the blank canvas of life to the next residents set to move in at the beginning of August. Then Margeaux turned the camera back to herself, her expression soft with sadness but bright with the hope she held for her future. “But I’m done,” she declared, her voice growing stronger. “I’m done with the heartache, the lies, and the broken promises. We’re better than that. We deserve better. I’m swearing off men, and that’s a promise!”

Behind her, Margeaux's words had earned a slow, almost hollow sounding applause that echoed off the large apartment’s empty walls. It drew her gaze bag and tugged her lips into a soft smile. It was Carrie, her best friend, who had returned from carrying the last box down to the can. Margeaux had hoped that she would have been able to sneak in a quick stream while she was gone, but she had been caught up in the moment of it all, leaving Carrie’s eyes rolling upon discovering her. 

“Margeaux, seriously?” Carried scoffed, a single hand raising up to tangle in her curls, “Nobody wants to see you cry on TikTok.”

Margeaux sniffled, wiping away a single tear with the back of her hand, all the while smiling. “You’re right,” she sighed, her shoulders slouching as she looked back to the camera, “I think it’s time I disconnect for a while, guys. We started this journey together in this apartment and achieved so much. But outside of this bubble I’ve made for myself, do we really know who Margeaux Fortin is? Do we know what’s next?” 

She walked to the window slowly, a gust of wind catching her golden hair and tossing it away from her face, that was now free of tears. Her viewing could see her face in full. How her eyes seemed to squint in the breeze, and how her lips parted in a trembling breath. “We don’t. It’s something we will have to discover, but I have to do it alone, friends. I will be back, and I can’t wait to share my new version of me with you all.”

Slowly, her arm lowered, her stream capturing nothing more than the white walls before the stream ended. Margeaux stood by the window in silence, waiting for Carrie to quip in with something charming, but it never came. Turning in place, Margeaux crossed her arms over her chest and held herself firmly as she was met with Carrie’s narrow stare. 

“People really buy all that bullshit?” Her words were laced with a laugh that would have been a firm ‘ha’ if it came to fruition. 

“It’s not bullshit,” Margeaux gripped at the fabric of her own cardigan tightly. 

Carrie had never understood why she devoted so much time to social media and her followers. Margeaux spent the last 2 years of her life living through the screen or her phone or a camera if she were filming something to be posted later, and she was successful with it. Not only had she garnered a mass of followers, she had made many friendships and sponsorships and had experienced things she would have never imagined she could. Yet, Carried was humble, disconnected from all social media, and liked to live in the moment. If they hadn’t been friends since preschool, they probably wouldn’t have been friends at all. 

She had almost lost her a few times too, and Margeaux was glad she hadn’t. Outside her online presence, Carrie was all she had left. 

“Hey,” Carrie left where she stood by the doorway and walked across the room to take Margeaux into her arms. “I know it’s not bullshit… It’s just weird,” she sighed, and when she drew back, Margeaux made sure to give her a smile. 

“It’s all I know,” Margeaux sighed, “but as long as I’m online, as long as my breakup is trendy, I’m just going to be reminded of what he put me through - but I don’t know what else to do, Carrie.”

Carrie’s expression softened, and Margeaux’s heart sank. She was pitying her. 

“I know it’s hard, but you’ll get through this because I know just the thing to help.”

Margeaux raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued, “Oh?”

Carrie smiled, a glint in her eyes that Margeaux couldn’t quite identify. “My friend Mat is coming home for the summer. He’s got a cabin up in the mountains, and he’s invited me to stay there. I’m allowed to bring friends, and Charlotte and Samantha are already on board. You should come with us.”

Margeaux bit down on her lip as she hesitated to answer. This was the first time she had heard of this trip, but she wasn’t surprised. Carrie never invited her out to do anything that involved the outdoors, and that was for good reason. Margeaux hated the heat and the cold, the sun and the rain, the dirt and she hated the bugs more. The scenery itself was beautiful, especially in British Columbia. It was, to put it simply, picturesque, everything she needed for her online presence, but if she went with Carrie, Margeaux wouldn’t be going to make content. She would be trying to find herself. 

“I don’t know,” Margeaux sighed, her tone returning to that soft, disheartened tone she had started her stream with. “You know I’m not exactly the outdoorsy type.”

Carrie raised a single well manicured hand, waving off Margeaux's concerns with ease. “You don’t have to be. It’ll be good for you to get away from all of this for a while. Just think of it as a much-needed forest retreat.”

Margeaux bit her lip as her mind flashed to the image of a rustic cabin in the middle of nowhere. Where mosquitos would feast on her blood, the howl of wolves would keep her up at night and where dirt would stain her spotless white shoes. She cringed as her mind spiraled with just how bad it could be.

What if there was no internet or worse, no air conditioning?

In her mind, it sounded more like torture than somewhere she could go to relax, rejuvenate and find herself after spending years of giving little pieces of herself to her ex just for him to throw it all away. 

Margeaux's shoulders shook with a deep breath that escaped her lips in a sigh. Then she looked around the empty apartment one last time, letting the reality of her situation really sink in. Her boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, had cheated on her. She was moving out of the apartment that was meant to be her home. She was nothing more than an internet personality who was a shell of who she once was. Margeaux needed to move on, to find herself, but she wasn’t going to find it in Vancouver. 

She bit her tongue to keep herself from cursing. Carrie was right. 

“Okay,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “I’ll go.”

Carrie's features grew bright, her jaw slacking as she smiled. She must not have thought Margeaux was going to accept, but she had surprised them both. Margeaux just hoped she wouldn’t regret it. 

“You’re going to love it,” Carrie assured, throwing a single arm around her shoulders to lead her out of the apartment, and the life she was leaving behind. “This summer is going to be exactly what we need. We finally get to have a hot girl summer together.”

Now it was Margeaux’s eyes that were rolling. They hadn’t been single at the same time since sixth grade, but the last thing Margeaux wanted was to go sleeping around. Especially when the wounds of her breakup were still fresh. 

“We’ll see about that,” Margeaux sighed and the weight on her heart began to lift ever so slightly. The apartment with all its memories - good and bad - would be behind her soon, and maybe, just maybe, with a little help, she could find herself again. 

—

The winding mountain road twisted and turned, the dense forest on either side a blur of green as the car sped along with urgency. They had left Carrie’s place behind schedule, and Margeaux was going to be the first to admit that it was her fault. She didn’t know what to pack, so she over packed, and they had spent 30 minutes trying to make sure all her bags would fit. While Carrie’s grip on the steering wheel was tense, Margeaux’s cluelessness hadn’t fully killed the mood. The atmosphere, especially in the back seat, was lively. 

The car vibrated with the base of the hottest song of summer - according to Samantha, who lay sprawled out over the center console as she did her best to outshine Sabrina Carpenter as she sang along with Espresso - albeit off-key. Charlotte sat beside her in the backseat, her phone in hand as she curated just what songs would come next. Margeaux sat in the passenger’s seat, watching as Samantha tapped at the screen on her phone. Jealous. Carrie had taken her phone from her before they got in the car. Margeaux was officially cut off. No more TikTok. No X. Not even Facebook, which was primarily kept to message no one beyond her grandmother. And watching Samantha in the back seat made Margeaux’s skin crawl. It was an itch she wouldn't be able to scratch for the entire weekend, and one that she was struggling to ignore.  

There was snow saving her, or at least that's how she felt as the tapping of Carrie’s fingers against the steering wheel mimicked the racing of her anxious heart. She couldn't even bring herself to sing along with one of her favorite Taylor Swift songs as it blasted through the car. Charlotte cheered as if she were in the front row at the Eras Tour, and Carrie sang like she was performing in front of a crowd of thousands. She sang with so much passion, so much heart. But Margeaux only sunk further into her seat. 

There was an ache in the depths of her chest, one that had begun to gnaw at her ever since the breakup. Sometimes, it felt like it was finally beginning to fade - but being surrounded by her friends, the laughter and the music only numbed the pain. Deep below the surface, she was still hurting and Margeaux was beginning to question if anything could heal her. 

Her phone. 

She needed her phone. 

Lulling her head to the side, Margeaux looked down at the backpack that rested at her own feet. Carrie’s backpack. The one she had confined her phone to at the beginning of the trip as Margeaux was sentenced to be completely isolated from the very lifeline that was her phone. 

Maybe, with Carrie distracted, Margeaux could reach her phone. 

Margeaux slouched in her seat, her bright eyes watching Carrie as she rocked the chorus. 

Her perfectly manicured fingers pinched at the zipper, pulling it open, the very sound of it drowned out by her friend’s vocals. And for a moment, as the bag fell open, Margeaux felt hope, relief- and it was all gone just as quickly as it came as she felt Carrie’s careful grasp coil around her hand. 

Looking up through thick lashes, Margeaux sighed. Carrie’s eyes hadn’t even left the road. “Margeaux, you need this. You need to let you. Just for a little while.” 

Full lips parted, ready to argue - to insist that she was fine - but it all would have been a lie. A desperate attempt to get her life back, but Margeaux had been friends with Carrie long enough to know that it would have been a losing battle. They looked out for one another, they always did, and Carrie was just doing what was best for her, Margeaux knew that. 

“Fine,” she pouted, her arms crossing over her chest childishly. 

Carrie laughed, the tension in the car evaporating slowly as Margeaux became distracted by the scenery as it passed the window in a blur. The singing and laughter were the mere background track of her mind that was still fixated on the anxiety and the dread she was trying to escape. It haunted her for the rest of the drive, her head resting against the car window as she told herself that the complications of her life were behind her now, and that they would be at the cabin soon. 

Soon, she would finally find peace. 

The trees began to thin, and the road opened up to a large clearing at the end of a winding driveway. There was a sight that left Margeaux’s breath catching in her throat. The cabin wasn’t the rustic, rundown shack she had imagined. It was a beautiful, multistory cabin with floor to ceiling glass windows that reflected the surrounding forest and mountains on the skyline. It had a large porch too, one that wrapped around the front and had a towering staircase that led from the driveway up to the front door.  

“Wow,” Margeaux breathed out as she stepped out of the car, taking it all in. “You didn’t tell me we were visiting Edward Cullen.”

Carrie’s lips split into a wide grin, it was clear to Margeaux that her friend was pleased by the shock that was painted all over her face. “Not bad, right?” 

“Not bad at all,” Margeaux agreed, moving to the trunk to grab her bags, “you know, I would have been much more agreeable if I knew this was the kind of cabin we were coming to-”

“What’s the fun in that?” Carrie teased her, helping her unload one of her many bags - a bag that ended up on the ground as they were both startled by a shout from at the top of the steps;

“Carrie!”

Margeaux looked up, her trendy curtain bangs falling into her eyes, as she stood in the driveway left frozen at the sight of the man jogging down the steps towards them. He was tall, with an athletic build on full display, as he was wearing nothing more than a pair of swim trunks. His dark hair was shaggy, hanging down into his eyes, and as he got closer, she could see the easy smile on his face. He was handsome - very handsome - and Margeaux quickly concluded that this must be Carrie’s friend, Mat. 

She watched, still lingering at the trunk of the car, as Carrie reached Mat at the bottom of the stairs. They met in an embrace, Mat’s hands lingering low on Carrie’s back. Margeaux’s brow raised and her head tilt so silently screamed, friend’s my ass. They were fucking. Margeaux didn’t need to be told to know that, and it left a sour taste in her mouth knowing that she had been invited alone to some fuck fest in the woods. 

Her mood changed in an instant as she unpacked the rest of her bags that began to pile up as if she had just gotten off an international light. Margeaux grumbled to herself, her brows heavy and lips pressed into a firm line. And her expression only hardened further as she heard the symphony of footsteps that belonged to Mat’s friends. They too were making their way down to greet them, and while she was curious, Margeaux was mad. Carrie had invited her with the full intention of keeping Mat’s friends busy for the weekend. 

Hot Girl Summer. 

Gripping the handle of one of her bags tight, Margeaux took a deep breath and tried to get her features to relax before she looked up at the trio of men that had made their way down from the cabin, their welcome party. They were making their introductions to Charlotte and Samantha who had already pulled out all the stops when it came to their flirtations and charms - which wasn’t all that difficult when they had driven down not wearing more than a pair of denim shorts pulled over their swimsuits. 

A part of Margeaux hoped that the sights of them alone would be enough to distract the men from her - that Carrie, Charlotte and Samantha would have all of their undivided attention while she struggled to carry her bags up the staircase and then went off to hide somewhere on a lounge chair or a beach to enjoy the sun. And while Margeaux was sure she wouldn’t be lucky enough to disappear, she still tried. She organized her bags with such an ease that only came with the experience of travel, closed up the trunk and slowly rounded the car like a deer trying to creep past a predator. She even kept her head down in an attempt to go unnoticed. 

And she might have been successful if it hadn’t been her own heart that failed her. 

There was a familiar laugh that took the air. It was a low laugh, one that could only belong to a man. But not any man. This was a laugh she had heard countless times before. One that she had coaxed from thin lips, one that made her heart thunder when she was merely sixteen - and even after seven years, it still did. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her ears. It felt like she had just finished a sprint, though she was standing still. And her luggage slipped from suddenly sweaty palms, sending it to the ground in a clamor that brought all the attention to her. 

At that moment, it was all confirmed in front of her. 

Margeaux’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze fixated on the all too familiar face that hadn’t seen her yet. He was laughing at something someone said, and looked just as she remembered him - his smile large, his eyes bright and his hair threatening to curl as it was slicked back with sweat or water - except he was older now, more mature, and even more attractive. 

The need to take even a single breath strangled her lungs, but the shock of the unexpected reunion was heavy on her chest. She hadn’t prepared for this. 

Her high school sweetheart. 

Anthony Beauvillier.

Part Two. 

For the rest of the first day at the cabin, Margeaux had kept herself hidden away in the bedroom that was hers for the weekend. There she followed through with her multi-step self care routine that she always did before bed. Carrie had only tried to bug her once, but Margeaux was quick to dismiss her with nothing more than a scowl. She wasn't joining them by the fire tonight. She wasn't going to drink craft beer and pretend everything was okay. Not when it was all so clearly a setup. But Margeaux could only hide away from Anthony and her friends for so long. 

Come morning, Margeaux was sitting out on the front steps of the cabin with a shoebox in her lap. Inside were a pair of brand-new hiking boots, a purchase she had made more out of necessity than desire. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she carefully removed each of her dainty designer sandals. The thin straps and detailing were a stark contrast to the rugged shoes she was about to put on. Then, she slipped on a clean white pair of socks, opened the shoe box and fought the boots onto her feet. They were tight, uncomfortable even as she would be breaking them in on the post-breakfast hike. 

It was as she was tieing up the laces of each boot that a familiar voice broke through the sound of the morning breeze and chirping of early rising birds. “Those brand new?” 

Squinting her eyes, Margeaux looked up, rose-tinted sunglasses shielding her eyes from the sun that illuminated Anthony from behind like a radiant halo. He stood a few steps away, already dressed for the hike, with a teasing grin on his face. Margeaux knew their paths would cross again. Yet his presence left her heart jolting at the sight of him. 

“Maybe,” she finally replied, her smile turning inwards as she adjusted the laces just right. 

Anthony chuckled, his gaze dropping to her shoes before meeting her eyes again. “You never really were the outdoorsy type.” 

Margeaux stiffened, her shoulders rolling back as they tensed, unsure of how to respond. The comment was innocent enough, and very much the truth, but she didn't like it. It made her feel that she didn't belong there. That Anthony didn't want her to be there. 

“Well, here I am.” 

Anthony smirked as he took a casual stride towards the railing of the deck. He leaned there casually, but his gaze continued to linger on her. “So, what has you all the way out here?”

The question hung heavily in the air, and Margeaux could sense the deeper meaning behind his words. He wasn't just asking about the cabin or Vancouver. He was asking about her life, about how she ended up there. And while the simple answer was Carrie, she was sure Anthony was asking about one thing, but would never actually say the words.

I’m not fucking Mat if that's what you're asking, was what she wanted to say. But Margeaux answered him with less vulgarity, “I dumped my boyfriend, and Carrie thought I could use a change of scenery.”

For a moment, as Margeaux so blatantly stared at him, she thought she saw a flicker of something in his expression. Relief, maybe, or something close to it. But it was gone in the blink of her eyes, replaced by that same teasing smile he had greeted her with. “You’re joining us for the hike?”

“I didn't put on these ugly things for fun,” Margeaux said, wiggling her feet. 

“They aren't supposed to be good looking, Margeaux. They're supposed to be supportive, comfortable,” he told her with a grin that faded as he looked from one side of her to the next. His expression softened slowly, his eyes squinting as if he were trying to find something that wasn't there. 

“What?” she snapped more harshly than she had intended. 

“Where's your bag?” 

Margeaux blinked, her eyes wide and clueless. “Hiking bag?”

Anthony turned in place, his back resting against the railing as his smile fell into a sigh. His band then raised up, carding through his messing morning hair. “You're not carrying anything with you? No water, no snacks, nothing?”

Margeaux perked up in place. She shouldn't have, but she did. She was bringing something. Her hand dropped to her side where her GoPro sat, waiting to be mounted on her chest with a contraption she had bought on Amazon last minute. She held it up for him to see, feeling a little foolish, but happy. It was her only connection to her online persona, and it made her feel a little less anxious as she was about to dive into the world of being outdoorsy - a world she never really wanted to be a part of. 

He was left unimpressed as he pushed off the rail and moved for his bag that rested nearby. There was a thunder of footsteps behind her. It was time to go.

“Just. Stick close to me,” Anthony said, his tone serious as he fell into stride with the rest of the group. 

“What? Why?” she asked, standing up as she fastened the camera over her chest. 

“You're going to need all the help you can get,” he replied, a hint of concern in his voice. 

And while she knew that he was right. His words still stung. 

“No air won't,” Margeaux bit back at him, her confidence forced, but so convincing she almost believed herself. 

He didn't have to look back at her for Margeaux to know that he was smiling. She could hear it in Anthony's words as he spoke, “Alright, Princess. We'll see about that.” 

Hearing her old nickname left Margeaux frozen in place. Each of her friends passed her, but she fixated on Anthony and only Anthony. He had been the only one she let call her that. Not her parents, nor her most recent ex were allowed to - and when he tried, she had shut it down quickly, yet casually, and suggested an alternative. Because it had been something special when Anthony said it. It left her heart fluttering, and her cheeks pink with blush. Even as he said it then, and she was hearing it for the first time in years, she remembered each time he said it before. Quickly, she became the giddy teenager that was undeniably and irrevocably in love with Anthony Beauvillier. 

The feeling was fleeting, gone as quickly as it came, knocked out of her with her breath as a pair of arms flung around her in a tight embrace. 

“What are you waiting for? Let's go!”

It was Carrie. All too chipper, and all too happy for Margeaux to stomach when she could already feel the itch of a mosquito bite on her arm. Besides that fact, Margeaux was still angry that Carrie had put her into this position.

Taking a deep breath, Margeaux shrugged her friend's arms from her body. The quick turn of her head offered her an eye roll and a glare that only brought Carrie to laughter. She knew this would upset her, but knew that keeping it from Margeaux and asking for forgiveness later was easier than trying to convince her to go.

Carrie nudged her as they reached the beginning of the trail, and when she spoke, she kept her voice low so as not to be heard by the rest of the group that led the way. “So,” she licked her lips, “how long are you going to be mad at me for?” 

Margeaux glanced ahead, making sure Anthony was out of earshot. He walked at the front of the pack, making the hike through the Instagram worthy view look so effortless as she tripped over rocks. She watched as he tried to dodge a branch of a pine tree; the bristles brushing against the fabric of his shirt. As she walked in his wake, she could smell the scent of it in the air. Pine mixed with dirt, mixed with the sunscreen on her face that had already begun to run into her eyes as sweat dripped off her brow. 

Her eyes squinted, her nose wrinkling too at the discomfort as she spoke, “I think 4 years would suffice. You know, the amount of time Anthony and I dated in high school.” 

He had been playing for the Shawinigan Cataractes when Margeaux had met him. So sweet, and so shy, she had to make the first move. They had been inseparable since that moment. That was until he was called up to the NHL by the Islanders. He moved to New York; she moved to Vancouver. Slowly, even after their efforts, they lost touch. Margeaux told herself it was just how things were meant to be. The two of them, just highschool sweethearts, never meant to be more than her first love. But now she wasn't so-

“He's single, you know?” Carrie broke through her thoughts.

“How do you-” Margeaux spoke quickly, her tongue tripping over her words as she couldn't follow a single train of thought, “what is he even doing here? Did you invite him?”

“No,” Carrie held up both hands as if to plead her innocence, “he's Mat's old teammate. They're still close friends. I didn't find out he was coming until a few days before.”

“But you didn't tell me,” Margeaux bit out. 

“I didn't,” Carrie hummed, “but” she added in a sing-song tone, “I bet it's nice seeing again.”

“It is,” she admitted, “in a way, I guess. But it doesn't mean I forgive you. Not when I know you only invited us out here to keep his friends busy during your weekend booty call.” 

Carrie didn't even blush. She had no shame as she leaned in and kissed Margeaux on the cheek before she ran off to the middle of the pack where Mat was walking. 

It left Margeaux alone at the back of the pack, falling further and further behind as they followed the trail. It grew steeper with every stride, and Margeaux's legs began to ache. While she loved her pilates, her body was in no way trained for the long hike. Her breath became short, her gasps quiet as she did her best not to draw attention to herself. Each step was a struggle as she began to question just how far she could go. Yet, she didn't ask for help. 

She didn't have to. 

With her eyes fixated on the ground, Margeaux jumped in surprise at the sound of the sudden but softly spoken. “Here” that met her ears. Looking up, she found Anthony walking beside her. He had noticed her struggling and had fallen to the back of the pack, with the mouthpiece of his water bladder in hand. He offered it to him with a soft, concerned smile. “You look like you could use this.”

Her pride was bruised, yet Margeaux took the mouthpiece and accepted her defeat. They paused in the middle of the trail and she took a long drink that soothed her dry throat. When she pulled back, Margeaux was sure she could see the gratitude written all over her face. “Merci,” she muttered, handing it back. 

Anthony smiled. 

“We're almost to the top,” he encouraged. “The hike back will be easier.” 

Margeaux nodded, raising a hand to wipe the sweat off her brow. She was too tired to speak, but his reassurance gave her the strength to keep going. They walked together in silence, the sound of their footsteps lost in the faint laughter of their friends in the distance. 

They followed the sound; the laughter growing louder and louder until they reached the peak of the trail together. The trees parted into a clearing that looked down over the sprawling forest around them and left endless blue skies free from their shade. Margeaux could feel the hot sun on her skin, but the summer breeze cooled her. And she smiled. 

“See,” Anthony nudged her casually, “worth the effort, right?” 

She looked back over her shoulder at him, still smiling. “Yeah.” 

He stood at her side, their backs to the rest of the group as they admired the view from the peak of the trail. The group all linger there for a while, sharing conversation and refueling for the descent. But Margeaux only spent her time with Anthony, sharing his water and casual conversation. Even as they walked back to the cabin, they walked side by side, his arms finding her when she stumbled. Margeaux was relieved by the time they reached the cabin steps. But she was also feeling something new. Something that felt a little like excitement, a little like hope, and she knew it was all because of Anthony. 

Part Three.

The hot day faded into a cool, starry night. Margeaux had insisted that she was going to go straight to bed, but with a little convincing, she was pulling on her sweatshirt and joining the group out back by the lake where there was a fire pit. The flames danced, and the wood crackled, releasing sparks into the darkness above. 

The fiery embers danced in the breeze and Margeaux watched them until they were lost among the stars. The air was engulfed by the scent of wood-smoke, tainting the fresh air that almost left Margeaux dreading that they would be going back to the city come morning. She was just starting to like this place, though she was sure that wouldn't have been the case if Anthony wasn't there. 

He had been as sweet as the gooey marshmallow and melted chocolate sandwiched between graham crackers that oozed between her fingers. An insatiable delight that only left her wanting more than they sat side by side around the fire. Anthony had her laughing. He had her forgetting the reasons she had agreed to go out to the cabin. It was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders. The heartache, the uncertainty, and the anxiety were all gone, but it left all the room for dread. 

It hit her like a truck the moment she felt something crawling on her leg. It left her heart heavy as she tried to ignore it. Margeaux told herself that it had to be another harmless insect. She even reached a hand down, swatting the air, but the sensation persisted. It sent shivers down her spine, and when she looked down, she saw it - a small, dark tick making its way up her leg. 

Shooting up from her seat, Margeaux shouted the first thing that came to mind as she tried to shake the bug off her leg, “Anthony!”

Anthony, who had been sitting right beside her, dropped down so that he knelt in the dirt. The flickering flame illuminated his features, and even in the intensity of its light, he was calm. He reached out with both hands, her body becoming still in an instant as he searched for the tick. “It hasn’t latched on yet. Hold still.”

Margeaux held her breath, her lungs burning deep in her chest, as she stood there frozen as Anthony reached for the tick. His fingers were gentle but sure as he plucked the tiny tick from her skin. He held it up briefly for her to see that it was in her hold, before tossing it into the fire, where it disappeared with a faint sizzle. 

“It’s gone,” he reassured, but then his face wrinkled, “but there might be more. You should check yourself over, just to be safe.”

Her heart surged as she was hit by another wave of panic. The thought of more ticks crawling on her skin left her on the verge of tears as she nodded quickly. She was struggling to keep her composure. “I don’t think I can. Could you?”

Anthony hesitated, his throat clearing as he looked at each of his and her friends. Then, he ran his hand over his jawline before giving a small nod, “alright, let’s go inside.”

They left the warmth of the fire together, Margeaux’s quick steps leading the way. She didn’t stop until they were enclosed by the shadows of the bedroom. It was quiet there, the amber glow of the table top lamp at her bedside. It was too intimate; she decided quickly, but not even turning on the overhead light erased the feeling of uneasiness that came with the reality of what she told him to do. 

Margeaux’s hands trembled slightly as she undressed, peeling off her clothes layer by layer until she stood in nothing but her bra and underwear. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but also annoyed. Her bra and panties didn’t match, and were far from cute - but she hadn’t exactly planned for anyone else to see them. Especially not Anthony. 

But he didn’t seem to notice as he turned around from closing the door behind her, and if he didn’t, he didn’t comment on it. Anthony was completely quiet as he approached her. He stood in her shadow, his hands reaching out to rest on her shoulders with such a gentleness Margeaux held her breath. “You ready?”

Margeaux nodded, giving him the permission he needed to continue. He checked her carefully, his hands moving over her skin with a touch that was both methodological and tender. His hands didn’t linger in any place too long, but Margeaux’s skin was lit ablaze as it lingered. She could feel it burn down her arms, her back and even her legs. But it was only as his fingers reached the band of her bra that Margeaux held her breath. 

“Sometimes,” Anthony’s words were a mere whisper, “sometimes they like to hide here,” he explained softly. 

Margeaux nodded slowly, her throat too tight to speak. She didn’t give him the time to undo it himself. Instead, she reached behind her and unclasped the bra for him. She could hear it hit the floor, her eyes going shut at the sound, and she turned slowly to face Anthony. 

When she opened her eyes, Anthony’s face was a deep shade of red, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he reached out with careful, respectful hands, and he continued his search. He stroked along the impression the bra had left behind on her skin and caressed the underside of her breasts. 

It left her shuddering. 

Margeaux hoped he didn’t notice. 

“There’s nothing,” Anthony finally said, his voice soft as he met her eyes. 

Margeaux let herself breathe again, relieved. “Thank you.”

That should have been his queue to leave, for Margeaux to pull away and find her clothes, but neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke, either. They just shared a soft gaze. Margeaux’s heart pounded in her chest as she let herself realize a single face: The connection they had shared years ago was still there. She felt it; it was undeniable. Maybe he felt it, too. 

Margeaux reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm, and she watched his shoulders tense as his breath hitched. For a moment, it seemed like time stood still. The world outside their small quiet room was forgotten, and Anthony was dropping to his knees. 

“There’s one last place I can check,” he whispered, his eyes not once leaving hers. 

Anthony’s hands reached out, taking hold of her hips carefully. His thumbs stroked over the soft cotton fabric, moving back and forth so slowly it was almost painful. 

Margeaux squirmed in place, pressing her thighs firm together before relaxing at the feeling of him dragging the fabric down her legs slowly. The fabric teased her skin on the way down, sending Margeaux’s head lulling back and her eyes fluttering shut. She could only feel him then, as the careful touch of his hands found her inner thighs. He stroked the skin carefully, as if he were still checking for ticks, but then she felt his hot breath. 

She felt his mouth. 

Margeaux gasped, his kiss hot as it worked its way so close to the apex that her legs trembled. Anthony braced her legs with the strength of his arms, keeping her upright. It was enough to make her whine as she reached out with both hands, her fingers finding his dark curls to knit into. 

The simple touch drew him in closer, his hot breath ghosting over her sweet heat just long enough for her core to clench before he was guiding each of her legs over his shoulders. He picked her up with such effortlessness, his face pressed against her pelvis and her belly as he carried her across the room and laid her out on her half made bed. 

Its soft impact had Margeaux's eyes shooting open, taking in the sight of the ceiling as Anthony kissed a burning trail up her body and into her view. He hovered over her for a moment, his own chin slick with saliva, before leaning in and kissing her in a way they never had as teenagers. 

They had been so young and inexperienced back then. So eager and impatient to kiss, and to fuck, that the only feeling was one of ecstasy. But they were older now, grown up in so many more ways than just physically. Which was why she moaned when he did something as simple as stoking her skin and gasped when she felt two fingers press against her clit. 

They moved in a slow circle as he kissed her, her body beginning to coil with the pleasure of his touch. Margeaux’s breasts heaved as she threw her head back into the pillows, her hands tugging blindly at the fabric of his shirt, and his short, that she wasn't going anywhere without his help. 

Anthony eased back, tugging his shirt free first and tossing it aside. His hand dropped to his shorts next, but Margeaux was sitting up, her mouth taking its own assault on his stomach and abs. She could feel his chuckle on her lips before it left his laced in his words, “lay back, Princess.”

She melted away from him like chocolate, her body sprawling out and legs spread as he shimmied off the bed and discarded his shorts on the floor. He was gone so long, Margeaux felt cold, but when he returned, she pulled him closer and closer just to stay warm. Legs intertwined, and her arms reached around him so her manicure could claw at the strength of his shoulders as he eased into her. Her gasp was swallowed by his kiss as his hips rolled. Margeaux met his every tender movement as he remembered exactly what she liked and discovered more. It left her trembling with the climax of her pleasure as his one hand reached to cradle the back of her neck. His thick fingers knitting in her blonde strands, drawing her forehead up to rest against his. It was his tell. He was about to come. Margeaux grinned, her core coaxing him to the very peak of his pleasure, his mouth left gaping with a silent moan. 

They were both left smiling when they were through, Margeaux’s hands reaching out to stroke through his sweaty curls. Anthony was still buried deep within her as he turned his head just enough to kiss the supple skin of her palm. He was sweet, too sweet, and Margeaux almost hated it. He hadn’t changed a bit in the seven years they were apart. Yet, there she lay, feeling like herself for the first time in a long time. 

It left her dizzy as he rolled out of bed, her body anchoring itself to the blankets beneath her as if merely being void from him was going to leave her floating away. She lay there in the bed, listening to Anthony as he moved about the room. Margeaux didn’t know exactly what he was doing. She didn’t think to look, but as he turned off the lights, she was sure he had to be collecting his things so he could leave. But the opening and closing of the door never came. Instead, it was the squeaking of the springs to meet her ears as he crawled into her bed. 

Margeaux cuddled close to him, her head on his chest as she looked at the wall across from them. She could see that the firelight had died. Their friends had turned in for the night. There was no bonfire for them to run back to. With no obligations, they lay there together in silence, avoiding any heavy conversation they could have had. They lay with their bodies intertwined, Anthony’s hand stroking up and down the length of her back slowly and Margeaux’s head resting on his chest. There, she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, and it was the last thing she heard as she let herself drift off to sleep. 

Part Four.

The last morning at the cabin dawned with a bittersweet quiet. The sun cast a warm golden glow over the trees that cast sprawling shadows into the bedroom where Margeaux had regrettably spent most of her weekend. The first day she had isolated herself completely, spending day and night in the bedroom. The second day, she had let Carrie pressure her into the hike, and the second night she spent with Anthony. But waking up next to him, his warm skin still within her reach as the sun’s light shined down across his features left Margeaux wanting more. 

She wanted more time with her friends to take in the serene beauty of the forest that left her feeling like she was living in a dream. She wanted to learn how to chop up firewood, to forage or even to paddle board if she was feeling bold enough. But most of all, she wanted to spend time with Anthony. To continue playing her little game of what if they hadn’t grown apart all those years ago…

What if she had followed him to New York?

Would they have gotten married?

What if she had reached out when he had been traded to Vancouver? 

Would she have been the cheater instead of the one who had been cheated on?

What if they didn’t have to say goodbye? 

Would he even message her back if she tried?

Margeaux shut her eyes tight, fighting back the tears that began to build. She had come out there for answers, but she seemed to be leaving with even more. Yet, Margeaux answered the most important one she had: What comes next for me? 

The answer was that Margeaux didn’t know what would be next. There was no way for her to tell. Whatever she could imagine happening would be faced by too many unknowns caused by chance or by fate, would alter her course. There would always be a path she didn’t take. 

Margeaux let her tears fall in hot streams that lead down to the corners of her relieved smile. She tasted the salt of her tears with her tongue as she licked them away, only for the palms of her hands to come up to finish the job. 

Anthony rolled over in bed next to her, his hand coming down on her shoulder gently as he spoke, his voice heavy with concern, “hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Margeaux nodded, “I’m okay.”

They lay there for a moment, the silence heavy. Neither of them spoke, Anthony’s mouth on Margeaux’s shoulder just breathing in the very scent of her. And Margeaux hid her face in the pillows, her eyes shut tight and her chest aching. She wasn’t ready to leave - she wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 

But then, Carrie took the moment she had to do it away from her. She came bursting through the door with little care as to what Margeaux was doing. Eyes on her phone, Carrie was talking before she could even look at Margeaux and Anthony, who nobody knew she had taken to bed, “get up bitch,” she said endearingly. “It’s time to go home. Oh, and I have this for you, consider it a reward for playing nice with Anthony all weekend for me.”

She reached into the pocket of her daisy dukes and drew out Margeaux's phone. Carrie tossed it towards the bed, and her eyes following its course right to where it landed at Anthony's feet. 

“Oh, fuck!” she stumbled back as she shrieked, “I’m so - fuck - sorry!” 

“I’ll be right down!” Margeaux called out after her, her own voice weak with embarrassment. 

Margeaux hadn’t planned on being caught. 

Stumbling out of bed, Margeaux grabbed the clothes that were lost on the floor the night before, and shoved them into her never unpacked bag. She rummaged through it, grabbing a pale yellow sundress and polling it over her bare body. Then Margeaux did something she would quickly regret. She expertly grabbed every single one of her bags and left without even a glance. 

It wasn’t until she was standing at the trunk of the car, yet again in the predicament of trying to make everything fit, that Margeaux looked back at the cabin. She wore a soft smile, thankful that Carrie had convinced her to come, and it only grew as Anthony stumbled out onto the deck in nothing more than the same pair of shorts he had worn the night before. He hadn’t even stopped to put on shoes, which Margeaux was sure he regretted the moment his feet hit the gravel driveway. But that didn’t stop him from walking straight down the driveway to her. 

He stood close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, and smell the familiar scent of him without it having to get caught in the breeze. The air between them was thick with both humidity and the words left unspoken - anything they wanted to say, they had to say it now.

Finally, Anthony was the one to break the silence. “You all packed up?”

Margeaux almost winced. They had always had an effortlessness about them, but for the first time, it was as if neither of them knew what to say. 

“Yeah, just have to work the last suitcase in,” Margeaux gestured to the car before crossing both arms over her chest. 

There was another pause, filled by the rustle of leaves, the clamor of suitcases as they fell out of the trunk, and Carrie’s string of curses as she was left to play Tetris with the suitcases again. Anthony glances at her, trying to hide a smile as he leaned in one step closer to Margeaux and slipped his hand into his pocket. When he pulled it out, he was grinning ear to ear. “Well, I think you forgot this.”

Margeaux looked down, her face going bright red at the sight of her panties in his hand. “Anthony!” she spoke in a hushed whisper as both hands went to him. She pushed them back down, hiding the light cotton fabric back in his pocket. She let them fall there, loose in the fabric of his pocket, and pulled his hand free to hold. 

“I’ve had enough embarrassment for one day,” she smiled. 

Anthony laughed. Then he smiled as he spoke again, changing the subject as he did, “I’m glad you came… And I’m glad we got to spend some time together.”

Margeaux felt a heavy lump form in the back of her throat. One that she swallowed back with her smile. “Me too. It’s been… it’s been really good for me.”

Anthony took away the remaining space between them and captured her in a tight embrace. His arms were strong and comforting around her, and as much as she should have pulled away, Margeaux let herself sink into the hug. She held him, knowing that it very well may be the last time. She closed her eyes, trying to take a mental picture of the feeling of him, and listened to the steady beat of his heart harmonizing with hers. 

“Thank you Anthony,” her voice trembled as she buried her face into her neck, “for helping me find myself again.”

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. Nothing he could say could mean as more to her than what he had done for her in the limited number of hours they got to be with one another, and he knew that. She knew he did. She could feel it in how he held her tighter, in how his hand so gently stroked through her messy blond hair and down the length of her back. And when they finally pulled back, she could see it in his eyes, too. His gaze was soft and his eyes bright, but the smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes. 

Maybe he was feeling the same heaviness in his chest too–maybe he didn’t want to say goodbye…

“Take care of yourself, Margeaux,” he told her softly. 

“I will,” she promised, her voice heavy with the emotion she choked to the very back of her throat, “you too–and good luck next season, wherever you end up.”

Anthony nodded, and for a moment looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out with one arm and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered there against her skin for a moment, a soft barely there touch before he pulled back and smiled a little wider. This time, Margeaux saw it reach his eyes as he gave her one last lingering look before he turned and walked back up the steps, leaving Margeaux standing by the car as the trunk came down in a sudden thud as Carrie closed it. 

Margeaux jumped in place, her hand lurching to rest over her heart. It raced hard, pounding against the inside of her ribcage as her head snapped to look at her best friend. Carrie was grinning widely, devilishly. “Sorry, did I kill the moment?”

“Moment?” Margeaux’s voice broke. “What moment?”

Did she mean the moment she watched Anthony go, her chest heavy with the weight of their goodbye? Or the part of her that stood there, waiting to see if she herself would call out to him to extend their reconnection beyond their brief reunion in the forest. 

Either way, Margeaux would deny it all if Carrie asked, because she couldn’t even be honest with herself. It was easier that way. She wasn’t ready for another relationship, not now, not so soon after everything that happened. And Anthony? He was a comfort, a reminder of who she used to be when things were simpler, when love was just about date nights at the movies and the fairy tale worlds they thought would come after highschool. 

But so much time had passed, and as much as she still loved him, and always would, they would never be what they once were. Surely, they have changed too much, and the paths they were on led in different directions. 

“You got everything packed up?” Margeaux asked Carrie with a smile, “I need to get out of here. I don’t think I could survive another mosquito bite.”

“Yeah,” Carrie smiled as she moved to stand by the driver’s side, “so get your ass in the car and start a playlist.”

Margeaux's heart jolted with excitement. Her phone! She had her phone! Reaching into her back pocket, Margeaux brought her phone to life with the long hold of the power button. Carrie had kept the battery charged, and for that Margeaux was thankful. The itch to check her social media consumed her body as she got into the passenger’s seat, with Charlotte and Samantha both seated behind her. Instead, she opened her Spotify, put on Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan, and it became their soundtrack as the car pulled out of the drive. She dropped the phone to her lap as she moved along with the music in her seat. 

The buttons hit her lap just right, taking a screen capture of her playlist. Instead of letting it be, Margeaux picked up her phone and went to her gallery to remove it. It was there she saw pictures she had never known were being taken. A collection that started from the moment she had arrived at the cabin, right down to the very moment Anthony had taken her inside the night before to check her for ticks. Carrie had captured every little moment, and Margeaux hadn’t noticed, not even once. 

Margeaux’s lips parted in a wavering breath as she looked at Carrie in the driver’s seat. She was wearing a cheeky grin. 

“Thank you,” Margeaux smiled. 

“You’d do the same for me,” Carrie blew her a kiss playfully, “besides, it’s the least I could do for dragging you out to my booty call and actually getting laid!”

The girls in the back hollered. Samantha even reached around the passenger’s seat and nudged her playfully. But Margeaux paid no mind to it all. Instead, her eyes had found the rearview mirror, and watched as Anthony and the cabin grew smaller and smaller in the rearview until it was nothing more than photos on a screen.  

She had gone to the cabin with her heart broken, but as they drove away, she felt something new. A quiet strength, a sense of peace - she was healing, and it was because of Anthony. Smiling, Margeaux rested her head on the cool glass of the window, tilted just right to have the air conditioning hit her face just right and she put together a playlist that would carry them back home. To the city where she would forge her next path alone and Margeaux, she was ready to embrace it. 

TAGLIST: @equallyshaw , @mp0625 , @charles11700 , @swissboyhisch , @wingedwheelprxncess , @luvmarner , @fandomrejects , @misunderstoodwerewolf , @callsign-denmark , @puckmaidens , @cixrosie , @starshine-hockey-girl

[etoiile]

RAINY REDEMPTION

synopsis: your ex-boyfriend shows up at your doorstep, soaked from the rain and hoping for a second chance.

starring mikage reo!

genre(s): angst/comfort, fluff at the end, exes to lovers wc- 1.4k

notes: first time trying angst like this. hope you enjoy!!

the last person you had expected to see upon opening your door was your ex-boyfriend of 2 months, mikage reo. he stood before you, soaked from the rain from head to toe, wearing a sheepish smile that contradicted the unease in his eyes. "can i come in?" he asked, his voice laced with uncharacteristic hesitancy. "it's really pouring outside."

stunned and speechless, you merely gestured for him to enter, an invitation he swiftly accepted. as you darted wordlessly to fetch a towel, a tumult of thoughts stormed your mind, each raindrop that fell echoing a question.

what was he doing here? why was he out in the rain? he never ventured into this part of town. what's going on?

shaking off these thoughts, you handed him the towel. grateful, he quickly began drying his hair – the beautiful, fluffy hair you used to run your hands through, to which he'd almost purr as he melted into your touch. the hair that had been long enough for you to braid and accessorize, filling an entire album on your phone dedicated to the different looks you'd given him. it had been months since you last saw it, and now, with no explanation, it was in your apartment.

breaking the silence, you questioned, "what are you doing here, reo?" your voice, calm and level, carried a coldness unfamiliar to him. he disliked it greatly.

"i was taking a walk, and it started raining." he answered simply.

you knew immediately and without a doubt that he was lying. you knew him best, after all.

eyeing him, you demanded, "what are you really doing here?"

a chuckle escaped his lips. that low, boyish chuckle that still sent shivers down your spine. he scratched the nape of his neck before nervously joking, "you got me. you always did know when i was lying."

"what are you doing here, reo?" you snarled, a sharp edge to your voice.

panic and fear washed over his features before he blurted,

"i still love you, y/n."

you took a moment to process his words before your entire world began to spin before your eyes.

your heart pounded, and your vision got fuzzy. your knees went weak, feeling like they might give out. nausea hit you hard, and you wanted to faint, cry, and run away—all at once. it was like a rainstorm of emotions hitting you like a torrent, messing with your whole system.

"..no."

"no?"

"no!" you screamed, tears flowing. instinctively, reo reached out to wipe them away, but you slapped his hand away, making him wince.

"you cannot," you sobbed, "break my heart, tell me it's over, and not talk to me for months,"

reo's eyes began to water too.

"and then come marching back to me, and tell me you fucking love me, reo. no. you cannot do that to me."

"y/n," reo started, but you cut him off.

"i," you breathed through tears, "was just starting to get over you, to come to terms with the fact that you didn't want me around anymore."

by now, reo was freely crying too.

"and then you just waltz through my doorway to tell me you love me? are you kidding me?"

"y/n," reo tried to start again, coming as close to you as he thought you'd let him. "i'm so sorry."

"you're sorry? that's it?" you spat angrily.

"hurting you," he uttered, "was the greatest mistake of my entire life."

gently, he took your hands in his, relief washing over him when you didn't push him away.

"i did so much to tell myself that i'd be fine, that you were just another girl, and i'd find someone else." you almost rolled your eyes.

"but it wasn't true," he breathed. "not one bit. not even close. no one," he squeezed your hands, "could ever come close to you."

"i miss your voice. i miss your laugh. i miss waking up in the morning and seeing you smile. i miss spending time with you doing anything: cuddling and a movie, buying groceries, baking things, going to restaurants. y/n, i miss you so much my entire body hurts when someone mentions your name. i miss you, y/n, and i'm so, so sorry that i hurt you."

you're sobbing uncontrollably now, and his heart aches, knowing he's the one who made you this way. he'd always hated seeing you cry, but he hated it a thousand times more when he was the cause. he vowed to never make you cry like this ever again if you decided to let him back in.

hesitantly, he reached up to your face, fingers trembling with the fear that you'd push him away once more. luckily, you don't. you don't slap him, nor do you yell at him. instead, you let him tenderly wipe the tears from your skin, a silent ode to his love. it felt like a soothing melody in the midst of chaos, a gentle reassurance. you allowed him to cup your tear-stained face, a silent acknowledgment that, in this fragile moment, a sliver of hope had found its way into both of your hearts.

"y/n, i need you. the months we've spent apart have torn me apart completely. so much so that i couldn't even get out of bed to get to practice. nagi had to come get me out of bed, and that should really tell you something."

he winced as he observed your unamused expression, then took a deep breath.

"i know i can't change the past. no matter how much i wish i could, i will never be able to take back the harsh words i said. i will never be able to undo my horrible actions. i know i was a terrible boyfriend to you, y/n, but please. i love you. i know i need to respect your wishes and boundaries, but if you still love me too, i'm not going anywhere." he looked at you desperately, his purple orbs silently pleading with you. "do you?"

silence lingered, the air thick with trepidation. then, you broke down again, burying your head in his shoulder. "of course i do," you mumbled softly, sobbing. relief deluged his body, and his hold on you tightened ever so slightly.

"reo, i love you with every fiber of my being. i love you so much that i never stopped thinking about you for a single minute since we split. i love you so much it took all of my willpower not to jump into your arms the moment i opened the door. reo, i love you so much that it scares me." you confessed, your voice no higher than a whisper. if he hadn't been desperately clinging onto your every word and move, he wouldn't have heard it.

"then please. one more chance. we can make this work, i promise. i swear to you with my life that i'll be better. i'll make you happy. i'll do everything in my power to be the best lover you've ever had." he looks at you anxiously, trying to read your expression. "we can take it slow. ease back into it. but please don't give up on me, on us, just yet. im begging you."

in the quiet aftermath that followed his plea, a heavy silence settled. the air thickened as his words lingered, creating an atmosphere filled with uncertainty and anticipation. your contemplative gaze met his desperate one, and for a moment, time stood still.

"please, y/n. i need you."

you stayed silent for a bit, and he held his breath the entire time. his heart was beating so fast he thought it'd leap out of his body.

"ok." you finally sighed. "let's give it another shot."

elation, bright as the sun after rain, soared through his body as he engulfed you in his embrace. the warmth flooded all your senses as he squeezed you tight, never wanting to let you go.

"thank you," he whispered, tears soaking your shirt. "thank you so, so much."

a nod subtly affirmed, an unspoken acknowledgment of the gravity in the air. "yeah," you breathed gently, taking in what had just occurred. "it'll be ok. we'll be ok."

"i love you," he sobbed, the words pouring out in earnest. "i love you so, so much."

excitement and joy rushed through his body like a heavy downpour upon hearing the four magical words you next uttered:

"i love you too."

© 𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

[buccini555]

𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 — 𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

⊹ ｡ ﾟ⁖ Izana finds it extremely difficult to show feelings, but on a day when he was sensitive, he ended up confessing to you all the suffering he felt and how much you helped him overcome his problems and traumas, but he also confesses how afraid he is of you abandoning him

⊹ ｡ ﾟ⁖ x m a l e r e a d e r!

⊹｡ﾟ⁖ 𝐹𝑡. Izana Kurokawa

A cold winter day, the snow gradually covered the dry trees, Izana was sleeping while you were just reading a book in front of a slope, it didn't take long for him to wake up, then you noticed him going down the stairs, so discouraged, that weather, all that blizzard, you definitely knew that Izana remembered things that she maybe wanted to forget.

"Come here, Izana! Don't you want to lie on my lap?" You said, Izana just remained silent, resting his head on your lap and closing his eyes, so as not to disturb him, you just processed your reading.

"...It's good to have you here." Izana whispered, taking comfort in your legs.

"Hmm? It's good to have you here too..." You said cheerfully, until you noticed the tears in his eyes.

"Izana? D-don't cry, what happened?" You were definitely worried, since Izana refused to cry in front of you.

"I wish this suffering in my mind would stop, the memories, the feeling of being rejected, all of this will always haunt me, do you understand?" Izana said, getting up and hugging you, he definitely wanted to vent, those lines made your heart sink, knowing how difficult it was for him.

"I have a war in my mind and I just can't win it." Again, Izana said in a low tone, you just stroked the boy's platinum hair, making him as comfortable as possible.

"...If you hadn't saved me from myself, I don't know where I would be. You were the only boy who could love a mess like me." Hugging you more vigorously, he just let those words slip away.

"Don't talk about yourself like that, I love you anyway." You responded immediately, stating your feelings for him.

"It's a challenge to love someone like me, you wouldn't understand." Still trying to control his insistent crying, the blonde said in a tone of sadness and disappointment.

"I-Izana..." You didn't know what to say, hearing him speak so harshly about himself was something that hurt you deeply.

"I hate showing love, I hate showing feelings, I hate all of this... But, boy, I need to tell you how much I love you, even though it doesn't seem like it, you were the only person I had left and I still fear losing you." Izana confessed what he always wanted to confess, the fear of losing you had tormented him for a long time, since he was totally attached to you, he simply didn't want to feel the pain of being left aside again.

Just wait, you continued to give affection to Izana, you know that she would never abandon him whatever the situation.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for saying such nonsense." Izana spoke again, hiding his own tears.

"It's not stupidity, it's your feelings, I'm happy to know how much you love me, I will never, never abandon you." You said right away, caressing the brunette's face and making him open a small smile.

"P-please hug me as tight as you can, okay?" Izana asked gently, looking at you with those beautiful eyes as if you were a puppy.

"Right!" Hugging him, you responded again.

"You're such a sweetheart..." He said as he hugged you after finally calming down.

[storiesaplenty]

Goodbye Sunshine

Bridgerton family x sister!sibling

Bridgerton Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: death. Stabbing. Anguish. Sadness.

WC: 1543

From my previous account plentyoffandoms.

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Summary: Colin's twin sister saves Kate from being stabbed during a day-time robbery, but ends up dying in the process. This is the aftermath of that faithful day where the Bridgerton family lost a sister and a daughter.

I felt like I couldn't breathe.

The words of the priest sounded faint in my ears as I looked at the casket.

There were her favourite flowers everywhere, our mother and sisters making sure that there were as many as they could find.

Anthony was sitting next to our mother, who looked like she had no more tears left to cry.

His wife, Kate, was sitting between the two of us, looking at the casket, her hands over her pregnant belly, as her shoulders shook with her cries.

She is still blaming herself for what happened to our sister, but she is not to blame. Kate will never be blamed for what happened to my twin sister.

Kate and her were out shopping for the perfect gift for Eloise, as her birthday was coming upon as fast, and there was a book that our sister so desperately wanted to get her.

Kate, tired of being cooped up in the house, agreed to take her to go and get this book, as she was still unmarried, and therefore needed a chaperone.

I offered to take them both, but the two of them insisted that they shall not be long and will return within the hour.

I waited, and when it was 15 minutes past the hour mark, I knew something was wrong, as did Anthony. The two of us were about to grab our jackets, to go and find them when there an urgent knock on the door.

Him and I went to see what the commotion was, and I found myself looking at the tear-streaked face of one Mr. Albion Finch, brother-in-law of our brother, Colin.

"Mr Finch, what a pleasant suprise. Please come in. Has something happened to your wife? You look to be in distress." I said to him, concerned for the man.

"Please come with me. There is no time to explain." Was all he said, Anthony and I looking at one another before following Mr Finch.

We came upon a large crowd, with many of the women hiding their faces in their husbands chest, or the ones just staring, with tears streaming down their faces.

The crowd went almost quiet, as they saw Anthony and I. I heard two more people running towards us, and I heard Colin ask what was going on.

I looked back and saw that he was accompanied by Mr Harry Dankworth, his other brother-in-law.

"Anthony, Benedict, what is going on?"

We didn't have time to answer, as Kate appeared from the crowd, crying hysterical, as Genevieve was right behind her, her too with tears streaming down her face.

"What is going on?" I asked her, looking around for our sister, but then I noticed that there was a body laying on the ground, covered in blue fabric.

The crowd moved aside as I raced to see if it was my twin or not.

"Please stay back." One of the Bow Street Runners said. "He is her brother. They all are." Genevieve told the officer.

At that very moment, I collapsed on the ground next to her, moving the blue fabric from her face.

I made no sound as I saw her laying there, her eyes, the same colour as mine, looking back at me with no life behind then.

I cupped her cheek, hoping to feel something, but I her body felt cool.

"What happened?" I looked up at the officer.

"We must wait for her husband." He said as I stood up, ready to fight him, when Anthony stepped forward.

"Our sister is not married. I am head of the family, now please answer the question."

Kate spoke up at this point. Her focus only on our sister. "We just left the shop, her and I talking about Eloise's birthday, when we were approached by a man."

I listened as she continued to tell us what happened. He asked for some change, and my Kate gave him some, as did my sister.

He saw that they had money and pulled out a knife. He demanded their pouches, and they gave them to him, but he went to attack Kate, and our sister stepped in the way.

My twin was stabbed, and no one could get the bleeding to stop. I noticed at that moment that Kate was covered in her blood.

"I tried to save her." Were her last words, as she once again broke down in Anthony's arms.

Colin rushed home to tell our family.

I stayed by her side, never once leaving her. My hand holding hers, refusing that this was reality. I wished myself to wake up from this nightmare, her calling me silly for having such a foolish dream.

But I never woke up.

Not even when her body was moved to a cart to be transported to our family home.

Anthony, Kate, and I walked beside it. Many members of the ton were out, watching as the three of us walked beside the dead body of my twin sister.

As we turned onto our street, our mother, sisters, and brother were standing outside, with Lady Danbury, who always seemed to know what was happening in the Ton.

Our mother came rushing towards us, her focus on her oldest daughter, pulling the fabric back. Her screams of anguish forever etched into our minds.

She collapsed but Colin caught her. Our other siblings came joined us. Hyacinth, after seeing her, wrapped her arms around Gregory, who just looked at his older sister, anger came over his face. Eloise, and Francesca held onto me, while Daphne was holding onto Penelope.

I still couldn't believe that this was a real. Just yesterday, I was in her bedroom, just looking around. I found her journal, and I looked through it. Just hearing her voice in my head as I read it.

I was on her bed, looking at her sketches and drawings of our family and friends, and there were a few of her.

One even dated the before she passed. I was looking at the drawing, and that is how my mother found me.

"Benedict, what are you doing in here?" She asked softly. My mother was trying to be strong for all of us, but she did not need to be. "I am just looking at her work, and you Mother?" I asked as I sat on the side of the bed.

"I must pick out her outfit." She said as the tears streamed down her face. She opened the wardrobe, and she didn't move. Her face was just looking at the clothes that her and her oldest daughter got together.

"I believe she would like something in blue Mother." I said, as I stood up to find her favourite dress. When I found it, I pulled it out.

"She would be most happy with this choice. It was her favourite," Mother couldn't even speak anymore, her hand coming up to hide her face as she cried harder.

I placed the dress on the hook and brought my mother to her bed, letting her lean into me as we both cried for our lost sister and daughter.

"Hyacinth has a sweet idea. Did she tell you?" I asked mother, who nodded her head yes.

"I believe it is a wonderful idea, and she would love it knowing that we are always with her."

"Yes, as we say our final goodbyes before the casket closes, we shall place our letters with her." I did find it to be a nice idea, I just have no idea what I shall write.

As her service was over, I stood up to join my family for our final goodbyes. I looked around, and I was stunned to see how packed the church was. I could see that there were members of the ton waiting outside as well.

I let my siblings go first, ignoring the looks from Anthony and Colin.

I watched as each family member place a letter in her casket. We each agreed to keep our final words for our dear sister and daughter to our own hearts.

When it was my turn, I placed my letter next to her head, her hair matching mine, but with a pretty silk, blue bow now in it. I noticed it was frayed and well worn, and it was the one I gave her for our tenth birthday.

I had one another final gift for her, which I pulled out of my pocket. I unfolded the parchment, and gently lifted her hands to place the drawing underneath.

"Goodbye my sweet sister."

I stepped back as they closed the casket, never taking my eyes off of her until I couldn't see her anymore.

◆

We watched as she was lowered into the ground, throwing dirt atop her casket. I looked up at the beautiful clear sky, knowing my twin sister was looking down on all of us, with our father.

Holding the drawing I did of our family that I placed under her hands.

'Goodbye for now sunshine.' I thought of her childhood nickname I had for her.

As we left the cemetery, a butterfly flew in front of me, and I just knew it was her, with our family and me, always.

Tag list: @madhatterbri

[godihatethiswebsite]

Desert Oasis

✽ Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x f!reader (The Mummy AU)

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part 6 - Just a nice relaxing boat ride

So this one is a bit long guys ^^; To give you an idea, part 5 had a little over 2k words... and this one has over 9k. I swear, it was like every time I thought I was almost finished I went back in and added a little bit more.

I tried figuring out a way that I could cut it in half and not disrupt the flow of everything, but there just really wasn't a good spot for me to do it in so I'm just opting to leave it as is. It's also why this took me a couple days to finish so please forgive the wait.

Also I'm slowly but surely getting the hang of making everything aesthetically pleasing so bare with some of the changes going on with my blog!

You shuffled down the corridors of the ferry, giving polite smiles and nods to the individuals you darted past with Kyle trailing hot on your heels. On a boat that size there were only about fifty or so people in total - passengers and crew included. The trip was long enough to require a place to lay your heads down for the night, having secured as decent accommodations as you could for a vessel meant for commoners.

By the time you reached your stay rooms, you paused to find the door to your quarters already swung ajar. You didn't have time to process that entirely as your cousin brushed past you to take the lead, footsteps quiet as he dared a glance inside. His shoulders relaxed considerably as he took up watch leaning against the door frame. Whatever he found inside didn't seem worry him, but it certainly had you on alert once you heard a rustling noise coming from within.

Kyle halted you from taking your intended step further just outside the door with his hand up, eyes cutting sideways to give you a look at the huff you gave before returning to tracking whoever was rattling around inside your room. He lowered his hand and stepped to the side out of the doorway the same time John appeared from your room, flashing you an easy grin. "It's all yers, hen."

He placed a gentle hand on your arm as he maneuvered past you back into the hall, going one door down and to the left as he disappeared into what you assumed was the room the two men would be staying the night in. You gave your cousin a look of confusion as he ushered you inside, giving his own cursory glance around while you walked over to your awaiting luggage left at the foot of your bed.

The space was nothing to gawk at certainly; no finery of silken sheets or elegantly crafted mahogany furniture. It was a far cry from the abodes you'd spent your comfortable life in, but the modest quarters would be more than plenty for a single evening. You weren't highbrow enough to turn your nose down just because this wasn't the Mauretania.

"Is there a reason you just let a strange man root around my quarters, cousin?" You inquired while unlatching the trunk, beginning the process of unpacking and sorting out your belongings.

"Just precautions, dolly." He replied as he came to a stop in front of the modest sized dresser in your room, leaning back against it with his hands tucked in his pockets while he watched you flitter about putting things away in their proper places. "Didn't want you coming in here first to find an even stranger man waiting for a sweet doe-eyed thing like yourself to gobble up. Would have done it myself if MacTavish hadn't beaten me to it."

It gave you pause in the middle of the room as his words sunk in, clutching a small bag of toiletries. There wasn't anything even remotely admonishing in what he spoke, but you hadn't quite considered the possibility in your inexperience.

You were used to a certain way of living, full of servants and chaperones caring for your person. If you had need of something in a part of town deemed unsuitable for a lady such as yourself then you simply sent someone else along to run the errand for you. You'd been born fortunate enough that you hadn't had to lift a finger for anything you didn't want to. The 'real world' was a far cry different. Many a lower class woman had to be on guard for things you'd never had to imagine. It was just a small example comparatively, but the realization caught you uncomfortably unaware.

Despite that, there was a slight warmth in your chest at the thought that your newest traveling companion was chivalrous enough to look out for your well-being.

"Oh. Of course." You tried to brush it off with a small smile as you continued on your way into the attached lavatory beyond, placing the few items you brought with on the porcelain vanity. "I'll be more cautious in the future then, shall I?"

Kyle was waiting for you outside the door once you entered back into the bedroom, giving you a look akin to the kind your father used on you often when gently correcting you as a child, tone full of empathy and understanding. "Hey."

His hands landed on your shoulders, applying gentle grounding pressure that had you releasing a small sigh. "Aunt and uncle raised you to never have to worry about the kind of life the two of us," he nodded his head towards the other room where John was likely getting settled, "have experienced. This is a lot to take in for your first time out amongst the common folk. And it will take time. But there's nothing wrong with your naivety. Everyone has to start somewhere, yeah?"

He was right. Of course he was right. It was no different than the first time you picked up a book and were immediately confused by the jumble of hieroglyphics on the page. There might not have been a helpful dictionary on a shelf nearby teaching you how to navigate this new challenge (unfortunately), but you had a helpful guide in your cousin who wouldn't lead you astray.

"So don't you go worrying your pretty little head, dolly." He added with a lighthearted tone and an affectionate pinch to your chin, glad to see some of that self-consciousness ease from your expression. "You've got two strapping young lads keeping an eye out for you and helping you every step of the way. You'll be a proper adventurer before you know it."

He left you in peace after that, closing the door behind him to give you your privacy as you resumed your task of getting the room situated for your brief stay, hanging up your clothing in the provided wardrobe to keep them from wrinkling too terribly much and placing your odds and ends on the nightstand. You hummed a favored song as you busied yourself, feeling a bit more optimistic about your endeavor than you did when you'd arrived.

The plan for the first leg of the journey was to follow the river upstream until you reached the port city of Abydos, then essentially catch a caravan heading west into the desert until John said stop. The ferry ride would take the better part of two days to arrive at your destination, leaving plenty of time to kick back and sight-see until the real work begins.

You'd wandered out onto the promenade deck once you'd finished getting your room all sorted, leaning against the guard rail as a fresh breeze blew in off the bow. The ferry had left port not twenty minutes prior, but already the landscape had shifted into something only vaguely familiar.

You had not explored all of Cairo in the time you spent living there. It was nice to see the variations of Egypt's different cultures and ethnicities all converging upon the banks of the river. Arab, Muslim, and western elements weaved together along the shoreline. At the narrower points of the Nile when the ferry made way for a larger vessel, you could hear all manner of languages being spoken by merchants and fishermen on the docks; Arabic, Masri, Nobiin, Siwi, even the rare Armenian. You only speak the first two, but have heard enough of the others to at least identify the differences.

You imagined how these shores would have looked thousands of years ago at the height of the Egyptian empire - tall colorful sails as far as the eye can see anchored with the promise of freshly acquired goods, lighthouses dotting the coastline beckoning sailors home, large extravagant vessels belonging to the Pharoah's navy crucial for safeguarding these waters. The Nile has always been the lifeblood of the kingdom, the true source of power in the region with all that it provided for the people. He who controls the ports controls Egypt herself.

Much of the old architecture had been torn down centuries ago, new cities built on top of the foundations of the previous with none to bat an eye at the histories lost. You needn't look far to find an archaeologist digging at something long buried by layers of sand and dirt. Hell, if we had to stop construction every time we found relics underground of societies past then there'd be nowhere safe to build anything.

A stray fisherman's boat glides up alongside yours, an aging man with expressive lines around his eyes glancing up at the ferry floating past and spotting you leaning against the rail. He shouts something up at you in a Nobiin dialect you don't speak, but you offer him a bright smile and a wave he happily returns, steering his small craft out of your way and continuing on to wherever his destination lies.

For a moment, the peace you felt is interrupted by a tall man in a dark suit strolling along behind you, causing you to unconsciously tighten your grip on the rail until he was safely out of your periphery. You'd learnt a gentle lesson this morning that you were out in a world you didn't know the rules of. It was odd how you'd spent so much of your life being trained to enter into the machinations of society, yet here surrounded by working class people you felt more unprepared than ever. This boat was not filled with ladies giggling into their teacups and gentlemen enjoying their brandy; there was no grand dining hall or stately gatherings that called for decorum.

This was the 'wild west' as aptly demonstrated by the cowboys who'd kindly tipped their hats to you as you'd passed them by in the hall during boarding. That meant being aware of your surroundings and keeping even the pleasantest of company at arms length.

You'd abandoned your spot out on the promenade shortly after the sun hit its peak, venturing below decks when the bell was rung for mid-day meal. The ferry was small enough that you took lunch with the crew, grateful for your cousin's escorting hand on your lower back once he met back up with you, John's presence not far behind.

It was hard not to feel incredibly out of place once you'd sat down at a long cafeteria table and had a chance to take stock of the company around you, surprised to see only one other woman out of the whole crowd. Even she felt wildly different from you, dressed in similar western garb to the cowboys you saw hours earlier she was accompanying. You stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison, digging into the small but filling meal provided at a speed normally frowned upon in an effort to not stick around longer than necessary. You were aware of Kyle and John engaging in conversation next to you, but you were focusing too much on the food in front of you to pay any real attention to the subject. Kyle tried including you in their talks, but they must've picked up on your iffy mood and kept the chatter amongst themselves.

You spent a decent amount of time after that in your quarters (save supper time), nose buried in a book about some recent archaeological discovery until well after light stopped streaming in through your porthole. Feeling a bit restlessness from spending so much time in one attitude, you wandered out into the hall in search of your cousin for company, frowning at his empty room and making your way back upstairs.

The atmosphere up here was far more jovial, men crowded around tables smoking cigars and trying not to spill their tumblers over a handful of cards. This felt more familiar, reminiscent of your late father's evenings in the smoking room entertaining his guests with a couple rounds of poker. You weren't allowed in except at bedtime for a kiss goodnight. But on the rare occasion, you were allowed to stay seated on his lap. His 'good luck charm', he called you.

The scent of tobacco smoke had an oddly calming effect on you as you rounded a table housing your cousin and the three Americans, your sociable side starting to shine through again.

"I hope you aren't gambling away your inheritance." Your hand came to rest on the back of Kyle's chair as you stepped up beside him, taking in the empty glass next to him and the looseness of his shoulders. Your words were meant in good fun, but you made a mental note to keep an eye on his consumption. That likely wasn't the first scotch he's had tonight.

"Why use mine when I've got yours?" Came the cheeky reply, one that garnered him a chuckle from his companions and a light smack on the shoulder from you.

"You'll be happy to know, ma'am, that he's currently taking my partner here for every piece of copper he has." A dark skinned man with glasses spoke up, giving his friend a hearty slap on the back that had the other man sputtering out his drink.

"Well in that case, I best stick around to make sure my cousin here stays sober enough to keep it that way, shouldn't I?" You slide the half empty bottle of alcohol away from your cousin with a knowing look, receiving a relaxed shrug in response.

Yeah, definitely three glasses in.

"Do you happen to play, sweetheart?" The one who's apparently losing the hardest inquires while the woman at the table deals in a new hand.

"Not something I learned in etiquette class I'm afraid." Kyle had tried to teach you at one point, but you'd done miserably every time and he'd quickly abandoned the endeavor.

"Ah, we got us a true English high-born lady here fellas. Think we're much too outclassed for someone like yourself."

"Don't worry. She's already done that job for me." Gesturing over to the woman in question with a grin, the boys break out in laughter as their female companion tips her glass at you in respect.

"Well now, can't be havin' a lady standing at attention all night." The dark skinned man gets up off his chair and turns around to the table behind him, tapping a man on his shoulder with a sharp whistle and a 'beat it' that has him scrambling away. Positioning the chair between him and Kyle, he pulls it out for you with a respectful "ma'am" as you slide into the offered seat.

"Nice to see the men in America are still being brought up properly," you teased with a coquettish smile, folding your hands on your lap as the man sat back down.

"Just because we're men of the earth don't mean our mama's didn't raise us to be gentlemen. Speaking of which, I'm afraid we've lost our manners. Name's Darnell Hutchinson. This here's Osmond Ryan," he nods to the man next to him before gesturing across the table, "and that one over there is Rozlin Helms."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintances. Now then, shall we see how you fare when you 'put your money where your mouth is'?"

You enjoyed yourself a great deal more than you originally anticipated, banter flowing between the five of you easily as the night continued on. Roz in particular was a delight as the two of you ganged up on the other three men, glad to have some female company if only for a little bit. Kyle played quite well, though he did better once you'd refilled his glass with water instead of whiskey. Oz had to tap out after a few more hands, but Hutch was giving him a run for his money.

At some point your other travelling companion made his rounds above deck, stopping by the table. He'd unbuttoned the top of his shirt since last you'd seen him, looking just as casual as the others were after hours. You caught a brief suggestion of dark hair underneath, taking a sip of water and averting your gaze back to the cards being played.

"Ah, MacTavish!" Kyle called out once he noticed the man in question. Maybe you'd need to make him hydrate a little more still. "Care to join us for a hand of poker? Could use some backup with these yanks since this one here isn't any help." He added with a playful bump to your shoulder, eliciting a small giggle from you at his antics.

"No thanks, lads. Ah only gamble with mah life, never mah money."

"Well your buddy here seems to think ya'll are gettin' to Hamunaptra before we do. So what's say you and I make a little wager 'bout that?"

You frowned at your cousin who had the nerve to look normal at this drop of information. When had this come up? Certainly not since you'd been at the table. Was he really already that deep in his glass by the time you'd arrived that he was spilling your secrets?

John's grin turned tight lipped in response while still trying to play it cool. "That right? How're ye so sure the place even exists? Fer all ye ken we're jus' a couple o' crazies ourselves."

"Our man Klaus, that's who." Oz points over at a gruff looking man with an impressive beard. "Bit unorthodox of a man, but he's smart as a whip. Fortunately we've also got a guy who's confirmed its existence. Been there himself in fact. So looks like you three aren't so crazy after all."

You thought you'd gotten lucky stumbling into John when you did. What are the odds there were more people running around who'd seen the lost city? Surely they were bluffing.

Thankfully, this time Kyle was smart enough to keep his mouth shut on the subject.

"So what says you?" Hutch attempts to egg him on again, "Give ya something a little more interesting than just bragging rights."

John let's a wicked grin cross his face, one I'm sure feels quite at home on him. "Alright, lads. Since yer so eager ta part with yer coin ah guess ah could lighten yer pockets for ya."

"Hundred bucks?" Roz offers up with a smirk to sweeten the deal.

"Done."

You were surprised he'd agreed, but then again it's not like they knew just how evenly matched you actually were. Otherwise you don't think they'd have put the pot so big.

"Ah'll be lettin' ye get back ta yer game then. Garrick, lass." He nodded at the pair of you in turn before disappearing off to some corner of the ferry again - not like you'd seen him for anything other than meals yet today anyways. Odd considering he didn't quite seem like the type to prefer privacy over socialization. Though you suppose he'd probably spent time around your cousin in their shared space for some of it.

You stayed at the table long enough to make sure Kyle wouldn't be finding himself in even more trouble than he usually did, giving him an affectionate kiss on the cheek and a look that clearly said 'behave'. The others tipped their hats at you, friendly smiles as you said your partings for the night.

There were a handful of men arguing near the main stairwell that seemed heated enough that you didn't want to intrude, opting to go around to one of the side entrances on the promenade to reach your cabin instead. It was much quieter here away from the bustle going on near the bow, a welcome reprieve from the raucous behaviors of the men you'd just left. All you wanted now was to get out of these garments and curl up with your book before bedtime.

Just as you were reaching for the door leading inward, you caught a glimpse of someone at the far end sitting with their back to you, items laid out in front of them on a table you couldn't quite make out from this distance. The hair gave him away though, his dark brown...

Mohawk? Was that what Kyle had called it when you'd asked prior? Either way, it had gotten your attention.

He'd taken off his suit jacket, his white button up stretched across his shoulders doing nothing to hide the broad muscular planes of his back. You knew from previous experience with Kyle that the brown leather adorning him was a holster for pistols, one on each side by the looks of it. Strange to find him out here by himself rather than the privacy of his cabin. Perhaps he had been like you earlier and just wanted to catch a breath of fresh air now that the night sky brought with it a welcome reprieve from the heat. You hadn't even realized you'd been lingering quite so long, until–

"Mah front looks a might bit finer than mah back, hen."

You startled at his voice, lost in your own observances while thinking your presence had gone unnoticed. The man hadn't even turned around once! And considering how short his hair was in the back you were fairly certain you hadn't spotted any eyes there. Your face grew hot with embarrassment at getting caught staring.

"How did you know?" You ventured an ask despite the urge to suddenly hide back in the room you were initially headed towards. Mild curiosity kept you in place.

He still hadn't turned to look at you when he replied with an amused huff, "Easy, lass. Yer the only one on this boat wearin' heels."

You glanced down at the offending articles, growing even more flustered at such an obvious tell. The fact that he'd been paying enough attention to his surroundings to even pick up on it while still being fully engrossed in whatever task said a lot about the man.

"Could have lost them in a wager. With how inebriated Kyle is I'm fairly confident he'd slip a pair on."

"Ah've seen Garrick in women's clothes. Ye dunnae sound enough like a newborn foal fer tha' tae be the case."

So many more questions than answers popped in your head at that tidbit of knowledge, but you weren't sure that was a box you wanted to unpack right this minute.

Your feet took you over to John on their own volition, finding yourself standing adjacent to him while he still kept his gaze on his task. Laid out on the table was a leather carrying case unfurled with a variety of weapons and implements that were designed exclusively for the pain and suffering of others. Blades, hooks, ammo, shotgun shells; it was a veritable treasure trove of weaponry.

The man was spinning the cylinder of a revolver in his hands, eyes down the chambers inspecting for what you weren't sure. His sleeves were uncuffed and rolled up to the elbow, revealing thick forearms tanned from the sun and dusted with dark hair. You watched a vein pulse as muscle flexed and rolled under the skin, closing the cylinder and spinning it back into its spot in the holster. It took everything to draw your attention to one of the blades before his vision finally shifted upwards to look at you, picking up a small hooked object and examining it carefully.

"I'm assuming you have all this simply because it goes everywhere with you and not because you think you'll actually need it."

You were caught off guard by his response. "Ah dunnae ken wha' ah'll need, hen. But ah'll be needin' it fer somethin'."

You looked at him in cautious disbelief, not sure what any of this has to do with a simple expedition to some ruins. "I don't think a bunch of desert dwelling reptiles warrant this much protection."

He plucked the item out of your hand, placing it back in the bundle before grabbing the shotgun leaned against the rail next to him and loading the chamber.

"Seen enough ta ken there's more than lizards hidin' under those sands, lass. Trust me: ye'll be thankful fer all this once it pops its head up ta say hello."

"I don't know what my cousin has told you about me, Mr. MacTavish, but I can assure you I'm–"

"Johnny."

You blank for a moment at the interruption, gaze drawn away from his calloused hands to eyes blue as a desert oasis. You forget for a moment what it was you were just saying, resulting in a very ditzy, unintelligible response.

"...Huh?"

"Johnny." He repeats again, still not breaking whatever hold he had on you as the corners of his mouth quirked up a bit. "Ye can call me Johnny, hen. None o' that mister shite."

"Oh... alright."

He went back to polishing his gun after a moment, releasing you from whatever spell he had on you in the first place that caused your temporarily lack of bodily autonomy. You floundered to regain some of your previous dignity, hyper aware of your heart fluttering in your chest.

"As I was saying, I stopped being afraid of the scary stories Kyle would tell me by the time I was twelve. The only thing I'll be finding there is proof of the city's existence and the opportunity to step somewhere untouched by man in thousands of years."

"Sure, hen. And the fact that there's a solid gold book of Amun Ra fabled ta be buried within has no interest tae ya whatsoever." The skepticism was heavy in his tone as he began wiping down the barrel with a thin blue rag.

You don't know why that accusation stung a little to hear, but you're tone reflected that vulnerability despite not wanting it to. "Some of us just want the chance to prove that not everything we've believed is just the ramblings of a naive school girl full of silly little dreams and nonsense."

Whatever he detects in your voice has his gaze shooting up towards yours, expression completely neutral if not for a hint of something shining behind those eyes. It's gone in a blink, replaced by the seriousness he's been trying to impart to you during this conversation.

"Ye'll find the validation yer lookin' fer, hen. Jus' hope that's the only thing that finds ye."

He rolled his supplies back up in their leather container and secured it with a knot, shoving it back in his worn rucksack before pushing back his chair to stand at full height. The man towers over you, just about the same size as your cousin if not a hair shorter. There was no denying the bulk he had over Kyle's much more lithe form though. He made you feel small standing next to him, stocky frame close enough to yours you could feel the heat radiating off his chest. How this man kept taking away your ability to think cohesively you had no idea.

He looked for a moment like there was more he wanted to say until his attention was directed to something over your shoulder instead, brows furrowing in a way that had you glancing behind to see what had him distracted. Your search came up empty, turning back to look at him only to find the casualness you normally associate with the man.

"Run along now, hen. Got a big day tomorrow and ye'll be needin' yer beauty sleep."

Part of you wanted to push, confused at the sudden personality change before deciding that was not a thread you wanted to pick at tonight. Giving him a small nod and stepping around back towards the entrance, you didn't bother looking back as you returned to your quarters to settle in for the night.

You busied yourself with getting undressed from your day clothes and into the much more breathable fabric of your nightgown, thankful for the fashions of the era making it easy to dress yourself without the aid of another. You weren't always a fan of the currently popular drop waist silhouette, but at least stylists were designing clothes with the modern woman in mind.

Sitting in front of the mirror at your dressing table, you took in the image of the woman who had made it this far in life.

Mother had launched you into society almost a decade ago, a prospect that had initially excited you back in your youth. You'd been full of such enthusiasm and optimism in the days following your coming out ball, but even the sands of Egypt were not far enough away to be immune from the Great War. Once Britain declared war on the Ottoman Empire and proclaimed a protectorate over the nation, the young men went off to defend distant shores - your cousin amongst them. It was a painful thing to overhear whispered conversations between your parents of family friends grieving over the loss of their sons and heirs, remembering their smiles when you'd giggled at their flirtations.

Sometimes it felt like all the boys you'd ever danced with were dead.

The country suffered the after effects for years to come, the men returning home no longer with the bright sparkle of youth but the weariness of those who wouldn't dare speak their stories. In a lot of ways it was not just the end of an era, but a new world entirely after that. Things that seemed of great importance suddenly had little meaning. Balls, etiquette, matchmaking - high society still existed and your family had still been members, but once you'd reached your twenties they accepted their daughter would not be a traditional heiress anymore and were content to let her be her own woman. It did not stop your mother entirely from suggesting suitable partners (nor did you turn down the chance to have a future full of love), but she'd been supportive of you up until her and father passed.

Strange to think where you might be right now if humans had only been kinder to one another. Which lad buried in an unmarked grave might have been your husband?

Running the boars head bristles of your hairbrush down through your ends, your attention turned back to the former soldier you had just left behind a few minutes ago. You didn't actually hate the man; there were no true ill intentions in your words towards him. Even your 'stables' grumbling from earlier this morning had been born more out of an annoyance at your cousin than anything. Sure, you would have felt better going on a journey with someone who'd been a bit more upstanding than previous circumstances suggested, but John– Johnny – was also a long time friend of Kyle's and his word held a great deal of weight with you.

And yes, you weren't quite that out of tune with your emotions enough to deny that there was something about him you found strangely appealing. You could readily acknowledge that he cut quite the attractive figure and your eyes were more than happy to drink in such a sight. There had been a small handful of times over the years where you'd initiated a short courtship with a suitor, but for all the dashing young men of good breeding in their smart tailored suits and gentlemanly auras, you'd could safely say their good looks and pleasant smiles hadn't quite tilted you off your axis the way Johnny did.

Part of you was still being stubborn about it though. This was certainly not the time to be filling your head with such frivolity towards a man you knew enough stories about to grasp he was a troublemaker. You couldn't let this distract you from the real reason you all were out here in the desert in the first place.

You set the brush down harder on the vanity than you'd originally meant to, watching it clatter off the table and come to a stop next to your foot. Letting out a small sigh of weariness, you rubbed the bridge of your nose with your fingertips before bending to retrieve the item, opting to stand instead of sitting back down now that you were finished with your nightly pampering rituals.

The reflection that met you in the mirror was not yours.

There wasn't any scream. You didn't reach out and attack the man in self defense. You froze, plain and simple. The flash of a blade at your neck made you obedient, body allowing itself to be manhandled up against the wall. A man in black robes held your gaze, strange markings tattooed across his skin and under his eyes that glared at you in warning. Your mind was too addled with shock to understand why his attire seemed so familiar.

You'd expected more of a reaction out of yourself, this being the first true taste of danger you'd ever experienced.

But fear became a tangible, living force that crept over you like some hungry beast, immobilizing and seizing every breath remaining in your lungs. Your mouth flooded with the taste of iron, the surge of adrenaline doing more harm than good as your vision went blurry and your hands shook from their spots gripping into the seams of your nightgown. Everything in your life funneled down to a moment of awareness of the sharp pinprick of the blade under your chin. How easy it would be to shove it up into your skull...

"Where is the key?" It was a hard voice; one spent years speaking a rougher language than the English he conversed with you in. You almost didn't even hear it over the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears.

Burning tears welled behind your eyes, a silent sob stuck in your chest. Every atom in your body screamed at you to run, but you trembled from the effort it took to remain standing and still. One wrong move and your blood would flow like the first plague of Egypt. Death was not a friend you wanted to meet yet.

You were aware of the deadly pressure digging in slightly with each movement of your jaw, imploring you to answer truthfully, but all it did was add to your growing panic as you realized with dread that you had no idea what it was he was asking of you.

The noise that came out of your mouth at first was more akin to a small ragged exhale, throat dry as parchment keeping you from speaking words until you forced yourself to swallow.

"I-I don't..." Your voice felt trapped, genuine confusion bleeding through the terror as you unconsciously shook your head. "I don't know what that is..."

"THE KEY! " His voice raised in anger, triggering a small scream of fright from your lips as your eyes closed instinctively, shrinking back away as far as you could with his hand gripping your bicep.

Oh god. You were going to die. You didn't have the answers he wanted and now you were going to die.

The door to your room broke open with a loud resounding BANG, wooden fragments splintering off from where it was kicked free of its lock. You yelped as you were dragged backwards against a firm body, your captor positioning himself behind you for leverage as Johnny crossed the threshold into your room. His eyes were trained on you, brandishing pistols in both hands as he skirted around the broken debris. What a sight you must have made; eyes bloodshot, tear tracks down your face, shaking like a leaf, clad only in a thin nightgown that went to your knees and left nothing to the imagination.

Johnny's eyes were hard, but they were there, holding you in place with a promise of 'I will get you out of here alive'. And you believed him.

"Let 'er go." It was eerie how calm he was, his voice even without a hint of waver. Standing in front of you was a soldier who'd looked death in the face and fought him bare handed, calm and steady and sure of his every move. Even when the man holding you prisoner tightened his hold on you and dug his blade into the flesh of your neck, Johnny didn't bat an eye. The only sign he gave was the brief glint at your whimper of pain.

Movement at the corner of your eye pulled your attention towards the open window to your room, a sign of the intruder's entry that you must have missed while lost in your own thoughts. But it was the person stepping into view on the other side that had made you look this time, mid arm raising the pistol at his side that he never got the chance to fire. You watched as three bullets hit his chest in quick succession; three deafening bangs from Johnny's own firearms that had you clapping your hands over your ears at the noise. You didn't even have time to process seeing a man get murdered right in front of you when another came up to take the place of his fallen companion. Johnny moved with purpose, darting to the right to avoid the gunfire while returning a barrage right back at him.

In the all the chaos, one of the two men landed a shot on the oil lamp burning on the table, shattering the glass container and spilling fire all over the floor. The fibers in the rug quickly started to catch, winding like ivy up the side of the wall to consume the curtains and continuing to spread outwards.

Some small part of you with self preservation reached out to the vanity next to you and grabbed the nearest item, hand wrapping around a vial of perfume and smashing it backwards into his face. You'd gotten lucky enough that the glass broke on impact, sending shards of it alongside burning chemicals straight into his eyeballs.

The robed man howled out a rough anguished cry, relenting his hold on you to claw at his damaged flesh as you threw yourself away from him. Johnny was immediately there to reach for you, pulling you into his side with one arm as the other kept on firing. All you wanted in that moment was to cling to him and let him protect you, but with the fires rapidly taking over every inch of the space and the robed men still coming you needed to escape and fast.

You were pushed behind him as he herded you out into the corridor, providing cover for your escape and finally needing to reload. For a brief moment as you were running down the hallway, there was a nagging thought in the back of your head that you'd forgotten something, but compared to the risk on your life it was discarded quickly in favor of paying attention to your surroundings.

Johnny took the lead, you keeping close behind as the pair of you found your way back above deck. You'd been grateful not to run into any other combatants along the way, but taking a step outside had you eating your words at the chaos unfolding in front of you.

It wasn't just your dwellings that caught fire. The entire vessel was ablaze with more than a dozen black robed men running around hurling torches through broken windows and dragging them through anything flammable. Men climbed down from the guard rails and jumped off the edges, abandoning ship down into the dark waters below. Your breath caught in your chest at the hellish landscape, too caught up in the savagery to notice as Johnny pressed you back against the wall out of view and began unloading into the men firing down on the passengers from above.

So much mayhem and bloodshed. And all for what? Some stupid key?

That's when it hit you: the metal box. It was still in your room.

"The artifact!" You all but shouted as you turned on your heel to head back the way you came, halted by an arm hooking you around the waist and tossing you into the wall with a small oof.

"I'll get ya another one!" Johnny all but growled out as he kept his attention facing the enemy, ducking around the corner to return scattered gunfire only to hide again as they took shots at the spot he just occupied, aiming through the walls to try to get to him and blasting holes in the wood. One came particularly close to his head, grumbling out a curse in what you assumed was Gaelic going by the gruffness of the words.

"If I don't bring that back with me than I'm as good as dead!"

Some would argue you didn't have your priorities in order considering the extreme amount of danger you were currently in. They'd clearly never met Dr. John Price.

You didn't have time to make any more objections before you were on the move again, dodging around overturned tables and flaming fabrics, screaming as bullets whizzed by your bodies with a holler from Johnny to just keep running. Your lungs burned from all the exertion, coughing as the wind blew smoke into your face and down your airways. Where the hell was Kyle in all this?

You get to the side of the boat, catching your breath as you stare around wide eyed for your cousin. Your thoughts are interrupted by your companion, too busy to pay him any real mind. "Ye swim, lass?"

"Very poorly." There hadn't been much occasion to growing up. You'd learned when you were young, but being in deep water as a child made you uneasy and your parents hadn't taken you often enough to really improve.

The implication of his words was completely lost on you right up until the point your legs were suddenly swung out from underneath you and you were being hoisted into his brawny arms. You never even got a chance to question it as the feeling of your stomach dropping was your only hint at being unceremoniously dumped over the bow into the Nile.

You'd shrieked on the short distance down, water invading your mouth from lack of warning as your eyes closed on instinct. The river was mildly temperate, still warm from the day's sun but not yet chilled from it disappearing over the horizon. Your body panicked for a moment as it tried to right itself underwater, unable to distinguish up from down with arms flapping wildly until you at last broke the surface, limbs struggling to keep you afloat while you sputtered out the liquid in your mouth.

Turning your gaze upwards, you saw Johnny lifting himself up over the rail, one boot perched on the side ready to vault over. You didn't have a chance to warn him, screaming as he was hauled backwards and out of sight.

"Johnny!" There was fear and desperation in your voice, worried for his safety and helpless to do anything about it.

Your head bobbed back down under the river, the crashing waves from the ship making an already hard task even worse as you popped back up with a gasp. You still couldn't see him from your vantage point, a tightness in your chest as you cast your gaze around you instead to focus on your own survival. You didn't know which way to go in your panic, seeing most of the other passengers heading for the far shore. Then there was the problem of the steady current trying to drag you further upstream. It wouldn't be impossible to others who were stronger swimmers than you, but the adrenaline was wearing off and the fatigue coming in quick.

You didn't know if you could make it.

Yelling out in frustration as you swam the other way, you begged and pleaded with your body to not give up on you just yet.

You got about halfway to the riverbank, forcing your muscles to go as far as they could and feeling the intense strain from the demand you were putting on them. If this was a lake things might have been different; you'd spent time in those back in England visiting close family friends and relatives. You'd never been taught proper form and even then you hadn't swam as far out as the others had, opting to stay nearer to the shallows where you could still enjoy a refreshing dip in safety. Water was easy when it wasn't fighting against you.

"Please, God, please..." It was hard to tell if your vision was blurry from the heavy tears in your eyes or if your body was just giving up, too tired to carry on. Your throat was choked up from crying and swallowing so much river water, doggy paddling to stay afloat as your strength began to fail. It was getting harder and harder to keep from submerging.

"Help me..." You begged out to empty air, the only sounds being the distant cacophony of the crowd on the far side of the Nile and the burning wreckage crackling and spitting as she sinks. The shoreline was still too far off for how much energy you had left.

You were alone. Completely alone.

You were going to drown.

You were exhausted; head tilted back as you let your body's natural buoyancy do the work you no longer could, breathing hard as you blinked up at the stars sparkling back at you. You tried to keep your legs kicking with what little you had left, but you were spent and struggling to keep your face above the surface. It was only a matter of time.

Drowning was an awful way to die, taking a deceitful breath of air and choking down to a watery grave. Would your cousin even find your body or would it be condemned to the service of fish food?

"...please... I'm scared..." came the whispered broken admittance, resignation seeping into your bones. It was just you and the inky darkness as the inevitability of your demise drew near, the only solace you could provide yourself was the gentle reminder that very soon you'd finally be back in the comfort of your mother's arms once more.

Your name broke through the air, stabbing you in the chest and robbing the air from your lungs. You almost stopped swimming from the shock of it, eyes blown wide as you screamed back his name in a mixture of hope and desperation: "Johnny! "

You spun wildly even though that only cost you precious energy, as you saw a figure heading towards you in the near distance. Long arms made broad strokes that carried him in your direction, prayers miraculously answered by whichever deity deigned to show you mercy.

"Johnny I can't–" you swallowed a mouthful of water as your legs gave out, sending you sinking under the surface.

The pressure from the water's current made it hard for you to pry your eyelids apart - not that it would have made very much difference considering there was not but shadows in the depths. Your hands clasped over your nose and mouth, pinching them tight in an effort to keep the air in your lungs for as long as possible. You hoped Johnny was a strong swimmer, a cramp in your legs keeping you from trying anymore.

'Hurry...' the voice inside your head whispered, lungs burning after countless moments spent floating in darkness.

You could make it. You had to make it.

Hands grabbed at you right as your lungs succumbed to the need to take a breath, mouth open in a silent gargled scream as you clawed at your throat instinctively, convulsing as your body tried to violently expel the liquid drowning you to no avail. What must've been seconds felt like torturous hours as a force pulled you upwards, agony as you sped towards the surface.

You coughed up the water in your system once you breached and hit air again, lungs wheezing from the intrusion as a sturdy arm caged you in to a well-built chest, supporting you with one as he used the rest of his strength in the other to slowly maneuver towards safety.

"Ah got ye, hen. Ah got ye. Jus' hold on tight tae me, yea? There's a good lass."

You could barely keep your eyes open as he swam you both the rest of the distance to shore, pushing you forward to reach the sand first and helping you crawl up onto dry land. You collapsed in a heap, the nightgown stuck to you like a second skin, hair long and stringy like limp seaweed. The sand was abrasive on your face from where your cheek was smushed into the ground, sprawled out on your stomach while your brain grappled with the fact that you were still somehow alive.

Johnny was half draped over your back, breathing hard from supporting the weight of both of you even as he ran his hand across your back with gentle shushing noises to help settle you and your errant tears. He brushed the hair away from your face, blinking down at you with a look of concern for your emotional and physical well-being. He looked just as waterlogged as you, though he at least had the dignity of having saved your life.

"Still with me, hen?"

You nodded weakly, hand shakily reaching up to rest over the one he still had near your cheek and grasping it with barely any strength. You hoped despite how wrecked you felt that he could see in your eyes how unbelievably grateful you were to him for his actions tonight. "Thank you..."

He nodded back at you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze in response before resuming the comforting gesture on your back. The pair of you stayed like that for a few minutes, you still trying to gather your bearings while Johnny scanned the landscape, taking in the other passengers still scrambling up the riverbank on the opposite side while keeping an eye out for one person in particular. Once your head was on straighter, you came to the same conclusion as he had: you were missing someone.

You pushed yourself up on shaky arms, scanning the area as the familiar pull of dread once more tugged in your chest. "Where is he? Where's Kyle?"

Your companion gave no answer, face kept intentionally neutral in a way that only made the contents of your stomach churn even more. You tried to get your legs up underneath you to make it to your feet, but a firm hand on your back kept you down to conserve your strength. "He's comin', lass. He'll be comin'."

You weren't entirely sure if he believed that.

"Kyle!" Your raspy voice rang out through the still of the night, pleading for a response. "Kyle!"

"Garrick! " Johnny joined in, throwing his own bellow into the mix that was a great deal stronger and more capable of being carried on the wind than yours.

You called out again, practically sobbing in relief when a faint answering cry came back somewhere to the left of you. Swiveling your head in the direction of the voice, you saw the familiar visage of your cousin jogging down the beach, looking no less worse for wear than the two of you were.

"You two certainly made it a good distance upstream. Been hollering for ya back there." He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder towards the way he came. You were glad for the lightheartedness of his tone as he approached, even as he looked you up and down trying to assess the condition you were in.

Johnny stood from his spot over top of you to clasp arms with him, pulling each other into a hug with a hearty slap on the back. "Fer a moment there ah thought ye might've made friends with a bullet."

"Went looking for you two, found a trail of dead bodies instead. Might've been one of them if not for those scrappy Americans tearing up the place like a dance hall."

He swung something he'd been carrying off his back, depositing it at Johnny's feet with a soft tap of his boot. You recognized it as the worn rucksack containing all his ammo and armaments. He must've left it on deck back where you last saw him. "You'll be happy to be seeing this I'd wager. Couldn't go back for mine on account of the whole everything was on fire situation."

Johnny barked out a laugh of delight, kneeling down to start rucking through it while Kyle sidestepped around him to kneel down next to you. Carefree expression turned worrying as he took in your trembling form, caught off guard at the way you managed to throw yourself into his arms. His embrace was a balm to your soul, hold tightening around you as if he needed this almost as much as you did. Placing a firm kiss to your temple, you felt like you could finally breathe for the first time since this night started.

"Let's not do that again, shall we?" There was a bit of forced laughter in your words in an attempt to not appear as fucked up as you felt, voice partially muffled from where your face stayed buried in his shoulder.

"I'll keep that in mind for our next adventure." He pulled back for a moment to give your face a proper inspection, searching for any sign of hidden damage. "Not hurt are you, dolly? Had me worried when I couldn't find you onboard."

You shook your head before closing your eyes, resting your weight against him again. "Johnny found me in my chambers once the fighting broke out. Saved my life more than once tonight."

From your vantage point, you missed the look Kyle gave him in response, a firm understanding passing between the two that needed no words. They both were pulled out of it by the quiet brokenness of your own.

"It's gone... all of it. Our belongings, the equipment. My clothes." Just because you were in a desert didn't mean things stayed warm after the sun went down. A light breeze wafted the air, sending goosebumps down your still dripping wet form, very aware of how thin this nightgown was as you crossed your arms over your chest in an effort to maintain some modesty.

"Ye jus' leave that part tae us, lass. Dunnae worry a hair on yer bonnie wee head."

"Hey MacTavish! " Your conversation was interrupted by a far off unknown voice with a thick American southern accent, turning your head to peer through the darkness and locating a figure standing apart from the others where everyone was gathered on the opposite bank of the Nile. Johnny stood up from his position hunched over his pack, walking towards the water's edge at his summons.

"MacTavish! It looks to me like I've got all the horses!" It was hard to tell from this distance, but he had his arms spread wide with what you knew by his tone had to be some sort of smug shit eating grin on his face. Real mature, gloating at a time like this.

You felt an inkling better once your Scottish companion opened his mouth and belted back with a similar smirk. "Hey Graves! Looks tae me like yer on the wrong side o' the river!"

There was a pause as the words were processed. You couldn't be sure, but you swore you heard a faint curse as the man kicked the water, turning on his heel to clomp back to his fellows while barking out orders too muffled to be understood.

As Johnny rejoined the group, the three of you mentally took stock of the situation and everything that was now lost at the bottom of the Nile. At least you'd ended up on the western bank and didn't have to deal with the headache of crossing again. But you still had a long journey to go.

"So what happens now?" You spoke up from your spot still within your cousin's hold, glancing between them with such uncertainty and hoping for some reassurance. "Where do we go from here? The next port is at least twenty miles away and I can't cross the Sahara looking like this."

"We'll stay here for a bit longer while you get your strength back, maybe camp here for the night. Then we'll head south along the river where we will hopefully stumble across a caravan and get our missing supplies sorted out." Kyle's words were helpful and gave you some confidence that there was enough experience between the two of them to get you out of this debacle in one piece.

You could only trust that whatever bit of bad luck you just endured was the worst of what this expedition would bring.

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[lovelytsunoda]

crying over it all // clement novalak

summary: there are few things in this world more mortifying than failing your drivers test when everyone else your age has a license. it’s made even worse when your boyfriend is a racing driver

pairing: clement novalak x female reader

warnings: reader fails her driving test, which leads to significant self loathing, clem is just trying to be supportive and god I need someone like him right now

authors note: guess who failed her drivers test 🙃 I’ve rebooked it but now I have to commute by way of three buses to my college campus :( and don't even get me started on field placement...i wish i had never left it this long but at this point i need to trust to process and find some sort of way to move past it.

“I’m sorry, but you will need to retake your road driving test. I understand that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you need some more practice. you can see the full list of mistakes inside.”

it had been twenty minutes since she’s heard those words, and she still felt shaky on her feet. her hands had shook and tears fell down her face as she went inside, taking a number and waiting in a notoriously long dmv line to admit to the woman at the desk that she needed to rebook her test.

she didn’t want clement to see her like this, utterly defeated and trying not to scream her lungs out as she watched four teenagers in line in front of her get their licenses.

she was twenty one, for god sakes. she should have been driving by now.

she was sitting on the wooden bench, slouched I gracefully and letting the tears fall as she played with her car keys when clement found her.

what was the point of even owning a fucking car if she couldn’t drive it?

“oh, love." clem frowned, feeling his own stomach sink when he saw how distraught she was. "i take it that things didn't go well."

"could you tell?" she sobbed, trying to wipe her eyes. "was it that obvious? i hate myself, clement. how is it that i can't do something that pretty much everybody my age has been able to do since they were sixteen."

his heart ached as he heard her words. he'd passed his test on the first try, and he drove things for a living, so he's never really thought about what it must have been like for her, having to bum rides off her friends and family or to be bound to the transit schedule. while she was in college, it hadn't been the biggest deal, although it was a minor inconvenience. now that she would be working full time, the stakes were higher.

"i'm sorry, pretty girl." he frowned, pulling her closer, allowing her rest her head on his shoulder. "but you can take it again, and you know what you did wrong, right?"

"i start work next week, clem. i've looked up the commute and if i take public transit, it's almost two hours each way. and i feel like i'm a burden by constantly asking people for rides, or telling them that if they can't pick me up, we can't hang out. hell, my mother had to drive to my first date with you!"

clem chuckled at the memory, the image of a frazzled y/n stepping out of her mother's suv and frantically scanning the parking lot for clement. moments later, her mother had insisted to getting out of the car and introducing herself to clem. y/n thought that she would combust then and there.

"your mother loves me!"

"yeah, but imagine being a grown-ass adult and still having to get your mother to drive you to appointments because you don;t want to chance the bus route not aligning with your appointment time? i feel like my grandmother, and she's ninety, clement. she had her license revoked because she has cataracts."

"i know it hurts right now, but you are never a burden, y/n. your friends love having you in the car when they drive. hell, i feel like i drive better when you're next to me. i don't mind driving you places, you know. it means that i get to spend more time with you."

she smiled at the gesture, turning to allow clem to cup her chin and wipe some of her tears away. her face was flushed, eyes red and puffy. she couldn't shake the idea that she might have made a scene inside the testing center.

"i know. i just wish i could be more independent. transiting gives me so much fucking anxiety. i went over the curb when i three=point-turned and an old lady on a mobility scooter started yelling at me."

"but you never go over the curb."

"exactly! i think i was nervous, when i practiced the route with my dad, there were never any cars on the road. and i think after that happened, i got into my head and it screwed everything else up. i'm such a fuck up. i feel like i've let everybody down, especially you, since you helped pay for my fucking car."

'"hey, hey, don;t talk like that. you'll get it. i promise you. you know jenson button didn't pass his road test on his first try, right?"

she snorted, sitting up straighter, but still clutching clem's hand. "did he really?"

"yeah, and i think lando failed as well."

"yeah well, i've seen how lando drives. that doesn't surprise me at all."

having a laugh seemed to help, and at least now if people mwere staring at her it was because of the f2 driver sitting next to her, not because she was a grown woman who still couldn't drive and decided to cry about it, and then fling her keys onto the grass.

"i have some plans i might have to move around, and then i need to call my parents, and then my dad can take me out to practice a bit more but i have to trust that when i take it again in october, something goes right. because i know exactly what i fucked up."

she moved to get up from the bench, clm following closely behind as she shamefacedly handed him the keys to her volkswagen. well, the volkswagen now, since she couldn't drive it without someone who'd had their license for five years present.

"i'm proud of you for trying. i know that this was something you put off for a long time because of your anxiety, and even though it didn't work out, at least you tried." clem encouraged, his arms comfortably slung around her shoulders as she laced her fingers with his. "hey, it could be worse. you could have had your dad drive you here."

"clement, don't even joke!" she laughed. "you know that i hate taking transit, and that i don't always feel safe going places alone."

"i know. and if you ever feel unsafe, or too anxious to function, or just like you want to see my gorgeous face, call me. as long as im in the country, i will come and get you. and if im not, i'll send someone i trust."

"like who? max fewtrell? his driving is worse than landos."

clem snorted. "i meant ria. or pietra.

"thank you, clement." she sighed, leaning into him as he unlocked the car. "i love you."

"i love you more, pretty girl." he kissed the top of her head softly. "it will all work itself out, love. just you wait. and then you'll be the one driving me places."

TAGS:

@httpiastri @magnummagnussen @oconso @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @clemswrld @love4lando

[little-bloodied-angel]

This morning I woke up and my right leg was screaming. The pain was so intense and brutal it was what woke me; I had to sink my teeth into my pillow and scream, too. Every cell from hip to knee is (yes, still) burning, liquid acid going through my veins; and the calf is strained and cramped and protesting the extra work as hard as it can.

I still had to use the bathroom; when I tried to stand up it buckled, like a lightning bolt went through it, and I went to the floor. Even just rotating in bed to get out was agonizing on my hip. My foot was numb, full of pins and needles for lack of proper circulation.

I limped there, dragging my leg behind, supporting my weight on the wall and gritting my teeth. The process of sitting down and standing up almost made me black out.

Over the sink, I looked at myself in the mirror and willed myself not to cry. When I came back into my room I caught sight of my medications on my bedside table, the myriad of pills I'll be taking for as long as I live. The Tramadol on top of them was mocking me, and I did cry then.

I remember everything my body could do. I remember flying. I remember the fall, too, the agonized animal screams that seemed to come from outside my body, the brutal audible SNAP of muscle and tendon, the bone against the hardwood, the hushed whisper-shouts of "get help -she can't move -she can't walk -god, her leg!"

The doctor's office and his placid smile as he told me I was "lucky" because my ACL didn't require surgery at the same time he delivered my death sentence, or what may as well been.

"A career in ballet is no longer an option for you".

I know he didn't understand how people who dance with the goals I did live and die for that dancing. He thought I was young and I'd find something else to do. I was young and a part of me died in that accident and I had to bury it.

I remember a different doctor, a different office, her worried face scanning my psychiatric history like she thought I'd kill myself right in front of her because of the diagnosis as she told me what I already knew.

"You have fibromyalgia. I'll prescribe medication to manage it, you have to be careful with it. But..."

But it'll never get better. You'll always hurt. It'll get worse. I already knew that. I just wanted someone to sign on it, because it turns out that when doctors perceive you as female, complaints of chronic pain tend to fall by the wayside, particularly if you have a history of mental illness. She took me seriously. She warned me about my leg, about what a flareup would do somewhere I'm already hurting all the time, and I kept myself from barking at her I fucking know, that's part of what it's been like for almost a decade because at least she believed me.

I mourned my body again, all the same.

I lay in bed gripping my thigh, trying to will the spasms down, trying to decide between yelling and sobbing, trying to figure out why: had I slept on it wrong? Was it the weather? It had hurt after walking too much on Monday, but not as much as I expected; a delayed reaction? It didn't matter, in the end; it wasn't going to take the pain away.

I thought of Izzy, as I tore my lips apart with my teeth to feel something that wasn't my damn leg. I thought of how real he felt, the tears and the screaming, the gritted teeth, the suicidal loss of identity. The loneliness. I thought of his stubbornness, his progress. How much both of those realities meant. How they thrashed it all, in one moment, and all but told us, the ones that feel like him, "when the desire to die comes back just do it. You've outlived what you were, so who you are has *had enough*", and my mouth tasted like blood for more than one reason.

He meant so much. He could have meant so much more. And we have to wipe the spit of this insult from our faces and carry on and accept it was part of a happy ending.

He might've forgiven it all; he was a character and you made him. I don't. I won't. I'm still here, with my pain and anger, and I refuse to die so the people who want me gone can live in peace. And I refuse to be quiet and accept that for a happy ending I should fade away.

If you can't understand this anger, at least don't insult me and others like me by telling us there's no reason for it.

I'm hazy with pain and aware that I'm rambling. But whatever I don't bleed in ink will poison me.

[crowwbones]

Burnt Leaves

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GNC Reader

SFW / Fluff & Comfort / No Dialogue / TW: Drug abuse mentions, mildly unhealthy coping with insomnia, one off-handed joke about dying

Summary: You deal with plenty of bullshit as is, and insomnia is just the straw threatening to break your back. You have your ways to deal with it, though. Seems like the skull masked lieutenant needs a new coping mechanism as well.

I may write more if people actually enjoy this, also i wrote this at like 3 am and i am dealing with insomnia myself, pls excuse if it sucks lmao

Being in the military was probably your best option. You weren't small or weak, you had quite a ways to go, sure, but you held your own. That's what initially impressed your training captain. You had a drive despite being depressed as shit. Which, maybe you lied to your recruiting officer. And the doctor. And your training sqaudron. But what's a little lie compared to staying in that drug den you reluctantly call home?

The harsh drills and tense, full body aching was nothing to you. Not compared to watching your mother be strung out on a stained, burned, broken couch while being left in the drug dealers care. Hell, or even when you had to help her find a dehydrated vein with a short and dull needle. Perhaps something that you considered a life saving skill, but it made you feel disgusting if you thought about it for too long.

You've been shifted around a few bases when you were needed, seeing as you were sort of an everyman. Excelled in the maintenance of weaponry, one hell of a mechanic, and maybe a few things you knew how to do that were definitely against the Geneva Convention. To be fair, though, if you had to decide between dying and using a makeshift gun that was severely out of regulation, you'd take your chances in court.

But all of this shifting around and half assed childhood you had lead to even more goddamn problems you didn't need. Often, maybe every few nights every single week, you dealt with insomnia. Bad weeks had you trying to fight the uncomfortable disorder every night, but you lucked out with having to deal with it half the time usually.

It was always so uncomfortable. The inside of your skin felt like it was covered in small pyramid-shaped cones that pressed into every nerve where there was pressure. Your eyes were heavy but never heavy enough to induce sleep. Your mind would never fog up the way it was supposed to. And it drove you absolutely crazy.

You had a few ways to deal with it, as most chronic sufferers do. Sometimes you accepted it and laid there until pure exhaustion won. Your worst option.

Most of the time, though, you'd already spent a few hours hoping, tossing and turning in restlessness before getting up. You'd lace your boots and try to walk it off. Speed up the exhaustion process manually. And it worked maybe 50 percent of the time. And you'd collapse back into your bunk, shoes still on and pillow over your head, and get just enough sleep that you wouldn't hate yourself in the morning.

And the nights that even that didn't work, you'd find yourself in the kitchenette of the rec area. You'd stare desperately at the coffee pot you were using to heat up water while you waited to choke down a bland, bitter chamomile tea. You couldn't stand tea on its own. You didn't have a sweet tooth, but you could accept when something needed a little bit of sweetness.

This often settled you down enough. The overwhelming tired made you cry in the barely lit room while your tea steeped, palms pressed into your burning eyes as you wished you'd just fucking sleep. And you'd stop. You'd drink your tea. And get enough sleep to function.

And you fell into this pattern and habit.

Until this one mother fucker.

See, you ended up being called in to aid in the upkeep up vehicles and guns at a fairly large base that served as home grounds to plenty of "real soliders". You didn't pay mind to many of them, but Captain Price's team at least treated you decently since you were the one making sure their guns jammed significantly less. However, Ghost creeped you the fuck out.

That teams lieutenant was horrifying to you. He stood way too tall, was way too broad to move that fucking quietly. He held this awful aura to him that was completely unreadable. And he barely ever spoke to you in a way that didn't feel like a back handed... well, you wouldn't even call them compliments. The man would stare more often than breathe, just watch you move about your job from the doorways and wait for you to notice he was there before declaring that he would have been able to kill you six different ways by that point. You've been able to get that number down to four, at least.

And for some reason. This also included your overstimulated and tired crying time at the coffee pot at 2 a.m. as well. It seemed like it was his third time just watching you when he spoke up for the first time, mostly just asking what the hell you were doing. You'd jump out of your skin, a blessing of a feeling if it didn't shoot unnerving shivers down your spine, and stammer out a half coherent response about tea leaves. And then he just... stood there. Watching you drink your tea and then leave after you were done.

At some point during this routine, he'd started to invite himself to sit across from you at the small table. He never really struck up conversations, though you swore you could see amusement in his eye as you made faces at the bitter tea. He knew you were burning the leaves, but he couldn't tell you that. Listening to another person rip into him about being British was very low on his to-do list.

This became comfortable. You began to tolerate his shadow-like presence. Maybe even enjoyed the silent company. You could guess that he was suffering the same just from how tired his eyes looked past the mask. Maybe he too found solace in a shared solidarity that you two really haven't expressed. It was bittersweet. Two barely functioning and sleep deprived people finding a space to relax, lit only by a half burnt out overhead lamp. Maybe, even if a bit selfishly, you had begun to go a little morr often judt for the company of a man you didn't know the actual name of.

Ghost never left before you, but only arrived after you began heating some water. He never had a cup himself, sat himself in the same chair, and limited himself to a handful of yrs or no questions a night. You didn't mind.

But he once again found a way to disrupt this routine.

You were reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet above you, your other hand grabbing the coffee pot of hot water. You heard him move, which honestly should have been your que to turn around, and you felt him standing directly behind you. He covered your hand on the handle with his much larger one and practically forced you to let him grab the pot. He grabbed two mugs and moved off to the side, only meeting your eyes when you didn't move.

What ever fucking compelled him to do that, you had no idea. You were staring with bloodshot eyes and still even had your hand vaguely where the pot was. He simply nodded his head to the table and turned back to the mugs.

Guess you weren't making your tea? Deep down, thr angsty teen part of you hoped it was the forever sleep kind of deal. But that was dumb, so you shook your head a little to ignore that.

Ghost set your mug down on the table before sitting himself across from you, lifting his mask up enough to take a drink.

You've yet to see him do that, so your brain was just kind of off at this point. You stared, not that you meant to, as the man replaced his mask and set his mug down, staring back at you with a quirked brow. You looked down in a daz3 before grabbing your own mug, taking a long sip. Did he make a different kind of tea? Why the hell did it taste so... so much better? Your confusion actually earned you a small laugh from the other, a quiet, muffled chuckle from under his mask. That shouldn't have given you butterflies. He still scared you, after all.

He never explained himself, but from then on, you left the tea making duties to him and he didn't seem to mind. You fell into the pattern of getting there before your insomnia got into full swing every night, starting the water and getting the mugs. Then your midnight partner would show up and handle the rest.

As much as the mask gave you the creeps, it was growing on you. Like the previously bitter tea. 

[greekceltic]

FAQ Page

She/her | 38 | I like cats and rain. My comic: https://catswaycomic.com/ My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/greekceltic My Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/greekceltic Other links: https://linktr.ee/greekceltic Sorry in advance if you send me a message and I don't get back to you, I tend not to stress over messages/asks. I do try to read them though, and I'm always open to being asked questions about characters or my headworld/stories. I am already aware that my art is being copied. They're blocked. Please stop telling me about it. Rest of my FAQ is under the cut >

Can I repost your work? I don't mind as long as I'm credited. I'm less okay with my work being used as a pageviews grab, but it's probably not worth my time to care. If it's something I've selected to take down and don't have posted anymore, don't. If it's something you commissioned, go for it. You don't need to credit me every time you share it. Once in a while is cool.

Are you okay with fanart? What about OC interactions? Can I post it? Sure, just don't profit off of it and please credit me. If you want to draw my OCs interacting with yours that's also fine (and fun!)- though I prefer situations where their actions make sense. Alf wouldn't make your character cry, for example. He's grumpy but not cruel. Posting it is fine. Is it okay if I take inspiration from your art and concepts? I've been in a situation in recent years where another artist has taken far, far too much. It's a subject I'm pretty burnt out on. I recently saw another artist's take on this and it looked sensible to me. I'm just going to quote theirs. I have tried to find my own words, but right now I find myself more comfortable using someone else's. "Well, if you’re having to ask me for permission, either your design is too similar or you’re being overly nervous about a normal artistic process. You’re absolutely free to use my work as a source of inspiration but I’d strongly encourage you to think about the details from my design you like most, and remix them with other concepts into your own unique take."

Taking inspiration is something everyone does, but please don't become a shadow I get bi-weekly alerts about. Ideally your pool of inspiration will be many artists and concepts re-imagined into something unique to you- and that you're being honest with yourself about the result.

Your art is being copied! / Will you tell me who the copy cat is? I get a lot of messages about this and am tired. I'm sure if my art ends up somewhere it shouldn't be or there's something really worth my attention I'll find out through friends. Otherwise, I'm just sayin' get a second or third opinion before coming to my inbox. I probably already know about it.

I sent you a message and you didn't respond. Sorry about that. I tend not to stress about messages because it can be a drain. You're more likely to get a response if you let me know from the get go what you want, but nothing is guaranteed. Sometimes I didn't see it, sometimes I got busy or forgot, sometimes I plan to do it later, sometimes I just opted out. It's not personal. Where do you Rp? Are you looking for more partners? Discord mostly. Roleplay consumes a lot of time so these days I mostly only play with my buddy Thema. I probably wouldn't have time to play, but I like to hang around people that do and I don't mind being asked. Just please don't be sad if I never get around to responding! I'm most compatible with people who are comfortable with radio silence.

Can I use your characters in roleplay/as roleplay refs? Considering I actively roleplay my OCs and there's a potential for confusion, I'd rather you didn't. Though I think there's a difference between linking to my art and saying 'this is my character', and linking to it to say 'this has the mood I'm going for, but here's what's different about my character--'. The latter is fine.

Can I make Fan OCs for your setting? Thinking about this makes me tired. Maybe I'll get to a point where I'm more comfortable later, but for now I'd rather you didn't make something directly from my worlds. But lets be real, you don't need my permission to draw cat monsters and I take a huge amount of inspiration from ancient history. Many of my concepts are inspired by things that you can read about and be inspired too. If you see something and are curious if there's a historical source, just ask. Hopefully I'll remember.

Do I have permission to draw NSFW art of your characters? No, for a plethora of reasons, some easy to explain and some not, but I probably can't stop you. Just don't profit off of it or show it to me.

Do you have a website for your OCs? I have RP pages for them scattered all over the place and many of them are outdated, but as I type this I recently put some up on Toyhouse. https://toyhou.se/GreekCeltic

Do you have a website for your comic? Sure do. It's an expensive fuck. https://catswaycomic.com/ When does your comic update? Sporadically. I work on it when I have time. My income is solely freelance commissions and Patreon- mostly commissions.

There's other places you could post your comic! Yeah, I know. I may do that someday, but for now I like having my own house, even if it's an expensive fuck. (Not really, the renewal just hits around tax time, Lol).