#I just spent almost double the time trying not to die on the way home

[heyyesimtrash-whatofit]

Nothing- NOTHING will prepare you for driving in a snowstorm. Especially one that’s caused a Winter Weather Warning for like three days now-

[autumnshighlady]

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 10)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the Winter Solstice is finally here, and it’s now or never.

warnings: the usual IC slander, Cassian slander, Nesta calls Cassian out, Rhys is an ass, slight nsfw implications

word count: 8k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR YOU GUYS TO READ THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! It’s my biggest chapter yet and it’s only the start of a crazy journey. This fic is so special to me and I hope you enjoy x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9

read on ao3

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Weeks went by as the solstice preparations were in full swing. Nesta was constantly pulled aside for dress fittings and dancing practices, getting ready to, as Rhysand had apparently put it, seduce Eris Vanserra.

Training with Azriel was still part of your regular schedule, much to your dismay. Originally, you hadn’t minded the hours you spent with Azriel, working on everything from combat and stealth techniques to mind game exercises. But the news Eris had broken to you had ignited a feeling of dread that awoke every time you walked down the stairs to the training room.  

Azriel was willing to step back and let Rhysand send you to the continent to die. It would take years for you to be even remotely ready for such a mission, and the spymaster knew it. Yet he did nothing to try and stop it as the High Lord signed your death sentence. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he wanted you dead – you illegally served as his spy in another court, a crime that could have easily resulted in an act of war. But if you died, then that problem went away for him. It was almost too perfect, you had realized. That way, he got exactly what he wanted: you out of the picture, and Nesta isolated from the influence of someone who could turn her against him.

Every day you tried to think of a way to get out of it, racking your brain for hours on all the possibilities. So far nothing had come from it aside from letting yourself go to the continent and hope that your magical bond with Nesta would extend over such a distance, enough to tell her where you were so Eris could come get you. Eventually. It wasn’t a good plan, too much could go wrong – the limits to how far apart you could be from Nesta and have the mind-speaking still work was unknown. You could be snatched up at any moment and persecuted for being fae. You could get lost, or captured by the enemy and killed. None of it boded well for you, and every night you had nightmares about the possibilities.

Eris had not been back to the Night Court either. Perhaps he had decided that Nesta was enough, and he could leave you to die in the human lands to eliminate the threat of you exposing his plans to kill his father.

You’re double crossing the Night Court for revenge, and trusting you’ll be able to get Eris Vanserra of all people to help you out? What makes you think he won’t just sell you back to them? He’s a cruel, sadistic bastard who shouldn’t be trusted. Tamlin’s words from weeks ago rang in your head. Realistically, he had a point, but part of you knew that you could trust Eris, not that you had another choice.

You missed the Spring Court, heart aching as you thought of those brief few weeks where you were blissfully able to return home. Frequently you wondered how the progress on the sanctuaries was going, if more and more citizens continued to arrive at them. You had not heard anything good or bad from the Spring Court, only Azriel’s occasional comment about Tamlin seemingly minding his own business for now.

In the days before the Solstice, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. You were in your own head constantly, unable to escape the fear of what would happen. Emerie had knocked you down three times during training way easier than she should have been able to, to the point where Gwyn had asked if you’d hit your head and needed to see a healer. Azriel had glanced at your fumbles throughout the session, but not once brought it up.

Maybe this is good, You had thought to yourself as Gwyn knocked your wooden sword out of your hands. Maybe he’ll see I’m really not ready for this mission and finally convince Rhys to send someone else.

But the spymaster gave no indication of even having had a conversation with Rhys, let alone coming to a conclusion. The uneasiness killed you, gnawing away at you from the inside in a chasm of dread and anxiety.

*********************

You leaned against the edge of the table, rifling through the pages of an old, dusty book Gwyn had handed you. The priestess had invited you and Emerie to the library, wanting to catch Nesta after her dancing lesson with Mor. Both of you had eagerly obliged, and linked arms as you strode into the library. Admittedly, you were hoping to snag a book about the Valkyries, even though Gwyn had explained them to you. Even though you were only doing this training for the sake of getting out of here, the part of you that had bonded with Nesta’s two friends wanted to be a part of the Valkyrie training – to be part of a group of females that fought together against all odds.

“What are you doing here?” Came Nesta’s voice as she came down the stairs to the level where you, Gwyn, and Emerie were.

“I wanted to see where you two work,” Emerie said, tossing the book in her hand with a thump that made the priestess grimace.

“I was showing Emerie and (Y/N) the wonders of Merrill’s office while she’s off at a meeting,” Gwyn said. “I’ve got to go work, but I thought you could bring her around while you shelve.” Gwyn threw her a wry glance. “And dance.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. A few days ago, she had told you that she might have been caught practising her waltzes in the stacks once or twice. Or ten times.

Nesta nodded to Emerie. “Come on.”

But Gwyn said, “Actually, before you two go, I wanted to give you something. Since it’s probably the last time we’ll see each other until Winter Solstice is over.”

You and Nesta and Emerie all swapped confused looks. You asked, “You got us presents?”

Gwyn only said, “I’ll meet you down at your cart.” With that, she dashed into the gloom.

The remaining three of you aimed for Level Five, where Nesta had apparently left her cart. It had been replenished with books needing to be shelved. She explained what she did, but you were only half-listening.

“What?” Nesta asked, voice laced with concern as she noticed the colour leave your cheeks.

Your brows bunched, body shivering with an eerie chill. “I ... I must not have drunk enough water during training.” Everyone had tried out two new Valkyrie techniques that Gwyn had found the night before, and both had been particularly brutal, ordering them to use shields as springboards for launching a fellow Valkyrie into the skies, and to do their abdominal curls bearing the weights of those shields.

No one had managed to cut the ribbon, though Emerie had nicked an edge two days ago.

“What’s wrong?” Nesta pressed.

You felt your eyes glaze over as the memories you tried so hard to push away were screaming in your head. “It’s ... I swear, I can hear my mother screaming down here.” Your hands trembled as she lifted one to brush a strand of hair behind an ear. “I can hear the laughs of the Hybern soldiers as her blood splattered all over them, can hear Sapphyra’s head being ripped from her shoulders…”

Nesta whipped her head to the downward slope to their right. No darkness lurked there, but they were low enough ... “This place is ancient and strange,” she said, even as she processed what you had admitted.

“Let’s go up a level, where the darkness doesn’t whisper so loudly. I’m sure Gwyn will find us easily enough.” She linked her arm with yours, pressing her body close, letting some of her warmth leak into you. Emerie linked her arm into your free one, broken wing gently grazing your back as your friends lead you away from the creeping darkness.

Gwyn did find you, the priestess panting and flushed as she handed out three rectangular parcels, each roughly the size of a large, thin book. “One for each of you.”

Nesta opened the brown paper and beheld a stack of pages filled with writing. You tore into your own as well, letting the packaging fall to the floor as you opened the pages. At the top of the first page, it merely said, Chapter Twenty-One. You read the first few lines beneath it, then nearly dropped the pages.

“This —this is about us.” Nesta said, echoing your thoughts.

Gwyn beamed. “I convinced Merrill to add us into the penultimate chapter. She even let me write it—with her own annotations, of course. But it’s about the rebirth of the Valkyries. About what we’re doing.”

You had no words. Emerie’s hands were once more shaking as she leafed through the pages. “You had this much to say about us?” Emerie said, choking on a laugh.

Gwyn rubbed her hands together. “With more to come.”

You read a line at random on the fifth page. Whether the sun beat hot on their brows or freezing rain turned their bones to ice, Nesta, (Y/N), Emerie, and Gwyneth arrived at practice each morning, ready to …

The back of your throat ached; your eyes stung. “We’re in a book.”

Gwyn’s fingers slid into yours, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up as Emerie’s hand grabbed her own, and then yours. Gwyn smiled again as Nesta clasped onto Gwyn’s free hand, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”

“Yes,” You said quietly. “Yes they are.”

Pride filled your chest at the pages written before you – even though you had not known Gwyn and Emerie as long as Nesta, they embraced you with open arms and included you in their training, activities, everything. For the first time since Hybern, you felt surrounded by a group of people who loved you truly.

*********************

You were eating your lunch in the kitchen, picking away at the remaining scraps of chicken sandwich on your plate. Nesta had gone to another dancing lesson, and Emerie was back at her shop while Gwyn worked. So you were left alone with your thoughts in the main level of the House of Wind, trying every mind stilling technique you could think of as anxiety made your stomach churn at the idea of tonight’s ball.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the hallway from someone who knew how to be quiet.

“Azriel,” You mumbled without even turning around. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

The shadowsinger stepped into your field of view, enormous wings blocking the sunlight that came through the large windows. He had bags under his eyes, as if he had not slept in days. But it was the only tell that something was off, for he remained as stoic as ever.

“You’re invited to the Solstice ball tonight at the Hewn City.” He said, pouring coffee into the mug in his hand.

You raised your eyebrows. “I am?”

Azriel turned to face you. “Yes.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” You did, but that's besides the point. It was funny to annoy the spymaster.

As predicted, he rolled those eyes before taking a sip of the steaming hot coffee. “Well I am not going to drag you down there kicking and screaming. But it would be polite to accept the invitation, as it is from the High Lady.”

Now that was a surprise. “It was?”

“Yes. Nesta is going as well, and she figured it would be easier on Nesta if she had a friend there with her.”

You snorted. “You mean Nesta will behave better if I’m there?”

Those hazel eyes met yours, unflinching. “Yes.”

Sighing, you pushed your plate away, deciding that if you ate another bite of food you’d throw up from nervousness.  “You know, if you talk about and treat Nesta like a feral animal, she’s going to bite like one.”

Azriel said nothing, huffing as he downed the rest of the caffeine. The rays of sun glowed around his tall frame, illuminating his high cheekbones. After a moment, he changed the subject. “A dress has been sent to your room for you to wear. Be ready on the balcony by 6.”

*********************

For about an hour, you had sat on your bed staring at the dress, wondering if you should do this. After a lot of back and forth, you swept some black liner across your eyes and braided half of your hair up before slipping into the dress. It was dark blue, the same colour as Azriel’s siphons, and covered in sparkles. The slightly darker skirt was loose, a V-shaped cluster of stars pulling it around your waist. Sparkles plunged down your navel, revealing at least a third of your breasts and sternum. You had uttered the words to vanish the tattoo, praying nothing weird would happen that would cause it to show up, for the plunging neckline revealed the skin where the very mark stood. Two crescent moons faced away from each other right in the centre above your sternum, brighter than the other jewels.

Silver stars and jewels continued along the off the shoulder neckline and the strap just above it that went across your collarones. Attached to where the sleeves would normally be was a long, mesh veil-like piece of stars and glitter that went along the floor and trailed behind you as you walked. While uncomfortable, you couldn’t deny it was beautiful.

You stood beside Azriel one one side of the foot of the black dias, trying not to shake as you stared at the crowd in front of you. Cassian took up the other side, a lethal glare across his features similar to Azriel’s. Morrigan was above you by the throne, representing Feyre and Rhysand until they arrived.

The entire throne room was bedecked in black candles, evergreen wreaths and garlands, and holly berries. The twin banquet tables flanking either side of the massive space overflowed with food, but it was forbidden to all until Feyre and Rhys allowed it. The towering doors to the throne room at last yawned open.

Dark power rumbled through the mountain, warning of their approach. The mountain sang with it. Everyone turned as the High Lord and High Lady appeared, crowned and garbed in black.

Rhys looked his usual self, but Feyre...

The room gasped.

As Azriel had informed you on the flight here, tonight also served another purpose: to tell the world of Feyre’s pregnancy.

She wore a dress of sparkling black panels, and it did nothing to hide her swelling belly. No, it showed off her pregnant womb, gleaming in the candlelight. Rhys’s face was a portrait of smug, male pride. You knew he’d shred anyone who so much as blinked wrong at Feyre into a million bloody ribbons. Indeed, cold violence rippled off Rhys as they walked toward the dais, Feyre’s baby-rich scent filling the air. He’d let everyone here smell it, further confirming that she was with child.

Her serene face was lovely, and her full red lips parted in a smile at Rhys as they aimed for their thrones. Keir looked torn between anger and shock; Eris’s face was carefully neutral. You hadn’t dared look at him until now.

Motion at the back of the room tugged your stare, and then—

Both Nesta and Elain wore black. Both walked behind Rhys and Feyre, a silent indicator that they were a part of the royal family. Had mighty powers of their own. They’d planned it that way apparently, wanting Eris to see for himself how valuable Nesta was.

Nesta in Night Court black threatened to bring you to your knees, and from the glance you snuck at Cassian, his expression said the same. She’d braided her hair over her head in her usual style, but atop it, a delicate tiara of glinting black stone rested, slender spikes jutting upward in a dark corona. Each spike was topped with a tiny sapphire, as if the spikes were so sharp they’d pierced the sky and drawn cobalt blood.

And the dress …

Silver thread embroidered the skintight velvet bodice, the straps so narrow they might as well have been nothing against her moon-white skin. The neckline plunged nearly to her navel, where the silver thread gathered to hold a small sapphire that matched the ones on her crown. The full skirts brushed the dark floor, rustling in the rippling silence. Nesta’s chin remained high, accentuating her long, lovely neck. Her red-painted lips cocked in a feline smirk as her kohl-lined eyes took in the room watching her every breath.

Nesta seemed to glow with the attention. Owned it. Commanded it. You could feel her presence, taste her on your tongue as she approached. It threatened to overwhelm you, but you held it together. You hadn’t seen Nesta before this, having been taken away from the House earlier by Azriel.

Feyre and Rhys took their thrones, and Nesta and Elain came to stand at the foot of the dais, between where you and Azriel were situated opposite of Cassian..

Feyre declared to the assembled crowd, “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you.”

Keir, whom Azriel had told you about a few hours ago with a disgusted look on his face, scuttled forward, bowing low. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.” It was obvious bullshit.

Eris stalked to his side, not glancing once at you as he passed.. “And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” He flashed Feyre a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by this news.”

Rhys’s mouth curled in a cruel half smile, the stars winking out in his eyes. “I’m sure he will.”

You evened your breathing, heart racing at everything being on the line. Eris knew your plan, he could easily tell Rhys at this very moment what you were up to. Rhys, who had no idea how much you truly knew, would slaughter you instantly – especially bloodily given the audience in front of him.

The High Lord said to no one in particular, “Music.”

An orchestra hidden in a screened-in mezzanine began playing.

Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.” The crowd undulated as people aimed for the tables.

Only Eris and Keir remained before them. Neither spared Mor so much as a glance, though she smirked down at them, her red dress like a flame in the gloom of the hall.

Feyre commanded the crowd, her voice like thunder at midnight, “Dance.”

People paired off and fell seamlessly into the music. Keir went with them this time.

“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled, a long black box appearing in his hands, “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”

You kept your face neutral, but panicked. Was the gift Nesta? Surely not even Feyre would let him speak about her sister like that.

Rhys floated the box over to Eris on a night-kissed wind. Let enough of that wind remain, wrapping behind Eris, for you to know it blocked him from sight. From Keir’s sight, specifically.

Eris lifted his brows, flipping open the carved lid. He stiffened, voice going low. “What is this?”

“A present,” Rhys said, and you caught a glimpse of a hilt in the box.

The dagger Nesta had Made. You refrained from balking at the audacity of the High Lord and Lady to take a weapon that Nesta had Made and pass it to another as if it was theirs to give. They had taken Nesta’s apartment, her inheritance, her freedom, and now the one thing she made herself was also snatched away.

Eris sucked in a breath. Feyre said, “You can sense its power.”

“There’s flame in it,” Eris said, not touching the dagger. As if his own magic warned him. He shut the lid, face slightly pale. “Why give this to me?”

“You’re our ally,” Feyre said, a hand resting on her belly. “You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It seemed only fair to give you a weapon that operates outside those rules, too.”

“This is truly Made, then.”

You braced yourself for the truth, the damning, dangerous truth to be revealed about Nesta. But Rhys said, “From my personal collection. A family heirloom.”

“You possessed a Made item and kept it hidden all these years? During the war?”

“Don’t take our generosity for granted,” Feyre warned Eris quietly.

Eris stilled, but nodded. He extended the box back to Rhys. “I’ll leave it in your keeping while I dance, then.” He added with what you could have sworn was sincerity, “Thank you.”

Feyre nodded as Rhys took the box and set it beside his throne. “Use it well.” She smiled softly at Eris. “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” You finally glanced over at Nesta, who just looked bored. Like they hadn’t just given away the dagger she’d Made.

Perhaps it was because Nesta’s eyes had drifted toward the dancing, shimmering throng. As if she couldn’t help herself when the music swelled. She seemed to be half-listening. Maybe music meant more to her than the dagger—more than magic and power.

Feyre noted the direction of Nesta’s stare. “My oldest sister shall take my place.”

Nesta barely glanced at Eris, who pulled his assessing gaze from Elain to stare at the eldest Archeron sister with a mix of wariness and intent as she began walking towards him.

Eris offered an arm, and Nesta took it, her face neutral, her chin high, each step gliding. They halted at the edge of the dance floor, pulling apart to face each other.

Others watched from the sidelines as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began, a harp strumming high and sweet. Eris extended a hand, a half smile on his mouth. You resisted the urge to squirm in anticipation at Eris’s upcoming proposal. The ball had only started – it would be hours before the time came to get Nesta out.

As if those harp strings wrapped around Nesta’s arm, she raised it, and placed her hand in his precisely as the last, swift pluck of the harp sounded.

Percussion and horns blasted; low stringed instruments started a rushing stroke of music. A summons to the dance in a countdown to movement. You reminded yourself to breathe as Eris slid his broad hand over Nesta’s waist, tucking her in close. She lifted her chin, looking up into his face as a deep-bellied drum thumped.

And as the violins began their sweeping song, a beckoning back-and- forth, Nesta moved as if her very breath were timed to the music. Eris went with her, and it was clear that he knew the dance’s nuances and exact notes, but Nesta …

She gathered her skirts in her other hand, and as Eris led her into the waltz’s opening movements, her body went loose and taut in so many different places you didn’t know where to look: she was bent and shaped and directed by the sound.

Even Eris’s eyes widened at it—the sheer skill and grace, each movement of her body precisely tuned to each note and flutter of music, from her fingertips to the extension of her neck as she turned, the arch of her back into a held note. You dared a glance at Feyre and Rhys and found even their normally composed faces had gone a bit slack.

The waltz progressed, and you watched with wide eyes as Nesta spun with one arm above her head twelve times as her and Eris moved across the dance floor. The Autumn prince’s eyes were blazing with feral delight, drinking in the elegance of her movements. As they continued to dance and spin you could see, you watched as Eris grew more and more enchanted by the female.

You wondered how much of it was real and how much was an act to justify the proposal he was about to bring forth. You couldn’t blame him for his enamourment, for you felt it too. Both you and Eris saw Nesta for who she truly was, not what the Inner Circle taught her to be. As the pair danced they looked like they were made for each other, unlike whatever she had with Cassian. From the gleam in Eris’s eyes you knew he saw Nesta’s potential, how she needed to be free to spread her wings, not cooped up like a soldier in a camp. It was a sentiment you shared with him, giving you comfort that even if you were never able to join them in Autumn, at least Eris would understand what Nesta needed better than the Night Court.

Eventually, you joined Azriel for a dance, and then Cassian. It was awkward, especially how Cassian took every chance to look over your shoulder in Nesta’s direction. As she spoke in low tones with Eris, Cassian’s grip on your waist tightened.

“That hurts.” You hissed at him, side hurting from the force of his large hand.

“Sorry.” Cassian murmured apologetically, but did not meet your gaze. As you danced with him, his movements got sloppy, distracted by trying to hear whatever Nesta and Eris were saying.

“Get it together,” You snapped under your breath, stepping on his toe deliberately to bring his gaze back to you. “You’re going to make a scene.”

He ignored you, letting go of you and storming over to where Eris and Nesta were dancing.

“Move.”

Cassian’s cold voice cracked through the spell of the music, halting her. He stood before them, amid the sea of people twirling around and around, and even though most wore black, his armour and blades made him seem ... different. It unnerved you.

Eris looked down his straight nose at Cassian. “I don’t take orders from brutes.”

Nesta only said coolly to Cassian, “Am I to understand that you would like to dance with me?”

“Yes.” He was facing away from you, but you didn’t have to see him to know that his eyes simmered with rage.

You clenched your fists, now awkwardly stranded on the dance floor. Cassian was being an asshole, acting like he was entitled to Nesta, like she was his possession that he didn’t like other people touching. It infuriated you – he hadn’t even stayed the night in her bed, yet he behaved as if she was his wife.

Eris bared his teeth at Cassian. “Go sit at your master’s feet, dog.”

“No one likes a selfish partner, Eris.” Nesta said quickly, not so much as looking at Cassian.  “Time to share.”

Eris threw her a mocking smile. “We’ll play later, Nesta Archeron.” He ignored Cassian as he fixed his gaze on you. “You look lonely over here, my dear. May I?”

You quickly glanced over at Azriel, who nodded despite his clenched jaw. Cassian had ruffled Eris’ feathers, despite still needing his allegiance. You could see the message in Azriel’s eyes: Do it and help fix this mess.

So you nodded, extending your hand for Eris to take. Everyone was staring at you, many smirking and sneering at how quickly Cassian had left you to fend for yourself. It felt like they were wolves closing in, predatory male eyes drinking in the plunging neckline of your dress, ready to pounce.

But as soon as Eris grabbed your hand and fixed them a stare, they scurried away. You nearly sighed in relief as many of the gazes retreated in fear of the Autumn princeling.

“Thank you.” You whispered under your breath as Eris pulled you in close for the next waltz.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” He chuckled lowly, his lips inches away from your ear. “Your spymaster looks like he’s debating storming over here and gutting me. Might ruin that pretty dress of yours.”

You snorted. “It’s not my dress.”

Eris looked down at you, green eyes gleaming as the thumb on your waist caressed you ever so slightly. “Either way, you look absolutely ravishing in it.” He purred.

You shuddered at the words, unable to contain your reaction to the sound of his velvety voice. He must have felt it, because an even wider smirk played at his lips. Letting him spin you around, you let your skirts fly around your ankles before twirling back into his arms. With a confidence you didn’t know you had, you ever so slightly gripped the fabric of his shirt on his chest and pulled him closer. “It’s a lovely dress,” You murmured seductively. “But do you want to know what I’d change about it?”

“And what might that be?” His voice was positively feline.

You brought your lips up to his ear, letting them graze the shell of them as you whispered, “I wish it was red.”

Ever so faintly, you noted the slight intake of breath at your words – red had always been Eris’ favourite colour, even though it was one of the main colours of his court. He chuckled, moving the hand on the waist to the small of your back and pulling you in closer. The scent of smoke and evergreens enveloped you at being so close to one of the most dangerous males in Prythian. You couldn’t help your beating heart as you felt your years-long crush on your best friend’s brother burn like wildfire.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Eris whispered, peeking over your shoulder towards where the Inner Circle stood, watching. “Although I must say the looks on your host court’s faces are priceless right now. Especially the spying brute, dare I say he is jealous?”

You laughed, unable to help yourself. “No, definitely not. I annoy the shit out of him every day on purpose, he’s quite glad to be rid of my presence for now.”

The music changed, yet Eris did not let you go, and neither did Cassian with Nesta. You glanced over quickly to see them – Nesta was expressionless, but Cassian looked pained. She let him pull her closer, but never for long. It was killing him to see her pull away from his touch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad.

“Good girl.” Eris’s voice snapped you back to attention with such a force you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. His words went straight to your core, and you prayed to the Mother that the various scents from the busy atmosphere were enough to hide your own. But Eris continued. “So he has not taken you to his bed then.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You managed to croak out, staring at the brooch on his tunic rather than his eyes. You knew if you looked into them again you’d melt into a puddle.

Eris cocked his head. “Oh come on, darling, indulge me. Rarely has the shadowsinger given that protective glare for anyone aside from dear Morrigan. Satisfy my curiosity.”

You coughed under your breath, trying not to seem bothered. “No. He has not. But considering he’s content with sending me to die I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

Eris’s grip on your hand tightened, and the smirk was gone from his face. He looked at you with seriousness, emerald eyes burning a hole into you. “I will not let that happen.” He promised with lethal calm.

“I hope so.”

You snuck a glance over at the Inner circle and regretted it immediately. Feyre looked confused, a tattooed hand over her belly as if protecting the child from Eris. Azriel, who had retreated to the dias, looked positively murderous. But it was Rhysand who caught your eye. He was watching you like a hawk, violet eyes simmering as you and Eris danced closer than you should have let happen. Your stomach dropped at that gaze, for you knew what kind of stare that was.

Rhysand was starting to get onto you.

And you were going to die for it.

Your heart began to race, and you felt your hands get clammy. Panic rose in your chest, tightening it like a belt.

Eris noticed and frowned at you. “What’s wrong?”

“He knows…” You gulped out, throat dry. “Rhysand… he’s watching. He’s suspicious, and I’ve seen that look before. I saw it when I insulted Feyre in front of him when we first met. He wants to kill me, Eris. He’s going to kill me.”

“Calm down, darling.” Eris said slowly, pulling you closer. “You’ve fooled him for this long, why would that change now?”

“Because he’s been watching us this whole time. I didn’t play my part, Eris. I let myself be drawn in….. he saw us dancing closer than the others and now he’s suspicious. Either way, he kills me tonight or he lets me die in the human lands. I need to get out of here.”

“Okay.” Eris stroked your lower back gently, glancing around at the crowd. “It’s okay. I will get you out of here. Pretend I just said something cruel. Then just follow my lead.”

You nodded, and Eris let go. He did not look back at you as he strode over to the main dining table and sat down, leaving you alone. You made an effort to look upset yet annoyed, scowling visible. A few moments later, you felt a hand on your arm, and looked to the side to see Nesta linking her arm through yours.

“Let’s get something to eat.” Nesta said, leading you over to the private table for the Inner Circle.

What’s going on? Her voice sounded in your head as the crowd parted for the both of you.

Rhys was watching me like a hawk. You replied, ignoring the male who openly sneered at you as you passed. I think he knows something’s going on between me and Eris. He was glaring at me with a promise, Nes. Eris told me to look disgusted and then follow his lead.

Nesta clutched your arm tighter, still holding you as you sat down. Cassian was in the chair next to Nesta, but she paid him no mind. Shit. We need to get out of here. Now. Eris better not fuck this up.

Your conversation with Nesta was broken by Azriel, who was seated across from you. His hazel eyes bore into you as he spoke, “What did Eris say?”

“Nothing pleasant.” You mumbled, filling your cup with wine and taking a large swig.

“Then why did you spend three dances with him?”

“If I’m supposed to be representing your court, would it not be rude of me to pull away from him?”

“If he made you uncomfortable it would be okay to do so.”

‘It’s fine, Azriel. I can handle it. He’s nothing but a snarky, prissy, bastard.”

Azriel’s expression was unreadable, but he did not press the issue. You did your best to dig into the food in front of you, but your churning stomach made it hard, as did the glances from the High Lord.

Luckily, dinner finished quickly, and servants came to clear the table. Eris got up from his seat a few metres away and strode over to Rhysand, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“All right,” He said, “You showed me what I can have, Rhysand. I’m intrigued enough to ask what you’d want in return.”

Nesta tensed beside you. This was the moment you had been waiting for for months.

But Rhys didn’t move from where he lounged at the head of the table. “What do you mean by that?”

Lust glazed Eris’s eyes. Covetous, calculating and lustful. “I mean that whatever you want, I’ll give it to you in exchange for Nesta. As my bride.” He jerked his chin to the box with the dagger at Rhys’s feet. “I’d rather have her than that.”

“You danced three dances with her!” Feyre squawked. Rhys’s lips seemed to be fighting a losing battle not to smile.

It wasn’t heard to tell that Cassian was pondering whether to strangle Eris’s throat or slit the skin wide open. Azriel’s syphons glowed, ready to step in.

“That’s not my decision,” Rhys said calmly to Eris. “And it seems foolish for you to offer me anything I want in exchange for her, anyway.”

His jaw tightened. “I have my reasons.”

From the shadows in his eyes, you could sense that both Cassian and Azriel knew something more lay beneath the rash offer. Something that even Az’s spies hadn’t picked up on at the Autumn Court. It wasn’t Nesta who Azriel looked to, but you.

You avoided his gaze.

Eris added, “It is a bonus, of course, that in doing so, I would be repaying Cassian for ruining my betrothal to Morrigan.”

Cassian’s hands curled into fists, but Mor’s fingers landed on his arm. You were as still as a board, not even sure if you were breathing. This was your chance, or Nesta’s at least.

Rhys said, “Anything I want, whether it be armies from the Autumn Court or your firstborn, you would grant me in exchange for Nesta Archeron as your wife?”

Cassian growled low in his throat, and Azriel visibly kicked him under the table. Nesta said nothing, despite being the potential bride in question. You both knew she was smart enough to know Eris would ask Rhys in the typical male-dominant traditions of his court.

Eris glared. “Not as far as the firstborn, but yes, Rhysand. You want armies against Briallyn and my father, you’ll have them.” His lips curved upward. “I couldn’t very well let my wife’s sister go into battle unaided, could I?”

Rhys silently laughed. His face remained stone-cold as he said, “I’ll consider it, and talk to Nesta. Keep the dagger, though. You might need it.”

It’s now or never. You said to Nesta. She squeezed your hand under the table.

“Wait a minute.” Nesta’s voice rang clear as day as she spoke up, grey eyes burning as she addressed Eris and the High Lord. “You are not my keeper, Rhysand. Nor am I an object, Eris. If you want me as your wife, you must ask me directly.”

Eris smirked. “I knew I liked you.” Before any of the shocked faces could say anything, Eris got down on one knee. The entire crowd was dead silent, eyes fixated on the scene near the dias. He bowed his head to Nesta like a knight to his king, then looked up at her with calculating eyes. “Nesta Archeron,” He continued. “I admire you greatly. You have a sharp mind and many talents. If you would do me the honour of being my bride, I vow that you will always have my protection, my heart, and the freedom to live your life how you see fit. Nesta, will you marry me?”

A pin dropping would have sounded like an earthquake in the silence of the room. Bewilderment was written across everyone’s face at the table, even Azriel’s. To them, Eris was simply making false, flowery promises. But you, and Nesta too, knew the meaning behind those words – a reminder of the actual promise he made you in the spring court. That he would help you get free.

Nesta spoke clearly after a few moments. “Yes.”

“What?” Feyre practically shrieked, standing up abruptly and then swaying slightly. “Are you insane?”

“Nesta…” Mor gasped. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? Did you put a spell on her, you lying bastard?”

Wood splintered as Cassian’s grip on the edge of the table cracked it. He stood up, snarling and ready to lunge at Eris but Azriel was quicker. Within a heartbeat he winnowed across the table and restrained Cassian, who fought like a rabid dog.

“I cannot let you accept this offer, Nesta.” Rhysand growled viciously. Feyre had started to cry, weeping into her hands as her mate’s hand rubbed her back. You resisted the urge to snort at her level of distraught – was she really so blind as to how miserable Nesta was here?

Nesta shot him a fiery glare. “You said it was my choice, remember?” She spat. “And I am accepting Eris’ offer.”

“But why?” Rhys questioned, eyes narrowing.

Her chin was held high as she responded. “Because I do not wish to train to be a warrior. I do not want to have to ‘heal’ to fit a mould in order to be in your little circle. I will not be your caged beast, Rhysand.”

“If you think Eris can give you freedom, you are sorely mistaken.”

Silver fire rose in Nesta’s eyes. “We all know the Night Court does not suit me. If my sister wasn’t your mate, you’d have chucked me out into the streets and you know it.”

Rhys’ dark power filled the room slowly. “I will not let you hand yourself over to that monster.”

“I’d like to see you try and stop me.” Nesta’s silver fire continued to rise, matching Rhys’ magic. “It’s a little late to pretend you care, Rhysand.”

Eris finally spoke up, having risen to his feet again. “If I may,” He interjected. “You did say it was the lady’s choice, Rhysand.”

“Shut up, Eris.” The High Lord growled.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Eris!” Cassian snarled viciously. Sweat was pouring from Azriel’s brow as he continued to fight to hold his brother back.

Your blood chilled as a glint emerged in Rhysand’s violet eyes. From the smirk that formed at his lips, you knew it wasn’t good. He relaxed visibly, putting his hands in his pockets. Nesta glanced at you worriedly, sharing the same sentiment.

“After all, Nesta,” He purred, cocking his head. “Do you really want to abandon your mate?”  

The world went so silent, not even a breath was taken. Even Cassian had stopped his squirming, giving Azriel a break. It felt like you were falling for hours through an endless void, feeling nothing but everything all at once.

Nesta had a mate.

Cassian was Nesta’s mate.

“What did you just say?” Nesta’s voice was quiet, faraway. Your heart was beating so fast you weren’t even sure you could hear properly. Your hands shook under the table, and tears began to prick at your eyes. The female you had grown so close to, had made a magical ancient bond with… the female you loved had a mate.

It would explain Cassian’s behaviour towards Nesta, his possessiveness – it wasn’t just because they were fucking each other, it was his instincts. You wondered if Nesta knew, but you desperately wished that she hadn’t. It seemed that way, given her reaction, but the way she always avoided the topic of Cassian made you think.

“Surely after weeks of bedding each other you would have realized?” Rhysand’s violet gaze was simmering with smugness, like he had won already. “Cassian is your mate, Nesta. That is why I cannot let you accept Eris’ offer.”

Nesta was utterly and completely still. She glanced at Cassian, looking as if she had seen a ghost. You felt sick, watching them lock eyes. Nesta was impossible to read, but Cassian’s face gave his every thought away. He loved her.

“A mating bond does not shackle her to the brute,” Eris quipped, coming to stand beside Nesta and glare at the High Lord. “They should not be forced together because of it. Technically speaking, unless a mating ceremony is performed and the bond is accepted, Nesta is free to do as she wishes.”

Mor piped up, addressing Eris. “She would never be yours, Eris. She would always belong here, with her mate.”

With her mate. You were definitely going to throw up soon from the shock of everything. The glimmer of hope you had died out, fading like the last embers of a fire.

“Stop talking about me like I am not here.” Nesta hissed at the female, dragging her gaze from Cassian. “I do not wish to be Cassian’s mate. I do not wish to reside here. I do not want to be any part of this court. I will be accepting Eris’ offer, and choosing my own path. I still have a future, but it does not involve your little circle. I don’t care about some stupid bond, I am not bound here.”

Feyre spoke up, voice shaking through her tears. “I don’t think you quite understand what a mating bond really–”

“And I don’t want to.” Nesta’s voice was cold as those silver flames rose in her eyes. “I don’t care what it means. I will be leaving.”

She turned back to Cassian, not an ounce of mercy in her eyes. “I do not want you, Cassian. If you were a good mate, you would not have let me be locked up and trained against my will so I could become a version of myself that had to be worthy of being loved by you. A good mate would not have fucked me after I was attacked by the kelpie, nor would you have laughed at me as I fell down the stairs when I was clearly suffering. Whatever we had, it is over.”

A strangled noise emerged from Cassian’s throat, and Azriel tightened his grip on the general. “Nesta, please!” Cassian begged. “Stay. We can figure this out. We don’t have to do anything about it yet, just please stay here.”

“No. I have let you all take my choices from me for too long. This one is my own.”

Mor stood up, releasing her hand from Feyre’s back and gestured to Eris, whose eyes were wide with shock. “Is he making you do this? Tell us now, Nesta, and we can help you get out of it.”

Nesta simply ignored her, turning instead to you. You felt your heart break into a million pieces as her gaze met yours. That beautiful face stared down at you, softening as she held out her hand. “Come.” She said.

What are you doing? You asked her.

Getting you out of here with me. Nesta replied as you took her hand. You stood up shakily, coming to stand next to her. Out of the corner of your eye, you snuck a glance at Eris. He was looking at you, and blinked once – which you interpreted as a confirmation to keep playing along.

“Nesta, what are you doing?” Azriel questioned, puzzled. It was the first time you saw the spymaster confused, and if the situation weren’t so dire you would have laughed.

“Taking her with me.” Nesta said simply, squeezing your hand. “(Y/N) is my friend, and I would like her to join me in Autumn.”

Rhysand took a step towards Nesta, that smugness from a few minutes ago replaced with pure violence and authority. “I can’t allow that.”

“Why not?” Eris said, grabbing Nesta’s elbow. “It would be nice for Nesta to have a friend in the court with her. My father could certainly use a new courtier. Let her come with us and we shall consider it your wedding gift.”

“No.” Rhysand growled.

The room was the definition of tension, onlookers staring at their High Lord with wide eyes. Kier was practically salivating at the scene in front of him. Nesta’s posture was composed, but you could feel her panic beside you. There was no way he was going to let both of you go, it would make him seem weak in front of the Hewn City.

Before you could say anything, you saw a movement out of the corner of your eye. Azriel was no longer holding Cassian, and had disappeared entirely. You were about to beg Nesta to tell Eris to winnow you all away right that second, but a familiar scarred hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled, yanking your grip from Nesta’s hand.

“NO!” Was all you could shriek out as Azriel’s shadows engulfed you, winnowing you away from the Court of Nightmares. You had cast one last glance at Nesta, her and Eris’ features wide with shock as the spymaster ripped you away from them and into the cold darkness.

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[reasonandempathy]

What to do with 10 trillion dollars

I spent way too much time actually answering a reddit question of "How would you spend 10 trillion dollars if you needed to in 20 years. You will die after 20 years." So, I figured I'd share it here.

With only $10 trillion dollars you can't stabilize greenhouse gases or get rid of fossil fuels, which are 13t and 44t respectively. I'm using a variety of sources, so don't expect citations.

I did slightly overpay for things, strategically, partially because I can only imagine doing the things I would do would make it more expensive than it would otherwise be. You'll see.

I'm presuming I don't get assassinated.

What you can do (I did the math) figures are in Billions:

Personal (2.44/10000):

1.44 on remaking 8 games as mid-line AAA games (I chose Legend of Dragoon, FF8, Witcher 1, and the Legacy of Kain series).

.214 on 50 years of housing and buying yourself a $130,000,000 home in NYC. Includes taxes, maintenance, and furniture.

.15 on household staff for 50 years, with at double the normal pay

.000327 to put 3 kids through the best pre-k and best college in the country

.664 setting up each of those 3 kids with their own equivalent home and staff setup

Public Service (4303/10000):

Big one out of the way. 2500bn in lobbying/buying up American politicians to enact structural reforms I want to see. You would think this would be way too much, since the presidential election in 2020 only had 14.4 in it. This amounts to averaging 250 in spending every election cycle, even off-year. I counter with the global commercial banking market having a market cap of 2800 in 2023. The defense industry is almost 480. Health insurance in the US is 1600. This is an expensive, long-drawn fight. This is likely the single most important thing on the list. Anti-corruption measures, labor rights, pro-democracy reforms, including ultimately making it illegal for other people to buy more elections.

a cumulative total of 1803 spent on:

curing the most common cause of blindness worldwide

eradicating polio, rabies, elephantitis, malaria, world hunger, COVID19 issues, Water + Sanitation access, extreme poverty, homelessness in USA, Canada, and UK (I looked for China, Indonesia, Nigeria, Egypt, and Pakistan but couldn't find real numbers),

protecting the Amazon rainforest

Corporate Fixing (5692/10000):

Buying up and changing (converting to Co-Ops, converting to non-profits, dissolving, or something in line with those:

Meta

Amazon

Disney

JP Morgan Chase

Lockheed Martin

Delta

Alphabet

Asda

Tesco

Nike

The Weinstein Company

United Airlines

Shein

EA

BP

Bayer (side-note: they own/are Monsanto now)

De Beers

Vonovia Real Estate Developers

DLE

Ubisoft

Ikea

Shueisha

and Viz Media

It leaves me with 1.4bn left over. I'm comfortable with saying an additional billion would likely be used up administratively as things get a bit more expensive than I thought they would.

Honestly, I could likely blow it on close friends and family who need it. If you have an issue with the house spending being for 50 years instead of 30, that can just be shuffled around a bit to include more people in my personal life to meet the same number.

Leaving me with 470 million to spend elsewhere in the next 20 years. Expensive vacations, nice cars, donating to "smaller" issues as I see worthwhile, giving family and friends money for their ventures/dreams, etc. make me think it wouldn't actually be hard to lose track of that much money in those many years.

Hell, if I want to I can probably spend a million bucks on food a year just for my family. Probably more, if I actively try to do so.

[supercriminalbean]

Things that made me insane during criminal minds evolution:

Written while I watched so enjoy my bumbling mess. Spoiler alert of course.

Episode 7:

I've seen spoilers this time so I sad oh we. It's mainly only because of Garcia stuff.

The women in the opening looks like my old friend..huh weird.

Why did deputy dipshit do the opening quote gross.

Oh no it's the JJ and Penelope from season 3 scene but worseeeeee.

Emily is concerned and thinking.

Garcia baby you need a friend your obliviously not okay you need support.

Emily is a mood.

So I'm emotionally lately and Papa Rossi with Tara I'm cryinggg.

Okay no. I'm sorry but look I LOVE Tara I do and I get she just got broken up with but hear me out hear. When Luke and JJ almost died they didn't even get to go home for a sleep before they had to keep going on the case but Dave Is trying to get Tara to take 3 days off (hell yes she desever it but not my point right now) JJ in the last episode qas exhausted and honstely she's probably close to a break down and no one e is there for her apart from Will of course but what happened to the team that use to be a family please. It so broken.

I need David Rossi to give me a dad talk or someone to give me a dad talk please.

Where's Luke??? Ughh I'm over the writers.

Oh hi Luke never mind.

I fucking love Rossi and Luke they feed of each other I swear 😂

JJ your so quite baby. Your so pretty I love you.

The deputy douchbag is growing on me.

He was now no more.

Okay I love him again

Am I the only one who ships him and Emily? I mean no what no I don't...

Mm Ellias 😍

Rossi 😳😳 I uh um. I was looking at that yesterday to.

Everytime I hear them mention Reid I get excited but I know it's just teasing.

Boss, JJ, Double Boss. Only Garcia haha baby 😂

Emily freeze definitely scared the fuck out of Penelope you can't tell me otherwise. It scared me.

Emily is scared haha.

Emily same.

Committed to pleasure oh baby that's one type of pleasure huh.

He spent the night at my house..

EMILY GROAN IS ME I LIVE FOR IT.

EMILY FACE IS TO RELATABLE RIGHT NOW WHY IS SO HOT ALSO LIKE FUCK MOMMY?!?!!!

Penelope is scared and then was like a bitch like bruhh

I have to say tho even without Prentiss being a profiler just her being friends with Garcia for so long she knew she wouldn't call him today.

I can not take this episode seriously im sorry I love Garcia right now she reminds me of me this weekend.

I'm also Emily at my friend's decision in men.

The little I love you when she leaves.

Garcia needs to get her shit together but why is Noone asking her what she's up to? Does anyone check in on Penelope and JJ anymore like thoes two were always there for the team. Derek and Spencer were thier supporters and so was Hotch now they gone so just thoes two thinking they are all alone again because they have trust issues someone hug them please.

I'm starting to like deputy director he cool man just don't lie to people man, but damn he good at.

Why is Luke called Alvez by everyone it's weird.

Moose aww, I was also suprised the girl was alive.

Tara baby I wanna hug you.

Garcia please talk to him.

David Rossi I love you but why can't you fucking see that JJ and Garcia are not okay. Thank you.

Haha okay when the deputy director speaks and Rossi stares at him I just shkgfybsuajb fall in idk not love maybe I just need to get laid.

Bailey smile is cute haha dumbass I think you might die soon.

Fuck why is Luke in leather hot

The way Emily glance at him damn.

Okay I was hoping for Lesbian Emily this season ugh.

Mm Elias swearing 🥵🥵 holy crap me I'm not good

Nooo where did grace go???

Bitch don't follow the lights you dumbass

Aww I love this girl haha her view of God is great.

Garcia. Okay I know I KNOW we don't like this Tyler Green situation but his smile when she speaks is cute why can't I get a person to smile like that at me.

I love Garcia rambling its so cute.

Tyler getting it is good I like this it's good.

Um no do not go over!!! At least have Emily or JJ over please!! Or even better Luke... jealous Luke...please.

Ugh I'm sorry but I hate it I HATE it when females think they can push or slap other when annoyed or angry and think it's okay but if a man did it oh hell no. Ughhh Elias your wife annoys me.

Omg he was really so close to killing her and that's kinda hot and sad.. and I need therapy.

Grace and Ashley are awwww.

Bailey is cute and Emily Is adorable.

Bailey didn't lie, not suprise love it.

BAILEY I 100% UNDERSTAND I NEED MORE MEN MY DADS AGE TO DISAPOINT TO. but for different reasons...unless you also uhu.

Come and get it Mother fucker 😂

I hope Ashley lives.

Aww Bailey dumbass put pressure on the wound. I know it's late.

He's so sweet 😭😭 if I'm dying can he hold me please.

Oh no another crush on a fictional man ahhhhh noooooo. No no no. Oh fuck it why not.

Elias shot your wife please I don't like her.

He's not leaving for good it'd just a little while damn. Why they crying are they like not use to this. Doesn't he travel alot for work anyway I don't get it? Do I just have trauma and use to this shit?

Rossi ugh fuck you. Like yes Tara needs love but JJ just seems sad like please something wrong.

Holy fuck Will hi I missed you.

Oh shit 😂

I'm sorry but I love them but somethings wrong.

Noooo the case is closed haha Emily won't let that happen.

Tyler fuck off!!!!

He hot tho and the way he looks at her Is kinda cute.

TYLER SHUT UP PLEASE YOU ARE RUINING MY HOPES FOR LUKE.

I mean he's not lying Penelope Garcia also saved my life.

Her smile her smile her smile!

His smile his eyes.

No shut up Garia ew yes hot yes kinky yes I want you to say that to me (and Luke) but not him.

Like I don't like it but at least we finislly get to see Penelopes love life without stupid Kevin because when she dated Sam (season 9 to 11) IT DISAPPEARED.

NO PENELOPE NO! BAD PENELOPE!

Rossi please get some rest, I'm worried.

Oooh his own kill kit

Rossi gonna get himself killed.

Haha neighbor same, omg the song choice nooooo. Omg no no 😂😂

Okay I'm GARCIA! actually no I'm blaming that line on. KIRSTEN VANGSNESS!!!

THIS SCENE IS SO HOT HOLY FUCK.

His grin, the books,the heavy breathing. She totally rided him hard. But his hair isn't messed up weird.

Okay so um thoughts I know we want Derek go come back to knock some sense into Penelope but I don't think he's going to be that good... you know who we need.. we need and I know the Writers are going to really really struggle on this but um what about bringing but... JJ, Emily and Tara. OH WAIT THEY NEVER LEFT BUT SOMEHOW THE FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN THOES FOUR IS COMPLETELY GONE!!!!!!!!!BRING IT BACK! Or at least JJ and Penelope or please please after season 13 Emily just doesn't seem to like JJ any more. WHY?! GIVE ME A REASON AND MY FAMILY BACK.

Also Luke. Why is he even in the show? If your not going to give him much to do your just fucking us off. WE WANT LUKE WE WANT MORE LUKE.

[aajjks]

TC!Jungkook

*It has been days since the Queen was pushed off her three story balcony by the hooded figure. Even if she hasn’t woken up, Jungkook has not left her side once. Between the crying, begging her to awake to the anger of leaving her alone, trusting another soul to keep the one person he loves safe. Nobody can keep her safe like her husband. He should have known better. The palace is eerily quiet. Even with the hooded man thrown away in the dungeon, nobody feels like celebrating. The palace is almost like a ghost town without the King and Queen. On the third day of Yn being in the hospital, she begins to awake from her coma like sleep. Once Jungkook sees her eyes flutter open he rushes to the nearest nurse he sees.*

Good morning your majesty. It’s a great thing to see you’re awake! We thought we lost you there for a minute but I can see you’re a fighter. You probably don’t remember how you got here, you did have a nasty head wound. You hit your head pretty hard. You were pushed off your balcony but don’t worry! He’s been caught and the King will make sure he never breaths the same air as you again, right sir? Now that you have woken up, you are free to go home and finish your recovery with the help of the palaces nurse. I will gather your papers so you can leave. Remember to take it extremely easy! We do recommend you be limited as possible with your mobility as we are putting you on bed rest. Try not to get so worked up over things, just take it easy.

*Arriving back at the palace Jungkook fixes the bed up for Yn, sets the room up for her just the way she likes it, he makes everything perfect for her. His mind is at ease for the first time in days. His Queen is recovering under his watch, she’s recovering well, the bastard has been caught. Speaking of the hooded figure, Jungkook leaves his Queen resting in her bed with Namjoon and Taehyung stationed at the chambers double doors for her regular protection. Jungkook heads to the dungeon to finally release his anger on the one who caused it all. He’s so excited to finally get the bastards blood all over his hands. He hurt Jungkooks wife and for that he’ll die. Hearing the screams of agonizing pain rip out of Woojin while knowing his baby is resting peacefully upstairs in safety makes the whole experience better. The night after Woojin was officially killed Jungkook spent all night and day taking care of his Queen. Only telling her that the man had been caught and killed to put her at ease. Not mentioning the identity of the hooded man considering she actually liked Woojin. After putting Yn to sleep for the night, King Jungkook heads to his office to report Woojin death certificate when he finds a familiar letter on his desk…*

“You killed the wrong man… He it was so amusing to watch you beat that poor man. The anger you wished to take out on me wasted on an innocent man. You’ve killed yet another innocent person… You never fucking learn. But luckily for me, third times the charm…”

Nono no no!

He doesn’t know what to think this cannot be reality, this cannot be happening because he killed the bastard who was bothering him, WHO HURT YOU! so why is he still receiving these letters?

Jungkook feels anger well up once again, And he screams loud, before picking up the vase and throwing it to the wall, “YOU FUCKER I WILL FIND YOU!” He pick up another vase and throw it again and again and again.

Third times the charm? Oh, he will show this bastard.

“Y-Yn!? I need to be with her!” he cries before he can come to you dace enters the kings office, and jungkook is still holding onto that letter, like his life depends on it.

“LOOK AT THIS!” Dace is definitely confused, but he takes the letter from the kings hand and asks for his permission so he can read it. And Jungkook is clenching his fist while dace is reading it, and his reaction tells it all.

[ljsstories]

Chapter Twenty One: In The Dark

It was Thursday, Monica was coming home today. Having to break the news to her dad and sister that she was coming home for the final time was hard on Jane. Particularly when Ricky dipped his head in the sand and it had remained there ever since. He was still recovering from the family chest infection and had been concerned about making Monica ill again, Jane had discussed his fears with the doctor on her ward who told her that she was probably safer at home than she was in the hospital. Basically they needed her bed, and she was dying anyway so what did it matter! At least that's what Jane took from their conversation, which was unfair, all the staff had been wonderful with her mother, but it always came down to needing more beds. Jane didn't visit her mum that day, she was coming home after lunch, instead she made sure that she had clean bedding, plenty of nice things to eat and her family waiting for her. Eliza had spent most of the morning in bed, texting! It was amazing how Jonah jumped to attention two weeks ago after receiving a message from her about their mother, it was as if she had never dumped him, he just slotted back into place but as a friend this time. Jane envied Eliza a little, she had someone who cared texting her day and night from across the pond. Yes Jane had Louise but having someone the way Eliza did, it was different! As Jane sat by her mum's bedroom window waiting for the ambulance to arrive, her dad popped his head into the room, "Any sign?"

"No." Jane sighed, it was almost 2pm and Monica was due home by 12pm. "Do you think I should phone the ward again?"

"Maybe, it would be nice to know what the hold up is!" Ricky shrugged as Jane stood up and made her way to the hall phone. It turned out that the waiting was for an actual ambulance, it seemed like it was a busy day. The NHS was a wonderful thing but it was stretched to the limits, Jane's mum had always said that the worst decision they ever made was to take the matrons off the wards. Jane was so proud of her mother; she had been a brilliant nurse and had so many stories to tell. Where Monica had lived her life to the full, Jane had merely existed. Having a mother with mental health issues wasn't easy, by the time Jane was a teenager she was taking care of Monica by just being there, being moral support. She would even go so far as to say that she was her mother's crutch, but by clinging on to her daughter Monica suffocated her. She sheltered her too much, did too much so that Jane would stay and depend on her mum just as much as her mum depended on her. As she remained at the window watching out for the ambulance, which could arrive at any time or so she had been told, she thought about the time she had planned on applying for a job at the O2 arena in London doing bar work. Monica had told her it was a ridiculous idea.

"You can't do that!" She had exclaimed, "I don't think that it's for you! You won't like it Janey!" Yet Monica took off to London to become a district nurse and midwife when she was younger than Jane was at the time. Double standards! Now was not the time to be bitter, this was it, the end of the line. She was losing her mother very soon; she was coming home to die!

***

"So how are you enjoying the visits?"

"Yeah, great!" Jensen smiled weakly, sinking further and further into the chair, "Well, apart from my mom trying to shove cookies in my mouth and telling me I need fattened up...everything's great!" Jenna smiled and turned her attention to Jonah.

"Jonah, I hear you're back in touch with Eliza? How is that going?" Jonah's face broke into a massive grin at the mention of Eliza's name and he looked down at the carpet, slapping the palms of his hands on his thighs with a chuckle.

"Awesome!" Screwing his eyes shut and smiling even more, he nodded his head and rocked back and forth on the chair like a bashful little boy with a crush. "We're getting along!"

"Did she say what prompted her to reach out?" Jonah was very secretive about that, he didn't even want to tell Jenna, "Are you two back together or..."

"No, no nothing like that she...well she missed me I suppose. I sure as hell missed her! With her mom..." He trailed off and his eyes darted over in Jensen's direction, "...it's just a tough time for her and rather than burden Jane with how she's feeling, she'll text me and offload, y'know?" Why was Jonah being so...weird? Jensen shook his head in confusion and stared at the cactus on Jenna's coffee table, he would never understand his brother, even if he lived to be a thousand years old, he'd never understand how Jonah's mind worked! After the session, which once again was productive, he decided to probe Jonah for information.

"So how's everything over there? How are Jane and Eliza doing? How's their mom?"

"Whoa dude, what's with the twenty questions, huh? Pick one, geez!" Jonah was being extremely sketchy, usually he would babble away and show off how much he knew to get Jensen's hackles up, but this time he was keeping everything close to the vest.

"I just wanted to know how it's going, I'm sorta in the dark here bro! I think about Jane a lot and...well I'd love to call her but I don't wanna overwhelm her..." Before he could finish his sentence, Jonah was nodding and smacking him hard on the back.

"Yeah, that's good, no you don't wanna do that! She's busy with stuff and-and y'know how stressed she can get!" Did he ever, it annoyed him that Jonah did too though, he liked sharing little secrets with Jane...and big ones...like abduction and stalking! Well Jensen's stalking wasn't exactly a secret, but only two other people on the planet knew what had happened to him during those ten days: Doctor Jenna Riley and Jane Thomson! It was going to stay that way until he drew his last breath, Jonah and Eliza could never know, not ever! Jonah took off and left Jensen with his thoughts, Juliet was visiting later that day and she was bringing Sweater Boy with her. It still made his blood boil that that big douche canoe was dating his sister! He had no idea what she saw in a lanky wet lettuce like Charlie Dean.

When visiting time came along, Juliet looked like she had the whole world on her shoulders as she sat down beside him in the day room. "Hey sis, I thought you were bringing Sweat...um Charlie with you?"

"Jensy I have something to tell you, we were both going to tell you but then I thought about...well...I think that it's best just coming from me!" What the fuck was going on? First Sketchy Jonah and now this?

"Jules, you've got me worried, please just tell me!" Juliet looked all over the room, anywhere but at him as she placed a hand on her stomach and closed her eyes.

"I'm pregnant Jensy!" She replied in almost a whisper as Jensen let out an involuntary laugh.

"You're-you're-you're what?" He blinked, stuttering out the words.

"I'm pregnant!" She shouted, a little too loudly as a couple of people turned to stare at them. Jensen stood up and took his sister by the arm.

"Let's go for a walk!"

Out in the huge garden, Jensen and Juliet walked to Landon Ellis' favourite spot. Many times, they had sat here shooting the breeze on this very bench, now he was going to lose his shit on it. He sat down and patted the space beside him, not saying a word, trying to carefully string a sentence together that wouldn't upset her. As she lowered herself slowly down beside him, she looked at him then, from the corner of his eye he saw it. His head remained forward, staring at Landon's favourite rose bush, that guy had a lot of favourites! He remained silent as Juliet wrung her hands on her lap, then she spoke, "Jensy? Will you please say something?" There was panic in her voice, why did she care what he thought? He wasn't their father! He still remained silent, waiting for all the expletives to leave his brain, if truth be told he was furious with her. "Jensy please!!!" She whimpered, twisting her body in his direction, still wringing her hands. Jensen shot a dirty look in her direction and tried to keep it together.

"What do you want me to say Jules? That you're an idiot?" Juliet's eyes widened.

"No..."

"That you've been irresponsible? That in this century and at your age you should know better?"

"Jensy..."

"No Jules this is some bullshit! Don't you ever lecture me about being impulsive again! Don't ever give me your speech about responsibility again!!!" Juliet began to cry as Jensen could only see red, "Who's the father? Is it Sweater Boy? Huh?" Juliet nodded, looking a little insulted.

"Of course, who else?"

"I don't know, I have no idea what or who you're doing lately, I'm in here remember???" He shook his head in disappointment.

"I want this baby Jensy, I'm going to keep it no matter what!" Juliet exclaimed defiantly, with a sniffle she stood up and grabbed her purse, "I think I should go..." Jensen shot up and grabbed hold of her wrist.

"No! Jules please, I'm sorry I...don't go! Look you didn't have to tell me about this until I got out, which is in a couple of weeks, so why did you?" Juliet turned her head and gazed into his eyes with a hint of sadness.

"I needed someone objective, mom and Charlie are over the moon and Jonah is...well Jonah, all he cares about right now is Eliza! I needed you Jensy! Just to talk to, I never expected this reaction..." She shook her head woefully, he'd truly fucked up, again!

"Then talk to me, I'll listen I just...well you're always scolding me about making rash decisions and...I'm listening, please sit down?" Juliet nodded and they sat together for a while. She explained that it was an accident, she never intended to get pregnant at this moment in time but when she took the test, she knew that it was meant to be.

"I knew I wanted this baby more than I've ever wanted anything! Jensy, I don't know if Charlie is the one, maybe he is and maybe he isn't, but this baby..." Her smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about this life growing inside of her, she wanted it so much and he could see that, how could he have yelled at her like that? Because Juliet was always the responsible one, the one who always had her shit together while cleaning up the messes that her younger brothers made. That was the way it always worked in their family, especially after their dad left.

"I support you Jules, in whatever you decide, you always have me! I love you and I'm gonna love this little sweater wearin' kid of yours too!" Juliet laughed a little as she wiped under her eyes with both index fingers, "Whether it works out with sweater daddy or not, I'll be there!" As he put a protective brotherly arm around her, she leaned her head on his shoulder and let out a huge sigh.

"That means so much, thank you Jensy! I want you to be happy about this, it's important to me!" Well, he was her favourite brother after all, or so she had told him, but why would she lie? She'd never lied to him before, and this baby news, she could have kept it to herself until he got out but she didn't.

Jensen's hopes of getting out in the next couple of weeks were dashed when Doctor Riley informed him that she needed to end his sessions with Jonah and concentrate on him one on one. Jensen just wanted out, this was getting tiresome, but he had promised to do whatever Jenna told him to do to get out of this place. He decided to call his mentor and get some advice, as usual he was a mixture of helpful and cryptic, "Do what needs to be done brother, the professionals know what they're talkin' about kiddo! Don't be in such a rush to leave, you'll only have to return quicker and nobody wants that!" Actually Landon was making a lot of sense this time, if Jensen left too early he might end up back in. So he was going to obey the good Doctor.

"Thanks Landon, as always you've been a big help!"

"Hey, it's what I'm here for my little protégé!" Having Landon Ellis in his life was a gift, it was like conversing with a past life that knew how the story ended. They were so alike! Jensen felt a little better having spoken with him, but still bummed that he had a longer wait to be discharged.

***

Jane was not coping very well at all; her mother went down hill almost the minute she returned home that Thursday evening. Ricky was devastated to watch her being wheeled into the house in a hospital bed, not a chair like before. Trying to get her medication into her was nigh on impossible as she kept falling asleep and when Jane tried to wake her, she was grumpy and abusive, "Leave me alone! Jane just leave me alone!" She whined and hit out at her, eyes screwed shut, "You're a pure pest Jane Thomson, a pure pest!" Jane cried that night; Monica didn't want to eat either. By the Sunday Jane had begun thinking about putting her into the hospice in Ayr, she truly felt that she couldn't cope, despite having carers in three times a day it was just too much for her. She felt like a failure, Eliza and Ricky were fine with whatever she decided, but Jane wasn't. Diane, the palliative care nurse came at Jane's request to discuss going down the hospice route. With her soothing Irish lilt, Diane said that she would happily put Monica on the list for a bed but it could take a while, she strongly recommended that she remain at home.

"With regards to the medication, I can arrange a syringe pump." At the mention of this, Ricky nodded, a syringe driver or pump was something that Monica herself had pushed for at the cottage hospital in Millport. It was a device that made end of life care easier for both the patient and the carer. It meant that Jane no longer had to worry about getting Monica's medication down her, the pump would do that for her. Ricky mumbled something under his breath out of Eliza's ear shot.

"This is the end!" Jane looked over at him as Diane chatted away to a semi-conscious Monica, stroking her hand tenderly. "The pump, that's the end!" He repeated sadly and left the room. Diane had also arranged for the district nurses to visit and see to the syringe driver and give Jane some extra support. She talked to the girls about death and how they should try not to see it as a sad thing but to celebrate Monica's life. Jane wasn't there yet, she didn't know about Eliza, but Jane wasn't there by a long shot. Diane also mentioned that the body would slowly shut down, no longer needing food or water and to let nature take its course. Jane had voiced her concerns that Monica would only eat a yoghurt or a mousse a day and that was it. This was natural according to the professional, but still Jane had this obsession with making her mother eat. As she saw Diane out, she turned to Jane as she opened the front door and smiled, taking hold of her hand and squeezing it affectionately.

"You're doing a great job Jane, be proud, your mum would be! It won't be long now, take care love and I'm always just a phone call away. You're doing the right thing, keeping her at home. There's not much more the hospice can do that you're not doing already." It won't be long now, five simple words that made everything all the more real for Jane, it won't be long now!

The pump did indeed make things easier for Jane, she no longer had to worry about her mum's medication, she just had that other worry hanging over her, Monica's lack of food consumption. The district nurses echoed what the palliative care nurse had said, just go with the flow and don't force things, if she wanted a mousse then give her one, if not then don't stress about it. Monica's limbs grew weak, she could barely hold a cup to drink and she was determined to hold it. There had been major spillages because she was so stubborn and wouldn't let Jane help her. Eventually Jane had to spoon feed her, she kept her eyes shut the whole time and Jane had to tap her teeth gently to get her to open her mouth wide enough for the spoon to go in. Some days she was lucid and other days she was like a child. She was completely bed ridden and would often forget, ordering Jane to take her to the toilet and having to be told that she was to stay there. Lying to her mum was heart breaking, telling her that she was to stay in bed because she was recovering from an infection and she needed to get stronger. Lies! Louise was in on the lies when Monica became distressed and the nurses were called out. They gave her a new drug called Midazolam that was to help with agitation and give Jane a better night's sleep. Louise told her it was antibiotics to help with her infection and that she would be out in the garden in no time. All lies! Both girls felt terrible, but it was a necessary evil!

In amongst the sadness, there was laughter too. The Morphine made Monica say funny things, turning to Louise and saying, "What do we do if we want to leave?"

"What's that Monica?"

"What do we do if we want to leave?" She repeated, her eyes wide.

"I don't know, leave where?"

"I don't think I like this job very much!" Jane and Louise had no idea what she was talking about but she seemed to have forgotten all about it within seconds.

As the weeks went by, Monica became less and less like Monica. She told the carers that Jane was trying to kill her, she also turned on the carers yelling "Stop it, stop attacking me!" as they tried to wash her and apply barrier cream to her skin. They laughed it off, having known her before the Morphine and being used to awkward patients. Jane was extremely embarrassed and continuously apologised. Four weeks after Monica had been discharged from hospital, Jane had to call out a doctor. Her mum's breathing became shallow and it sounded like she had contracted another chest infection, she was gurgling and it was distressing Eliza. The doctor prescribed something for it and contacted the district nurses to come and administer it. When they were leaving, they took Jane into the back room to speak with her.

"Do you know what to do in the event of your mum passing away in the night?" Jane shook her head like a robot as the nurses told her what number to call and what to say. Louise saw them out and they sat with Monica playing her favourite songs. She was in and out of consciousness most of the time and could no longer speak. Jane put her bed down close to the floor so that Daisy could come in and lick her mummy on the arm. Every time she did, Monica opened her eyes. Ricky was in denial, Louise tried to tell him that time was running out but he barely sat in the room.

During Monica Thomson's final day on earth, someone was holding her hand, someone was with her, someone was talking to her, someone was loving her. She was never left alone for a moment. Jane eventually dozed off after 1am, sitting on her mum's recliner, holding her hand. She was awoken suddenly, aware that she was no longer holding her hand, and turned to her mother to see that she wasn't breathing. Jane placed a hand on Monica's chest and she unexpectedly took a deep breath. Rushing to the back room, she grabbed her phone at the bottom of the stair and dialled her dad's mobile to tell him to come down at once, it was quicker than going upstairs. She knocked hard on Eliza's door and returned to her mother. Joined by her father and sister, Jane held her mum's hand and whispered I love you in her ear. Ricky took his wife's other hand as they stood around her bed. Monica Thomson breathed her last breath at 3:30am that Friday morning. She was finally at peace.

***

Jensen was looking forward to seeing his visitor, Ian was coming, he hadn't seen him for ages and he couldn't wait to catch up with him, he'd visited a couple of times but not enough for them to have a real catch-up. As his very large driver strode towards him in the day room, the frown on his face was concerning. "Awright boss? Long time no see eh?" He greeted Jensen flatly while nodding down at him.

"Ian, it's great to see you again!" The frown remained on his face as Jensen stood up and shook his hand.

"Aye, listen boss is there somewhere we can talk in private?" That didn't sound good.

"Yeah, we can go to my room!" Ian nodded solemnly and followed Jensen out of the day room. As they sat in private, Ian fiddled with the zipper on his black bomber jacket and looked down at the carpet. "Ian what's up?"

"Well, a came tae gie ye a piece a ma mind aboot the windaes! A had tae huv them fitted masel and...well it disnae matter!" He waved a large paw and leaned back on the chair in the corner of Jensen's room.

"I-I'm sorry I..." Before he could finish his apology, Ian spoke over the top of it.

"A huv tae tell ye somethin' boss, Jonah wanted to come and tell ye but it wiz ma turn tae visit so..." What had happened? He was starting to get worried, having no phone and no access to the outside world other than controlled calls and visits, Jensen felt very much in the dark about everything. He had some news too, good news, he was getting out on Monday and he couldn't wait but judging by Ian's demeanour, something bad had happened.

"What is it?" Jensen stared Ian down as he continued to look anywhere but at him, wringing his sweaty hands and taking deep breaths.

"Jane's mum passed away twelve hours ago..." Jensen felt lightheaded, the room began to spin and Ian's silhouette started to blur, "...it wiz peaceful, she wiz back home wie the family so..."

"Why? Where had she been?" Jensen was confused, hadn't she always been at home with Jane taking care of her?

"Oh, she wiz admitted intae hospital a few weeks ago, they told Jane there wiz no more they could do for her. Am sorry boss, yer family didnae want tae wait tae tell ye so a offered." Jensen stared at the blurred figure talking to him, there was a ringing in his ears and a voice saying over and over, I have to go to her, but it was impossible, he wasn't getting out for another three days! "Boss? Are ye awright?"

"Y-yeah I...didn't know she'd been back in hospital...nobody...told me!"

"Aye, Jonah didnae want tae upset ye, but they felt ye needed tae know about this!" Yes, he fucking did need to know, about everything! How dare they keep this from him! All this time he thought that Jane was doing okay, that Monica was doing relatively okay despite the circumstances, but that wasn't the case! His family kept him in the dark, how fucking dare they!

"I don't get out until Monday, I...will you call Jane for me? Give her a message?" The ringing continued as Jensen struggled to swallow.

"Sure boss, anything!" Ian leaned forward, waiting for his instructions.

"Tell her...tell her..." Tell her what? What could he possibly say that would help her at this moment in time? She'd just lost her mother after months of nursing her, how did anything coming from him matter in the slightest? "...it doesn't matter I...like I said I get out Monday so..."

"That's great boss, A'll tell yer mum!" Well yeah, someone had to pick him up, he wasn't exactly going to walk home! Poor Jane, all he could think about was her. His own good news didn't matter a damn anymore, he wished that he could pick up the phone and call her but he didn't know if that was the right thing to do or not. He was so torn, as Ian rambled on about the cost of windows his head was still spinning. What Jane must be going through, it was the only thing on his mind, how much he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her he was there for her. How dare his family keep him in the dark like that? She must have thought he didn't care, when all along he had no clue her mother was back in hospital, he was so angry! Jonah was going to get a piece of his mind when he got out!

Monday came around very slowly. Jensen was packed and ready to go home as he spotted his brother striding towards him, "Hey, you ready to go?" Jensen nodded, unable to speak to him after all the deception and walked in front of him towards the exit. As Jonah drove along the scenic road just past the rehab centre, Jensen noticed he was going in the opposite direction, damn he would have to talk to him now!

"Jonah, my house is over there?" He pointed behind them as Jonah nodded.

"I know bro, we're not going there. You're gonna stay with mom for a little while until..."

"BULLSHIT!!!" Jensen yelled, what was this all about? Why was this happening?

"Hey, don't you start okay? There's a lot of stuff going on right now, just behave!" How dare he! How dare he talk to him like he was a toddler!

"Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that???"

"Your brother who is doing what is best for you Jensen, that's who the fuck I am! Don't you forget it! Now, I don't have time for your tantrums, Jane and Eliza have just lost their mom! Get a fucking grip!" As if he didn't know that, why was Jonah trying to make him out to be some kind of bad guy who didn't care? He cared; he cared a great deal! "So, are you gonna stay with mom and act like a grown up?" Jensen leaned his arm on the passenger door and stared out the window.

"Of course, what do you take me for?" He muttered.

"I won't answer that dude!" Jonah sighed as they headed to their mother's house. So he wasn't trusted to live alone even though he'd done it for over a decade? Great, just great!

Steph had baked a mountain of cookies, cupcakes and cherry pie to greet her middle child. Obviously, she was still on her mission to fatten Jensen up. It was true that his weight had dropped slightly during his rehab stint but when he was stressed, he didn't want to eat. If people would just relax around him things would go better. "Honey, you look good!" His mother gave him a hug and squeezed him all over, "Huh, you could do with a bit more meat on them bones but apart from that..."

"Mom, I'm fine!" He insisted as Jonah was glued to his phone again, almost tripping over Jensen's bags. "Should I call Jane?" Steph wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"No honey, you should concentrate on yourself for a little bit, yeah?" Why was she talking to him like he was a child? What was going on with her voice? If she pinched his cheek he was out of there!

"But mom..."

"Just let your brother handle it, okay?" Why? What was wrong with him showing his support for Jane when she needed it the most? Why was everyone being weird around him? Speaking of weird, in came Juliet with her arms out for a hug.

"Jensy, you're looking good!" Trapped in her embrace, his suspicions were getting the better of him.

"Okay what's going on here?" Juliet put on a fake smile and blinked.

"Nothing, we're just happy to have you home Jensy, that's all!" Jensen stared his sister down until she finally cracked, "Okay, Ian said you were a little...off when he last saw you!" Off? No he was pissed, pissed that his family were hiding stuff from him, "We didn't want to set you back but...no seriously you do look good, are you good?"

"I'm fine, I am not made of fragile glass, I will not break! Just...act normal, please?" Juliet's smile was genuine now as she grabbed his hand and placed it on her growing stomach.

"Say hi to your niece or nephew, hiiiiii Uncle Jensy!" Well, this was definitely normal!

"Just ignore her, she's been doing that for weeks!" Jonah sighed and threw himself down on the couch.

"Cookies?" His mother came breezing back into the living room with a plate piled high. Yep, definitely normal!

***

There was so much to do! A funeral to arrange, a death certificate to sign, people to notify! Eliza was the only one who hadn't cried, she was still in shock. Even though a loved one was terminal, it didn't make it any easier when they eventually passed away, it was never easy. Louise stayed for a few days to help out. Jane and Ricky went to the funeral directors without Eliza, she was still young, Jane didn't think it was fair to put that on her. She happened to be texting back and forth with Jonah anyway, which made Jane wonder about Jensen. Was he out of rehab yet? Was he okay? Her questions were answered when she received a short direct message, like she had when her mother was first hospitalised, giving his condolences and that he was always there for her if she wanted to talk. She did, but he was just out of rehab, he had his own problems. So letting him see that she had read it was enough for now, he would understand why she couldn't, or wouldn't, reply. He knew her by now, surely.

After the visit to the funeral directors, Louise took Jane out to give her a break. She bought three black dresses, all different, as she didn't really have one at home. She'd only ever been to one funeral before, her grandfather's, she chickened out of going to Will's. Scared she would burst into tears and make a fool of herself in front of his poor mother, she opted to stay at home. A decision she still regretted. She bought a load of ice cream and a runny chocolate cake to follow the hot dogs they were having for dinner that night. Jane was very sad and at a loss over what to do with herself, but she tried to be cheery for Eliza's sake who still hadn't cried and it had been two days. Having nursed their mother for so long, Jane found herself feeling guilty for sitting around then had to remind herself that that part of her life was over, she no longer had to be someone's nurse. The constant visits from carers and NHS workers had stopped, she had the house to herself albeit with her best friend, sister and dad, she could lock the storm doors any time she liked now without having to wait for anyone dropping in. Her life was her own again...but her mum was gone! What a price to pay for freedom!

She was worried about Eliza, a week on and still she was yet to shed a tear. She just seemed empty, no sadness or anger, just apathy. She would text Jonah, sometimes talk to him, but only for short periods of time. Jane would ask about Jensen but Eliza would just shrug and say he was fine and that he was thinking of her, Jane was still none the wiser about his wellbeing or whereabouts. All she knew was that he was finally out of rehab and not lying in a pool of his own vomit. Her mother's funeral was in a week's time, maybe then both she and Eliza would get some closure. Although Jane knew in her heart that her life would never be the same without her mum.

***

Jensen was tearing his hair out at his mother's; she was constantly force feeding him sugary substances and lecturing him on everything! Jonah was moping around while Juliet was in baby mama mode bossing Sweater Boy around and preparing for her first ultrasound. She was just over twelve weeks pregnant and driving everyone crazy. Jensen was looking forward to being an uncle but at the same time very envious of his sister. He still wanted to have his own, that hadn't changed in the slightest especially after chatting with Landon about his experience as a father. Sarah was due in the next month or so and Jensen imagined that Landon was stressing out right about now. It made him chuckle to himself at the thought of Landon Ellis getting stressed, he was such a cool dude. Watching Jonah scroll through his phone looking forlorn, he struggled to feel sorry for him, he got to talk to the girl of his dreams while Jensen had to make do with Jane having seen his message. He wasn't insulted that she hadn't answered, hurt maybe but not insulted. Losing someone, a parent, must be awful. Jensen's mother got on his nerves but he'd be absolutely lost without her. Jane was always on his mind, every minute of every day, the thought of her grieving broke his heart. He understood Jonah's mood, he was the moodiest he'd ever been, looking like he was about to burst into tears every time anyone mentioned Eliza's name. Yes, Jensen understood, although Jonah was more than happy to bring up the fact that he'd actually dated Eliza where Jensen had merely stalked her sister. There was far more to it than that and nobody would ever know the extent of his bond with Jane Thomson, nobody would ever know what really happened two years ago on a Scottish island, and that was the way that Jensen liked it!

Juliet arrived back from her appointment barking orders at poor Sweater Boy, what was he thinking? Not poor Sweater Boy, he got his sister pregnant! Nope, no sympathy for him! They were grown adults; they knew what they were doing. The fact that Charlie would nod nervously in Jensen's direction and avoid all contact was amusing to him, he enjoyed it immensely. "Well, baby's fine!" Juliet announced rather loudly in his ear, "Jensy? We're both good, thanks for asking!"

"You literally just got in the door Jules!" Jensen gave her a puzzled look and instinctively put his hand out to touch her belly. After that initial awkward moment when he first got out of rehab, he couldn't keep away from his unborn niece or nephew, it was very odd. Jonah wasn't really that fussed, but Jensen was fascinated, especially now Juliet was starting to show a little. It wasn't much, you had to look really hard, but there it was, like she'd eaten way too much at Thanksgiving. She was so proud of it that she deliberately wore tight clothing to show it off. "Hey there little one! Your momma's crazy and your daddy..." Jensen raised his eyes towards Sweater Boy as he talked to his sister's stomach, "...well he's a douche bag!"

"Jensen, that's not appropriate!" Charlie mumbled and pushed his glasses up his nose with a frown. No, what was not appropriate was this ass hat impregnating his sister. Jensen knew he had to get over that, but he was so annoying. Again Jonah wasn't bothered, the only overprotective brother around was Jensen, it made him look a little obsessive but he didn't care. This lanky quack was supposed to be his therapist, not his sister's sperm donor!

"I'll be the judge of what is and what isn't appropriate, okay? Guy who's screwing my sister and got her in trouble!" Sweater Boy blushed and looked down at the carpet. That shut him up, but only for a few seconds as he stood up straight to his full height of 6ft 2in and clenched both of his fists that were dangling on either side of his body.

"Now Jensen, I feel it's time we cleared the air!" He stammered, still standing tall, towering over Jensen, all 6 foot of him.

"Oh do you? Sweater Boy?" He said it, he called Charlie Dean his nickname right to his face for the first time. It felt good!

"I love your sister Jensen!" Juliet let out a small gasp as Jensen turned to her and raised an eyebrow. Remembering the conversation they had when he was still in rehab; I don't know if Charlie is the one, maybe he is and maybe he isn't...

"Charlie!" She breathed, her mouth gaped open and she lifted her hands up to cover it.

"I do Juliet, I love you! In fact..." He shoved Jensen aside and threw himself down on one knee in front of Juliet, oh shit, Jensen thought to himself. Producing a little red velvet box, he looked up at her with determination, "Juliet Patricia Reed..." This wasn't going to end well! "...will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Jensen didn't know about Juliet, but he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him, where was Jonah and his mother? Why was he here to witness this car crash alone? As Juliet stood covering her mouth, her blue eyes threatening to pop out of her head, Jensen could see Charlie begin to perspire around his hairline.

"J-Juliet?" Yeah, this was bad, "Darling? Mother of my unborn child? What do you say?" Oh the guilt trip, smooth Mr Psychologist, real smooth! Juliet still remained silent, looking down at the little box, her stomach heaving in and out dangerously fast. Finally she found her voice.

"Charlie I..." Here it comes, oh this was embarrassing, Jensen didn't like the guy but he wasn't looking forward to witnessing this epic rejection, "...YES!" Juliet squealed, WHAT??? Now it was Jensen's turn to catch flies, she said yes??? As his sister hopped up and down, Charlie produced a beautiful ruby red engagement ring and slid it onto her finger. Jensen attempted to leave before the slobbery kisses began. What the fuck? Then Jonah appeared clasping his phone, followed by their mother. Juliet and Charlie didn't get a chance to tell them their shocking news when Jonah made his announcement.

"That was Eliza, the funeral is a week today!" The room was silent, Juliet played with her shiny new ring with a sad expression while looking down at the living room carpet, Charlie nodded solemnly and Jensen...Jensen wanted so badly to be with Jane!

⏮️Previous/Next⏭️

[artzee-bee]

Now and for eternity| Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer ( netflix)

Request:” Can you write an imagine where Lucifer’s wife is like this well known social light that owns her own luxury fashion brand and she starts receiving gifts from an obsessed secret admirer and Lucifer is unknowingly being targeted by the secret admirer who is trying to kill Lucifer in order to get the reader and Lucifer thinks it’s his father trying to ‘strike’ him down for some unknown reason until Chloe point out someone that correlates with the readers secret admirer and Lucifer’s attacker. Feeling some type away about it Lucifer decides to taunt the secret admirer by upping the PDA and romantic gestures getting a kick out in it much to Chloe’s dismay. And once the secret admirer is caught Lucifer rubs it in their face that the reader is his for now and all of eternity before showing the secret admirer his true face. ”

Genre: fluff? I guess

Warnings:death threats, stalking, attempted murder

~~~

It wasn’t unusual to receive gifts and flowers at your office. After all, with the job you worked and the wealthy people you collaborated with, the presents simply represented one of the many perks of being a designer. Except, one friday morning, while examining a particularly beautiful bouquet of pink lilies, you noticed the little card that came with it

“I know they are some of your favorite - <3 “

Usually, work associates would leave a name. Some way for you to know that they value your work and are thinking of you (and maybe to flatter you into giving them a discount), but there was no name on this card, just a tiny heart in a glittery, pink gel pen. Pink lilies were, indeed, your favorite.

You brought the flowers home and told your husband, Lucifer, all about the mysterious gift. You had talked to your secretary and even she didn’t know where the flowers came from, since no one came to drop off lilies that morning. You presumed the sender must have simply forgotten to sign the card, and perhaps your secretary had forgotten about them, with the busy morning she’d had. You and Lucifer had a laugh, imagining the shy and anxious intern that was probably assigned the job, and the scolding they’ll get when their boss finds out about their mistake.

The next morning, a box of your favorite chocolates were waiting for you on your desk. There wasn’t any note, just the same heart, written in the same glitter pen. You dismissed it as a weird coincidence and moved on to working on your designs.

Without you knowing, this also happened to be the first time Lucifer would be faced with a very interesting note. As he was getting ready to leave the police station, he noticed a piece of yellow paper, stuck to his windshield

“Back off of Y/N. Consider this your first and last warning” no signature. Anyone in Lucifer’s place would have lost their shit, but he paid it no mind. He was the devil after all! If anyone wants to take his precious Y/N away from him, well, they can try. It would make things all the more fun. He folded the paper and stuffed it in his pocket before heading home.

The couple shared Y/N’s chocolates that night, talking about who this person might be. Lucifer wasn’t as amused as he had been the night before, if anything he was rather concerned but he didn’t want to say anything about the note to Y/N, because she would freak out. 

Nothing really happened for the next week. Anonymous gifts stopped showing up at Y/N’s office, Lucifer didn’t get any more notes and things were falling back in their place, until the day right after Y/N’s latest photoshoot went public and viral. It was all to promote her upcoming clothing line. As soon as she walked into the office the next day, she spotted a red, velvet box, the size of a notebook, in the middle of her desk. On top of it, a note written in the same glittery pink as the other gifts

“Congratulations on your new line. Those photos are gorgeous - J.P. <3”

Inside the box was a gorgeous diamond necklace, looking like it was worth millions. If you hadn’t been concerned about the sudden apparition of all these gifts so far, you sure were now. You immediately called your husband to tell him about the mysterious jewelry, but he didn’t pick up. Unbeknown to you, he was busy ranting to detective Decker.

“I mean, not to be dramatic, detective, but the situation does feel like it’s spiralling out of control. Death threats, sure, those come every other weekend, kind of like fanmail, y’know? But actual gun shots fired at my head, well, that’s where I draw the line.” he ended with a giggle. Lucifer was leaning on Decker’s desk as she was examining the bullet casings Lucifer had brought her from his apparent ‘attempted assasination’

“Where did this happen again?” she said, not taking her eyes off of her work

“Right by that coffee shop ms. Lopez always talks about. I may have lost a bet to her the other day and have to get her coffee for the rest of the week, so I was just exiting the shop when a masked man in a dark blue BMW zoomed by, pointing his gun at me and shooting blindly. I mean, that is the most basic attemp at murder I have ever witnessed. At least make it interesting!”

“Lucifer, if someone is out for your life, it’s serious business”

“Why would it be? It’s not like I can actually die, detective! Plus, it’s probably not that deep anyways. Just, dear old dad coming after me again for no particular reason. Very characteristic of him.”

“ You’re getting ahead of yourself. Whoever sent this wants you and Y/N apart, why would your dad want that?”

“Because he’s a prick who disagrees with everything and anything that makes me happy?” Lucifer concludes with an innocent smile “And, of course, Y/N being moral, our marriage goes against the heavenly rules of the almighty, so he’s trying to break us apart, but worry not detective! Me and Y/N are stronger and more in love than ever. My father will simply have to accept that. Nothing will break us apart” he said, puffing his chest out with confidence

“That’s good to hear Lucifer, but I still think we should stay open to different possibilities”

“Oh, come on detective, that would be a waste of our time. I know my father better than anyone, believe me when I tell you this is his hand and no one else's. Case closed! Now, let’s move to the next one! Chop chop detective, murders won’t solve themselves!” Lucifer said, marching out of the precinct. Chloe rolled her eyes at her partner, before hiding the bullets and the note in her desk and going after him.

Although it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but notice how much more touchy Lucifer had been with you, ever since the necklace incident. He needed to touch you at all times: when you were out for coffee, at lunch, at the station, in your office, in Lux. His hand was always either around your waist or tangled in yours. You felt sort of bad, thinking he must be a little insecure with this secret admirer being after you at all times, but you wanted him to know that you loved him more than anything and that no matter what, you would never leave him for a faceless man, no matter how many pearls and chocolates he bribes you with. And so, you decided to play along with him, giving him as much attention as you could. Your visits at the station almost doubled, you always cleared your schedule to make time for him and even decided to start work later in  the day than usual, so you could spend more time with him in the morning. 

One afternoon, as you were enjoying your time with Decker and Lucifer during their lunch time, one of the notes from your secret admirer slipped out of your pocket. You didn’t realise it until Chloe picked it up

“Oh, I was going to throw that out”

“Where’s this from?” she asked, studying the note

“Just one of this week's gifts” you confessed awkwardly. Without a second thought, the detective reached for her drawer, pulling out another note from inside and inspecting them side by side. Eventually, she placed them both in front of Lucifer

“Notice something interesting about the writing?”

“They are remarkably similar…”

“More like identical”

“What is that?” you asked, looking at the unknown note. Your heart sank as you read it

“I’ll explain everything at home dear, I swear” Lucifer said

“You’ve received death threats because of me?”

“I’ll tell you everything at home, I promise”

“You have initials…” Decker noticed

“Yeah, ever since my photoshoot, they’re present on every package”

“What floor is your office on again?”

“5th, why?”

“How can someone enter your office every morning without anyone, not even your secretary noticing, and exit just as mysteriously?” “Unless he found a different way in” Lucifer replied

“My window” you realise “You can step out directly onto the emergency staircase from there”

“He knew when to sneak in without being seen, so he must have known your schedule like the back of his hand. Who could know?”

“The only people who know it are my secretary and Lucifer”

“A stalker?” your husband suggested

“Maybe” Decker turned quickly to her computer “I’m going to check any business owners around that neighbourhood who could have had a close shot of when you enter and exit your studio, see if any initially match the ones on the notes. We’ll go from there” 

You thanked Chloe for the help and went home with Lucifer, who spent the entire car ride explaining the note to you and the events of the previous days. You were angry at him for keeping all of it away from you, but ultimately happy that he was safe. You spent the night drinking wine and rewatching all of your comfort movies, to calm your nerves.

You decided to try working from home for the next couple of days, too scared by the idea of a stranger following your every move. It was a challenging process but Lucifer did his best in helping you get accustomed to this new routine. His homemade meals could not compare to anything you would eat while in a meeting with your business associates. Plus, the company was much more delightful.

Chloe texted you, almost a week later, to come down to the station as quickly as possible. They had found the guy. You hopped into your car and when you finally arrived, Lucifer was waiting for you outside

“They found him?” 

“Yes dear, they did”

“How?”

“Well, as it turns out he lived in the apartment building next door. His living room window had a great view of everything happening in your office. We’ve found a week’s worth of gifts he was planning to deliver. It’s him for sure” 

“Thank you” you whispered before collapsing into Lucifer’s arms and hugging him tight

“It’s alright lovely. It’s over now. Let’s go see how the detective is handling it. I think they’re in the interrogation room now.”

From behind the glass, you watched the man that threatened your marriage and your husband's life, confess to everything. Admit to stalking you, in order to learn your schedule. Break into your office and open fire on Lucifer. More than enough to get him behind bars for a long time. Decker and Lucifer got up and were ready to leave, but your husband requested a couple of minutes alone with the man. The detective agreed, cautioning him to not do something stupid, before leaving them alone. Lucifer turned on his heels to face the man in handcuffs and you could instantly tell he was furious

“Truly an honorable try. Y/N is one of a kind, you were right about that, the only detail you missed is that, you see, she’s taken. By me” the mischievous smile on his face let you know that he was up to no good “Our bond is indestructible and it’s really laughable to think that you’ve risked so much to tear us apart when you didn’t stand a chance to begin with” Lucifer leaned over the table, now his back was facing you “Me and Y/N are, and forever will be, together. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change that. She is mine and I am hers, now and for eternity” as his little speech came to an end, you noticed the man in handcuffs go pale with terror. He began shaking in his chair, screaming incoherently about the devil. Even tho you hadn’t see what your husband did, you could tell by the man’s reaction. You laughed to yourself, not even mad that Lucifer had used his devil face against this man. You would have done the same if you had the option.

[rrazor]

hq boys as non-sexual things that feel sensual

tags: mildly suggestive content (mostly pining)

bokuto: certain phrases are very sexually charged; “make me,” or “what are you gonna do about it” lunch time!! bokuto comes back from the cafeteria with his pork-cutlet sandwich to see you engaged in a card game with three other people. He sees that everyone’s bet something and you bet a strawberry danish you bought this morning and bokuto’s eyes go 🤩 he forces himself in LMFAO and makes sure to sit next to you 🥰❤️ in the end, it’s only you and him left (konoha and komi come over from their classes to see what all the fuss is about and they’re like …..how is bokuto doing so well 😶)

but you win and steal his sandwich on the desk 😈 he tries to defame you for cheating lol but all you do is look at him coyly like “and what are you gonna do about it, bokuto-kun? 😇” and suddenly his tongue feels heavy and his cheeks flush and he’s all 🥺👉👈 he asks you for the bread back because its his only lunch 😭💀 but he ends up winning sm more because you offer to share your bento with him and his heart goes 🥰💖💞

akaashi: sitting next to someone and your shoulders/thighs touch it’s the sports festival!! and it’s lunch break. he spots you sitting on a bench and he starts sweating at the idea of sitting next to you but he wants to be near you somewhat because then MAYBE you’ll talk to him??!? hopefully 🥺💔

he swallows his nerves and sits on the bench too but on the other side with a huge gap between you and your friend. he pulls out his phone to look “busy” LMFAO then, more of your friends come over and suddenly, you’re snug against him, your BARE THIGH touching his because you’re both in shorts and akaashi thinks he gonna pass out with the bashful apology you give him 😵 he thanks every deity he can think of that your friends came over and STAY because your leg is still touching his and he’s holding a conversation with you 😭🥺🥳💕💖❤️😍

konoha: having someone use your keyboard standing up while you’re sitting in front of it you’re in one of the school’s computer labs working on a research essay. akinori sits next to your station, having worked up the courage earlier to ask you if you could help him with his. he sneaks glances at you at the printers as you refill the trays with more paper 👀 he blushes even though you aren’t even doing anything to him 😭😔💔

before he can stop himself, he calls your name lmfao 🗣 but manages to save himself from utter embarrassment by asking you to look over one of his passages. coming over, you lean over him, hands on his keyboard as he leans back. his eyes are wide and cheeks ruddy as he tries so hard to keep cool because you’re so close 😍🥺💕 and god does he hope what he wrote was coherent because he thinks he’d d-word if you said it made no sense 😓😵

kuroo: when you’re sitting next to someone and they lean over and reach across you to grab something another day, another group project. kuroo gets added to a group with you and another guy because he was absent for volleyball. the two of you push your desks next to him and he’s fist pumping internally because you’re sitting next to HIM and not the other guy and he gets to act as the barrier AHAHAH 😇🥳😛

you’re working together when you ask one of your friends to pass over the notes she took from you. she’s sitting in front of kuroo, but diagonally to the right so she leans back and you lean forward to grab the papers. your arm accidentally brushes his chest and kuroo short circuits 😶 you’re SO CLOSE and your body is nearly laid over his entire desk and if he moves his hands up he could probably touch your chest HJAKHSDLKASD 👁👄👁 the guy next to him looks at him all 😐 as kuroo goes INSANE 🤯

kita: hugging from behind he’s home alone, studying in the living room for his university exams. you’re in the kitchen with his grandma helping her with tonight’s dinner. he smiles softly to himself hearing the two of you laugh 😊🥰💞

he’s halfway through a derivatives question when you hug him from behind, arms coming around him as you rest your head on his shoulder blades 🥺💘 when you softly tell him dinner is almost ready, his chest warms and a soft smile appears on his face ❤️💖

atsumu: the guys strapping you in on a roller coaster. are we gonna kiss? why are you giving me that eye contact? inarizaki’s vbc get together to go to the local amusement park!! they get in and the first thing the twins want to do is ride all of the roller coasters so after a ridiculously long line up, atsumu’s sitting next to osamu, waiting for an attendant to come buckle them in, when you suddenly come up in your cute uniform and hair tied up and atsumu’s like SHIT ITS YOU 😳 also damn y didn’t you tell him you worked here he could have gotten discounted tickets smh 🥴😒

anyways you come up to them to buckle them up with him first and he doesn’t really notice anything but you buckle the first strap really tight and he’s like “does it need to be so tight 😘” and you tell him, making eye contact, using your best customer service voice (vocal bottoming but at least you get paid) and with a pretty smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes, “yes, unless you want to die. and if you do, don’t do it on this ride because my shift ends in ten minutes and i don’t want to stay here to write a report about a dumbass who ko’d on a roller coaster 🥰” and he BLUSHES oop— 👁👅👁

osamu: having your back scratched you sit next to each other in class and it’s self study time and you’re helping him with the english homework that was assigned when his back starts feeling itchy. he rolls and moves his shoulders to try to alleviate it, but it just isn’t working so he brings a hand back to scratch at it, but he’s not flexible enough to reach it 😔 you ask him what’s wrong and he puts his arm down like he got burned because he doesn’t want to be seen doing something weird in front of you or making a weird face so he just says nothing but you raise a brow and go “are you itchy?” and he nods JAJCKKAD

you bring your arm up to where he was just scratching, “here?” a shake of his head, “no, a little to the right.” AND YOU SCRATCH RIGHT AT IT!!!!! he can feel his shoulders slump as he closes his eyes and groans a little WHOOP he’s SUPER EMBARRASSED but you just laugh it off and scratch him some more before going back to work and he looks at you like 🥺💖 why’d you stop?? even though you’re not even looking at him LOL 😞 touches his back that night in the shower like your hands were so small 😯😍😳 and maybe he should be itchy more often but it also quickly turns to she better not be touchy feely with anyone else 😒

suna: someone writing on your arm he’s forced to take this one evening class this semester because it’s not offered the next one and he needs to take it because it’s a prereq for almost every other course ugh but at least the cute girl who sits next to him lets him copy her notes LMFAO 😭💀 he left all his belongings in the gym’s lockers because he was going to go back anyways for practice so when the professor gives out a code for a free trial of the software they have to use for the homework assignment due in a week, he’s like shit; he left his phone in his bag 🤡💔

you offer to write it down on his arm, grabbing a pen from your pencil case. he nods like sure why not so you take his arm and push the sleeve of his hoodie up and start writing and he just stares at you 👀 your writing is cute and he kinda likes the feel of your hands on him 🤧 class ends and you part ways with a wave. It’s not until he’s reached the gym that he realized you could have just messaged the code to him on facebook 🤨 so he pushes his sleeve up and sees your phone number on his arm under the code 😘 aren’t you smooth!!! 😌

iwaizumi: when someone is putting the car in reverse and they put their hand on the back of your seat iwaizumi been interested in you for a while, and ever since he came to the revelation he finds it really hard to talk to you because he’s afraid of coming off too aggressive or you figuring it out 😔💔 good thing kindaichi reveals that you’re his older cousin and that you’ll be driving some of them to their next practice match because the volleyball team’s bus is out for a checkup!! 😍😘 oikawa, matsukawa and hanamaki all force him to sit shotgun as you drive (even kunimi and yahaba get in on it). iwaizumi grumbles about it and all but he’s secretly super happy he gets to be right next to you omg 👀😭 he takes a bunch of glances around the interior of your (parents’) car and sits a little straighter than he usually would.

he can feel the stares on the back of his head from the other third years egging him on to make a move and just when he works up the nerve to say something to you, you put the car in reverse to back out the parking spot and put your hand on the back of his seat 😳😤 iwaizumi thinks you look so cool AND HOT he clams up and just stares at you with his jaw slightly open 👁👄👁 💕pls save him 🤧

matsukawa: when a girl puts her hand up to yours and remarks on how yours is so much bigger you got randomly paired up with each other to do a presentation for your world history class and so you’re sitting next to each other on a saturday afternoon at the public library doing research together. matsukawa spent more time than he would like thinking about what to wear because he doesn’t want you to think that his fashion sense was as grotesque as the school’s khaki pants 😷🤢 (when you complimented him nonchalantly about how he looks a million times better in casual clothes compared to the school uniform and joking said that he should start a petition to get rid of the school’s ugly khaki plaid pants and skirts and use a photo of what he was wearing today as the main piece of evidence, he almost doubles over 💀)

you’re sitting next to each other and he’s still kinda reeling from the previous interaction ahjdalhd but he does his best to pull his weight. he’s taking notes in a notebook and you look over and comment out of the blue that his hands are really big as you look at yours 🤧👀 he blinks and looks at you like “yeah?” and you nod, putting your hand up and he does it too because he thinks he’s having a fever dream at this point, but not even in his wildest dream did he’’d ever think you’d push your palm against his and say “your hand is so big! 😳” he has to excuse himself to go to the washroom to scream 😘🥰❤️

hanamaki: when you’re sitting next to someone on public transport and the centrifugal force from the vehicle firmly mooshes the two of you together hanamaki pines for you silently and you can’t really tell he likes you because he’s pretty decent at keeping his emotions hidden. or maybe you’re just so busy with your senior year you don’t notice anything that isn’t the impending doom of university applications and keeping your grades up 😤😇 anyways the two of you get on and off at the same stop each day (which he secretly thanks god for 😭) and you’re sitting next to each other and hanamaki thinks he’s gonna combust because you’ve never been this close!! 🥺🥰

he can feel his hands getting sweaty already. hanamaki sneaks glances at you and tries to see what you’re doing on your phone LMFAO suddenly, the train lurches a bit and you slide from the inertia right into his side and then he can feel the warmth coming from your thighs, side and your shoulder are touching holy sh— 😭❤️😵👀💖 you look up to apologize as he takes a breath and you’re a little shy in your apology but he takes that chance to ask you about something mundane and he makes you laugh!!!! he thinks about the interaction for the next two weeks because he finally got to talk to you dhaskld ☺️🥺💕

kyoutani: when anyone raises their arms to stretch and their shirt gets lifted up slightly gym class—you’re doing timed runs today!! kyoutani is already finished with his so he’s just sitting off the side of the track, staring not-so-subtly at you but you don’t notice because it’s your turn next!! you’ve got the typical school mandated shorts and plain t-shirt on but kyou is all 👀 at your tastefully exposed skin. he thinks you look pretty with the sun hitting your face as you give a smile to your friend, squinting at the sun light 🥰

he’s just mindlessly staring at this point but then you raise your arms to stretch your triceps and the hem of your shirt rises up a little to expose the tiniest sliver of skin before it’s covered again 👁👁 his cheeks pink a little and you catch him looking LMFAO but you don’t think anything of it and just smile and wave as kyoutani burns bright red, heart battering against his ribs and looks away 😡🤡🥰💕 he saves it for future reference HURDURDUR 😇😛

ushijima: when a woman does that thing where she tucks her hair behind her ear while making direct eye contact ushijima is INTERESTED in you, likes you, is intrigued, would like to hold your hand and rub the back of your hand and feel the soft skin with his thumb—same thing 🥰 you’re talking to him about something for the cultural festival and he’s nodding along to what you’re saying because you’re so brilliant and responsible for working on the school festival committee wOW 🤩

time seems to move in slow motion as you look up him whilst tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he zones in on the shy smile on your face, your cute cheeks, glossy lips and pretty eyes 🥺🥰 “ushijima-san?” “yes?” “what do you think?” “that’s a great idea, I will ask my team members for their input as well.” you nod exuberantly even though he has no idea what you’re talking about but your cute smile makes him all mushy on the inside 💖💕

semi: making eye contact with another customer at the grocery store around the same age it’s 2:11pm on a tuesday and semi’s at the grocery store because it’s summer and his mom was all “go to the store and buy these shimeji mushrooms for me, eita, they’re on sale!!! but only until 3pm so get skedaddling!” 😩 so he’s here and he swears housewives are the most powerful people on the planet because he thought he was gonna d-word just tryna get his discount mushrooms. he spots you in the condiments aisle looking at sesame oil and he gives you the up, down and lingers a little too long on your exposed legs 💀

he thinks you look really cute in your t-shirt and jean shorts though 🥰 when you look up and make eye contact with him and give him a little smile and wave he BLUSHES 🥺 and is right about to take the chance to talk to you but a granny hip checks him trying to get to the soybean paste and he almost trips and lands on his face 😔💔 so much for looking cool in front of you 😢🥺

tendou: having someone else play with your hair satori sees you on cleaning duty carrying the recycling to the bins as he finishes his runs around the school, about to make a turn to the gyms. he makes a beeline for you, calling your name with a bright smile on his face and waving his arms in the air. 🥰💞🥺

he bounds up to you and offers to help even though the bin is really light, cheeks warming at your smile 😊 when he takes the bin out of your hands , you wave your hand to get him to bend down. he complies, eyes widening when he feels your hand in his hair. he straightens up to see you holding onto a couple pieces of cherry blossom petals 🌸 he laughs bashfully; it feels like time has slowed and you’re the only two people in the world 💖💕

sakusa: if you’re on a pc/laptop, somebody leaning over your shoulder to look at the screen with you. the close proximity of your faces can feel awkwardly sexual you’re in the same kinesiology class and sakusa first noticed how GOOD your presentations are wtf and he’s even more impressed when he hears that you winged the whole thing because “i conveniently forgot about this until one in the morning when I decided it was a good time to reorganize your entire dorm room” ALSO you offered him hand cream the one time you caught him staring and against all reason he said yes and ever since he’s been dying to ask you where you got it from because HOLY was it nice 😍

you get paired up for the final pair presentation and he’s only become more interested in you! you’re easy to talk to and don’t pry too much and he finds himself oversharing at times 💀 the professor gives the class part of the lecture time to work on the projects so you’re sitting next to each other working when he asks you a question about the academic article he just found and you lean over his shoulder to look at his screen 👁👁 for anyone else, the close proximity of your faces would have grossed him out but he can’t stop thinking about how good you smell and how cute your ears look 👀🥰 when you tell him he’s found a really good source with an excited smile on your face, he BLUSHES and promptly wants to pass away because he has no mask on to cover him 🤡😭😵

sachiro: when you have a melting popsicle, there often comes a time where you must choose between eating it too quickly, or sucking it off so it doesn’t drip on you sachiro hums happily, holding your hand as the two of you walk home after your date and stopping at the convenience store where he buys the two of you popsicle sticks 😋

you’re talking about something funny you saw hoshiumi do in the class the other day when your popsicle drips onto you. you kitten lick at your hand and take the whole thing in your mouth to get rid of the more liquidy parts of your ice cream and sachiro is all 👁👄👁 he swallows thickly, cheeks warming and heart beating a little faster; why’s he suddenly so thirsty? 🥵💦🙈

gao: getting a strong whiff of somebody’s perfume when they pass you gao really wants to talk to you, like really really wants to talk to you 😖😭🙏 but you’re talking to your friends about something and the cute way you laughs and joke with them has him all 🥺🥰🤩

he’s about to walk up and join the conversation because let’s face it, gao isn’t afraid of much 🤧💀 too bad the teacher calls you back into the classroom about something. when you pass him, he gets a good whiff of your shampoo and his stomach flutters 😍😊🥺💕💖 follows you with sparkly eyes and wishes he made the choice to talk to you sooner 💔

futakuchi: bending over to pick up something you dropped kenji is watching (glaring) as you talk to one of the baseball team’s starting players 🤐 he’s so ticked but he doesn’t admit it like where does this guy get off making you laugh and smile like that wtf 😒🙄 luckily for kenji, the guy gets pulled away by the class rep for something so kenji calls your name to get you to look at him instead 😤

you come over and just as he’s about to stand up from his desk, he knocks over his eraser. you crouch down to pick it up and he finds himself really liking it 👁👁 he doesn’t get it either 🤡 like you aren’t bending and snapping—just folding your knees to get his eraser for him, but the way you tucked your hair behind your ear before you bent down so prettily has him ☺️😉🥵

terushima: when you’re eating and chatting with someone and they lick their lips yuuji pulled you away from your friends when it was time for lunch, wanting to spend more time with you one on one. he was so busy with volleyball and school lately 😞 and when he managed to get you to tell him how lonely you felt without him, he made it his mission to spend more time with you!!! 🥰😘💕

you’re eating together, sharing food and talking about everything and anything when he notices you lick your lips; he zones in on your little pink tongue as it swipes across your bottom lip 👁👁 “yuuji, you okay?” a hand on your cheek and suddenly, he’s kissing you. he tastes like the leftovers your mom packed you for lunch 🥰😋

[king-xineohp]

Dip the Honey Softly Sweet

You cannot ✨imagine✨ the difficulty I had trying to come up with a title for this thing also why was I so obsessed with talking about his voice? idk

Main Masterlist Skyrim Masterlist

Skyrim Cicero x fem!reader (implied noncon w\ guards)

Y/n stood in a secluded corner of the room, arms crossed over her chest, watching. Her gaze was cold. Her mind was racing, her heart conflicted, opinions jumping one way then the next, unsure of what to think.

Sure, it was a breath of fresh air in these trying times, and certainly a fortunate stroke of luck that this newcomer was joining the Family. The situation was growing dire. Everyone was coming back from contracts wounded, or not coming back at all, thanks to the raging war. His own Sanctuary had fallen, so he'd come to join a new Family, and that was that. He was supposedly a prodigy as well, making this an even better turn of events.

Still... As everyone else welcomed the newcomer with open arms, offering immediate kinship and promising the new Brother they'd kill for him (like that needed to be said), Y/n was on the fence about how to feel. She'd certainly not be rude, but no matter how she viewed it, he was nothing but a stranger living in her home. The others could be as friendly with him as they wanted, but Y/n couldn't bring herself to do much more than merely acknowledge his presence.

=

Y/n stumbled into the Sanctuary, knowing no one would be awake and able to help her. The most likely outcome of this situation?

She'd die here, her body left on the ground to be discovered in the morning.

She'd been caught in the chaos on the way back from a contract, some silly riot nonsense about the war that she wanted nothing to do with.

She forced herself to wander as far into the Sanctuary as she could, which wasn't far, before she collapsed to the ground. The impact of the fall sent another wave of pain through her already-aching, searing body, and she groaned, clutching her bloodied sides. Seeing double was no help, so she shut her eyes tight.

She didn't want to just give up, but there really wasn't anything she could do. And it was so late that she was alone.

That is, that's what she thought, until a strong pair of arms lifted her off the ground.

"Another riot, I presume?" An unfairly deep voice asked. Y/n opened her eyes, surprised.

"Cicero?" She asked. He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned.

"What, do I look like Andronica?" He asked, voice pitched in a playful manner. His smile fell away instantly and his tone dropped again. "Sithis be praised Tanyl did nothing but make potions all day. ...And Rasha called him useless."

"More like Sithis be praised I dare to come back here like this," Y/n muttered as Cicero shifted his hold on her, walking towards the alchemy station. "It's embarrassing, really. Bashuk had the right idea, letting herself die in the streets rather than come back and die in front of the Family."

"That Orc had it coming anyway," Cicero scoffed. "Could hardly ever take a contract and not mess it up."

"At least be nice to her in death, Cicero," Y/n scolded. "The two of you never got along in life as it is, and she was even so welcoming when you first got here."

"Unlike some," Cicero hinted slyly.

"You're still hardly more than a stranger to me," Y/n said flatly. "Honestly, if I were you, I might've just let me bleed out."

"Sister! ...That's very cruel of you," Cicero said. "It would be almost admirable were we not part of the same Family."

Cicero gently set her down in a chair near the alchemy station and she winced, every small movement causing a shooting pain in almost every part of her body. Cicero turned around, looking through the Elf's large collection of mostly pointless potions for anything helpful.

"So, is Tanyl really useless, or did he brew up any healing potions?" Y/n asked. She sighed. "Honestly, knowing him, I wouldn't be surprised if he spent all day experimenting and wound up with nothing at all in the end."

"You're not the only one who thinks that Bosmer's completely talentless," Cicero muttered. "And Rasha only called him useless because he was putting off another contract."

"So even Rasha thinks he's a worthwhile alchemist?" Y/n asked. "I guess we're the only two that don't, then."

"Ah, it looks like he can do something useful after all," Cicero said, grabbing the only healing potion within the conglomerate of diluted poisons and bottles of questionable brews. He turned back to Y/n and uncorked the bottle, holding it to her lips. "If you die now, it's your fault."

=

"-And he says to the man," Y/n continued. "'That's not a horker, that's my wife!'"

Cicero laughed, ever amused at her seemingly endless supply of of jokes.

"You seem to be getting along nicely," Andronica said from behind them. "I thought you didn't like him, Y/n?"

"I never said that," Y/n told her. "He was just a stranger, now he's not."

"Just a stranger? Sister... You should know better by now," Andronica scolded. "He was Family the moment he joined us here."

Y/n grimaced.

"That all doesn't matter now, does it?" Cicero interjected. "She's getting along with me fine, Sister."

"Yes, alright," Andronica said. "Well, Rasha wants to see you both. He's got a very special contract set up for you."

"Both of us?" Y/n repeated. "Odd. I wonder what it is."

"I hope it's something fun," Cicero said excitedly as they both started off towards Rasha's usual spot in the Sanctuary. "Like creeping through the dark and-"

"I'm going to stop you there before you go off on one of your long, gory rants," Y/n said with a laugh. "Not that I don't love them, but-"

"Now's certainly not the time," Rasha finished, nodding understandingly. "Now, then. There's a mansion deep in the southern jungle. The lord who lives there hosts a large party every now and then, and every guest is a high-standing noble. You know where this is headed?"

"Somebody wants one of them dead?" Y/n assumed. Rasha shook his head.

"Somebody wants all of them dead," he clarified. "The party's being held in a week, a Fredas. I'm sending both of you because I know it'll be busy, but you two go ahead and... Enjoy yourselves at the party."

Cicero grinned.

"Well, I won't need a long-winded gore fantasy for this one, then," he joked. Y/n just shook her head and chuckled.

"You really are a blood-crazed bastard," she scolded playfully. "You'd better not leave survivors."

"I could say the same to you, Sister," Cicero teased.

Y/n grinned mischievously and pulled her dagger from its sheath, spinning it in her hand effortlessly a few times before pointing it at him.

"I bet you twenty gold coins I'll kill more useless nobles than you," she challenged.

Cicero raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you want to take me on?" He asked. Y/n didn't waver. Cicero took out his own knife and crossed the blade with hers. "Make it thirty."

"I hate your guts," Y/n stated bluntly, still grinning. Cicero smirked, putting his knife away.

"I can't wait to have your money in my pocket," he said casually, walking away.

=

"Thirty septims, cough 'em up," Y/n said, wiping her hand off on her thigh and holding it out. Cicero sighed.

"Alright, alright," he said, defeated. He jumped over the railing of the second floor loft, landing on the body of a noble in front of Y/n. He stepped off quickly. "Oh! My apologies, sir! You're not hurt, are you?"

"Cicero!" Y/n scolded, laughing. "Money."

"Yes, yes, here," he groaned, digging out the debt from his coin purse and handing it over.

"I seem to remember you saying it'd be you walking away with my money, but it's alright," Y/n teased. "Everyone gets things wrong now and then, Cicero."

"You are truly a joy to be around, Y/n," Cicero said with a blank expression.

"Oh, come now," Y/n said, grinning. "I'll make my signature carrot cake sweetrolls if you can be nice on the way home."

"Oh ho, now that is an offer I cannot refuse," Cicero said happily. "I never really liked carrots before, you know. This Sanctuary has changed me a bit."

"This Sanctuary, or my carrot cake?" Y/n asked, smirking.

"Hey, that's just bragging now!" Cicero accused.

"I'm allowed to brag if my baking changed your life, Cicero," Y/n said.

"Why don't we just get back to the Sanctuary so you can actually make a few, hmm?" He suggested.

=

"I didn't have a choice at that point!" Y/n said, weaving one of her many tales as the two of them ate. They'd gotten back late again, just the two of them awake while the rest of the Sanctuary slept, not unlike the night Y/n had stumbled in wounded only to find Cicero.

She did, however, still follow through with her promise of sweetrolls, and now the two were sitting together eating, telling stories of previous contracts as they quite so often did.

"So, what did you do then?" Cicero asked. "If it wasn't in any room in the house-"

"I broke the lute," Y/n told him. "It was the only thing I could think of! It wasn't anywhere in the house, I'd looked everywhere by then, so I just thought maybe it was hidden inside the lute, so I broke it. Smashed it over my knee."

"Was it in the lute?" Cicero asked. Y/n shrugged.

"I guess I'll never know, because I was attacked right then and there from behind," she said, staring at her empty plate. "Never knew a bard could be so fierce."

"And?" Cicero prompted.

"I did what any logical person would do and pulled out a fire scroll I happened to have," Y/n said casually, shrugging. "Set him on fire, then I fled. Botched the contract, couldn't find the client's damn stolen amulet, but it was fun to see that man burn. The house caught on fire shortly after, so that was also a nice sight to see as I ran out of the city."

"Right, there's not much that compares to flames licking at the sky and a house ablaze by your own hand," Cicero mused.

"You know, I managed to grab a pretty nice knife off of one of those nobles back there in the jungle," Y/n said, changing the topic abruptly. She pulled her dagger from its sheath. "And it crossed my mind that maybe you'd want this one. It's gone through a lot with me, but I think you could do some serious damage with it."

"Wait, really?" Cicero asked, stunned. "But you love this dagger-"

"I'm serious, Cicero," Y/n said. "It just... I don't know, it feels like it's just time for me to part ways with it... But I don't want to just throw it in a lake or leave it deep in someone's abdomen. I want you to have it."

"I'm... Thank you," Cicero said slowly. Y/n held out her dagger and he took it from her hesitantly, taking in the elegant design.

"See, I got into the whole murder business when I accidentally killed my father," Y/n admitted. "He was a miner and a blacksmith. I panicked after that, so I just grabbed some things from the house and ran. A while later, I realized I'd grabbed an odd amount of ebony ore, but I didn't want to waste it, so I made myself a dagger. It's actually the first thing I ever forged without his help."

"You're sure you want to give something so special to me?" Cicero asked, glancing up at Y/n. She nodded.

"It's not like I'll never see it again," she said. "I plan on staying right next to you and annoying you until the day you snap and send me straight to the Void."

Cicero raised an eyebrow.

"But that violates the Fifth Tenet of the Brotherhood," he stated blankly.

"Well... Then I plan on annoying you until the day I'm judged by Sithis," Y/n said, correcting herself. "Either way, my point is you're never getting rid of me. So even if I do miss my dagger a bit, all I have to is look at your stupid face and ask to borrow it."

"My face isn't stupid!" Cicero protested.

"Have you seen it recently?" Y/n teased. "Your face gets stupider by the hour!"

"Well, yours is even stupider!" Cicero countered. They both laughed.

"Couldn't come up with a better rebuttal?" Y/n taunted. She shook her head. "I'm disappointed, Cicero, really. I've come to expect much better arguments from someone so witty, and yet-"

Cicero cut her off with a quick, unexpected kiss.

"Were you expecting that from someone so witty?" He asked cockily.

"Wha- No? No!" Y/n exclaimed, stumbling over her words.

"I also plan on staying by your side until we're serving Sithis in the Void," Cicero said seriously. He paused for a moment, then stood up. "It's late, and we've done quite a lot for one day. We should get some rest."

Y/n was silent for a few long moments.

"Yeah," she said, nodding and standing up slowly. "We probably should..."

=

"Another contract?" Cicero asked.

"Mhm," Y/n said, nodding. "The jungle again, surprisingly. A bit west of that mansion."

"At least try to be safe," Cicero said. Y/n grinned mischievously.

"Even if I'm not, I can handle myself," she said. "You've seen what I can do when there's a dagger in my hand."

Cicero rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"Alright, you've got me there," he said. "Hmm... What should I- Oh! I thought of one."

"Lay it on me," Y/n said, smiling.

"Go knock them dead," Cicero said proudly. Y/n shook her head, grinning.

"Absolutely terrible," she stated.

=

The target's body fell to the floor with a dull thud and Y/n sheathed her dagger, staring at the corpse with pride.

"Well, I sure did knock him dead," she muttered to herself, smiling.

She was about to leave the house when someone knocked on the front door.

Knowing that panicking would lead to making a stupid mistake, she slipped into the shadows and looked for an alternate escape route. The knocking grew more frantic as her eyes landed on the stairs, and she was halfway up when she heard the door open.

Y/n hurried over to a window, intending to pry it open and jump out.

"Yagnar!" Someone gasped from downstairs.

Shit, they found the body.

Y/n tried harder to push the window open, to no avail. The metal was rusted shut. If she had more time, she'd be able to do it, but not now, not here.

Whoever was downstairs was now running upstairs, and Y/n accepted her fate, pulling her dagger from its sheath once more.

The living one from downstairs was revealed to be a city guard from pretty far away from the spot, an Orc, presumably a relative of the dead Orsimer downstairs, presumably here to visit. He drew his sword the minute he saw Y/n with her knife out.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I could ask the same of you," she said firmly.

"I asked first," the Orc said.

"Well, I asked second!" Y/n said defensively. The Orsimer glared at her.

"I am Guraak, son of Yagnar," he said. "Yagnar is he who lies-"

"The dead one downstairs, I know," Y/n said. "I'm the one who was hired to kill him."

"Hired?" Guraak repeated. "By who?"

"I don't know, we tend not to ask too many questions in my line of work," she said. "They pay, we kill. We don't need much more than that."

"I am captain of the guard in my city," Guraak stated. "This crime will be judged by law. Come with me or taste my blade."

"Mighty calm, I would've assumed you'd be yelling by now," Y/n said. She spun her blade in her hand. "Unfortunately, I can't afford to go prison at the moment, so it looks like we'll be fighting. Such a shame."

"Not a shame at all," Guraak stated. "For I can avenge my father."

"Aren't you Orcs all about slaying your parents, though?" Y/n asked. "Y'know, cut down the chief to become the next one?"

"Some of us have integrated with modern society," Guraak said. "Now, we fight."

=

"You don't have to hold your sword so close to me, you know," Y/n grumbled, hands bound behind her back as she walked.

Guraak just pushed the tip of his sword closer to her back. A few other guards had joined him when they'd arrived in the city, and Y/n just felt ashamed and embarrassed that she was being dragged through the streets to the prison held at the tip of a sword.

"How long should this mongrel's sentence be?" Guraak asked one of the other city guards.

"Mongrel?!" Y/n repeated, offended. The others ignored her.

"What'd she do?" A guard asked.

"Kill my father," Guraak answered.

"Oh. If it were me, I'd have her do at least twenty years," the guard said.

"Really?" Another asked. "I'd have her do life. I can't imagine..."

"Life? That's insane," yet another spoke. "I say fifty."

"What a helpful crew you have," Y/n said. "They have such a wonderful dynamic!!"

"She is very sarcastic," Guraak stated, poking her in the back with his sword. She held back a yelp. "She thinks she is funny."

"I am funny," Y/n corrected. "Sarcastic, funny, witty, a great baker, and I tell great stories! In fact, I- Hey!"

She cried out as Guraak kicked her forward rather than stab her.

"I say you should make her do life," the guard that had suggested fifty years said. "Killing your father and being... Well, being that awful?"

"Awful? You don't know the half of it," Y/n said, laughing. "I am a plague upon this world, unleashed by Sithis himself from the Void!"

"...Life in prison for this annoying brat," Guraak said.

Oh, I'll find a way out.

=

"Cicero, you have to accept that something might've happened," Rasha said, trying to calm Cicero down for the hundredth time. "You of all people know that sometimes they just don't come back from contracts anymore. I wish that wasn't the case, but it is."

"I have to go out and find her, and make sure that everything's-"

"Cicero," Rasha said firmly. "No. We need you here. We can't afford any of us running off to do anything other than our job right now. She'll make her way back eventually if she's really okay, we can trust that. If she's not..."

"Rasha, it won't take long, we'll be back in-"

"Why are so persistent about finding her, Cicero?" Rasha asked. "You've seen Brothers and Sisters come and go. It's an unfortunate truth. I thought you of all people would be the one to know that by now."

Cicero bit his lip, then sighed, knowing better than to say anything.

It wasn't quite that the two had been intentionally keeping secrets from the Family. The secrecy had only started because of their tendency to stay up later than the others or return from contracts late, always spending time together while everyone else was asleep. How would any of them know what transpired around them during their peaceful slumber? While the two of them whispered and giggled away the nights, it soon became clear to them that the intimacy of being alone together with nothing to break the silence of night but their own voices was far too appealing to give up.

=

Y/n chipped another piece of brick off the wall of her cell and walked over to the bars.

She aimed at a sleeping guard carefully through the iron rods, and flicked the chunk of rock at his helmet. The sound of rock against metal rang through the room loudly, surely shattering the man's eardrums as he jolted awake. Before he regained his senses, she hurried over to the chair in her cell and picked up a book, then looked up, pretending the sound had startled her.

The guard walked over to her cell and glared at her.

"You just don't know when to stop, do you?" He asked.

"I don't even know the word stop," she answered. She looked back down at the book and sighed. "But, I have to admit, it's harder to break out of this prison than I thought it would be. You have me locked up so tight that I might actually be doing life here..."

"Well, what if I offered to shorten your sentence?" The guard asked.

"How much shorter?" Y/n asked suspiciously.

"Oh, decades, at least," the guard said cockily. "All you'd have to do is do a few guards some... Favors."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but still, was it worth it? She sighed.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I just need to get out of here."

=

Y/n looked around her empty Sanctuary in disbelief. Cheydinhal was a mess, and now the Sanctuary was wrecked and abandoned. Knowing the fates of every other fallen Sanctuary, even a miracle couldn't guarantee the survival of any Family members.

Feeling inexplicably terrible, Y/n fled the Sanctuary, left Cheydinhal, but didn't know where to go.

If everything she knew was gone, perhaps she should start over? But not here, her contracts had led to almost everywhere, so almost everywhere would be a painful memory.

Perhaps... Skyrim.

Y/n nodded to herself, feeling just a touch better. A fresh start might make things better. After all, when Cicero's Sanctuary fell, he started over, too. Though, that was a bit different. He started over in another Sanctuary.

Cicero... Her best friend, gone.

The rest of them, too.

Rasha, the Khajiit who had led her Family for almost as long as she had been with them, Tanyl, the Bosmer alchemist who may have been talentless at an alchemy station but didn't deserve to die for it, Andronica, the pragmatic Breton who had only ever wanted the best for her Family, Garnag, everyone's favorite bitter uncle Orc character, Pontius, the soft-spoken Imperial who took care of every problem without complaint, even Kal-Reij, the exceedingly young Argonian who had fled the chaos of her city and somehow ended up joining the Family-

All of them, gone.

Yes, Skyrim would be perfect for a fresh start. None of her past could follow her there.

=

Y/n stepped off the boat and onto solid ground. Skyrim ground. Dawnstar ground.

It was colder than she'd anticipated, but far away from the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, just like she'd wanted. It was perfect. The only question now was where to go and what to do.

She'd only ever known the Brotherhood, really. She'd killed her father, panicked about the law, and run off. When she thought back to it, she'd realized the adrenaline rush after the kill was actually quite a thrill, so she'd decided to experiment a bit and she tried killing a barmaid. She felt the same thrill, so she did it again, and again, until she was caught by a Breton girl a little older than her who said she'd been expecting her. Andronica, her name was, and she said there was a place for "people like us."

Before that, it had only been Y/n and her father, a miner and a blacksmith, in a small town near a lake. The community was small and close, something Y/n had only ever seen again when she was tearing those kinds of communities apart with assassinations. The fishermen shared their catches, the miners shared their ore, the barmaids shared the mead, the farmers shared the crops, and the women helped raise each other's children.

Calm perfection, then assassination.

What in the name of Sithis should she actually do here in Skyrim?

She certainly wasn't going to join the war, she'd had enough of that. She could try living in a city and getting a job, perhaps be a general trader? No, she would probably end up killing anyone who inconvenienced her. Perhaps a farmer in a secluded area?

Yes, that would do. If the urge to kill ever arose, she could just wait for an innocent traveler to happen by and then murder them.

A new, fresh, peaceful life in Skyrim was just what she needed.

"Welcome to Dawnstar," a Nord woman said warmly. "Do you have any questions you need answered before you go on your way?"

"Huh? Oh, well," Y/n started awkwardly. "Where would be a good place to set up a farm?"

"Farm? Well, talk to Skald the Elder," the woman said. "It just so happens that the owners of the Loreius farm were found dead."

"...So the land is up for sale?" Y/n asked. The woman nodded.

"If you can get Skald to sell it to you, then yes," she answered.

=

Y/n dragged the fourth dead body of the week away from the road, bringing it up towards the farm and hiding it from view by leaving it behind her house. She stared at the several corpses for a few moments before kicking at the oldest one.

"Rot faster," she told it. "The cabbages need more fertilizer."

Y/n walked back around to the farm to tend to her crops, being gentle with the cabbages, but after a while, the boredom sank in again and she found herself constantly glancing at the road, waiting for new prey.

Just her luck that two travelers happened by soon enough.

Y/n abandoned her farm work immediately, sneaking closer to the road.

She was about to pounce on them, simply kill one and then the other, when something caught her eye. A familiar dagger, sitting soundly in a sheath on a jester's hip. All reason left her mind and Y/n simply lunged at the two, grabbing the dagger from the jester and grabbing his companion at the same time. She held the dagger to her hostage's throat.

"Listener!" The jester cried. Y/n's eyes widened.

"Listener?" She repeated. "The Black Hand is still around? Where can I find them? And where did you get this dagger?"

The jester glared at her.

"That's-"

"Why should I tell you where to find the Brotherhood?" The hostage asked.

"You shut up," Y/n said harshly. "Where. Did you get. This dagger."

"Why does the bloodthirsty stranger want to know?" The jester asked angrily. "Give it back!"

"Why do I-? I want to know because I made the damn thing!" Y/n said. "This belongs to my best-"

"Y/n?!"

"Yes, I'm- Wait... Cicero?"

"What in the name of Sithis is going on?" The Listener asked, confused. Y/n lowered the dagger from their throat and spun it in her hand a few times before handing it back to Cicero and releasing her hostage.

"I thought you were dead," Cicero said, his voice much deeper and more serious than it had been seconds previous. Normal.

"I thought you were dead!" Y/n argued back. She sighed heavily. "We have a lot to talk about... When we get back to wherever your Sanctuary is."

"Again, we can't just tell you-"

"Listener," Cicero said, slowly, sweetly, his voice back to being higher pitched and... Crazy. Y/n was absolutely lost. "With all due respect, Y/n's been with the Brotherhood even longer than Cicero! And she's good!"

Y/n smiled softly.

"Do you remember the party in the jungle?" She asked quietly. "That was a fun night."

"Not fun for poor Cicero's coin purse," Cicero grumbled. Y/n looked at him questioningly.

"What's with the whole jester act-"

"We can-! Let's just-!" The Listener interrupted. They cleared their throat and pulled Y/n aside for a moment. "Look, I can give you his old journals later, they're all about the, uh, 'jester' thing. I trust him, so I'll take you to the Sanctuary, but who the hell are you?"

"He and I were best friends," Y/n said. "We were part of the same Sanctuary a long time ago."

"Oh... Oooh," the Listener said in a serious, thoughtful voice. "Cheydinhal, I'm assuming? Or Bruma?"

"Cheydinhal," Y/n said slowly. "Cicero was the only Bruma survivor. I was the- You said something about journals?"

Both of them glanced up from their private conversation as Cicero started humming to himself, examining a butterfly before catching it in his hands and tearing up its wings quite sadistically.

"Yeah... He's got quite the story," the Listener said.

=

"So? Understand him a bit better?" The Listener asked Y/n.

She sat at the bench near the Nightmother, and hadn't gone any further into the Sanctuary yet, just sat there reading.

"I suppose," she said, stunned. "A lot more happened to him than did me."

"Um... Is something wrong?" The Listener asked. "You seem sad."

"It's just strange that he didn't write a single thing about me," Y/n said bluntly. "I might've hated him at first, but he became my closest friend."

Y/n handed back the journals. At the same moment, Cicero happened to be happily bounding up the stairs.

"Oh, Listener! And Y/n!" He said cheerfully. His eyes dropped to the journals. "Oh, that's where they went."

The Listener grimaced.

"I-I didn't mean to invade your privacy, really!" They defended. "I just needed to know the phrase to get into the Dawnstar Sanctuary to find you so I could kill you for attacking Astrid, you know? I only let Y/n read them because, well, they sort of explain how you got all... Jester-y. So, uh, blame me if you're going to be mad!"

"Oh, Cicero isn't angry!" Cicero said, smiling. "I just thought I'd lost them! Or that they'd burned in the Falkreath Sanctuary."

"Well... Here," the Listener said, handing them back to him. He took them gratefully. "Anyway, I should be off. I've got a contract to complete. Good luck settling in, Y/n."

"Thank you, Listener," Y/n said. The Listener nodded politely before leaving the Sanctuary, leaving Y/n alone with Cicero.

"If you read my journals, then you've learned of poor Cicero's... 'Difficulties' without the daring Y/n?"

"Y/n the Daring... Now that's certainly a title," Y/n mused. She sighed. "So much happened, and I wasn't there for any of it. I'm sorry, Cicero. I botched my contract, I got locked up, I couldn't escape, you know I would've come back if I could, I never would've-"

"Y/n."

Cicero was speaking normally again, rattling Y/n's mind and confusing her. All the switching, the back and forth, this crazy jester, her deep-toned witty friend, it was all so overwhelming.

"It's okay," he finished stoically. Not a moment later, his peace was broken by a maniacal grin and his voice lilted again. The jester was back. "Oh, Cicero knows his precious Y/n is loyal! But a prison even you couldn't escape?"

"...I don't want to talk about it," Y/n muttered. She stood up from the bench and brushed off her farmer's garb before stretching her arms and flashing her signature troublemaking grin at Cicero. It struck a nostalgic chord in his heart and suddenly his mind was grounded. "So. Where do I find some Brotherhood armor?"

Cicero stared at her for a moment before laughing, but Y/n could tell the difference between this genuine laughter and the insane giggles he let loose every now and then. This was his old laugh, the one she'd come to know and love.

"What?"

"Who's the stranger in whose Sanctuary now, Y/n?!"

Y/n almost snorted. The sudden outburst was an odd surprise in itself, now this?

"Cicero!"

"Cicero! Keep it down up there!" A sultry voice scolded from below. "And if you've brought new meat for the torture room, keep her mouth shut! ...Ugh, by Sithis."

Y/n walked over to the steps and looked down into the main room of the Sanctuary for the first time. She hummed.

"I've seen better," she said simply. The Redguard who'd spoken looked up at her as she sized him up. "The stained glass is a nice touch. Torture room sounds nice. I'm- A cooking pot...? I could make quite a bit with that."

"Oh, yes! I would like to request-"

"Excuse me, but who are you?" The Redguard asked.

"Nazir, this is Y/n," Cicero introduced, drawing out her name in a sultry tone. "The deadliest woman I know."

"Nazir, is it?" Y/n repeated. "Cicero and I were a part of the same Sanctuary years ago. We both thought each other dead until we met on the road the day before yest."

Cicero stared at the cooking pot.

"As I was saying, Y/n, I'd like to request-"

"Carrot cake," Y/n finished, nodding. "It's been years, Cicero, but I still know you as well as I know the edge of my ebony blade."

"Nazir, can Y/n make supper for the Family tonight? She's a wonderful cook," Cicero said deeply. Nazir stared at him, shocked and unsettled by his normalcy. "She used to cook for our Family often. Y/n is a... Woman of many talents."

"Cicero, you're overselling me," Y/n said flatly, walking down the stairs. "Where can I exchange this for some proper armor?"

Nazir raised an eyebrow at her.

"There should be some just laying around the Sanctuary, I believe," he said, still eyeing her warily.

"Do you think of me as a stranger in your Sanctuary?" Y/n asked him, grinning to herself. "Even if the others accept me as a Sister, you'll still be skeptical?"

Cicero laughed, deep and normal.

"Y/n was like that when I first joined her Sanctuary," he said. "I'm sure you'll come to love her, Nazir."

He lost the semblance of Y/n's old Cicero almost immediately, humming to himself and skipping off towards the Night Mother.

=

Y/n stood in front of the Night Mother in silence, the Sanctuary quiet with the silence of night.

I've never seen her in person before. Perhaps I should pray.

Y/n looked up at the Night Mother's sunken, empty eyes, taking in her ancientness and marveling at the sight.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

I didn't mean to leave him alone for so long that he lost his mind. He says you gave him a friend from the Void when he was lonely, but that jester drove him mad. Please, this isn't the Cicero I know. If you take back that jester's soul, I'll be forever indebted to you. He's supposed to be in the Void anyway, right? He doesn't belong here.

Y/n opened her eyes slowly.

For a moment, it almost seemed to her like the Night Mother had done something. Y/n wasn't sure what, but it was as if the Mother had spoken to her, or her spirit had reached out and touched her.

Y/n thought back on the days when she'd wait up anxiously, waiting for Cicero to come back from whatever contract he'd been sent on, and the times she'd gone with him.

Back then, he'd still been a little off his rocker. Whenever he spoke about death, his eyes would light up, and he often went on long rants, talking about the things he would want to do to someone, never leaving out the gory details. And even then, he'd been so devoted to the ways of the Brotherhood. He had an extensive knowledge about even the oldest rituals, and his respect towards the Night Mother and the Listener had been admirable even back then.

How long ago was that?

Y/n looked up at the Night Mother again before looking around quietly.

It's late. Am I the only one awake? ...If Cicero's still up, is he waiting for me? Waiting up for the two of us to spend our secret nights together again?

Gentle footsteps caught Y/n's attention and she turned around, met with the Listener.

"Listener?"

"She spoke to me," they said simply. "She told me to tell you 'he has returned to his rightful place.' She thanked you."

"The Night Mother?" Y/n asked, surprised. The Listener nodded and Y/n looked back up at the Mother's corpse. "He's returned to his rightful place... And she thanked me?"

"Yes," the Listener said. "I don't know what for, though. I think this would be a private conversation between you two, if she spoke to anyone else. ...Does it have something to do with Cicero?"

"...Yes," Y/n said. "I just want my Cicero back."

"Well, good night, Y/n," the Listener said. They paused before leaving her alone again. "He is changing, you know. Normalcy is breaking the surface more often now, and it's only been a few days. Maybe you'll get him back."

"...Thank you, Listener," Y/n said. "Good night."

The Listener nodded, walking back off towards their room.

Y/n walked down the stairs to the main room of the Sanctuary slowly, eyeing the cooking pot as she walked.

I should make sweetrolls sometime soon.

=

"-Break that lute across my knee! And if the bard should choose to fight, why, then I'll set his clothes alight!"

Y/n froze, hearing the humming and singing and skipping of Cicero as he joined her and Nazir in the main room.

"Must you always sing that dumb little song of yours?" Nazir asked, annoyed.

"Dumb little song? It's a tale, Nazir!" Cicero said, laughing to himself. Something about him seemed different, and Nazir decided not to comment.

"Yeah, a tale I told you, Cicero," Y/n said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. "What, have you been singing about me all these years?"

"Perhaps," Cicero said teasingly. "But that bard got what was coming for him, trying to attack our lovely, feisty Y/n, didn't he? Play with fire, you'll get hurt!"

"Your jokes are the worst, Cicero," Y/n said, uncrossing her arms and smiling. "You really remember a story I told you that long ago?"

"And every joke you've made," Cicero confirmed. Y/n noticed a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and she didn't even flinch as he pulled out his dagger and lifted it to her throat. He grinned sadistically as he traced her jawline lightly with the tip of his knife. "Did you expect that from someone so witty?"

"No, but I think you're underestimating me again," Y/n said calmly, quickly grabbing the knife from Cicero. She spun it in her hand before setting the tip against Cicero's chest. "One wrong move and you're ingredients for Tanyl's next experiment."

"We both know he can't tell his ass from his elbow in ingredients," Cicero scoffed, nabbing his dagger back from Y/n. He raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously. "A wrong move from you and you'll be dancing in the street with Bashuk."

"You think that I, your lovely little feisty Y/n the Daring, am on the same level as your least favorite Orc?" Y/n asked, gasping dramatically and pretending to be hurt. "I'm offended, Cicero!"

Cicero laughed, clear and true.

"I'm sorry, but what in Sithis' name is happening with you, Cicero?" Nazir asked.

Cicero just looked at him curiously for a moment, confused, before realizing what he meant.

"Oh, Y/n, my wonderful friend, is bringing back something I didn't know I didn't have!" He said excitedly. He grinned sadistically. "I was once a prodigious assassin, you know! Admired in every sense of the word!"

"...Sure. We'll pretend that's true," Y/n said. "Bashuk certainly didn't admire you. And Tanyl hated you with a burning passion."

"Kal-Reij liked me almost as much as you do," Cicero pointed out. "That counterbalances both of the others."

"Fine, I'll at least let you have that," Y/n said. "But I still like you far more than she ever did."

"Oh, I see. You're jealous," Cicero teased.

"Of a dead cat? Of course not," Y/n said stubbornly.

"...So this newcomer is, what, fixing you?" Nazir asked skeptically. Cicero froze for a moment.

"Fixing me?" He repeated slowly. He glanced at Y/n. He had felt pretty broken when she left. When she went out and never came back. When Rasha wouldn't let him find her. When everyone else went away, too. When he was lonely. Mother had given him a friend, true, but the friend she had given him was wrong in every way. "Yes. Fixing. Because that's what you do with broken things."

"Broken things?" Nazir repeated, confused and not amused. Cicero nodded slowly.

"Y/n never came home," he said softly, averting his eyes from both members of his Family. "That was when I think I truly broke. Mother tried to fix me, but... She's dead. Y/n's not."

"Cicero, is that really what you think?" Y/n asked curiously. "I didn't leave on purpose, you know I would never!"

"Yes, I do know," Cicero said, his voice firm even though he was looking at the floor. "Which is why I thought you were dead. You'd never leave me, and I'd never leave you. Rasha wouldn't let me try to find you, but I wanted to. I didn't want to admit to thinking I knew you'd died."

"Well, I didn't die," Y/n said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't say things I don't mean, and I once said you'd never get rid of me. I refuse to die without you at my side, you Imperial bastard."

Cicero stared at Y/n for a few moments, brow furrowed as voices in his head began to argue. He grimaced.

"You're a good friend," he said finally. He raised an eyebrow at Y/n. "And, like me, don't need much sleep."

Stay up late with me tonight.

"About that," Nazir began. "Can you at least try not to sing so loud in the middle of the night?"

Cicero grinned mischievously.

"No."

=

"Cicero?" Y/n called quietly, descending the stairs by the Night Mother. The stone room was dark and cold in the night, dying embers beneath the cooking pot across the room the only source of light.

A hand grabbed hers, startling her, and gently pulled her back up the stairs.

"Up here, blind woman," Cicero teased. "I thought you could see in the dark!"

"I was accustomed to darkness when we lived in a cave, yes," Y/n huffed. "Not so much anymore."

Cicero dragged Y/n to the bench, the night barely lit by the candles surrounding Mother. Cicero sighed heavily.

"I wanted to swap stories with you tonight," he said softly. "I wanted to hear your jokes and tell you how I'd tear apart an innkeeper in broad daylight if they insulted you, but I can't stop thinking about that conversation with Nazir."

"What, fixing broken things?" Y/n asked. Cicero's dull silhouette nodded. Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her, so she simply closed her lips.

"This is something private," Cicero said, once again taking Y/n's hand in his. She felt him set what felt like a book in her hands. "No one was ever meant to read my journals, I was careless to leave them in my room the way I did for the Listener to find them, but there is one journal I keep far better-hidden."

Y/n turned the book over in her hands, feeling the leather binding.

"This is that journal, isn't it?" She asked.

"I'm trusting you not to show that to anyone like the Listener did."

"There's a bitter tone in your voice," Y/n noted. "You shouldn't hate the Listener."

"I don't," Cicero said quickly. He sighed again. "I just don't like people snooping around my room and reading my diaries."

"You truly are ridiculous, Cicero," Y/n said, grinning to herself. "You sound like a teenage girl whining about her little brother finding a diary full of writing that could rival the Argonian maid series."

"Oh, you would know, wouldn't you?"

"Cicero, you shouldn't tease someone who knows where you sleep," Y/n scolded playfully.

"Ah, ah, fifth tenet," Cicero reminded. "If you kill me, you'll suffer the wrath of the Dread Lord when you finally bite the dust."

"Finally?" Y/n repeated. "Finally? Are you anxiously awaiting my death? Looking forward to the day I die so that you can reclaim all the gold you've ever lost to me over a bet?"

"Oh, of course, you've taken gold by the thousands from me," Cicero joked. Another time, he sighed. "I know we always stay up together, but tonight I just want to sleep. Good night, Y/n."

With that, he stood, stalking off into the night and disappearing across the suspended bridge beyond Babette's alchemy station.

Tomorrow morning, I can hide away somewhere and read all his secrets, I suppose.

=

Yes, the Brotherhood has its scribes. Yes, I also do keep my journals. But this is something new, something different. This doesn't quite belong in what I write as my story. This is... Private. The Sister who hates me stumbled in late at night about to die. I was the only one awake, so I saved her (Tanyl had somehow managed to make a healing potion, which helped). It turns out she doesn't hate me, she only doesn't know me, but the two of us share many opinions. I quite like her. She understands me.

Y/n and I get along well. I wish I could've befriended her sooner. I've always had a habit of staying up late, and I've found that she does too. I never realized how lonely it is at night before, but she keeps good company.

I was sent out with Y/n to a party in the jungle. We killed everyone there, and I lost our little bet. She walked away with her coinpurse heavy with my money. It was almost like a party of our own, slitting throats and stabbing nobles side-by-side together. Have I ever had so much fun?

Y/n's stories truly are a wonder. She's full of tales of death, and she's got hundreds of jokes to tell. In the late hours of the night, howling laughter is frowned upon, but she's funny. She knows me well now, and the days of her lurking around the Sanctuary avoiding me are a long-forgotten memory.

Y/n was telling me another story last night. She was out on a contract. A client's amulet had been stolen, and Y/n was supposed to kill the thief and return the amulet. She couldn't find it anywhere in the house and thought perhaps it was in one of the many instruments there. She broke a lute across her knee but the thief -a bard- decided to fight her before she had a chance to think. Y/n set him alight and watched him burn. Aside from that story, she told me her own. She killed her father on accident. After realizing she loved the thrill, she kept killing until Andronica found her one day. Y/n gave me her ebony dagger. I kissed her.

Y/n left. She hasn't returned.

I miss Y/n. She still hasn't come back.

In her absence, I've come to realize that I love Y/n. I love her very much. The sudden realization prompted me to take initiative and find her, but Rasha wouldn't let me leave the Sanctuary. He says she's dead, but I know my beautiful Y/n is too strong to die.

The Night Mother's coffin now resides in our Sanctuary. Do I pray to her? If I do, would she answer me? Would she know where Y/n is?

As Keeper, I will never hear Mother's voice. As Cicero, I'll never hear Y/n's. Rasha was right. Y/n isn't coming back.

Y/n. It's a beautiful name. Y/n herself was beautiful too. I miss her. If she could see how our situation stands, she would frown. It's sad when she doesn't smile, and she hasn't smiled in a long time.

Cicero is alone now. No Garnag, no Pontius. Only lonely Cicero. Will I see Y/n again soon? Oh, do I wish it were so. ...No, need to Keep for Mother. No wishes come true for poor, lonely Cicero.

Mother and Keeper must go. There is work to be done. No time for love, no time for bloodlust. A Listener is out there. Y/n will wait for her witty Cicero, I know.

Found the old journals, decided to write, a treatise on Sister, love, darkness, and light! Astrid the pretender is married to one of us. That makes him something other than Brother. When was Y/n no longer Sister?

Cicero has found a Listener! ...Would Y/n be proud? No, poor Cicero will never have that luxury. I will hold on to that one kiss. Short, sweet, real. Cicero can love the Listener! Not quite the same, though.

Y/n is alive. She is here. She's with Cicero. What did loyal Cicero do to deserve the blessing?

There is so much yelling. In my head, in my head, in my head! A low voice claims to be the real Cicero, but that cannot be true. Can it?

Y/n looks at me strangely. She knows me well, but there is a familiar look in her eyes. Am I once more a stranger? But we do know each other! Perhaps the voice in my head is right? He is Cicero. I am someone else. Something else? I am something wrong.

Cicero's voice is winning the battle in my head. He is the one Y/n knows.

The more time I spend with Y/n, the more real I begin to feel. Who is this fool in my head? I thought I killed the jester. Must I do it a second time?

=

Y/n walked through the Sanctuary slowly, clutching Cicero's journal close to her chest. If she knew Cicero at all, he'd be tending to Mother, humming a cheerful tune to himself as he worked.

Of course, she was right.

"Cicero, I've finished reading it," she said softly. Cicero turned to face her, an oiled rag in his hand and no pointed hat on his head. An automatic grin spread on Y/n's lips, thinking of the countless hair pranks the two had pulled during a particular phase in their friendship.

"What's with the dopey lopsided smile, Y/n?" He taunted, tucking the rag away to take the journal from his friend.

"Just thinking maybe we should slick your hair back with troll fat again," she said honestly, wrinkling her nose as she remembered the smell that particular joke had left on her hands.

"If that's the case, maybe I should braid your hair, cut it, and sell your severed braids claiming that they're enchanted draugr ritual ingredients."

"You convinced Rasha to eat my hair," Y/n reminisced. "Not everything labeled 'ingredient' needs to be eaten. You'd think he'd know that after watching Tanyl get sick nibbling on every plant he found."

Cicero glanced down at the journal now returned to him, clearly deep in thought.

"Well... Now you know."

"Why do you look so sad?"

Cicero laughed, dry and empty.

"My life is one tragedy after the next, always has been and always will be," he said. "I've always been surrounded by death, and it wasn't intentional until I was almost an adult. It's loss after loss, and I don't want to lose you again."

Y/n reached out and took Cicero's free hand, leading him to the bench and sitting him down beside her.

"There wasn't supposed to be a prison that could hold me," she said. "I did things I'm not proud of- No, things I am ashamed of, to get out of that damned place. ...And you know I find shame something useless. Nazir thought I was here to be thrown in the torture room, but nothing any of you could do to me is worse than being kept from you for so long."

Cicero furrowed his brow, confused.

"What in the name of Sithis did you have to do that's actually shameful? You have the confidence of a rich woman decorating a new home, nothing ever gets you worked up," he mumbled.

"Oh, Cicero, you sweet, innocent idiot," Y/n sighed. "I try not to say things I don't mean, and I promised to be at your side until we die, remember? So don't worry about losing me. You're not the only one who fell in love."

[warmblanketwhump]

flight plan

disclaimer: this takes place in pre-you-know-what times - if you’re actually sick, do not do what B does here. alright, on to the suffering :)

Back when B booked their flight, the 4 am boarding time and 2 layovers seemed like a great exchange for saving a few hundred dollars while flying across the country. But now, with a head that feels like it was stuffed with cotton, a gate change that forced their leadened body to trek across the entire airport, and an additional 3-hour delay before their final 4-hour flight, they were beginning to question their penny-pinching ways.

In a nearby terminal, a fussy infant screamed, and it took everything for B not to scream back at them: I hate it here too! Their nerves were frayed, their whole body ached to the bone, and their head felt like it was in a vise grip.

It hadn’t felt this bad this morning - heck, they wouldn’t have left if they’d felt this bad - but the changing cabin pressure and constant temperature shifts from hot, stuffy terminals to icy planes were wreaking havoc on their poor, rapidly sickening body. They’d been up for 18 hours. And now, they had no choice but to ride it out and power through the last leg. They hug the paper cup of tea they’d grabbed at a nearby cafe close to their chest, trying to hold back their frustrated tears.

They just wanted to be home.

B shifts on the hard terminal seat as they wrap up a third agonizing hour of waiting, willing the passengers ahead of them to board more quickly so they could just get home to A, who they’d been missing all week. But the miserable minutes ticked by, and B kept having to blow their tender nose with their precious (and dangerously dwindling) travel pack of tissues. As they massage their aching sinuses, B feels a tap on their shoulder. Turning, they recognize a fellow passenger from their previous flight extending another full pack their way.

“Here. You need these more than I do.” They extend the gift, and B gratefully accepts. The stranger nods, and heads back to their luggage to wait out the boarding process.

After what feels like an hour, B’s group is finally able to board the flight. From their boarding pass, they knew they’d be stuck in the middle seat, but their heart lifts a bit when they see their Kleenex-wielding savior in the aisle seat next to theirs, who waves and gives them a small smile as they let them through. On the window seat side, a sour-looking individual scans them up and down, raising an eyebrow when B coughs roughly in their elbow.

“Sorry…” B sniffles. The sour-faced person rolls their eyes and turns their attention to the window, and B shrinks in their seat, embarrassed.

“Just want to be home, right?” Their aisle friend smiles sympathetically, and B nods weakly. “I know the feeling. Name’s C.”

B introduces themselves, and the two make amicable small talk during the pre-flight checklist, finding out that they both called their destination city home. As the plane takes flight, B winces - the pressure change makes their head ache, and their sinuses feel like they’re going to explode, along with their ears. The dry air of the plane irritates their chapped nose, and they close their eyes and grip the armrest till their knuckles bleach, trying to breathe through the pain and praying it doesn't get worse.

It gets worse. On top of their pounding head and runny nose, B discovers like all the other planes, this one's an icebox. Once they reach cruising altitude, B apologetically shuffles by C to head to the bathroom, hoping that by some chance it’s warmer in there. In the dim light, B’s stares at their haggard reflection – their feverish eyes are glazed and watery, their raw nose is bright red, and their peaked face is wan and drawn, coated with a sheen of sweat. Hopefully A would still recognize them, they thought humorlessly.

The bathroom is just as frigid, and B’s stuck with a stream of lukewarm water that barely heats their cold hands. Back in their seat, the throbbing headache continues to build behind their eyes, and their throat desperately cries out for something to drink.

As if they could hear their thoughts, C leans over and pulls a small bottle of water from their personal bag. “The flight attendants came by with drinks while you were up - figured you could at least use some water.” B gratefully accepts and murmurs their thanks, and the cool water feels like heaven as they gulp it down.

After, B pulls the paper-thin flight blanket up to their chin - at this point, they didn’t care what the travel magazines said about how dirty they were. But it’s no use. The cold plane air sinks into their aching bones, and their body shivers to make up the difference. They close their eyes and wriggle around in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position that still allows them to curl up and get warm while exhaling as few germs as possible – and if there's any mercy at all, to fall unconscious for the next 3 and a half hours.

“Will you stop?” The window passenger glares at them. “It’s bad enough you brought your germs on here. But now you can’t even sit still?” Tears pricked at B's eyes - being sick always made them more sensitive - but before they can squeak out an apology, C leaps to their aid.

"Lay off," C snaps. "Can't you see they don't feel good?" The other passenger huffs indignantly, and presses closer to the wall of the plane. C's eyes don't leave them, and they stretch their hand out tentatively toward B. "May I?"

B nods, letting their eyes close, and C gently lays a cool hand across their forehead, clicking their tongue at the heat. "Well, I've definitely flown with healthier seatmates than you." B tries to laugh, but a cough seizes their lungs, and they double over to try and contain it as best they can as C gently rubs between their shoulder blades. When they finally catch their breath, they rest their head on their knees, exhausted from the exertion. From their prone position, B checks their watch. 3 hours and 26 minutes to go.

I'm going to die.

Slowly, B sits up and stiffly straightens their blanket with as little movement as possible. A draft floods their section of the plane, and B longingly eyes C’s unopened blanket tucked in the seat pocket, trying to quiet the incessant chatter of their teeth.

“You cold?” C frowns.

“Freezing,” they whimper through clenched teeth. “And I hurt all over and I just want to go home and I miss A and I’m so tired.” They didn’t mean to break down, but two twin tears slip from their eyes as they try to stop their lip from quivering.

C’s quiet for a moment, then stands to rustle around in the overhead compartment, and returns with a small bundle.

“Lean back,” C gently commands, and A obeys and closes their eyes. They’re immediately draped in warmth, and open their eyes to see a thick, fleece-lined jacket being tucked over them, along with a soft travel blanket over their legs. They try to protest, but C shushes them.

“Being sick is already miserable without being stuck in a tin can in the sky. Besides, these flight blankets suck." C gives B's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and B nearly melts at the touch.

“And look, if you don’t want to, it’s fine - you don’t know me - but you can use my shoulder if you want to try and catch some sleep.”

In any other moment B would be mortified, but they're so spent that they just nod weakly and surrender to the offer of comfort. C pulls their unused blanket out and folds it into a sort of pillow, clicking the armrest down between them, and B collapses onto them in a boneless heap. Sleep tugs at the edge of their vision, but there's one lingering question on their mind.

"C? Why....why are you helping me? You've been nothing but kind and you don't even know me."

C's quiet for a moment. "Last year, I tried to do the same thing you're doing – power through an 8-hour flight home with a blossoming case of pneumonia. Cough, chills, headache, the works. About 2 hours in, I was about ready to jump out of the plane." They chuckle lightly, but B hears the wistful note in their voice. "It was absolutely miserable, and all I wanted was someone to hold my hand and tell me it’d be okay.”

C turns to look at B. "But nobody did. Not a single soul. So I vowed that if ever I found myself in a position someday to help somebody home, I’d do it.”

The words are so achingly comforting and desperately sad, so soft and generous and B feels like they should say something, affirm that yes, helping a random sick passenger was damn close to sainthood. But instead, sleep wins over, and they nestle closer to C as they tumble into a soft, dreamless sleep.

it feels like they’re asleep for minutes, but when C nudges them gently, they realize that they’re descending. They’re home.

The wheels skid on the runway, and the journey off the plane is a blur of sound and color and too-bright lights. B is only vaguely aware of C’s arm around their waist, guiding them through the crowd and to the baggage claim area. They must have told C which suitcase is theirs, because they blink twice and it magically appears at their feet.

“C’mon now, B. Almost there.” C gently guides them forward, and B wills themselves to power through the final few minutes.

“Do you see A anywhere?” C asks, squinting through the crowd of people. B can barely focus their eyes, and they’re losing hope, when all of a sudden - they see them. A. Holding a small paper sign with B’s name and a stuffed animal with a small red heart in their arms, waving wildly. They’re beaming, but the smile falls from their face as they see what condition B’s in.

“B - what happened? Are you okay?” B can barely whisper A’s name, and A pulls them into a hug, gently whispering reassurances, that they’re home and safe.

“Bit of a rough flight, but B hung in there,” C smiles, passing B’s suitcase to A. “They’re not feeling too hot, but I think they’ll make it.”

Suddenly, B releases A and stumbles back to C, throwing their arms around them. C’s thrown off balance by the strength of the hug, but manage to compose themselves and pat them gently on the back.

“Thank you,” B whispers. “So much.”

C blushes. “It was nothing. Just don’t forget to pay it forward.”

B squeezes tighter. “You deserved help. You still do.” C says nothing, just swallows tightly, and B feels C’s arms tighten ever so briefly around their waist.

A rush of dizziness floods B, and C gently guides them back to A’s waiting arms, before handing A a scrap of paper. “Listen, it’s none of my business - but can you give me a call in a couple days, just so I know they’re feeling better?”

A takes the scrap and smiles. “Absolutely. It’s the least I can do to thank you for keeping old B from falling apart in public.” B grunts indignantly, almost asleep again, and A strokes their hair and smiles.

They make it back to the car, and A manages to maneuver a limp B into the passenger seat, tucking them in and cranking the heat on their side. B blinks their eyes open and smiles guilelessly. “Go home now?”

A smiles and presses a soft kiss to their forehead. “Yes, love. We’re going home now.”

[chefdoeuvre]

Inevitable

Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader

Description: Sometimes death is inevitable no matter how hard you try.

Words: 1,248

Requested: yes by anonymous; Hii I was wondering if you could write a one shot jay x reader are dating and then the reader gets kidnapped or something and she dies with a lot of angst

Warnings: mention of injuries, blood, angst (if I can even pull it off), language, death, sad Jay Halstead.

A/N: Jay Halstead only deserves happiness and I stand by that. I just moved into uni the past week and had full day trainings so I’m sorry that this is going up a little late and it may not be my best work, but I will try once my schedule is less hectic. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.

—

Did you know where you were currently? No. The last events you remembered were going out to your car, heading to the store to pick up a few things before Jay came back home from work. Apparently, you never made it to the store, you barely even made it to your car. Your hands were tied behind your back and your legs were bound to the legs of the chair you were sitting on. Your head was pounding and you could barely keep your eyes open. Something felt wet on your stomach while it kept pulsing in what seemed to be pain. The room where you were held was dark and musty making it harder for you to breathe. Outside of the room, there were muffled voices speaking unintelligible words you could tell were probably not good.

Meanwhile, Jay was running around Chicago like a crazed mad man trying to find you before it would be too late. He knew he shouldn't have dragged you into his mess of a love but he loved you too much to stop. The second he noticed you hadn't come home after he arrived he had a gut feeling that something was wrong, entirely wrong. Immediately he began to look for you while also telling Voight to get together the team to find you before a missing persons case turned into a homicide case. Voight had already started on putting together your last knowns and looking through security cameras to find where you could have been taken of where you had been taken. All of Intelligence including even Trudy were working their asses off to try and find you, not only for Jay but for themselves.

You were loved by the entire team. The second Jay had introduced you to them they had fallen in love with you too, platonically of course. You, Kim, and Hailey spent a decent amount of time with each other even without the other guys around. It was safe to say you were everyone's best friend and sometimes even a close confidant.

The entire time Jay had only one thing on his mind, he needed to find you and soon. He was already losing his shit the second he knew you didn't come home. Now with a missing persons and possible kidnapping he was barely holding on to his sanity by a thread.

You sat there in pain and drifting out of consciousness. To say the least you were screwed over and twice over again. Your shirt was now soaked in your blood and the pounding in your head only seemed to get worse by the second. At this point, you knew if someone didn't come now you most likely wouldn't be able to make it. You had lost too much blood in too little of time. The problem was you didn't even know who had done this to you and where they had gone. They left you there to bleed to your own untimely death. Even if you were fighting your hardest to stay awake and keep going until someone would find you, you were beginning to lose hope and a sense of mind.

You and Jay were practically losing your minds. But for somewhat similar reasons. It was over losing each other, you loved each other more than anyone else could understand and that made it that much harder to even think about it. Simply thinking about the loss of you was too hard to bear for Jay and it worked both ways.

You felt it becoming harder to breathe and stay awake that’s when you realized Jay probably wasn’t coming in time to find you. It took you a while to finally accept the fact that the last you would have would be of Jay but somehow it was bittersweet.

Jay was already running up to the warehouse you were being held unshed tears in his eyes as he charged through the double doors. Intelligence followed after him as they scanned over the building trying to find where you were. Jay looked frantic as he ran to the last door and ripped it open to find you almost passed out, your blood in a puddle underneath you. He ran toward you, pulled away the binds holding against the chair, and knelt down, gently cupping your face holding it up.

“Baby, hey look at me.” Jay spoke softly.

Your eyes fluttered open for a second before they shut again. Jay kept on saying your name as you slumped down into his arms. Eventually, he began yelling and the rest of Intelligence and the paramedics arrived into the room. Voight had to pull him away as the paramedics worked to do their job. They were doing whatever they could to resuscitate you but they were trying and failing. The puddle of blood showed that you lost a significant amount since you had been taken and it was obvious how slim your chances had been. As one of the paramedics declared it Jay simply fell onto his knees beside you. Kim held back a sniffle and turned to look away as tears began cascading down her cheeks. Adam quickly pulled her into him as he choked on his own tears. Hailey simply stood there in shock with her own tears eyes wide open. Voight clenched his jaw tightly and held his balled-up fists at his side. Kevin held a solemn look on his face as he placed his hand on Hailey’s shoulder comfortingly.

Jay continued to sit there with a blank face and tears staining his freckled cheeks. His eyes had already become red and seemed to be off in another world. No one else had the guts to actually say it. You were dead. Your last moments were spent staring into Jay’s wondrous blue eyes that held all the emotions in the world. His eyes told you what he didn’t have the time to tell you. Voight had ended up storming out with heavy steps as he cursed to himself. Kim tried to quiet her crying as Adam squeezed her tightly rubbing his hand up and down her back. Hailey let out a mix between a huff and a sniffle before turning on her heel to walk out of the room, finding it too hard to watch the scene in front of her. Adam ended up pulled Kim out of the room making sure she wouldn’t lift her head up again with Kevin following closely behind.

Jay was left in the room with you to say his final goodbyes. But he couldn’t say goodbye he barely got to spend the rest of his life with you. The two of you had plans for years to come and all of a sudden those plans turned into dust. Your death was in no way expected or even close to being wanted but it had happened. Even when you tried your hardest to stay strong sometimes it was inevitable that you couldn’t stay strong for long no matter what you had tried. Jay could barely accept the fact that you wouldn’t open your eyes and tell him what had happened, he thought the two of you would have had a nice date night in. The last thing he expected what to find you barely alive only for you to die in his arms. Tragic end, was all that could come to his mind and he felt that he would never forgive himself for what had happened to you.

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: PART 5 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and figuring out how to survive his new life while finding out a way to keep you in it. 

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, torture, blood, death eater stuff - the usual ! 

Words: 7.8K

A/N: FINDING WAYS TO PROLONG THIS SERIES !!!! 😼 AND SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES ITS VERY LATE AND I NEVER CATCH THEM 😔 but omg my little week long hiatus I took was against my will but i’m back and healthy again and can finally think out sentences again lmao !!! also i DO own gif 

Draco stared at the vast, dark marble ceiling as he lied awake. His black silk sheets were strewn across his king bed in a lofty heap from when he had woken up. There was a sheen layer of sweat across his skin, but his room held no warmth and the draft that was coming in from his open windows was nothing less than freezing.

There wasn’t a moment where he had enough peace to sleep, but when he ultimately did; he always regretted ever drifting off when he felt the hot, ravenous feeling that ran through his body when he would jolt awake from a nightmare with his heart thundering against him and the inability to differentiate reality from a subconscious image. He would lie back down, breathing unevenly, and fixate on a random crack in the ceiling and let his now very tortured conscience remind him, “it all happened, you can't escape it!”

And that little malicious voice in his head was right. The horrible images in his mind weren’t made up or conjured by his brain - they were very real and he had lived through them.

He remembered the agonizing decision he had to make when he left the love of his life, jinxed and in hysterics in an abandoned classroom. He remembered his Headmaster, who he had cornered and disarmed who still offered him genuine help and guidance despite the wand pointed in his face. He remembered his once-favorite Professor, kill his Headmaster who he thought for maybe a second would be able to help him. He remembered bounding down the steps of the astronomy tower, wanting to topple over and vomit while he followed closely behind a billowing cape and several sniggering and smug Death Eaters into the halls of the unsuspecting school. He remembered his aunt wreaking havoc on the Great Hall with pure joy as he could only watch in horror while she shattered the windows in her celebration. He remembered walking through a maze of trees in a dazed stupor towards Hagrid’s hut, Bellatrix giggling maniacally beside him as she skipped past him. He remembered seeing Harry run towards them, hurling any hexes and curses he could think of towards Snape while he scurried off. He remembered meeting his mother at the momentarily failing barrier, her hand wrapping tightly around his arm before she apparated them home. He remembered the cold wooden floors underneath him and the way the Manor’s structure seemed to be crashing down onto him as he tried to catch his breath and collect his thoughts.

When he would finish going over every mistake he had made that night, and every choice he could have made instead, he would turn over in his bed and stare out the large window in his room where he could see the cloudy night sky and the nature swinging around in the wind like it was in a constant state of what seemed like an approaching tornado. He would wonder about you, and what you were doing and what you thought of him. He wondered if you meant what you said - if you would truly never forgive him for leaving you there. He wondered if you thought it was him who killed Dumbledore and how you probably saw him as a killer now. He was in ceaseless disarray of wonder, a painful wonder that he couldn’t escape.

He didn’t dare try to owl you, especially with Bellatrix around the house as a very vigilant guard dog that noticed anything and everything. There were barely any opportunities in which he could leave the Manor, not by foot, by broom, or apparate. He was a prisoner in his own home, just as much as he was in his mind. The increasing amount of Death Eaters that came and went every day made him feel more unsettled than ever, all of them giving him intimidating and sneering looks as if he was a joke while they forcefully turned the Manor into their place of 'work'.

The day Lucius was released from Azkaban, Draco felt a slight hope that things would improve, that his father could somehow find a way to fix things for them as he always had and the young boy could finally step down from the responsibility he felt for his family. But what he saw in the foyer of his home wasn’t Lucius Malfoy; influential, formidable and feared by many - he saw a shell of a man who had lost all sense of who he was and had paid greatly for his failures. He recalled how his father had embraced him in a weak and shuddering hug, clinging onto him as a spew of desperate words incessantly flew from his mouth without making much sense. 

He knew immediately then that his father couldn’t swoop in and fix all his problems, and his mother couldn’t be left alone in all this. He was stuck, whether he liked it or not, and he had to follow through on anything and everything the Dark Lord expected from him or wanted out of his family.

He hated the way his home was defiled with death and wickedness. He hated the way there were lifeless bodies littered around the living room sometimes. He hated the echoing cries and pleas of those who were locked up in the dungeon below. He hated seeing Voldermort use his home as his headquarters, pacing the room in a self-given majesty and humiliating his father every chance he could get. The only reason the Malfoys weren’t killed off yet was, in Draco’s opinion, to be used as an example of what happens when you fail the Dark Lord, to be used as malicious entertainment, and to see just how far someone could be tortured from the inside. Draco did mend the cabinet, but he didn’t kill Dumbledore or die trying as his master had desired. He was always visibly apprehensive of everything he had to do and every order he was given. He wasn’t willingly cruel or vile and hated the idea of actually hurting anyone. His father had failed every mission he was given, and his mother wasn’t a Death Eater, to begin with. They were just there, as pawns and as sadistic pleasure. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was subsequently, a rare day that the Manor was empty. No one was walking through the halls or running their mucky shoes on the expensive upholstery of the furniture as they relaxed into it. Even his father was out, along with Bellatrix, which left only him and his mother at home.

Narcissa Malfoy was just as arrogant as her husband, valued the pro-pure-blood ideals she grew up with, and always appeared to be very cold and haughty. Yet there was one thing that she valued above most; her family. She was entirely devoted to her son and husband and loved them profoundly. It was for Draco she worried for the most and would do anything for. It was for Draco she would risk everything for and go against the Dark Lord for. 

So on the night she brought her son back home, and he was breaking down in her arms with cries about a girl she had never heard of - it piqued her curiosity more than she wanted to admit. She had asked Draco who you were a handful of times since that night, but he always refused to answer. She even went as far as asking Snape, pulling him aside one night behind a dark pillar in her home as everyone was leaving and whispered secretly to him.

“Severus, I know I’ve asked too much of you already but I need to know this,” she rushed to say in a very hushed and imperceptible tone but she knew he had heard her. He raised an eyebrow, looking at her quizzically. 

“What might that be?”

“On the night Draco came home, he was calling out for someone,” she began, “do you know if he was involved with anyone by the name of Y/N?”

She could have sworn she saw a twinge of muscles move in his cheek, but he only shook his head shortly from side to side.

“I apologize, Narcissa, but I know no student by that name,” he sighed. “Draco spent most of his time mending the vanishing cabinet, I doubt he had time to be venturing out in his love life.”

She wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t brush off the intuition that was beating against her gut, nearly screaming at her that she was being lied to and there was more to the story. It’s not like she wanted the information to hurt you or to judge, she simply wanted to know who had broken through to her son during the year he was the most closed off. Who had impacted him so greatly, that now that it was seemingly over left him in shambles and withdrawn almost completely. If anything, she wanted to help. And if there was a possibility where she could, she would help Draco take it if it meant it would make his life easier. There was nothing more she wanted for him, free of pain and filled with hope, and if a certain individual would help her get him there - she would be willing to see it through.

With the opportunity of everyone gone, Narcissa trailed up to Draco’s room, letting her knuckles fall softly against the wooden double doors three times.

“Draco, dear, would you like to join me on a walk?”

She heard a shuffling from behind the door and a sharp sniffle, taking in a deep breath to prepare herself to see his poorly hidden tears that she knew she would be met with.

As she predicted, the doors opened and the blond stepped out of his room, lowering his red-rimmed eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t have to meet her worried gaze. He looked well-groomed as always, but she took notice that his skin seemed gray and dull. His eye bags were deep and nearly black from all his crying and lack of sleep. When she linked her arm through his, she felt the slight weight he had unwillingly lost in the past month that he’s been home. Her mind was spinning with concern, promising herself there that she was ready to do whatever she could for him, anything she could.

She led them out of their cold and darkened home, stepping out into the gardens that sat behind the Manor in a large vastness of gorgeous flower arrangements of whites, greens, and reds. There was a large marble fountain placed in the middle of the garden, spewing water smoothly from a small bowl that spilled into a larger one beneath it. It was boxed in with stone and surrounded with red amaryllis flowers, giving anyone enough space to sit around it without being splattered by droplets of water. 

It was a gloomy day, but a warm afternoon sun had peaked through the clouds and cast a glowy light around the house that she hadn’t seen in ages. It made her feel hopeful as she walked her and Draco through the garden, thinking of ways on how to approach him. She knew he had shot her down and changed the subject every time she brought up your name, even if it was in privacy, and she pleaded to the stars that this would ultimately be the chance she would get to find out. 

When they reached the fountain, she sat them down and watched as Draco slouched, silent and staring distantly at his shoes.

“Dear, I know you hate for me to bring this up,” she started slowly, shaking her head as she spoke, “but I want to know who she is. I want to be able to help you, and maybe even her. I know you’re in love, I see it in your eyes and I see it now that you’re apart. I know everything else certainly applies to how you’re feeling, but there’s a look for heartbreak, and you have it.”

Draco looked up at her, finally peering into her worried eyes as he contemplated what she said and what she offered. The last time he told someone about you, he was reprimanded and denied any sort of help, only suggestions for abandonment were given. He wanted to tell his mother all about you, but he wished it was under happier circumstances, however. 

He wished it would be him coming home during the summer, no Voldermort or Death Eaters in his life or his family’s, and arriving with you by his side after sending an owl to his parents about the new love in his life he wanted them to meet. He would boast about you and your smarts, care, ambitions, and beauty. He would make sure his parents understood just how important you were to him and just how amazing you truly were. He imagined their inevitable surrender and allowing him to invite you on one of their luxurious trips to somewhere beautiful and expensive. He pictured a yacht ride in Italy, your skin glowing and your smile bright as you gazed at him in delight under a warm summer sun. Or a grandeur trip to France, walking around the Parisian streets with you as he spoiled you with gifts and delicious gourmet food while ending the night under the Eiffel Tower. He wanted to see you leave on shopping trips with his mother, the two of you coming back with heavy bags and new memories while his mother would walk by him and secretly whisper, “I love her!” to him. He wanted to flaunt you, and boast and gloat all about you - but the circumstances now were dreadful, and to talk about how he had failed you made him want to cry all over again. 

His mother waited patiently for his reply, clasping her hands together in her lap as he stayed quiet while he decided. He was so used to sulking and torturing himself on his own in the past month, that seeing a genuine look of concern and desire to help pushed him into making his final resolve.

“I met her around the beginning of last year,” he breathed out finally, “her name is Y/N Y/L/N, we had a Potions class together but I met her in one of the corridors where we accidentally bumped into each other. I sprained a finger trying to catch myself and she healed it without a second thought. She wants to be a Healer at St. Mungo’s after Hogwarts, and she’s very skilled with her wand. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and the kindest. She always listened to me, and helped me, and encouraged me. She always reassured me when I needed it, and if it weren’t for her I don’t think I would have mended the cabinet or even had the energy to wake up every day. She stayed with me even when I told her the truth about everything. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way she does, I can’t explain it, she makes me feel-”

“Alive?” His mother softly finished for him. “She makes you feel alive.”

“Yes,” he nods fervently, “I love her and I failed her. I don’t think there’s anything I can do now and neither can you.”

“I beg to differ,” she briskly interjects. “It’s never too late for anything, Draco. There’s always an opportunity to make things right, as long as you try. She at least deserves an explanation and an apology, and it will be up to her to decide what she wants to do. She sounds wonderful, and I’m glad you met someone who brings out your best.”

Draco agreed wordlessly, his tears sitting at the brink of his eyelids begging to be released as he mulled over everything that was said. He knew where you lived, having learned the fact somewhere in your relationship when you were talking about your childhood and where you were from. He knew the place you called home and the address that came with it that you constantly reminded him of in hopeful jokes that he would visit you over the summer.

“There’s no one here, no one would know you’re gone,” Narcissa encourages swiftly as if she knew what he was thinking about. “It’ll be a few hours before anyone returns. Go to her.”

“But if I become involved with her again, he’ll find out, won’t he?” He insinuates in distress. “The reason I left her was to keep her safe from him, I don’t want her anywhere near this.”

“He won’t find out,” she promised, “I’ll make sure of it. Go.”

There was a hopeful and elating sensation that ran through his veins as he stood up, turning back to look at his mother as she nodded at him optimistically. He suddenly lunged towards her, giving her a tight hug and muttering thank you’s to her like a broken record before running out of the garden towards the front gate of the Manor.

As soon as he reached his exit, he used his newfound Death Eater ability to half-apparate himself into a thick black cloud of smoke that allowed him to fly over to where you were - not giving a care in the world if he were seen by muggles as he recklessly took every shortcut he knew towards your hometown.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There was a slight breeze in the cloudy air that brought you comfort. It was cold, but refreshing - a sharp contrast against the burning feeling that never seemed to leave your body. You were back home now, in your small little town in England that held little to no wizards.

You spent a lot of your time wandering around the local stores and cafes nearby, mingling with strangers as you told them fake life stories for fun. There was also the small forest behind your house you regularly enjoyed, and all the small hidden creatures that you encountered along the way. You always brought along your family cat, the chunky orange tabby always finding his way for you outside of the forest when you got too far in, or if he sensed there was nearby danger and would warn you. Sometimes you would talk to him, complain to him about everything that was bothering you and he would respond to you now and then with broken meows and chirps that made you feel like he understood, even though he didn’t. It made you feel less alone.

Of course, you had your family that worried over your changed behaviors. They weren’t oblivious. They noticed the puffy eyes, the sniffles, and the quiet sobs that escaped under the space of your bedroom door when they would pass by in the middle of the night to get a glass of water from the kitchen. They noticed your sudden quietness, and your lack of interest in everything and hardly found you in the house. You were always out and about, trying to find anything and anyone to distract yourself from what was going on in your mind.

 It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to your family, even though they had incessantly offered their support, you just knew they wouldn’t understand. They would want to know about Draco, his family, and their beliefs. They would eventually figure out of his involvement with the Dark Lord and the looming second Wizarding war. They wouldn’t approve, and you didn’t want to hear the scolding you would get for ever giving him the time of day. You were bitter enough as it was, and the last thing you wanted to hear was how bad Draco was and how you were better off without him.

But even if you were supposed to be better off without him, a life where he wasn’t in it didn’t feel good at all. It felt empty and lost. You were used to his presence always being around you and how he was always a few minutes away from you. He was always available to you for anything and willingly; for company, affection, comfort, reassurance, love, everything. You hated the fact that you let yourself get attached, especially when you knew deep down the direction the relationship was going in.

There were days when you would wake up okay. Days where your mind blocked out your feelings entirely, including Draco and all the memories that came with him. There were days when you felt like you had finally forced yourself to move on, but always finding it to wear off when you’d clamber into bed at night and your brain started illustrating everything you didn’t want to remember. The silver band bracelet he had gifted you was in constant movement from your wrist and jewelry box, hidden on the days you wanted to forget him or sitting pretty on your skin on the days you missed him the most. As much as it hurt to think about him and remember him, you couldn’t stop the way your whole being drifted towards him.

You were currently stepping over a big fallen tree trunk covered in thick green moss, your cat following closely by your leg as he pranced and jumped over all his obstacles. You walked mindlessly around the greenery, not taking notice in the shape of the leaves of the fern you were placing your hand upon to move out of your way. It wasn’t until you felt the sharpened ends of the leaves dig deep into your skin that made you recoil your hand back in pain, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as a small gash began to form with blood flowing quickly upwards out of the new cut. Your hand was held in the air as you frantically looked around for anything that would stop the bleeding that was now dripping sleekly down your arm.

“Stupid ministry and underage magic,” you mutter under your breath. Your wand was in your pocket, begging to be used, but the idea of being sent a letter from the ministry that was now under the Voldermort's control quickly dispersed any desire you had to use it. “Come on, kitty. Let’s go back home, please.”

'Home' was a word the cat did understand. He bumped your leg with his head before meowing loudly at you as he began trotting off to your right side towards the exit of the forest. He moved stealthily, dodging in and out of everything that was in his path as you attempted to follow in his cleared steps. Every time you would trip or rest briefly, he would stop ahead of you and wait until you would walk towards him again before he started back on the journey.

When you finally saw your house in the distance, you sighed in relief at the thought of your first aid kit waiting patiently for you in the bathroom cupboard. And belatedly, your feet hit the stone path that led home, skipping slightly with your hand in the air before nearly toppling over your cat as he stopped abruptly in your path. You moved out of the way, last minute, and very clumsily before eyeing him suspiciously.

He was looking up at the sky, his ears pulled back and the fur on his back straightening up as his eyes frantically searched around the clouds above him. He wasn’t hissing like he normally did when he felt something dangerous coming, he looked more confused and alert than anything. You searched the sky with him for a minute before concluding he was being too wary so you bent down and pick him up with your uninjured hand, nearly scooping him into your arms until he carefully swiped at your arm.

“You’re being dramatic, there’s nothing there,” you exclaim at him irritably. You were stumped, on one hand, literally, you were still bleeding though it had significantly slowed down and was now just coagulated blood, and on the other hand, you couldn’t leave the cat outside because of the number of dead critters he left in his past outdoor ventures around the yard and his sometimes week-long disappearances that left everyone in the house worried.

In just a few seconds of your thinking, he had sprung forward and rushed towards the large open field that was a few feet away from your house. Although it was summer, it had been rainy and allowed the grassy field to flourish in tall and wild greenery. This did not help as you watched the fluff of orange disappear into the small jungle that lied ahead and you began to sprint after him, spotting his bushy tail in your vision every time he jumped over something. If you could use magic, this little ordeal would have gone much more different - but you couldn’t.

You chased him until the very near end of the field, spotting him sitting calmly as he looked back at you as if he was expecting you. Rolling your eyes, you reached towards him again to pick him up, if he wanted to go back to the house scratching and biting then so be it. You trained your gaze on him, trying your best to grab him as carefully and as slyly as you could. But as soon as your hand landed on the silky fur of his back, you heard a soft whooshing sound a few feet away in front of you and a very audible shuffle of dead grass crunching underneath someone's shoes as they moved slowly. 

You didn’t look up, all of a sudden feeling scared at who could have magically appeared in front of you, and instead, you waited for your cat to hiss and attack, but he sat himself down in a loaf as if he were in the most comfortable place in existence. This is when you looked up, and the sight before you was like an invisible force that knocked you onto your bottom as you jumped back in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

What was supposed to sound like a concerned question, came out a little ruder than you had intended, almost seething at the boy that was fearfully staring down at you.

“I’m sorry,” Draco ran his hands over his pallid face in distress, “I shouldn’t have come.”

There was an awkwardness that hung in the air. The two of you were finally where you had wanted to be, together, but now that you were face-to-face it couldn’t have been more perplexing. He didn’t know how to begin, and you weren’t sure if you should even listen to him. It was like a weird staring competition, he was taking in everything about you as you were doing the same to him. It was obvious you were both a wreck, and the damage was apparent on him the most as he was dealing with his Death Eater status now more than ever.

“Your hand is bleeding,” he stated suddenly. You didn’t have time to answer before he had cautiously walked over to you and sat down beside you in a flattened patch of grass. “Let me see it.”

Like magnets, your hand instantly fell into his cold grasp without you thinking about it. You eyed him carefully and quietly, observing him as he turned your injured hand over in his and inspected your gash like you had done many times in the past for him. You didn’t stop him when he took his wand out of his pocket and waved it over your wound, murmuring a familiar spell that closed the cut with ease, a small pink scar left in its place. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” you say lightly. “Thank you.”

“I learned from the best,” he smiles faintly. 

Neither of you moved from your sitting spots, and neither of you said anything. He would meet your eyes now and then and search them with such a pained expression that it took everything in you not to just throw yourself into his arms and cry in relief that he was there.

“I know it was Snape who killed Dumbledore and not you,” you break the silence apprehensively. “Harry told me.”

“Potter told you?” He grimaced, but he let out a breath of relief. “I would’ve thought the git would have loved to throw me under the bus. I didn’t even know he was there, then I see him chasing us down-”

“Draco, why are you here?” You asked him again, gingerly this time and cutting him off from his rambling in hopes that he would just cut to the chase on his unannounced appearance. He sighed, looking down at his now muddy, once expensive dress shoes.

“I needed to see you,” he answers honestly. “And I wanted to apologize for how I left things.”

You peered up at him with a raised eyebrow, bringing your knees up to your chest so you could rest your head against them as you faced him. “Let’s hear it.”

“I’m serious,” he frowned. “I’m sorry I used my wand against you. I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I left without giving you much of an explanation. I’m sorry I abandoned you and disappeared off the face of the Earth. I’m sorry I broke my promise that I would never leave you again.”

“Draco-”

“No, wait, I need you to understand that I thought leaving you was the only thing that would keep you safe. I would have never forgiven myself if I let you die for trying to help me, even if you say you’re ready to accept whatever fate is in store for you, I’m not. But I don’t want to run anymore, I don’t want to be away from you, I can’t do it and I always think I can let you go for your safety, but I can’t.”

There was a brief period of stillness as you contemplated his apology. Your head moved to fall in between your knees as your hands began to fiddle with the long strands of grass beneath you. You were stripping it and pulling at it, hoping that there would be a hidden message underneath the earth that would give you an answer on what to say or what to do, but it wasn’t possible. The only thing you found was the loose pitiful tears slipping down your face that seeped into spots of dry soil. Draco stayed wordless beside you, the only sound coming from him was uneven breaths as he stressed over your reaction.

You were caught in between wanting to give in, wanting to forgive him, and hug him and kiss him to make up for all the tortuous time lost, but there was also a part of you that was now afraid to trust. You wanted to, so badly, but everything felt so unpredictable. You weren’t sure whether you could handle him leaving again if he had to. And if he were to die at the end of all of this? There was no way you’d be able to recover from a loss like that. He was on an unforeseeable path that held no clear outcome.  

“I’m scared, Dray,” you sniffle, closing your eyes tightly as you began to answer him. “We’re not kids anymore fooling around at school. Everything is getting more real by the day. How am I supposed to be comfortable with the idea that you might-”

You stopped yourself from finishing, a soft sob escaping your throat at the near mention of his possible death. You felt him scoot closer to you, stopping about a few inches away from your shuddering body as he placed a reassuring hand on your lower back.

“You say you can’t accept the decision I made when I said I’m ready for whatever fate lies ahead of me,” you mumble miserably. “Well, I can’t accept yours either.”

“I won’t make any more promises I can’t keep,” he starts warily, “but I can promise you that as long as I’m around, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. And as far as my future goes, I promise that I’ll do everything and anything I can to survive this.”

You had unhooked your arms from around your legs, bringing them underneath you as you sat yourself up to face him better. He was staring at you intently, hopeful gray eyes boring into yours with every emotion under the sun flashing through them. He didn’t show it, but he felt like at any moment he was going to faint. He had never seen such uncertainty on your face and it killed him, but he tried to remain stoic as he spoke and kept a brave face at every concern you had. He couldn’t guarantee you anything that lied ahead, but there was also nothing he wouldn’t do for you now.

“Okay,” you agree, finally giving him the consolation he had been woefully praying for. “I believe you, we can get through this together.”

There wasn’t another second spared before you speedily moved out of your sitting position to pounce him with a tight and suffocating hug. It was desperate and smothering, his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back as he pressed you deeply into his body as if you were going to disappear any second.

You didn’t care that you could barely breathe against his chest or that your knee was digging into the mud below you. It was the most relieving feeling in the world, finally being in his arms again with new hopes and possibilities that always found a way to present themselves. It was one of the many reasons that you knew he was the one for you. Everything with him felt easy, even if the world was crashing down around you. He could melt away all your pain and worries with one look, touch, or words. He felt like home and heaven all in one.

It came to you in the middle of your longing hug, that there was always going to be something looming over the two of you in the current state that the wizarding world was in. There’s no point in wasting time when everything could change overnight, just as it had that unforsaken day at Hogwarts before you were dragged home the next day. There was no reason for trying to stay away from him when it was everything you wanted and you knew then that you needed to take advantage of whatever time you had left with him.

“I'm sorry for saying I would never forgive you that night,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “And for being stubborn.”

“You had all the right to be angry with me,” he laments.

“But it didn’t make it okay,” you nuzzle yourself deeper in his embrace, frowning to yourself as you recalled the night.

He looked down at you, a pang of guilt hitting him when he saw the corners of your lips pulled down in sadness. He leaned down and carefully placed a kiss on your temple, lingering for a bit before moving away and muttering, “nothing about that night was okay.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

There wasn’t an inkling of an idea how long the two of you were sat outside, holding on tightly to each other as you filled each other in on any news that happened in the last month since you’ve seen each other. The only indication that let the two of you know that time had surely passed was that the sun had begun setting behind the valley in the distance. The moon now had a faint appearance in the purplish evening sky that was for the first time in a while, free of the heavy cloud covers.

You listened attentively as he told you about the Manor and how it was being used as a Death Eater meeting place. He told you about his father being released from Azkaban as a treat for the Malfoy’s since he had fixed the cabinet and disarmed Dumbledore for Snape to finish, unknowing to him that he would. He explained to you how ghostly he felt when he was venturing out of the school that night. He even scarcely described the horror that had gone on in the dead of night, when victims had been brought back to the house for ‘interrogations’ and the way their screams would keep him wide awake for days.

You nearly felt sick to your stomach the longer he went on, empathizing with him delicately when he would sometimes stop talking to take a deep painful shaky breath. The guilt that was eating away at him wasn’t hidden or pushed down, he expressed it very obviously and you couldn’t picture how he managed to hold a straight face in the sea of terrors he had encountered.

“You’re nothing like them,” you whispered tenderly to him when you saw the distant broken look that clouded his eyes. “You are good, Draco. Not once have I ever changed my mind about that.”

He was slipping, far and fast into the depths of his despair. His new life away from school was eating away at him now that he was forced to experience it upfront. He wasn’t cut out for it, nor did he want anything to do with it. It physically pained you that there was nothing you could do except offer him what you’ve always been able to provide; a listening ear and to remind him that he’s not the evil monster he deludes himself to be. 

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” he mumbled gloomily, taking your hand into his as he turned to look at you. “I want to hear about you and your summer.”

“It wasn’t pleasant or anything, honestly,” you shrug, “I spent most of it in the village nearby and the forest behind my house with my cat, who by the way knew you were coming somehow.”

You both suddenly turned to look for the orange tabby who had seemingly disappeared without either of you noticing sometime throughout the evening. 

“Where is the little critter so I can thank him for leading you to me,” he chuckled softly as you rolled your eyes.

“He’s probably back at home now but I’ll pass the message,” you bite back a smirk.

Draco felt the familiar fluttering of pixies in his stomach as he looked at you, a sense of exhilaration and delight shocking his body from its usual anguished state. He was so far gone in you and he never wanted to leave the feelings you left him with and with such little effort. He couldn’t count how many times he had the same thought in his head when he was around you, much like your own, he knew with you was where he was at his calmest and his happiest. It was like a chunk of agony being released from him that made him feel like he could breathe again without feeling like he was going to drown. Even if it was just for a few hours, he was always grateful for moments he shared with you and the comfort you brought him.

“I love you,” he said dazed, eyes locking onto yours intimately. “I hope you know that.”

"I love you,” you repeated, a coy smile making its way onto your features. 

“You know,” his thumb began mindlessly running over your knuckles as he spoke, “if it wasn’t for my mother knocking some sense into me earlier, I wouldn’t have had the great idea to show up here.”

He looked over at you when he felt you tense up completely, slightly worried at first before a small amusement quickly replaced his fear when he noticed you were gaping at him with wide wondrous eyes. 

“You told her about me?”

“All about you,” he nods, “I accidentally let your name slip a while back and she’s been asking me about you ever since. I didn’t want to say anything in case someone heard, but everyone was gone today and she got it out of me.”

“What did she say about me?” You asked him timidly as if it was the most important thing in the world for you.

He chortled quietly at your nervousness, “she said she thinks you’re wonderful and she’s glad we met. She pushed me to come and make things right with you and she offered to look out for us.”

There was an intense delight that beat against your chest at his answer. The only other person in his life who’s opinion he valued the most above all had made one about you, and it was one that was better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Narcissa Malfoy had vouched for you before she’s even properly met you and it left you feeling astounded and beyond appreciative.

“When you get home, please send her my regards,” you plead heartily, your hands clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket as he laughed lightly. 

“I will, I will,” he smiles, “I have to be home soon, so she’ll hear about it within the next half hour.”

Draco pulled you up with him as he stood up, both of you finally stretching out your limbs with groans and sighs of relief from the tension of sitting for so long.

As you peered up at him, you let your hands slide up into the platinum blond strands that looked brighter than ever under the now bright moonlight. He placed a hand over one of your wrists, a smile growing on his face as he noticed the silver band sitting warmly against your skin. He leaned forward to press his forehead against yours, letting himself stay there for a minute as he tried to revel in the last few moments of peace he was going to try and prolong for the rest of his night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazed delicately over your cheekbone as you leaned into his touch. “Right back with you.”

“I’ll be waiting, Malfoy,” you grin.

For the first time that night, he ducked down and pressed his lips soft against yours. The gentleness quickly dissipated into longing and fervor as he kissed you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do, seeking the closeness and union he missed so desperately. Neither of you made any move to pull apart as you melted into each other, basking completely in the feeling of being so close to one another like this again.

If it wasn’t for you worrying about his timely arrival back home before everyone, you would have allowed him to keep you like that forever. But much to your dismay, you tapped him lightly against his chest that let him know it was really time for him to leave if he wanted to keep his secret trip, secret.

You stood there sadly, watching him as he unwillingly backed away from you and whispered one more goodbye to you before he disappeared into the sky in a ghost of black smoke, the aroma of his cologne still lingering in the air and a swollen feeling against your lips that left you feeling fuzzy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

The Malfoy Manor was staring eerily back at Draco when he finally arrived back in front of the main gate of the home. It was deathly quiet and dark, only a small light could be seen from the living room as he approached further into the property.

He swiftly ran up the steps, hand falling carefully onto the brass doorknob of the front entrance, stopping in his tracks completely when he heard a mixture of hushed angry voices.

“I told you, Bella,” he heard his mother exclaim fiercely. “He only went out to clear his head.”

“Clear his head of what?” his aunt sneered. “He’s falling weak, Cissy. He should be running around in joy that the Dark Lord has him in his inner circle.”

“My son is not weak, don’t you think this can all be a little overwhelming for someone who hasn’t even finished his schooling?” His mother defended him and he could picture the exact sneer on her face as she spoke.

“I want to know where he went,” Bellatrix says hotly, “he’s been gone too long.”

Draco ran through a list of excuses in his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he decided on one and put on a straight face as he turned the doorknob, cautiously stepping into the dimly lit living room where both his parents and aunt were waiting for him.

“Ah, there he is,” his father announced as he was the first one to see the boy clambering inside.

“I’m sorry I went off for so long,” Draco spoke up before anyone could ask. “I remember someone mentioning they had spotted Potter around a village nearby so I tried to go look for him.”

“Did you?” Bellatrix chastised. “And nothing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged with a feigned annoyance.

“And you were alone?” She added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, all by myself.”

Narcissa gave her sister a pointed look as she walked up to Draco, hand gripping tightly onto his arm before leading him away from the surprise interrogation and towards the foot of the stairs where she stopped him hastily.

“How did it go?” She asked almost inaudibly.

“Y/N sends her regards,” he whispered, “thank you.”

He gave his mother a warm hug good night before he hurriedly bounded up the stairs, looking down towards the living room once more where Bellatrix was eyeing him carefully. He decided on giving her a curt nod before vanishing into his bedroom and letting himself fall against the shut double doors, a large exhale of relief slipping past his lips as he was now safe to freely recall the night with a dazed smile he didn’t want to let go of.

PART 6

TAGLIST:

@viirgobbyy  @bluesunflowersz  @dreamyvcid  @goddessofgames  @natt-nih  @cheesecakes-randomshitz  @supersouthy  @rebellionsarebuiltonhopee  @peter-parka​  @thefandomplace​  @angelofslytherin​  @karentheugly​  @thebirdskeeponsinging​  @rubbyy420​  @bimyoux​  @lovely-valllll​  @angstywhore​  @moose-squirrel-asstiel​  @lordfxxker​  @dommiefinch​  @johannalauraaa​  @aestheticallymarauderss​  @mrs-isabela-malfoy @dogglefoggle​ @ba-responds​ @1tristful1

APOLOGIES IF I FORGOT ANYONEEE 🥺 BUT I REALLY HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER EVEN THO IT WASNT TOOO EVENTFUL ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I GOT ACTION FOR THE NEXT PIECES THO JUST WAITTTT

[neoheros]

sneaking out headcanons feat. gym 3 squad ♡ — also this is all gonna be set in an au before or without the quarantine, so don’t leave your house please!! social distancing is important and people are dying!!

kuroo tetsuro

listen LISTEN

sneaking out is terrible and you should never do it because it’s dangerous and risky

and you as the woke and understanding gen z that you are definitely respected that

but , BUT , BUUUUT !

the minute your boyfriend snapped you a photo of him in his car with him rubbing his tired eyes captioned “couldn’t sleep, dreamt of u”

your morals were OUT THE WINDOW and now it was your turn >:// !!!

kuroo: i know it’s 4 am but what’re the chances you’d hop out for a quick trip to chick-fil-a 👉👈

you, purposely taking two minutes to reply: why are you still awake

kuroo, who knows you like the back of his hand: babe don’t lie to me, it’s embarrassing for the both of us x

so you agree !! because it was kuroo, the love of your life, the man you’d simp for, and he’s paying for food so hell fricken yeah

you throw on a hoodie, lock your doors, fluff up the bed to make it look like someone was sleeping in it just in case and you gently make your way towards your window

due to personal reasons, you want to pass away

you suddenly remember why you hated sneaking out and boy — the food kuroo was buying you better be worth it

the only way you were actually gonna get down from your two story house that idiotically doesn’t have a roof ledge was if you grab onto the tv satellite that latched by the sill

from your window you see kuroo’s car parked by the trash cans near your house and he’s got his windshield down signaling at you

mfer pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved as he zooms closer to your figure and he SMILED ?

you were in a dilemma?? and he had the audacity???? the fricken audacity???

kuroo, snapping you the vid he took: babe please you’re so cute you look like a tiny gremlin

you: had me in the first half, not gonna lie

it was a MOMENT for you !! but you just say what the hell and go for it anyways because you only live once apparently and sneaking out with your boyfriend at 4 am was better than sleeping

you grab onto the satellite ridge and you pray for mercy that it doesn’t make a sound or loosen up because if anyone found out you were doing this it was definitely kuroo’s ass on the line

while you’re struggling to get down, kuroo’s just in the car ??? laughing his ass off at your current state and you swear that he’s still taking photos

you get down on the cement safely and instead of him pulling up closer to your drive way naaaah he makes you walk to where he was at 😤

you, getting in the car: if i dump you by the end of tonight, just know that the only reason why i didn’t do it sooner is because i wanted food

kuroo, putting on your seatbelt: we’ll get back together in the morning, i’m not worried

so the two of you make your way to chick-fil-a, get food via drivethru and eat in the parking lot with the doors open and the windows down

he still looks very tired and before you even realize it it’s already 6 in the morning

you catch him yawn every few minutes and he always reassures you that he didn’t mind staying up this late :(

he’s baby

kuroo: lets get you home, are you gonna dump me yet?

you, kissing his cheek: no, i kinda love you

kuroo, less sleepy with a lazy smile on his face: aha simp

tsukishima kei

bro if you think he’s a goody two shoes boy who won’t ask you to sneak out at like 2 in the morning , you are so wrong

canonically, he is the most devious and logical character in the entire anime and if he wants to go out with you before the crack of dawn — he fricken will !!

he’s gonna be so sly about it too, nah, he gon make you think it’s your idea to sneak out

tsukki, texting you a tiktok of homemade shrimp rotini at 2:35 am: look what yamaguchi sent me

yamaguchi, who fell asleep three hours ago and absolutely is not in any state to send tiktoks:

so you’re there like ??????

bruv you were just tryna scroll through your twitter feed in peace, why the hell would he send you that like that’s so uncool

because now you were sleep deprived and hungry

you, close to tears: does your house in hell have a pool or

tsukishima, unnerved: i don’t like the concept of swimming

he’s gonna go on about how he didn’t realize what he did and how he’s kinda sorry for waking your hunger but you weren’t born yesterday !! you smelled BS !!

so you facetime him, ready to go off on how unsorry he is and you can already imagine the shit eating grin he must’ve had on

he answers after three rings and he’s in a MFING yellow hoodie with the dinosaur print in the middle, his hair neatly tucked and you just know that he’s got his keys on his fingertips

you, defeated: i’ve been played

tsukishima, heading out the front door: i deny all accusations

you’re not even upset though because this was a perfect opportunity to try the stability of your roof ledge and tbh? who wasn’t unreasonably hungry at 3 am

turns out climbing out your window was harder than you thought and you may or may not have gotten two new bruises on your wrist just by trying

safe to assume that you fell on your ass and since the universe has a particular hatred towards you, your boyfriend arrived at the perfect time to witness all of it

tsukishima: how are you gonna kiss me when you’re too busy kissing the ground

you, tears on your cheeks: if i wanted a bully instead of a boyfriend i would’ve SAID SO

when you get in his car, the first thing he does is ask if you’re okay though and he’s checking your wrists and hands for any scratches or bleeding because 🥺

tsukki: you’re such a clumsy idiot what the hell

tsukki, kicking down the pavement when you’re not paying attention: 💢🪓

you guys end up going to numerous places because most of the drivethrus in town were already closed

you see him get tired behind the steering wheel and you almost have the urge to offer to drive but you didn’t really feel like crashing his car any day soon so

you: lets just head to starbucks hm? get some coffee?

tsukishima, feeling bad because he knows you wanted to get food: we don’t have to

you, in love with him: if you say no i will willingly walk all the way to starbucks by myself , what , you think i won’t do it

so you guys go there and order a couple double shot espressos with a side of scones and muffins and the entire time you’re just trying not to shiver because name one starbucks you’ve been to that hasn’t been unreasonably cold huh i dare you

he notices this and he gives you his hoodie and ITS JUST THE SOFTEST THING OKAY BECAUSE HE’S COLD TOO BUT HE JUST WANTS YOU WARM

you: i knew it, you love me too huh 😌

tsukishima: unfortunately so

akaashi keiji

AKAASHI IS LEGALLY THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD !!

like he cannot be a bad boyfriend ?? it’s impossible for him to be so ?????? he’s just built that way ????

he’s the ultimate mixture of respect and self love , god was just like “let’s make this one perfect !!”

he’s DRIPPING in love each other juice and he eats kindness for breakfast so ha !

he physically cannot say no to you because he flat out adores you

( except when he feels like you’re wrong or being irrational to which he’ll politely correct you and educate you because that’s on what? that’s on having a healthy relationship ♡ )

so when you hit him up at 5:23 in the morning after a series of tiktoks that he has yet to see and react to you about, he’s kinda alarmed

but then again he’s also not ?? because let’s face it, at this point, he’s used to you spamming his inbox

the last thing you sent him two minutes ago was a text saying “bro just imagine this: you and me at a maccas drivethru with two oreo flurry’s and a box of 20 piece chicken nuggets — immaculate”

and you didn’t really expect him to reply?

it was five am and you were absolutely shit talking but when you saw his face time status go online you were just like ?????

akaashi, snapping you a pic of him under his covers with very tired eyes: it’s 5:27 am

you, sending him back a photo of you and the 2000 piece puzzle you spent the last two hours doing: that’s not a no 💅

he doesn’t reply and you’re not really upset by it because he probably just fell asleep and that was really cute to you so !!

but then two minutes later he’s facetiming you and you JUMP at the sudden ringing

he’s all tired and his voice is groggy and tight but he’s still smiling as he says “i’ll see you in ten”

YOU ARE !!!! PUMPED !!!!!

you won the boyfriend lottery , holy hell

now the only thing keeping you from seeing your man and the mcdonald’s sign was the eleven foot gap between your window and the solid concrete

you’d usually take the stairs but you just know that your mom would absolutely murder you for trying to sneak out when you should be asleep 💆‍♀️

it was either climbing out by clawing through the pipes or not being able to give akaashi a hug and you were not gonna let that second one happen

akaashi, after reading your two paragraph rant on how unnatural it was for your window to be that high: please be careful

you, haven’t slept in 32 hours: screw careful ! i embody elegance !!

in which elegance was screaming every time your pipes squeaked because dear mercy you did not want to die yet

akaashi, who just pulled up your drive way and is now seeing you almost fall to the ground:

you, on the verge of tears: please catch me

AND he does 🥺

it was a close call and he barely even made it to you when you chose to let go but HE DID ANYWAYS

you kinda fell on him rather than landing smoothly in his arms but that’s okay you were just glad you didn’t die

when you both get in his car, he just takes a hot sec to dust you off and ask if you’re okay and he’s so concerned please tell him you’re fine

he’s such a baby please i can’t believe this shit

the two of you end up in a mcdonald’s parking lot with doja cat blaring on the radio and you guys do your best to hold back your laughter as you eat

it was pretty cold and the sun was rising but honestly you couldn’t find the urge to care since the moment just felt so surreal

you: i’m sorry for waking you btw 🥺

akaashi, showing you his new lock screen which is the picture he took of you when he first saw you climb out the window:

you: i’m less sorry

bokuto koutaro

BOYFRIEND OF THE MFING YEAR

i accept no arguments, go cry about it

i literally don’t care what anyone has to say, bokuto is the only man ever ? he’s so deserving of every right on earth i’ll cry

the way that this is the third night in a row he’s stayed up til 4 am and he’s not even alarmed about it

like at this point he’s just accepted that he is nocturnal and that’s that on that !

before he actually had the idea to ask you to sneak out for him, he debated whether or not it was worth it

you needed sleep and you barely got any so when he knew you were resting he absolutely refused to message you :(

but then he also thought about how you would love to have a large dunkin iced coffee right now

and he was already getting ready for his morning fix so why not just ask harmlessly?

if you weren’t going to respond then he’d be okay with that because he knew that you were resting well

but if you were going to answer his consecutive texts with a positive reply then HE IS 🥺 over the moon

you, barely awake: can we get a venti triple shot latté instead , my caffeine tolerance is SHOT

bokuto, snapping you back within a minute: babe you are delusional if you think i’m gonna let you drink that

so it’s 5 am and your parents are in the other room asleep but you know that their jobs start pretty early so you had to get a move on

your room wasn’t that high from the ground to be honest, so you weren’t really worried about falling off

what you were worried about was how dizzy and out of depth the melatonin gummies made you because in order to fall asleep you took 3 and now that you basically forced yourself out of a self induced coma, your body was on the verge of passing away

bokuto tells you that he doesn’t mind if you’re not up for the trip and he’d just bring you back your coffee BUT NAH

you’re not a quitter 🤬 you miss your boyfriend and you are gonna do whatever it takes to spend some quality morning time with him !!!!!

so you throw on a proper outfit, make your way through your window and gently do your best to refrain from yelping every time your hand would slip from the railing that’s keeping your balance

bokuto, pulling up seeing you on your roof: you’re so strong 🥺👉👈

you, barely alive: all for you baby ❤️

he helps you get down from where you stood and he had the prettiest smile on earth i SWEAR when you immediately sank in his cold chest

he apologizes for making you sneak out like that BUT NUH UH YOU DO NOT LET HIM

he is a gift !!! and you knew how tired he must’ve been too since he kept yawning but he still took the time and energy to pick you up 🥺

he fastens your seatbelt in the car and puts the windows up because he knew that the air would get in your face and you didn’t like that

he even brought you a spare hoodie of his because he remembered how much you swooned over this particular fabric

bokuto: we’ll get you some coffee but you can sleep while i drive, ok babe?

you, trying not to cry: are you single because i really want to kiss you

bokuto, kissing your cheek: i’m dating someone i’m sorry

[tohruhondaismydaughter]

Just had some headcanons about Machi pop into my head that I wanted to share with yall. So we know this poor girl struggles with "perfect"/neat things right? Well I was thinking about some healthy coping mechanisms she could develop to replace the whole 'breaking property/living in a dump' thing & here's what I got so far -

1. She always tries to wear odd socks (unless she's invited somewhere nice)

2. Ayame & Mine help her find cool asymmetrical stuff to wear, how to make clashing colours/patterns work for her & teach her how to sew up her old clothes in a more "punk rock" way (after Yuki & Kakeru explain some of her issues with perfection)

3. Tohru gently points out that she dosn't have to tie her laces the same way on both shoes if she dosn't want to

4. Haru & Rin (awkwardly on her part) teach her the power of acessorising (ie. wearing only one earing, putting on an uneven amount of bracelets/rings/necklaces, adding paper clips of different sizes & colours to your clothing & Machi later ends up adding stuff like buttons to her outfits/belongings as well which Haru & Rin are tottally surppotive of despite thier difference in style) & hair/makeup which (thanks to Yuki's advice) they make sure to keep slightly messy (Kimi laughed at it at first until Momiji made her feel bad after he told her that Machi had gone to the bathroon & wiped off all the make up & undid the hair style so Kimi bought her some limited edition Mogeta merch, after asking for Yuki's advice, in apolgey & started referring to Machi's new hair/makeup style as "punk chic" whenever anyone tried to mock Machi about her new look)

5. her & Momiji go on a crazy tie dying adventure (much to Hatori's grumbling & Mayu's amusement)

6. Kormaki gets her into collecting second hand fridge magnets which she then later uses in her work (my version of post-serise Machi is an artist) once the magnetism finally wears off

7. Kagura teaches her how to fix up old plushies (Machi likes creating Mogeta inspired characters) & gives Machi all her old cat ones to work on (Machi descides not to ask why Yuki's cousin was seemingly once obssesd with orange cats because she looks rather embrassed & a little sad when she hands over her collection)

8. Kyo reluctantly teaches her how to cook a few simple dishes (Tohru comes over as well & Yuki insists her food is better but Machi prefers Kyo's simple style of presentation so it's eventually descided that Kyo & her will do the cooking & Tohru & Yuki will deal with the cleaning which Yuki agrees to becuse cleaning is still difficult for Machi but Kyo says it's actually because no matter how much Tohru tried to train him rat boy knows he would never be able to do anything in the kitchen but burn water)

9. Kakeru teaches her the skills of 'excessive badge & sticker decorating' as well as giving eachother fake tattoos (Kisa congratulates Hiro on not saying anything rude to Yuki's girlfriend about her appreance after they first meet her)

10. Cuts her hair short (she delibretly makes it very choppy) once she enters university, where the rules are less strict about your apprence (at least it is if your at art college), & she also regulary wears diffrent coloured wigs (her favourites being a dark red one & a rainbow one) whenever she wants to temporarily change her appearance (beacuse she didn't want to commit to just one look, still wanted to have the ability to quickly "become invisable" again & she heard from Kimi that exsseive hair die-ing could permantly destroy her hair & scalp) it takes her until she's 30 to try out shaving all her hair off (she worried she'd look sick/crazy or not feminine enough) & everyone's really surppotive (though Kimi dose cry a bit, Rin & Haru aren't there when her hair is being shaved & Kyo is a slightly confused as he'd always thought women liked having longer hair then guys) especially Ritsu (who's growing out thier hair again) & they all throw her a big party (Haru & Rin are there for the party bit just not the hair removal bit because it brought up some bad memories) where Kakeru films it & posts it (with Machi's permission) & they give her cut off hair to a charity chosen by all thier followers (despite her disbelief Machi has manged to gain a small group of loyal fans from all her art stuff & her apprences on her loved ones social media), Kakeru also later uploads a video where they help Machi rainbow dye her buzz cut, (she later explores many diffrent types of buzz cut patterns such as flowers & geometric shapes but, at Kimi's insistence, gets them done by a professional)

11. She recycles & D.Y.I's like crazy (Momiji started singing Do Re Mi from The Sound Of Music after she told him that her new dress was actually made from curtains & Yuki cried when she gave him a little rat plushie made from felt, after he came clean to her about the curse)

12. She almost never wears an apron while working on her art because she likes getting messy

13. When her & Yuki go out to eat she loves things like fondoe (both the chocolate & cheese kind), eat N mess & is genreually just a fan of finger food & it becomes a tradition between her & Yuki (& later Mutsuki) to go on a stroll through the park after thier meal & (if it's autumn) look for piles of leaves to jump in (Machi & Yuki also like playing a game where they try to look for the weirdest looking leaf to give eachother & whoever wins gets to pick what they'll eat for dinner that evening & the looser has to cook it, Mutsuki is the "impartial" judge)

14. Machi is amazing at scrapbooking & collarge making (Tohru is more of a dream journal kind of girl)

15. When it's Summer her, Yuki & Mutsuki go down to the beach to see who can find the weirdest looking rocks (the less impressive ones often get used in Machi's art work, the coolest ones Mutsuki gets to keep & any that are too perfect get tossed back in the ocean & Mutsuki likes to score the splashes they make on how big/loud they are)

16. She loves helping Yuki out with gardening for lots of reasons (it's therapeutic & she loves seeing Yuki happy) but she can't deny it's also just fun getting muddy

17. Machi, thanks to Kakeru, devolpes a love of paint ball (but instead of using guns they just throw the paint at eachother like in 10 Things I Hate About You because apparently the gun pellets actually hurt) & will bring it up as an activity idea to her loved ones any chanse she gets

18. Decorates as much of her flat (& later her home with Yuki & Mutsuki) with Mogeta merchandise, random things she collects & her own art work as a big fuck you to her bitch "you have 0 personality/hobbies or talents" of a mother

19. Kisa (happily) & Hiro (reluctantly) introduce Machi to the magic of glitter

20. Machi & Rin eventually become proper friends due to bonding over being abounded by their asshole parents & one of the things they like to do together is work on thier seprete art peices while listening to music (Machi dosn't do any of her "aggressive" art, like plate smashing, around Rin though thanks to Yuki & Haru warnings)

21. When stuff gets to be too much & none of thier other coping strategies are working (like watching Mogeta stoned- which Kisa, Tohru & Momiji do not partake in) Machi & Haru bond by going to rage rooms together to destroy shit & scream (Haru obviously dosn't want Rin around for any of that though so Momiji, Tohru, Kagura or Hana will often take the opportunity to hang out with her, one time Yuki offered & it wasn't bad but it was definitely awkward as they had never really hung out without Haru before & Haru teases her for ages afterwards about her ending up liking Yuki once she actually spent some time with him which, like the precious tsundere she is, Rin will forever deny)

22. (I actually made a whole seprete post about this ages ago but now it seems to have vanished so in case other Machi fans are unable to find it l'll add it here) on the days that it's supposed to snow but dosn't Yuki takes her (& later Mutsuki) skating so she can enjoy scratching up the perfectly smooth ice (they would have gone on double dates with Tohru & Kyo if Tohru wasn't freaked out at the idea of having blades on her shoes & Kyo hadn't claimed to "not trust" ice, he's dislike comes from all the times Kagura had forced him to ice skate with her on the lake near Kazuma's place in the winter when they were kids, so they would instead go with Haru & Momiji - they had thought about going with Haru x Rin & Kakeru x Kormaki once but he proudly revealed that he'd been banned from thier local ice rink years ago for trying "perfectly safe" Olympic level stunts in he's attempt to recreate one of he's favriote episodes of Power Rangers, much to he's fiancee's anger, & Machi reminded Yuki that though Haru & Kakeru were fine with eachother Rin isn't reall able to stand Kakeru for longer than 5 minuites)

[noneatnonedotcom]

concept: TOTAL WAR RWBY

in a universe where the great war destroyed every kingdom and caused a collapse of civilization you play as one of the five remaining peoples of remnant as you seek to (re) forge a kingdom that can stand the test of the grimm tide

KINGDOMS

Vale: led by Ruby Rose

ruby's kingdom of vale focuses on light cavalry and ranged. her own special abilites as a general are

SILVER EYED WARRIOR: grimm are weakened greatly within her aura and can even be outright destroyed if the differance in power between her and them is great enough

OPTIMISTIC HEROISM: lower unhappiness in area's controlled by ruby means that there's less Grimm to fight overall meaning lower garisons and more money spent on the main armies

unique units

Wood Runners: long bowmen with added range and melee combat stats equal to melee infantry. light armor means that you should keep them in cover though as well as being a juicy target for cavalry. added range over most normal archers and better armor piecing with their arrows makes them a powerful, unit that can last in melee as well specializing in Anti heavy infantry

Dire corgis: large war dogs with aura unlocked. look like giant corgis because they are giant corgis. great for running off ranged units and light cav. weak to spears, though their aura lets them hang around in combat longer than most would think. they do rely on the charge bonus though and can't be controlled once they're let off the leash. can be called back to their handlers though to be repositioned

FOCUS OF CAMPAIGN: ruby's main focus is to retake the cities and villages of vale that were lost to the grimm tide. your main strategy should be to build up on patch while the rest of vale falls to the grimm before striking out. your main advantage is against the grimm not people after all. and your added happyness means that you can spend more on your armies to put in your frontlines rather than worrying about protecting your rear (ruby's got a great rear guys) your main rival will be

UNITED TRIBES OF VALE: led by Yang Xiao-Long

yang's all about shock infantry and charge bonuses. using them to break the morale of enemy armies her special abilities are

HOT STUFF: human morale lowers around her and buildings catch fire in her aura when she's in combat. she's too hot to handle

PROBABLY WASN'T IMPORTANT ANYWAYS: still recruits units and receives money from buildings that are burned down. though at a slightly reduced rate

UNIQUE UNITS

Bandits: replaces mob, cheap units that gain charge bonus when next to another bandit unit. burn down buildings when nearby. no formations though and can't brace for charges so avoid cav. low morale, they're bandits they're not sticking around when shit goes south

berzerkers: shock infantry, cause dread in enemies lowering morale. chance of going berserk which makes them unbreakable but uncontrollable may even attack allies if they're the closest unit. REALLY FUCKING STRONG ON THE ATTACK! weak to ranged

yang's campaign is all about uniting vale as a tributary state to the tribe. you can recruit units from burned down buildings and still get money so spread like a wildfire and try to show your baby sis that it's safer under your protection. be aware that grimm are gonna be a huge problem for you so keep some bandits as a garrison in every village to deal with grimm.

"some of you may die... but I don't really give a shit about you" - Yang to the bandits probably

vale is a mix of American and French culture. so yeah kinda like Louisiana plantations but with more anime

Vaccuo: led by Jaune Arc

jaune specializes in pike infantry with heavy armor and heavy knights on horseback. he's set up to be a slugger with his special abilities

AURA AMP: allied units in jaune's aura slowly recover health and have increased stats (including armor)

SCION OF HEROES: the effects of chivalry are doubled and you gain it faster.

UNIQUE UNITS

shining knights: heavy knights with aura and mounts also in aura and armor. fuck you, fuck the guy behind you, and fuck the guy behind him I'm coming through. very expensive high morale and capabilities

rainbow guard: heavy pike infantry that proudly protect the standard of the arc family. give extra morale to those around them. fuck you they're not breaking. if there's even one guy left they're still fighting.

jaune's campaign is centered around taking control of the deserts and jungles of vaccuo from your origins in the mountains and hill country of the arc territories.

vaccuo's culture is like Scotland mixed with the middle east. fiercely independent people with a very strong sense of honor. also fuck you they'd rather die then be seen as a coward so you'd better just fucking kill them all. AND FUCK TAXES! so jaune has his work cut out for him, but he's in it for the long haul

MINSTRAL: LED BY PYRRHA NIKOS

pyrrha's all about personal combat and single entity units

INVINCIBLE GIRL: pyrrha herself is fucking busted and everyone wants to be like her. single entity units like huntsmen or companions are stronger and get more XP from battles

AN OFFER THEY CAN'T REFUSE: if pyrrha has more military power than someone they have improved relations with her. peacefully annexing people is possible this way. though this can cause a problem if you expand too fast

UNIQUE UNITS

pyrrha's guard: heavy spear infantry made in the image of spartans. slow but they decimate cav outlast ranged and out fight most over infantry. but they are fucking slow and hate being flanked where their phalanx will not work.

nora and ren: two unit entity, stealth shock is the name of the game ren sneaks them in close to anything even grimm. nora deals a fuck ton of damage all at once that can't be blocked by armor and shatters units. you only get one though sorry the world isn't ready for two noras

while sino/Greco/Roman culture makes martial ability the most important, however, only champions and highly expensive units can be trained. your low-level fighters (I.e most of your army) will have to be mercenaries. still with enough champions, you can take on most things so that's good

SCHNEE DUST COMPANY led by Weiss Schnee

atlas is all about dust weapons. a necessity because of but funded by Weiss's special abilities

COMPANY MEN: units require less upkeep cost

WEISSY: she's kinda a bitch, -50 to all diplomatic relations -75 to faunas factions

UNIQUE UNITS

WEISS GUARD: dust rifle units, slow to reload but longer range than normal dust muskets. dust round in general deal moral damage greater than almost any other units in the game (only yang's berzerkers and blake's beast-men scare people more)

BIG GUNS: 24LBS rifled field guns. or cannons rather for those who don't know the difference. fire straight and have an effective range of 1500 feet. highly accurate and with enough kick to drop even the largest of grimm

atlas and the SDC by extension are based on German and Russian culture (mainly german now that the nobles are gone) and have their main campaign focused on dealing with internal divisions and grimm. their cheaper units lends themselves to using dust arms rather than melee but bare in mind they suck in melee as a result. still, weiss is of the opinion that if you can kill your enemies from the comfort of your home and simply bombard them into submission or dust, why wouldn't you?

Menagerie led by Blake belladonna

menagerie must toe the line between animal and man, utilizing special abilities like

SAVAGE REPUTATION: the effects of dread are doubled and you gain dread faster

CUNNING HUNTERS: blake has bonuses to stats and the stats of her army while ambushing or attacking at night. doing both will make the bonuses stack

UNIQUE UNITS:

white fang infantry: can deploy anywhere light armor but use spears so cav has a hard time with them

NINJA: can deploy anywhere, inspire dread, use grenades flung from slings. capable of vanishing or using smoke bombs to lower enemy stats in melee for a short time

menagerie is a mix between Australian and Polynesian cultures but they are relatively new on the world stage. having been granted the island of menagerie in the brief time before the collapse of vale after the great war. the fuanas population outside of menagerie is very low as a result of the collapse and you have to ask yourself "what will you do to ensure the survival of your people?"

menagerie is a mix between Australian and Polynesian cultures but they are relatively new on the world stage. having been granted the island of menagerie in the brief time before the collapse of vale after the great war. the funas population outside of menagerie is very low as a result of the collapse and you have to ask yourself "what will you do to ensure the survival of your people?"

concepts.

chivalry: is a meter in the game, doing honorable actions increases chivalry. making formal declarations of war and waiting a turn to attack, not doing night battles, honoring alliances and calls to arms. generally making combat harder for yourself will be seen as chivalrous. the higher your chivalry the bigger bonus you will have to morale in battles and to diplomatic interactions.

dread: dread is the opposite of chivalry and is gained by doing unchivalrous actions. it will cause the enemy to start with lower moral and cause everyone (including yourself) to lose moral more quickly. this can be really helpful against strong enemies that have better weapons than you. it will also cause diplomatic relations to be harder. using dust muskets or cannons will cause dread but only in small amounts the more you use them the more dread you'll cause

post-campaign content

finishing your kingdom will open up international diplomacy and will allow you to start a campaign in another kingdom. each with different results based on the person you're playing

jaune can marry the ruler of another kingdom giving him their special abilities (jaune can only get dust muskets and cannons after he marries Weiss btw)

Pyrrha may offer protection to the others and gains their general unit for her own army

yang may extort tribute from them and treat them as the tributaries she had before gaining access to their unique units. ruby may offer bonds of friendship and do the same

blake may create embassies and get faunas versions of each unit (they can fight at night) as well as improve her chivalric reputation with each campaign (basically lets you gain the bonuses of dread without the negatives)

and Weiss may open up branch offices and have each character as a leader under her (you basically play the official campaign as the character you choose but with access to Weiss's abilities and units now as well)

you may only do one campaign at a time. so if you're jaune you have to subjugate yang and ruby in vale before you can try to marry weiss. you gotta finish what you started before you move on basically

on each map, there's an ancient grimm. this is a massive single-unit entity and has an army of grimm backing it. defeating this grimm will grant you a major bonus to happiness and prevent further grimm from showing up later.

single unit entities are very powerful but get weaker as their health goes down. their health will recover with time though

if you finish every campaign as a single character you unlock the grimm tide. salem has taken notice of you and wants you gone before ozma has a chance to bring you to his side. grimm will spawn every turn based on the unhappiness of cities in every kingdom you will wage a war all over the world against the grimm and try to hold on as unique and powerful generals lead hords of powerful grimm to attack you. these hords will even be supplemented by the grimm attracted to your unhappiness to keep your pops happy!

if you beat every general salem herself will come to take you out. she has an unending army that will constantly get reinforcement from offscreen every time you kill off a unit and she's a capable commander in her own right with powerful magic that will prevent you from camping too much (she's out of practice so she can only cast a spell every once in a while, be sure to move when you see the strange glow) if you can manage to get your character to her through her army you'll win and defeat her once and for all

@weatherman667 don't know if you play total war but had an idea for total war rwby and wanted to know your thoughts on the various kingdoms as lead by the main characters.

anyone else who sees this and has suggestions go nuts with it. it's just a bit of fun at the end of the day. how would you incorporate a character? what would their unique units be?

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

Pulse Point

A/N: Requested by anonymous. Warning for canon-typical violence; minor character death, nightmares, and post-traumatic stress. Also: borrowed Dr. Sweets from the show Bones.

Summary: A near-death experience leaves you with recurrent nightmares. Neal offers some comfort.

Word Count: 5,154

The steady beeping of hospital equipment was driving you insane. It had been hours now of nothing except the monotonous noise of your own heartbeat. If it didn’t shut up soon, you would claw your ears off. With a stiff body and an ache that penetrated down to your bones, you forced your body upright and pinched open the pulse monitor on your right hand.

You let out a relieved sigh as the equipment went silent and dropped yourself back onto the well-padded pillows behind you. The pulse monitor clattered to the floor on its long white cord and you settled down for a nap. The ache in your bones made you feel heavy, like lead. There was nothing quite like a well-deserved nap.

In mere seconds after you had closed your eyes, the equipment started acting up again, this time blaring one long, constant shriek. The surprise made your heart skip a beat, but your eyelids were too heavy to look and see what had happened. Then your heart kept skipping, and your throat tightened. You couldn’t breathe. Your chest burned. It wasn’t a heartbeat; it was a flatline.

You were dying.

The leaden feeling in your body doubled. Your muscles didn’t respond to trying to move and you couldn’t force your lungs to take in a breath. Footsteps pounded around you, incoherent shouts going in one ear and out the other. You were desperate for your paralyzed eyes to open. Was this what you’d have for the rest of your life? Nothing but darkness and unintelligible, mind-numbing noise, punctuated by electrical humming and the pain of a vice clamping itself again to your finger?

The flatline paused for a second. Your ears rang and you thought, for a moment, that you were safe, your heart was beating again. Instead, your stomach twisted and you realized you were losing feeling in your toes. No blood. No life. When the screech of your flatline came back again, it was louder, more piercing. The shrillness reminded you of screaming.

As soon as you remembered it, it was there – the same screaming as before, somewhere in your room, echoing from every corner. In the next pause of the flatline, it turned into a hoarse shriek and a plea. “No! Please!”

You couldn’t hear anything underneath it, no more overlapping voices, and your panic increased. Where were the doctors? Did they think you were gone? Help me!

Your eyes opened with a sudden snap, the droning of your alarm clock replacing the flatlining of the monitor.

As you stared at your ceiling, you panted for breath. Rationally, you knew, you had probably never stopped breathing, but in the panic of your nightmare, it felt like you’d been smothered. Terror powered your desperate gasps and convinced you that your feet and hands were numb, even as you could feel that one foot was poking out from the end of your blanket. After a long moment, you dared to move your arm, ready to scream if you weren’t dreaming after all and still couldn’t move. You turned your alarm off easily.

Soft rain pattered against the glass windows, creating shiny-looking streaks as droplets collected and streamed down the side of the building. It was much more soothing than the silence that usually reigned in Dr. Sweets’ office when he was waiting for you to talk. Maybe he should invest in one of those noise machines with rain as an option. You thought about making the suggestion, but knowing him, he would probably call you out on the procrastination, or deflection, or whatever else he wanted to call it.

You broke the silence. “I’m certain I can wait you out for the next…” You checked the clock. “Twenty-seven minutes.”

Dr. Sweets raised his eyebrows, still leaning his head on a closed fist, propped on the arm of his chair. “I’m equally certain I can recommend you remain on desk duty for the next…” He pretended to check his watch. “Twenty-seven weeks.”

You scowled.

Psychological clearance was a bureau mandate after something traumatic occurred during the course of the job. You’d been lucky enough not to need it up to this point, but after… that, you hadn’t been given a choice. Dr. Sweets was a highly qualified psychotherapist, and you were sure that he did amazing things to help a lot of people, but so far you felt neither amazed nor helped.

“Agent L/N, you went through something incredibly harrowing that you were very close to not walking away from.” The psychologist finally took his head off his fist and put his arm down in his lap. At least he’d taken the bait and you weren’t the one starting the discussion. “You were a half-inch or couple minutes from bleeding out.” He pinched his fingers to demonstrate as if you didn’t have a scar on your body that distance from your femoral artery. You’d never be able to forget what half an inch looked like.

“But I did walk away, and the person who did that to me is in prison for the rest of his life.” You crossed your legs, trying to look more comfortable than you felt. You weren’t sure how effective you were going to be at convincing a therapist that you didn’t need therapy, but it was worth the try.

He looked utterly unconvinced. Actually, the jerk looked like he knew exactly what you were trying for and thought it was cute that you thought you could trick him. “Justice, or even retribution, which it feels like you’re leaning towards, doesn’t erase a wrongdoing or its associated harm.”

“I didn’t erase it, I healed from it. I took medical leave, now I’m back.”

“Physically, you healed. It takes a lot longer to heal mentally from those kinds of wounds.”

“Does it?” You challenged.

“I think your nightmares speak for themselves,” Dr. Sweets said pointedly.

You glared at him, at a loss for a quick comeback. You knew you didn’t look like a million bucks, but you hadn’t thought it was that obvious you were losing sleep. If he knew, then the coworkers who spent a lot of time with you must know, too. Especially Neal – nothing got past him. Oh, that was embarrassing.

The nightmares had been recurring for weeks now. They had started once you had a return date to the office, but after actually resuming your work, they had increased in frequency and intensity. They weren’t identical, but they did all share some similarities: some fatal injury had you dying, alone, in the dark, like you almost had in real life. You never got to the point of actually dying in your dreams, you didn’t think, but you were just fine with that. They were bad enough as they were. Yes, they were a sign of trauma and anxiety. But if your mind didn’t heal itself from weeks safe at home, then you knew returning to normal as fast as possible was probably your best bet at getting over what had happened.

“I’m not your enemy here,” the therapist said to you more gently. You couldn’t say he was heartless, even if you didn’t enjoy the half-hour sessions where he tried to talk about your feelings whether you wanted to or not. “My goal is the same as yours. I want you back at work, safely, able to sleep through a night so you don’t jeopardize yourself or the people around you.”

You let out a deep sigh. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me about the affect this has had on you.” Dr. Sweets encouraged, not for the first time. “You’ve accepted what happened. I can see that. But the next step is processing what it means for you, as an agent, as a person… maybe both.”

You felt helpless. What was that supposed to mean? You couldn’t very well tell him you were terrified your job was going to actually get you killed or cost more lives on your watch. When your employer paid your therapist’s bills, you couldn’t fully trust doctor-patient confidentiality. Maybe it was just paranoia, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk it.

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted. Your tone sounded mournful. In a way, you were mourning for a time when you could sleep through the night and enjoy your days at work. It wasn’t like white-collar crime was your passion, but you did like puzzles, and you did like being around the people you worked with, especially a certain blue-eyed felon. “I keep having nightmares that I’m… injured, and I’m alone.”

“Your wire was jammed and your team didn’t hear you signal for backup.” Dr. Sweets talked slowly, patient and pragmatic as he validated your nightly anxieties. “You expected help, but they didn’t know to come.”

“They did come,” you said with a shrug. “It just… almost wasn’t in time. I know it wasn’t their fault.”

Your words about time felt glued into your ears. Yours had come really close to running out. And for what? Insurance fraud? No amount of money justified murder, and you likewise couldn’t put a price tag on a life. So why were you so eager to leap back into the same job that almost cost you yours?

It was something you had been mulling over since it happened. Your job was dangerous. You had always known that. You’d been shot at, been near explosives… your partner had been abducted by a murderer not that long ago, and your best friend had had guns in his face so often that, honestly, you’d lost count a while ago. Somehow it just hadn’t clicked, you supposed, that you could legitimately die. You were protected by the bureau and your body armor, until that wasn’t enough. Other agents had learned that lesson in a much harder way; being confronted with that was hard to simply get over.

Apparently, your use of the word “fault” led Dr. Sweets to talk to you about guilt and anger around the incident. You didn’t blame your partner or feel angry, except at the man who shot you, but you let him continue around your noncommittal, half-assed answers. You knew he at least suspected you were putting him on again, but you also knew you hadn’t given him much to work with. Then again, he didn’t call you on your bullshit replies, either, so you weren’t quite sure what he thought.

While Dr. Sweets had yet to approve you for field duty, there was still plenty to do at your desk. You pretended not to notice the itch in your legs to go somewhere while you kept yourself busy, preparing documents, performing research, helping delegate and manage case files, and topping off your team’s coffee whenever they got low. You had become even more of a desk jockey than Neal; at least he got to go out with Peter when given the green light. You missed outings with your partner, or really with any other agent.

Comparing yourself to a caged tiger was likely on the dramatic side, so you put it out of your mind and refused to feel sorry for yourself. You understood the protocols and the routines and they were for your benefit as much as the bureau’s. Besides, your team wasn’t treating you like you were fragile or demoted. They leaned on you to help just as much as they ever did, the assignment of duties just went a little differently.

You doodled a cat on your notepad during a meeting. Everyone had great ideas and you tossed in some ways you could contribute when you’d been quiet for a while. Peter’s proposed field op was going to go smoothly. Odds were high that any hiccups could be taken care of by Diana’s swift running of interference. Neal was raring to go and Jones was a little too excited to play the part of an intimidating brute, in your opinion, and Peter was appropriately apprehensive (someone ought to be, after what had happened to you).

“Let’s sleep on it,” Peter decided after looking out the window and seeing how low the sun had sunk. “If we’re all still in agreement in the morning, we’ll set the ball in motion.”

Jones graciously commented, “Good idea. We can all think on it.” He was probably the most cautious of all of you.

“Y/N?” Neal asked. You immediately looked up from your (admittedly lopsided) cat drawing. The forger was still in his chair, even while the others were pulling on their coats and blazers. “You’ve been quiet. Do you have any concerns?”

You shook your head, but not too quickly that it raised suspicion. You could get away with doodling – Peter often turned a blind eye to it; after several years, he’d developed a soft spot for you – but only if you were still paying attention and participating, so you didn’t want to give him a reason to suspect you weren’t.

Peter, Diana, and Jones all said their goodbyes. The two younger agents left the room, but Peter lingered at the doorway.

“Neal, do you want a ride?” He offered.

Neal looked from you to Peter, and then shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll find my way. You don’t want to be late for roast,” he added when Peter looked unconvinced. After glancing at you, your partner decided that he really didn’t want to be late for roast and left without another look over his shoulder.

Now that you were alone, Neal softened his expression. “Seriously, Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I told you, I’m not worried. We’ve thought of just about everything we can predict.” You said with a straight face, pretending not to know that Neal wasn’t just talking about this specific case anymore.

He wasn’t having it. “Don’t lie to a conman, Y/N,” he chided you with a small, fond smile. “Come on. It’s not just today, you’ve been quiet ever since you came back. It’s not like you.” You raised an eyebrow and pursed your lips, uninterested in talking. Neal reached partway across the table for you but stopped there. It was an invitation but not a command. “I’m worried about you.”

The thing about your history with Neal was that it was a close one. You went from strangers when Peter got him out of Sing Sing to best friends within the span of two years. You trusted him more than you trusted just about anyone, and there hadn’t been a time when one of you needed the other and was turned away. He didn’t come to you when he was upset – seeking out reassurance and comfort was not Neal’s strength, because it involved professing vulnerability – but he never turned you away when you came to offer it, either. Now it seemed to be his turn to do the offering, as he had realized over the last few weeks that you weren’t going to ask.

You reached for his hand and silently sighed in relief at how solid and warm it was to the touch, so unlike the few dreams where you screamed and cried for someone to help and found yourself grasping at tricks that weren’t there. Neal turned his hand to hold yours and gave it a squeeze.

“It’s been so hard, Neal,” you told him reluctantly. “I have no idea how you do it. How you just walk away from all the close calls.”

Neal frowned a little. “I don’t just walk away,” he objected. “I have bad nights. I have bad days. Sometimes I have a whole bad week, or a few bad months.” You knew the latter was a reference to losing Kate, and you sympathetically gripped his hand tighter. “But, you know… there’s always something I can find to focus on instead, and after a while, the things go in the past. I let go.”

That advice was entirely unhelpful. “I’ve been trying to let go,” you said sourly. It wasn’t directed at him, exactly, but moreso at your brain, which was failing in its task of moving past what happened. “It’s not working. I can’t sleep. Sometimes I don’t think I can breathe.”

“It’s not easy,” Neal agreed, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. It was an intimately affectionate gesture that comforted and eased the nerves beginning to bubble in your stomach. “Company helps. The reminder that I have backup, even when it doesn’t come right away. I’ve got Peter, Moz. You.” He met your eyes with a small smile and raised your hand to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“Company?” You echoed uncertainly. If you were unconscious, how was company going to make a difference to what you dreamed about? Then you remembered what you had said to Dr. Sweets about your nightmares always ending with being alone. If you knew, on some level, that you weren’t alone, maybe you would feel safer. “Like, overnight?”

His expression didn’t change to give away whether you were right or wrong. Instead, he just asked, evenly, “Is that what you need?” The way he looked at you then, without judgment in his eyes, but with determination in the set of his jaw, you just knew that whatever you said you needed, Neal would move a mountain to give it to you.

“I’m not sure, but… maybe?” You hesitantly guessed. If it worked, it would be worth the awkwardness. Even just one night of solid sleep would do wonders for how you felt, and it wasn’t like it would be the first time you had stayed with Neal overnight. Long marathons on slow weekends, and the less pleasant nights after Kate’s death, meant he kept an extra toothbrush and a set of your pajamas in his penthouse.

“Okay,” he said right away with nothing but quiet matter-of-factness. It was so comforting to be proven right that you could rely on him to help you with what you needed. His tone just said, you need this, so we’re doing it, full-stop. You just hoped you were right, both so you could finally go eight hours without fearing for your life and so you weren’t inconveniencing him for no reason. “Let’s get dinner on the way. We don’t have to talk about it,” he quickly said, seeing your face. “Whatever you need.”

Everyone should have a friend like Neal, but everyone should find their own, because this one was all yours. If it weren’t for the table in the way, you would’ve launched yourself at him in a tight hug. As it was, you settled for a squeeze of his hand and a grin as wide as you could muster. “Dinner sounds great.”

The stickiness of your pants along your thigh made your hands shake, unable to bring yourself to look at your palms. You knew what you would see all over them. The fire lancing up your thigh told you what you already knew. So did the weakness in your body and the fog in your mind. It was done. The hourglass on the desk was trickling through the last of its sand. Moretti was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t even die in the presence of a murderer.

There was screaming coming from another room. It was the desperate wail of another agent begging for their life. “No! Please!”

“No,” you mumbled, using all of your energy to turn your head to the doorway. He couldn’t… not now that you were down… you couldn’t even raise your voice to cry for help. You were completely helpless. You couldn’t save him.

Your chest burned with the effort of your heart, ironically helping you to bleed out faster. Your breaths came labored, and then they couldn’t come at all as your vision faded. The dark carpet blurred from a mass of pilled fibers into a solid navy sea. The pain in your leg was excruciating, it was all you could feel; the idea of feeling peace ever again slipping away.

Screaming. Banging. Footsteps. More screaming. Pounding. Shouting. It was all indistinguishable, a mess of men’s voices and loud gunshots. Then, you heard it. Just your name, barely audible above the rest, in a voice that made you strain to see past the blackness.

“Y/N!”

You’d give the rest of your precious seconds away just to see him one last time, just to know he was beside you and you weren’t alone.

“Y/N!”

Footsteps came closer and the pressure on your chest intensified. The blood loss made you dizzy and your body shook.

“Y/N!”

You jolted awake, eyes snapping open in time to see Neal leaning out of the way just in time to avoid your hand flying at his face. You processed slowly that his hands were on your shoulders – had he shaken you? – and it was still dark. You could barely see his face, but his figure was lit from behind by the lamp next to his bed. You could tell from his messy hair that he had been sleeping not long ago, and you felt awful for waking him up.

After cursing, you sat up and gripped the warm blanket on your lap tightly. “I’m sorry,” you said remorsefully, feeling like a fool. Not only hadn’t you been able to sleep through the night, but now you’d ruined his rest, too. You cussed again. “I really hoped being close… just not being at my apartment, alone…”

It had felt like a safe bet off to a good start. You had gotten dinner together near Gramercy Park, then watched a lighthearted movie before turning in for bed. Neal offered to let you take his mattress, but you didn’t want to put him out and you had slept over enough that he didn’t feel like a bad host for letting you insist on the sofa. You’d been out by ten, but now you could guess it had been less than four hours. Your heart was still racing, your leg still tense with an imagined pain.

“It’s okay,” Neal said, sounding unsettled. He kept his hands on your shoulders like he was keeping you grounded on the earth. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

Neal’s eyes must have already adjusted to the low light, because his aim was spot-on when he lifted a hand from your shoulder to cup your neck instead. His profile ducked and you felt his lips land on your forehead, checking your temperature, signalling forgiveness, and administering reassurance all at once. He rubbed his thumb across your jaw as he stood up straight, releasing you, and walked away around the couch.

You put your legs down in front of you and rubbed your face, exhausted mentally and physically. Helplessness made you want to cry. Time wasn’t healing. Sleeping pills just made it harder to wake up, letting the nightmares ravage your psyche for longer. Not even the proximity of someone you trusted and adored was enough to let go of the past.

The light in the kitchen came on, bright enough to illuminate the studio but far enough away not to be blinding. Neal came back to the couch holding a bottle of water and offered it to you before sitting down. He looked so adorable, still sleepy and with a bit of pink in the side of his face from sleeping with his arm under his pillow. You scolded yourself for even thinking about how cute he was when you were the one who had woken him up.

You sipped at the water. It was so nice and smooth on your throat. You felt fine, now that you were awake, but the vividness of your nightmares always left you feeling parched and you always expected swallowing to hurt as if you had strep. Neal leaned into the back of the couch and put his arm up along the cushions. You capped the water, bent your knees to pull your feet back up onto the furniture, and let yourself lean into his side. Neal dropped his arm softly on your shoulders, holding you in a tender sideways hug.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again after a couple of minutes. You felt much better, much faster than you usually did, thanks to him, and if you were being fully honest, you were not ready for him to get up and go back to bed, but it wasn’t fair to ask him to stay up cuddling you at god-knows-what-time just because you were a wreck.

“I told you, it’s okay,” Neal said, his voice firm. If you apologized again, you figured he would start scolding you for it, so you let it go.

“I just – I should’ve expected this,” you said with frustration, feeling like you were confessing to knowingly bothering him. “I haven’t been able to sleep well in ages. I keep having these nightmares, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Neal was quiet for a few seconds, making sure you had said all you were inclined to. Then, knowingly, he asked, “This is about the Moretti case, isn’t it?”

“I can’t let it go,” you said with a whimper. “It won’t leave me alone. Every night, it’s a little bit different, but at its core it’s always the same.”

Neal’s voice cutting through the fog of your nightmare had been a saving grace, giving you peace even in your unconscious, but now that you were awake, you realized with clarity that his voice saying your name wasn’t the only voice you could make out. In fact, you always heard the same thing, every night, no matter what else changed.

“What’s the same, Y/N?” Neal asked you, trying to help. He stroked your upper arm with his open hand. You were already shaking your head. Neal could comfort you all he liked, but he couldn’t bring back the dead. In grief and shame, you turned your head and bent your neck to bury your face in his shoulder. Neal tilted his head so his cheek was resting gently on your hair. “Tell me, darling,” he coaxed in a whisper.

You felt like someone’s hands were wrapped around your throat, strangling your reply. “Agent Flynn,” you answered dryly, barely more than mouthing his name. “In every nightmare, I hear… I hear his last words. Begging Moretti not to take the shot.”

Neal was quiet for a long time, but never pushed you away. He held you closer when you started to shake, crying against him as quietly as you could manage. The artist rubbed your arm and periodically kissed your head, but he knew that there was nothing he could say to erase the horror of what you had heard or take away the guilt that you had survived because Moretti was distracted by taking out the other agent.

Moretti was part of a family gang, often in conflict with the Barellis, who, interestingly, paid a little deference to the white-collar division ever since you and Peter had recovered a stolen Book of Hours. The Morettis had no such connection or gratitude, so their response to the FBI sticking their nose into an embezzling scam was violent and bloody. Moretti shot you in the leg and intended to finish you off, but one of his own men had reported you came with someone. He left you to bleed out, and only a few rooms over, you had heard Flynn’s pleas – and the subsequent gunshot. Your team, wising up to the dead signal, arrived for a takedown before Moretti could make his way back to you, but it was too late for your teammate.

Neal shifted after what felt like forever, only to pull you closer to his chest and wrap both arms around you. You trembled in his embrace, but that just made him hold you closer, like you were delicate and breakable. When he next talked, his low voice was quivering, just like your body.

“I thought we lost you,” he said, cupping the back of your head in a gentle hand. He massaged his fingers into your scalp, even as he kept you cuddled in his lap. “I thought I lost you, Y/N. Two gunshots. I thought…” He struggled to find his words and you hiccuped, trying to stop crying. “I was the one who found you, and I was so scared I was too late.”

You sniffled and uncrossed your arms to melt against his chest and hug him tightly around his waist instead. “I didn’t know you…”

“We found him first, but you weren’t there and I needed to find you.” Neal now sounded equal parts frightened and furious. “If he had taken you away, I would’ve…” He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, as desperate to be close to you as you felt to be close to him. “I would’ve shattered. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I just can’t lose you, too.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t die,” you blurted, almost in a sob. You felt so safe with him, but now you knew for a fact that your own safety wasn’t what had been tormenting you. It was a nearly debilitating case of survivor’s guilt. “I just wish I hadn’t been the only one who survived.”

“No one wants that,” Neal promised you, untangling his hand from your hair and stroking it down instead. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix this and take it away, but all I can do is be here and hold you and tell you it’s going to be alright. It wasn’t your fault.”

You sniffed. Neal’s words were more of a comfort than you had thought they would be. They changed nothing about the situation, but… you weren’t alone. You hadn’t been alone since you met him. You just agonized that Flynn had been. “Neal, I can’t lose you, either. I love you, you’re… you’re who I’m going to heal for.” You had to find a way.

Neal seized your lips with his in a searing kiss. It wasn’t as sexy or patient as you may have imagined, but you gripped his shirt and gave as good as you got, and wow, the man gave verygood. It was a desperate kiss, needing to bring you together and reaffirm your life. To you, it was the seal of a promise that you wouldn’t let the past crush your spirit. When you could sleep through the night and had a handle on your post-traumatic stress… if he would just be patient, you would be his the way you wanted him to be yours.

He released you to breathe, eyes opening wide as if he only just realized what he had done. Before he could pull away, you pressed your forehead to his again, urging him to stay close. Your breaths mingled between you and you were sure you could feel his heart beating through his chest.

“I love you, too,” he said once he had caught his breath.