#I mostly put a bandage on it and forget until the bandage falls off

[neodragon]

I walked past a drawer ( 2 leg scars)

I jumped past a door (stomach scar)

Walked backwards into a radiator (leg scar)

A friction related scar on the back of my foot that I've forgot on how I got

Belly button (technically both the bellybutton itself and tha scar I got from being ichy as a child)

and many more that I can't count, (blend in to my skin tone/ too many in the same spot(

Put in the tags how many scars you have and how you got them

[sshassh-sshout-you]

"Creation" Chapter 2. Moment that stretching out for minutes

A/N: I have terrible insomnia - but I decided to turn it to my advantage and publish now

Word count: 3,9K

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and injuries, molestation, corpses and death, post-traumatic stress, short description of nudity, swear words and self-harm (but there mostly safe)

🎧 Jurrivh — Forever

The sun, making way through the hut, beats on your temples. It is stuffy under the blanket of skins. The nest is heated and disturbed — you were tossing and turning in your sleep as if in a battle.

Slimy dreams of encroachments on you. There is no getting rid of it. It has been going on for years, and these memories will follow you, follow your footprints and squeeze the strength out of you.

From the overwhelming despair you want to scream, to tear your voice until it is hoarse, to choke in powerless, unceasing sobs — you cannot forget your past and cannot know your future in advance. You do not know how to live in the present. Without regrets, without disappointments and without fear. Tracks of tears cut your cheeks, flow to your lips.

You can't cry! — you remind yourself of one of the damned rules.

You can't cry here, because you don't trust this place. Because you don't trust any place you'll ever find yourself. And because you don't have faith in the best, no matter what.

You wipe away the tears that are pouring down your face — and almost laugh from the relief that has come all at once. Not a single cut on your face or hands stings from the salt.

You look at yourself, look at the layers of ointment applied to your tortured skin — to understand where the excruciating pain inflicted by the tormentors has evaporated. After all, only the itching scattered across the body reminds you of it.

And the scars that heal surprisingly quickly.

On your thigh, mutilated by a knife — also healed, but festering — over the shreds of your trousers, there is a bandage. Neat and clean. Made exactly like your blood mother did, when you played and mutilated yourself. And exactly like your foster mother did, when she treated your wounds in a glass room smelling of medicine... You put your palm on the bandage and drive the memories away. You pray that the tears rolling down your chin will dry quick.  And so that these memories return in dreams, and not others.

The fabric of your pants is no longer good for anything. You tear off the legs, above the knees, without regret. The threads crack. The scraps of fabric that remain on you now resemble not clothes, but the underwear that is usually hidden under that.

But even if you leave everything as is, your soaking wet, mud-stained clothes were already underwear. Rags. The kind that men tore off screaming, beaten girls and women where you died.

Your eyes dart to the corners.

Your eyes search, where is something to hide the body parts that the men in the settlement hunted?..

And will this hunt continue here?..

After all, you are sure they are all the same.

You feel naked when the evening wind seeps into the hut and blows on your unprotected shoulders and legs. You hug yourself. Your gaze falls on the sky spread out at arm's length.

The sky-blue robe Noa left behind is first in your hands as you sit at the head of the bed — and then, the sky-blue robe is on your body, covering your bare skin and healing injuries.

Stepping onto the floor with bare feet, you smile blissfully — your legs gain strength. The mark of the knife is still purple on you, but you can straighten your back and look forward. And not shake with anxiety.

The fabric lies along the hollows of your collarbones and neck.

The heavenly surface envelops you. It feels like calm. A silent question freezes in your throat — can you trust this feeling?

The fabric is enough to hide your boobs, visible through the shirt, from the eyes of the clan males. The curves of your hips and knees are also hidden in the falling blue.

Your human nature is also hidden, albeit only partially.

Flowing and half-transparent, this robe gives you a semblance of confidence — it is similar to what covers the shoulders of Noa's mother. Her name is Dar, as you heard from the anxious questions and requests addressed to her. She is virtuous. You remember how it was she who washed you from blood and smeared you with life-giving ointment when you fell unconscious. The robe also resembles the feathers in the bracelet on Noa's forearm. He carried you in his arms.  But when the healing female chimpanzees began to undress you, fallen asleep, in order to heal your countless injuries, he immediately left — so as not to see your nakedness.

Another memory creeps under the fabric you've put on, from your waist to your neck. A man's mouth twisted into a smirk. A man's eyes greedily examining your untouched body. A man's hands folding you almost in half. Your hiked-up dress skirt. Your escape into the oppressive room of changing cloth the corpses...

When Noa said he'd seen you shirtless, you were scared. And angry. What if he'd lied? What if he'd seen much more?..

But he was honest.

After all, knowing many stories about the ferocious strength of apes, you couldn't help but admit — if only Noa wanted, he would easily see those parts of your body that you hid from all of the men. And he certainly wouldn't need to account to you for what he may saw. Or for what he may did.

But Noa didn't cling into you, didn't decide to have fun with you, a weak little echo.

Instead, Noa gave you a thing that could replace your crippled past.

And you accept this thing.

This fabric is bright. Not at all like the almost colorless shirts, trousers, skirts and dresses made of crushed materials. Left in the closet that you will never open again.

The fabric is bright, like the immaculate morning sky. Like a pond babbling with joy. Like the colors of the butterflies that once long ago circled around you...

The fabric is bright, like your childhood left behind the hills and lowlands...

A lump of sadness trembles inside you.

This sadness creates an immeasurable emptiness inside you — because of this, despite everything, you do not want to cry... This sadness creates a light inside you that doesn't dissipate and does not go out.

Nothing will return the good, cloudless, that was in your past. But no one can take away your memory. It cannot be expressed, but the unfamiliar sky-blue fabric reminds you of the most carefully preserved days lived. You accept this reminder humbly — you accept the future that has come. Even if it is foggy.

In the end, if you didn't have a chance for the future, and if the apes were so bloodthirsty — they would have finished you off while you were sleeping. Or, you would have already been tortured until you breathed your last... Or, you would have already been passed around in circles... Or, you would have been eaten alive... But you were saved by the apes and your wounds are healing thanks to them.

And you have nowhere to go from here.

You no longer hesitate because of the rain pouring down in your soul — the evening is clear, and you grab tightly onto everything that comes your way.

After spending monotonous years in confinement underground, you will be able to adapt to life in the bosom of nature.

Adjusting the fabric gathers and adjusting it on yourself so as to more reliably cover your own vulnerability, you are tormented not by doubts, but by curiosity. Does other apes wears something like this? What significance do things like that have here?

You nod to yourself, tightening the tight knot and unclenching your trembling fingers. A sky-blue stain spreads over you, from your collarbones to your calves.

You will think about the meaning of this robe later. For now — painting yourself in this color seems like the least you can do now to express your gratitude.

Although, you still tie the old, torn to shreds shirt around your hips, over the new robe.

The next step you take — to find out what your life will be like in this, as yet uninhabited, hut — seems important and necessary. And interesting. You move away from the nest, starting to examine and touch everything you can reach.

The arrangement of apes differs from the arrangement of peaceful people who lived next to your blood parents, too insignificantly. The same semblance of curtains, the same dishes. Probably, the same habits. The same bits of houses, not prisons, which you will always keep in your memory in order to live on...

Looking around, you come across a feather tickling your palm. Light brown, fluffy. Taking it carefully and twirling it between your fingers, you assume that the bird it belongs to is definitely large. This fact does not cause you any concern — for almost a day of wandering, leaving a bloody trail like a tail, you have avoided attacks from any forest dwellers. Since childhood, you believed that if you do nothing bad to the creatures of nature and respect its laws, nature will be merciful.

Thanks to this faith, you are alive, health and healing. And therefore you follow this faith.

The feather was lying not far from the exit of the hut, among other household utensils. The winged guest must have dropped it on his way home.

Or is this the bird's home — here?

The teen apes, standing apart from the general excitement, said something about birds after Noa announced his decision — but you didn't hear what exactly.

Among the things created by hand and almost indistinguishable from those you used before, your gaze stops on painstakingly hewn, sharpened blocks of wood. They are small, fit in both your folded hands — you do not understand what they are intended for and you want to take a closer look.

Footsteps are heard beyond the threshold.

As if scalded with boiling water, you twitch. And look for a place to hide. Again... It will take you a long time to get rid of this reflex.

Still holding the feather and wooden block that captured your attention in your hands, you listen. Not the same footsteps that Noa took as he left the shelter you had found, the one he had provided, into the thickening darkness — not heavy, and not shuffling from restrained righteous anger.

Cautious footsteps.

You turn around to see who's milling around outside your new home. You shake your head, not believing yourself and your own sleepy thoughts. Your new home?..

Seeing you on two legs and without heavy eyelids, Soona smiles. At least, that's what you think. It's hard to be sure, since she's still hesitating on the threshold, not going inside. Oh, damn. It's probably because of your rude, unnecessary words spoken with gestures. Noa probably warned his friends not to bother you.

Lowering your head and sighing, you gesture for Soona to come in.

“Echo is feeling... better? That’s good. Then... it’s a long day ahead” Soona’s voice is actually happy when she sees you standing and moving without pain.

“How long did I sleep?.. Children were not scared?” you say. After a long silence, these words seem difficult to say.

“They were worried... about you” Soona adds with gestures that two days have passed. You think that you should fulfill your promise. Go quickly to the little chimps and tell them a new story.

"So where you were?.." You can’t help but ask. After all, you don’t understand why Noa was next to your bed when you woke up?

"Next to you... One by one... Me. Then Anaya. Then Noa... Now again"

The thoughts in your head are confused, mixed up. This is confusion. This is a coincidence. Even after he snatched you from the jaws of death, Noa is a stranger to you. A male. From which comes a hidden threat. He killed to save you. He was ready to fight his kindred, who humiliated you in front of the crowd. Even when he walked away, without answering your silent accusations with a single bad word, he was furious. His breath reared the hanging lights, his intonation chilled you to the heels.

That's why you woke up from the nightmare, wrapped in panic and animal skins. You are grateful to Noa. But you are afraid of him. You don't know what must happen for you to utter even a word intended for him.

And you must always be on guard.

Noa's behavior is not at all like what your father's instructions warned you about. His actions are similar to those feats that were told to you in the semi-darkness by your mother's voice. Everything about him is different from the horror that you lived through. Everything about him is different from the horror that you managed to avoid. But how do you know that he will not compromise his own honor? How do you know that he will not encroach on your honor?..

"So why is there a long day ahead?" You ask, looking determined and smiling. To get out of your own thoughts, wandering into a dangerous thicket.

"There is a lot to learn... And a lot to do" Soona explains and takes your hand, leading you outside.

***

The evening spreads out over the dwellings, golden-burgundy. The sun rolls below the horizon, disappearing behind the forest, hills and rocks. This is the first sunset you have seen in endless years — just like the dawn that blessed you two days ago among the damp earth and grass.

Seeing off and greeting the heavenly light seems like a waking dream to you — although you know that for Mother Nature this is a daily hand-made labor. You want to pinch yourself when the haze of clouds changes shade in front of your amazed eyes. The sky is pink-red, covered with a crumbly sun shine...

Tears are creeping up to your eyelashes, but you blink them away and continue to peer at the painstakingly painted heavenly canvas.

A thin blue stripe is visible under the raspberry-pink clouds.

Soona, holding your hand, gently pulls your palm — you have lost track of time and have been standing there admiring the sky for several minutes.

"Is there sky always like this?.. So multi-colored?" you ask, returning from the sky to the ground.

"You will have time... to see for yourself" Soona assures you. You follow her along the monkey village, awkwardly climbing up. "And now... we need to hear the word of the Elders. Then, go... to the lake"

"The word of the Elders about me?.." you wonder, already entering another, spacious hut hung with many intricate accessories.

This is not someone's house. More like a meeting room.

And this confuses you. Hasn't everything about you already been discussed before the noisy crowd?.. You hear muffled, low voices. And you are not afraid. Even though there are a few males among the lived long lives chimps, they have the same gray hair and wrinkles as the veterans in the dungeon. And they were there, in the boiling lava Hell, a ray of hope and wisdom.

Besides, Dar is sitting in the depths of the hut. This gives you a shaky confidence that there is no reason to worry.

You bow in an attempt to repeat the bow that among the apes, as you have come to understand, expresses respect.

Right above the heads of the Elders, eagles have settled down, as if conferring with them. Their beaks are directed at your forehead when you straighten up again. Or, are their beaks directed at the fish on the flat plate?.. You look at the birds with genuine interest. After all, you have seen them, like so many other things that the world has kept from you, only on the colorless pages of books.

Colorless... The color... No, that can't be. That, too, is a coincidence. Only now do you notice - everyone sitting here is dressed in blue. Here sit the minds of the clan, wise with graces, adversities, and experience. And they are wearing the same fabrics that you are wearing. A little darker and worn differently. But the same fabrics. What does this mean?.. Why did Noa tell you to wear this?.. The knot you tied at your waist feels tight.

There are a swarm of questions in your head.

Nodding at the gesture you don't understand, Soona lets go of your hand and leaves the hut — but she doesn't leave, she stays to watch from the outside.

"Come closer, child... And sit down" the voices are still ringing out, but all sounds in your ears suddenly fade away when Dar calls you. Hesitantly, you sit down on the indicated place, next to her. "Soon you will run... like a little deer" She examines your wounds almost motherly.

"Thank you for helping me..." you whisper with your lips, folding your hands in the only expression of gratitude you know. The elders sympathize with you, but they are unhappy with your presence. "I know I have disturbed. I can leave at dawn... Just let me survive this night here, I beg"

Tear out and chew your own tongue - that's what you want to do now. After all, you swore not to be like this. Not to show weakness. But the plea escapes from your mouth against your will. After all, another night in the forest may be your last.

Praising all the gods known and unknown and whispering nonsense, you sink to the floor. Nothing helps. You are about to burst into tears.

"Not me, that's my son... helped you" Dar puts his hands on your shoulders, calming you down and helping you up. "I'm proud of him. But not everyone agrees... with his decision... Right, Vikima?.."

That elderly female chimpanzee with the cane sits in the circle. Dar addresses her as an equal — and you are ashamed that she saw your stupid, worthless behavior. But her eyes are almost blind, she does not put down the cane even while sitting. That is not why she is against you. She is against all echoes. You understand her fear — from her mournful, unseeing gaze, it is clear that this fear is not groundless.

Noa's silhouette is visible at the entrance to the hut.

Hunched over and breathing noisily, he doesn't bow — his status allows him not to do so. But he expresses respect with a complex movement of his hands, which you will hardly be able to remember and repeat. He was in a hurry.

He looks at you, at your eyelashes shaking with tears. Just like the first time you met, when tears flowed down your scratched cheeks like dew.

“Well... I won’t argue with... the new Master of the Birds. Too old...” Vikima’s voice creaks as Noa also sits down next to his mother. “Let just... your son answering... where has it ever been seen that... echoes shared their homes with apes? Has he really... forgotten... that echoes bring with them... only destruction... and death?”

“If she... had a home. If she hadn’t hidden... like a rabbit from an owl. And if she hadn’t been almost killed by four hands... of echoes like her. And if she hadn’t bled to death...” You hear the growl lingering in Noa’s ribs, not escaping from his mouth.  "I wouldn't bring her... But from this day on, she's going to live here. There's no other place for her"

The disgruntled grumbling stops, but it's like you're back in the forest. Among the thorny branches and wet leaves. Noa was watching you before the bastards threw you down on the cobblestones.

Noa couldn't help but save you. The thought sounds so strange in your head.

Before, men only wanted to beat you, fuck you and kill you — and the male chimpanzee who appeared like a shadow saved you. Not to make fun of you in the most vulgar sense — as the upside-down stories said, — but to ensure your safety... You don't know how to believe this thought.

"For her here... everything is strange" the bald old male, sitting in the distance, support Vikima. "How will an echo divide... our householding?"

You refrain from objecting only when you notice Noa's dissuading glance, invisible to anyone except you.

"The children are happy with her appearance... Isn't this a word from above?" Dar asks, looking up. At the birds and the sky covered with twilight. On this question, which does not require an answer, the advice, apparently, is over. "Let her go to them for now... Settle in... Then we will decide what work she will take up... Go, son. And you go, child"

Silently agreeing, albeit reluctantly, the Elders disperse. Their blue robes darken in the light of the flickering hanging lights.

Fidgeting in your usual place, you think about the words that sounded like an alarm. Your hair tangled under the fabric sticks to your back like snakes.

What the deaths?..

Who brought grief to this primeval place? Why do apes think of all people like this? Do they, too, like you lived all this dark time, live in captivity of delusions?.. It is not difficult for you to believe that this is so. After all, only two days ago you yourself were convinced that all the unsightly stories about apes were true. You were afraid to the point of trembling, to tears and numbness — but even wariness did not force the monkeys to drive you out into the cold of the night. Learning to trust you will not be easy, but not impossible.

"The heavens have sent... so many problems with me for you, Mom" Noa admits guiltily, as soon as the hut is empty and only Dar, he and you remain.

"As much as... happiness" The gesture with which the mother says this to her son is intuitive to you.

You sit like a ball-jointed doll — and memorize this expression that squeezes your heart.

Who knows, maybe you'll have a chance to say this phrase to someone?..

***

Weaving between huts and lean-tos with Soona, Anaya and Noa, you find yourself at the bird pens. They are securely built, tied with ropes and secured to the dry earth with sticks. You run your hand along the wooden crossbars, and the eagles greet you with a many-voiced  scream and clicking. Tiny chicks are scurrying in the distance — you don't dare disturb them, and watch from a distance.

On all fours, closest to the pen, Anaya asks Noa about something, jumping from theme to theme — like from branch to branch. You want to listen, but your attention is riveted to the majestic birds and their home.

There is almost as much space here as in your new home.

The apes don't treat their birds as heartlessly as the people in your settlement treat their starved pets.

"Does everyone in the clan have eagles?" You ask, remembering that there were exactly as many birds perched above the Elders as there were of them.

"For those who find... and raise an eagle from an egg... Like me, like Anaya... Here they are, the shells!.." Soona explains, pointing to the fluffy chicks and following your warm gaze, lost among the flapping of many wings. "Or for those who have an eagle become... a comrade."

"They can choose for themselves...?" You can't find the right word to ask the question on the tip of your tongue.

The word "owner" seems inappropriate to you. The word "friend" seems unpronounceable to you.

Another eagle flies up to the four of you, emerging from the leafy branches surrounding the enclosure. He circles around Noa, who greets him with a special sound. It sounds like a singing language. After that, Noa speaks again, and you listen more attentively.

The burgundy evening covers the sky, the wind blows on your shoulders. You don't shiver, but you sneeze. You wrap yourself in the thin fabric, like a cocoon. Soona asks if everything is okay — and after your timid nod, she continues to answer the question you asked.

"If they... lost the ones they helped before" you know what Soona means. After all, when she speaks, even Anaya stops his careless chatter.

"As happened with Noa and... Sun? That's your name, right?" you ask, taking a small step closer to the bird perched on Noa's shoulder, but not to him.

You heard Noa name the eagle, patting his back. Friendly.

You reach out and do the same. You coo at Sun, praising his plumage.

When you put two and two together, you're sure it was Noa's friend who dropped the feather on your threshold. If Sun was there, does that mean Noa was there too?  So he was worried about you — really worried about you in the way you're trying to comprehend?.. You don't risk telling Noa anything with gestures again, instead trying to silently correct your recent recklessness.

It seems to you the most free, but natural impulse. To show that you are not afraid of everything around you here. To show that in addition to the fear that has taken root in you, here you feel a small, hatching peace.

"He definitely likes echo... A good sign" Anaya laughs with all his teeth, coming closer to the wooden poles.

"He can... peck your fingers" Noa warns you quietly, turning to your face. His green eyes approach yours and you feel anxiety scratching. "Be careful"

"I'll go to the lake alone!.." you squeal when Noa's huge palm meets yours while you stroke the shiny feathers of the Sun. Just one moment that stretching out for minutes.

Too loud, too cowardly squeal.  Where Noa touched you, it's like hot coals are smoldering and scorching your skin. Soona and Anaya are confused and ignoranced.

You cover your mouth with both hands and back away.

Running into the bird pen, you freeze. Noa did nothing wrong to you. Nothing that was done to you in the place that cut your soul. He already held your hands in his, squeezed and caught you when you couldn't move on your own, when you fell and barely realized where you were... Luckily, the birds didn't fly away. They didn't even move, allowing you to remain among them.

Holding onto the sticks, you desperately want to apologize to Noa — but you bite your tongue, cheeks and lips.

Gagging and choking, you cough. Blood pours out of your mouth, probably as much as the healers washed off you.

You swore. Your mouth will not say a single word to any of the male race.

"Why are you doing this?.. How many times have you been scared, so that you are afraid... so much?" Noa asks, approaching you and trying to establish eye contact again, confused. You close your eyes until your temples hurt.

You can't cope with the fear that has attacked you. And you won't be able to tell the story you promised the cubs... They will be afraid of you this...

Splinters dig into your tightly clenched palms.

Why would he even want to know how much and how you were scared?..

"Echo is joking, right?... The forest will soon fall asleep... Dangerous" Anaya asks, trying his best to smile.

"There will be long days... many more" Soona reaches her hand through the stakes towards you, you clasp your hands together.  "Now Echo needs to... go home and..."

"Leave me alone!..." Your voice breaks and you shake your head in convulsions. "I just want to wash my old things..."

"You'll get lost if you go... alone..." Noa says more firmly, but there's no anger in his voice, but pity for you. You stubbornly dodge his gaze, and only by the grace of fate you don't bump your head into the claws of a bird's paws. "Come back before... darkness, echo"

In the settlement where you hid from waking nightmares, they would have dragged you by the ankles, spitting on your worthless objections... Noa looks at you, slumped on the ground and almost incorporeal from the incessant lamentations that you won't tell anyone about — and leaves.

As you asked. No, no, no!..

Why does Noa treat you as if you mean something in this vast world?

You blink away the panic that has overcome you. Breathe in-breathe out-breathe in. Feathers float in the air, dancing with the wind. You can even see the specks of dust. Everything that is real right now — and not crawl to you from nightmares.

Wiping your lips and shaking off the dust, you leave the bird pen. You look at the birds again, and head towards the lake along the path strewn with fragrant flowers.

The journey takes you very little time — and the evening does not even have time to turn into twilight, while you bend over the wild petals to inhale their scent. Touches of spring are felt here and there, in their purest beauty comparable only to poetry. Pulling the shirt off your hips, you begin to untie the knot of sky-blue fabric tied at your waist.

The healers may have washed you, healing your wounds — but you need to wash yourself differently after what you ran away from.

You need to wash yourself to the very core, to banish these terrible thoughts.

Taking off robe, which were left on the sandy slope, you go into the lake. You hide among the tall rustling grass and cattails up to your neck, frozen in bliss. The water lulls your cuts, bruises and sorrows. Dragonflies are circling by the water again, little unreasonable tadpoles are swimming in the water... You can hear breathing behind the trees, just a few meters away from you. It seems to you that the lake is turning into an ocean — and you are drowning in its bottomless depths.

Someone is watching you. Watching the splash of water enveloping your naked body.

Hiding behind the stones scattered near the shore, you look around — and shiver from the thickening cold and darkness.

[paleparearchive]

Bazille Is A Worrier?

Bazille's initial 2★ story (1/1)

Location: garden (morning) ; morning sky ; Renoir, Monet, Sisley & Bazille's room | Characters: Bazille, Monet

Bazille: For God's sake… He's not even here, huh?

Monet said he was going to take care of the garden, but where did he go? Jeez… He didn't even go back for lunch, so I came to see how engrossed he was. I don't think so, but he didn't forget to hydrate himself and collapse somewhere, did he?

Monet's voice: WOAAAAH! What a spectacular view! It's so niceee!!!

Bazille: … This voice, is it Monet? God, where is he?

H-Hey! What the hell are you doing on the roof!?

Monet: Oooh! If it ain't Bazille! The view from here's awesome! Ya should climb up here too! Just put your feet up on the fence there and you'll get a good show!

Bazille: Who would climb that! It can't be that easy. No, I'm not a monkey. Generally speaking, gazebo roofs are not made for people to climb up. Get off before you fall!

Monet: Now now, don't say that. It's breezy and awesome!

Bazille: Listen up. Why are you even there in the first place? It's not safe!

—

Monet: Well, the flowers in the garden have started bloomin' and they look great! I just thought it'd look even more beautiful from up here!

Bazille: That's why you climbed up on the roof. … You really are a simple-minded guy.

Monet: Huuuh, why? When something's beautiful, ya just wanna see it from a better angle, dontcha think!?

Bazille: Well, I can understand that mindset... We're artists who pursue beauty after all. But I guess it's part of human nature to use reason in face of danger…

Monet: Noo way! Sometimes a painter's passion for beautiful things can get out of control!

Bazille: Jesus Christ. Don't be a sophist and get the heck off there! What if you fall and break a bone in your hand! You might never be able to paint the pictures you love again.

Monet: D-Don't scare me like that!

Bazille: It's not just a threat. It's a prediction of the worst possible future that could happen as a result of your shallow actions.

Monet: Uuuuugh… Gotcha, I'll just get off. Jeez, ya worry too much, Bazille.

Woah!?

Bazille: MONET!!!

—

Bazille: Hey, are you okay!? Stay strong!!!

Monet: Owowowow… Aaaah, I feeeeell…

Bazille: You're still alive, right!? Are you injured? Where does it hurt!?

Monet: Aaaaah… I'm okay, I'm okay… aaah, it hurts!!!

Bazille: You're not okay at all! Let me take a look at it. Where is it? You don't think it's your arm, do you!?

Monet: No, my leg…

Bazille: Your leg... It doesn't seem to be broken. Let's go back to our room and patch it up. Can you walk?

Monet: Y-Yeah. Thanks, Bazille.

Bazille: … Whatever.

Aaah, alright! I'll lend you a shoulder, don't try to force yourself to walk! You'll only make it worse!

—

Bazille: I can't believe you fell off the roof and only sprained your ankle. You're very sturdy.

Monet: I am! I'm workin' out like Manet-aniki! It's good muscle trainin', wanna do it too, Bazille?

Bazille: I won't do it. Mostly because I don't even want to climb up there.

Monet: It's good to change your perspective once in a while.

Bazille: Just be glad it wasn't your arm that got injured.

Monet: Uuugh… Okay. I'll be careful.

Bazille: Right. From now on, no more climbing up high places. And of course, no tree climbing as well.

Monet: Huuuh!?

Bazille: Don't go out too much for a while. If you walk around with poor protection, you'll lose your physical balance and it will affect your brush strokes. Oh yeah, muscle training is also prohibited.

Monet: W-Why!?

Bazille: You're the kind of guy who, if he moves his body even a little bit, is definitely going to want to move around more. At least stay put until you get better.

Monet: But I'm fine…! I'm not that dumb…

Bazille: If you don't understand it, I'll make a picture of you in your stupid bandages and hang it all over our room, okay?

Stay put. Got it?

Monet: O-Okaaay…

[red-hibiscus]

My experience getting testosterone pellets for those interested

This was my 2nd time, but my first time was a year ago so I don't remember that clearly.

They insert the pellets around the same area you'd inject testosterone (upper/outer corner of your ass cheek). I don't know what the average amount of pellets is, but my doc always does 10 pellets. I've seen them. They're pretty small. They put some local anesthesia first. That hurt way more than expected and it was a long injection. My doctor took his time and it was not fun. After that it gets numb really quick. You just feel pressure and the occasional pinch. They tape down some medical paper or whatever around the site to keep things safe and sterile.

Most of the time I was scrolling through instagram and tumblr as I laid on my side. I was as chill as it could be. I occasionally chatted with the doc and the nurse. I fainted this time (didn't the first) because I felt a bit more than I wanted to. Not super painful, but more than I wanted to feel. I do have a bit of a history of fainting for various non-dangerous reasons in all kinds of situations so I suspect I'm more susceptible than most. It was fine though. They were almost done and once they gave me water and made sure I was ok they inserted the final two pellets. I don't think this is too much of a concern. Probably about as common as people fainting when they get blood drawn.

Once everything was done they bandaged me up (no stiches, just bandages), had me laying there to recover for a bit. From fainting, not for the procedure. After like 3 minutes I got up and made my appointment for the blood tests in 2 months. The next time I would need to get the following round of pellets would depend on how my hormones are doing then. Usually it's every 3-6 months.

I would say I was in and out of the office in about 30 minutes. It was relatively quick.

Recovery:

The larger bandage stays on for a few days (didn't specify but I'm going for around 3-4). Has to stay dry for at least the rest of surgery day. The steri-strips stay on until they fall off naturally.

I would say it's a bit more painful than those vaccines that give you a major sore arm so whenever you move you feel it. Mostly dull pain with the occasional sharp pain, but nothing I would desperately need pain meds for. It's manageable and could be ignored with the proper distraction. It's annoying though due to it's placement. Sitting and laying down is obviously weird. But walking sometimes is annoying. Very uncomfortable.

In conclusion:

It's a bitch to get done bc most doctors don't offer it and insurance takes a while to approve. The surgery itself is pretty simple and quick. Don't let my fainting scare you off. I almost fell asleep the first time, and even this time was actually pretty chill. I'm just a wimp. The worst is the anesthesia injection. The recovery is fast, but annoying. You forget about it after a week from what I remember. It's satisfying to not have to worry about gel or injections for months.

[picturetoburnnn]

Iubirea mea | Bucky Barnes x reader

word count - 5.1k

warnings - angst, fluff, depictions of blood and scars, violence, swearing

summary - enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, all of this applies.

a/n - I wrote this for @wkemeup's 9k challenge, with the prompt: "Character A cleans Character B’s wounds after a rough mission. [A]’s fingers linger over scarred muscle as they finish wrapping the bandage." I'm super excited about this one, it's only my second Bucky fic pls be nice <3

Being the hero sometimes fucking sucked. But having a teammate who used to want you dead? That sucked even more.

Y/N could not stand Bucky Barnes. She tried her best to be welcoming to him when he joined as a rehabilitated, free man. She was willing to forget all the times he had been sent by HYDRA to assassinate her or her assignments. But her attempts at kindness were met with a sneer and cold shoulder. Eventually, she stopped trying. Every snarky comment that came her way, she had a witty comeback prepped and ready to go.

The rest of the team found it a little funny, but mostly aggravating.

“Can you two please just get along for this mission? You can go back to hating each other when we’re back at the tower.” Steve was visibly annoyed by the back and forth bickering. With the team all suited up and on the way to some far-off fight in the Quinjet, Y/N and Bucky were seated across from each other, verbally fighting like children.

“I’ll behave if he does,” Y/N said with a pointed stare at the former Winter Soldier.

“Just do your job, Y/N,” Bucky sneered. “I’m not dying for you.”

“Well me neither, Aluminum Foil,” she quipped. “I wouldn’t get a papercut for you.”

“Enough,” Tony groaned from the pilot seat of the jet. “We get it. You hate each other. Just remember your missions and don’t get anyone else here dead in the process.”

Y/N groaned, looking over at Natasha. “You see what I have to put up with?” she whined dramatically. Natasha just shook her head, not even bothering to hide her smile.

“Remember the goal.” Steve said, putting on what everyone else playfully deemed his ‘Captain Voice.’ “In and out. Get Nat to the main computer, extract intel, and out. No theatrics, no explosions.” He aimed that last part at Y/N with a sharp look, not forgetting her love for a good boom. After her exaggerated sigh of disappointment, he continued, “If all goes according to plan, they won’t know we’re there until we’ve already left.”

~~

“Yeah, that didn’t work out.” Y/N hissed as she favored her left leg. Supported by a disgruntled Bucky and worrisome Steve, she limped her way back up the ramp.

“I told you no explosions,” Steve reprimanded. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had listened to me.”

Y/N groaned as she sat down. “I wouldn’t have resorted to explosions if this ‘skeleton crew’ base hadn’t turned out to be fully armed and operational. You can’t really blame me.” She grinned as she spoke, despite the piece of metal shrapnel poking its way out of her thigh.

No one mentioned the fact that she had put herself in front of the explosion to push Bucky out of harm’s way.

“You’re benched.” Steve scolded, shaking his head at her antics. Even wounded, she managed to make jokes.

“Seems fair,” she groaned, grin falling from her face as she moved her leg just the wrong way to jostle the offending material. Beside her, Bucky winced at the sound of pain she let out.

“Only a dumbass like yourself would have managed to blow yourself up,” he mumbled as the pair of super-soldiers maneuvered to seat her on the jet. “You’re incredibly lucky this didn’t hit an artery.”

“Tin Man,” she crowed, “is that a hint of disappointment I hear? You wouldn’t want me bleeding out, now would you?”

“No,” he begrudgingly replied. “Not here, iubirea mea, where I’d have to clean up the mess. Would rather you died somewhere out there.” He vaguely gestured to the building that was now on fire, visible from the loading ramp.

“‘Iubirea mea,’ what is that, Russian for idiot?” Y/N hissed through gritted teeth.

“Romanian, actually.”

“The rest of the team is on their way out,” Steve interrupted with a sigh, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Despite someone’s best efforts, we did still get the intel we needed.”

You grinned as Bucky rolled his eyes.

~~

Two months later, when Y/N had finally been cleared by Dr. Cho, she was ready to train again. Eight weeks of bed rest and physical therapy hadn’t exactly been kind to her, and she could feel her muscles burn and ache with lack of use.

“Stark,” she called one day, limping into the kitchen. “Have you seen Sam or Steve? I wanna get back in the sparring ring.”

“Y/N,” the billionaire chided as he poured his coffee, “Sam and Steve won’t even think about going in the ring with you.” Y/N started to protest, but Tony quickly cut her off before she could even say anything. “You’re limping right now, I doubt anyone here, except maybe Barnes would go against you in the ring.”

At her devious smile, Tony knew he fucked up. “Y/N, Jesus, no, do not ask the Manchurian Candidate to fight you.” His words came too late. As if summoned, the former assassin came bounding around the corner, a grin on his face.

“Did someone say I get to fight Y/N again?”

In the ring, Bucky tapped his fists together, ready for a brawl.

“Don’t take it easy on me, chump,” Y/N taunted as she readied herself. “Give me everything you got--”

Before Y/N could even finish her sentence, her feet were swiped out from under her. She tumbled to the mat, finding her breath knocked out of her and a certain super soldier hovering inches from her face. “Were you not done yet, doll?" Bucky himself seemed surprised at the endearment that so easily fell from his lips, though he made no effort to take it back.

“Don’t know,” Y/N rasped. “Seems like you were done listening.” She coughed, trying to force air back into her lungs.

Bucky winced at the sound of her struggles. “Here,” he grunted, moving his body weight off her and offering his arm. “Let’s get you sitting upright.” Y/N eyed his right arm dubiously as he waited.

“If I were going to trick you,” Bucky began, “I’d offer you the metal one. Let me help you up before you asphyxiate, iubirea mea.”

“Didn’t know--” a cough-- “That you cared if I lived or died.” She took his hand.

“I care.” He hauled her to her feet. “If you die, I lose my favorite person to bully.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she twisted open her water bottle. “Good to know I’m your human punching bag.”

Bucky gave her that rare grin that made ladies in the ‘40’s swoon. “Well, not a punching bag. Punching bags don’t usually fight back.”

“Oh yeah?” she quipped. “What would you call me instead?”

“Oh, I just wouldn’t call you.”

“Asshole.” She laughed. “Are you ever going to tell me what that insult means?”

She missed the longing look he threw her way as soon as she turned around. “Never.”

~~

“Someone get Dr. Cho!” Steve’s panicked voice rang out through the tower as he wheeled a half-conscious Bucky Barnes through the halls from the hangar. Y/N ran by his side, desperately trying to keep pressure on the wound in Bucky’s chest. There was too much blood. A normal man would be dead long ago, and he was still fucking bleeding. When the unlucky trio pulled into medical, the barren rooms reflected their desperation.

“Steve,” she pleaded, “just go find her, I’ll keep him alive until you do.”

The captain looked hesitantly between his friend and the woman who seemingly no longer hated him. In a moment of trust, he nodded and ran, leaving his best friend’s life momentarily in her hands

“You can’t die on me, asshole,” Y/N whispered, leaning down over his pained form. “Still need someone to pick on, and Sam’s too sensitive for our jokes.”

“You’ll be fine,” he grunted, eyes slipping closed. “Sam likes your jokes.”

A sharp pain across his cheek made his eyes snap open. “Did you just fucking slap a dying man?”

“You’re not dying on me.” It came out like a demand, a commandment. “Do you hear me? You will not die on me because I will resurrect your pale ass and kick the shit out of you. And you hate me, can you imagine having your dead ass being beat by someone you hate?”

“I don’t hate you, iubirea mea.” He groaned as his hand reflexively went to cup the gunshot wound that he couldn’t block in time. His hand covered hers before his eyes closed again.

“Buck?”

No response.

Y/N’s hands went up to cup his face. “Bucky? Answer me, chump. Bucky? Buck, you cannot fucking die on me like this, Bucky!”

She was in near hysterics when Steve returned with the doctor in tow. It took all of his strength to drag Y/N, kicking and screaming, away from the former assassin. Even after he was taken to the operating room, the woman still called out his name until Steve pulled her into a tight embrace, running a hand through her hair and resting her head on his shoulder. “He took that bullet for me, Steve. I wasn’t looking and he covered my back at the last second. He’s in there because of me,” she whispered in horror. “I did this, oh my god, Steve, he’s gonna die because of me.”

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered.

Steve still wasn’t entirely sure if the words were for him or her. He led her crying form to the seats across the room, where Wanda joined, then Natasha, then Bruce and Thor, and so on until the whole team sat in the waiting room, fearing the emergence of any kind of news.

Hours later, Helen Cho finally emerged, a saddened look on her face. Y/N stood from her seat in the lobby.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor lamented. “The damage done was too severe, we didn’t have enough time.”

Y/N sobbed, breaking down. How was she supposed to handle this? That was her argument buddy, her fighting partner. She never told him how she felt, that she actually liked being around him and was proud to be his almost friend. She never got to tell him how proud she was of his progress, how she was happy for him, and how he moved on, despite their playful jests. She never got to tell him she knew he didn’t hate her anymore. She never got to say--

“Y/N, wake up.” Steve shook her shoulder, and her head lifted from his lap. “Cho’s coming.”

The avenger bolted upward, ignoring the concerned, pitying looks from her teammates. She knew without looking she must have spoken in her sleep, giving voice to her nightmares.

The doctor came in, a smile on her face. “He’s stable. Not saying it won’t be rough for him for a little while, but he’s on track for recovery. If you guys want, he can take visitors as soon as he wakes up.”

A sigh of relief carried through the room, a collective solace in knowing that the White Wolf would live another day.

~~

It was a week later, and Y/N was briskly walking to her room, perfectly intending to spend the rest of her night off watching Netflix, when she heard a hiss of pain through the cracked door of the room adjacent to hers. She slowed her pace, creeping closer to the slightly open threshold to see a clearly uncomfortable, not to mention shirtless, Bucky Barnes attempting to wrap his own wounds in the mirror. Y/N shook her head, knocking the door open to make her presence known, and leaned against the doorway.

He turned to find Y/N watching him with a smirk. “Need help?”

The injured soldier scoffed, turning away. “I’ve got this.”

Contrary to what he said, he absolutely did not have this. The moment the words left his lips, his body twinged painfully, leaving him hissing in discomfort as he dropped the bandage wrapping he was trying to unroll.

Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing off the wall and entering the room. “Just let me help, Metalhead.”

Bucky grumbled something about I’ve been patching myself up for seventy years, dunno why I can’t just take care of it myself, but nevertheless sat down on the bed and handed her the supplies.

Y/N carefully replaced the gauze against his bare chest, fingers lingering a second too long over an old, healed scar above his heart.

“What’s this scar? From when you had your heart removed to be so cold-blooded?” Both of them knew her words held no actual heat or point, only serving to cut the awkward tension between the two.

He let out a half-chuckle. “No, that one was actually when me n’ Steve were younger, dude in a bar threw a glass at me. Thing shattered, part of it stayed sticking in me.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in consideration as she reached for the wrapping. “Dude had the right idea. He tried to get rid of you early so I wouldn’t have to deal with you nowadays.”

“Oh yeah? What’s this one, then?” Bucky pointed to a large circular scar on her right knee.

Y/N took a moment to look down, remembering when it happened. “Went rock climbing when I was little. Got a little too excited and tripped when we got to the top, skinned my knee really badly, and the marks never really went away. How about this one, Cyborg?” She gestured to a thin line on the back of his ear as she secured the wrapping, reaching for the final pins to keep the bandage in place.

“Training, when I was…” he trailed off, not wanting to talk about that yet. A quick moment of silence, then, “Who did this to you?” He whispered, pointing to a long striping scar across her abdomen, what almost looked like a surgical scar. It was only visible because of her loosely cropped shirt.

Y/N laughed dryly as she finished securing the wrap and took a step back. “You may not remember this,” she giggled quietly, “but you actually gave me that one. The first time we met, in Chechnya, and you tried to kill the guy under my protection.”

“I remember that.” He gently reached out and ever so softly traced the thin line with his fingertips, watching as goosebumps rose in his wake. Bucky looked up at her. “The senator’s kid.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, the kid couldn’t stop screaming, even though I was the one fighting you.”

“You gave me this one in return.” Bucky lifted his arm to reveal a nasty-looking circular mark on his inner right arm. “Stupid taser batons.”

“Hey,” she defended. “Those taser batons let me disable you, Bionica, and because of that we both lived to fight another day.”

He playfully groaned. “I could have lived without that happening.”

“Hey!” she lightly tossed the remaining roll of bandages at his head, though he made no move to dodge it.

“Next time we met, you gave me this.” He pointed vaguely to a small nick on his side, barely even noticeable.

“That should totally not count,” she giggled, pulling up her shirt to reveal a gunshot wound just below her ribs. “This happened at that same hotel, thanks to you. You must be a shitty assassin if I managed to scar you literally every time we met. And this one,” she pulled her hair aside to display another knife-shaped mark on her neck. “This one is … um…”

“I remember.”

“That one hurt like a bitch,” she breathed, remembering its arrival on her body.

“Oh, you think that one hurt?” He questioned. He stood, only to pull the waistband of his pants down ever so slightly to reveal a thin but deep-looking mark on his hip. “Do you remember this one?”

Without thinking, without even giving herself a chance to think, Y/N reached forward and touched the jagged edges of yet another scar that she herself had given him.

“What about this one?” She pulled the edge of her shorts up enough to reveal the reminder of the day her mission went wrong, and she’d ended up with metal ripping its way through her skin.

“I remember that,” Bucky sighed.

“Yeah? It wasn’t that long ago,” she joked, trying to lighten the serious undertones that had suddenly fallen over the room.

“You got this because you pushed me out of the way,” he reminisced. “This was the day I realized…” he trailed off.

“Say it,” she whispered.

“That’s the day I realized I loved you.”

She inhaled sharply. Having a feeling he felt something and him actually admitting it were two very different things, she realized.

“This,” she murmured, gently placing a hand over his bandaged wound, looking up at him. “This is when I knew you loved me back.”

Bucky made no attempt to hide his glance down at her lips, and she made no move to avoid it when his hands gently cradled the back of her head, and his forehead touched hers as they stood in the middle of his room. “Tell me to stop,” he breathed.

“I don’t want to.”

No other words had to be spoken when his lips met hers.

It was slow but fast all at once, like time had slowed, turning moments into centuries and seconds at the same time. Every move of her lips against his felt like the heaven he had never known, the paradise he’d deprived himself of for far too long. Her hands crept up to his hair, holding him in place, as if he’d ever want to leave, ever want to move from this exact spot, here with her. He tugged her closer, because her lips against his weren’t quite close enough.

Until a sharp pain in his chest made him pull away, pushing a hand against his chest as he groaned.

“Heart rush, old man? Wanna admit how much you like me?” Y/N teased, dropping her hands out of his hair to drape over his shoulders.

“Not until you do,” he countered, meeting her eyes challengingly.

She grinned. “I love you.” It was the easiest thing she ever had said, as natural to her as her own name.

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” Each proclamation was punctuated with a kiss on each cheek, forehead, and nose until he found her lips again with his final announcement. “I will always love you.”

His mouth found hers again as his hands found her waist, and it was like coming home.

Until Steve walked in. “Hey Buck, what do you think about-- Oh my god.” The pair jumped apart, standing awkwardly and avoiding eye contact.

Bucky quickly wiped his mouth before looking over at his oldest friend. “What’s up Steve?”

“I just… It can wait.”

“Steve,” Y/N laughed, “come in here and talk to your friend. He knows where to find me if he wants to finish our conversation.”

Bucky grumbled as he watched her leave, meanwhile Steve tried to avoid watching her at any cost. He stared directly at the floor as she passed, pointedly ignoring her uncontrollable giggles.

As soon as the door shut, Steve looked up at his friend. “Okay forget whatever it was I came in here for, tell me what the hell just happened.”

~~

Bullets rained down everywhere around them. Taking cover wherever they could find, Y/N and Bucky were officially in trouble. Y/N had run out of bullets a while ago, and her signature throwing knives had all been used a while ago. The well-loved taser batons were snapped in half by a super-human opponent that had required both of them to take down. And Bucky was on his last clip.

“Doll,” he called, his voice barely audible over the commotion and almost constant gunfire, even through your comms. “Doll, where are you? Talk to me.” The desperation was evident in his voice.

“Taking cover,” Y/N groaned, moving her injured left arm closer to her body. “Things aren’t looking good.” She took a peek over the edge of the crumbling wall she’d thrown herself behind. The rubble of the abandoned town still shook every few seconds from the intensity of Stark’s energy blasts, or from the Hulk’s footsteps as he attempted to smash his way through the enemy’s reformed front lines. Smoke hung in the air like a deadly reminder of what waited for those who didn’t make it out in time. Smoldering ash blended with the snow falling from the sky. If she closed her eyes and tuned out the battle cries, she could pretend she was back at that winter cabin Tony had rented for the couple last month, saying If I have to hear Barnes getting lucky through the walls one more time, I’m giving him back to HYDRA.

“Buck, I’m not sure about this one.”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart,” the soldier crooned as he rounded the corner, joining Y/N in her hiding spot. “We’ll be fine, we’ve survived worse.”

“Fall back!” Came the Captain’s voice through the comms. “There’s too many right now, we have to regroup and try again. Meet back at the rendezvous point.”

Y/N and Bucky met each other’s panicked eyes. They were far behind enemy lines. They had no chance of getting out, and it was too far back to risk one of their teammates coming to get them.

“Steve, that's not an option,” Y/N noted. “Tin Man and I are too far behind the line. We’ll meet you when we can.”

No response. “Steve? Tony? Anyone?” Bucky watched with wide eyes as Y/N touched a finger to her communicator, to no avail. The signal was lost. The pair were stranded back here, surrounded, and Bucky only had three shots left. The last bit of information was kept from Y/N.

“It’s fine, doll.” The century-old man put on a brave face and turned away, not daring to let her see the slight panic he carried. He knew her resolve would break immediately, that she would see straight through the slightest crack in his mask and understand his plan. Worse, she would fight against it. “When you see the opening,” he instructed, “run.”

“Buck?” She called, a sudden urgency in her tone. “Bucky what are you doing?”

“Barnes,” came a broken voice through the comms. “Y/N, Barnes, can you hear me, over?” Steve’s voice came through in spurts, but the message was clear enough. “Where are you?”

“Come get her, Steve.” Bucky’s normally stoic voice held the slightest twinge of unease as he stood, turning his back to Y/N.

“Bucky, Steve doesn’t need to come and get me, let’s get out together like always.” Y/N’s confusion was clear. She pulled herself to her feet as well, reaching a hand out to stop her lover, grabbing him by the arm.

“One minute out.” Steve knew what he had planned.

“I love you, doll,” he suddenly insisted. “You need to know that.”

“What are you doing?” she demanded, panic starting to creep into her voice as he still refused to look over at her. “Bucky please, come on we have to go, we’ll die. Let’s go, what are you doing?”

“I’m being the bait,” he breathed as he slipped his arm out of her comforting hold, “so you can get out of here alive.”

“W-what? Bucky, no! We can figure something out, please.”

“There’s no time,” he soothed, knowing if he turned around, there would be tears in her eyes. He hated that he was the one causing this pain for her, but it was the only way, he told himself. The only way she could make it out of there. Her life was worth fifty of his. If she made it out, then the mission wasn’t a complete and total failure.

She continued crying his name, even as he walked away from her, clearing the way. Even as Steve’s arms wrapped around her middle and hauled her away through the opening the dark-haired soldier had created, she never stopped begging Bucky to look at her, to think about what he was doing. But he knew what he was doing. He was saving her. That’s all he needed to do.

Even as her cries were drowned out by the wind, by the monsters, aliens, and every other damn thing on the battlefield, he kept fighting. Because the longer he fought, the more attention was on him, and less on her and the team as they got out. He was their scapegoat. So as every force against them converged on him, as he was circled by enemy targets, he was okay with it.

When the spear pierced through his chest, he was okay with that, too. As the pain echoed through his body, and blood dribbled from his lips, he was alright. She got out. It was okay, she would be okay. He fought his way to the ground, still using his metal arm and a seemingly endless supply of blades to fight off any creature that came close enough to him. But the aliens recognized a dying threat when they saw it, and stopped advancing on him. As if all at once, he watched his opponents turn away from him, looking for the rest of a fight they wouldn’t find.

The last thing he saw before the black spots invading his vision took over was a flash of red and gold, flying through the sky directly at him.

~~

Y/N held on tightly to Bucky’s hand from the safety of the medbay, eyes stained red. She had long since run out of tears. She could remember the pure panic she felt when Tony brought him in, seeing the spear jutting from his front, inches away from his heart. She was thrown back to that say so many months ago, where she pressed down against a similar injury that led to his confession of something other than hatred. Now here she was again, still holding his hand in the recovery room (although last time she fled just as the machines started registering him regaining consciousness).

A deep and fitful rest found her, plaguing her with nightmares of Bucky never waking up. In her dreams, she touched his face and begged him to come back, to try again with her, to just do anything, and his response was the same: a solid, monotone beep and flatline on the heart rate monitor.

On the tenth day of sleeping in an uncomfortable chair in the hospital room, she was awoken by a hand running through her hair.

“Y/N, wake up, love.” His gentle voice eased her out of her sleep.

This was one of the few dreams she looked forward to having. In it, her Bucky was alive. He held her hand as they danced through the living room of some far-off future home. Music played, smiles were shared, and she could almost pretend it was real if she couldn’t feel herself beginning to be dragged back to reality. “Bucky,” she called as her hand slipped from his grasp. Too far. He was too far away, and no matter how hard she tried to run to him, she seemed frozen in place. Calling his name continuously, her mind finally freed her from its unconscious grasp.

“Buck,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes. Then she froze, remembering her surroundings. “Bucky?”

“I’m here, iubirea mea, I’m here.” He smiled at her, just happy to see her face alive and well. His vocal cords hurt from lack of use, and a part of him wondered how long he must have been out.

She breathed his name in disbelief one last time before throwing her arms around his neck, holding him tight. She’d almost lost him twice now, her lifeline, her crutch. Once her opponent on every meaning of the word, now the absolute most important person in the world to her.

“You… you are not allowed to die,” she sniffled, face tucked into the crook of his neck while his right hand crept along her back, keeping her close. “It almost killed me.”

“Doll,” he breathed, ignoring the pain in his middle. “I’m alright. A little worse for wear, but--”

“A little?” She pulled just far enough back to stare him straight in the eyes, astonishment clear. “Bucky, you were run through with a spear. You’ve been out for a week and a half, your left arm was almost completely shattered, you cracked three and broke two ribs, and your concussion was so severe they weren’t sure if you’d wake up. That’s pretty severe to me, James.”

He internally winced when she called him James. Y/N only pulled that name when she was fucking pissed.

“But it could have been worse, doll. It’s a good day for me; you’re here, and that’s all I need.”

She didn’t fight him as he guided her lips back to his, though she had half a mind to stop him to scold his behavior more.

“I’d do it again,” he whispered between kisses. “If it meant you lived.”

“Baby,” Y/N breathed as he moved to her neck. “You dying would destroy me.”

“But you’d be alive.”

She grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him back to eye level. “Not without you, I wouldn’t be.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for understanding and finding nothing but devotion and sincerity in her wake. James Buchanan Barnes would follow her to the earth's ends and give her the moon and stars if she only asked. She had him, body and soul, wrapped around her finger, and he wasn’t sure if she knew the extent of that dedication. Giving himself up as bait was as easy as second nature for him when it was her life on the line.

“Iubirea mea, I’m here, it’s alright.” He gently reached out, placing a hand on her cheek and wiping a tear she didn’t even know had fallen.

“What does that even mean?” Her voice cracked as she half giggled the question, voice barely higher than a whisper. “You’ve called me that since I blew myself up, and have never told me. I thought it was an insult.”

“No, not an insult,” he chuckled. “It’s Romanian, one of my favorite phrases.”

She prompted him to continue with a soft tilt of her head.

“It means ‘my love.’ I’ve loved you since that day and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“Good.” Y/N smiled, and pulled his lips closer to hers again, hovering centimeters away. “Because I’ll never stop loving you either.”

Masterlist Found Here

[rainpudding]

can i req c, f, o, and w from the angst alphabet with diluc please <3

note; i have so much requests! Ty and i'm sorry for keeping you waiting for so long >3

tw; bruises,injury and light violence mentioned

ANGST ALPHABET |DILUC

flustrated mistakes catcall offended injury

Catcall (you’re catcalled and he’s with you)

Diluc is well known in Mondstat. He is a rich good-looking man with a mansion. A lot of people have respect for him so the same goes for you. Few jealous boys/girls give him flowers while they glare at you but Diluc pushes them away. There is no way anyone would catcall you as they know your boyfriend is famous and has a vision.

Yet let's imagine that you're walking by the city of Mondstat as unknown foreigner catcalls you.

This would go two ways

1; Diluc rolls his eyes annoyingly as he harshly takes your wrist fastening the pace. You're trying to keep up with him telling him It's okay as you could handle it by yourself. Diluc is still annoyed as he is pulling you away from him. He later apologizes as he feels extremely awkward for getting so overprotective.

2; he would grab your wrist trying to take you away yet the person is still yelling inappropriate words at you. And at that time Diluc loses it grabbing that person by their chin harshly. His glowed hands squeezing their chin. Diluc is dangerously close to his face whispering few threatening words before finally letting go. The person falls to the floor looking down and holding their bruised chin. Diluc just mutters "disgusting" as he takes his gloves off throwing them into a bin. His aura is dark and his face is such a disgust. You're even scared to touch him as this was scary.

So when he turns around to meet your eyes he softens takings your soft hands and kissing them. He apologizes for taking you for lunch while rose color dusting his cheeks.

After dinner, he takes you home calling Kaeya to take care of that weird person.

Offended (you offend them without knowing it)

Diluc is an amazing lover! He gives you flowers, gives you back massage whenever he can. He will hug you from behind nuzzling his head onto the back of your neck. And he won't forget to ask Adeline about your health. He cares about you so much. He truly does.

But there is this pinch of weird feeling inside of you. The weird uncomfortableness inside your chest. It's growing like poison. Somehow you felt like Diluc stopped loving you.

And as the time went you felt like all his touches and kind words were cold. You somehow felt like his feelings towards you were forced, and you started to notice the little things you didn't before.

That when you gave him something you would find it in the back of the corner the next day. That when you hugged him his eyes were without sparkle. They were dull and dark.

When you finally found the courage to talk to him about this it turned into a heated fight. You felt like you were some kind of toy so he could forget about his father. So when you mentioned his father something snapped in him.

The maids were hiding in the halls, not making noise as they were scared of being yelled at. Diluc suddenly stood from his chair slamming his fists into the wooden table in front of him. The slam made you jump back with a terrified face. You never saw him so angry.

Your chest heavy as your hands shaking, tears falling down your cheeks. It was all too much. Diluc suddenly realized that the slam was a little too much violence as he quickly stood up hugging your form. You tried to push him away but he hugged you tightly.

He didn't want to lose you. You were something that was supposed to help him forget his past, something he could use to discard the dark memories. Instead, you become something more. Something he doesn't want to lose.

He was kissing you and stroking your cheeks as four hours you both sat on the floor in each other embrace.

Frustrated (how do they act in a fight?)

Diluc is very collected and mostly calm. He will sit in his chair peacefully listening to you as he nods his head. He is mostly silent saying short answers.

If he is annoyed he would sit with crossed arms muttering under his breath as he finds the conversation worthless. Maybe answering by some bittersweet words but never taking it that far that it would result in yelling.

Unless you're mentioning Kaeya or his father. He would completely lose it as his mind is filled with memories. As his heart is loudly pounding and his chest is hot. He feels like He's unable to breathe. And he starts yelling because he can't control himself.

Mistakes (make up after a fight)

You and Diluc don't fight very often. As I said before he is calm and collected as if you're trying to yell or make the fight heated it will just not work. You will feel slightly embarrassed as he is watching you with his dull eyes.

There is not even anything to fight about. If He can't spend time with you he will call Adeline to take care of you or he will make a private date at his mansion. If you're jealous he will ignore that person and will be fully focused on you.

So as he is sitting down listening to you you soonly give up sitting next to him sighing. He will kiss your forehead hugging you. He will give you some ideas on how to solve the problem together. If he made mistake he will write it in his journal so he won't do it again.

The heated fights could be a bigger problem. He would avoid you for few days (if not a month) trying to cool down. And when he feels lonely again he would probably apologize.

Injury (how do they react when you’re hurt?)

You knocked on the door of the tavern immediately walking in. Keeping pressure on the wound on your shoulders making a blood trail behind you. Your clothes soaked by the dark red liquid, some of it ripped showing skin full of fresh cuts. You feel so dizzy as your losing a lot of blood.

“Hey Y/n-d-da-dandelion wine,” Venti hiccups holding a bottle of the dandelion vine until he notices your current state. He stands up trying to keep his balance as he walks to the stairs calling the redhead.

He suddenly falls onto the stairs as he keeps on muttering. Diluc walks down the stairs taking the bottle from Venti until he stops in his tracks looking at you. You're sitting down taking a glass of alcohol.  Diluc is horrified.

You three are the only ones at the tavern and the atmosphere is heavy. The silence almost suffocating.

When you're hurt Diluc becomes overly obsessive and possessive.

He feels guilt for not saving his father. Even if you have one single small cut he will get angry quickly patching it up.

At the moment Diluc immediately comes to you shaking your shoulders as you turn to him giggling, He puts the alcohol away searching for the aid kit and patching you up. You're trying to push him away or stop him but he cant stop. Not until you're all bandaged up. He cant risk. He can't lose you.

“Diluc I'm fine, this happens every time,��” you smile reassuring him as he scrunches his eyebrows. “No Y/n. It's not okay, if this will continue you will have to stop or I will accompany you. please don't go on dangerous missions.”

You nod squeezing his hands.

Masterlist

[peachy-rambles]

Peachy xir,,, can we please get some fluff?? As a treat?? We need the serotonin. the happy brain juice if u will.

Fluff as per requested! I hope you like Michael because I was in the mood to write him UwU

---

Michael loved his grandparents!

(Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should call them his Elders, to show them respect. But he liked grandparents better!)

Grandpa Phil and Grandpa Techno were the best!

They visited him a lot when his dads were busy, so Michael wasn't always alone. Usually when they visited, they brought him lots of gifts and Michael's dads even let him go outside with his grandparents sometimes! He always had lots of fun with them and he loved them so much.

Michael was still learning Common and mostly knew Piglin, so sometimes it was hard to talk to other people, including his dads. But Grandpa Phil and Techno both knew Piglin! Phil couldn't speak it ("He has the wrong vocal chords," Grandpa Techno had told Michael), but he understood it and would listen to Michael babble in Piglin. He'd nod along and talk with him in Common. But Grandpa Techno knew Piglin AND could speak it! It was so easy to talk to Grandpa Techno and Michael loved hearing Techno tell him stories in Piglin.

Both his grandparents had lots of great stories! Sometimes they told him about an ancient Empire they once ruled together, sometimes they told him about adventures they had before their Empire or sometimes adventures they had by themselves. (He didn't like those stories as much. He liked it better when they told him stories when they were with each other.)

Michael learned that Grandpa Phil was really good at making clothes. He usually had some new clothes for Michael when he visited and had even made a little red cloak for him that looked just like Grandpa Techno's! The gold eyepatch Michael wore outside sometimes to cover his missing eye had been made by Phil too. Michael loved all the clothes Grandpa Phil made him, they were always so warm and comfy, and perfect.

Grandpa Techno always had lots of gold for Michael. The first piece of gold he'd ever given Michael was one of many gold rings Techno used to wear on his fingers. It had been the first time Michael had met him (it hadn't been the first time they met, it was just the first time Michael remembered) and Michael had been sitting in Techno's lap, fascinated by the gold rings Techno wore.

Before Grandpa Techno had left, he'd taken off one of the rings (the one with a small white diamond inlaid in it) and slipped it onto Michael's small wrist.

Michael had been so overjoyed because somehow he knew exactly what Techno's gift meant - that Techno had accepted Michael as his family, that Michael was a part of his Sounder and that Techno was a part of Michael's.

Techno brought Michael lots more gold after that, but the ring was still Michael's favorite and he treasured it.

One time when his grandparents came over, Grandpa Techno was holding a small blanket in his arms and Michael could smell an unfamiliar scent coming off of it.

Techno had kneeled down to show Michael the blanket and in it, a small white face had peered back at Michael.

It was a baby polar bear.

Michael had never seen an animal like it before and was fascinated by the small cub. He spent the day being supervised by his dads and grandparents, playing with the cub and by the end of the day, he'd fallen asleep with it curled up by his side.

He got to keep the polar bear and named it "Mimi".

While Michael loved when his grandparents visited him, and all the gifts they gave him, his favorite thing to do with them was go outside.

His dads didn't trust the outside world, had warned them that it was dangerous and there were scary people who wanted to hurt him. But they knew they couldn't keep Michael inside forever and would sometimes take him out for walks. But they were usually busy most of the time, so sometimes when his grandparents visited, they'd buddle him up in his warm winter clothes and take him outside into Snowchester.

Mimi would always come with them, attached on a lead that Techno or Michael would hold onto. They'd play in the snow, running around and making snowmen. Grandpa Phil even started a snowball fight once when he threw a snowball at Grandpa Techno. Michael had lots of fun that day and laughed as they all threw snowballs at each other.

A few times his grandparents brought him outside of Snowchester, to see the rest of the land.

Michael will never forget the first time they all stepped through a Nether portal and into the Nether.

It was so pretty and amazing, and the place felt strangely familiar to Michael! But they didn't stay there long, walking to another portal to bring them to his grandparents home.

He liked his grandparents home. There were a lot more animals there that Michael got to see and he got to play with all of their dogs. He even got to see some puppies that had just been born and hold one!

His grandparents had lots of cool stuff and so many books inside their house. Michael still couldn't read Common yet, but Grandpa Phil gifted him a few of their books and promised to read them with him back at Michael's house.

(Grandpa Techno had slipped in a book he said was called the Princess Bride and that it was his favorite, but that Michaeal could not tell anyone. Michaeal nodded vigorously and promised, just as long as Techno promised to read it to him.)

His grandparents also showed Michael their weapons and equipment while Michael was at their home. Grandpa Techno even showed Michael all the different types of swords he'd made himself.

"Will you make me a sword when I get older?" Michael asked him.

"No," Grandpa Techno had said and laughed when Michael pouted, "I'll teach you how to make your own sword. Every Piglin gets taught at some point in their lives how to make their own weapons."

Michael did in fact, already have his own gold sword back home, but it was very old and not usable. His dads told him that he had it when they found him, but Michael doesn't remember how he got it or why.

Michael doesn't remember anything before his dads, actually.

His dads told him that he was really sick dead, he'd been a lifeless zombie and just an empty husk when they found him, and was for a long time. But Grandpa Techno gave his dads a special golden apple that made Michael all better. Michael still only had one eye and one ear, but the rest of him was fine. He wasn't sick at all anymore and was really healthy.

He couldn't remember anything from when he was sick or anything before then, but that was ok, it didn't bother him. His dads and grandparents assured him it was fine and he believed them.

He was happy - he had his dads, his chicken and Mimi, he had his Uncle Tommy and Aunt Niki, and he had his grandparents! He was happy with his family - his Sounder - and that's all he cared about.

But he did miss his grandparents because they hadn't visited him in a while. He started to get worried and even Mimi sensed it, getting anxious and pacing around the house most days. His dads didn't tell him anything, not even when he asked where his grandparents were.

But then, one day they showed back up!

They looked...a little different. They were wearing their armor and had their weapons on them, they even had a few bags with them. They took their armor off and put their weapons away when they came inside, and Michael saw that Grandpa Techno had a new scar on his face, with bandages on his arms. When Michael asked if he was ok, Grandpa Techno just shrugged and said he got into a bad fight with a mean "authoritative" Creeper.

Michael spent the day inside with his grandparents. He would've preferred to go outside, but he hadnt seen them in so long that he was happy just to be with them.

Grandpa Phil cooked them dinner while Grandpa Techno let Michael tell him about all the things he'd missed while he was gone. He kept talking even during dinner and didn't touch his food much, too excited to eat. His grandparents didn't seemed to mind and listened to him with a smile on their faces.

After dinner, they all huddled up in Michael's bed, Phil holding Michael and Techno holding both of them as Techno read the Princess Bride to them. They all ended up falling asleep like that and that's how Ranboo and Tubbo found them when they got back home.

"Michael's going to be really happy when he finds out they're going to be living here," Ranboo said, smiling at them.

"I know. That's why I agreed to let them stay here until things die down," Tubbo commented with his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't exactly happy with the situation, but he knew it was the best considering the circumstances. Afterall, why would Sam or Quackity look for their escaped prisoner in Snowchester of all places? Especially since it was known that Techno and Tubbo were enemies.

They weren't, but no one outside of their family needed to know that.

Because they were all a family now - a Sounder, in Piglin terms - and looked out for each other, would protect each other where their past families hadn't. They wouldn't fail like before and would stick together.

(Michael was, in fact, overjoyed when he found out the next morning that his grandparents would be living with him from now on. The adults all smiled at him as he ran around the room in excitement, completely unaware as to the true reasons to this change. He was simply content that he wouldn't be alone in the house anymore and would spend lots more time with some of his favorite people.)

[navegandoaciegas]

Broken Wings {2/2}

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Reader

Summary: You’re a small town girl with big city dreams, set on leaving Knockemstiff and its Sheriff behind for good. Lee Bodecker would do anything to make sure you stay with him.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, non-con, breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, overall dark themes, kind of a slow build up to the nasty.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I’ve had an eventful couple of days. This is part 2, read part 1 here.

The adrenaline that rushed through your veins blocked out the pain in your body and the noises around you. Your breathing came out in short, panicked huffs as you sprinted through the woods, Lee hot on your heels.

You thought back to the past 12 hours, and how they’d changed your life.

Leaving Knockemstiff and boarding a bus for New York, with your big dreams and a small bag. Almost reaching Pennsylvania’s border before your hopes were snatched away. Lee chasing said bus, blasting the sirens of his patrol car and pulling the driver over. The dread that settled in your stomach when you met his enraged stare, your hopes of a better life shattering in a million pieces, the anger and humiliation that had filled you when he’d dragged you, kicking and screaming, out of the bus, under the judgemental or pitying stares of the passengers.

“You can’t run from me, dove.”

His voice echoed in the woods, tantalizing and terrorizing you all the same. You’d managed to bolt away and hide in the woods before he could handcuff you, but you hadn’t made it too far before he’d found you.

In the event that he’d ever caught you, you’d imagined that he’d fall on his knees and beg you to stay. Lee dragging your ass out of the bus like any drunk bastard he’d escorted home after a fight was certainly not the reaction you’d expected.

You pushed the branches out of your face, feeling a new tear in the skin of your cheeks whenever you’d barrel through a bush. You had no idea where you were going, all you knew was that you had to keep running until your feet bled. Hide. Disappear.

Just a couple more miles and you’d find another town, you could catch a bus then, and maybe you’d be safe-

One second you were sprinting through the trees, and the next your foot was caught in an exposed root, and you tumbled down the slope with your arms stretched out to protect your face.

You hissed in pain when you lifted your palms from the ground. Debris stuck to the abrasion, and it burnt and stung when you flexed your hands. You tried standing up, but fell back among the leaves, feeling lightheaded.

You registered some more cuts on your knees, but you couldn’t tell whether it was blood or tears that streamed down your face.

The branches contorted around you, and the shadows they casted danced around the edges of your vision.

New York, new life, new beginning. Your mom’s smile in her Sunday dress when she’d waved you off. The stench of alcohol in Lee’s breath when he’d caught on the bus.

You thought you’d heard a voice call your name in the distance before your vision went dark, and you let the void envelop you.

-

The sky had turned dark when Knockemstiff’s rusty welcome sign came into view, and he hadn’t spoken a word to you since you’d woken up in his car, with his dark leather jacket draped over your shoulders and bandages on your bruised skin.

You’d stopped sobbing, and you’d run out of pleads, apologies, and tears.

For the first time in your life, you were afraid of him.

His car pulled to a stop in a deserted parking lot. He killed off the engine, and clenched his jaw, inhaling a deep breath before he spoke.

“What was goin’ through that dumb head of yours, sweetie? What made you think you could up, and fuckin’ leave me like that?” he bit through gritted teeth, chest heaving. “One of the boys called me this morning, said he heard your mother talk about you to one of her old hags, babblin’ ‘bout leaving for good, New York, a job.”

He let out a bitter laugh, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

“He thought she’d finally done lost her goddamn mind. Ain’t no sheriff’s girl leaving town for good, he said.”

“I’m sorry, Lee, I should've told you, I was selfish-”

“Yes, you fuckin’ were, fuckin’ selfish is what you are.” he screamed, and you jumped in surprise, because he’d never raised his voice at you.

“I’m sorry, I can’t give you what you want. I don’t want that. You know I don’t belong here Lee, just lemme go, forget all about me.” you pleaded once again, voice small and broken.

He stayed silent for a moment after your little rant, before bursting into a fit of laughter. His body shook with the vibration, and he clutched his stomach, as if no joke had ever sounded so fun in his ears.

“Forget about you? Sweetie, you know I can’t do that. I love you too much.”

“If you love me, let me go Lee, I’m begging you. Please.” you sobbed, gripping his hands in yours, hoping your wobbling lips would move him.

He sighed, and enveloped your hands in his warm ones, bringing them to his lips. He left a trail of kisses from the inside of your wrists to your knuckles.

“Come with me, then. Leave this shitty place behind for good, Lee. Ain’t nothing good’s come out of ‘ere anyways.”

You thought you’d seen his resolve break. You thought he’d choose you for once. Choose you over his thirst for power.

“You know I can’t do that,” he snapped, raising his voice again, “I’m so close to gettin’ myself elected, the campaign is going well, I can’t give up now.”

“Can’t or won’t?” you pressed, anger hardening your stare.

He held your gaze for a moment before looking ahead, eyes unreadable for the first time since you’d met him.

“You know I’m selfish too,” he shrugged.

He reached for his belt, and held up the metal handcuffs, wordlessly securing them around your wrists, ignoring your protests.

“Just stay here.” he grumbled before swinging the door open.

The cold, unyielding cuffs dug in your wrists as you attempted to tug them free from the metal hook on the dash where they were attached to.

It was useless, but it made you feel like you were actually trying. You were mad at Lee, of course, at whoever had tipped him off, and at yourself.

Especially at yourself for your wistful thinking, for convincing yourself that Lee would have given up on you as you’d had on him. For not running fast enough, being strategic enough.

You huffed in annoyance when the metal hook refused to give in, and fell back on the headrest with a groan.

Your calves and shins were sore from your crazy sprint in the woods, and the palms of your hands were scraped from your fall. Lee had cleaned the cuts, but they still stung when you’d inadvertently brush them against each other.

You were mostly unscathed, except for your wounded pride.

You wished your glare could incinerate Lee on the spot when he opened the door to the driver’s seat with a smirk on his lips. The car creaked and swayed when he sat down.

“Fries and vanilla shakes, your favorite.” he announced, opening up the brown paper bag on his lap.

“I’m not hungry.” you mumbled, turning your head to observe the diner’s feeble neon lights in the distance.

Your stomach chose that moment to betray you, and let out a growl when the waft of fried food reached your nose. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and you were starving.

“Your tummy seems to think otherwise, dove.”

You used to think that his cocky loopsided grin gave a youthful glow to his face, but now you couldn’t help but hate the satisfaction it oozed.

“Open up.” he chirped, a handful of fries in his hands.

You rolled your eyes, sighing to yourself. “You’re not actually going to do that, are ya? Just uncuff me, Lee.

“I won’t uncuff you until I’m sure I can trust that you won’t run off on me, dove. Might take a while, tho. Now open up.”

You parted your lips, deciding that this one wouldn’t be the hill you’d choose to die on. Glaring at him, you took a bite out of the fries. He hissed when your teeth snapped hard against his fingers, but let out a chuckle seeing you in the state you were in, amused by your pathetic struggle.

“Good girl.” he praised you, feeding you some more like you used to do on those long nights patrolling the streets. Back when feeding each other was an act of love, not a humiliating punishment.

“So how was your little trip in Ohio, sweetie? Enjoyed the fields?”

He hummed when you refused to speak, and brought the milkshake to your mouth, studying your lips as they closed on the striped paper straw, and your cheeks hollowing when you sucked.

“Could’ve drove you myself if you’d asked. Could’ve brought you somewhere nice on holiday this winter. Someplace outside of Ohio.” he continued, taking a sip for himself, “Maybe we can go to a beach on our honeymoon, whaddya say, huh?”

You snorted at his audacity, almost inhaling the milkshake.

“What honeymoon are you talking about, Lee? Ain’t no way I’m marrying you now.”

He shook his head again, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Yes, you are, dove. You are marrying me.”

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head as you gave him an incredulous look. Had you been blinded by love, or was he showing his true colors now?

“What, you’re gonna drag me by the hair and force me to sign the papers? Don’t think the preacher or the fine citizens of this shitty fuckin’ town are gonna like that too much.”

You scoffed, feeling your vision blur with tears again.

Lee levelled his face with yours, eyes darting between your own. You’d never noticed the darkness in him, and it made your heartbeat spike for all the wrong reasons.

“I don’t need to drag you, dove. You’re gonna come to that altar with a smile on these pretty lips. And you know why?” he whispered in your ear, and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

His calloused hand caressed your thigh, slowly hiking up your pleated skirt. “Because I’m finally gonna put a child inside you tonight, and nothing’s gonna stop me.”

Before you had time to react, or panic, he’d climbed to the passenger’s side, caging you in with his large body. He slanted his mouth against yours, forcing his tongue between your lips that you’d parted in a surprised gasp.

You pushed your shoulders against his, trying to pry him away, but he groped you relentlessly. Panic gripped you when you realized you were bound and at his mercy, and he wasn’t joking about his intentions.

“Gonna keep you chained until I knock you up, dove. Keep you in my house, can’t trust that mother of yours,” he huffed between kisses, hands roaming over your body.

“Stop, Lee, have you lost your goddamn mind? Don’t fuckin’ touch me, you asshole. Lemme go.”

You managed to kick his stomach, but in the frantic haze that had overcome him, he barely took notice, continuing his exploration of your body.

You shrieked when his hand dipped in your panties, and to your utter shame, found them soaked.

“You really want me to stop? Because your pussy is telling me a whole ‘nother story, sweetie. Feel how wet you are for me, you like this, don’t ya?”

He brought his finger to your lips, forcing your mouth open until you’d sucked him clean of your juices. He hummed when he dipped down and kissed you again, tasting your arousal on your tongue.

Your teeth snapped on his bottom lip until you’d drawn blood, and he released you with a hiss. His hand gripped your jaw, and tears began blurring your vision.

You couldn’t find adoration, love, and care in his eyes, only cruel determination.

The screams you let out sounded like a muffled gargle.

“Scream all you want, no one’s gonna hear you, and if they do, what’re they gonna say to me? I’m the sheriff sweetie, I’m the law. You were just stupid enough to think you could escape me.”

You pushed, kicked, screamed, thrashed until the metal cuffs had scrubbed your skin raw, fighting the hands that were pushing your bra down until your tits spilled out.

His fingers grazed your heated skin like they’d done a million times before, staining your loving memories forever.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re gonna look so good with my baby inside you, all round and swollen.” he groaned, nipping at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, sucking on the skin hard enough to hurt you, “All the men in this town are gonna be jealous of me. Might have to keep you locked up all the time.”

You couldn’t deny the throbbing in your core when his tongue licked a stripe behind your ear, nor the arousal soaking through your panties when slid his hand over the hair on your mound, teasing you.

“Gonna keep these tits full of milk for a long time sweetie.”

You moaned when his thick fingers breached your entrance, feeling the pressure build up as he kept pumping them in and out of you. He kept his thumb on your clit, the way he knew you liked, until you were so sensitive and overstimulated that you couldn’t tell pain and pleasure apart.

“You can never leave me, never again. Don’t you understand, I’m nothing without you. I need you.”

He played your body so well that it made you sick.

“Please Lee,” you panted, clenching your jaw to suppress your wanton sounds, “Don’t do this. There’s no turning back from this. Please.” you pleaded, lips wobbling.

“That’s the point,” he huffed, struggling to fit in the space between the passenger’s seat and the dashboard.

He forcefully spread your legs open, making a quick work of ripping your cotton panties to shreds. Bringing his face down to your glistening cunt, he inhaled a deep breath before delving into your folds, tongue lapping at your juices. The lewd, slurping sounds soon mixed with your moans that you could no longer keep in.

By that point you didn’t know if you were fighting to keep his head where it was or to rip it out of his neck.

“You taste like heaven, so fuckin’ sweet.” he grunted before latching onto your bud, hollowing his cheeks arount it as he sucked you off.

Fireworks went off in your lower belly when pleasure exploded inside you. Waves of pleasure crashed through your body, rendering your limbs limp and heavy.

All rational thoughts thrown out the window, you melted into his body when he surged forward to slant his lips against yours. He swallowed your moans with his hungry kisses, cradling your face like the most precious artifact.

It felt wrong, yet so right. He was still Lee. Your Lee. The one who’d drive and sing with you, who’d found your dad a job after he’d lost it, who’d made love with the most care unlike any other man who’d ever laid a finger on you.

At least, that’s what you tried telling yourself when he pushed his hard, leaking cock inside your swollen cunt, and your body welcomed him in your warmth without any fight.

You both snarled when he sheathed himself inside you.

“I love you so much sweetie, I can’t lose you again.”

It was wrong and dirty, but it was okay to feel good because it was your Lee between your legs.

He hoisted your legs over his shoulders and slumped against the seat. His cock reached deeper than you thought possible, and you felt every ridge and veins slide over your walls.

Teeth clattering, bruising touches. You ached to touch him, maybe claw his eyes out or caress his chubby cheeks.

Electricity jolted every nerve ending on your body, and the next words he whimpered in your ear would have been a cold shower, had you not been so far gone already.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum inside you, dove, fill you up with my cum over and over again until I’m sure I’ve put a baby in you. Fuck-”

He snapped his hips harder against yours, thrusting his cock in and out of you. Your cunt quivered around him, gripping him tightly. He pushed you over the edge over and over again, until you were a drooling mess who couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore.

“I told you sweetie, it’s only a matter of time.” He punctuated each world he panted in the crook of your neck with a harsher thrust of his hips. “Ain’t no more parking lots, just a big ole bed. Yeah, people like me in this town, you know that, dove. I’ll get myself elected-, get a- cushy place up on Brewer Heights. We’ll be happy, have kids and all. My pretty wife, fuck- every man in this shitty town will envy me.”

You bucked your hips against his, wildly chasing your release. He could feel another one of your orgasms near by the way you clenched around him.

“Fuck-, God, you’re squeezin’ me. Fuckin’ cum on ny cock dove, I want to feel you come all over me, make a mess on me.”

You pushed out the muscles of your pelvis, and the intensity of your pleasure almost blacked you out again as you gushed all over him, soaking through your skirt onto the seat.

His cock swelled and twitched, and he released himself inside you, painting your walls with his hot spurt. The feeling was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, a fullness you never thought you could experience.

Your chest heaved as you slumped on the seat, arms aching and wrists scrubbed raw.

His cock softened inside you, and he watched enthralled his seed spill out of your cunt, your abused hole still clenching around nothing.

“Jesus, I hope it takes, dove.”

He droned some more, but you’d stopped listening. You kept staring ahead, letting him dress you back again like a motionless doll.

Had you been more aware, you would have seen the shadow of guilt creep on his face, soon replaced by cool determination when he blinked the tears away and hardened his stare once again.

Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore.

Static noises interrupted his actions.

“Any cars around-...got a call from Hawk at the bar- anyone can check that out?”

“Fuck,” he groaned, picking up the radio, “I wanted to go at it a few more times, just to make sure.”

Minutes, or maybe hours, passed by in a blur. You had no idea where you were, or how long it’d been since he dragged you back in this hellhole.

New York, a new job, a new beginning. It all seemed so far.

There was only one thing you knew for sure.

“I’m getting out of ‘ere again, Lee.” You murmured in a daze, “I’m getting out and God himself couldn’t stop me if he tried.”

Drained of all energies, you let the soothing sway of the car lull you to sleep.

Lee sighed to himself, watching you so defensless, bound at his mercy. He’d take care of you until the end of his miserable life, and protect you from everything, even yourself.

“I'm the only God here, sweetie, and I can assure you, you’re not going anywhere.”

Afterall, his dove couldn’t fly away from him with broken wings.

-

I hope you enjoyed this! Please, leave some feedback. It means the world to me! 💓

[hawks-supremacy]

In Your Shadow

Summary: Living life in your brother’s shadow wasn’t fun, it was quite the opposite actually.

Pairings: None? Iwaizumi x Reader at the very end.

Warnings: Swearing, angst?

Genre: Mostly angst, fluff at the end

Word Count: 1.6k

Being the younger sister of Oikawa Tooru has never been easy. People worship the ground he walks on and barely even notice you’re there. Even as kids people always saw him as the pretty athletic one and you were the nerdy one who didn’t want to join a sport or club. It didn’t matter if you two practically looked like twins, he would always be the prettier one. You think it’s because he’s the star of the volleyball team while you just sat on the sidelines observing but never cheering. You were used to people using you to get close to him. Granted you didn’t realize that it was happening until you were in middle school when your friends always wanted to hangout at your place and never theirs. You were never included in plans unless they were taking place at your house. Only when your brother was home. People pretended they liked you just so they could get closer to Tooru. It was a constant cycle of this, you didn’t mind. Rather wanting to be surrounded by fake friends than have no one. Sure it hurt but you could never be mad at Tooru, he wasn’t to blame. He didn’t know he was the reason why you had new friends every month, the new ones somehow faker than the last. You kept a smile on saying you understood when people told you they didn’t want to hangout anymore.

You were never mad at Tooru, even as kids. You were never mad at the fact that your parents always forgot about your dance recitals as a kid because they would rather attend his Volleyball games. You didn’t get mad when your parents didn’t buy you new ballet shoes because they just bought a Volleyball net for Tooru to practice at home. You didn’t get mad when you told your dance teacher you were quitting dance. You didn’t get mad as you walked home as you cried because your parents forgot to pick you up from your last dance class that day.

You decided to finally join the art club during your first year, trying something for yourself. Deciding that Aoba Johsai was going to be different than when you were a kid and in middle school. You didn’t get mad when you sat surrounded by your art projects long after the art showing had been done. You didn’t get mad that your parents hadn’t shown up instead deciding to go to a practice match your brother was having with another school. You didn’t get mad as you watched them exit the school with your brother forgetting you were still at the school. You didn’t get mad because Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki had shown up and complimented your work. You didn’t get mad as you cried as they pulled you into a hug offering to walk you home. You weren’t mad as you quit the art club to become the volleyball team manager instead.

You could never be mad at your brother. Not even when you started receiving his confession notes in your locker during your first year at Aoba Johsai. The false hope that filled your heart when the letter fell from your locker quickly shattered when you realized it was for Tooru. You still couldn’t bring yourself to blame him as you tucked the fifteenth love letter for Tooru in one week into the quickly growing pile at the corner of your locker. Not getting mad when one was finally addressed to you but it was someone wanting you to put in a good word for them and thought you would only talk to them if you had thought you were getting confessed to. 

You couldn’t get mad when he took the first real friends from you. Telling you that you couldn’t hang out with him and his friends because they were only his friends and not yours. So you stopped hanging out with Mastukawa and Hanamaki going back to the friends who never wanted to get to know you. You stopped hanging out with the only people who ever bothered to learn your favorite color.

You didn’t get mad when his fangirls stopped you from going into the gym during his practice. You didn’t get mad when you cried after they hurled insults at you comparing you to Tooru. You didn’t get mad when you asked him to tell them to stop coming up to you and he told you they were harmless. You didn't get mad because you didn’t tell him why you wanted them to stop.

You never got mad at Tooru. You didn’t even get mad when he yelled at you for making his fangirls cry. They just wanted to support him after all. So you ignored them during the day, only letting their harsh words sink in at night.

You didn’t get mad at Tooru when he sternly told you the Iwaizumi was off limits because he was his best friend because he had caught you staring at the ace for a second too long. You didn’t get mad as you decided to push the feelings down, trying hard to not let them resurface. You weren’t mad at Tooru when Iwaizumi had started questioning why you had grown distant from him, Matsun and Maki. 

You couldn’t get mad at Tooru. Not even if you tried, because at the end of the day it was your fault. Maybe it could’ve been stopped if you had told Tooru. If you told him what was going on. Told him he was the reason you quit dance and art. Told him he was the reason you never really had any friends. Told him his fangirls were harsh and cold towards you. Told him that Matsun and Hanamaki were your first real friends. However, you never told him. So you had no right to get mad at him, only at yourself.

You broke when one of his fangirls pushed you too far. Pulling on your hair causing you to fall and scrape your arm. You broke when he yelled at you for fighting back. You broke when he yelled at you when he caught Iwaizumi cleaning and helping bandage the deep scrape on your arm. You broke when he took Iwaizumi and silently left to go to practice. You broke when you saw how sorry Iwaizumi looked as your brother dragged him away from you. You were finally mad at Tooru.

You were mad as you angrily swiped at your face hoping to get rid of the tears. You were mad as you went to your locker and grabbed the bundle of confession notes that people had wanted you to give to him but you never did. You were mad when you harshly shoved his fangirls out of your way to the gym. You were mad as you shoved open the doors. You were mad as you walked up to Tooru, the whole gym staring at you. You were mad as you threw the letters at Tooru, watching as they went everywhere. You were mad as you were still crying. 

You were mad as you were calmly talking not finding the energy to yell, “Take your fucking letters Tooru. Take your fucking friends. Take your fucking praise. Take our fucking parents. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care that our parents never made time for me. I don’t care that I’ve never had real friends. I don’t care that I’ve never had a genuine connection with anyone. I don’t care that your fangirls were mean to me. I don’t care that you told me to stay away from the only real friends who cared about me. I don’t care. You know what I do care about? You. I care about you and you never cared about me. It’s fucking ridiculous, I’m ridiculous. I cared about someone who didn’t know they were unintentionally hurting me. I cared about someone who couldn’t open their eyes and see how selfish they were being. I don’t care anymore so just take everything Tooru. Just like you already have.” 

You were mad that you regretted saying those words. You were mad that you felt bad seeing the look of guilt and hurt on Tooru’s face as Iwaizumi led you out of the gym. You were mad that even as Iwa was wiping away your tears you told him to go make sure Tooru was okay. You were mad at yourself. You shouldn’t have been. You had every right to be mad, just maybe not at Tooru. Be mad at your parents. At the fangirls, at the fake friends you had. Not Tooru. You were still crying when Matsun and Maki took over as Iwaizumi went to go check on Tooru like you had asked. You were still crying when they took you to your favorite diner and bought you your favorite foods. 

You were still crying when you finally got home and Tooru hugged you as you walked into the living room. You cried harder when he started apologizing. Apologizing for never noticing you. Never noticing the hurt and trouble you went through just for him. Apologizing for taking your life away from you. Apologizing for always being in the limelight and never giving it to you. You cried when he apologized for taking away your first friends. You cried when he told you you could be friends with them, that he didn’t care. As long as you were happy. You cried when he gave you permission to date Iwaizumi saying the ace had feelings for you too. 

You laughed as said person smacked the back of his head. You laughed as you watched them bicker back and forth. You laughed when Matsun and Maki started making bets on who would win the argument this time. You let out a laugh that wasn’t forced for the first time in a while. You smiled genuinely for the first time in the longest time. You were happy that Tooru wasn’t mad at you for yelling at him. Happy that you had real friends. Happy when Iwaizumi asked you out. You were finally happy.

[yanderes-galore]

Sure! I'm gonna make seperate requests on different posts, but I will make sure to link them here as well as put them on my Masterlist for you.

First I will do Luca

I will link Spy & Pyro here when I finish them.

Warning in advance, I have no idea how to do angst properly :') I'll try my best for you.

This is loosely based on Luca's backstory.

Cage

Yandere! Luca Balsa ("Prisoner") Angst Scenario

Summary: After the death of your lover, you are invited to a manor for a large cash prize. Who knew that you'd find a killer there, too?

Possible Trigger Warnings: Yandere themes such as a forced relationship, implied stalking, death by electrocution/explosion, Angst, female pronouns.

The memory still made you sob. You tried to ignore your feelings and focus on winning the game in this manor, but it tore itself out of you. You just wanted to get your life back together.

The amount of money that came out of this game was enough to make you start anew. To make you forget your past, to hide yourself away from others. You would rather hide than love again.

Your fiance, an inventor, had died tragically in an accident. A machine he was working on had exploded, killing him and a few others. You grit your teeth, how careless his fellow inventors were.

You could only imagine the pain he felt, electricity burning through his body as the scent of crisped skin filled the air. All before the machine combusted, killing him and ending his suffering.

After losing him, you could never love again. It would be impossible for you. You just hoped whoever caused the explosion rotted in jail.

It was only after that tragedy did you get a letter. A letter inviting you to a manor with the promise of changing your life. It changed something, alright.

Game after game of being prey was no better than your previous life. It seemed despair and tragedy followed you wherever you went.

One person made you feel a little better, however. He was so close to the person you lost, it gave you a small sense of comfort.

Luca Balsa, a man who had lost his memories and only remembered he to was an inventor, was the closest form of comfort you ever had here. It seemed you were his comfort, too.

You shared peaceful moments healing each other after matches, speaking of strategies as you carefully bandage wounds. You couldn't have a better connection with anyone else.

Luca, on the other hand, couldn't help but fall for you. You felt familiar to him, like somewhere in his memories he knew about you. They were foggy, but something had to be there.

The longer you two stayed in this manor, the more Luca remembered. He had met you, but only by word of mouth.

When he had attended gatherings, there was a young inventor like him there. That young inventor was someone he worked with, and at that inventor's side, a young woman.

He remembered the woman as gorgeous, and how he felt envy for his fellow inventor. Even though Luca focused mostly on his machines, he couldn't help but think of her.

Even after the falling out with his master, he thought back to the woman. He felt he had a chance when he saw that same inventor, working on a machine he hired him to help with.

Then it happened. Electricity sparked the air and everything went white, then black. That's when he woke up in jail, a slave for them to do whatever with.

That woman was you, he knew it now. The woman he wanted to appease, that woman he killed for albeit accidentally, was you.

His behavior towards you got more intense. When putting bandages on you, his touches linger. He only wished to caress your skin, to kiss your lips, to have you after all this time.

You were none the wiser to his realization. Only treating him, the person who murdered your love, with friendly affection.

Friendly affection was not enough, however.

That's when he spilled it.

"I know who killed your fiance..."

"What...? Who? How!?"

Your tears acted up again, While Luca was emotionless as he coughed up the truth coldly.

"I did it."

Your heart freezes, air caught in your throat as you back off.

"You're joking, no way you could of-"

"I hired him to help me on a machine, then it exploded. I vaguely remember it, and I'm sorry.

You sob, as you try to open the door to the hallway.

"It was an accident, I swear! Please don't leave, Not after I remembered that I loved you!"

You pause, then grit your teeth.

"Loved me? You're delusional. I vowed to never love another, especially a murderer."

You fall against the door, Luca quickly grabbing you. You squeal as he buries his face in your neck.

"Please, It was an accident. I don't want you to hate me, not after I've fallen for you again! I won't let you leave, never again!"

Fate had dealt you a poor hand. From the start with your lover's death, fate was leading you right into the cage of Luca Balsa.

Author's Final Thoughts: Luca is such a fun character to play in Identity V. I love his character and this scenario was fun to write. I had to do some research for his backstory and angst, but I think it was okay up until the reveal. I think I could of made the reveal better, but it gets the point across. It first started that the death of your fiance was on purpose, then I swaped it to an accident. I hope you enjoyed!

[dreamescapeswriting]

Unfinished Business ~ Part 4

WORD COUNT: 4.5K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, murder, blood

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part four of nine of my new Bang Chan series. 

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no…He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

The next morning you were walked down to the breakfast table as though you were some kind of prisoner, Seungmin apologised when he had to take you but you kept your mouth shut not wanting to breathe a word to anyone after last night. You hadn't slept at all, you couldn't get the images out of your head. It was hard to move something like that from your mind, she was like family to you and just like that she was gone. Sitting at the table was Chan, he was reading through something you didn't care about so you sat down where the empty plate was and it was soon being plated with food by Felix who gave you a sympathetic look. They all knew what had happened inside of that room and yet did nothing to help you stop it.

"How's your ankle?" Chan asked not lifting his eyes from the paper he was reading from, searching for any news on Namjoon or about what had happened with Mrs Lu - there was nothing there. He wanted to move his eyes from the paper though, he wanted to look at you and see that you were okay. He knew you wouldn't speak much after what he'd put you through the night before. He knew that it was harsh but it was what had to be done, even after a lengthy conversation with Felix about it, it was what was needed.

"Fine." You mumbled taking the cup of tea that had been poured for you by Jeongin and sipping on it ignoring the burning sensation on your tongue as the liquid hit it,

"Eat something," He said firmly, finally glancing at you from across the table, he could already tell you hadn't slept. Your hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail, you were wearing sweats and a baggy shirt not to mention you had bags under your eyes, Felix said he'd heard you crying when it was his shift so that explained your eyes looking so bloodshot and your nose being red.

"Is the bedroom not to your standards? I can have a new bed brought in if you'd sleep better on it?" You hated that his voice was laced with concern for you and your wellbeing when he'd been nothing but mean from the moment you came to him - or rather were kidnapped by him.

"It's fine. Couldn't sleep. Nightmares." Your voice was monotone as you stared at the plate in front of you not wanting to eat anything that had been placed in front of you.

"I'm not hungry. Can I leave the table?" It felt as though you were talking to your parents when you were younger,

"Not until you eat something. You didn't have anything last night." You looked at the food and took the apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table, biting into it while staring at Chan smugly who just sniggered at you.

"I'll give you it." He put the paper down and leant on the table with his hands as he stood up from under the table, dressed in his usual suit and tie.

"Han said you wanted to go out and pick paint. We'll make a day trip of it." You swallowed the chunk of apple you'd been chewing on out of surprise and stared at him, this was some kind of test it just had to be.

"You said I wasn't allowed out-"

"Unless accompanied, unless you're still planning on running..." He buttoned his suit jacket up looking at you with a raised eyebrow, it was now that you realised one of them had a slit in it but it wasn't shaved, it was a faint scar.

"No! No, I won't. I said I'll stay." You meant it, you meant everything you'd said. You weren't going to try escaping if it meant more people would die because of you. It wasn't worth it.

"Good. Jisung will bring you up a dress to change into. I'm still having a wardrobe picked out to match you perfectly." You nodded and slowly got up from the table, too scared to make some kind of wrong move around him. Then you began walking with Seungmin past Chan when his hand reached out to touch your wrist, you flinched and he froze. He stared at you for a couple of seconds forgetting everything he was going to say to you when he saw the way you flinched at his touch,

"I-" He forgot everything he'd wanted to say when he stared into your eyes, he could see the fear that you held in them. Your eyes danced from his eyes to his wrist and he let go not wanting to upset you anymore than he already had.

"Make sure she has some ice for her ankle, and bandage it up." He said to Seungmin but his eyes never left yours, you could have sworn that he looked concerned for you and he was. He felt terrible for your ankle, the moment he'd grabbed your ankle he wanted to punch himself in the gut. He knew how painful it could be to be chained up like that and he felt awful for doing it to you the moment it happened.

"Thanks," You whispered to him, quickly leaving him there going towards the staircase with Seungmin who then left you at the bottom of the staircase with Jisung who also felt terrible for what had happened. Except he was the only one showing it clearly, he'd never liked the killing aspect of their life, he never liked this life he only stuck around because of Chan and the boys. He began taking you up the stairs making sure to walk slowly enough so you wouldn't damage the ankle more.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom, wait here," Jisung said as he left to go into the en-suite within your room, you stared at the door where you could see him reaching through the cupboards above the sink. You felt bad for running out on him the night before but you had to try and get out. He'd been the only one to show you any kind of kindness except for Felix and Jeongin.

"Why does he do that?" The question came out without context when Jisung came back into the room with some scissors and a bandage, he patted the bed and you followed his orders sitting down lifting your foot to sit on his knee.

"Do what?" He began wrapping up your ankle in a blue bandage to keep the pressure on it and you hissed as he applied more and more pressure each time he wrapped the bandage around, it wasn't awful like Chan's the night before. It felt nice to have it there.

"He acts like he cares when he clearly doesn't after what he did to me." Jisung sighed looking at you from the corner of his eye, he thought you would have been smart enough to see through Chan's clear facade but he was wrong about that.

"I told you. We don't like to kill-" He tried to defend him again but you weren't going to let him.

"And yet he did," He gave you the side-eye he wanted to tell you the truth about everything, about last night and how things weren't always what they seemed to be but he continued to bandage your ankle up in silence deciding he valued his life.

"I have no explanation for anything Chan does, all I have is an excuse that isn't mine to give out. Just know that somewhere deep inside his head he's doing it because he cares." That was all he could say to you without going too into detail about everything that went on inside Chan's head, the original plan for you was changing day to day depending on Chan's mood and it was giving Jisung and the boys whiplash. Your mind was being torn to shreds. Cares? He didn't even know you?

"He cares for me? He doesn't know me-"

"He knows enough, we all do." The folder. You looked at the floor and tried to remember what was inside the folder, everything. Every single detail about your life no matter how big or small was in that folder, your parents, your grandparents, all of your jobs from the ages of 11 and up. If someone read it they could say they'd known you since birth, passed off as you if they wanted to commit identity fraud.

"But why?" you asked. Jisung scoffed and helped you stand back up on your feet, you could finally put pressure on your ankle without it sending shooting pains throughout your leg.

"You're going to ask me to explain his complex brain?" You knew it was a long shot when you asked so you nodded at him and he pointed at another floral dress sitting on the hanger on your wardrobe door deciding he wasn't going to talk about it any more than he had. He could get into trouble for what he'd already told you.

"He doesn't like to be kept waiting." He said simply as you nodded in understanding and he left the room for you to get changed, standing just outside the door so he could walk you downstairs when you were finished.

Walking around the mall with Chan was weird - mostly because you were hand in hand with him but also because people were staring the whole time. The hand holding was his idea, he knew it was one way he could get all eyes on both of you and that was what he needed. Eyes were on you wherever you went, you thought it was just because of who Chan was but he told you it was because he hadn't been seen with a female companion in a while.

"They're staring at me?" You whispered as you walked past another couple who both stared at you blatantly obviously, both of them mumbling to the other about you as you walked, the woman's hand covering her mouth as she obviously said something to her partner. You looked at the dress feeling insecure but Chan stopped once he realised where your mind was going,

"They don't like seeing powerful men with a woman at his side. You look fine. The dress is perfect." Before you could argue with him he pointed at the paint shop you'd requested to go to and you walked inside head hanging low as you tried not to think about people looking at you. His hand never left yours and when the man behind the counter began talking to you his grip tightened,

"Can I get classical white, runaway blue, and a set of your acrylic paints and paintbrushes please?" You said to him, trying not to stare at him as he stared at your hand with Chans you wanted to beg for him to save you but images of the night before raised back into your head, along with images of your grandfather.

"I have to take this," Chan said as his phone started to ring loudly in his top pocket he moved away from you and out of the shop, Felix stood in the door to make sure no one else could go in or out of the shop without him knowing about it.

"Would you like to see the paint being mixed?" The man asked with wide eyes trying to think of a way that he could talk to you in private he'd seen this before with Chan's type,

"I'd love to." Your voice came out shaky and uneasy so you followed him over to the paint shaker and he started it up it was loud enough to cover up the conversation he was going to have with you,

"Do you need help? We can get you out...Just say the word and I'll sneak you out of the back-" A hand was placed on your shoulder before it moved and a voice spoke out,

"That won't be necessary will it, baby girl?" Your whole body was on edge as you heard him call you baby girl again, his arm wrapped around your waist and you felt sick for the man's safety.

"No. I'm fine thank you." Your monotone was back and the man stared between you and Chan and you gave him a knowing look not to press for anything, maybe that had been the real reason everyone had been staring. They were trying to break you away from Chan and get you safe. It was no secret who Chan was; him and the boys were practically famous for what they did. You took Chan over to some canvas' and his hand tightened on your waist as he grew angrier, his pulse racing as he thought about someone taking you away from him. His pulse was beating so much you could feel it on your hip where his arm was resting.

"I'll kill him-" This time your pulse raced,

"He was just worried about someone's safety. Don't hurt him. I'm staying. I'm here. I'll stay," You promised with him and linked your hands together once more to show him that it was the truth, his pulse slowed back down and his expression softened as he locked eyes with you.

"I'm not going anywhere," You matched his soft expression and he looked at you wondering why you were being so nice to the man when you didn't know him but then he remembered the file. You'd always been nice to everyone, volunteering at the nursing home, at the hospital and regularly working for charities. Which reminded him of something he had to do soon and he wanted to ask you too.

"I have something to ask of you." He walked you over to some more paints and you nodded, you'd do anything if it meant no one else would die because of you.

"I regularly attend a charity event and would you like to go with me?" Charity? He...donated to charity your blood boiled at the thought of him only doing it to make up for the shit he did.

"What is that? Your sick kind of way of making up for all of the terrible things you do to people?" The words slipped out before you could even think about them and he looked mortified as you said that to him, it wasn't true at all. It couldn't have been further from the truth, the charity was something he held close to him that he'd been doing long before he came into this lifestyle. You could tell by the look on his face that you'd hurt him and you felt bad for a second, fearing that if you stepped out of line something could happen you tried to justify yourself.

"S-Sorry. I didn't think-"

"It's a charity I hold close to my heart. You will attend the function with me." It wasn't a question this time it was a statement, you were going and you had no choice in the matter. You nodded at him knowing the repercussions if you didn't say yes and he went back to looking at the paint like everything was normal.

Chan was off again on business, the moment you were done inside of the shop he told you he had to leave and you were sent home alone with Jisung, Hyunjin and Jeongin who were watching you closely as you walked around your bedroom as if they had nothing better to do with their time.

"Do you have any plastic covers, Chan didn't get some earlier." Jisung and Hyunjin exchanged looks as if they were having some kind of psychic conversation together.

"There's some in the office," Jeongin said nodding for you to follow him into the office across the hall so you did, walking behind him as he got into the room. You stood in the door and images came flooding back from what had happened the night before, the carpet was gone and replaced with laminate flooring as if nothing had happened. Jeongin followed your gaze as he realised what he'd done and where he'd brought you.

"Shit. Sorry, I forgot-" He was so used to this life he'd forgotten how it affected those who weren't used to this,

"It's fine," You lied looking down at your hands instead of the flooring. He began looking through drawers when you saw a bookshelf, sitting there in the centre shelf was a photograph of Chan and another woman.

"Who's this?" You asked, opening the glass doors to take a closer look at the image that was sitting there. Jeongin glanced up at you, panic rushing through him as you touched the photo. Chan hated it when people touched his stuff.

"Chan's wife. Shes- Shes not with us anymore." You ran your fingers over the photograph, she looked like you. She looked a lot like you, from the hair right down to the dress you were wearing. So that was what he was doing? He saw his wife in you and was trying to replace her with you? You put the photograph back down and Jeongin held up the covers he'd gotten from the bottom drawer. Maybe his ex-wife was the way out for you, maybe her being his weakness was your way out. Make him fall for you, make him weak and escape when he doesn’t see it coming?

"What are you painting?" He questioned as you walked out of the office. He locked the door and added the key into his pocket. Everyone had a key to the office by the looks of it.

"Sunflowers." You whispered as he walked you into the room, Jisung was alone now as he looked at the wall you were planning on painting on.

"Hyunjin is cooking us something to eat, Jeongin go and help him." The small boy left the room after dropping the covers onto your bed for you to sort out. You looked at Jisung from the corner of your eye as you poured paint out into the containers.

"You're being awfully calm for someone who'd spent the day with someone she hates," You ignored his comment, not wanting to raise any suspicion and took the roller dipping it into the sky blue paint.

"He was kinder...didn't hurt that man." He hummed at you, not believing it for even a second and stared as you starting to add a light blue to the wall.

"You didn't try to escape, that was the only reason he didn't do anything. Don't think he's going soft on you." You hummed this time, not believing him and he shook his head at you. All that filled your head was the photo of his wife and Chan together. His arms wrapped around her waist as he had a huge smile on his face, so big you could see dimples on the sides of his cheeks.

"How did he lose his wife?" You asked without moving your eyes from the wall it was an innocent enough question but you didn't want it to seem as though you were prying him for information because you weren't.

"Why?" You shook your head and looked over at him,

"I saw the photo. She looked young." He looked down at the floor. They weren't supposed to talk about her. They were supposed to keep their mouths shut. You weren’t even supposed to know that he’d had a wife so Jeongin had fucked up by letting you see the photograph.

"Is she the reason you're not allowed to listen to music?" He knew you were up to something the minute you asked that question and he cut everything short not having time for the bullshit.

"Whatever you're planning, get it out of your head now. Unless you want a repeat of Mrs Lu with your grandfather." You stared at him as he brought your grandfather up into the conversation,

"Do you think I'd plan anything after what I saw last night! She was like a mother to me and he ripped her away. I wouldn't disobey him again." It was only partially true, you were planning to get away but you were planning on making it easier on everyone else first.

Chan walked up the staircase to see Minho was asleep outside of your room, his head resting on a wall. He didn't blame him, it had been a long day at the offices. They were all tired and he was about to head to his own bed when he heard soft humming coming from your room, he was surprised you were still awake after not sleeping the night before. He pushed the door open silently to see you standing there with a paintbrush in your hand, you were sitting crossed-legged on a set of chest drawers sitting so close to the wall your nose could have some paint on it. He knew the tune you were humming but he couldn't place what it was, he watched as you added another brush stroke to the wall. He made his way inside until he was standing right behind you, you hadn't heard him thanks to your humming which had slowly turned into softly sung lyrics.

"Your favourite?" You fell backwards, your legs spralling out in front of you to try and catch yourself but Chan caught you quickly before you could hurt yourself. Your arms resting on his as you stared up at him and you realised you'd painted a bright yellow stripe down his suit jacket.

"Sorry, it'll come right out if you wash it right now." You struggled out of his arms and stripped off his jacket rushing into the en-suite where you panicked trying to wash the paint off his jacket. His hands rested on your arms to stop you moving so fast and for a split second, it felt nice to have him this close to you, a spark rushing up and down your body making you feel a little uneasy.

"It's fine. I can have it dry cleaned." He slipped it out from under the water and hung it over the shower since it was wet.

"You're scared of me?" You nodded at him and he tried not to sigh, it wasn't what he wanted at all he didn't want you to fear him this badly.

"They are." He frowned confused as you answered something else,

"My favourite, you asked. They are." You said pointing over at the sunflowers on the wall.

"You should be asleep, you haven't slept for almost 48 hours." You looked at the watch on his wrist to see that it was almost 3 am,

"I can't sleep....always struggled." You admitted to him and he nodded in understanding. He'd also struggled with his sleep for a long time which meant he had tips to help you.

"I struggle with sleep too." You ignored the need to make a quip about what he did for a living was probably keeping him up at night and he walked you over to the giant double bed pulling back the sheets for you.

"But you should sleep, we have an event later in the week and I need you to be well-rested for it." You got under the covers and stared at him as he tucked you into the bed and started humming to the song you'd been singing. So music wasn't something he hated completely. That was something that you could work with.

"Can I have a radio tomorrow? To work with while I paint?" He stared at you.

"I don't like music." He answered plainly not looking away from your eyes,

"Oh...Okay." He could tell how disappointed you were and he looked down at you. He hated seeing you look so disappointed about something, he never wanted to see that look again even if it meant doing something he didn't like.

"I'll see what I can do." He brushed the hair from your face and kissed your forehead. Softly sparks shot through your body and you stared at him trying not to give signs away that you felt them. You couldn't fall for him, not after what he did and who he was, he'd killed  Mrs Lu, he ran drug cartels, money laundering, cold-blooded murder, gang wars and...Well, there were many rumours...Not everything had to be true did it? You wanted to question him on that now, find out what exactly was and wasn't true with him and his crew. Trying to get your head back into your plan, instead of what Chan did for a living, you questioned him on the music subject,

"Why don't you like music?" You shifted over in the bed so he could sit beside you, he stared at the space and you stared into his eyes.

"Tell me." You pleaded, placing your hand on his as he sat down on the space you'd left for him. He felt his heart warm up as you talked to him calmly and touched him because you wanted to, not because he was forcing you to.

"It's nothing, just something that used to be played a lot in the house and then there was no need for it." He took his hand away from you not wanting to get into this, it was too much for one night, he'd already told you too much. You were just supposed to be bait for Namjoon but he was starting to feel more for you, he got off the bed quickly and left the room slamming the door so hard that Minho jumped awake and stared at his boss rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Something wrong?"

"She likes music."

"That would be nice...right?" Minho and Felix had really been the only ones to calm Chan down when he got bad like this when he got upset over his wife. They'd been there for him the longest and it was them he could trust the most. Chan hummed in answer of Minho’s question and walked into his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He walked over to the photo frames that lined his desk, all him and his wife together in the earlier days of the marriage.

"Every day I miss you a little more." But there was something else taking over his heart, he stared at the photos and he no longer felt hurt by them. It was more of a feeling of peace as he stared at his once happy wife, but he was starting to picture his life with you instead of with her. He took the frames and placed them into the bottom drawer of a desk inside his bedroom and began changing out of his suit. He hated that he snapped at you like that, but he didn't want you knowing his weaknesses, you'd use them against him just like everyone else did. Just like Namjoon did with her...but then again. The plan had been to lure Namjoon out of the shadows with you, use you as bait to get the confession from Namjoon but now he could use it to his advantage. Namjoon could scare you into staying with him and Chan wouldn't have to be the bad guy anymore...He could be the one trying to protect you instead he just had to come up with a way to get it to work.

Tagline: @moonprincessdiviniation​ - my beautiful and wonderful editor, @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @hugs4chan​ @ncitythoughts​ @inseonqt​ @cloudsgathering​

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl - Three

Summary: In which Flip reaches new levels of anger when the reader is injured, and that’s before he finds out how.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, sexual harassment, burns, angry Flip, hospital, gunshot (all pretty minor and brief). WC-3,574

A/N: Discovered the Rough Day series by @no-droids​ this week and frankly it’s changed me as a person. I cannot be held responsible for my minds distractions when I tried focusing on this chapter. 

Over the next week, Flip’s lack of sleep began to catch up with him. He had begun smoking more to distract from the exhaustion, his temper was always bubbling under the surface, and even Jimmy had told Flip off a few times. While (Y/N)’s performance at work wasn’t affected, Flip had noticed she was frowning a little more often when she thought he wasn’t looking. That bothered him more than anything else.

Guilt lingered over Flip for his thoughts on the day that (Y/N) was accosted. Not only was he now questioning exactly what he thought he saw in her expression, but he also worried that his attempts to relieve himself of the pressure had, in fact, only made it grow. He felt like a damn teenager again. He’d never felt so wholly attracted to a woman before; it wasn’t just her looks or her style, no. Flip was getting turned on by the simplest little smirks, the way she would stretch her shoulders back after typing for a while, or even from watching her take notes in a meeting-her hand moving across the page in elegant cursive.

And he had thought he was a goner when they’d only first met. Now he was a man burning.

It was a bright morning, the kind of day that one hoped for when a fall fair was in town. Flip and Jimmy had been on the scene of an attempted robbery gone wrong; the shop owner had shot the perp as he fled, wounding his arm. While Jimmy remained at the scene to wait on backup and take statements, Flip begrudgingly brought the perp to the hospital to get cleaned up.

He had to wait for uniformed officers from the station to arrive and take over watching the man until he could be released into police custody. Leaning against a wall, Flip watched as the hospital staff stitched him up, mildly bored. His mind floated to thoughts of (Y/N) as he stood there, wondering how she was today. He hadn’t been able to pick her up that morning, and he found any day where they broke from their routine less than desirable. He indulged so little, to get by.  

She had laughed down the phone when he had called to let her know, his voice low from the guilt of having to tell her last minute.

“Flip, I can walk-it’s even a lovely morning!”

“I know darling, just sorry I didn’t give you more of a heads up.”

Another soft giggle, “I’ll see you later, won’t I?”

He had perked up at her question, not missing the edge in her voice-did she want to see him as much as he did her?

“Course you will.”

And he had meant it, although he didn’t expect it to be so soon in the day; he had to blink a few times when curtains little ways down the unit were opened and a flash of familiar hair caught his eye as a nurse stepped toward the bed with a tray of supplies.

Flip was across the room in three strides, his eyes set on the profile of his best friend. Sitting on the hospital bed with her feet over the side, (Y/N) appeared, at first, to be perfectly fine. Her head turned as Flip approached, eyes widening at the look on his face. He opened his mouth to ask-

Her left arm was being treated. It was laid out on a pillow next to her, ointment covering the burns in a thick paste. Her hand, wrist and a few patches of forearm appeared to be scalded, the flesh red and angry, some spots even peeling. Flip’s entire body went rigid as he halted next to her, glancing from the nurse, who was working with great care, to (Y/N), who had tear streaks down her soft cheeks, eyes rimmed red. She smiled at him and his heart turned over as concern flooded through him.

“Pretty girl,” The affectionate epithet spilled from his lips without hesitation. He leaned over her, bringing one hand to her shoulder-more to ground himself than anything. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m okay, Flip, I just spilled some coffee-it’s mostly on the back of my hand and arm.” (Y/N) winced then, as the nurse began to gently wrap the arm in loose bandages. His stomach flipped over at the sight of her in pain, bile in his throat.

“You were lucky the coffee wasn’t fresher, dear. These would be much worse,” The nurse corrected sternly, “As it is, you’ve scalded yourself fairly well so you’ll need to repeat this treatment for a few days, I'll send you home with the supplies and instructions.”

Flip gripped (Y/N)’s shoulder tighter, his thumb mindlessly running back and forth in comfort, “How long for her to heal?”

The nurse glanced up at Flip now, her eyes snapping between him and (Y/N) before responding, “A little over a week, I dare say. Best not to have any hot showers or get the burn wet for a few days especially, and you’ll get a prescription from the doctor for some pain relievers, the first few days will be uncomfortable.”

Sighing with only slight relief, Flip glanced over at his quarry, who was being stitched up. Two uniformed officers nodded in his direction. No longer needing to attend to the perp, Flip turned and took a seat next to (Y/N) on the bed, his hands folding together in his lap. Finished her work, the nurse told them to wait for the doctor before sweeping away to another patient.

“How’d you get here?” He asked quietly, holding his breath in fear that she would say she walked.

“Ron was kind enough to drop me off-I insisted I was fine on my own,” (Y/N) glanced up at Flip, brows furrowing together, “How did you know I was here if you didn’t speak to Ron?”

“I brought in a gunshot victim, few beds over. Saw you when the nurse opened the curtain.”

Sighing, (Y/N) looked away, “I’m really okay, Flip. You don’t need to stick arou-“

“I’ll take you home.” His tone left no room for argument, and he smiled inwardly when her lips quirked up slightly at the corners, giving him no response otherwise.

After the doctor made it around and handed over the prescription and care supplies package, she was discharged. Flip and (Y/N) walked in silence to the car. He was working hard to steady himself now, the adrenaline rush he’d had when first spotting her beginning to ebb away.

“You gonna tell me how you managed that?” He nodded at the burn, pulling the car onto the road in the direction of her home. He was surprised when she didn’t immediately respond or begin to laugh at herself. His chest tightened, waiting.

Silent for a few more moments, (Y/N)‘s voice was unexpectedly quiet when she finally responded with a squeak in her voice, “Just pouring coffees and spilled, that’s all.”

He gripped the wheel tighter as the lie hung in the air between them. He frowned, glancing over, “Okay,” He drawled, searching her face and only finding stress. “What really happened?” Flip was grateful for the fact that he was driving slowly down a quiet residential street when her response came out in a mumble.

Hitting the brakes, he looked around at (Y/N) wildly, “What?”

(Y/N) reached out, alarmed, and grabbed Flip’s upper arm, “Flip, do not get so upset, happens more than-“

“Please don’t tell me that more than one person at work has put their hands on you-”

“It happens. I shouldn’t have to explain what it’s like being a woman working in a place full of men. Sometimes they forget themselves and-“

Flip threw the car into park, “And they grab your ass? And in this case, make you burn yourself?” He felt too hot now. Rage building at the idea that some dirtbags in the station had laid their hands on her. He nearly ripped the door off, climbing out of the car in a huff, pulling the fresh air into his lungs. After a pause, he walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and dropped to crouch on the ground in front of (Y/N), whose eyes had followed him, wide and worried.

“Flip, please don’t be mad at me.”

Flip took her uninjured hand into his own, running his thumb gently across the soft flesh, “Pretty girl, I could never be mad at you,” He replied softly, enjoying the way her eyes widened at his second use of the new nickname, “I’m mad for you-what happened ain’t right. Tell me who did it, each time.”

But she shook her head as a small smile appeared, “Thanks, but I’d rather not get arrested for aiding a murder.” (Y/N) turned her hand over in his, squeezing it, “It means a lot, how protective you are. But I’m alright, okay? I promise.”

He didn’t argue, sensing her close off from him and wanting to avoid upsetting her further. He returned the pressure to her hand, “Let me take you home.”

—

To say that Flip was in a thundering mood when he returned to the station would be an understatement. It was clear that the uniformed officers who had brought in the wounded robber had conveyed to the Sarge that Flip knew of (Y/N)’s injuries; he was waiting in the lobby when Flip ripped open the doors and stormed inside.

“Flip, I don’t know who did it so don’t bother asking.”

He stopped a few paces away from his boss, his chest heaving with the effort it took not to punch the wall, “She said it’s happened more than once!” His voice was cracked, gruff.

“Ron mentioned that she said something to him to that effect-listen, Zimmerman,” The Sarge pinched the bridge of his nose, “If we find out who it was, we can have a chat with whoever, okay? But don’t go-“

Flip huffed, “Yeah, alright.” He nodded curtly before stepping around the Sarge and making his way to the bullpen. When he burst through the doors, his eyes snapped across every set of eyes that met his, looking for a guilty face. Jimmy stood, meeting Flip’s eyes and nodding toward Ron.

Sitting heavily into his desk chair, Flip scooted it up to Ron’s desk and set his elbows down, staring his friend in the eyes as he wrapped up a phone call. He could feel Jimmy standing behind him. When Ron set the receiver down, he held up a finger to cut Flip off before he could more than open his mouth.

“He’s already gone for the day; I told him to leave.”

Flip snarled, “Why the hell did you-?”

Ron exchanged a knowing look with Jimmy, which did nothing to calm Flip, “I know it’s ridiculous for us to have assumed you’d have a violent response to finding out-but seeing as you carry a loaded weapon we thought it best not to tempt fate.”

Flip gave a humourless laugh, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. “Just tell me who.” He had rushed back to the station to deal with the situation, he was getting impatient.

“David Cole,” Ron replied, his lips pursed in distaste.

Fucking David Cole. No one liked the man, a low-level detective who simply grated the nerves of every person he met. “Did he do it the other times?”

“That I don’t know, I just happened to see what he did today.”

This piqued Flip’s interest, “And what exactly did you see?”

Ron sighed wearily, “She was pouring coffee-not for us, maybe the Chief I don’t know-and he walked by and said something to her. Didn’t like how he’d leaned in closer when he did, so I was watching and then he-well, pinched, and she nearly jumped out of her skin and coffee went fucking everywhere.”

Flip took a long drag, considering how Cole had chosen one of the few times Flip wasn’t around to be a complete creep in front of witnesses. “Thank you for taking her to the hospital.” His ears were thrumming from the blood rushing through him.

Ron nodded, “Of course.”

While the rest of the day went by in a haze of roiling emotions for Flip, the one thing he had settled on was not to completely obliterate David Cole the next time he laid eyes on him. It was his first instinct; however, the panicked expression on (Y/N)‘s face in the car earlier gave him pause. He had no intention of upsetting her further.

Flip gave her a call at the end of the day to check-in. She answered after a few rings, sounding a little breathless, “Hello?” Relief already spreading through him at the sound of her voice. His own was low, intimate, when he spoke.

“Darling, just seeing how you’re doing.”

He could feel her smile as she spoke, “Hey detective, I’m just fine thank you,” She paused a moment, “How are you, Flip?”

Flip smiled, his heart rate picking up at the soft way her voice wrapped around his name, “Distracted,” He admitted, “But hearing your voice eases my worries.”

“Yeah? You know, Flip, I’m a big girl-you don’t need to worry so much.”

He opened his mouth to reply when he heard a timer go off on her end of the line. Her guilt evident in the way she took a surprised breath. "Shit."

“Darling, are you baking?”

—

“Fucking shit.” He muttered angrily, shoving the stack of papers he was searching through back into their case file; he was working on the follow up of a case from the year before and could not, for the life of him, find the coroners reports or his notes. Knocking his knuckles against the desk, he considered his next options. The only place he could think he hadn’t gone through was also the last place he wanted to have to search; the file room.

Standing up with a grunt, he stormed across the bullpen and down the hallway that led to the file room. Walking in, he was happy to see that it was empty and made his way to a back corner where he could stand for a few moments and clear his head. Leaning against the cold stone wall, head tilted back, Flip tried emptying his thoughts. 

This worked somewhat, however now he was noticing the pain in his right shoulder-a stiffness he’d developed from an altercation with a suspect a few months prior, where the man had slammed into Flip’s side to attempt a tackle on him. Expecting it, he was able to deflect, however, the shoulder pulled just a bit too far. It flared up occasionally now, a sign of his age.

Thinking of age had Flip’s thoughts wander back to (Y/N), their age gap. Now that they were such close friends, he hardly ever remembered they were nearly ten years apart in age, but if he ran out of other excuses not to tell her how he felt, he could always fall back on that knowledge. He began to ruminate on this, heaving a sigh.

She had come back to work after only two days off, her hand delicately wrapped but otherwise in good spirits. Word of Flip’s angry reaction had spread around the station, giving Cole plenty of heads up to avoid him at all costs. Grateful to not have run across the fucker so far, and sticking to his promise to himself not to seek out Cole and pummel him. (Y/N) and Flip hadn’t discussed that he knew who had pinched her, and she seemed content to avoid the topic.

Still, anger was regularly coursing through him now. He felt trapped in himself, wanting desperately to move-in any direction-that could pull him out of the torturous limbo of being in love with his best friend. Flip tensed, hands balling into fists, as his mind replayed every smile, every hug, every-

“You alright, detective?” Flip started, his eyes flying open at the sound of (Y/N)‘s voice breaking the silence. To both his pleasure and dismay, she was standing a few feet away from Flip. Holding a small stack of paperwork in her uninjured arm and frowning at him in concern. She was wearing the same dress as the day they had met.

It was his favourite.

“Oh, hi,” He breathed, his heart still racing, “You scared the hell out of me, darling.”

She adjusted the papers carefully, cocking a brow at him, “Were you meditating, hippie?” Her eyes swept over him, taking in his tense stance and furrowed brow.

Flip pushed away from the wall and run his sweaty palms down his legs, “Headache snuck up on me, that’s all, just needed some quiet,” He glanced at the papers in her arms, “You need help with those?”

She followed his eyes, “Actually, these are to help you, here.” She held them out to him with a small smile. He could still see the concern in her eyes as she watched him closely.

Flip frowned, “What for?” When he reached out for them, he took care to avoid her hand before looking back up, confused. She shrugged, gesturing at the stack.

“I know you’re working on the 1978 Fox Avenue case-I pulled all of these for you earlier, should have all your notes and the reports from the coroner. Took a little longer to find than I’d hoped, or I’d have had them to you sooner.”

Flip gazed at her for a beat. Setting the paperwork down on top of a file cabinet next to him, he stepped toward (Y/N) and pulled her into a fierce hug, his arms cautiously draped around her shoulders. Her head barely came to his chest, where she rested her cheek, hugging him back. “Pretty girl, how the hell do you do that?” He wasn’t even sure if she’d heard him, his voice low. After a moment, he felt her chuckle against him.

“Do what, exactly?” She sounded a little breathless.

Flip released her, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. Her eyes had followed his motion, dropping to meet his gaze when he lowered his hand.

Flip gestured at the papers, “You just, know exactly what I need without even asking!” He cursed himself for ending the embrace.

She was giving him a soft smile now, eyes heavy, “I guess I just have a sense for you, detective”.  

“Is that how you found me back here?”

(Y/N) shifted at his words, biting her lip, “Mm, something like that,” She murmured, “You know, Flip, I’m not just a pretty face.”

Flip gazed at her in surprise, brows pulling together in confusion, “Of course you aren’t darling, why the hell do you say that?”

“I heard some officer say it about me this morning after I brought around those brownies,” She explained, Flip’s eyes darkening at her words. “And I don’t care what he thinks, but I need to know you don’t think it.” (Y/N) glanced up at Flip nervously.

“I have never thought you were just a pretty face, (Y/N)-“

She cut him off, “Then why do you refuse to open up to me about what’s been going on with you lately?” She frowned, her arms crossing.

Flip watched her for a moment. Of course, he’d known she had noticed his mood had dropped over the previous few weeks, but she hadn’t said much, just made a few jokes here and there to try and pull him out of it. But now, he could see that it was bothering her more than her carefree nature had let on, another instance, no doubt, of her need to care for others. To care for him?

Taking a step closer, Flip tentatively raised his hands to her face, barely touching her along the jaw to tilt her head back. She had frozen in place, staring up at him with wide eyes that he searched for a moment, “Oh, pretty girl,” He murmured, and her expression flashed in delight at the nickname, which was about so much more than her face, “I am so sorry I’ve been taking out my temper on you, I promise I’m alright, just haven’t been sleeping. It’s my damn shoulder.”

“You promise? You aren't keeping something from me? ”

Her breath washed across his face and Flip shivered, his mind no longer in control. His hold tightened on her face, drinking in the way her eyes widened as she stood still in his grip.  Before he could do more than let his eyes fall from hers to her delicious lips, a voice cut through the air.

“Zimmerman, you in here?”

Immediately, Flip and (Y/N) sprang back from one another in surprise. David Cole, of all people, had been the one to speak, from somewhere near the entrance to the file room. Dragging his eyes away from his best friend, he called back, “Yup, grabbing some files.” His hands balled at his sides now. Frustrated at being interrupted and angry at himself for what he had been about to do.

“Alright, Sarge moved the meeting up so he’s looking for you, starts in ten!”

After a brief pause, (Y/N) took a few steps backwards, looking away, her skin was flushed, words breathless, “I’d better get my note pad for the meeting. I’ll see you there, Flip.” She started to hurry away before he could reply.

He watched her retreat silently, trying to still his beating heart and not daring to move.

Did you enjoy this chapter? Please consider reblogging or commenting—likes are basically just a bookmark!

Tag list ✨ @tashastrange89 @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @joscelyn02

[shi-daisy]

Mutual Enduring

Hello everyone! Today on the wavewave agenda we have a whump two-shot! With a side of humanformers (they're still from cybetron and age like in canon but they look and act human) Slightly warning for mentions of torture and some sexy stuff.

Continuity: Fan continuity (mostly a mix of IDW 1 and TFP)

@wavewave-week

Wavewave Week- Day 4- Power/Affection

He hated the feeling of cold metal against his skin, the needles, the darkness, the restraints that caused his arms and legs to go numb, but most of all he hated remembering.

The memories of the night the empurata was performed on him were memories he purpusely supressed, the only thing m he couldn't be rid off was the pain, at least not without medication.

Both he and Breakdown had been captured by MECH, neither could manage to escape or free themselves. It was an illogical outcome, that humans had gotten the best of two Cybertronians, but alas his current predicament was proof that it was possible.

He didn't know where Breakdown was, or if he was still alive, but if he managed to escape he'd look for him. He owed the man that much after he took a hit for him.

"Shockwave!" A female voice called out. He heard an alarm sound along with footsteps and gunfire. Just what was happening outside his room.

His was fading in and out of consciousness, but he could see the wall falling apart. Some people had taken down the door.

The voice from before called him again, it was louder and more distinct, as he could now recognize.

"Monochrome?" He muttered. His throat was raspy from dehydration and he couldn't speak properly.

"Yes it's me. Don't worry we're here to get you out."

"Breakdown, is he...?"

"He's safe, he's the one who told us you were still here and alive." he recognized Knockout's distinct voice as the medic began undoing his restraints. He didn't sound too chirpy however. "Just what did they do to you?!"

He couldn't answer, but deduced the man was asking about the peeled skin of his arms, or the scars on his chest. Even if the room was more illuminated now, he still couldn't properly discern the silouttes of his comrades.

"We'll carry you out. Just hold on until we get to the Nemesis. Please Shockwave! Please try to hold on!"

He could feel her tears falling on him. Why? Why would she cry for him? Why would anyone cry for him? They both carried him away from the building, setting the place ablaze as they escaped.

Outside it was nighttime, the stars looked so tiny from here, or maybe that was his vision failing him again.

There were more voices in the distance, getting closer. Obsidian, Strika, even Breakdown was there although he sounded much different. There was one voice however he was not expecting, at least not in such a desperate manner.

Soundwave's melodic voice was so strained, he was asking a myriad of questions in rapid fire to both Knockout and Monochrome. The medics had to calm him down as everyone finally headed towards the arriving Nemesis.

Shockwave's conciousness was slipping, the last thing her remembered was holding onto Soundwave's hand as he was weekend away to the medbay.

***

Soundwave has never felt as powerless as he did at this moment. Well, except perhaps for the time he found Shockwave after his empurata.

Both tragedies had been similar. The man he loved was covered in blood and in desperate need of care. The first tragedy he'd survived, but forgotten who he was before it, what he had before being turned into an emotionless man who simply cared for logic. The second was still unfolding, and all Soundwave could do was pray that he survived. Even if he changed once more, even if that small spark of remembrance was gone.

"Why is it taking so long?!" He asked, throwing the glass he was holding to the wall, where it shattered to bits.

Rumble and Frenzy both looked surprised but didn't question it, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw had fallen asleep, while Ravage and Megatron had just arrived at the scene.

"Soundwave stop!"

He froze upon hearing Megatron yell. The tall man also looked to be worried, but no one could tell for certain.

"I'm concerned for Shockwave's health as well but stressing like this won't help anyone. He's receiving medical attention, all that's left to do now is to wait.

When he's well, he'll need support, especially yours. You must be in good health as well."

He nodded, still nervous and mad. His superior must've noticed as he pulled him into a hug. While they were close he knew Megatron was not the type to be affectionate in public. He returned the hug, holding back the tears and simply letting himself go.

It too a while for the two to separate. Ravege then took over comfort duties and purred as he nuzzled his friend. Soundwave picked him up and pet him as he waited outside the medbay. After what seemed like an eternity, Monochrome came out of the room, her scrubs were covered in blood but she was smiling.

"He's okay. His organs were fine and all we had to do was place some skin grafts and rehydration serum. You may see him now if you like, he'll be up soon." The dark skinned woman yawned. "I however will be going to bed."

"Go, I'll join you soon enough." Megatron told her.

She nodded and left. His superior turned to look at him. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, it's fine. Go with your wife, I'm sure she's tired after all of this, and so are you. Thank you sir, and please thank Monochrome on my behalf too.

Megatron nodded before leaving. Rumble and Frenzy took care of the pets before he headed inside, hoping Shockwave wouldn't forget even more.

***

The two people he first saw were Knockout and Breakdown. The medic was changing his gloves and coat while Breakdown spoke to him from his bed. His tanned skin was covered in bandages, and he wore an eyepatch. He soon noticed that Shockwave was awake.

"Shockwave! You're awake!" Breakdown beamed. "I'm glad you're okay. It seems like we'll be matching now." He joked as he pointed to his eyepatch.

How? How could he endure such torture and still be smiling like that? It was one of the many questions his research wouldn't answer.

"It's satisfactory to know you were rescued and alive. Thank you for your concern Breakdown."

"Anytime."

Knockout walked over to his side. "May I give you a quick check up now that you're awake? I have to know if you have any lingering pain."

He would've laughed but he didn't have the energy to be sarcastic at the moment, he simply nodded and let the medic examine him.

Someone else came into the room, it was Soundwave. His blue hair was a mess and his eyes looked as if he'd been crying. Neither Breakdown nor Knockout seemed surprised.

"Medically you're fine. Don't take off these bandages in at least two days, they're waterproof and soft so they'll allowed you to sleep and bathe, if you don't have anything else you need me to look at you should be good to go."

Shockwave nodded and tried to stand, but he would've fallen down face first had Soundwave not picked him up. "I'll carry you."

He didn't protest as the other man carried him away or when they arrived at Soundwave's room instead of his lab.

"I volunteered to care for you. Tomorrow you can go to the lab, but tonight you should rest. I'll ready a bath for you and make you food."

He stayed silent and seated on Soundwave's bed as the blue haired man ran around the room. He put his sons and pets to bed and was now serving him dinner.

Why was he always so caring? The two of them knew eachother for milenia, Soundwave was the only person he remembered after the shadowplay and empurata experiments performed on him, yet no matter how hard he tried to remember he couldn't recall anything else. Were they once close? He couldn't say, but that seemed like the most likely hypothesis.

"Food's ready."

"Soundwave."

"Yes? Is anything wrong? Do you want something else? Maybe you'd rather take the bath first, sorry I can reheat the soup after, no worries."

"No no! I'm fine. I just ...I must ask you a question."

"Yes?"

"Why do you care so much for me? Our fields of work are vastly different, as are our social circles and our personalities yet you constantly look out for me...You're also the only person I can remember from my old life. Why is that? Can you give me an answer?"

"I can, but not now. We can talk before we sleep. I promise."

He decided to trust his comrade. After eating and taking a bath he was ready to speak with Soundwave. He sat beside him on the bed waiting for him to speak.

Soundwave was trembling, as if he was terrified of speaking. Shockwave was not good at dealing with emotional people but somehow he knew what to do.

His hands fell upon Soundwave's fair face, their red gaze was full of tears but he didn't look away. Soundwave placed his hand over his tenderly.

It seemed he was finally ready to answer him.

***

"I love you. I've loved you for centuries. Before the war happened and you were tortured, we were sparkmates... Then you were taken from me, and I thought I'd spend my life pinning for that version of you, but I didn't, because I love you still. Even if you don't remember, even if you're more alligned with logic than emotion, even if you don't love me back. I still love you Shockwave."

It wasn't in his nature to be surprised, but he would've never expected this answer.

It made sense, he'd seen how the couples of the Nemesis acted, or even human pairs. The fact that despite their distance Soundwave was so caring towards him, or that he'd be the only one his mind refused to forget. Even now, he seemed to know what the other wanted without voicing it.

Soundwave thought he'd faint when he felt Shockwave's lips over his. He'd always been a greedy kisser, even in their youth. He'd sometimes surprise Soundwave with a deep kiss before parting ways, other times he'd simply seduced him with his soft voice and clever hands.

After letting go they both took a moment to intensely memorize the other's face. Shockeave hadn't changed much save for his missing eye, which was now made of glass, and the scars upon his neck and arms that hadn't faded in centuries. Soundwave looked almost the same, but his built was stronger and he was now as tall as Shockwave.

"You taste as good as I remembered." He whispered. "I've missed you."

"Soundwave, are you certain I'm what you desire? There are other cons who'd give you the affection you crave, the affection you deserve. I don't know if I'll ever be the man you first fell in love with."

"Shockwave, I'm certain that you're the only one I want. Whether you're a kind senator or a serious scientist or a combination of both. I love every aspect of you."

That was all the confirmation he needed. He kissed Soundwave again, this time the blue haired man seemed to melt into the gesture, giving all control to him. Shockwave smirked as he gently bit Soundwave's bottom lip.

"Mmh! Seems like you haven't forgotten that."

"I've bitten you before?"

"Many times. You've left lots of marks. Not that I'm complaining."

Soundwave gently placed Shockwave upon the pillows. "And while I love your bites, I think I'd prefer spoiling you with kisses."

He let Soundwave do as he pleased. As promised the spymaster kissed his lips, cheeks, neck and even his chest. After three days of torture, this was exactly what he'd needed.

"Soundwave, let me kiss you too."

His heart raced when Shockeave pulled him into a kiss. Soundwave felt the scientist hands tangled in his hair, he kissed every inch he could get his lips on, and wouldn't let go until they were both breathless.

Sleep was taking over for them both. Soundwave pulled Shockwave close, careful not to worsen his injuries. "Are you comfortable?"

"Very much so."

"Good."

"I could tell you craved this. Your desperate touch, it breaks my heart."

"You don't need to worry about that, Shockwave. I'm fine now that you're with me.

I'll take care of you. And once you're better we'll hunt down the humans who hurt you and Breakdown. I promise."

"That's comforting to hear. But all I desire now is to sleep by your side. I intend to give you more affection tomorrow."

Soundwave smiled. "I'd like that. Goodnight dear."

"Goodnight."

Shockwave was not used to sleeping, much less with another person by his side, but the beating of Soundwave's heart and the feel of his arms around him was enough to grant him the most peaceful sleep he had in centuries.

[sdvvillagers]

Fic - Gus

Word Count: 4,475

Summary: Gus has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Notes:  Thank you to @purpleandgreen13​ (purpleandgreen on AO3) for coming up with this prompt, it was such a fun and inspiring one to work with!  You’re the best! ^.^

From the moment Gus woke up, he should have known that today was going to be an awful day.  Water dripped from the ceiling of his room, plopping onto his forehead and waking him with a start.  The rainstorm forecasted for the day had begun, revealing a leak in the roof that Gus hadn’t known was there until the rain unceremoniously woke him from his slumber.  After clambering out of bed in shock and confusion, Gus wiped the sleep from his eyes and looked upward as another drop of rain landed right in his eye.

“Son of a-,” Gus mumbled, giving himself a wide berth from the bed to avoid getting wet any further.

His sheets had already soaked up some of the moisture, but the last thing he needed was a soaking wet mattress.  Gus rushed to the storage room to grab an empty bucket to collect as much rain water as he could until Robin could come by to fix his roof.  Hopefully it wouldn’t be long or else he’d be back and forth all day dumping the bucket.  It was expected to rain heavily all day long.

The next sign that Gus’ day would be terrible arrived only moments later when Gus stepped on a small puddle of water that had dripped onto the floor, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward.  He slammed his back hard against the footboard of his bed, causing him to yelp out in pain.  His already bad back was now throbbing in pain.  Wincing, Gus rose from the floor and hobbled across the room to at least change out of his wet pajamas and into something warm and dry.

Upon opening his closet, Gus reached for a plain t-shirt and his favorite orange jacket.  It wasn’t until the jacket was on and he reached down to zip it up that he noticed the huge rip in the sleeve of his jacket.  It was likely Emily could mend it for him, but it was another rough blow to his already awful morning.  Gus elected for one of his lesser preferred jackets instead.

Being awake far earlier than he was used to, Gus shuffled out of his room into the kitchen of the saloon.  Usually he wouldn’t wake up until almost lunch time due to being up late every night for his business, but with the rain waking him up so early, he figured he would at least fix himself a meal.  It wasn’t often he ate breakfast anyway, so treating himself to a complete breakfast and a glass of homemade orange juice seemed a decent enough consolation prize.  Robin’s shop wouldn’t even open for another twenty minutes anyway.

Gus stepped into the walk-in refrigerator in the kitchen and began pulling the ingredients he needed to make his breakfast.  Once he had everything in-hand, he turned to leave and heard a high-pitched squeak.  For a moment, it sounded like a mouse.  It was enough of a distraction for Gus to momentarily forget where he was or what he was doing and the armful of ingredients he was carrying fell to the floor as Gus accidentally dropped them.  The squeak, it turned out, came from a squeaky floorboard he had stepped on and wasn’t a rodent at all.  Gus almost wished it was, at least it would have justified his flustered response.  Instead, all he was left with was no ingredients for breakfast and a huge mess to clean while his back was out of sorts.

It took over a half hour for Gus to completely clean up the spill, the cracked eggs seeped down into every crevice and cranny of the walk-in fridge.  Not to mention, it was a very chilly ordeal to clean a mess inside of such a cold space.  Gus had lost all track of time while he was cleaning the mess in the fridge and all thoughts of calling Robin to repair his roof had left his mind until the job was done.  By the time he realized it, he glanced at the clock and saw that she’d been open for fifteen minutes already.  He hoped he wasn’t too late.

“Hello there, you’ve reached the Bennetts!” Demetrius’ voice answered cheerfully when Gus finally picked up the phone to call.

“Hey Demetrius, I’m in a bit of a bind,” Gus began, getting right to his point.  There was no time for pleasantries today.  “The roof of the saloon is leaking.  Right over my bed, actually.  Any chance Robin can head out here and fix it?  I’ve got a bucket under there right now until she can make it.”

“Oh no, I wish I could say she could but she’s actually out of the house right now,” Demetrius answered apologetically.  “Her parents called her first thing this morning, her father is ill and she needed to head out to help her mother.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Gus replied sincerely.  As unfortunate as his situation was, he really was sorry to hear that there were health issues in Robin’s family.  It was a situation where Gus couldn’t in all conscience be mad at Robin for being unavailable despite his desperation.

Once he hung up with Demetrius, Gus heaved a long, heavy sigh.  Someone in town had to be able to help him, there was no way he could put it off.  There weren’t many other people in town Gus could think to ask, but he started at the top of the list and worked his way down.  Sebastian seemed like a decent possibility given that his mother was the very woman Gus needed for the job, but Seb made it quite clear that he had nothing to do with her work at all.  Shane was next on the list, he was actually quite the handyman, but the call went straight to voicemail.  Gus had to assume he was working at Joja today and had his phone silenced.  Alex at the very least was strong, but as Gus suspected he had no knowledge of how to fix a leaky roof.  Gus was even desperate enough to call Lewis who had been the town’s handyman before he was mayor, but of course his old age made him too hesitant to help Gus out.  Not that Gus could blame him, of course, but it was maddening how limited his options were.  He’d have to call a company in Grampleton or even in the city which would end up costing him at least triple what Robin would charge.

One very expensive phone call later, Gus managed to get an appointment with a roofer from Grampleton for 4:00pm , right when the dinner rush would be starting.  As anticipated, the flat fee was already more expensive, plus additional fees for travel and late notice.  Until they arrived, Gus would have to keep shuffling buckets around to catch as much water as he could.

By the time the roofer was sorted, Gus realized that there wasn’t much time left until the saloon opened at noon for lunch.  Having dropped a substantial amount of ingredients earlier in the morning, Gus knew a trip to Pierre’s was necessary.  It wasn’t far to Pierre’s store but in this rainstorm, Gus knew he’d need every protection even for such a short walk.  After another trip to his room for his raincoat, rain boots, and umbrella, Gus was ready to face the elements.  With his back still aching, Gus crossed town square slowly and carefully towards Pierre’s shop.  The last thing he needed was to try and rush to get out of the rain and fall once more.  He chuckled to himself at the thought that Doctor Harvey would commend him for choosing safety first.

The trip to Pierre’s was just as frustrating as the rest of his morning had been.  It took him quite some time just to get out of his wet rain gear and Pierre snapped at him for leaving a puddle by the entrance even though it wasn’t exactly something he could help in a rainstorm.  Pierre’s selection wasn’t great either, he was out of stock on a few ingredients that Gus needed so Gus would have to tweak his menu slightly to accommodate.  He knew he would get an earful that night when Shane couldn’t order pepper poppers.  When Gus went to checkout, he realized he’d forgotten his money at home in his rush and had to practically beg Pierre to let him pay at a later time without having to go all the way back for his money.  It wasn’t until he started to remind Pierre of his own ongoing tab at the saloon, within earshot of Caroline, that Pierre quickly shushed him and agreed that Gus could stop by the following day to pay for the groceries.

The short walk home was plagued with its own difficulties.  Gus had three bags of groceries and with one hand holding his umbrella, the other had to carry three full shopping bags while trying to keep them dry under the umbrella.  By the time he arrived back at the saloon, his hand was aching from carrying the weight of the groceries which had gotten slightly wet despite his best efforts.  Even Gus himself had gotten wet, the jacket he’d put on that morning had a drenched collar and water had gotten into his rain boots and soaked his socks through.  Another change of clothes for the day.

Lunch prep went fine enough other than a small slice of a finger while chopping onions.  On any other day Gus would consider it a terrible misfortune but today, it was nothing compared to everything else that had happened so far.  It wasn’t serious enough to warrant a visit to Doctor Harvey, thank goodness.  Nothing a bandage couldn’t fix.  It did make the rest of his lunch prep awkward and it certainly hurt, but the pain at least distracted him a bit from his aching back.

Because of the rain, the lunch “rush” wasn’t exactly a rush at all, which was fine with Gus on a day like today.  Only a few people stopped by for lunch, mostly to-go orders.  Ordinarily he’d feel bored with nothing to do or worried by a lack of paying customers, but he welcomed the chance to take a break after his busy morning.  His back was still aching from his fall and his finger throbbed uncomfortably under its bandage.  The worst he could say about the lunch crowd was that any time a customer entered the saloon, it meant drying the rain puddles left behind in their wake once they left.  Of course there was also the constant back and forth from the bar to his room to switch out buckets, a task he had to do almost every thirty minutes.

At 3:30 he could hear the door of the saloon open while he was in his bedroom, switching out yet another bucket under the leaky roof.  By now his back was on fire from the constant back and forth, lifting heavy buckets, and mopping up the puddles of water in his room and at the entrance of the saloon.  When he heard the door open, he heaved a sigh of relief knowing that help was on the way.  It was no doubt Emily arriving for her evening shift.  Gus was hoping she could take on a bit of the work tonight to give him some reprieve.  If he could manage to only get away with cooking for the night, he’d be happy.  Yet when Gus reentered the saloon, he was surprised to find Haley standing near the doorway looking around for him.

“Oh, there you are!” Haley huffed, sounding incredibly impatient and irritated.  “Honestly, we thought you were dead, you haven’t answered your phone all day.”

While Haley stood in the entrance, arms folded in annoyance, Gus rushed over to his phone to see what was the matter.  He didn’t have a cell phone as he’d never really had a need for one so he relied on a landline at the bar for any of his phone calls.  Gus groaned when he noticed he hadn’t properly set the handset back down on the charging dock and it had run out of battery.

“Geez, kid, I’m sorry,” Gus sighed, setting the phone back on the dock to start charging.  Haley huffed impatiently in response.

“I had to head all the way over here in the pouring rain just to tell you that Emily can’t come in tonight, she’s sick,” Haley went on, arms still folded angrily.  “First she’s got me running over here for her, then off to Pierre’s to pick up a few things, then over to the clinic for some medicine.  Ugh, this is the worst day ever.”

Gus had to try very hard not to burst out laughing at this response, if Haley’d known the kind of day he was having, she certainly wouldn’t consider a few errands ‘the worst day ever’.  Instead Gus swallowed the urge to rant and smiled kindly in return.  Kind smiles were his specialty, after all.

“Sorry to hear Emily’s sick,” Gus remarked in concern.  “Need me to send you with any hot soup?  Ginger ale?”

“We got it covered,” Haley replied.  “I’m just gonna stock up on cans of soup at Pierre’s, it’s fine.”

Gus cringed knowing that his employee was sick at home and would be having canned soup as her meal, it was something that he would go out of his way to stop if it were any other day.  But between the roof repairs, working solo for the night, and the numerous aches and pains he was experiencing, he begrudgingly accepted that canned soup would have to do.  Maybe on another day he would have to make it up to Emily some other way.

“Tell Emily I hope she feels better soon but that she shouldn’t worry,” Gus went on, his kind smile still plastered onto his face.  “I can handle things here.”

Haley left with a brief wave leaving Gus to sigh heavily the moment she was gone.  He didn’t entirely believe that he could handle things on his own, but there wasn’t much of a choice.  Business still had to continue with or without help.

4:00 came and went with no sign of the roofers.  Gus was getting anxious awaiting their arrival, hoping they wouldn’t cancel on him.  The buckets were filling up quickly as the rain poured down and now he was emptying full, heavy buckets every twenty minutes.  It didn’t help that by 4:00, customers were already starting to pile in.  While the lunch rush was light from people wanting to avoid being out in the rain, it seemed there was the opposite sentiment at dinnertime.  Maybe everyone was sick of being cooped up at home, maybe they didn’t feel like cooking, maybe they liked the ambience of dining in a cozy saloon during a rainstorm.  Either way, business started to pick up quickly and Gus had to strategize every minute to make sure no time, energy, or effort was wasted.  He’d find himself taking orders one minute, slicing vegetables another, running to the back to empty and replace a bucket, then back to refill a drink, then off to the burners to cook a meal, all while coping with a bandaged finger and injured back.  It was chaos.  He’d long since stopped trying to squeeze drying the floor into the mix, instead he setup his wet floor sign and hoped for the best.

Just before 6:30, Gus could hear a clang outside followed by the sound of loud thuds overhead.  The roofers must have arrived and already set to work.  The activity on the roof caused many of the patrons to stare up at the ceiling in annoyance, it certainly wasn’t the most pleasant sound and a lot of the louder thuds and clangs were drowning out the jukebox.  Gus could already see on the faces of his patrons that they were irritated and for that matter, he was irritated as well.  Of course the work had to be done, but it was hard to focus with so many distractions.  He found himself getting side-tracked in the middle of what he was doing and as a result, the orders were coming out more slowly.  This was only causing further irritation among the bar patrons.  Thankfully everyone seemed to realize many of the disadvantages Gus was working with between a bandaged finger, no extra employee to help, and a loud series of bangs outside beyond his control so no one ever complained to him.  Still, he could sense the overall tension in the room and it only added pressure to an already stressful day.  Luckily when Gus broke the news to Shane that pepper poppers weren’t an option, Shane opened his mouth to whine but stopped upon seeing the look on Gus’ face.  Though Gus was ordinarily relaxed and downright jolly, he was sure that today his bad day was reflected in his mood.

It was only a half hour or so later that the doors of the saloon opened and in walked two men Gus had never seen before, absolutely drenched.  It must be the roofers.  Their entrance alone brought a massive puddle at the doorstep of the saloon and as they walked across the room, they left a trail of rainwater in their wake.  Gus would be lucky if no one slipped and fell and slapped him with a lawsuit.

“Well we did a temporary fix for now to stop the leaking, but we’ll have to come back when it’s dry to fix it properly,” one of the men explained.  “Though truth be told, that roof’s definitely seen better days.  How old is it?”

“32 years?” Gus answered uncertainly, screwing up his face in thought to try and recall how old the roof could be.

“I guessed as much,” the other man replied.  “We can fix your roof, but your best bet will just be to replace it.”

Gus’ stomach clenched at this news.  Of course.  Of course on one of the worst days he’s had, he now had to face the prospect of replacing the roof of the saloon.  Even at Robin’s rate it would still be a costly project.  Gus shook his head wearily and looked up to the roofers, not even trying to attempt his usual smile any longer.

“Well thanks for patching it up for the time being,” Gus sighed.  “How much do I owe ya?”

“We’ll mail you the bill in three to five business days,” the first man answered.  A bill that would no doubt include the travel surcharge as well as a late notice surcharge all to do a very temporary patch job.

When the roofers left, Gus stared down at the massive puddle of water in the middle of the saloon and spaced out for a moment, disconnecting entirely from everything going on around him.  The day started poorly enough, but it never let up.  It was the kind of day that beats you down until you just want to call it quits and crawl back into bed to start fresh in the morning.  Gus didn’t often have bad days and when he did, his general optimism was enough to make the best of it.  Today, there was nothing at all to make the best of, no silver lining he could find and no positive twist he could spin.  Today was horrible.  It only got worse when he snapped out of his brief moment of calm to the smell of smoke.  The arrival of the roofers had snatched Gus’ attention from the fish he was cooking on the stove and now the filet was smoking in the pan, most definitely burnt by this point.  Gus rushed to turn the burner off and removed the fish from the heat in a panic.  Just when he felt seconds away from a total breakdown, he could hear a soft, gentle voice to his right.

“Gus… are you okay?”

Doctor Harvey tilted his head with an expression of concern, clearly noticing Gus’ flustered state.  As usual whenever Gus was going through personal problems or having a rough day, he attempted to suck it up and put on a warm, welcoming face for his patrons.  Many of them came to the saloon for an escape from their own problems, they certainly didn’t need to contend with his.  But the moment Gus even tried to plaster a smile onto his face, he could feel his shoulders shaking as a swell of emotion took over.  He was moments away from bursting into tears.

“I…” Gus began in a shaky voice, still grasping at the chance that he could play it off but ultimately failing.  “No… no, I’m not.”

Harvey very suddenly looked on high alert and his friendly concern became far more serious.

“Are you in need of immediate medical attention?” Harvey asked suddenly, already rising from his barstool.  As awful as his day had been, Gus couldn’t help but chuckle at Harvey’s reaction.  He couldn’t explain why, but it was amusing how quickly Harvey was ready to jump into action if needed.

“No, no, nothing like that, Doctor H,” Gus replied, shaking his head.  “Just a bad day.  I won’t bend your ear, I’ll… I’ll handle it.  Sorry for burning your fish, I’ll get started on another one right away.”

Before Gus could even turn around, however, he noticed Harvey shake his head vigorously and pull out the barstool next to him.  Though Harvey was often quiet and reserved, preferring to keep to himself whenever he was at the saloon, in this moment he smiled a kind and welcoming smile as he patted the seat next to him.

“That won’t be necessary,” Harvey replied.  “I can’t in good conscience contribute to your hectic night tonight.  If you’d like to join me and talk about it you’re more than welcome to or you can take a seat behind the bar to unwind for a bit.  Either way, you need a break.  Doctor’s orders.”

It was strange how quickly all eyes in the saloon were on Gus the moment he stepped away from the bar, walked around the counter, and took a seat on the barstool beside Harvey.  Everyone had only ever seen him behind the bar taking orders, filling drinks, or preparing food.  Gus couldn’t recall a time he sat on the customer’s side of the bar during business hours and clearly no one else could either.  A collective silence filled the room and no one even tried to hide their stares.  Once Gus was seated next to Harvey, it was surprisingly Shane who spoke up first.

“You doin’ alright there, Gus?” Shane asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Just need a breather,” Gus replied as calmly as he was capable of.  Clearly it wasn’t that calmly, though, because now all the patrons in the saloon looked just as concerned as Harvey had moments earlier.

“Is everything okay?” Marnie asked from the back of the saloon.

“Gus, what’s wrong?” Leah asked, dropping the sketch she was working on to step closer to the bar.

“Lookin’ a little pale there, Gussy, you’re scarin’ me,” Pam remarked, worry lining her face as she stared at Gus.

It seemed all of the attention in the saloon was on Gus at the moment and he wasn’t sure whether that was making this whole ordeal better or worse than it had been.  Gus wasn’t used to the spotlight on him, he was used to being the one shining the spotlight on others, encouraging them to open up and talk about whatever they needed to talk about.  Whether it was gushing over good news, venting over a rough day, or asking for advice from a friend, Gus was always there to support his patrons.  It was odd to have the tables flipped and be the one in need of support.

“Nothin’, nothin’, it’s just… it’s just a rough day,” Gus tried to explain, but no one was buying it.

“Take a load off, Gus,” Marnie offered, pulling her chair out to give Gus a more comfortable seat than a barstool.

“I’ll grab some ice water, you should stay hydrated,” Harvey remarked, already heading to the back of the bar to prepare a glass.

“Want something to eat?” Pierre offered, bringing his plate of fried calamari over.  “I’ve only had a few, you can take the rest.”

Leah hadn’t said another word, she had already started drying the large puddle in the middle of the saloon with towels she had found behind the bar.  Within minutes, Gus was seated in one chair with his feet propped up on another, ice water and food on the table next to him, in the middle of a newly dried saloon.  His patrons surrounded him, close enough to show their support but not so close that it was suffocating, and all looked at him expectantly.

“What else do you need?” Pam asked, rolling up her sleeves as though prepared to get to work on something, she just didn’t know what.

“I’d like to take a look at that bandaged finger,” Harvey pointed out, glancing at Gus’ injured hand.

“Who were those men that showed up outta nowhere?” Shane asked, glancing towards the door.  “Did they say or do anything to you?  I swear to Yoba if they did, I’ll…” Shane trailed off when he caught sight of a disapproving look from Marnie, but Gus caught Shane’s hands ball up aggressively into fists.

“I’m fine, really, I already feel so much better just to have all of your support,” Gus answered honestly.  “Those were just roofers here to look at a leak in the roof, it’s fine.  Really.  It was just one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong but putting it all into perspective, it’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things.”

It was true, Gus was already feeling better just in the few short minutes that had passed.  Moments earlier he had been on the verge of a breakdown but it was incredible how quickly that changed just from receiving the love and support of his community.  It was always Gus who was the one providing support, providing help, providing a shoulder to cry on.  He’d never needed the same in return until now but seeing how his patrons responded in his moment of need was overwhelming.  It warmed his heart to know that if he ever truly needed anyone, they would all be there for him, ready to help and support him.  They proved it tonight.  Today may have been one of the worst days Gus had had in quite some time, but tonight somehow proved in an odd and unexpected way to be one of the best.

[durmstrange]

Don’t Waste Another Moment - Bill Weasley

Hello and welcome to a new Bill fic! this was requested by anon as follows: “could I ask for something with Bill Weasley? possibly meeting at an order meeting and after months of flirting he finally asks you out and you get together and you end up getting attacked by greyback instead of him, but he still loves you & ends up preposing a few months later? Hope you’re doing well🖤”

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: insecurity, injuries, blood, sort of graphic injury scene, mention of death

Word count: 3,301

Meeting Bill Weasley was the most fortunate thing to have ever happened to you.  You had never met someone as fun, reckless, and caring as he was.  Bill was accepting of you from the moment you met, despite your initial sky tendency, and was accepting when you flirted with one another relentlessly, was accepting when you were disfigured in battle.  Bill was your everything.  

From the moment you stepped into the first Order meeting in which Bill Weasley was in attendance, you felt your heart leap into your chest.  You had been to few meetings before, meeting the rest of the Order and the Weasley family, but when you met him, you swore your face was flushed the rest of the night. 

As the meeting drew to an end, you quickly gathered up your jacket and moved towards the exit of 12 Grimmauld Place, shooting your friend, Remus Lupin, a quick smile.  As your hand reached the old, fancy doorknob, a voice behind you caused you to stop in your tracks.  “Eager to leave?” 

You turned quickly, your face warm, and a sheepish smile on your lips.  Bill Weasley stood behind you, shrugging on a dragon skin jacket with a crooked smile.  “You could say so,” you answered ambiguously and opened the door.  “You, too?” 

“You can say so,” Bill responded, using your exact words in a cheeky voice.  He followed you out the front door with a broom in hand and onto the sidewalk below the hidden house.  “How are you getting home?” His voice was curious as he hovered for a moment. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you paused for a moment.  “Walking,” you answered with a laugh.  “I live a few blocks from here.” 

Bill raised an eyebrow and scratched the back of his neck nervously.  “Well, in that case, can I walk you to your door?”  As he reached behind himself to scratch his neck, you spotted a dangling fang earring from one ear. 

With a small laugh, you nodded gently.  “Yeah, I think I would like that.” 

~.~

From that moment on, Bill became your most common thought.  You didn’t dare miss an Order meeting from there on out, always enjoying your walk home with Bill.  It took little time for Bill to start flirting with you, rather shamelessly, in fact, and in front of absolutely anyone.

“Well, hello, beautiful,” Bill greeted during one meeting shortly after the younger wizard returned to school.  

Remus Lupin raised his eyebrow to you, shooting a smirk your way.  “Hello, handsome,” you greeted in return for the first time. 

You watched as Bill’s face reddened, but a smirk remained plastered on his face.  In the short time you’ve come to know him, he’d already grown to close to you.  Most nights after meetings, instead of just walking you home, he came inside, decompressing with you over a cup of tea, or a glass of whisky, often staying into the night to chat.  

“Yuck, get a room, you two,” Tonks scoffed and pretended to gag.  This caused you to giggle as Bill took his seat next to you, resting an arm around the back of your chair. 

Bill hummed, pretending to think.  “You know, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.  What do you say?”  His voice was flirtatious and seamless as he sent a wink your way.  

“William Weasley!”  Molly’s voice echoed through the room from the head of the table.  Bill looked to his mother, his face still reddened by your words earlier, with an amused and fearless look on his face.  “That’s not how you get a woman!  I raised you better than that!”

A wild giggled escaped your lips as you leaned forward on your elbows, eyeing Bill.  Sirius came into the room then, his shirt unbuttoned to halfway down his chest.  “All right, Molly, settle down before you wake my mother’s portrait,” Sirius told her and took his seat, the rest of the members flooding in behind him. 

As the meeting drew to an end, you shrugged on your jacket and kissed Tonk’s on the cheek quickly.  “Bye, doll.  See you soon,” Tonks bid you goodbye and leaned into Remus. 

Bill was busy talking to his mother.  It truthfully looked as if he was getting scolded by her, so you slipped from the house and onto the stoop, sitting on the low concrete wall with a small smile playing on your lips.  Not long later, after bidding goodbye to other Order members walking by, Bill ducked through the door with a sheepish look on his face.  

“There you are,” Bill said the moment he saw you on the wall, waiting for him.  “I was beginning to think you had forgotten me.” 

You scoffed, jumping from the wall and falling into pace with him, walking towards your home.  “Forget you?  I could never.” 

Bill smirked as he put his hands into the pockets of his dragon hide jacket.  “I hope not,” he murmured with a warm look on his face.  “You know, you never answered me.” 

You tilted your head to the side, confused for a moment.  “About what?”

With a laugh, Bill came to a stop outside the door to your townhouse.  “Getting a room, what do you say?” 

A wide smile grew on your lips as you giggled, bumping your shoulder with his. “Well, I do have a room right up there,” you told him and nodded to your bedroom window, that overlooked the street below.  Bill broke into a grin and laughed, as you continued to speak.  “But, perhaps you should take me out first, since you were raised better and all,” you added with a wink and a cheeky smile on your lips. 

Bill shook his head and laughed.  “Perhaps your right.  What about tomorrow?” 

“I can do tomorrow,” you answered with a sweet smile.  

Bill ducked his head, trying to hide the obvious grin on his lips, and nodded.  “Tomorrow it is, then.” 

~.~

From that moment on, your dynamic with Bill had changed completely.  He became your partner in every way.  Partner in crime, partner in bed, partner for every other thing you could possibly imagine.  He was your everything. 

He had even become your partner in battle as the Death Eaters descended onto Hogwarts in the Battle of the Astronomy Tower.  Bill was by your side through it all, deflecting what he could, fighting what he could, until he was separated from you.  

Everything had happened so quickly that you didn’t even know what happened.  One moment you were fighting with the Carrows, the next you were on the ground, an excruciating pain down one side of your face.  

You were gasping for breath but blood filled your mouth, causing you to cough and choke.  You were in pain, from your scalp, down your face, and on your shoulder, and this pain caused you to freeze.  Moving was out of the question, so you laid there in your own blood, waiting for death to take you in its cold hold. 

Instead, you felt warmth.  Warmth as you were moved onto your side, sputtering up the blood in your mouth.  Warmth as a feeling washed over you, momentarily numbing the pain.  Warmth as you closed your eyes, wondering if this was what death felt like.  

~.~

Waking up after that was one of the hardest things you ever had to do.  The pain that riddled your face and shoulder brought you to wake, your eyes fluttering open and facing a bright light.  Well, at least one eye.  

“Well, hello, beautiful,” the voice you had grown to love murmured to you.  

Swallowing hard, your head lulled to the side, spotting Bill sitting on the bed next to you, your hand in his.  “Hello, handsome,” you responded in a raspy voice.  Slowly, you tried to move into a sitting position, but your shoulder ached.  “What happened?”

Your good hand moved to your face,  running along the bandage covering half of your head and moving to your shoulder, which was also wrapped tight.  Bill stood from the bed, walking around to your side.  “You were attacked at Hogwarts, after we were called in.” 

“I remember that bit, but by who?  What did they hit me with?” you questioned as Bill carefully helped you into a sitting position.  He handed you a glass of water, one you took appreciatively.  

Bill bit his lip, looking guilty.  “Fenrir Greyback attacked you, clawing your face and shoulder, we think.  Remus only caught a glimpse of it,” Bill explained quietly as he pushed your hair out of the good half of your face.  Gently, you removed the bandage from your shoulder, peeling it around the tank top someone had put you in, looking down at the scarring that started at your collar bone, racing across your shoulder and off your arm.  It was mostly healed, with no open wound left, but three bright red ravines marked your skin so violently.  

Your lip quivered as you looked away, your fingers curling around the bandage on your head.  “Bill, a mirror, please,” you whispered as you slowly began removing the bandages on your face.  

“Love, maybe you aren’t ready for this.  We don’t even know how well you’ve healed, please,” he pleaded with you.  You ignored him, shifting on the bed to hang your legs over the side. 

“If you won’t get me a damn mirror, I'll do it myself,” you snapped as the bandages finally fell from your face.  Bill looked at you, a pained and sorrowful look on his face, and ducked away for a moment, into the bathroom attached to your bedroom.  

Your fingers ran along the three marks on your face, feeling healed after so little time.  Bill returned, holding a hand mirror.  He kneeled down in front of you, his hand resting on your knee as he held the mirror away from you a moment.  “Keep in mind it's still early, love.  Mum did what she could to heal it, so it's no longer an open wound, but its still red.  The redness will fade overtime,” Bill murmured. 

Gently, you nodded.  Slowly, Bill held the mirror up to you, allowing you to take in your appearance for the first time.  Three long scars streaked down your face, from the center of your forehead, over your right eye, narrowly missing it and just severing your eyebrow, down your cheek to your chin.  “Bloody hell,” you murmured quietly and looked away from your reflection.  “I guess you can’t call me beautiful much anymore, Bill,” you laughed flatly, trying to hide the pain on your face.

“What are you talking about?” Bill asked without hesitating, tossing the mirror on the bed.  “Love, you’re still as beautiful as ever.  Little cut up, but still beautiful.”  Bill watched as tears welled up in your eyes, building up until they spilled down your cheeks, one side falling into the ravines along your previous flawless skin.  “I love every bit of you, (Y/N).  Scars and all.  This is only one of our stories and the proof from it.  Nothing more.  You’re still my beautiful (Y/N),” Bill assured you as your head ducked down, a sob shaking your body.  

Bill stood, taking your hands into his, and he brought you to your feet carefully.  You were slightly dizzy, but looked up to him once you were stable, despite the tears falling from your eyes consistently.  “Do you mean it?” you asked him softly, as if you were scared to hear the answer to your question.  

With a chuckle, Bill dipped down, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.  “Of course I do,” he murmured and moved to his lips hovered over your scarred cheek.  Gently, you moved your face up, allowing him to kiss your new scars.  Bill started at your forehead, kissing down your face, following the scar lines. 

A small laugh escaped your lips as he moved to your neck, which was spared in the attack, and moved to your shoulder.  “Beautiful,” Bill murmured and kissed the scars along your shoulder and chest.  

With your smile on your face once more, Bill smiled in turn, peppering kisses to your face once more.  “Bill,” you murmured quietly, causing his eyes to meet yours.  “Does this mean I’m going to be like him?  Like Greyback?”  

Bill’s smile faltered in the tiniest bit, but enough for you to notice.  “Remus doesn’t think so, since it wasn’t the full moon and Greyback wasn’t in his full form.  The odds are in your favor there, love, but Remus assured that he will be here for your first full moon, in case.  But he doubts it.”  Numbly, you nodded, a feeling in your stomach forming that you hadn’t realized was possible.  “He’s here, you know?  Everyone.  Mum, dad, Fred and George, Tonks.  They wanted to make sure you’re all right.” 

After a moment, and a deep breath, you wiped your tears gently, taking extra care along your new scarring and nodded.  “Well, let’s not keep them waiting, then.”  A small smile formed on your lips as you took Bill’s hand, allowing him to lead you to the people who became your family.  

~.~

Only a short week later, as you looked out the back window of the Burrow, watching Fred and George zip around on brooms, a small smile formed on your lips.  You found yourself looking at your reflection in the window after a moment, taking in the scarring on your face, down your chest and shoulder.  With the pale blue sundress you wore, the scarring was clearly visible.  You had done this to make yourself become more accustomed to it, as it was going to be there forever now, and hiding it will only postpone your mental health more and more.  Luckily, the first full moon had passed shortly after you woke, and you were not a lycanthrope, although you did find you preferred your meat cooked on the rare side of things now.  

As you were taken in by your own thoughts, you failed to notice the rest of the Weasleys in the home, who were chatting about and recovering from the dramatic events of the last couple of weeks, leaving one by one and out onto the front yard.  The only reason you were drawn to your thoughts was when Molly called your name.  “(Y/N), dear, come here a moment, will you?” she called from the front door of the home.  You glanced back, nodding numbly, and looked out the window for a moment more.  The twins were gone, their brooms left in the yard.

Slipping through the house, you made your way to the front door, where Molly called you from, and came to a stop in the threshold.  Standing in the front yard were two rows of people, all watching you.  Molly, Arthur, Remus, and Tonks stood to one side, looking incredibly proud.  On the other side, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny, beaming with the obvious look on their face that they had a secret.  At the end of them was your Bill, looking dapper as ever, his white button down rolled up to his elbows, revealing scars all along his skin, and tucked into his tight, black jeans.  Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment, confused by the scene, but Remus waved you forward, instructing you to come up the middle. 

“What’s going on?” you asked confusedly as you walked between your friends, but your question was for your love at the end of them all.  

When you finally got to Bill, who smiled nervously to you, he took your hands in his pulled you closer.  Gently, his thumb ran along your scarring and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.  “Well, hello, beautiful,” Bill murmured his signature greeting, pushing your hair from your face.  “Funny, how such a scary situation can bring someone to their senses,” Bill chuckled deeply as you looked at him confused.  “Seeing you on the floor at Hogwarts, torn up and bloody, was the worst thing to ever happen to me.  In that moment, I feared I would wake up tomorrow without you by my side.  I feared you would never know how much I adore you, how beautiful I think you are, I feared you would never know that I want to grow old with you, start a family with you, and die by your side one day, in the far future.”  Molly’s soft sobs made a small smile form on your face.  You knew where this was going, and the tears were already forming in your eyes.  Slowly, Bill dug into his pocket and lowered himself onto one knee, exposing a beautiful ring to you.  A small gasp escaped your lips, and at that moment, with Bill on his knee in front of you, was the image you wanted embedded into your mind until the day you died.  

“(Y/N), I don’t want to spend another moment of my life worrying that you’ll never know how I feel about you, how much I love you.  Will you do me the honor in giving me your hand in marriage, (Y/N)?”  Bill’s voice was hopeful and sweet, and his normally stable hands shook as he held the ring out to you.  

It took no time for you to respond.  In fact, you could barely wait for him to get the question out before you nodded.  “Yes, of course,” you whispered as Bill rose to his feet again, throwing his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. 

The Weasleys, Remus, and Tonks cheered in that moment, tears falling from a few eyes as Bill lifted you from the ground, kissing you with all he had.  “I love you,” Bill whispered as he set you down.  Carefully, he slid the ring onto your finger, and you kissed him again, your heart bursting in your chest. 

“I love you,” you responded once you pulled away.  

“Oi, get a room, you two,” Tonks shouted, causing a loud laugh to escape your lips.  

As both of you were bombarded by hugs and love from your soon to be family, Bill kept his eyes on you.  “What do you say?” 

[tayaminaka]

Can I ask for the sacrificed s/o for daughter scenario for Ranpo, Yosano?, Tanizaki, Akutagawa, Edgar and Fyodor. You can get rid of Fyodor if the list is too long

"S/O and her Daughter were Kidnapped and S/O sacrifices herself." with Ranpo Edogawa,Yosano Akiko,Junichiro Tanizaki,Akutagawa Ryūnosuke,Edgard Allan Poe and Fyodor Dostoyevsky [Part Two]

Ranpo Edogawa

When he saw your cold body on the floor, his hands formed into fists

He was too late and that angered him

His mind is empty and full at the same time

The first days he won’t go anywhere. Simply sitting in his room, not talking to anybody until after around five day’s Fukuzawa confronts him with it

That day he had an actually mental breakdown. Yelling at Fukuzawa until tears of anger and sadness are streaming down his face

After that day he actually got better and could take care of your daughter again (Yosano helps him with it even if he says he could do it himself)

Now the Armed Detective Agency would have two little sweet tooth’s

She would sit beside him, mostly eating some candy or simply try to help everybody in the office

As a goodnight story he would mostly tell her about some cases he solved or something about you

They usually don’t speak about you or what happened. It isn’t a forbidden topic but still not really welcomed

Because it usually reminds him that he had failed

They would also go togheter to work and some sweet shops .Though she mostly brings him to them

After all she has still something from you

„Papa this is the wrong direction. We need to go left and not right.” said she as she pulled on his sleeve

He would raise her to the next great detective

When she gets old enough she would go with him to some murder scenes and they would mostly have a competition who’s gonna catch the murder first

The Armed Detective Agency would be like a second family to her

Because everybody takes care of her. Even if she gets older they would still take care of her

When she’s old enough they both would go to the cemetery

She would simply sit in front of your grave and talk to you what happened and that she misses you

Yosano Akiko

Hot tears streamed down her face as she grabbed the one who killed you by his colar with a crazy smile and turned on her chainsaw

She’s gonna use her ability over and over again on your kidnappers

First she would let them scream in agony and then simply heal them only to start over again with her torture

Until someone from the Armed Detective Agency finally stops her

After your dead she will be full with sorrow and anger

But who wouldn’t ?

Everything was perfect and beautiful until those people came

But after some time sorrow will wanish and acceptance will come

Of course she won’t forget you and the sorrow and hate will still be in her heart

But she will try to go on. For you and your daughter

She would make your daughter a cute but at the same time elegant nurse costume

Make a little bag for her and put a little first-aid-kit in it for any case

She will bring her to work and make her, her little assistant

Your daughter would mostly go around the whole office and ask everyone if they are hurt or need help

Ooh you should see her face when she saw Dazai with his bandages

She imidiatly ran to her mama because she thought that he might die

She mostly will treat little injuries like paper cuts or bruises

„Aah Tanizaki-kun, you should be more careful so that you don’t cut yourself again.” said your little daughter as she put a cute band aid on his hurted finger

Even if she gets older she would still be her little assistant and work in the infirmary with her (still with a little nurse outfit only more mature)

Sometime both would sit in the kitchen togheter behind a cup of tea, looking at some old photos of you two

Of course it’s painful for her but your daughter needs to know about those memories

God forbid that somebody hurts her daughter

Because the person will experience her extra "good" treatment

Junichiro Tanizaki

God may have mercy with those who kidnapped and killed you because he won’t

After he discovers your dead he’s in pure rage

Did you see what happened with Higuchi when she hurted Naomi?

He’s gonna make the exact same thing with your killers but much worse...without any mercy

The whole Armed Detective Agency will see him in a whole new light

After that you won’t see a smile on his face a long time

But after some time for himself and a talk with Naomi he would get a little better

Naomi would always help him raising your daughter

And of course putting her in lots of cute dresses

„Uhm...What are you doing?” asked Atsushi your ten year old daughter who was sitting under his table

„Playing hide and seek with auntie Naomi. Now put that chair back or she will find me.” whispered she and pulled the chair back to it’s place

It wouldn’t be a secret for your daughter that Naomi isn’t her real mother

But she would still love her, even if she isn’t her mom

Even if she gets older he would be still a little overprotective and he won’t hesitate to protect her with his life

Mostly after long walks togheter he would give her a piggyback ride to the dorm, like he once did it with you

If she feels sad because she misses you to much he’s gonna try to comfort her.

He would hug her, pet her head and simply give her a chance to let it all out

But he knows that all this is only a small consolation for her

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

When he found your daughter crying over your corpse he snapped

In less than five minutes everything and everyone was dead and destroyed

Only the quite sobs from you daughter were heard in the distance as he slowly went away with her

Now that everything is over he would mostly become colder and sometimes even aggressive towards everything

Even if Gin try’s to talk to him he would simply brush her off, saying harshly that everything is fine

But don’t trust it

On the inside he’s really disappointed and sad about everything that happened. Sometimes even hating himself for his weakness

If he needs to do more work Gin will mostly help him out in her free time by babysitting your daughter

She would also teach her some self-defence, maybe even some tricks with a knife so that she’s not completely helpless

But when she’s busy too, he will go to Higuchi

She would mostly take her without any doubts and with the most happy expression ever (because her senpai is trusting her)

If your daughter is old enough and ask her nicely, she would secretly even teach her how to handle a gun

His expression would always be serious and cold but your daughter sees trought it and smiles everything he praises her or give her something

On some free days they both would go to the cemetery

Not for a long time, but long enough so that you daughter can speak a little with you and lay fresh flowers on your grave

He isn’t good with words so mostly when your daughter is crying he would get on his knee and simply let her hug him

He would mostly hug her back a little and sometimes,rarely but sometimes pet her head

That usually helps her to calm down and organize herself a little

„Don’t cry...” he said as he pulled your daughter a little more to him so that she could bury her face in his coat.

Edgar Allan Poe

Oooh how much anger and sadness shot trough his body

He couldn’t believe you were dead

Everything was like a awful nightmare and he just wanted to wake up

But you can’t wake up from reality

The first weeks he was depressed, laying in your once shared bed, hoping that maybe you would come back

He will lose his fully inspiration in writing books until one day he saw your daughters drawing where he was writing

After that he would pull himself together and soon everything would be a little normal again

After that accident Karl would be your daughters faithful companion

Everytime she would go somewhere on her own ,he would simply sit on her shoulders

When she can’t sleep or has nightmares Karl would lay right beside her so that she could cuddle with him

It usually helps her to fall asleep in such nights

But when even that doesn’t help she would take Karl and go to Poe to sleep in his bed

„Good Night, Papa...” she whispered as she nuzzle up to him a little more, holding Karl in her arms.

„Good Night...” he answered, wrapping a arm around her after he pulled th blanket a little up so that she doesn’t freeze.

He would also write books for her with the best memories you two ever had

So that your daughter can experience the most beautiful memories by herself

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Well when he found out about your dead the fate of the kidnapping was sealed

With the most serious and cold expression he ordered Nikolai to get rid of them and bring his little daughter to him

He would be a little like Akutagawa. On the outside there would be simply nothing but on the inside something in him would ache for days

When the right time has come he would introduce her properly to the members

Ivan would always call her little master. He would take care of her, protect her and make her her favourite delicious tea

Sigma would mostly babysit her and be her little friend. Even if she gets older he would be still her friend and sometimes even a brother figure

Well Nikolai would always call her either little Dos-kun or little mouse. He would aways raise her mood with his magic tricks though he sometimes overdo it...

„Papa, Papa uncle Nikolai’s head fell off.” she yelled running towards him with tears in her eyes. In the distance you could see Nikolai’s head laying on the floor with an innocent look like nothing happened

Sometimes when she has trouble with sleeping he would put her on his lap so that she can sleep in his arms while he's "working"

Nobody would know about her existence again. In every date about her would stand "Missing" or "Deceased"

When she has an ability he will use her in his plans as a little trump card because not even a soul knows that she’s still alive and with him

He will teach her all the stuff from simply unlock locks to manipulating people

He would mostly forbid her to go out and visiting your grave

After all, nobody should ever know his little mouse but thanks to his teaching she would simply sneak out when nobody is watching

She would bring fresh flowers to your grave in the summer and brush off the snow in the winter

Always having you in her memories