#I woke up and manically drew both of them

[zsbrainrot]

Kazuki would buy the I am Kenough Hoodie and wear it all the time. Rei would tease him but then proceed to steal it on a regular basis.

Happy Buddy Daddies Friday!

(Pose inspo for Rei under the cut)

[sariahjaques]

28th February, 2018.

I didn’t expect myself to be here but I guess a lot of life has been unexpected. I used to write extensively until I ran out of words and now I am here, placing them beside each other as if that does not feel like the most alien thing ever. It’s been too long of me being this quiet. I had to start speaking again. 

There are a lot of things that have gone unsaid and I don’t know where to start from. Perhaps it is better to leave the past be. God knows there are enough ghosts lingering around here. I’ll write about my day then instead. It started the way days have started for the past twenty years. I woke up at six in the morning, eyes opening as soon as the first rays of the wretched sun entered my house. I made myself breakfast and then read for a bit. The day drifted past me as it has for so long. It's a disconnected sort of tranquillity that lays coldly on me, like I’m underwater. Lately, things have been a little different though. Danger seems to be looming over this island. It’s been tugging at me, this urgency. It’s like my eyes are opening after a long, deep slumber. 

I went to the library today. I have admired the library on this island ever since I got here. It took me a really long time to get through everything it had to offer. It was a near impossible task but then I’ve had nothing but time on my hands for a long time. I still work, mostly with historians and museums on the mainland, but it doesn’t inspire such passion in me as it used to anymore. Nothing does. 

I expected the library to be empty, as usual, but I was taken by surprise when I found loud music echoing through its rooms. I followed the sound to the librarian’s office. Jose Pietro sat at his desk flipping manically through old manuscripts and ancient books. His desk was littered with such documents along with old newspapers and other unknown files. Music played loudly from a rusty gramophone behind him. I had seen it before but never ever in use. There were bottles of alcohol strewn across the room carelessly. Drew Smith stood by his desk, rubbing her temples. She looked tired. Both Jose and Drew looked up when they heard me walk to the office. Jose’s eyes were bloodshot and there was a frazzled craziness in them that was unsettling. “You don’t look very well, Jose,” I said quietly and he scoffed at me, returning to his desperate perusing of documents. I had never seen Jose like this before. He and I aren’t friends but I have frequented the library enough for us to have an understanding between us. He has always been the one to answer everything with a laugh first and then actual sentences. His face is textured more with smile lines than with wrinkles. Seeing him torn apart at the seams was jarring. 

“He has been at it like this since the funeral,” Drew replied, exhaustion and worry dripping through her voice, “Like going over these old files and these old papers are somehow going to give him the answer to all of this.” 

Jose’s head shot up at that. “They will,” he seethed. Drew took a small step back at that.  “I know they will. It’s here, it’s all here, in the past, I don’t know how to explain it, how to make sense of it because Callahan went and offed himself but I know the answer has to be here somewhere,” he almost shouted before going back the documents in his hands. Something cold washed over me. I recognised it later as anger, as blinding fury. It is like the numbness that had been resting over me fizzled away in an instant. All my nerve endings were fired up, like every atom in my body could feel even the slightest movement in the air. I would have punched Jose right there but I stopped myself. I took a breath in and then counted back from twenty as I let it out. “He didn’t kill himself,” I said, my voice coming out with a steely breathiness that I hadn’t heard it embody for some time now. “What?” Jose asked, looking up at me again. “Nothing,” I replied, pushing my hands into the pockets of my trousers. I nodded at Drew before walking away and out of the library.

I am back in bed now, more awake than ever. It’s night now and the shadows that the trees are creating on my bedroom floor have an eerie quality today. I look at the empty spot beside me on my bed. Nights like these have started feeling lonelier than ever.

~SJ. 

[racingtoaredlight]

Goodnight, Sweet Prince

Disclaimer: You don't want to read this...it's brutal. I won't take offense if you don't read, but please keep unrelated comments on the Open Thread that will post shortly.

***

This is my 4th attempt at writing something that Willie 100% deserves, but I keep breaking down and I just can't stop crying. I loved him so much, it's just ripping me apart. I loved him so goddamned much.

I was so proud to be his owner. I fucking hate that term, I just don't know what else to use.

I took him everywhere I could. Everywhere he went, he drew people in...this isn't hyperbole, at least once per week I'd be stopped by someone driving and spend a minute or two chatting about him. He was everything I ever wanted in a dog...from his athleticism to his personality to his sense of humor.

Every day I'd get in my car to go home from work, I'd excitedly start my car and say "I'm comin' Willie!" But now he's gone. He's not there to come home to anymore. I walk around my house looking for him and he's just not there.

***

My past four months have been a form of hell, and I've tried really hard not to bring it here...but it's just really hard when that's all you can think about.

I've known my father was going to die since his two heart attacks on the same weekend seven and a half years ago. Those heart attacks happened a month after my beloved grandmother passed away.

I've talked about my issues with manic depression in the past, as well as openly discussed that I've been a danger to myself in the past.

When I was on that edge, my first thought was "if I die, nobody will take Willie, and he'll end his life in a shelter waiting for anyone to adopt him." How could I do that to him again? Despite the shitstorm going on in my brain, even in that state, thinking of him cut through it enough to bring me back.

I don't say this lightly...if it weren't for Willie, I would not be here.

***

My father is in hospice and will likely pass within a week or so. The past four months have featured numerous trips to the ER, doc visits, tests, you name it...pretty much all week, every other week as the doctors kept trying their best to keep a man with a 6% functioning heart and 11% functioning kidneys alive.

The easy parts were running to his place to water his plants. Or coming over in the morning to make him a milkshake while we listen to music. The hard parts have been hanging up the phone or leaving his place, and the first thing that runs through my mind is "will this be the last conversation we ever have?"

The medium hard parts were running to the grocery store or the pharmacy in between meetings. Or preparing him 3 days worth of food in the 45 minutes I had before a guitar lesson. And 1.5 of those days I'd be throwing out the next time I stopped by.

The hardest part was wondering who'd go first.

I never complained about any of this. I'd do it again for the both of them without a conscious thought because I love them both so much. But it wears on you. Month after month does a toll.

***

I've been doing all of this, on top of an insane pace at work, on almost no sleep.

The vet told me to keep a diary of his health throughout all this. You notice a string of bad days, but the first good day and a half and all of the sudden that concern washes away. Keeping a diary allows you to get a relatively objective look at your dog's health, and notice long-term trends.

Unfortuantely...as I've known with my dad's heart condition, sleep is a big factor...I tracked Willie's sleep and got a wonderful look every day at how little I'd gotten over months. Months.

And I knew I lied in the diary. I didn't want to admit to myself that Willie's condition was getting so much worse...even if I couldn't ignore the 8th straight day he'd wake me up before 3am. Let me put it this way...in the last three months, I've had six full nights of sleep. Another 12 of days he woke me up after 3am. Every other day was a 2-3am wakeup call, and three of those days were no sleep at all.

It wasn't as simple as getting up and letting him outside to relieve his fading bladder...the next hours before I went to work were spent comforting him on the couch, as his increasingly weakening heart pounded like hell to circulate enough blood through his system.

He didn't wake me up all those nights because he had to pee...he woke me up all those nights so that I could make him less afraid of his heart feeling like it was drowning due to an edema. He'd get comforted and calm down to sleep just around the time I had to get up and get ready for work.

And every morning, every day I'd come home from work...whenever I'd leave him...there was a simultaneous terror combined with hope that I'd find him having passed away in slumber. A peaceful, painless, natural death.

***

There were so many good memories of our time together, please don't ever suggest that I'm glossing over them. I am at a certain peace...it was his time, it was a wonderful goodbye, and so many of my friends and family have come to his support, that's brought me to tears separately.

He was a special guy, he touched everyone's life that he met. He was wonderful with children, wonderful with others, terrible with other dogs (but you can't win em all).

Those memories will always come back as long as I still have a functioning brain. Right now is so close though, all I can feel is loneliness.

Over the years, I've shared numerous anecdotes of Willie because I was so proud of him that I wanted that joy to be spread to others. But all I can feel is the pain of having lost my best friend.

There's a common refrain "you don't know what you got until it's gone," or some variation of that. I thought I knew what I had in my relationship with Willie...but given this gigantic empty space in my heart, this giant fucking chasm, I somehow underestimated how much he was giving me.

***

The thing that scares me the most about the future isn't losing my father, it's losing a grasp of joy.

Pretty much everyone here knows I struggle deeply with anger issues and have a darker side that I try really hard to keep tamped down. I talked about this with my therapist yesterday before the vet came over...

Willie was always a bulwark against the darker side of my brain coming to the front. Even in my worst moods, where I'm borderline psychotic, even just looking at him would bring me to a calmer, sustainable place psychologically. "Those" days at work? They bothered me less knowing I'd be on the couch chillin' with my big boy in 15 minutes.

As his condition worsened, so did the vet bills and trips. $100 a pop, $450 for an echocardiogram here, $200 dog cardiologist fees, $180 for a Lasix IV there, $150 every month for his heart medication, $50 per month on all the stuff he needed for his arthritis, and it seriously just goes on and on. Thousands and thousands of dollars over the last four months. Nevermind the car trips there and back that wreaked havoc on his heart...

But I would have done fucking anything for this dog. Anything except selfishly keep him alive when he's telling me he just can't anymore...I knew it was the right thing, and I feel like I fucking completely betrayed and failed him, at a time when he needed me the most.

That helpless feeling..."I can't do fucking shit"...I'd find myself at 3am googling "if you love a dog enough will it live forever?" You know the answer. I knew the answer. That's where I'm still at.

***

I should've quit writing this paragraphs ago...I'm just fucking sobbing and this isn't doing me any good. And I can't just talk about the good times, because all I can think of is that those times are gone. Every time I think of something beautiful or joyful, it's immediately poisoned by an onset of sobbing because I miss him so much already.

You all know how much Willie meant to me. I don't have to make the case for that...I loved that dog more than I've loved anything in my life. And I don't give a shit if you think that's sad or immature or lame.

I kept quitting this and coming back because he deserves it. He deserves to be commemorated for the tremendous companion he was...and as much as I'd love to be able to write that piece that makes everyone happy and celebrates him, I just can't write that piece right now. The joyful memories will come when I'm in a healthier state, I'm certain of it.

But I can't keep writing this and just crying all over myself. He deserved a much better eulogy than this, but this is the best that I could do. It feels like I failed him already yesterday and now I feel like I'm failing him again.

Willie was the greatest dog in the world, my best friend, my savior, and adopting him was the single most rewarding thing I've ever done in my life. I'll love him forever no matter what. I'm just really hurting right now.

***

During this time, I've been trying to think of something to preserve his memory with what few skills I possess, and I have no idea how to do this or even get it started, but I want to start a non-profit called The Willie Fund where I can link with pit rescues across the country and provide funds for palliative care and dignified, in-home euthenasia for those in their communities that need it. I don't know where to start but I have to do something.

And thank you guys for letting me share Willie with you all these years. I'll be back at some point.

*The pic at the top was taken months ago, not yesterday...it's just my favorite serious picture of the two of us and thought it was a respectful image to remember our relationship by. I loved him so much and I know he loved me too.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 13

A/N: ayyyy, lucky number 13! a lot of stuff goes down in this chapter, but you guys will be getting part of the resolution!! this isn’t the end though, there are two chapters left in the story! Oh also my pal Jack made a spotify playlist for this series, and all the songs on it work so well and absolutely slap!!

Warnings: possession, manipulation, swordfight, self-worth issues, violence, choking (not in the *wink* way stop it it’s meant to be angsty), kissing, hugs

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost 

-

Scott didn’t know where he was. It was like he was standing in the Void, but there was something more off about the pitch black landscape than usual. It was tinted red, somehow. There was a deep crimson color that permeated the air, a thick fog that threatened to choke Scott- and then he saw him. It was- it was himself, sort of. The figure before him looked exactly like Scott, but something was definitely off. First was the color scheme of his clothing- red and black instead of the cyan and white of his empire. Then, most glaringly, was his eyes. Deep red, just like the corruption in Scott’s arm. And when he put a hand on the hilt of the dark blade strapped to his side and grinned, Scott saw far too sharp teeth.

“Who are you?!” Scott demanded, instinctively reaching for his sword and pleasantly surprised to find it sheathed at his side- he hadn’t remembered it being there before. The red version himself somehow managed to grin wider.

“A small part of a larger plan. He will be pleased to know I have you under my control,” the red Scott taunted. Scott’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“He? What plan, what are you talking about?” Scott asked, and the red version of himself laughed.

“So you don’t remember yet… that explains why you were so easy to defeat,” he taunted. Scott grit his teeth and drew his sword.

“You haven’t defeated me yet,” Scott growled. The red Scott only laughed, before lunging at Scott faster than he thought was possible. He blocked the incoming blow just in time, trying to push the red version of himself back.

“I won’t be as easy to defeat as your pathetic little fish boy,” the red Scott sneered.

“He isn’t mine,” Scott protested through gritted teeth before managing to push his other self back. He slashed at the red Scott, who easily sidestepped the attack.

“Oh you definitely made sure of that, didn’t you?” the red Scott scoffed. Scott’s attacks faltered, and his other self took the opening. Scott managed to evade most of the blow, but he was stumbling and unsteady now, and the edge of the red Scott’s blade ended up cutting his arm.

“This- this isn’t even about him,” Scott protested, but his voice came out weaker than he meant it to.

“But you can’t resist thinking about him anyway, can’t you? I’ve been in your head, Scott. No matter how hard you try, that fool in a cod head can’t escape your attention. But you ruined everything you could have had with him before it had barely begun,” the red Scott taunted, continuing to strike at Scott, and he could barely block the blows as he continued to speak.

“Stop,” Scott managed to get out, choking back a sob as he tried to continue fighting his other self.

“He was an Icarus, and you were his sun. He got too close and you burned him, Scott. Everything that you touch crashes and burns, so why not give in? Why not let me take the reins- certainly things would be better without you,” the red Scott crooned, and he didn’t even need to raise a sword to send Scott reeling. Before he knew what he was doing, he lowered his sword, and the red fog started closing in, becoming tangible and wrapping around Scott, pinning his arms to his sides.

“Wait- no!” Scott cried, trying to struggle against the strange red substance, but it was too late. It had Scott firmly in its clutches, and the red Scott grinned.

“Goodbye, Scott,” he said with a cackle, and the last thing Scott saw was a blade slashing towards him.

-

It had at most been a few hours since they had locked Jimmy away with Scott when he woke up. Scott sat bolt upright in bed, chest heaving as he accidentally dislodged Jimmy’s hand from his own. Jimmy reached out for his hand again, but froze when he saw Scott’s eyes. They were red. Jimmy knew what he had to do- he had to tell the others that Scott had lost to the corruption. But Jimmy still couldn’t find it in himself to give up on Scott. So he sat there, frozen as he watched Scott catch his breath, eyes blood red and the corruption visibly pulsing beneath his skin.

“Scott?” Jimmy asked softly, still foolishly clinging to hope. Scott’s head snapped to him, and with a growl he lunged at Jimmy. He successfully tackled him to the ground, hands around his throat. A horrible choked noise escaped Jimmy’s lips as he clawed at Scott’s hands, struggling to breathe. He couldn’t even call out to his friends if he wanted to, and he felt his vision already darkening at the edges. His friends had been right, and all Jimmy could think about was how he would never see Scott’s brilliant icy blue eyes again.

Suddenly there was a bright purple flash between them. Gem’s crystal! It seemed to have worked, causing Scott to scramble off of Jimmy and hiss in pain. Jimmy rubbed at his throat, his other hand up placatingly as he gave Scott a pleading expression. But there was no recognition in Scott’s now crimson eyes, just fiery anger. He lunged at Jimmy again, despite the crystal around his neck, and the two of them grappled for control. The crystal still glowed brightly, causing Scott to hiss in pain, but he still kept coming after Jimmy, trying to pin him down and get a grip on his throat again. Jimmy had to get away, he had to call for help. He managed to shove Scott off of him, and scramble to his feet- but Scott got up just as quickly. There was a brief moment of stillness, of both of them catching their breath. But the second Jimmy tried to make a break for the hidden door, Scott’s wings suddenly drew back and snapped closed on Jimmy’s head, causing his ears to ring and his vision to blur from the blow. He fell to his knees, blinking rapidly to try and get his vision to clear. He vaguely registered a blur of white and blue lunging at him and fully tackling him down to the ground. He tried to push Scott off of him again, but his wrists were snatched up and forcefully pinned on either side of his head.

The ringing in Jimmy’s ears finally ceased and his vision cleared to see Scott above him with a manic, victorious grin on his face. And well… Jimmy got an idea. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea- but Scott had him pinned, and his face was inches away from Jimmy. He couldn’t help but think of the first time they fought like this- and that felt like centuries ago, now. Except that time Jimmy didn’t think either of them wanted the other to die. But here Scott was, trying to kill Jimmy… and there was only thing Jimmy could think of to maybe unbalance Scott. So he lunged up, eyes squeezed shut as he crushed his lips against Scott’s. If he had kept his eyes open, he would have seen the red in Scott’s eyes flicker before they fluttered shut, and the corruption slowly seep out of his skin. But Jimmy was too focused on the way Scott kissed him back, hands releasing his wrists to instead cup his face and run through his hair. Jimmy almost got lost in the kiss- in Scott's small gasp paired with a pleasant shiver as Jimmy’s hands brushed the base of his wings when his arms wrapped around him, in how Scott kissed him as desperate as a man fighting not to drown- but then Jimmy remembered the reason he had kissed Scott in the first place. He neatly flipped them over, breaking the kiss and grabbing Scott’s hands, intending to pin him like he had done to Jimmy- but then he saw Scott’s eyes. They were confused and disorientated, but were the icy blue shade that Jimmy knew so well.

"You could at least take me out to dinner first before you pin me like that," he joked weakly. Jimmy let out a mildly hysterical laugh. He scrambled off of Scott to instead pull him into his lap and hug him tightly.

"You're okay!" he said in a gasp. Scott slowly hugged him back, expression twisted with confusion and disbelief.

“I- you- did you- but I thought I was dead... so- what? How?” Scott asked, looking like his brain was going a million miles a minute.

“That corruption in your skin- we did everything to try and stop it or remove it, but nothing was working- and it was up to you to fight it off and you almost didn’t- but of course you did in the end, you’re- you’re you…” Jimmy trailed off, pausing for only a brief moment before gently cradling Scott’s jaw and pulling him into a kiss. Scott kissed him back for half a second, before pulling back with wide eyes. Jimmy’s stomach started turning nervously, and he drew his hand back from Scott’s face.

“Why are you- you kissed me? And still want to kiss me? Why?” he asked in disbelief. Jimmy laughed nervously.

“I uh. I got carried away, huh? I just- I was so relieved you were alive, and that you were… you. And the first time I was just trying to throw you off, but I guess that was the final push you needed to fight back,” Jimmy explained sheepishly. Scott still looked hopelessly lost.

“But- but I betrayed you. And I just tried to kill you!” he protested.

“You weren’t yourself,” Jimmy said softly.

“But I was when I was working with Fwhip! You- you shouldn’t want to do anything to do with me- you said so yourself!” he continued, tears gathering in his eyes. Jimmy took Scott’s hands, squeezing them gently as he looked at Scott right in the eyes.

“Scott. I should have listened to you when you tried to tell me that you cared, and I should have believed you when you told me that you were only trying to protect me. I’m sorry for pushing you away, Scott,” Jimmy said firmly. Scott still looked like he was on the verge of tears, but he didn’t pull away from Jimmy.

“But- but I wouldn’t have even gotten feelings for you if Fwhip hadn’t told me to keep an eye on you,” Scott protested weakly. Jimmy pondered this for a moment, gaze darting away before looking back to Scott with a softly determined expression.

“When did you first realize you had feelings for me?” he asked. Scott blinked in surprise at the question, and he swallowed nervously before answering.

“It was the day I had stolen the slimeball from you. You- you chased after me, grinning like an idiot and the scales on your stupid cod head were glinting like bronze in the sunlight… you- you were irrevocably radiant, and I realized I didn’t want a world without your smile or laugh in it,” Scott confessed softly. Jimmy grinned, heart soaring.

“That was when I realized it too. And if we’ve both cared about each other for that long… then what’s the point in getting fussed over the reason why?” Jimmy replied. Scott let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob as he abruptly leaned forward and hugged Jimmy tightly. Jimmy hugged him back, running a hand through rustled feathers and smoothing them out.

“I’m so sorry for everything, I know it wasn’t all my fault- but the explosion, everything before that…” Scott trailed off into sobs. Jimmy shifted, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“It’s alright, I promise you it’s alright- that you’re alright, and that we’re alright. I forgive you, it wasn’t your fault,” Jimmy murmured, holding Scott as he cried. Eventually the tears subsided, and Scott’s breathing evened out. Jimmy shifted slightly so that he could look Scott in the eyes- even if at first, that movement earned him a slight pout. Jimmy chuckled at the sight of it.

“Can we try that first kiss again? It keeps getting interrupted by silly things like trying to save each others’ lives and self-doubt,” he asked with a cocky grin. Scott laughed.

“I think I kind of like having you alive, Jimmy,” Scott said between laughs.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jimmy teased with a grin, easily falling back into their playful banter. Scott smirked, leaning in until he was a mere breath away from Jimmy. Jimmy’s heart rate spiked very quickly, and at this rate maybe Scott was still trying to kill him. Not that Jimmy was exactly complaining if this was the way he went out, a handsome winged elf in his lap looking at him like he was the world.

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot,” Scott murmured.

“Gladly,” Jimmy breathed out, before closing the little distance between them. It was fireworks behind Jimmy’s eyes, flowers blooming in his chest, it was sunlight and glittering gold- but most importantly it was Scott, alive and himself, safe in Jimmy’s arms.

-

Taglists below! Let me know if you wanna be added/removed!

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[bloodycassian]

 Cauldron Damned. 

Reader x Cassian + Feyre BFF

Prompt -  bestie bestie bestie a cassian x reader fic where reader helps feyre with the cauldron - not rhys and she ya know  like rhys did and cassian basically breaks down and it’s super angsty but rhys lives so the reader gets to aswell ig tag @ bellefleurs and @ eerievixen

Her hair was a mess and painted to her neck with sweat but you still held her. Still gave and gave, until you were out of breath. Until you could feel yourself slipping. "Keep going.... You're doing so good." You panted out, trying to put a smile in your tone. She was the Mother herself, forging that cursed Cauldron back together.  Rhys was breathing heavily behind you after being knocked out by Lucien. You had given the Autumn court son a look and he had known what you needed him to do. Rhys would be snarling mad when he woke, but you knew what you had to do. To save your home, to save the entire world. Feyre was ready to risk it all, fearless and full of hope. You had to save that hope for your Court. Better you than her, better the high lady and lord survive than just an officer. You smiled at the thought of what you'd told Cassian before this final battle. Before you knew it would turn into saving the entire world from the Cauldron's vengeance.  "You better make damn sure my memorial statue looks fantastic. No priestess, though. Make sure it makes my wings stand out." You joked on the flight to the base camp. Cassian danced around death like he was it's balancing point. Like he was in tune with each and every death or life dealt. He laughed at your abruptness on the subject.  After months of skittering around each other, of trying not to stare too long or acknowledge that pull you felt towards him... It was nice to finally be alone. To let that tension ease out with a few jokes. It was too easy to be with him, like you'd known him much longer in the year of preparation for this battle.  "And you better make sure my wings are bigger than yours on that sculpture." He banked around a large cliffside and you followed, like a magnet. Like you could read his mind, you turned when he did. He rose with you, compensating for the cool mountain wind.  You rolled your eyes dramatically, flapping a bit higher than him for emphasis as you drawled out "Poor War General, his wing size matters so much to him." He shrugged, circling lower and lower with you until you were on the ground together amid a clearing. The grass was soft, covered in early morning dew. "Some say wing size dosen't matter, you know." You said with a wink, making him double over with laughter. It made you begin laughing too when he started running out of breath.  Once you had both collected yourselves, You began building a fire together. Rather, a massive bonfire that was to act as the signal to the army for where to move. His face was grim when he threw the last of the logs together. You understood why. "The Kings army will be here before us." You said, voice low. He only nodded. You kneeled in the wet grass, one knee down the other one supporting your wrist bracer. He followed you silently.  You spoke in unison, the ancient words from all the Illyrian warriors before you: "Name me God of Death today. Let us bring that name to those who do us wrong." + Feyre muttered something you couldn't hear. The darkness crept further in on you. You could see some light between your blurred vision. You could see how her hands lit up the cracks in the ancient stonework. You could feel her practically vibrating with the strain.  Your tears dribbled on to her shoulder, knowing these would be your final moments with her. Your final moments in this world. There was no better way you'd spend it than saving her. Spending those last few minutes being able to tell her how amazing she was. You felt her smile when you leaned your head against hers. Your heart ached. You whispered what you hoped were encouraging words in her ear. A rupture of sound- a crack fully mended -and your chest filled with blooming pride at your friend.  There was something crackling, ripping. You weren't sure if it was inside you or if it was the magic Feyre was performing. There was a gasp behind you and rustling, but you dared not take your concentration away from her. Away from how she leaned back into you. Dared not speak a word to distract her other than giving her those little jabs of confidence when she started to shake.  "You got it, Feyre. You can do this." You managed, before that caving feeling in your chest seemed to give in. You were breaking, you knew that much. But she wasn't done yet. Your breath leaked out from you, like you were being squeezed.  "Make it all worth it, Feyre." You managed to whisper out before you could no longer hold yourself up anymore. You laid back, your legs wrapped around her, mirroring her own. You hooked a foot on top of hers and gave her what you could from where you crumpled.  Death was easy, slow. Like a soft lullaby taking you away. You knew what lay before your body, and only hoped you were enough to get Feyre to where she could mend the rest on her own. You gave her all of your soul, all your being. She had to make it. You let the wave of that soft lullaby take you under.  + Cassian didnt think before shoving his way through the crowd into the tent. Didnt consider what he might find there, and how his heart may be ripped from him at the sight of it. The death that crept at that tent was a feeling he wouldnt forget in a thousand lifetimes.  His best friends lying unconscious on the floor before the cauldron. He went numb, still like a cold glacier. Lucien frantically shook Rhys, attempting to wake him. Cassian's head roared and he was falling to his knees at your side. He took your head in his lap, gently. As if he could still hurt you. He didn't notice he was crying until he saw the fat teardrops on your cheek. He wiped them away, leaving dirt smeared there. Another yell of anguish, and Rhys was coming to. From the sound of the yelling or from Lucien shaking him.  Azriel entered the tent then, solemn. Then his eyes widened. Those shadows darted around the room, taking each member of the court into account. The shadowmaster rushed to Feyre, checking her pulse and sighing. He noted the way your leg tangled around hers. His heart gave a painful squeeze. He saw both his brothers in agony. And he swore on his life there would be no place for the cauldron to be found again. Cassian cradled his mate's head in his lap, rocking gently. Rhys' dark power cracked the sky outside the tent once he was conscious.  Rhys rushed to Feyre, scooping her in his arms. He brushed her hair back from her face. Azriel could practically hear the mental screaming coming from both of them. The shadowmaster laid a hand on top of yours, closing his eyes and letting his tendrils of power, of those whispering shadows reach out. They circled your head, slowly like a snake.  He felt that song then, singing back with his own. The essence of your soul, dancing around your aura.  His eyes flashed open in surprise, then a manic laugh rumbled from his chest. "Rhys-" He breathed, pulling his attention away from a waking Feyre. Cassian looked up in a flash at his brothers, watching them exchange looks.  "Bring my mate back now." Cassian growled at Rhys. The tone was utterly deadly. Promises of death from the Lord of Bloodshed if his command was not answered. Azriel's eyes darted between his brothers. As if he was expecting Cassian to attack. The high lord would have been gaping at him if he hadn't experienced the same pain of almost losing a mate. He nodded, pulling himself together long enough to enter your vacant mind. Then the cauldron was humming, as he dipped a mental hand into it as well. +  Rhys' commanding voice rang out over your land of lavender and sunshine. "She will miss you." His voice was soft, but the attention it drew was still there. The meadow you laid in was softer than any silk in Velaris. More luxurious than any chair made to accompany your wings. You sighed, taking in the sweet scent before he spoke again.  "Too much, I believe. Especially when she hears about what you did to save her." He appeared at the edge of the soft meadow, the grass around him waving like the sea. You sat up, dazzled at the sight of him here. In such a bright, lovely place. His tanned face seemed to glow with the smile he held for you. "I'm tired." You said, voice groggy. You wanted to lay back down. You closed your eyes, for just a second and when you opened again he was in front of you, crouched. He held a tattooed hand out, giving you a nod. "Just come with me and you can nap all you want." His eyes sparkled. Not with that starlit power, but with tears ready to spill over.  You took that hand and closed your eyes.  + Feyre's warm hand in yours was the first thing you felt when you woke. Rhys held her in the corner atop a pelt rug beside you. The brothers leaned against each other. Rhys played with Feyre's hair as she rested. The sight of them together, him protecting her so well made your heart sing in approval. you knew she always deserved someone as good as Rhys. The fire where the Cauldron once was made the tent cozy. There were no sounds other than the soft breathing and the occasional pop of wood on the fire.   Azriel sat at the door, sword on his lap. Ready to kill if anyone dared enter. Then, you looked to the softness that cradled you. Cassian's face was covered in dirt, blood and more. He looked exhausted. Like he had been beaten, lost and beaten again. You tried a weak smile at him.  Clean rivers ran down from his eyes, revealing the dark skin underneath. "I couldn't let you get a statue without me." He said, voice trembling. You smiled the best you could and reached a hand to stroke his cheek.  "How-" You began, but he shushed you. "Just..rest for now. We can talk in the morning." He brushed a thumb over a silent tear that trickled from your eye. You nodded, and let him pull the blanket more firmly around you. Lulling you to sleep with soft humming.

[sexysilverstrider]

Burning Ambition (Teppeilumi)

  Everything was dark.

  Stench of spit and blood filled the room. His vision was terrible blur, he could only make out faded images of the ceiling above. A gulp was attempted. A painful cringe was obtained. Breathing grew harsher, weaker. Heartbeat became slower, quieter.

  How amusing.

  As one lone figure lay breathless on the cot, a sudden smoke of black and deep red loomed next to him.

  Huh, was all the smoke hummed. Two slits formed on the entity, colours a demonic crimson. It witnessed the pitiful being. The other patients around it were fighting for their lives as well, completely unaware of the existence that had solidified next to the aging soldier.

  It had no mouth, yet a smile formed inside the flickering smoke.

  The poor soldier was on his last seconds. Once he drew out his fifth breath, all that would be left was a disgusting corpse.

  One breath.

  You are nothing but a pitiful mortal… A silent echo whirred into the soldier’s ears. The shadow hovered closer, looking down at the dying man.

  Two breaths.

  You lack motivation. The two slits widened, crazed as it glared at him. You lack perseverance. And for that, you do not deserve my attention. The darker line below the slits shook, cracked to what one could guess was an eerie smile.

  Three breaths.

  However, It’s ‘smile’ widened, you attract the traveler’s interest. The shadow tilted slightly. The man wheezed weakly.

  Four breaths.

  And I—The shadow reached out for his right hand—am interested in the traveler.

  Five—

----------

  This couldn’t be possible.

  “O-Oi!” Paimoun shouted, body floating as fast as it can to catch up. “Wait—Wait up!” she wheezed, one tiny hand reaching for her fast friend. And yet Lumine didn’t hear her. She couldn’t. For her mind was wholly clouded by the shocking news that was brought up by Gorou.

  “Her Excellency saw it with her own eyes and even did a full check-up on him.” Gorou’s words shrilled clear like a siren. “She even used her healing abilities to ensure that…you know…he’s not an undead or possessed.” His statement only made her run faster and faster.

  Minutes felt eternal, and when Lumine finally arrived at the headquarters in Sangonomiya, she wasted no time and slammed the doors open.

  The scene she made caused shock and confusion to both soldiers and locals alike. All eyes were on her, but a pair of dazzling golden starlight were on the man at the far end of the headquarters.

  Him.

  “Teppei!”

  Once his name escaped her lips. Once those warm brown eyes met her own. Lumine could feel her legs give out and her body flashing forward.

  Even with a gift bestowed upon him, never would he have anticipated the traveler’s tackle.

  “Oof!” His body was thrown aback, yet awareness and newfound strength allowed him to stand his ground instead of falling on his butt. Arms spread open. Eyes widened immediately. Legs shaking still from the impact, Teppei quickly tried to straighten his back with someone hugging him for dear life.

  “You’re alive…”

  Her voice was muffled, breathing brushed against the material of his shirt. “I—what?” Bafflement still bursting in his mind, he tilted his head downwards. All he saw was a sight of golden blonde. All he smelled was a scent of warmth and wind.

  “You’re alive!” Without warning, Lumine snapped her head upwards, meeting his shocked gaze. “You’re alive!” Statement now booming with baffled laughter, Lumine once more nuzzled her face into his chest.

  The scent was tickling his nose. Burning red in his cheeks.

  “I uh—” Realization kicked in; they were very, very close. “I-I am!” Words sputtered into a stutter, Teppei gave two thumbs up with arms still spread to the side.

  Laughter bubbled within her chest, tickling his own.

  He prayed that she didn’t hear his manic heartbeat.

  “I’m so glad…”

  The laughter was short-lived, however, as her voice lulled to a whisper. “Traveler?”

  “So…so glad…” Her hug tightened. Voice now broken to a slow, woeful murmur. “I’m glad…” A strain scraped through gritted teeth. Golden eyes were squeezed shut to prevent a fearful sight.

  A short gasp popped her lips to feel his embrace.

  “I’m glad too…” His voice was a gentle whisper, meek and shaky. “Very, very glad…”

  Cheek rested against his chest, Lumine pursed her lips and released a heavy sigh. “Mmm…” His arms felt hesitant around her petite body at first, but fear dissolved into relief once she felt his hug tighten.

  “Aww!”

  Relief, however, exploded into wild embarrassment once they realized they weren’t alone.

  Immediately both broke their hug, faces now flushed red and hearts thumping wildly against their ribcages. A pair of golden and brown targeted towards the two people standing before them. One had his face covered and body shaking in silent amusement. The other had her hands clapped and positioned adorably next to her cheek.

  “I’m so happy to see that smile back on your face, traveler!” Kokomi gleamed, her smile sincere yet laced with a hint of mirth. Gorou still had his face covered, though it seemed that his fit of giggles had ceased—for now.

  Ah, what a fool she made herself to be.

  “W-Well,” Trying her best to dig out of her hole she had made, Lumine straightened her posture and cocked her head upwards. “Why wouldn’t I be? To know that my friend is alive is more than enough to make me—”

  “How dare you left Paimon at the back!”

  “Ack!”

  Alas, before Lumine could save face, she wasn’t able to realize and stop Paimon from crashing into her.

----------

  In all honesty, Teppei still thought that he had died and gone to heaven.

  “It’s…real.” Tap, tap. One finger gently tapped onto the glass of the Vision case. A simmering shape of fire burned brilliantly inside the object. The longer he held it, the more he could feel warmth sipping into his body. One hand holding the Vision, he flipped his other hand left and right.

  There were no wrinkles. No drained colours of deathly blue. The same warmth could be felt into his palm. The same pulse could be felt inside his veins.

  “Still reeling it in?”

  Her voice was a brilliant beacon that lit him up. “Uh—yeah!” The answer stuttered sheepishly, Teppei looked at the traveler. Her smile was ever present. Her eyes gleamed gloriously like stars that he often basked in awe.

  Those stars now shined closely to him.

  “I just…” It’s been an hour since their reunion. After witnessing a scolding from Paimon to Lumine and apologizing endlessly to Lady Kokomi and General Gorou, both he and the traveler decided to rest by the lake near the headquarters. Peace wasn’t an option yet, however, as the tiny, floating being started shooting endless questions that he still found no answers to.

  “You have a Vision now!? You’re a Pyro user?! Holy moly you can control fire! You got blessed by the Gods! How? When? And you look like you’re back to your real age! You’re no longer a withering, dying old man!”

  It was truthfully amazing how Lumine handled Paimon on a daily basis.

  After trying his best to give an explanation that might work, Paimon finally reached an understanding and let him breathe.

  That, or she was hungry which made her fly off to the kitchen to recharge herself for more questions later.

  Either way, Teppei was grateful for the silence.

  Now all that’s left were him and the traveler. And while he knew she had just as many questions as her small friend, he was just glad that she allowed him to recollect his thoughts first.

  It had been a good 20 minutes. Reality still hadn’t set in.

  “This is mine…right?” Once again he looked at her, eyes clouded in hope and fear. Will it disappear? Am I actually dreaming or dead and this is just my mind giving me one last mercy? These questions bounced in his mind from the moment he woke up from the agonizing slumber. “It’s—I’m not holding someone’s missing Vision, right…?”

  “Teppei.”

  His body shivered briefly to hear such a gentle tone.

  Pupils dilated to see her hand, small yet callous, cupping his left hand. Quickly he looked at her again, not realizing that he had dropped his gaze back at the Pyro Vision.

  Her smile was radiant as the sun.

  “That is yours.” Reassurance sang melodiously into his ears. Her fingers curled his own, cupping the warm Vision closer. “You have a Vision.” Distance became a mere hindrance to her, so Lumine scooted closer. It was then that she saw his hair, dark as the day she first met him. His cheeks were rosy. His eyes shined brightly. No wrinkles cursed his skin. No fades of pale blue scrapped his face.

  He looked back to how he was before. Better even.

  Giddiness bubbled within her again. Though caution and confusion loomed inside her brain at the possible impossible, Lumine decided to gulp those fears down first and rejoiced at his living.

  Living. Alive.

  “You’ve received favours from the Gods.”

  It took a while for Teppei to get used to his new powers.

  While those words stung her tongue, clawed through her throat, what matters to her right now was that he was alive.

----------

  One couldn’t hone it so magnificently in a span of a day after receiving a Vision. Though Lumine wouldn’t know; she technically never gotten one.

  But as a month rolled by, and after rejoicing with his friends and teammates, Teppei easily bounced back as Captain of Herring I. Excitement fuelled his veins once he finally got the chance to wear his new uniform. A small logo in shape of a herring was stitched at the back, bare and open so proudly for everyone to see. His teammates now somewhat revered him as a miracle who came back from the jaws of death. And while a part of him felt bashful and slightly proud of the statement, Teppei knew he couldn’t gloat—at least, not too much.

  This was a gift by the Gods, after all. He was grateful. Truly. Whether or not the Vision he received granted him what was once stolen by the Delusion, Teppei knew this was something that shouldn’t be taken so lightly. Or rudely.

  A few more weeks flew by, and as a Vision bearer, he was now given a special task to train and hone his powers. And while that didn’t seem like a problem—in fact, Teppei was more than excited to train with General Gorou and Kazuha—he did feel the nerves kicking in when Lumine volunteered to join in the practice as well.

  “Alright!” Her right hand reached forward; immediately, her sword appeared seemingly out of nothing. “Show me what you got, partner!”

  Ba-dump!

  He really needed to have a talk with his heart later about the traveler calling him that.

  “Right!” Enthusiasm and anxiety spiralled together, Teppei hovered hands close to each other. Slowly, he tried to manifest the weapon into his hands. Apparently, according to General Gorou, Vision bearers were able to dissolve their weapons with their powers, enabling an easy access to it especially when they’re in a pinch. When Teppei heard of this fun fact, he was over the moon; what a very coincidentally accessible way!

  However, it was easier said than done.

  It took many, many, many tries. And finally, after a…few failed attempts, he was able to conjure up his lance.

  It took a few seconds—better than a few minutes, Teppei figured—the weapon finally materialized in his hands. “Got it!” Like a puppy, he beamed. Flickers of flame swerved around the lane, yet Teppei felt no pain.

  If anything, he felt elated.

  Never one to give up or step down, he concentrated again. This time, patience and practice showed its results as ribbons of fire wrapped around the lance. They decorated every so prettily, tickling his arm. Careful as to not position his lance near anyone besides his opponent, he posed a battle stance.

  “Ready when you are—” Brown eyes stared at her. His battle posture ready. His heartbeat sang madly. “—partner!”

----------

  Sometimes, he needed to remind himself that his own flames couldn’t technically hurt him.

  It was amazing. Jaw-dropping. Stunning even that he could stare at it for days. The tiny flicker of flames danced on his palms, hypnotizing him with such a sight. He curled one finger. Then another and another. His fingers went thru the fire. It gave such a tickling warmth, soothing both his palms and heart.

  “Heh…” A quiet chuckle peeped through smiling lips. Sitting alone by the lake, he slowly curled his fists, extinguishing the flames within. It tickled, he thought. Once again, he opened his hands, revealing clear skin that bore flesh, not bones.

  His heartbeat raced. Excitement. Fear. All whirled in his mind. Silently, he took a deep breath, then exhaled carefully as if relishing on each breath that coursed through his throat.

  He was alive. Living.

  Everything could change in a blink.

  Bringing that reminder close to his heart, Teppei nodded once. A new resolution formed firm. Stronger. Clearer. If this truly was a gift by the Gods. If this was truly a test he needed to fulfil and succeed, then he must carry on.

  Yes. One fist raised in the air. A smile curled confidently under the shine of the moonlight. I can do this!

  As one man basked on his goal, one woman stood from afar, hiding behind a tree and gazing at him with eyes a woeful glow and lips a tight purse.

  “Gift by the Gods.”

  The words sent a shiver down her spine. Burned fire in her chest.

  Gratitude burst brightly every time she saw him. But Lumine knew: not everything came without a price.

  The Archons she had met so far were nice, welcoming—although Ei had a rough start when they first met, both were slowly moving forward together to fix the future. But that was the thing that concerned Lumine the most.

  Not everyone would be sensible and sweet like Venti and Zhongli. And even with them, after having met Dainsleif and the unfortunate reunion with her dear brother, Lumine had to keep her guard up.

  He looked so happy. So alive.

  Ba-dump…

  One hand placed where her heart ached.

----------

  Some Vision bearers honed their powers until they were able to conjure up new skills. Some were able to form powerful shields. Some were able to heal and cure. Some even had the power to freeze even the mightiest of hilichurl chieftains.

  In Teppei’s case, he would soon find out that skills were sometimes found or created when one was put in a desperate situation.

  “Watch out!”

  All happened too fast. The moment he saw a samurai plunging his way towards her, Teppei could feel the wind and rain against his face. He saw Lumine turning around to face the enemy. He saw Lumine swinging her sword in hopes that it slices the samurai before his own could slice her.

  While he was not as fast as the traveler, he was quick enough to reach out for her.

  Quickly he tugged her left arm. Taken aback by the sudden force, Lumine felt her body being pulled backwards. Everything happened in mere blinks. Panic sinking in, Teppei stomped one foot forward—

  FWOOM!

  CLANG! CRASH!!

  A burst of fire shaped around them. The ringing clash of steel against solid fire reverberated amidst the heavy rain.

  The impact clearly took the samurai by surprise. The newly-formed shield ironically took Teppei’s and Lumine;s breaths away.

  Golden met brown. Stupor froze their body still. The shield was still active, still enveloped around them like a dome of flames. Lumine gawked at the tall captain, awe and bewilderment being her method of communication. It seemed Teppei understood her language, for both now shared their speechless conversation under the brilliant dome.

  “Um…” he gulped. “You alright?”

  She blinked once. Twice. “Yeah!” Laughter burst out amidst the stupor. “I’m fine!” One to easily register reality quickly around her, Lumine readied her battle stance again. The shield around them burned brighter. As eyes inspected the area around her, she realized that the same samurai that attacked just now started to stagger and stumble. His sword sheathed into the ground. Though donned in a helmet, Lumine could see him crouch slightly as if he was trying to catch his breath.

  He didn’t get hit by anything else after that. And the impact wasn’t as severe. If Lumine remembered correctly, the samurai only crashed against Teppei’s shield—

  Another realization jolted in. And her guess was swiftly proven correct as she felt an aura of strength pumping into her veins.

  It would seem Teppei would be excited to learn his newfound ability.

  For now, as both captains locked eyes and nodded, Lumine decided to break the great news later after they finished this battle.

----------

  Sangonomiya was truly a breath-taking place.

  Giant shells that stood proudly in the center of the land. Waterfalls that shined and gleamed every time it hit the surface. Even the lake was a like a beautiful mirror, revealing clear images of those who look upon it.

  However, as beautiful as the place was, it did have one flaw when it came to nightly weather.

  Maybe Ei was feeling at peace after their little tour, which would explain the soothing wind that blew past her. And while Lumine was happy to know that that might be case, unfortunately, her body would say otherwise.

  “Hey there, traveler!”

  Her head turned at the voice. Golden eyes caught the sight of the lone soldier who kept dancing in her mind lately. “Hi,” was her reply, short and sweet, yet enough to ring a bell of joy at his presence.

  Her bliss was a reflection to his.

  “May I join in?” His directed his hand at the empty spot next to her. A giggle was heard. A shaken head was seen. Smile curling swirls at the corners, Teppei took a seat on the bench. “Where’s your flying friend?”

  “Sleeping.” Another short reply, but not curt. Her head turned to one of the tents in the camp. “She had a big dinner so decided to call it a night.”

  “I see.” Brown eyes glanced at the tent, then back at her. “Why are you still up, though?” Curiosity led him to the question, but he didn’t realize how rude he might have sounded before he could stop himself. Teppei then flustered to see her eyes widen, probably offended, probably hurt that he thought she was some sort of child.

  “W-Wait, no I mean—” Both hands raised and waved. “I was just curious since we kinda had a long day and—”

  Laughter ceased him from making a further fool of himself.

  “It’s okay, Teppei.” One hand that stayed near her mouth slowly lowered down to her lap. “I understand. I just don’t feel sleepy yet.” The smile on her face grew genuine. It always seemed to be whenever he was around. “I just want to enjoy the night a little longer. I have a lot of energy compared to Paimon, anyways.”

  The joke got through him. A laughter was given as a response.

  “If she heard you, she would be mad.”

  “Which is why I’m saying it to you.”

  How light her chest felt whenever she talked to him.

  The conversation came smoothly. Teppei talked about his daily task as captain. Lumine responded with topics of her commissions and part-time role as captain as well. While the matter with Raiden Shogun had been resolved, there were still some internal conflicts that required attention. Lumine knew it would take some time to figure out a way to get to Sumeru, so she figured she might as well stay in Inazuma for a while. Who knows? Maybe she would find more information about her brother—

  “Achoo!”

  “Traveler?”

  A sneeze broke their conversation and her thoughts. “O-Oh,” she sniffed, “sorry. It just gets a bit cold in Sangonomiya that I kinda forgot to bring a coat.” Hands rubbed her prickling arms. Yet she didn’t feel like getting up. Not now. Lumine enjoyed talking to Teppei. The stress in Inazuma sometimes got to a point where it was unbearable, and the Herring I captain was one of the people who was able to lighten the burden in her chest.

  It seemed Teppei had the same idea about her as well.

  “Oh…” Thoughts whirled in his mind. Suddenly, an idea flickered in seconds. “I can go get a coat for you if you like! Don’t want my partner to be sick now, huh.” He laughed, cheerful and honest. Hands pressed on the bench, he started to get up. “I’ll be right back—”

  “Wait.”

  His body froze at the feel of her hand around his fingers.

  Brown and gold looked at their hands. Brown and gold then looked at each other.

  “Ah!”

  In unison, they gasped. Lumine immediately retracted her hand while Teppei dumbly plopped himself back onto the bench.

  “You don’t have to!” Heat kissed her cheeks as their roles were now reversed. “I’m not that cold. And besides, ever since you started sitting down, it actually feels warmer—”

  Foolish was an act that bounced back between the two.

  Realization kicked in. Fast. It was obvious in the blown pupils of his eyes. It was clear in the beautiful burst of red in her face.

  Sadly, Teppei was quite quick to catch up on things too. “R-Really?”

  Slim fingers curled slowly. Hands were still raised near eye-level. “Well…” Ah fuck it, she thought. “Really.” She figured there was no harm in being honest. Maybe some shame. “Maybe it’s because of your Vision, but you feel a bit…warmer than normal people.” Thankfully, she had seen and faced this sort of phenomenon with Amber and Xiangling. Although she technically had never hugged Diluc, the man did once offer her his jacket. And wearing it felt warm and toasty, so that was good enough research for her.

  His short laughter brought her attention back to him.

  “I do feel warmer than usual ever since I woke up from that long sleep.” A sheepish reply accompanied the growing red in his cheeks. “But I make sure this time that it wasn’t anything dangerous. Her Excellency said that it’s normal for a Pyro user like me to have some extra body heat.” White teeth gleamed beneath the moon’s glow. “You can say that I’m like a walking heater.”

  More laughter joined in, but it was one-sided this time.

  “Then…may I sit closer?”

  The laughter died down immediately, bafflingly.

  He couldn’t believe what she said. She couldn’t believe what she said.

  “If that’s alright with you…?” The question was timid, sheepish, bursting with shame. Lumine was ready to bolt off the bench and excuse herself for the night. Why would she ask him that, she wondered? The man was of pure heart ever since she met him. He was an honest friend, an enthusiastic one at that. Like most of the people she had met, Teppei’s intentions were true and genuine which became the very reason she was getting close to him—

  “I…don’t mind.”

  The wild tornado of feelings in her mind died down once she heard his reply.

  Those golden eyes were no match for the stars above. “Really?”

  Excitement was real in her tone. The sight of pure joy made his heart burst anew. “Really…” He sounded sheepish, bashful, yearning. One breath. Maybe two. Once he reassured himself that he was calm and collected, Teppei scooted closer. “It’s the least I can do for my partner.”

  She always hated how her heart cracked to hear that term.

  Sorrow was short-lived, hidden behind layers and layers of relief that she practiced over the centuries. “Thank you.”

  He always loved how his heart skipped a beat to see her smile.

  Slowly, the distance between then shrunk. Only an inch teased between their pinkie fingers. In seconds, Lumine could feel the warmth—his warmth. It truly felt soothing. Calming. Yet it also gave her a tiny surge of strength that tickled her stomach. She loved it. She adored it.

  She only wished she had more time to cherish it.

  “Thank you, Teppei…” Her voice mellowed. “For showing me around the Resistance. For helping me out in battles.” Silence was his response. A welcome for her to say further. “For pushing me to end this terrible Vision Hunt Decree.”

  His left fingers clenched rigidly next to her.

  “For coming back alive and well…” Her voice started to get slower. “For inspiring me…” Her eyes started to get heavier. “For cheering me up when I feel…down…” Her head bobbed forward. “For…” A yawn broke out, “being there…”

  Body acting out of reflex, Lumine leaned her head against his left arm.

  Her actions stunned him back to reality. As she talked to him—as if she was talking to herself—Teppei felt hypnotized. Brown eyes were fixed on her like trance. Healthy heartbeat skipped at the sound of her melodious voice. It wasn’t until he felt her body so close to him that Teppei almost jumped with face full of red.

  Silence hummed around them.

  The captain looked at her, entranced and bewitched by such a sight. “That’s a lot of thanks, partner…” Voice a shy murmur, he brought his free hand up to his face. A long sigh escaped his lungs. His right hand remained on half of his face as he stared forward.

  His whole body felt as if he was burning.

  Brown eyes glanced at the sleeping traveler next to him.

  But honestly, His left fingers twitched, stretched until his hand held her right hand, it doesn’t feel bad.

  The mad drumming of his heart echoed in his ears. The soothing sound of her voice kissed heat in his cheeks and neck.

  It doesn’t feel bad at all.

  “Sweet dreams, Lumine…” His left hand gently squeezed her right hand. His face slowly leaned closer to her to memorize every detail, to cherish every moment he had with this fated encounter.

  Ah, he thought, smile soft and shaky, I’m in trouble…

END

[youryanderedaddy]

Two-time

  I have a birthday today and this is my present to you, guys... it’s softer than usual, kinda messy, but I hope you enjoy it dot dot 

tw: mentions of sex, emotional manipulation?, non-consensual touching, possessive / obsessive behavior, reader has a dating trauma oops, angst, lots of crying :(

   It felt nice. His big warm hands on your skin, his skilled finders touching and digging deep on your most sensitive spots. His tongue on your neck and his palm resting between your soft thighs. Stroking your hear, whispering threats of a good time into your ear. You liked it. You liked the pleasure and the attention, the sweet words, the compliments - everything the handsome young man provided for you. Even the little routine you two had fallen into was nice, you didn't mind the way he woke up earlier and served you breakfast in bed, cuddling close to your naked body, radiating heat under the white puffy sheets. And today wasn't supposed to be any different.

 "Good morning, sleepyhead." Joe smiled upon seeing you yawn, stretching your sore muscles, your hair all messy and tangled, your eyes shining bright with energy. A beam of light ran trough your face, lighting it up, and you grinned cheerfully as you took the plate in your lap. The man sat next to you, staring while you ate in silence. His hand wrapped in your silky locks, massaging your scalp. You slowly leaned into the gentle touch, resting your head on your lover's shoulder.

 "I've been thinking about asking you something for a while now." He spoke out quietly, watching your chest rise and fall with every peaceful breath you took. You were so beautiful laying in his embrace, serene and angelic like a child. "Would you move in with me?" Jay added after a while. This was the moment he had been waiting for since the day he met you for the first time and it made his heart beat faster than ever, the butterflies already racing trough his clenched stomach in manic circles. "It would make me really happy to have you here with me." He admitted softly, tightening his grip on your shoulders, pulling you even closer.

 His words honestly surprised you. Some deep subconscious part of you waited, dreaded this moment, while the other hoped it would never come. But it was obvious, now that you thought of it - every relationship had layers and levels and it was only natural for yours to reach a new higher one. And just how much this scared you, forcing shivers down your back, suddenly breaking in cold sweat. Some things never changed in the end. People did nothing but push for more of you, never satisfied with what you had already given them. But you wanted to believe that Jay was different - he was a cool guy, always sweet and goofy, slow to anger, an understanding person and a great listener. You couldn't ruin another great thing because of an annoying misunderstanding yet again.

 "I am flattered." You started off carefully, your voice slightly colder than before as you drew away from the warm hug to look the man in the eyes. You needed to hold your ground without losing decency, no matter how tense the conversation was going to be. "You are one of my closest friends and you are an amazing lover." You reached out to pull away a lock of dark hair covering his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. You felt like a monster for what you were about to say, but it needed to be done. Otherwise you'd be lying not only to him, but to yourself as well. "But I am not ready for a relationship right now." You inhaled slowly, noticing how the light withdrew from Jay's pretty blue eyes. "Please, don't take it personally. I told you since the beginning that I am not one for commitment." You smiled softly at him, wiping away the traitorous little tear running down his red cheek. "We have fun, don't we?" You whispered under your breath, playing with the man's fingers, drawing circles on his palm to calm him down. "Isn't that enough?" Your lover finally raised his head to look you straight in the eyes, his all dark, icy, filled with sorrow and betrayal.

 "No." He replied sternly, roughly grabbing your arm. In the next moment the man pushed you onto your back, pinning your hands over your head. His face was twisted in pain and his teeth were pressed together, making his features appear harsh and sharp. Jay placed a small kiss on your collarbone before moving up, biting and licking the sensitive skin along the way until there was formed an ugly bloody mark. He didn’t stop at that - soon your whole neck was covered in hickeys, some bright red, some blue and some even turning purple. “I want you to be mine.” The man stated, his cheeks now wet with tears. His expression was desperate, his gaze hiding so much adoration and yearning. “I need you.” He kept going, burying his head in the curve of your neck while holding your body down. You couldn’t move and you had no idea what to say. In the end your friend was just like every other person in your life - greedy and obsessed with having you. You had so many dreams and hopes for the future, yet he wanted to lock you down because of his own selfish desires. 

 “If you don’t let me go this instant you will never see me again.” You stated in cold monotone voice, glaring at him with hatred. You couldn’t help it as you felt lost and hurt by the sudden switch in the man’s cheerful attitude. You tried to push him off, hoping that the whole act was one big distasteful joke, but to no avail. His strong body remained motionless, towering over you, and despite being very familiar with this position due to the countless nights of shared intimacy, this time it felt suffocating, frightening even. “Let me go!” You finally shouted, starting to get scared for your safety. At the moment you wanted nothing more than to go back home, lay down and forget this whole fiasco of a morning. 

 Jay quickly pressed his lips over yours, shutting you up before you could say anything else and hurt his feelings even more. His heart was already aching, bleeding, torn to million pieces scattered over the floor. The kiss was rough, hungry, devoid of any tenderness or consideration for your own feelings. It was wet and invasive, salty with the tears you were both shedding, nothing like the sweet seals of love you used to share in the past. 

 “I can’t live without you.” The man whispered, stroking your hair softly. He looked so miserable and broken down, yet he never loosened his grip on you. “One day you will understand exactly how I feel about you, beloved.”

[avengershumanresources]

blood 10 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 9 - part 11

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

10 - a trick

Peter had Sam and Clint notify the guard. Natalia and James secured the Queen and Princess Morgan, and before anyone had time to breathe, Peter stormed Obadiah’s bedchamber.

The king woke with a start, opening his mouth to protest the interruption and stopping immediately when the tip of a sword went to his throat. 

“Is this supposed to be a coup?” he mocked while Peter marched him out of the bedroom toward the throne room. “You’re in over your head, boy.”

Peter didn’t reply, keeping his sword up until they were securely in the throne room where Wong, Steve, and Thor waited with crossed arms. 

“King Rumlow will not stand for this,” Obadiah’s confident tone faded once Peter shoved him forward. “Whatever you’re planning, you’re outnumbered.”

“Per the law, if the council feels the king is unfit, he may be removed in favor of the next in line,” Wong recited. 

“He’s not of age!” Obadiah spat but Steve looked between the men. 

“A few months?” he asked the group. “I saw the records say his birth was yesterday, 22 years to the day.” 

“It’ll be noted,” Wong hummed, the quartet watching the king for his next move. 

“Traitors-,” Obadiah threw a finger between the men accusingly. “Where’s Strange? Not man enough to face me himself?”

“Uncle, if you step down peacefully, you can live out your days unbothered at the border,” Peter offered tersely, watching the manic man for any sudden movements. “Please.”

“Ha!” Obadiah threw his head back, taking a few steps away from the group. “Do you honestly think I believe that? You’ll send that bitch assassin or the cripple missing an arm after me.”

Peter saw Steve tense at the insults, but maintained a firm tone with the disgraced king. 

“Please uncle,” he tried to reason. “There are many who wish to see you punished for your transgressions-.”

“Transgressions?” Obadiah spun on to him. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve tried to bring peace to the kingdom. I’ve broken no law.”

“You ordered the death of my father,” Peter stated, unflinchingly. He stated the older, larger man down. “The punishment for treason is death and I am giving you the option of survival.” 

Shouting was beginning to rise from the courtyard outside the throne room. Flickers of torches and the whinnying of horses soon meshed into the sounds. 

“The men who wish to see you dead far outnumber anyone loyal to you,” Steve warned, eyeing the lights through the stained glass. “You have nothing to offer Rumlow, there’s no guarantee he’ll be willing to waste the men on a lost cause.”

There was a there was a crash from the hall outside the locked throne room door. Swords clanged against once another and the shouting grew louder. 

Turning to the men, Obadiah smirked when someone began slamming against the door. 

“Are you certain of that, Peter?” he asked, his grin growing wider. “Don’t think I was blind to your schemes. I know all that goes on in this castle.” 

He rounded on Peter, a finger prodding the prince’s chest. 

“I heard all about the tavern meetings with the Asgardians and this pathetic attempt on my throne,” he glowered down at him. “I knew exactly why the Asgardians were here, a betrothal, don’t be stupid! I knew about that little slut too. Now she’s with her weak father... probably lamenting how I outsmarted them. You’re a fool, Peter, and you’ll hang for this.”

There was a stunned silence, all eyes falling on Peter, who’d backed away with Obadiah towering over him. Shouts and banging could still be heard from the halls, a group now trying to break down the door. 

All at once, Peter let out a furious yell. He grabbed the front of Obadiah’s sleeping gown with one hand, the other going for a dagger at his side. 

“Do you see this knife?” he snarled, pricking the tip against Obadiah’s neck to draw a single droplet of blood. “My sister used it to defend against that beast you’ve brought into my home. Do you know who gave it to her? One of the most dangerous criminals in the next two kingdoms, pray tell me, uncle- what do you think they will do to do if I don’t kill you now? The assassin who so trusted my beloved sister, he gave her a weapon to defend from you?”

“You’re going to lose.”

“What will they do, Obadiah-,” Peter dug the blade a little deeper into the kings skin, making the man squirm. “When the truth of her death comes out? When the truth of my fathers death? The longest reign of peace and economic prosperity in generations. What will the farmers, whose crops Rumlow burned under your orders, do to you?”

“Peter!” the door burst open and Wong grabbed Peter, teleporting him, Thor, and Steve away before Amora could blast the group. 

She rushed toward the king, hands glowing, while she skimmed him over for injury. 

“The queen and princess are gone,” she reported. “My king rallied his troops the moment he caught wise of what the prince was planning. Sir, he still commits his men to you, per your agreement.”

“No marriage?” Obadiah practically stammered out. 

“My grace, the specifics can be dealt with, should we survive this treacherous siege, now hold on,” she grabbed his wrist and teleported with a cloud of green smoke. 

(—)

“The princess was moved to the crypt,” Loki reported once he met Stephen in the courtyard, his troops readying to support the guard within the castle. “One of the priests heard wind of the siege and gave her a quick blessing before fleeing.” 

That wasn’t part of the plan.

Stephen had done his best to ensure you would have been removed from the stone coffin before you could risk suffocating. With an active battle, there was no guarantee when he could rescue you.

“I have to move her now,” he realized at Loki’s urgent implication. 

“Better now than when the castle is burning,” the prince replied snarkily. His attention was caught by a large flame in one of the guard towers. Obadiah had resisted.

It was time. 

“Go, before I go myself to avoid this barbaric carnage,” Loki pulled on his battle helmet and began to rally his men. 

Stephen didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly drew up a portal to the Stark family crypt below the castle. He raced to the newest section of the tomb, where your grandfather and your father’s empty coffin sat under a carving of your great-grandfather.

He ignited the torches with a wave of his hand, immediately spotting the recently disturbed stone tomb. Raising his palm, he blasted the lid of the entrapment, pushing the stone aside and summoning a light to better see inside. 

To his relief, you were there, arms folded over your chest, body tucked in a hastily wrapped funeral shroud. He ripped the cloth back, pulling your unconscious body out of the stone chamber and draping you over his lap on the ground. 

A quick check of his spell, and it was still holding. Your seidr was still concealed and you were still alive, just in a deep, charmed, sleep. 

He scooped you up, throwing open a portal to the chambers he’d prepared at his home, and quickly draped you onto the bed. 

Sensing his magic, Wanda stepped through her own portal, glancing up at her friend in concern. 

“It’s early,” she noted with a tilt of her head. 

“Obadiah didn’t surrender or attempt to negotiate. Brock joined the attack,” he explained. “The king needs to rally the troops here and notify our allies.”

Wanda gave a curt nod, disappearing as quickly as she’d appeared. 

He returned his attention to you, lightly touching the seidr seal on your wrist and ensuring the spell would hold while he was out of sight.

“I will return my love,” he vowed, tucking a strand of hair out of your face and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He double checked the wards around the bedroom a final time before opening a portal to Tony’s encampment within his estate grounds. 

(—)

“Peter, what’s happening?” Pepper demanded when the trio sudden appeared in her chambers. James and Natalia were both in their feet, awaiting further instructions. 

“Where’s Morgan?” he demanded, moving through the room until he located his baby sister in the old nursery attached to the suite. “We have to get the two of you to safety.”

“She wanted to sleep, James and Natalia told us to stay ready, but-,” Pepper hurried after him. “Peter, what is going on?”

“I’m removing Obadiah from the throne,” he stated matter of factly, scooping up Morgan and grabbing a cook off a nearby hook. “Brock is trying to help him, but our men far outnumber theirs. You and Morgan are being moved to Kamar-Taj for the night, then into the Asgardian keep.” 

“And the lords and ladies?” she stammered out, overwhelmed by his calm demeanor despite the screams and fires outside. She absently took her daughter when Peter passed her off, watching James and Natalia assemble a few more essentials into a small silk bag before passing it off to Peter. 

“Long evacuated, the men who wished to fight still remain,” Steve supplied. “Wong and myself will be accompanying you to Asgard. Queen Frigga will provide passage to Asgard once Brock’s troops are recalled from the border and Amora’s mystic boundary is broken.”

“Kamar-Taj has a prepared trunk for you,” Natalia explained softly. “I put it together with Peter a few weeks ago. It should have what you need until you reach Asgard.”

“What about the rest of you?” Pepper’s gaze feel on Peter. “What will you do?”

“I’m going to kill Brock and Obadiah,” he promised confidently. “Overcome and conquer.”

Pepper paused, reaching for his face and cradling his jaw with her palm. 

“Your father would be so proud,” she whispered, the brief spell broken when an explosion sounded in the courtyard. 

“Magic,” Wong confirmed. “Amora probably summoned her apprentices. We need to move to ensure we are not followed.”

“Be safe, my sweet son,” Pepper kissed his cheek and followed after Wong and Steve, Morgan tucked tightly in her arms. “I love you.”

“Goodbye mother,” he replied, watching the spot in the room until the portal snapped shut and he was left with Thor and the assassins. 

“What now?” James asked, peeking through the queens window nervously. 

“There’s a passage down the hall that should lead you to the armory. Through there, you should be able to reach Loki and our combined men. Mordo and Stephen have called for reinforcements from Kamar-Taj, and they should be able to fend off magic users while we handle the rest.”

“Asgardian forces will be here by dawn,” Thor promised. “With another wave due before nightfall.” 

“Obadiah won’t be missing for long,” Peter continued. “He’s a pig, but not a coward. He will want to oversee things in person, likely with Brock. That’s when we hit them and end this.”

“And Amora?” Natalia quirked a brow. 

“Leave that to Loki,” Thor muttered grimly. “He has a score to settle with the Enchantress.”

(—)

You jolted up with a gasp. 

The room was dark, but something unfamiliar about it sent the seidr in your veins prickling through the goosebumps on your skin. 

Reaching around, you swallowed anxiously. The bed was all wrong. The fabrics not the silks and cotton you’d grown up with. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, you realized you weren’t in your bed chambers at all. 

A yell and response outside the window had you scrambling to your feet, spying a number of fires burning in the dark sea of land outside whenever you now found yourself. 

Your groggy brain ran through its last memories. The assault. The conversation with Stephen. 

The sleeping draught. 

How powerful had it been?

You looked down at your hands, a faint glow of violet emitting from your hands and up your arms. You’d barely had time to examine it when the door to the room burst open. 

“You’re not supposed to be awake-,” Wanda stated, swooping on you and catching sight of the seidr. Eyes wide, she tried subduing the small bit of magic, but the moment the crimson tendrils tried touching the violet, the seidr grew brighter and spread more thoroughly over your body. 

“What is going on-?” You reached for your skirts and realized your dressing gown had been changed to a deep crimson formal gown. “Where is Stephen? Where is my home?”

“Princess,” Wanda reached for your hand, but the seidr snapped back at her and she pulled away. “I don’t know what’s happened. Stephen is... I can better explain...” 

She looked overwhelmed, her eyes constantly dropping to watch the raw power radiating off of you. 

“You’ve been asleep for two days, almost three nights,” she stated briskly, and you shook your head, frowning. 

“That’s impossible,” you whispered. 

“The sleeping potion Stephen gave you... it was to mimic the effects of death,” she continued softly. “We’re at the main keep for his family. Princess, the kingdom is at war.”

“Wanda, you were supposed to seal it, what’s taking so-,” Loki stopped in the doorway of the room. “Princess.”

He looked as bewildered as Wanda to see you standing and alert. And twice as concerned with the seidr energy coming from you. 

“That’s not good,” he stated bluntly. “Amora is going to see you like a beacon in the night.”

“Brock’s men have secured the castle already, if he knows she’s alive-,” Wanda agreed, speaking quickly and tersely with the prince. 

“Alive? Of course I’m-,” you paused. Mimic the effects of death. Eyes growing wide with realization as to what Stephen had done, you huffed a sigh. “Brock is still aligned with Obadiah?”

“It’s tentative,” Wanda replied. “But if his Stark bride is alive and well...”

“He’s already calling troops through the Kree empire, and the sea artillery is moving toward Asgardian waters,” Loki frowned, reaching forward and trying to calm your magic with his own. When it spat back at him like Wanda’s, his lips formed a thin line of concern. “Strange’s seal was so powerful I couldn’t sense it, so he isn’t holding right now because of the princess. There’s something else keeping him by Obadiah’s side. This will just soldifiy whatever deal they’ve struck. We need to figure out how to seal the seidr.”

“Could she just learn to control it?” Wanda offered. “I don’t think external means are going to suppress it much longer.”

“Wanda, how long did it take for you to learn to hide your own essence from enemies?” Loki pressed. “We need to locate Stephen.”

Eyes glowing, Wanda nodded and disappeared, presumably to retrieve the sorcerer in question.

“Loki, is my family-?” you started and he nodded. 

“Your mother and sister are in Asgard,” he replied. “Peter is...”

“He’s on the battlefield,” you finished with a knowing sigh. “Do we stand a chance?” 

“The Wakandans have mobilized and will be sending reinforcements soon,” he explained, gesturing for you to hold out the hand with the seal on your wrist. “Incredible. Your power... destroyed the rune. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The Wakandans have no loyalty to Peter,” you voiced, furrowing your brows. Are they aligned with Asgard?” 

“Well, no-,” he started. “They stand behind House Stark but, there is an important thing you should know now that you’re awake.”

He drew a portal, knowing her couldn’t teleport with your present state, and led you to what looked like a massive dining hall within the same building.

Hundreds of men were resting, some singing ballads and others sharing large bowls of stew and bread. 

You looked to Loki for explanation. 

Was Stephen hurt? Had your brother perished? 

He stood stoically, his gaze falling on the back of a man tending to an infantryman’s dressings. When he turned his head, you gasped and rushed over. 

“Father..?” you hesitated, his face was covered in mud, and he’d grown a large beard, but as soon as you saw his eyes, you knew. 

“Look who had risen from the grave,” he teased. “Welcome to the afterlife. It’s not quite what the priests suggested-.”

You cut him off, throwing your arms around his shoulders. 

“You’re alive,” you stammered in awe. “I... how? They say a pike went through your chest.”

“Oh, about that...” he touched the from of his chest. “Loki is a very skilled healer, and Wanda foresaw that particular complication... it’s a long story, best served for better conditions.”

“The seidr broke the potion’s effects,” Loki stated, looking down at the soldier and waving a hand over his bloodied wound. The wound was immediately cleaned and the soldier’s eyes drifted shut, his chest soon rising and falling in a peaceful sleep. “We’re trying to locate Stephen. Wanda and myself couldn’t interact with her.”

“I see,” Tony looked to you, eyes following the new elements of magic dancing lazily over your upper body. “Certainly the wards around the keep should continue to mask it?”

“For now,” Loki reported. “If Amora approaches too close, it could mean exposure.”

“You knew about all of this as well?” you looked to your father, still struggling to keep up with everything being said and plotted. She turned to Loki. “And you knew he was alive”

“And Wanda,” Loki added. “Natalia, and more recently, Stephen.”

“What?” you blinked in surprise. That wasn’t right. Stephen certainly would have told you. 

“We couldn’t risk Amora catching on,” your father quickly sensed your shift in emotion. “She was watching you because of your seidr, trying to tamper with your thoughts. You had to be left in the dark until we knew you were a safe distance from her.”

“Amora is a very powerful magic user who betrayed the trust of my mother and yours,” Loki informed you, his hand tensing at his side. “We couldn’t risk her getting ahead of our plans.”

“That’s going to go to waste if we can’t continue the charade you’re dead,” Tony clarified. “Brock is only barely allied with Obadiah. We have the numbers right now, but if he becomes serious about taking our kingdom, he and the Northern Kree far exceed our men, the Asgardians, the Wakandans, and the Southern Kree.”

“Your grace,” a blonde woman in knights armor approached and bowed her head. You noticed that the blood from the cuts on her cheeks was teal- a Kree. “King Odin is riding for us. He will be here within the hour, ready to provide more men.”

“Thank you Lady Carol,” Tony nodded while the female knight bowed and exited the room. Your eyes trailed after her in a dazed stupor. You’d never seen a female knight before. You’d read that the Kree society was more favorable to the female gender, but you never would have imagined the Kree would let a woman directly report to a king. 

“We need Frigga,” Tony sighed.

“We would have to ride to Asgard ourselves. The mystic boundary Amora out on the borders of too powerful, no one has been able to teleport or portal through it,” Loki grumbled. 

Tony cursed under his breath and stood, a hand on your back, guiding you through the mess of cots and soldiers. Some were injured, most were just worn from battle and resting until they were called upon again. 

Leading you and Loki out of the hall, Tony stopped once he was certain you were alone. 

“Only the sorcerers and myself are aware of your situation,” he murmured. “Peter and the queen are none the wiser. We need to keep you within the walls of this keep until Stephen is located and we have our next steps.”

“Can I help at all?” you asked, feeling more like a prized hen than someone who was useful. “I know some healing salves and wound mending?” 

“We can’t risk it,” Loki looked to Tony who was considering the suggestion. “One incident with the uncontrolled seidr and that could be the end of us.”

“My sweet, I’m sorry,” Tony pulled your head in and kissed the top of your hair. “It won’t be long until Stephen arrives and we can make a clearer decision.”

As if on cue, Wanda appeared, blood coating her hands and the dark robes she wore. 

“Stephen was injured in battle,” she explaine, Loki quickly teleporting with her without another word. 

“I bet he’s in the master suite,” your dad mused, a wink in your direction. “He has all of his potions and trinkets in there for emergency.”

You paused, hesitating between leaving your newly alive father, and being by your love’s side. 

“I’m needed in a war council,” he answered the dilemma. “We can catch up when the world isn’t burning around us.”

He gave your hand a final, reassuring, squeeze before giving you a quick layout of the keep. You thanked him, promised to keep him updated, and dashed down the halls. 

As you hurried, you felt your dress restricting your movements, and briefly considered trousers to be a more apt clothing option for the moment. 

It was when you felt the restriction around your legs disappear when you looked down and saw your clothes had shifted. Your crimson gown now crimson trousers, your corset a more reasonable bustier, and a cloth shirt tucked under a matching jacket with the Stark sigil subtly embroidered on the chest. 

Stopping in shock at the change, it occurred to you that the seidr had merely been responding to your mental requests.

That, you could get used to. No wonder Stephen and Loki were always ready for balls and events faster than you. 

You picked up your pace, rushing through the halls until you found the master suite exactly where your father had told you. 

A maid was shuffling out as you approached and you quietly slipped in, doing your best to ignore the blood saturated towels tucked under the maids arms. 

“It was a toxic arrow,” Wanda was explained to Loki. “It isn’t allowing the blood to coagulate properly. He’s going to bleed out.”

“I imagine Amora had something to do with this,” Loki murmured, glowing emerald hands hovering just over the gushing wound. “Strange. Stay with us. Stay awake.”

You were discarding your jacket and rolling up your sleeves, moving toward the makeshift apothecary stand while Stephen kept his eyes squeezed in pain.

“If she enchanted the poison or venom before applying it, we should be able to pull the toxins magically, right?” you recalled from a text you’d read during one of the long nights in the observatory. 

“I’m trying to, but I can’t detect any traces of magic in the wound,” Loki replied tensely.

“I tried isolating a few drops of his blood to detect any foreign components, but the poison is too powerful. It’s using the body’s defenses in its favor,” Wanda looked rattled, a far cry from her usual, composed, demeanor. “If we had more time, I know I could find the proper antidote, but he’s going to bleed out before then.”

Your fingers hovered over the herbs and elixirs, eyes shut while you considered their words and tried to recall the specifics of what you’d learned under his tutelage. 

“Is it actively poisoning his body, or just preventing the wound from clotting?” you asked, your finger twitched toward an herb used to create fiberous seals on wounds from cuts.

“Preventing the cut from sealing,” Wanda reported back, watching Loki try and fall to seal the wound magically. All the rags and bandages he piled ontop of the injury just continued to saturate through. “Bandages are not working. He’s bleeding through everything.”

“We need ice on the wound,” you called out, throwing the proper herbs and liquid into a mortar and pestle. “Shrink the blood vessels and slow the bleeding temporarily.”

Loki’s hand turned to ice and he pressed it on the skin around the injury. 

“It’s working,” Wanda called back.

“Clean the area,” you instructed, the paste now smooth and plentiful. You turned and searched the room for extra bandages, finding some by a pile of Stephen’s ripped and bloodied robes. 

You passed the remedy and bandages to the sorcerers at his bedside, knowing your seidr would prevent you from making close contact with him. The thought in itself breaking your heart. You wanted to wipe the sweat from his forehead, press a kiss to his hand and promise all would be well.

“Put the paste on the bandages and cover the wound. Keep applying the ice until we can get the bleeding to slow,” you watched Wanda move swiftly in tandem with Loki, pressing the seal to the injury and letting the prince take over applying pressure and ice. 

“Princess?” Stephen’s voice called, almost delirious.

“I’m here,” you moved within his eyesight, a smile thrown on your features to conceal your deep worry for him. “What did I tell you about getting shot with arrows, my love?”

“You never mentioned arrows,” he grunted, eyes opening briefly to take you in and closing when he winced in pain. “Next time be more- hngh- specific.”

“Next time don’t get shot,” you countered playfully, eyes falling to the white bandage at his abdomen. Ideally, only a little blood would be able to get through. It’d buy enough time for Loki and Wanda to find a better remedy without letting him bleed out. 

“It’s working,” Wanda announced, jumping and moving to the large library of books scattered around the room. Her hands began to glow, her fingers pulling texts off the shelves and discarding them almost as fast.

“Strange, were you injured anywhere else?” Loki asked tersely, eyeing a cut by the sorcerer’s eye. “We need seal all of your cuts, just in case.”

“Face,” Stephen replied after a pause. “Hands.” 

Loki got to work, smothering the bandages with the salve and covering the cuts. 

“Got it,” Wanda held up a book victoriously. “Antidote will take a few hours to prepare. Loki, you’re going to need to move to the front line. Let Peter and Thor know what is happening. I’ll make sure there’s enough for everyone afflicted.”

“I hadn’t heard any reports of similar circumstance,” Loki murmured, looking back down at the bandage to ensure it was still holding. “This seems personal.”

“To our favor then,” Wanda hummed, summoning her ingredients and moving quickly through the steps. “I will report this to King Anthony. Go.”

Loki disappeared with a flash of light, leaving only traces of smoke where he stood.

“You’re not supposed to be awake,” Stephen realized after you’d seated ourself next to him. 

“The seidr had other plans,” you noted softly. “Do not worry, we will address each problem as it’s necessary. You need to rest.”

“Wasn’t I just tell you that?” 

“Then listen to your own words, you do often boast of how good your own advice is,” you teased. 

He reached for your hand, but you pulled away, frowning apologetically at him. 

“The seidr is… it doesn’t like magic-users at the moment,” you explained quickly.

“That’s… unfortunate,” he mumbled, lolling his hand forward and staring up at the ceiling. “Ever the more reason not to die, I suppose.”

(—)

11- a battle cry 

TAG LIST (message to be added!):

@ayamenimthiriel @ladynothing 

@im-a-bi-disaster-help @idkwhatthisislol 

@bluefaeriefury​ 

[reversecreek]

snickers feverishly at myself for bringing in a 5th... who do i think i am? unstoppable? invincible? suddenly ripples my titanium plated pecs. maybe so. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here. 

* margaret qualley, cis female + she/her  | you know bradley milligan, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to looking for knives by dyan like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole snow angels trampled through by your father’s footprints, casually reading a newspaper that’s catching flame & stubbing a cigarette against the wing mirror of a parked cop car thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 11th, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY:

bradley has this memory of meeting her grandmother for the first time n everything in the room was frozen still. even the air. she didn’t feel like she cld move n she got the impression this is how it’d always been in the milligan lineage. the only thing that was allowed to act of it’s own accord was her grandmother’s eyes as she tracked every slightest flinch of muscle. when her father left the room her grandmother reached out and took bradley’s hand n bradley looked at this like it was smthn she’d never seen before until her grandmother leaned close and all she could stare at was a nicotine stain on one of her front teeth. “he’s cold, isn’t he? he’s always been cold. i don’t think he’s mine.” bradley could tell from how tight she held her hand that he was. she could tell by the way she smiled as she said it, too. the way she felt obliged to smile back.

growing up in a huge white house in aquila drive w pruned hedges sounds idyllic n looks it too. swanky cars w tinted windows in the long driveway. always men filing in and out under the cloak of night wearing expensive suits n smiles worthy of a politician’s billboard. bradley’s mum alyssa thought so too n that’s hw she got into this whole mess tbh. tony milligan is very good at advertising. he cld package a jarred human heart as strawberry jam and convince u to spread it on ur toast if he wanted to. he could make u smile politely as u ate ur own. 

alyssa ws this very pretty blonde kind of mysterious presence in a room. everyone wanted to kno her story or fk her but noone rly treated her like a person more just like a puzzle to solve. john green syndrome alert..... literally manic pixie dream girled bt on turbo charge. there were vague whispers she’d run away from home when she appeared in town out of nowhere bt nothing concrete. tony decided he wanted to crack the case n once he set his mind to something there was no changing it. they wound up embroiled in a whirlwind romance. head over heels. he came at romance hard and fast as a freight train. alyssa knew he was into shady things but not quite the full extent of it n honestly she didn’t care bc she wanted security n a family to call her own n tony promised that. they were married within a year. 

tony came frm money bt he wanted to carve his own path n make his own legacy. destined fr greatness he’d tell her. we’re destined for greatness. it sounds nice doesn’t it! alyssa thought so too.

(drugs mention tw) slowly over the yrs he essentially forged his own crime organisation tht only grew. he opened a strip club down the seedier side of irving called ‘no angels’ n this became the front thru which his gang ran drugs in the back (predominantly coke n they pride themselves fr having a Superior Blend apparently) as well as laundering cash n this also was kind of their home base to hang

(abuse tw) their marriage increasingly lost it’s shine n alyssa came to realise she’d been sold a lie n she didn’t rly know this person or what he was capable of right around the time bradley was born. by then it was kind of like Wow i am rly in this n there is not an exit door huh. i won’t go into details bt things were not good at all. bradley witnessed n experienced a lot of things she shouldn’t have growing up. she didn’t understand why other kids drew home in all these different coloured crayons like they were bright places to be. she didn’t understand why everyone got so excited when the bell rang at the end of the day bc she just felt sick. she rationalised tht this was normal when she was younger bc sometimes kids talked abt the monsters under their beds giving them nightmares n she thought mayb they were talking abt their dads too. as she got older she realised tht actually her world wasn’t the same as anyone else’s n she also realised no-one wld ever be able to tell her why. she started becoming friends with the angry feeling in her chest tht she used to try and swallow around this time. often she’d wander the mall for a while to put off going home. smoke on random park benches. watch trains rattle thru town from the vantage point of a random rooftop. 

(abuse, missing person implied, murder implied & grief tw) when bradley was 12 she woke up and all of her mum’s clothes were gone frm their drawers. no shoes anywhere. a framed photo of them at the beach holding bradley as a baby vanished from over the mantelpiece. when bradley asked her dad what was going on, tony essentially said “it was exhausting her. being here. being your mother. she didn’t want to do it any more, so now she’s gone” n then he hugged her. little details leaked into the mix over the yrs. at one point tony dismissed her as having flown overseas to a foreign country to drink in the sun like she’d always wanted even tho alyssa always told bradley she liked the snow best (once she even walked outside as it fell in a thin lace nightgown when tony was out n when bradley said “mom you’re gonna get cold” she only tugged her down and made her do snow angels until her lips looked blue). the most significant memory bradley can never shake from her head is her mother cupping a yellow tulip at the park n saying she hated them. when bradley asked why she only turned and smiled at her as she stroked the hair from her face n then said “because they look so happy”. after bradley’s mum vanished a long flower bed at the bottom of the garden was suddenly overrun with dozens of freshly planted yellow tulips. whenever bradley looked at them out of her window she got this sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach like she was visiting a cemetery. she suspected what had happened to her mum (especially as rumours circulated within tony’s organisation abt alyssa being unfaithful with someone tht used to work fr him) bt she cld never bring herself to truly accept it. thus she ws stuck in this strange purgatory state of not-quite-anger at her mum for “leaving” and not-quite-grief.

bradley rly started to transgress in school after her mum was gone. alyssa was always kind of a character when she’d pick bradley up (wasn’t doing well n acted kind of ‘eccentric’ i suppose u cld say) so tony managed to spin it all as a child acting out in the wake of an unfit mother uprooting n abandoning. bradley became........ interesting. JKHGFSSKJGHFSGHSKFGHFG. she’d snap n resort to violence very easily. very desensitised to it. students were kind of scared of her tbh. as this progressed into proper high school she got in w the more rowdy popular crowd solely bc she was so fking.... wild for lack of a better word. rly would just do anything fr the thrill. had no sense of ‘i shouldn’t do this bc it’s dangerous’. partied harder than anyone. bit back harder than anyone. no filter. hung w a lot of guys honestly bc they had less morals n either found her scariness cool or wanted to fk <3

(hospitalisation, depression & drugs tw) she’s had. a few stints in psychiatric institutions fr various reasons tbh. missed a small chunk of her senior yr fr this but it wasn’t widely known just kind of rumoured. she showcases a lot of similar symptoms to her mum who struggled w severe depression (which was difficult to cope w when ur husband was often pouring ur prescription down the drain fr kicks) n in order to compensate fr the lows she takes a lot of things to kick them into highs. drinks n snorts too much. bradley i love u bt i’m begging u to seek healthier coping mechanisms......

as the yrs went on (especially once alyssa had gone) tony rly started trying to integrate bradley into the business side of things...... she literally. is named bradley bc he was expecting a boy n he was like well let’s still call her bradley. n had in mind she’d still fulfil the role he wanted her to of being his little protege so to speak.... both sexist n ugly all in one fell swoop...... an example of this is he literally. bought her a mint green switchblade for her 14th birthday n named it tinkerbell bc it would “die without attention” aka using it. tht sounds like a healthy gift to give a child tony congratulations sis <3

in an ideal world bradley wld have gone to uni to study psychology bc she jst wants to know how the fk her dad is literally like that bt she probably stuck around n is now managing no angels along with billy n marco (billy’s in her dad’s gang n is, u guessed it, a cunt, n marco is his sort of right hand man so to speak) bc tony’s in the closest neighbouring city overseeing a second ‘no angels’ opening up there to expand into a franchise n widen their income margins. bradley wld also be sort of used as a honey trap type deal once she got older if they needed to lure ppl places n sometimes still is bt it depends. the guys in the club all know not to mess w bradley bc she’s tony’s daughter n literally kind of scary herself sometimes bt there’s also this certain allure tht comes with being the boss’ daughter n it kind of comes across in how they act or talk abt her. yes i will kill them all n no i won’t feel bad abt it <3

think that’s kind of all u need to kno history wise... blinks one eye out of sync w the other..... runs to personality

PERSONALITY:

a phrase i wld always use to describe bradley in old intros is “like a cup of black coffee with one grain of sugar that u don’t taste until the last sip”. also dark chocolate. lime. liquorice. she’s an acquired taste n i feel like u either love her or u hate her. 

cannot express how unpredictably chaotic she is..... frequently throws a drink in a stranger’s face jst to start something bc she’s bored. loves to hurl cheese slices across the room so they slap onto someone’s face out of nowhere. likes smashing things. stubbing cigarettes out on faces in framed family photographs. will literally pick a lock n then smash the window besides it to defeat the whole purpose just bc she found how neat it was boring. does anything fr the adrenaline n thrill. gets into far too many fights n fights dirty. probably been thrown out of every bar in town at least three times. banned from a bunch too.

she’s witty bt she has a dark sense of humour..... can be quite mean.......... loves to roast ppl for no reason........ honestly has some nathan young frm misfits aspects in that sense like jst seems untouchable emotionally n like she doesn’t take anything seriously n is fking outrageous about it.....

has this quality abt her tht kind of scares herself sometimes. it’s like she recognises parts of her dad in her. she’s very perceptive (bc she’s had to be over the yrs trying to read every micro-expression of her dad’s to predict what’s next) n like emotionally intelligent in a way which is ironic bc her own emotions r just an absolute minefield.... bt. she can read people quite well. gets this eerily calm look abt her sometimes n it’s jst like god what’s. she thinking. what’s she’s gna do. i’m shaking. a cool n controlled kind of rage can often be scarier than the explosive type n bradley does that well. grits my teeth n tugs on my collar....

very strong on the surface. hates being vulnerable. has this ingrained idea that crying is childish or rly any kind of emotional display within herself. 50% not taking things seriously 50% angry. tht’s how she comes across....... internally? whole different story. bt ppl don’t see that.

very cavalier abt some things. will flash her tits n not even think abt it. jst very out there...... one of her closest friends is a homeless man named joe who wears neon purple fishnets on his head n loves to spit on ppl from over an underpass. finds eccentric ppl like this funny n surrounds herself w them. loves to be kept on her toes.

LOVES driving stolen cars down the wrong side of the highway. it’s a lot.

fiercely loyal to a fault to a select few bt if u wrong her personally this can switch pretty quick. quite a force to b reckoned w n will hold a grudge. bt like. if ur a Chosen One she’d bury a body for u no questions asked. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

deals to u: bradley isn’t like full time into dealing bt she does do it sometimes.... treats it kind of like a hobby bc the lesser ranked can do tht shit as far as she’s concerned bt.. sometimes also jst gets bored n is like. why not. might be chaotic. mayb they’ll try to rob me <3 we love the thrill <3 or like..... if ur friends w her she’ll deal to u n no she will not do a friends discount <3 or if she does there will definitely be some sort of stipulation attached <3

high skl crew: if ur muse is local n ws an absolutely demonic hell spawn in high skl tht went to 1974547254 parties n was outrageously chaotic n rude then. bradley probably was friends w them <3 her friendships tend to be surface level bt they’d definitely go out a bunch bt whether they actually knew a lot abt her life is debatable bt we could explore options fr this

people who work at no angels: no angels is her dad’s strip club in irving that she kind of helps to run now. it’s kind of a shifty environment. the place where ud have an outrageous bachelor party. u go for the first time w a fake id n u get served bt u also get ur wallet stolen n ur convinced someone spat in ur drink n u also kind of think there might b a hit on u now after u made eye contact too long w a broad shouldered man smoking in a back booth. scary environment. testament to her dad as a person. maybe ur muse is a dancer there or works the bar or security or whatever u name it....

ma’am are u ok?: ur muse found bradley passed out across two bus seats one time in smudged dark eyeliner a silver slip dress n the world’s chunkiest combat boots this town hs ever seen. sometimes she winds up in spots like this when she goes too hard n it’s absolutely dangerous n reckless bt that’s jst bradley <3 mayb they forged an unlikely friendship frm this strange meeting or maybe even? dare i say it? a romance? opposite worlds colliding? good influence? let’s go crazy. release ur inhibitions. feel the rain on ur skin.

hook-ups: bradley’s cavalier abt this stuff..... very unemotional typically..... mayb we cld do an unrequited thing that wld be angsty n fun altho i won’t lie i don’t kno if she’d be the one to catch the feelings.... she rarely sleeps over bt once when she woke up in someone’s bed she hiked over to straddle them carefully as possible so they wldn’t wake up n then pressed her knife to their neck as a fun little surprise where she said boo when they opened their eyes.... she’s a lot clearly.

watermelon slugger, hiiii: bradley has this habit where she gets a bunch of watermelons n then goes to a rooftop n throws them over the edge to watch them explode when they hit the pavement.... maybe ur muse almost got hit by one once n were like WTF???????? another quirky meet cute moment like the bus one <3 can’t stop w them <3 maybe she randomly invited ur muse to do it w her when they were like. a stranger of f the street. she was bored. decided to adopt them as a science experiment. we cn elaborate on this probably....

ouch charlie: similar territory bt she also sometimes shoots pedestrians w a bb gun from rooftops. mayb ur muse wld always get hit by one on a certain route they walked n finally one day they saw her head ducking down behind a ledge n then they see her in the street one day n are like HEY IT’S YOU............. WTF? n bradley’s like ya i’m christ risen again it’s a lot to take in i know...

rly jst anything... mutually destructive friends... exes.... in one rp a character tried to get close to bradley so he cld write an expose all book about her n her family which i found so fking funny so i’ll request that again.... people she’s fought.... ppl whose gf/bf she’s fk’d n it’s caused enemy status.... someone whose place she broke into and shaved their eyebrows off in the night only to draw them on again in crudely thin permanent sharpie lines.... roommates cld be fun n sexy i’d love that actually.... jst anything rly. go wild. kisses everyone tenderly on cheeks.

[thethousandyearwitch]

Eye for an Eye

A "Medical Experimentation"/Black Market Surgery KakuHida fic, because it came to me in a dream.

"Hidan wakes up after a wild night, only to find himself in an uncomfortable and yet enticing predicament featuring a good looking stranger and the miracle of Jashin. And maybe both parties can get something out of this situation..."

Rating: Explicit due to some gruesome talk

Ship: KakuHida

Words: 1702

AO3 Link

Nauseating Darkness. That was the first thing Hidan perceived when he woke up. The feeling of a room, that you’re not even seeing, spinning.

He should have known that this would happen, after the hot bartender kept pouring drinks on the house before he could even finish them. It wasn’t his intention to get drunk off his ass, but free alcohol and shallow compliments from some goth chick can change a night quite quickly.

Reflexively, the man tried to turn to his side to soothe his nausea, only to feel a firm resistance on his wrists. The restrictive movement called his attention toward how cold he felt overall, and how fucking uncomfortable whatever he was laying on was. At the same time, he could hear some movement close to him come to a halt.

“Hey, hey, I’m not in the mood for some BDSM games, I think I’m gonna hurl.” He slurred and tested the restrains again. A gurgle crept up from his abdomen, and the suffocating darkness still wasn’t giving way to any light.

“What the fuck.” A deep voice echoed, definitely not from the cute bartender that Hidan had hoped he took home with him. It wasn’t a question, more of a baffled statement. The young man wasn’t a stranger to taking men home with him, but this was definitely not planned, and the unclear discomfort from his abdomen that stretched all the way to his sternum was enough of a boner-killer that he just wanted to get a shower and a prairie oyster.

“Dude, just, uncuff me, get this fucking blindfold off, and I promise I’ll write you a 3page essay apology for the missed sex or whatever.”

“What- No, stop. Listen closely to me.” The deeper voice came steadily closer, and Hidan was sure he could feel the warmth of another body inching closer to his. “I am not about to fuck your sorry ass. You had some real bad luck, and drew the interest of one of my clients, who paid me to remove your eyes and a couple of organs.”

The spinning inside of his head only got worse, and Hidan let out a confused groan. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“There’s no blindfold, dumbass, your eyes are already sitting on my desk ready for pick-up. I don’t even know how or why you are alive; you’re probably banged up on some drug cocktail that cancelled mine out. But you’re going to bleed out any second. No hard feelings.”

Oh. He’s been tricked. Of course, free drinks are never truly free, but he’s never paid with organs before. First time for everything.

The pressure on his body became clearer to him now. He could feel the burning edges of an incision, reaching roughly from 1cm below his bellybutton up to the tip of his sternum, between the 6th and 7thrib. The foreign body that squirmed itself under his ribcage, wrapped itself with learned precision around his heart, that could only be a human hand.

“Can you not afford a bone saw like any other unlicensed doctor?” Hidan laughed and could feel the pressure on his lungs. Every muscle in his body slowly started to follow his command again, warming back up with steady relaxation and contraction.

“I don’t need to justify my expenses to a dead man talking. I don’t care about leaving a neatly chopped up body, and neither does my guy who’ll get rid of you after the job.” Something cold and sharp pressed against Hidans Aorta, a scalpel, he was sure. “Any last words?”

The pain from the incision gave way to a booming headache, itching and scratching the inside of his skull. Slowly, white spots came into his visions, like a night sky that revealed itself one star at a time. “Yeah, what’s your name, asshole?”

“…Kakuzu. Goodby-“Before he could finish his parting words, Hidan snapped his arms free of the leather straps that held him down, and he threw himself at the other man’s throat, toppling both of them to the ground. His eyes had fully reconstructed themselves, and away from under the surgery lighting, he could slowly take in his surroundings in dimmer light.

“This place is a fucking shithole.” The floor was dirty, the walls and even the ceiling were covered in dark stains, an oakwood desk near the wall was held together with layers of yellow-ed glue, next to it a beat-up office chair with scotch-tape adorned seating. His eyes wandered to the man he kept pinned below him, covered in Hidans spilled out lower intestine. “You’re not too bad though, damn.”

His hands were wrapped around the throat of a well-build man, probably a couple years older than him, with rich, sepia brown skin, black hair tied in a knot. He wore a surgical mask, but it couldn’t fully cover the ends of what was clearly a not yet fully healed Glasgow-smile. But what was most striking about Kakuzu were his eyes; His sclera was a dull red, and his Iris were a bright emerald green. “Why would anyone want my eyes when you’ve got the grand prize resting in your skull?”

Under Hidans firm grip, he could feel the strength Kakuzu had to use just to speak up. “What the fuck are you?”

“I’m my gods most favorite little bastard! Now, how about a little trade, ‘kuzu?” He shifted his weight off of the other man’s windpipe, just enough to let him breathe under a strain.

“What do you want?”

“My guts, ideally back where they belong. And in return- “He grabbed Kakazu’s hand, which until now had been busy digging his fingernails into the immortal’s arm, and guided it to Hidans restored eyes. “-I’m sure your client would go bonkers over two sets of eyes.”

There was a pointed silence between the two, Hidan grinning as his internal organs tried to work against the pull of gravity, tissue already trying to reconnect itself with a painful burning sensation. For a moment he thought that the incision would close over his exposed organs before he’d get a response.

“Get on the table. I’m not going to waste anymore anaesthetics on you though, or else I won’t turn enough of a profit.”

Hidan climbed back on the operation table, arms rested behind his head, legs crossed leisurely. “Money greed is a sin, y’know?”

“That’s fine by me, I’ll buy myself a VIP seat when I get there.” Kakuzu readied a medical sewing kit, and unceremoniously crammed Hidans intestines back into his abdominal cave, to which he squirmed in response, but snickered as well.

“It’s not too late to repent! Jashin takes every poor soul that knocks on his door with the correct offerings, and I have a feeling you’ve got what it takes. And I’m living, breathing proof of his miracles. Or else how will you explain all of…this?” He waved his hand around in the general direction of his eyes and his open wound, and Kakuzu swatted his hand away.

“I don’t know, I don’t care. Maybe you’re the result of a radioactive freakshow. Maybe I’m finally succumbing to asbestos poisoning. Now hold still or I will have to tie you back down again.”

“Kinky! Say, after you’re done stealing my eyes again, wanna grab some drinks?”

“Drinks is how you got into this situation in the first place.”

“I’m not regretting it~”

This earned him an eye roll, though more importantly, he realized Kakuzu didn’t say ‘No’ to his proposition. The surgeon finished the final stitches and gave his work a satisfied nod. He placed a glass jar, filled with some strange liquid, on a smaller table next to the operation table, and leaned in closer to Hidans head. “Now for the money-makers.”

“Wait-wait-wait, how are you gonna take ‘em out? You’re not just gonna snatch them out with your fingers, right?” Hidan fidgeted, though his manic grin didn’t falter. His chest was rising and falling heavily with rapid breathing, pulling at the fresh stitches.

“You really are an idiot. The eyes are too delicate and firm to be taken out like that. I’ll be using a tool that looks like a spoon, but has the sharpness of a scalpel, to basically scoop them out. Getting scared?”

“Are you kidding? I’m really getting excited now…”

Kakuzu huffed and placed one hand on the right side of Hidans face, using his thumb to pull the skin under his eye down. “No squirming, or I’ll take your teeth as collateral.”

“Don’t entice me, ‘kuzu.”

The sharp, cold tool slid smoothly between eyelids and eyeball, and without much resistance it curved into the eye socket and severed the optical nerves. In just a second, Hidans vision on his right side went black, and his heart beat violently against his chest. The pain was overpowering, searing, and exciting.

The surgeon dropped the disconnected eyeball into the formaldehyde jar, and switched hands to get a better grip on the left side of Hidans face. “Halfway done. Need a break?”

“Stop being a fucking tease…” Hidan breathed out, face flushed with excitement, fingernails helplessly scratching at the side of the solid table.

And without any further warning, the tool slid behind the second eyeball, severed nerves, and discarded it into the jar.

Back to nauseating darkness. All of Hidans other senses felt enhanced, he could smell the preserving chemical mixed with his fresh blood, he could hear the buzzing of the lamp above him, he licked his lips and tasted only his sweat, and most of all, he could feel the lingering warmth of Kakuzus hand still on his face, his thumb brushing over Hidans cheekbone.

“You’re a walking organ bank.” The younger man didn’t reply, too busy with catching his breath. “I could save money on anaesthetics and trying to lure idiots to operate on. I’d have any organ anyone could want – on demand.”

“I’m not gonna let you cut me open every day for free, yknow?”

And suddenly Hidan could feel hot breath ghosting over his ear, so close that cold shivers ran down his spine.

“Maybe I do have some free time for a couple drinks, and a little business talk.”

[whathappenedtomyweekend]

It’s Just A Spark Ch. 13 - Waiting Game

It was still dark outside when Hiccup woke up. Groggily, he reached for his phone and squinted at the too-bright display. 4:06 am.

He exhaled and scrubbed a hand over his face. When did his shift start again? Foggy memories of phone calls and Gobber's voice trickled through the mist in his head.

He screwed his eyes shut, distracted by the weight on his ribs and legs, and the strange numbness of his right arm.

Why-

The fog immediately cleared as Hiccup glanced to his side.

There was Astrid. On his arm. Her leg sprawled across his.

Hiccup bit back a quiet gasp and closed his eyes, his entire body seemingly on fire.

Oh. Oh.

The storm. Right. He'd said he'd sleep on the couch.

'Well,' he thought, his eyes drifting back to her again. 'That worked well.'

Her blonde hair fell into her face, only disturbed by her calm and even breaths, her ribs moving steadily against him.

He closed his eyes again, a quiet happiness spreading from his chest, and ghosted a kiss on her forehead, smiling softly when he felt her eyes flutter against his chin.

The morning could wait. For now, she was in his arms, asleep, and it was a simple, brilliant thing.

He awoke from the sunlight dripping through his blinds onto his face. Hiccup groaned, his right arm coming up to shield his eyes.

The numbness was gone.

Confused, he opened his eyes and blinked, adjusting to the light. His gaze fell to the right.

Not many days ago, he had thought Astrid in her running clothes was the best thing he'd ever seen.

'I stand corrected.'

There she was, drenched in sunlight that fell in little stripes over her face, her head propped on her arm. She was smiling at him. Her braid almost undone.

This was it. This was the best thing he'd ever seen first thing in the morning.

"Good-" he stopped, voice rough and husky, to clear his throat. "Good morning."

Her smile widened - good grief, his skin was on fire - and she shifted slightly. "Good morning."

To Hiccup's relief, her cheeks were tinted, too. They both exchanged a look, Astrid's eyes shortly flitting up to Hiccup's mess of hair.

Laughter bubbled up between them, and a moment later they were both laughing breathlessly, the tension falling as Hiccup slumped back into the cushions.

"This is so weird," Astrid remarked but grinned, laying back. "But good weird."

"Yeah?" He turned to her, grinning, drunk on his luck.

Astrid's smile widened as she nodded, inching closer to him again. "Yeah."

Without another word, Hiccup raised his arm and let her hide in his emrace, his hand smoothing over her hair, almost absentmindedly. He closed his eyes, resting his chin on her head, feeling almost dizzy.

"Astrid?"

She hummed, lightly nuzzling her nose into him.

"I'm breathing so much easier when I'm with you." He paused, realising how cheesy he'd sounded and cracked a grin. "That being said - you still up for that morning run?"

Astrid pulled back, her hands on his chest pushing herself up as she looked at him as if she wasn't quite sure whether to laugh or ask if he needed medical help.

"Oh my God. You're kidding," she deadpanned after a while and let out a short laugh of relief, pushing him away lightly when he grinned at her. "I thought you were serious. My quads were already screaming."

Hiccup laughed and she let him pull her back against him. "Well, I was serious about 50% of what I just said."

She grinned up at him.

"So what, are we leaving right now or …?"

Hiccup had never really put much thought nor effort into his (albeit stable) morning routine. Not that he didn't care, it just didn't help. He had to be practiced; there was no time for anything out of the ordinary. Get up. Feed Toothless. A quick shower, quick breakfast, quick glass of water. Everything had to go quick. Usually.

Today, on the other hand, he was at ease, with no hurry in his footsteps on the way downstairs. There was a deep sense of belonging in his chest when he closed the cupboard and threw a look back at Astrid, who was sitting at the kitchen table, drenched in sunlight, her legs curled against the wood.

She scrunched her nose at him. "What?"

Hiccup paused, his heart singing in his chest, and smiled. "Nothing. I just thought, I'd uh, I'd like more mornings to be like this."

Her smile widened and his heart sang louder.

"Me too. That'd be nice."

He turned back to the stove and couldn't help but think it had sounded like a promise. It was a funny thing, to think that only last month he'd been convinced his future would never go past putting out her fires.

Had anybody told him that in only a couple of week's time she'd be in his kitchen wearing his clothes, he'd have tied them to one of the fishing boats in fear they had lost their mind, all while laughing manically. But here she was, and here he was, forgetting he needed eggs for scrambled eggs.

He paused when he realised Astrid had come up behind him, patting his arm.

"If you tell me where you keep the pans, I can heat up the butter."

"Oh - god, no," he spluttered before he could think, already nudging her back towards the kitchen table. "You're sitting yourself back down, Miss I Set My Stove On Fire Three Times A Week."

Astrid crossed her arms but sat down. "But I want to help!"

He patted her shoulder. "And I want to spoil my girlfriend."

A slow grin blossomed on her lips and she leaned back, uncrossing her arms.

"Alright. That I can let slide, once or twice."

Hiccup chuckled and pressed a quick kiss on the crown of her head before he returned to the stove.

"Can I at least pour us some orange juice, or are you worried that'll catch on fire too?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but there was humour dancing in her eyes when she opened the fridge and threw him a look.

"Honestly? I would not be surprised."

She scrunched her nose at him, not even bothering to hide her smile anymore and placed the juice box on the table, leaning against it. Her eyes went back to Hiccup, wandering over his shoulderblades, his freckled arms. He was humming, tapping from one foot to the other and set the eggs aside, opened the fridge and pulled out various containers. Throwing her a quick grin, he placed them on the table and returned to the stove.

"By the way, I don't have hair scissors. Kitchen scissors are as good as it gets," Hiccup confessed, shovelling eggs onto her plate, soon realising he had fried and scrambled way too many, but chose to lay low about it.

Astrid looked at him and grinned smugly.

"Oh no," she said, sarcasm dripping off her lips. "That means we'll have to meet another day at my place."

He snorted, pouring her another glass of juice. "Tough call. Was sorta hoping to get out of that one."

"Yeah, I know, real bummer."

Their gazes met; Hiccup gave up and cracked.

"So, next week?"

"Yup."

"So, how's your CV coming along?"

Astrid shrugged and rested her head on her angled knees.

"Feels like I'm stuck," she admitted and hesitated. "I don't know how to sell myself. I mean - I know I'm good, I just don't know how to convince them."

Hiccup hummed. They sat shoulder to shoulder and Astrid found herself leaning into him, the close proximity both electrifying and calm. His voice was gentle when he spoke.

"How long have you been working on it?"

"Since I told you? Every day after work, basically."

"Try putting it down for a couple days. Take a step back, clear your head and come back to it with a new perspective. You'll be able to think of something when you're not forcing yourself."

She sighed. He was probably right, but it was hard to put down. "Maybe. It's just," she hesitated, raising her head to look at him."This is what I've always wanted to do, and I didn't have the chance to do it for so long, and now I finally do, so I want it to be good. Perfect. They'll have to take me."

She could feel herself slip. If the resumé wasn't good enough, they wouldn't take her. Astrid hated that thought and she wanted it gone. The solution was simple: she'd only have to write the best resumè known to mankind and they wouldn't even have another choice than to hire her. Basically foolproof.

Hiccup's voice was slowly trickling in through the war cries inside her head.

"Astrid, a resumé isn't going to make them hire you. That's on you. And you know you're good. You're better than good, okay, you got through months of shifts at the Smith's being harassed by creepy drunk men without punching them in the face, and that's a thing I'd write on that CV."

Astrid blinked. Hiccup's face came into focus again, his forest-green eyes fixed on her and she wondered where the battle cries had gone.

"There are many day-to-day challenges teachers have to face, but there is nothing that could distract or shake me from my firm belief that the most important job of a teacher should be listening to children and help them shape themselves, not be shapen. Opening sentence."

She drew a deep breath, a slow smile blossoming on her face, and let her hands fall into her lap.

Hiccup was grinning. "Top of your head?"

"Top of my head."

"See? Thank you for proving my point."

"Looks like the sky cleared up." Astrid commented and leaned out of the opened window, the now light summer breeze grazing her face.

"Yeah." Hiccup replied weakly, his eyes dancing over the crinkle of her eyes and the smattening of freckles and he couldn't help but think, 'Please don't say you should get going now'.

Astrid turned around, a hesitant smile on her lips. "I think I should get going now."

'Thanks, universe.'

"Oh - yeah, no, of course," he mumbled, raking a hand through his hair. "Stormfly's waiting, huh?"

She laughed. "She'll probably be cross with me for leaving her alone a whole day and a bit. She gets a bit fussy without her scratches."

He nodded and watched her turn back towards him, her brow furrowed.

"You reckon our clothes dried overnight?"

It seemed to Hiccup as if the concept of clothes drying again for the first time, at least that's what it felt like when he staggered away into the kitchen to the chairs where they'd hung them, his hand touching damp cloth.

"Nope, still damp," he let Astrid know, who had followed him. "But, uh, if you want, just - you can just keep this. On, I mean. And just return it whenever you like, it's fine."

God, her smile was better than Fishleg's waffles.

"That'd be great, thanks."

"No problem."

He shrugged, grinning lopsidedly, his heart skipping a beat when she shortly laid her hands on his chest to lightly nudge him towards the kitchen door.

"Well, thanks again for letting me stay. And the clothes. And dinner. And breakfast. You get it," she grinned and bounced herself off the kitchen chair, her clothes tucked under her arm.

Hiccup chuckled and followed her back into the hallway, where they stopped in front of the door.

"You're probably not gonna have the day off, aren't you?" Astrid smirked up at him, quickly tying her shoes.

"Yeah, no, I'm probably gonna report back at work tonight. Gobber giving me that whole day off was sort of illegal," he shrugged, grinning lopsidedly. Astrid chuckled, laid the clothes down, got up again and nudged his shoulder.

"Just be careful."

"You know me. Constantly vigilant."

She snorted, her eyes getting caught on the gap between his front teeth, and after a moment of hesitation she locked her arms around his neck, looking up at him.

"I know. Just try not to get fried? I'd like to actually keep my boyfriend for a bit longer."

Hiccup's smile widened, his hands sneaking around her waist, pulling her in.

"I'll try my best."

His voice barely made it over his lips, almost a whisper as his gaze dropped to her lips ever so shortly. When he looked up again, Astrid's eyes were fixed on his, her hands taking a hold of his collar.

"I really," she mumbled, his breath on her skin, one hand coming to rest over his heart, the rhythm just beneth her fingertips. "I really want to kiss you right now."

Hiccup stopped, pretty sure his heart had skipped a beat at her words. He waited for his brain to sound the alarms, contradict this as a Thing That's A Bad Idea, but all he could come up with was how on earth he could have been so dumb and wasted so much time not kissing her.

He leaned in, holding her gaze.

Astrid's own eyes now flitted down to his lips as he smiled slowly.

"I might have an asthma attack if you kiss me," he mumbled, their breaths mingling.

She shyed back. He grinned, his hand around her waist pulling her back in again.

"But I guess that's an occupational hazard."

Astrid's reply was swallowed by his lips.

There was no toothpaste and no hurry in their kiss, not even as they parted, but Astrid's eyes fluttered open and she was met with his gaze, and there was something else in it.

There was a short moment, their hearts beating up to their throats, the air tingling between them, her hands still clutching his collar.

And suddenly he was dipping down again, and she was pulling him in, and suddenly her back was hitting the wall and they were a mess of teeth and smiles, and her hands were burying themselves in his hair as his cradled her jaw.

All Hiccup heard was the sound of his own heart, beating up to his throat and against her when she leaned into him, swallowing his short breaths, her hands coming down around his neck, pulling him in, and there was not a single part of him that wanted to stop and pull away.

This was by far not his first kiss, but he couldn't help but think that all first kisses should feel like this. Everything right now made sense. His head wasn't scrambling for the next thing, for anything else, something better - this was it, this was the moment - several moments - and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Astrid's hands had found his face, and her touch was gentle when they parted, her fingers almost cold on his skin. They looked at each other, their faces only inches apart, and Astrid couldn't help but think how alike and yet completely different this was from all the times they had stood like this before. But here they were, and Hiccup was looking at her like she was the best thing since sliced bread, and maybe also like he was going to cry, so she gave the joy in her chest more room and kissed him once more.

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Time Loop (2)

Summary: Bucky gets trapped in a time loop where you, the girl he has been pining for, die every day.

Warnings: Blood, injuries, language

Word Count: 1609

~*~

Saturday, Again

Bucky shot out of bed, his heart racing. When did he get back? Was it a dream? Is (Y/N) okay? Please let her be okay. He shot out of bed and ran out to the hallway.

He could tell feet were bringing him to the kitchen. As he drew closer he could hear chatter and laughter spilling into the hallway. Did that mean she was okay? Bucky entered the kitchen and quickly took in the hustle and bustle of the room. (Y/N) was at the stove, alive, much to his relief. 

 “Hey, Buckaroo!” Sam yelled from the table. “Finally woke up, huh?”

“Real clever, Sam,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you say that yesterday?”

Scott Lang walked from the stove to the table, balancing a large pile of pancakes on a plate. They were having pancakes again? Or was that just in his dream? 

“Wait—” he began but was cut off by Clint choking on his food.

“Slow down there, buddy,” Natasha chuckled, patting his back. Bucky narrowed his eyes. 

“Hiya, Bucky,” (Y/N) greeted from the stove. She was alive, scooping pancake batter just like yesterday… or his dream. “Come help me.”

Just like in his dream, Bucky moved over to her side. 

“Let me guess, strawberries?”

Her eyes widened. Then she smiled and nodded.  

“Can you cut up a box of them? Then I’ll let you eat.”

“Sure.”

Bucky grabbed the strawberries and a knife. He stood on the other side of the counter from where Steve was sitting. Where he stood in his dream. Or was it yesterday? Everyone was in the same place. 

“What happened yesterday?” Bucky asked, keeping his eyes on his task. 

“You okay, Buck?” Steve looked at his friend, concerned. 

“Yeah, yeah. So what—”

He was cut off by Peter spilling his orange juice onto Scott. Again. Scott jumped back. Again. 

“What were you saying, Buck?” Steve turned back to him.

Bucky tensed. The timer, he thought. Then the timer went off behind him. He turned to watch (Y/N) burn her wrist on the pan. Again. 

What was going on? 

“Are you okay?” Bucky turned to (Y/N).

Yeah. I swear I hurt myself any time I cook. 

“Yeah,” she laughed lightly as she ran her wrist under cold water. “I swear I hurt myself anytime I cook.”

“I’ll be right back.” Bucky backed away. This was too weird.

“Where are you going?” (Y/N) shouted after him. “Don’t you want pancakes?”

“Just going to the bathroom.”

Bucky reached said bathroom and stared at his reflection. Did he have a vision? Is (Y/N) actually going to die today? He could save her. Yeah. He was going to save her. Before he left the bathroom, he splashed his face with water. 

“That plate of pancakes are for you,” (Y/N) said when Bucky entered the now empty kitchen. “I can’t believe I have to go on a mission today,” she groaned when he sat next to her.

“Yeah. It sounds simple though.”

“It sounds like something unnecessarily complicated for something not that important.” (Y/N) stood up and placed her empty plate in the dishwasher. “Remember that it’s wheels up at noon thirty.”

“Yeah. Noon thirty,” Bucky echoed.

~*~

This time, Bucky arrived at the hanger earlier and managed to avoid Tony’s taunting. The flight was silent like last time, but Bucky’s nerves were much more on edge. He watched (Y/N) mouth the words to her music. Blissfully unaware that she had died at their destination. That she will die?

No. Bucky would be able to save her this time.

They crept towards the hanger. Once they were in, Bucky decided not to share the location of the safe. He thought that would raise too many questions of how he already knew its location. Instead, he volunteered to scope out the ground floor with (Y/N).

Together they silently made their way to the south-west corner. They both had their guns drawn as they peeked behind doors and corners. Everything was silent. Bucky could hear (Y/N)’s soft breathing and slightly elevated heart rate. He had to agree with her nervousness. The suspense was hanging in the quiet air.

Then they reached the corner. Right there. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from a certain spot on the ground. It’s where she bled out in his arms. (Y/N)’s voice, in the comms and in person, jolted him out of his daze.

“We found the safe,” she said and leaned closer to the safe in order to break into it. “In the south-west corner.”

“On our way,” Natasha’s voice responded.

“Step aside,” (Y/N) said to Bucky.

He complied and stepped to the side, closer to her. She opened the safe and a gunshot rang out. Bucky heard the bullet hit the far wall. (Y/N) was about to investigate the safe when he quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. The second bullet flew out and he breathed a sigh of release.

“Oh, shit,’ (Y/N) chuckled nervously. “That would’ve ended badly.” She looked up at the supersoldier.

“You have no idea.” Bucky looked down at the girl in his arms and finally registered how close he had actually pulled her. It was silent for a moment, but not awkwardly so.

“That paranoid bastard.” She smiled. “Do you think he has any more shots lined up?”

“Nah, I think we’re good.” She still hasn’t pulled away.

“We heard gunshots,” Tony’s voice rang out, ruining the moment. Bucky and (Y/N) pulled apart and turned to see the billionaire and assassin. “But it looks like everyone’s doing great.”

“Just a boobie trapped safe,” (Y/N) explained.

“Let’s grab it and go.” Tony went to grab the items in the safe. 

Bucky saw Nat’s eyes flick back and forth between him and (Y/N) before raising an eyebrow at the latter. The team made it back outside, their guards slightly lowered now that they had the goods. Bucky kept glancing at (Y/N). The woman who was, who could have, died today. She was safe. And alive. So why was he still on edge?

They had parked the quinjet at the back of the warehouse which meant they had a short walk, but a walk nonetheless. Bucky wondered if he could have just asked Tony to blow a hole in the wall when they were inside the warehouse. He looked around, not fully seeing the surrounding land when they entered the building.

The warehouse sat on a hill, overlooking a small town. Trees surrounded the building, hiding it slightly. Movement in the trees caused Bucky to narrow his eyes and tighten his grip on his gun. Was it a person or an animal?

“Watch the trees,” Bucky warned his team quietly. He gravitated towards (Y/N). He had just saved her life, she couldn’t die again. Everyone picked up their pace.

Shouts broke the silence as armored men burst from the trees. Bullets were flying from the soldiers’ guns. Bucky, (Y/N), and Natasha were shooting back and Bucky could hear Tony’s repulsors behind him. Even with the small team’s many skills, they couldn’t keep up with the copious amounts of men pouring from the trees and they were quickly overwhelmed.

One soldier threw a device to the ground. It had a red blinking light that was speeding up. Bucky punched the soldier in the face with his metal arm which suddenly went limp at the same time the device released a pulse. Tony’s Iron Man suit, which was in the air, fell to the ground and ejected the man inside.

“Fucking EMPs,” the billionaire groaned as he sat up.

Soldiers surrounded the small team. Some held the group in the middle of the circle, two holding Bucky. They parted as a man with platinum hair and a sneer walked up to the team.

“The Avengers,” he said in a whiney voice. “I’m so honored that they sent the Avengers. Let’s look at the round-up.” Beady eyes surveyed the four of them. “You’ll hold a high ransom.” The man looked at Tony who opened his mouth to snark. He never got the words out because the soldiers all directed their guns at him. “Don’t interrupt me,” the man warned. He looked at Bucky next. “I know of a certain organization that would pay a very pretty penny to have you.”

“Don’t even think of it,” (Y/N) said, struggling against the man holding her.

“No interrupting,” the man said slowly.

He pulled out his own gun and pointed it at (Y/N)’s head. Bucky visibly tensed, ready to move her out of the way or put himself in front of her.

“Ah!” The man obviously saw the supersoldier’s reaction. “Leverage.”

He lowered the gun and shook out his arm. Bucky didn’t relax. He saw Nat struggling against the man holding her as well, but he had forced her to her knees.

“I’m sure you’d do anything to protect little miss mouthy over here. Even go through time to save her.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at the man’s words. “I can give her over to Hydra along with you… just to keep you calm. But she did interrupt me, even after I warned you.” 

In the blink of an eye, the man raised the gun again and fired without a second thought. (Y/N) went limp and the man restraining her let her fall to the ground, a bullet wound in her forehead. The platinum-haired man started cackling manically.

~*~

Bucky woke up with a small crick in his neck and crazed laughter echoing in his mind.

[5lazarus]

Anders in Autumn, Ch.7

inspired by @cozy-autumn-prompts! Chapter Seven, First Frost: After Varric’s party at the Hanged Man, Anders wakes up hungover and freezing in Fenris’ home. They talk around what’s actually bothering. He sobers up. Read the rest of it here.

Anders woke up shivering and feeling hungover. Someone had thrown his shawl over him and taken off his boots, and tucked a pillow under his head. Alas, the fireplace was unlit, and dusty besides. He winced and pulled himself into a sitting position. Hopefully he hadn’t embarrassed himself too badly the night before. Alcohol and embrium hit him harder since Justice had found a space. He thought, there was to be a spell to magic hangovers away. He felt the echo of smugness from Justice that meant that there was, and that Justice had no intention of teaching him. Mealy-mouthed and parched, Anders left the room and began to wander Danarius’s mansion. At least Fenris had finally disposed of the corpses. He found the elf stirring a pot of oats over the fireplace of the main hall. Fenris growled, “Mage.” Anders winced. He hadn’t thought the wisp was going to indulge all three of them, he had not intentionally invoked it, and he had gotten perhaps too comfortable with spirits since Justice tended to scare the demons away. Anders decided to play it safe. “Thanks for not killing me in my sleep, Mage-Killer,” he said. Fenris grunted. “I’m sure you considered it.” Fenris grunted again. Anders shivered again, and rubbed his hands. If Fenris were less unreasonable--that is not fair, Justice twinged at him, look at the lyrium-brands--if Fenris were less uncomfortable with casual magic, he’d spit a little fire into his hands to warm them up. He said, “Mind if I take a seat?” Before Fenris could tell him no, Anders grabbed a stool and sat next to him at the fireplace. He huddled in his shawl and inhaled deeply: nothing quite like gruel in the morning, after a good party. Was it a good party? He had a moment of grace, so that was good. Fenris stirred the pot, then added a dollop of honey, and then kept pouring. Anders watched with growing amusement as he emptied an entire jar into the pot, and then cinnamon. “Get that for me,” Fenris said, indicating with his chin. Anders turned around and found another jar sitting on the floor: sliced walnuts. He handed it to him. “If you want to be useful, you could slice a few apples. There’s a sack downstairs.” “Oh no, I much prefer being ornamental,” Anders responded. Fenris snorted, but kept stirring. Anders wandered down the grand staircase. He really was living like shit, squatting in his own home. He may have finally removed the corpses, but the mansion still stunk of death, and there were scorch marks everywhere from the party he had thrown in the beginning of the month. The Veil was particularly thin in the cellar. A thin scream stretched across the stone floor. Justice thought, I came too late. Anders blinked and he was holding a knife in one hand, an apple in the other. It was a good apple, solid, smooth, red. He hoped it would be good enough for the gruel. He headed upstairs and announced, “Your cellar’s haunted, you know.” Fenris said, “I live in a mansion formerly owned by a blood mage. Yes. I know.” Anders sliced the apples and added them to the pot. He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He’d had tenser breakfasts in the Circle, after one of the apprentices disappeared or an enchanter attacked. This felt a little too similar. He drew closer to the fire. The first frost was settling in, and Fenris’ mansion was freezing. When the apples softened, Fenris ladelled the gruel into two bowls, offering him one. They ate in silence, sitting on stools before a magnificent fireplace in a magnificent hall, that Fenris had turned into a kitchen. Anders kept trying to catch Fenris’ eye, but he wouldn’t look at him. “So,” he said into the chill. “You cleaned up the corpses.” Fenris grunted. He tried again, “The gruel’s good. Thanks for taking me home last night, embrium oil’s hit me harder since Justice moved in.” Fenris paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. He put it back in the bowl and set it aside. “‘Moved in.’ Like a bad roommate, who occasionally urges you to murder people.” “Well, it’s not like he pays rent, but he does give good advice sometimes,” Anders said. “It’s not all doom and gloom. Justice is very healing, you know. Transformative. Catharsis is not an inherently violent process.” He smirked. He was particularly proud of that line. The other Liberati in the Circle  would parrot it back at the aequitarians, when they would accuse them all of being fear-mongering extremists. It is not violence if it’s self-defense: but tell your oppressor that. Anders sniffed. Fenris said, “You’re possessed by a demon who pays rent by giving you occasionally good advice. You’re worse than Merrill.” “Hey!” Anders was indignant. “Spirit, not demon. I’m not a blood mage. Merrill deals with demons. Justice is as unbroken as he can be, living in the waking world for so long. It’s hard but we’re trying.” Fenris pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated. “Both of you say there’s a difference in the work you do but I see no evidence to the contrary. That demon Merrill’s been dealing with has her running manic around Kirkwall. You, you’ve been getting more reckless too. Letting the trade unionists host meetings in your clinic--what are you going to do when Varric finds out? Because he will find out. I told him I’d keep an eye on you, but how could you be so reckless?” “Wow, I didn’t know you cared so much,” Anders snapped back. “I’m not turning patients away. I can take care of Varric. I know how to be discreet.” Fenris lifted a single eyebrow. “You look like a molting bird in that shawl. You occasionally have long conversations with yourself. Your eyes glow.” “Your body glows!” Anders cast the bowl aside. “You’re squatting in a mansion in Hightown and regularly let Isabela start bonfires! You are the last person to call me--unsubtle.” Fenris let a short gust of wind out through his nostrils, like an annoyed horse. “I don’t mean--I do not want Varric to catch wind of the dockworkers’ strike. He has people watching you, for your own protection, but he will not risk losing face with the Carta by allowing the Merchants’ Guild to negotiate with them. And the Lavellan are known troublemakers. They don’t have her wanted poster up in Kirkwall, not yet at least, but I know the Carta--” “They’re planning a strike,” Anders said blankly. “You don’t mean they’ve already organized a union. They’ve already organized? I thought yesterday was the first meeting!” Fenris looked abashed. “I should not have said that,” he said stiffly. “It is better you know as little as possible. This isn’t your fight, mage.” “It isn’t yours either, elf,” Anders said. “Half the men working the docks are shem. And Ferelden, too. So don’t give me that excuse. Mages don’t make shit but still have to work and sell for the Templars and the Chantry. The Tranquil do most of the enchanting topside and they’re just kept as mindless--” “Slaves,” Fenris said. “Yes. I’ve thought of the comparison.” Anders flushed. He never felt comfortable talking about Fenris’ past. Not only was it not his business, but the elf was so prickly, and he always felt he was blundering into saying exactly the wrong thing. The Circle was a kind of slavery: mages were not paid for their labor, but at least they were not chattel. They were not possessions, though of course they could always be possessed. “Fine. But I strongly advise you do not let them have any conversation about anything pertaining to the strike in your clinic. You need to steer clear of this. Varric’s sympathy only runs so far. I’ve told him I’d keep an eye on you, that I suspected Justice was gaining a stronger hold on you. So he no longer needs to send guards. But the less you know, the better.” Anders looked at him, hard. Who did he think he was? He ran the fucking Mage Underground--but of course he was not going to tell him that. Aveline was good at looking the other way on her rounds. Donnic was good about vacuously gossipping about templar drama, overheard in the Viscount’s Keep. But Fenris had no sympathy for any mage accused of blood magic, and little interest in hearing what may have driven them there. “Fine. But why do you know? How are you involved?” Fenris shrugged. “Elves talk. I don’t spend my entire time skulking up here, you know.” A smile played at the edges of Fenris’ lips. Anders had the sudden, irrational desire to trace the edges of his mouth: down, boy, he told himself. He kills mages. He’ll kill you if he thinks you’ll lose control. And these days, with so much injustice, how easy it would be, to let it wreck, to let the spirit take the streets and give them a show Kirkwall would never forget. In the cold Anders left and shivered in the first frost of the year, drawing the feathered shawl Mahariel had given him around his shoulders, and wished for the warmth of the hearth. He kept his head down as he walked through Hightown, eyes darting at shadows as the wind rustled the few manicured trees the aristocracy let grow in the public square. Lowtown was bustling as always, and as he passed by the entrance of the Alienage on his way down to Darktown, he noticed that Dalish woman at the gate, speaking to Merrill. When they noticed him they turned away, and he kept walking into the wind, into the gray autumn morning, wishing he had said something better, said something right, because the joy of last night seemed an entire age away. When he got to the clinic there was already a line: three sick babies, a retired miner with a chronic cough, a weaver with arthritis, and too many people who just needed to eat. He did not have enough hot food to last them through the day. He had so little left to give, to get through the first frost, and Justice said: there is more that you can do. Find a better way.

[isitreallyok]

Therapy, Medication, And Mental Help

I’m gonna level with y’all here. This post will likely not be quite as articulate as some of the other ones. It’s been a really rough morning, but I wanted to address this issue while it is still fresh in my mind. I have yet to ask for advice or feedback on a single one of my posts, but if anyone has any I’m definitely not opposed to receiving it on this one.

Uh oh. That doesn’t sound great. What’s going on?

I’m going to attempt to keep this as brief as possible, and it likely will still be quite lengthy, but I’m going to have to give a bit of context here as well. My current life situation has been radically altered in the last year. 2020 has thrown so many wrenches in my plans and Covid isn’t even the biggest of them. However, lets take this from the top.

When I was 9 years old my parents divorced. Not a huge deal. It happens to a lot of kids as sad as that is to say. I grew up with my mother, brother, and sister in a single parent household with a skewed picture of who my father was and didn’t want too much to do with him. Fast forward a few years, my dad moves to Idaho and remarries and has a wonderful relationship with my stepmother. I wasn’t able to visit too often, but it wasn’t horrible when I was able to make it out there. As much as I minimize the normalcy of being a child of divorce though it still had a horribly impact on my emotional well being and my mental health as a child. Many other kids throughout school came were content with their home life. They were able to enjoy being children and did not have to worry about the pressures of caring for their siblings started at a young age. I, on the other hand, was not content with where I was at in life and wanted desperately to change it.

My mother was incredibly supportive of us kids as best as she was able. She made sure that we had routine trips to the doctors, that we had what we needed in terms of food and shelter, and even got us therapy and psychiatric help. I was blessed to have that available to me as a child. Many children going through similar situations do not have access to that level of external help for a myriad of different reasons. However even though I had these things I still ran into trouble. As I was growing up my father discredited mental healthcare as a practice so I always had that rattling around in the back of my head. By the time I was 15, I decided to stop taking my bipolar and depression medications because I didn’t feel like they were helping me. This is honestly the biggest mistake I’ve made in my entire life. I continued to see my therapist, until I not longer had insurance at age 18, but I didn’t feel as if I was making any real strides there either because I had also adopted the mindset that nothing was working and therapy and caring for my mental health was a joke.

Wait. Isn’t this a place where you talk explicitly about your mental health and how to manage and cope with various aspects of it?

Why yes. Yes it is. I’ve been handling my manic depressive bipolar disorder unmedicated for the last 13 years. It has been absolute hell most days. A few years ago I hit rock bottom and realized that I needed help. The girl that I had been dating for a few years, was living with, and planned on proposing to cheated on me and I ended up moving back in with my parents because of the situation, I slept on a futon mattress on the floor for months before we ended up moving, and due to this my mental state deteriorated to the point of suicidal ideation with intent.

This is when I realized that I was wrong in my views on medication and therapy. I had been putting myself in a position where I was running people out of my life due to the fact that I was using my friends as free therapy and they drew a line and I had to respect it. There was only one problem with finally accepting that I needed to get help. That problem is that help is expensive. I had been uninsured for mental health since I was 18. I accepted the fact that I needed to get help, but the fact that I could afford it drove me even deeper into despair about my circumstances.

So what did you do? Did you get the help you needed? Clearly you didn’t give into your suicidal tendencies.

Well. Yes and no. I didn’t get the help I needed, but I managed to find a way to distract myself from the troubles of the real world. I poured myself into my job and decided that that was the time to go to college. I do understand the irony or going to college after complaining that therapy was too expensive. Believe me that is not lost on me. The difference is you can’t get student loans for learning how to take care of yourself.

Rather than allowing myself to begin working through the existing trauma in my life, I decided to put myself in a position to where I could start to try to live a “normal” life again. Whatever the hell that means. I had a routine, albeit a poor one, I was socializing, albeit minimally in my classes and typically only for group projects, and I was too distracted by other pressures to reminisce on how much I hated my life. I started taking steps that I felt like a therapist would tell me to and began working towards chasing a dream again. This felt different, but I don’t think I’d venture as far as to say it felt good. It was just a different kind of stress that I was piling on myself. I still felt like I needed help handling the day to day. Learning to cope with my bipolar unmedicated took years and the singular trauma of living with my family again meant that all the coping mechanisms I had worked to develop became even more difficult to manage and I had to once again learn different strategies to handle all the new challenges.

Instead of schooling and attempting normalcy on your own wouldn’t it have been easier to get help?

Easier? No. More beneficial? Absolutely. The hoops that one has to jump through even to get seen by a therapist nowadays is challenging enough and that doesn’t even include financial ramifications for those without health insurance that covers mental health, which most workplace insurance plans don’t. With that in mind, the benefits of getting the help that you need often are not able to outweigh the cost.

Realistically, even if I had been able to afford to get myself the care that I need I likely wouldn’t have. I have always been the type of person to do everything on my own until I have exhausted all of my options. This is not something I recommend. One of the biggest things that I want to learn to do is ask for help when I need it instead of asking after I am already at the end of my rope. Even as I’m typing this I am beyond frustrated and want nothing to do with with the stress I’m under from today and it took me hitting that point to finally open up about talking about it even though it was among the first topics I decided to address when I first started this blog. Asking for help at appropriate times is a topic all on it’s own so we’ll save that conversation for another day.

So I’m starting to see a bit of where you’re coming from, but what happened today?

So this part of the background info I plan to address more in depth in the future and will keep the context of this very brief. Remember how I said that my dad and I had a strained relationship even after he moved? Well that changed once I was about 20. We reconnected and for years spoke nearly every day and he became a close confidant and more of what most people with a healthy relationship with their father have. We disagreed on a lot of things, but we were able to understand each other. A few years ago my stepmother passed away. Even before she passed my dad was diagnosed with early stage dementia. He had been having memory issues and it felt like he was a completely different person. At the start of this year he moved back in with my family and that has been a challenge having my divorced parents living under the same room without the ability to properly communicate with each other.

Fast forward to this morning. I woke up to both my mother and father bickering with each other about something related to Dad’s socks. Rather than handling it like adults they were both fighting like toddlers from what I could hear in my bedroom. This has become an increasingly common occurrence. One gets frustrated with the other, situation escalates, I feel pressured to step in and deescalate the situation, I typically end up frustrated and my mood is shot. Dad feels more comfortable talking and listening to me, Mom backs off because I get what needs to be done done, I wind up once again in the middle of a weird situation between my parents. I tolerate this because of the fact that I am able to assist in my father’s care in a way that is beneficial to his understand of what he needs and it eases the burden on other people that are trying to convey the same message with zero results. However over time this would wear anyone down and that point is where I finally reached this morning.

Rather than being able to calmly handle the situation with a level head I ended up snapping at all partied involved. I snapped at Dad for not wanting to do anything to mitigate the problems he complained of, I snapped at Mom for escalating the situation, I snapped at my sister who was just checking it see if I was okay, I ran the gambit of getting frustrated with people. Instead of handling the situation the way I normally would with patience and dignity, I mismanaged the situation and likely made it worse. 

This is where we get back to the topic at hand. I have finally managed to actually get myself on some half decent health insurance that has wonderful mental health coverage. This kicks in at the start of the year and I will be able to finally get some help with handling the fact that this entire situation has been traumatic and has left some serious scars. I’m excited but this also got me wondering about the part that I need help on.

My bipolar and resistance to most psychotropic medication had to come from somewhere, as it’s a disorder that is tied to genetics, and my mother is not bipolar. This tells me that my father, who exhibits clear symptoms of having bipolar depression, is where I got my proclivity for the development of this condition. That being said, with my father’s resistance towards getting psychiatric care, and being medicated to balance any chemical imbalances, puts me in a weird state for doing what is best for him and his care. Do I force this help on him? Do I accept that he’s not ready for it and sit idly by and continue to watch him deteriorate? With his dementia he’s less likely to be able to receive the care he desperately needs due to his inability to create a coherent thought in regards to what his needs are for the large scale rather than just being fine in that exact moment. So I truly am at a loss. This is the part where I ask for advice. If anyone who has read this far has any experience with dementia and psychiatric care I could really use some advice on how to best have these conversations with my dad. This has been one of the biggest hardships I have faced and I am getting to be at a proper loss for words in how to help the situation which as you can tell by the verbosity of this post is difficult to do.

You’re totally fine in not knowing how to handle this situation. This is a difficult situation to be in regardless of who you are. You’re doing well.

Thank you. All of that stuff is an absolute nightmare to handle and life has been absolute hell, but I hope that that helps you to understand where I’m coming from when I encourage you all to once again remember the three reminders! I know most days, including today, I need to remember them to so lets run through them together before we end things for today. You are so much stronger than you think, you are beautiful inside and out, and jinkies you are worth love, kindness, respect, admiration, and all those things you think you’re not worthy of. Lets turn today around together and kick some butt and take some names.

[askmeforafic]

In a storm in my best (Military) dress

It had been a hectic morning, everyone woke up from their night of celebration with hangovers and grief weighing on them with the realisation that the war was over but their work wasn’t done.  After a quick full staff meeting to ask all departments to take stock of who and what they still had and what was needed for freeing occupied planets it was then time to say goodbye to Rey.  

Poe had said goodbye to her with a deep hug and a whisper but upon seeing Finn readying himself to say goodbye he had walked to the general’s room. Finn walked up to her and pulled her in for a hug that had both of them crying by the end of it.

“It’s not forever, Finn. I’ll come back for you and Poe and we’ll finish this together like we said we would.” Rey choked out burying her head in Finns shoulder.

“I know” Finn whispered back “I know you need to do this and I know you’ll come back. I know because we’ve travelled half the galaxy to bring you home and we’ll do it again Rey. You’re stuck with us now, a Jedi, a Stormtrooper and a spice runner all trying to find their way home.”

He pulled back and brushed a kiss to her forehead before leaning down to brush a hand over the top of BB-8 and whispering something to the droid too low for Rey to hear. She heard the whistle of agreement before Finn stepped back smiling and she knew it was time for her to go on one last journey alone.

---------

Finn let his instincts guide him to where he knew Poe would be so they could finally talk about everything that had happened.  When he walked in the room he saw Poe sitting on the edge of Leia’s bed with his elbows on his knees and his hands scrubbing down his face. Without thinking he moved so that he was in front of Poe on his knees clasping Poe’s hands in his. Looking up at the man who had been with him throughout the war and always had his back he was speechless for a moment.

“Poe….I….I’m sorry” he stuttered out, quickly shaking his head at the confused look on the other mans face. “You’ve done nothing but believe in me and stand by me and these last few days I’ve been horrible to you. I thought I knew everything about you like you seem to know me but I don’t and I’ve realised that that’s okay! We have time now, time for me to learn where you found out how to steal those speeders and you’re time as an outlaw. I want to learn these things about you and for us both to learn new things about me together but to do that I need to say I’m sorry because I shouldn’t have acted like I did.”

Poe took a shuddering breath looking at the sincerity pouring out of the man in front of him,  Finn wanted to make sure that they were still friends and Poe would give him that.

“Finn, buddy, you have nothing to say sorry for. You shouldn’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to and what you did say was true. I’m not Leia, I don’t know how to be and I probably never will.”

Finns face fell, it crumpled in front of Poe and he didn’t know what to say to fix it or how it happened. Finn thought that Poe knew him but more and more it felt like he was just meeting him all over again.

Finn pulled away from him and started to pace in front of the bed, shaking his head while muttering “This is my fault Poe. I should’ve just said there and then what I was going to tell Rey but I knew it would come out wrong and then you wouldn’t let me explain. I wanted Rey to know but it didn’t matter how just that you both knew.”

“Finn, it’s okay that you didn’t want to tell me.” Poe stated while grabbing Finn by the elbow. “Your feelings are your feelings and you don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

Finn stopped pacing at the touch but instead let out a manic giggle as he fell to his knees in front of Poe again. “This is why I didn’t say it then, it’s coming out wrong. I told Rose this would happen but she told me it would be fine and that everything would work out. “  

He could see Poe physically tense up as if he were preparing for a hit, Poe opened his mouth but was quickly stopped by Finn placing a finger over it.

“What I needed to tell Rey was that I loved her” He started “AS A SISTER” he almost shouted when Poe’s eyes clenched shut.  “I needed her to know that we were drawn together for a reason, that she had family in me and that nothing would change that because I could feel her slipping away. But I also needed her to know that I was, that I am force sensitive.”

Poe’s eyes had snapped open when Finn shouted but they widened as he said that he was force sensitive and a small rock from the ground floated over to them and twisted in front of their faces.

“When I said I needed to go to Rey and that you weren’t Leia I didn’t mean that as an insult of your leading style. I was angry at Rey for running off alone, I was afraid because I could feel her slipping out of our reach and I was frustrated.  I took that out on you and that’s not okay but I never meant that you weren’t doing what you could just that you couldn’t feel the delicate balance we were hanging in.” Slowly as he said that the rock floated onto the cover beside Poe and Finn’s hand was now on the side of his face.

“I meant what I said about having time now Poe, we might still need to go and help the people who are still under control of the First Order but we have time. I know what Ren did to you and if you need time to accept me then that’s fine.” As he was speaking his head drew closer to Poe’s until their foreheads almost touched. “We have the rest of our lives and if you’ll let me I intend to find out all of your stories and make more with you” he whispered.

“The rest of our lives?” Poe whispered back shyly.

“The rest of our lives, you could tell me that you want to spend the rest of your life as a nerf herder or that you want to live on Jakku. As long as you want me with you then I’ll be there, I’m not sure when but somewhere during this war I fell in love with you. It might’ve been when you asked if I needed a pilot or when you hugged me that first time but it’s never stopped being there.  Just like I was drawn to Rey, I was drawn to you and even if you don’t feel the same way, if you want to marry Zorri and have ten kids I’ll always have your back.”

Poe felt tears well up in his eyes at Finn’s confession, he had been attracted to ex-trooper as soon as he had taken his helmet off to reveal one of the most beautiful men Poe had ever met.  It wasn’t until they hugged after finding each other again and Finn told him about his plan to save Rey that he felt himself falling. He closed the gap between their foreheads with a grip on the back of Finn’s neck he hadn’t realised he had.

"I don’t want to marry Zorri, ten kids is a lot but if that’s how many you want then I’m happy to have ten kids with you. We’ll figure out how to make sure they have your smile later because I want our kids to look like you. I don’t want to become a nerf herder or move to Jakku, why would anyone choose to live on Jakku?!” He exclaimed. “I love you Finn, the only thing I’m not certain of is that the rest of our lives are long enough. If I could have forever with you I would even if it meant following you into every battle, into every bit of quicksand or every storm.”

They fell into a kiss which made their toes curl, this was what they should have been doing since the start. They felt their happiness seep into their bones and stars flash behind their eyelids, when they started smiling too much to really kiss each other they were content to hold the other as close as they could.

Finn would later swear he heard a voice which sounded like both Leia and Rey say ‘Finally’ but for now he would hold Poe until it was time to follow him into battle again.

[bleasehelpme]

no kind words left, love, for you

TW: violent imagery, blood, serious injury, stitches 

Sequel to this: Her Gentle Sin 

“She’s been gone for days,” Ellie muttered quietly, staring down at her fidgeting hands as she finally spoke. 

Natasha didn’t respond, simply lifting an eyebrow in Ellie’s direction and not looking away from her nails which she had been filing. It had been 20 minutes since she sat across from Ellie who had been sitting still on the uncomfortable plastic mattress she had been assigned, distantly staring at the frame of the bed Natasha now occupied. 

“And?” Natasha finally said after a few moments when it became clear Ellie wasn’t going to elaborate. “What about it?” She tried to keep her tone open and receptive, but that’s clearly not what it sounded like to Ellie who flinched violently at the words. She awkwardly cleared her throat.  “I mean, it’s not unusual for something like this to happen,” Natasha attempted to clarify, still not looking at Ellie. It was one of the first things the older girl had learned about Ellie: She hated being stared at, even the slightest misconceived glance could cause her to tremble.

Ellie curled an arm around the post connecting her bed and the one above.

“Shouldn’t we do something? Tell someone?” 

Her nativity hit Natasha’s heart like a sharp pain and she couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into her tone. She let out a deep sigh, dropping the file and her hands as she turned to look at the ceiling as she rested her back against what could barely be considered the headboard of the metal bed.

“Who would we tell?” Natasha said flatley. “Ellie, people like us?” She gave a sidewards look towards Ellie. “Homeless people? We leave. We disappear. We go missing.” Natasha nonchalantly shrugged her shoulder, but even Ellie could see the tensions and the stiffness in her movement. “That’s just how it is.”

“Why?” Ellie whispered, her hands clutching the post. “Don’t people notice?”

“Whose gonna notice?” Natasha asked. “Their families? Their friends?” Natasa met Ellie’s gaze. “The police? We’re background noise.” What was it that officer had said when she tried to report Nyalah’s disappearance? “Drains on society better off gone.” She let out a cruel laugh and waved a vague hand towards Ellie who cringed at the sudden expression change on her face. The lines on Natasha's face grew deep and her lips drew into a harsh smile Ellie couldn't recognize.  “I mean look at you. You’ve been gone for almost two weeks, and nobody even noticed.”

Ellie’s throat seized and she blinked in confusion.“What?” She couldn’t have heard that right. Natasha once again laughed, sitting up and leaning over towards Ellie with a wide grin that showed off her canine teeth that Ellie had only seen on her mother. “Natasha-” She uncurled from the post, practically crawling back on the mattress as Natasha stood and stood in front of her. “What are you-”

“I bet nobody even remembers you exist.” Natasha jeered as she pressed down on Ellie’s chest, forcing her back as she crawled onto the bed, practically straddling Ellie. “Nobody even liked you.”

“N-Natasha, please stop,” She cried, raising her hands to try and push against the manic girl. “What are you-,” 

Natasha didn’t do anything to acknowledge Ellie’s fight or pleas. “I mean,” She took the younger girl’s hands in her own, wrapping around her wrists in an iron grasp. “I didn’t.” Natasha forced Ellie’s hands down, pinning them to the bed above the girl’s head. “Your parents didn’t.” She wrestled both of Ellie’s thin wrists under her left hand, reaching for something in her back pocket with the other. “I’m sorry!” She cried, having no idea what she was apologizing but she willing to do anything, to say anything to stop her. “Please!” Ellie thrashed underneath Natasha but the girl stayed and unmovable as she pulled a sharp, gleaming needle from her back pocket. 

Natasha -the girl that took her in, the girl that had taken care- raised the needle above her  “Keelie certainly didn’t.” A cackle roared from Natasha’s mouth and fear seized every nerve in her body as she raised the needle over her pinned wrists. “I mean, this exactly what Keelie did."

Ellie screamed as the needle pierced through her wrists like a blade. Her eyes were frozen shut and an awful, violent pain burned in her left arm. Her body thrummed with a suddenly found ache and she no longer felt Natasha looming over but was completely aware of the two hands pressing against her shoulders.

"Ellie!" A voice cried. It wasn't Natasha's but she still somehow recognized the voice in the back of her mind. She couldn't find any coherent or rational thought and continued to thrash blindly at the voice. She couldn’t move; something still kept a tight, cold grip around her right wrist. "Ellie, stop! You need to stop moving!" A figure came into her blurred vision as Ellie forced open her eyes; she hadn't even realized they had been closed. "Ellie, you're bleeding." The words stalled her and she finally recognized that it was Keelie pinning her to the wall. "Ellie please!" She recognized that the screaming pain in the arm was from that crazy fucking woman who fucking carved into her arm like a fucking brand. She slowed at that thought, no longer fighting against the girl and she could hear Keelie’s sigh of relief. Ellie didn’t make any more attempts to move as Keelie moved her attention back to the bloodied arm, pressing an extremely dirty and bloody towel to the… injury. 

"What are you doing?" Ellie whispered a moment later; her voice raw and grating on her dry throat as she made a pointed effort to not look at her wrist and the blood on the ground. Pain laid her mind like a thick fog and she wasn’t even sure if she had actually managed to grit out the words until Keelie responded. Keelie didn’t look at her but Ellie could see the tear tracks and the drying blood on her face. 

"I need to-" She coughed blood into her hands and Ellie wondered if it was her blood or Keelie's that coated her gaunt fingers. "I need to stitch it. I was hoping to do it before you woke up but…” Keelie glanced away, guilt and apology clear in her tone. “We’ll just have to do it now.” Ellie’s harsh exterior softened and she let out a pathetic noise of slight panic. “I know. I’m sorry but you’ve been bleeding a lot. I don’t think we can wait any longer.”

Her head throbbed and Ellie couldn’t find it in herself to give a response, not that Keelie waited for one. “Press down on this,” She directed quietly, pressing Ellie’s right hand, which still had the fcking cuff and chain around it, to the towel that was barely covering all of the cuts.  “Jesus, you’re cold,” Keelie muttered, moving from the girl to the needle and thread that had been tossed aside when Ellie woke up. 

She picked them up slowly as Ellie’s head lulled to the side, although she kept her eyes open. “Fuck,” Keelie wisped as the looked back at the objects. She still had no real idea what the fuck she was going o do with this. It certainly wasn’t enough thread to stitch all of the letterings but she couldn’t just not do anything. 

She turned away from Ellie so the girl wouldn’t see her trembling as she attempted to thread the needle. It was a full minute before the thread went through the eye and Keelie could turn back to Ellie, whose eyes were only half-open. 

“Okay,” Keelie forced her voice steady as she moved over to Ellie. She hadn’t done anything close to sewing since sixth grade home economics classroom. Fuck. “Okay.” Keelie took Ellie’s hand and gently put it on the ground before peeling back the towel to expose the letters L, E, and S. “Ellie, this is-”

Keelie’s breath hitched as the women looked up at Ellie, lifting the tip of the blade once again to its previous spot on Ellie’s wrist. “This is going to hurt.” 

“Um, it’s going to be okay,” She said instead, giving her the most reassuring smile she could muster. She pressed the tip of the needle to the skin and couldn’t stop a chill running down her spine as she realized the sick irony of this. “Here we go.” 

It took half an hour for all the stitches to be done and the bleeding had come to a halt. They were sloppy, crooked, almost too far apart and looking one wrong movement for tearing our but they had done the trick. Ellie hadn’t spoken or let out a single cry of pain from the movement on the fresh cuts but she couldn’t hide the tears rolling down her face. 

Neither of them spoke as Keelie folded of the towel, setting it to the corner of the room with the needle and empty spool atop it. She moved back over to Ellie and made a note that she was looking much more lucid and color had started to flush back into her cheeks. 

“Ellie, I’m so sorry,” Keselie said suddenly, sitting down from across the girl; her own body aching from the effort. “I’m just so sorry.” For minutes, Ellie didn’t respond and Keelie was overwhelmed with the need for her to say something, to do something. 

“We’re going to die here, aren’t we?” Ellie finally whispered, startling Keelie.

“What?” 

“We are going to die here.” She emphasized the words but kept her tone even and steady; there was no heat or anger or even sadness behind it. “Aren’t we?”

For a moment, Keelie just considered lying to Ellie. This was fucking hell and a little bit of hope could take her -them both- a long way but then she looked at Ellie, really looked at her for the first time. Any hope she had held had been just been cut away by that crazy bitch. Lying would do nothing but make them hurt worse. 

 “I don’t think we’ll have it that easy.”