#I’m telling myself it’s a nightmare/vision but… what if…? �� | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

When We Begin Again

Warnings:this fic will include dark content such as blood and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find the man of the dreams, but your life slowly distorts into a nightmare.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: And so we come to the end of Halloweek 2024. Thanks for those who read.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me❤️

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You hear the murmur from across the office but don’t look up. You're too enraptured by the cells of the spreadsheet, trying to figure out what won’t balance. There’s something missing. Something obvious and you just can’t see it.

Your eyes narrow, nearly turning inward to your nose, and your name yanks you out of your Excel-induced trance. You sit up sharply, nearly sending yourself and your rolling chair to the ground. You grasp the arm rests and snap the seat straight on the axle.

“My, my, looks like someone special’s thinking of you,” Louise plunks down the crystal vase of flowers on your desk, nearly demolishing your mouse at the same time. “Roses. Red? Three dozen, looks like.”

The office clears and you glance around slowly as the fog dissipates. You have an audience. You’re not used to being the center of attention. Not until recently.

You know who the flowers are from but it’s still a surprise. A pleasant one, yet a bit awkward. You take the card from the long plastic stem and read the message inside. It’s signed S. Rogers.

“So, you’ve got a new man?” Louise prompts, still hovering by your desk.

“Ooh, do tell,” Sella rolls over in her chair.

“Please, we’re just getting to know each other,” you put the card in your pocket.

“Just getting to know each other,” Sella guffaws as several other women turn to eavesdrop. “Seems like he wants to know a lot about you.”

“Really. We only had one date.”

“One date?” Louise exclaims. “Well, you must’ve put out if he’s sending roses.”

“Lou,” Sella warns.

Louise gives a naughty look, “pardon. I’ll file the HR report myself.” She cackles and a few others join in. You’re burning hot in embarrassment.

“It’s new. I don’t want to get my hopes up,” you stand and grab the vase. “These are too big and pretty for my desk. I’ll put them in the break room.”

“Is he handsome?” Louise goads.

“Oh, I hope he is,” Sella chirps. “To be young and fun again, ah.”

You carry the vase away, an odd clink against the glass with your steps. You keep your head down, overly aware of the eyes watching you. You enter the shared kitchen and put the flowers on one of the empty tables. Something dangles against the back of your hand.

You turn your palm to catch the small locket before it can slide free. You don’t know how you didn’t notice before. A rose is engraved into the gold and the chain is a length of delicate links. You can tell it’s genuine gold. Oh my.

You quickly wrap it up and slip it into your pocket with the card. You hurry back to your desk and sit. You try to focus on the spreadsheet but your vision is blurry with self-consciousness. A soft buzz draws you from your deconstruction.

You swipe up your phone. It’s Steve. You can’t leave him hanging. Not after all that.

You get up, keeping your cell up your sleeve as you march into the hall and to the restroom. You lock yourself in and answer.

“Hello?” Your voice is wispy.

“Hey, honey, did you get it?” Steve asks.

Honey? He’s too good to be true. One date and it’s like it’s been one year.

“The flowers, yeah.”

“What about the necklace?” He asks.

“Oh, yes, that too. Um, all the other ladies at the office love the roses.”

“But what about you?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty,” you assure him.

“Are you wearing the necklace?” He asks.

“I hadn’t had a chance--”

“Put it on,” he says abruptly then clears his throat. “I mean, you should wear it. Send me a picture.”

“Right, yeah. Totally. Sorry. I just started work and... oh Steve what a lovely surprise that was,” you chime. “I’m kinda in shock. It’s so sweet of you.”

“You’re easy to be sweet to,” he purrs. “Did you have a good night?”

“I did. Dinner was great.”

“And... after?”

Your cheeks are blazing. Your lips press together as you think of the kiss. So soft and tender.

“I liked it,” you babble.

He chuckles, “me too. So, we’ll have to set a date for the second.”

“Of course.” You agree as you cradle your hot cheek.

“I don’t want to keep you from your work, as much as I do want to,” he says. “Oh, don’t forget the necklace.”

“Yeah, I’ll put it on now,” you promise. “I should go.”

“Alright,” he says reluctantly. “See ya, honey.”

You hang up and put the phone on the edge of the sink. You fish the necklace out of your pocket and untangle the chain. You admire the little rose before you stretch it around your neck and clasp it into place. It hangs perfectly around your throat, right at the hollow of your collar bone.

You marvel at it, stroking the edges, and feel a tingle on your chest. It’s beautiful.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” A lilted voice drifts through your ears.

You flinch, startled. You look around the empty bathroom. You frown. Who was that?

You check your phone. It’s locked. Then you go to each stall and peer inside. No one.

It... must’ve been in your head. Yet it was so clear. Like someone was speaking right next to you. Even as if the voice were inside your mind. Well, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re imagining things.

You turn back to the mirror and raise your phone as you open up the camera. You should send that picture before you forget. You snap the shot and check it.

Oh. Doubt needles at you once more. Just like yesterday before your date. That disbelief you can’t shake. Steve is too good for you. You’re the mousy woman who can’t help but trip over her own toes and rambles about old BBC period pieces. He’s tall and blond and handsome.

Yet he likes you. He has to. He would give you such pretty things if he didn’t.

🥀

“One month already,” Steve sweeps in with a glass in each hand.

“Oh gosh, that’s not--”

“Champagne,” he declares.

“Really?” You squeal.

“Nothing’s too special for you, honey,” he nears and hands you a glass. You take it and keep it over the edge of the couch, afraid to spill even a drop on his pristine white cushions. “I just love to spoil you.”

“You do,” you agree. “It makes me feel a little... lacking. I wish I could give you more.”

“You’re more than enough,” he assures you as he sits down next to you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you echo and clink his glass.

You tip the glass to your lips and a weight shifts in the crystal. You hum in surprise and trickle a drop over the corner of your mouth. You dap it away as you examine the golden champagne. Tiny bubbles flow up from around the band sunk to the bottom. You gasp.

“Steve,” you nearly choke on the dregs. “What--”

He slides off the couch and sets his glass on the table. You shake your head. He’s not...

“Honey,” he takes your other hand as he kneels. You’re overly aware of the moisture left on your fingers. Of course, you’re that ungraceful. “I know it’s early but I don’t want to wait. I just feel... this is everything. I want you forever.”

“Huh?” The noise makes you cringe. You sound so dumb.

“Please, will you make me the luckiest man in the world--”

“You can’t...” you gulp.

“Marry me. Please.”

You stare at him. Stunned. Your hand shakes. You reach to put the glass down and fan yourself. It can’t be real. So soon?

“I’ll beg,” he squeezes your hand. “Honey, please.”

“Steve,” you eke again. “I... I’m just so... surprised.”

“I love you,” he says. “I love you so much, you’re all I think about.”

“I...” you look at the glass and the ring at the bottom. “Yes, Steve. Oh my god. Yes.”

He smiles triumphantly and grabs the champagne. He drains it and reveals the ring between his teeth. He takes it and dries it on his shirt. You lift your hand, trembling and let him slide it on.

“Oh, yes, a lovely ring, indeed. His mother’s, you know? Cushion cut and look at the trim...” You recoil and scratch your ears. It’s that voice again.

It can’t be Steve. His lips haven’t moved and it isn’t a male voice. It’s a woman. Her tone is rich and sultry and she has an accent. It doesn’t sound like anyone you know.

“Honey?” Steve blinks at you with concern.

“I... I’m sorry, I just... can I use the bathroom?”

“Uh, yeah,” he looks disappointed. “Sure.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to ruin the moment, I just have a tickle,” you pat his hand gently and let him go.

You stand and hurry away.

“He asked me on London Bridge. At midnight. Wonderful. Back home, lovely weather,” the woman speaks again, booming in your brain.

You swallow a yelp before you hide behind the bathroom door. You shake your head and cup your ears, but that only makes her louder.

“Then we went to Paris. Oh, it was splendid.” She sighs dreamily.

You look in the mirror. You appear maddened as your eyes are round and your mouth is twisted in dismay. You lean in as you notice the glint in your iris. There are flecks you’ve never seen there before. A subtle pigmentation. You blink. Is there something in your eyes?

It’s unmoving. That slender grey speck. You bat your lashes again. They’re longer too.

You grip the sink as you lean into the mirror.

“He always liked it when I wore red lipstick.” She preens in your ears and you whine. You push yourself back and look down at your hands. You step back and raise them to examine your fingers. They look more tapered than before. Not so stubby and thick.

You shake them out and take a breath. There’s something wrong. Something strange. With you.

Yet, what can you do about it now? You can’t run out on Steve after such a nice night. And a proposal. You’ll wait until the morning and you’ll call the doctor.

You shrink and lean against the wall. It’s just your luck. You meet the man of your dreams, get engaged, and now your mind is fraying. You’re terrified.

“Please,” you whisper, “be quiet.”

You wait. There’s no answer. You must sound as deranged as you feel. You’re talking to yourself. There’s no one else there.

“Honey,” Steve taps on the door gently, startling you, “everything okay?”

“Um, yeah,” you croak out. “Yes, I’m good.” You unlock the door and make yourself smile. “I was just admiring the ring.”

“Nice, huh?” He takes your hand. “It was my mother’s. If you need it fitted, we can go tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You wonder. “Mm, well, I have to see the doctor.”

“Oh,” his brows draw together, “maybe after then.”

🥀

“I can’t offer you answers today,” Dr. Lichten drones. “I can refer you to someone who can. It could be a temporary episode. Or something more... chronic. The best place to start is with someone who can determine which.”

You nod solemnly. His expression remained unmoved as you explained the voice in your head, almost as if he didn’t believe you. You didn’t bother to mention the changes you could see. You fear doing so might land you in a room with soft walls.

You take the referral form and leave. Your phone is buzzing. It’s Steve. You love how attentive he can be but at the same time, you feel suffocated. You just need space to figure out what’s going on.

“Quite simple, dear. You’re not me.” The voice taunts. You stop short in the hallway, nearly bowling over a nurse. You apologise and keep going.

You continue out of the clinic and idle in your car as you call the psychiatric office. You have an appointment set. You’ll be okay until then.

“He could never be happy with someone like you. Look at you, honey. You are a mess.”

“Shut up,” you growl as you shift into drive.

The voice is saying all the things you’ve said to yourself before but this time, it’s not the same murmuring doubt. It’s bold and brazen and cruel. And that accent.

Your eyes flick to the ring shining on your finger. You nearly forgot it that morning until Steve reminded you. It’s so beautiful.

“And you’re not,” the voice mocks.

You sigh and close your eyes. You’re not doing this. You’re not arguing with whatever this is.

You drive back to your own place. You’ll sleep and hope it goes away. You haven’t been doing much of that since Steve came around. He fills your evenings and the mornings comes too quick. Can you really keep up with him?

“You cannot,” she snickers and you smack your ear as you push through your apartment door. You groan and try to rub away the stinging pain.

You lay down but don’t get much sleep. Even as the voice recedes into silence, you’re unsettled as you wait for it to pipe up at any moment. When you surrender to your consciousness, you run a bath and ease into it.

You close your eyes once more and linger in the steaming water. As it cools, you open your eyes. You look down at yourself. Surely it must be the water distorting your body. Where did that freckle come from? Is your skin a different shade?

Strange things. You wish they’d stop.

Steve calls as you wrap yourself in your robe, as if he knows. You answer.

“Hey, whatcha up to?” He asks.

“Nothing. Just... chilling out.”

“You back at your place? I can swing by with lunch,” he offers.

“Oh, Steve...”

“I might already be here...” he chuckles.

That’s his way. He doesn’t leave room for no but it’s never a bad thing. You sigh.

“Alright, come on up.”

🥀

“We can do some evaluations for schizophrenia but you have no genetic markers for it. No family history. Dissociative Personality might be something too,” Dr. Percy explains, “even a degree of body dysmorphia. Unfortunately, your systems are inconsistent with anything in the DSM-5.”

You nod.

“So that means?”

“We have work to do,” she says. “But we can figure this out. Patience.”

“Patience,” you frown. You don’t know how much longer you can handle this.

“I’m patient,” the voice sneers and you wince.

Percy inclines her head curiously, “you hear it now?”

You give a quiet, “yes.”

“And?”

You squeeze your eyes shut as your head rattles, “she’s laughing!”

You wrap your arms around your head and fold over. Percy rushes over. She puts her hand on your shoulder. The voice goes silent. You whimper.

“What is it?” She asks.

“Nothing,” you utter. “It’s gone.”

She clicks her tongue. “You need sleep. I can prescribe sedatives. I want you to be careful, alright? You only need one at night. Just so you can rest.”

“Thank you,” you sniffle as you sit up. “I just want to be better.”

“I know. We will find stability,” she stands and takes her pad from her desk. “Come back on Friday.”

“Okay,” you rise grimly.

Outside the office, you sit in your car and cry. You feel yourself splintering apart. The seams are unraveling in your mind, the voice getting louder and louder as yours fades away.

“Look at us,” she trills. “Dear, please, have a look. You can be so foolish. Come, the mirror.”

You lift your head and grab onto the rear view. You tilt it down and grimace. Red lipstick. You don’t even own a stick, you didn’t put that on... huh?

“Just a bit of touch up in the ladies’,” she drawls. “Better, don’t you think?”

“Why-- what are you? Why are you doing this?”

“Those are my favourite pearls,” she ignores your desperate plea. You touch the earrings Steve gave you. “They made it through the Blitz, you know?”

“No, you’re not real. Not. Real!” You shriek and beat your temples, “get out. Get out! GET OUT!”

Your nails scratch your scalp and you recoil. Oh, heavens. Your nails. Oval, pedicured, pretty. No, those aren’t yours. You turn your arms over. Another freckle that doesn’t belong.

You lean back again and look in the mirror. Your eyes are a shade of blue you don’t recognise. Your face is longer too, cheekbones more defined. That’s not you. You’re hallucinating.

“You’re right, it isn’t you,” she chimes and laughs again.

You bend over the steering wheel and scream. You need it to stop! Stop! Stop!

🥀

You take another pill. The third one that day. She’s still there. You’re barely.

You should be happier than ever. You’re engaged. Your wedding is almost there. You’re miserable. You want it to end.

“Honey,” Steve calls through the door.

“I said leave me alone,” you snivel and pull the blanket over you. “Please, leave me alone.”

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there all day.”

“I just want to be left alone!” You snarl.

“You want to be left alone, dear, you can go,” the voice sneers. “Go on, then.”

“No,” you mutter.

“I’m not leaving so...” she insists.

“No, no, you won’t win!” You holler.

“Honey?” Steve turns the handle and you keep the blanket around you.

“Go.” You tell both of them.

“Please, don’t do this. I know there’s a lot going on but we can face it together.”

“No, Steve, we can’t... I... I’m not good enough for you. I’m... I’m... I’m going crazy,” you whine.

“Crazy? Honey, no. You’re fine. The doctor said--”

“I lied. She doesn’t know what’s wrong,” you groan. “So leave me alone. I deserve to be alone.”

“Dear, you can end this. You just have to go.” The voice chirps.

“No!” You snap at the lilting jeer. “No, I will not let you...”

Your head swirls as the drugs seep into your blood flow.

“Isn’t that nice, hm? The darkness?” She asks.

“Mmmm,” you grumble and go limp.

“Honey,” Steve rubs your arm through the blanket, “you tired?”

You garble. The pills smother you as the edges of your mind haze. Your body is heavy and warm. You cling to the relief. You just can’t be you for a little. You just want to sleep.

“That’s it, darling,” she goads, “close your eyes. Relax.”

You drift down into the depths, swirling slowly through ribbons of silk. They wrap around you and cover your face, drawing tight until they suffocate you. Until they silence you. You whimper as the fabric draws tight around your throat and you flail through the void.

You spin and open your eyes. A swath of light sears into your eyes. You see Steve, distant, far away. He leans in and cradles your face but you can’t feel his hand. His thumb strokes your cheek.

“Margaret?” He says breathily, “Peggy,” he brings his other hand up as your vision narrows, “I’ve been waiting.”

That voice hums as the light turns to a slit, “so have I,” she slithers and the darkness glazes over, dragging you down into the abyss.

You are bound in a shroud within yourself. You cannot speak, you cannot move. You have no mouth, no body to do so. You have nothing. You are nothing.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #au #horror au #halloween 2024

113 notes · View notes

nightxcreature · 17 days ago

Text

Sore Loser

Summary: Team Freewill has a game night

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

A/N: I have had the worst week. We had the flu and once we got over it, one of our best friends suddenly passed this weekend, and it just does not feel like Christmas for me At. All. We used to have game nights all the time with our friend and Uno was one of our favorites, so I wanted to put out something silly and fun, and this is the best I could do. Not edited, Written in roughly 10 minutes. I’m so sorry for being MIA, I’m truly trying to get back into a healthy mindset. Writing always makes me feel better but motivation has obviously gone out the window. What I wouldn’t give to be playing Uno in the bunker with these guys instead of living this nightmare.

Please do not steal my work, you don’t have permission and that’s real uncool. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are always appreciated though, My Dudes. 🤙🏼

————————————————————————————————————————

“Kiss. My. Ass.” I bite across the table as I lay down one of the last cards in my hand. My eyes narrow in his direction and I send a sly smirk as I flip him off and say, “Uno.”

His green eyes narrow on my hand and the single card between my fingers. He glances worried down at his own hand and nods before steeling his features to rake his gaze back up to mine and take a slow sip from the bottle in front of him.

Castiel places a red 3 on top of mine, nervously glancing between myself and our friend. I can tell he’s unsure about playing another round with us when Sam lays a blue 3 on top of his red and Dean lets out a loud “Son of Bitch!”.

I send a vicious smile across the table, prematurely celebrating my win when Dean peeks over at Jacks hand. They lock eyes for a moment, seeming to be speaking telepathically when Dean’s own grin suddenly matches mine. He slowly pulls a single card out of his hand laying it down and giving Jack a solemn look, “Draw Four, Buddy.” Jack shakes his head, a pitying glance sent my way when pulls a ‘Draw Four’ card from his own hand, “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles as he lays it on the discard pile.

“You can’t stack cards!” I yell, “Since when do we stack cards?!”

Sam shrugs, a grimace crossing his face, “You stacked cards last round.”

“Yeah, well that was last round. We didn’t talk about it this round and-.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Sweetheart.” Dean cuts me off, the smirk never leaving his lips as he nods toward the pile, “Draw Eight.”

I stare open-mouthed down at the cards on the table, red filling my vision. I barely hear Sam speaking when I yank the cards up from the table and sling them across the room. Dean’s loud cackle echoes through the library and Sam slips his hand over to pull my drink to his side of the table before I can throw it at the older Winchester.

“I think you misunderstood what to do,.” Castiel’s monotone breaks me from rage and I turn to face him, taking several deep breaths as I do, “Here, let me help.” He says quickly and suddenly the cards are back on the table exactly as they were and Cas is counting out eight cards to add to my hand, “Here.” He says, holding them out to me with the most innocent of expressions, “That should be right.”

I stare blank faced at the angel before deciding against squaring up with God’s literal shield. I jerk the cards from his grasp and slouch back down in my seat to glare at Dean, whose shit eating grin couldn’t grow any bigger, “Your move.” He calls across the table smugly.

The game goes on well into the night, ending tragically with my drink in Dean’s face, his chair across the room, the table flipped, and both of us banned from playing Uno in ‘Sam’s Library’ ever again.

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @lmhf1 @k-slla @whimsyfinny @aylacavebear @enigmalynne

@envysarchive @daisydark @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @manicjk

@suckitands33 @oceean @mxtansy @justwhisperingfantasies @mgchaser

@xinsonyax

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn fanfic #spnfandom #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #sam winchester #sam and dean #dean winchester x you #team free will #jack kline #castiel #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #supernatural writers community

75 notes · View notes

pit-and-the-pen · 9 months ago

Text

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 1

A/ N:I’m horrible at exposition so bare with me through this one. It feels a little clunky to me but this sets up a lot for the rest of the series. This is also the longest thing I’ve written outside of my senior thesis so… I have this series fully planned out and now that I’m back from vacation I should be able to work on it a lot more.

Anyways, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for it!

Warnings: Spring court slander (implied trauma), nightmares. Drinking. I think that’s all but feel free to let me know if I should add anything!

Wc- ~10k

Previous part: here

Next chapter: Here

We’re coming home.

I ran up to my brother. Desperately pulling on Rhys’ arm and I felt him stumble back into me. He remained frozen, eyes locked on the female in front of him. Her and Rhys were clearly in the middle of a very intense conversation. But I wanted to go home. When I shouted Rhys’ name, his head flickered to me before looking back at Feyre. I saw his body tense, eyes going wide and it was instinct that had me grabbing his arm and winnowing us to Velaris.

The smell instantly calms me in a way I haven't felt in fifty years. Once my vision had fully focused,

“She’s my mate”, nothing above a whisper. My head snapped over to him. Mate. That explained his reaction. I felt the guilt in my stomach at pulling him away from Feyre. My arms are already reaching to pull Rhys towards me into a hug. As my arms wrapped around him, he sobbed into my shoulder.

This wasn’t the Rhys I had come to know under the mountain. Sob after sob left his mouth and his precious wings dropped to the ground. I knew this was more than the reaction of a male who had his mate taken from him. This was my brother who had to watch his mate be in love with someone else after years of suffering. The cauldron had finally granted him a mate only to have her ripped away from him.

“I’m sorry” was all I could think to say. So many reasons for being sorry. Sorry for all he went through. Sorry for not being strong enough to stop it. Sorry that the female the mother had chosen for him was in love with the High Lord of Spring, and had willingly died for him. Sorry that I stole away what little time he had spent with her.

Rhys let out another sob against my shoulder and it shook me to my core. I have heard him cry over Amarantha many times but seeing him break over Feyre was enough for me to want to march to spring and drag her to Velaris. But she wouldn’t want that. I know Rhys would have my head on a spike if I even offered.

We both turned around at the sound of the door opening. Mor stood in silence, eyes scanning over us. Noticing our embrace. She stepped up to us and a soft smile crossed her face.

“Tell me about your mate, Rhys.”

That was all it took for the flood gates to open. We did more than recall the details about the last few months. Rhys and I cherry picking only the most vital and important details. We kept a few things close to our chests. Those would stay our nightmares alone, Mor didn’t need to be haunted with our ghosts as well.

Mor sat patiently before she finally interrupted. “She’s really dead?” Rhy freezed at the mention of Amarantha. I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and answered for him. “Yes. But I don’t think this is over.” Mor just nodded sharply, looking at I both before she launched herself at both of I, arms coming up to wrap around my brother and myself.

“If either of you ever do something that stupid again, I’ll kill you myself.” Her voice didn’t hold any malice, instead it shook with tears. My heart jumped as I left the weight of her emotions wash over me. The pain in my chest tightened as I realized how much our absence has truly shaken our family. I knew, of course, but seeing it was entirely different.

The three of us began to settle and I finally had time to get my bearings in the house. As I let the glow of the house wrap around I. A familiar scent caught my attention, and my whole body sang. My head whipped around, looking for the source of that pine and night air, looking for Azriel. Cas too of course but Azriel was on the front of my mind.

Mor’s smile tilted slightly. “They should be back soon.” She sighed “They just went to the camps to check on all of them” She paused, stumbling over words “ when we got that message from you, someone thought the most important thing was letting the camp leaders know that they had a high lord to answer to again.” This didn’t surprise me at all. Of course they would want, need, to fill in the Illyrian warriors that were now back under Rhys command with his return, Cassian having to take over that helm by nature of his position. It would be a fight, but one for a different day.

I wanted nothing more than to see the rest of my family and responsibilities be damned. I wanted to see them now. It had already been almost 50 years and in theory another day wouldn’t hurt but the house felt empty without the loudness of Cassian’s voice booming. It felt cold without Azriel’s shadows stirring around.

As if Mor could sense my unease, she lightly grabbed my wrist and started pulling me deeper into the house. “I have so many books I need to show you.” That was all it took for me to laugh. Mind reeling as I tried to remember the last time I had truly laughed.

The library was just as I had remembered it. The smell of old parchment and leather filled the space. Fires kept the room warm and light and I wanted that feeling to sink down into my bones.

Mor gave me the space to just absorb my favorite room in the house. Rhys had given me full reign over how it was decorated. Comfy chairs that could accommodate wings and backless chairs tufted with fabric that looked like they were made of stardust were spread over the large room. The heavy wooden desk I had put in was covered in stacks of books.

“I put all the ones I knew you would like over there.” Mor spoke up when she saw my eyes lock on the countless books. I felt my throat tighten up with tears at the thought she must have put behind the seemingly small action. It wasn’t uncommon for Mor and I to swap books as we finished them. Mostly so we could sit and talk about them for hours together. Mor and I spent many nights on the couches I had put in, falling asleep with our respective books still clutched in our hands.

Looking at the stacks, a rough count told me there had to be over a hundred books, easily.

“Looks like I have some serious reading to do.” I laughed. She beamed a smile at me.

“Those are just the ones I knew you would like,” She walked over to one of the bookcases in front of the desk. “These are all the others that I need you to read so I can scream about them.”

Three whole shelves in total. It would take me gods know how long to get through them. I voiced that much. Mor waved me off.

“You have all the time in the world to read them. It doesn’t have to happen all at once, but I’m not letting anything happen to you again. You’ll have time to read them all.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. I turned to look at her and I saw the pink speckling her cheeks and right above her lips, the tell-tale signs that she was trying not to cry. I placed the book I had just picked up and threw my arms around her, squeezing her as tight as I possibly could. She nuzzled her head against my shoulder and all I could do was try to hold her tighter.

By the time we pulled away from the hug, we were both a crying, giggling mess. I forgot how much I loved spending time with Mor. Regardless of how much I cared for my brothers, Mor and I were two sides of the same coin. Plus the boys wouldn’t sit and discuss the pure filth that tended to grace the pages of the books I devoured.

“So, what one should I start with?”

She all but squealed as she started flipping through the piles with me. We organized as we went. Placing them in piles of order that I should read them in. A few of the series I had been following had new installments that would most likely require a reread so those got placed on the back burner for the, now older, favorites she was dying to talk about. From there we were able to pick out one of her more recent favorites that had me itching to crack open immediately. She picked out one from her own pile across the room and the both of us settled into silence, the only sound was the fireplace cracking and pages turning.

I don’t know how late it was when Rhys softly opened the door to sneak into the room. My eyes were starting to get dry from how little I was blinking, desperate to get through one more chapter before I called it a night. Something I had voiced to Mor about ten chapters ago. Mor who now was asleep on her own couch, her hair pooling over the edge almost touching the floor from the uncomfortable angel her head had fallen into.

“The books will still be here after you’ve gotten some sleep,” Rhys said in a gentle mocking tone. Mor stirred slightly at his voice but remained sleeping. “Come on, I’d be an awful High Lord, and an even worse brother, if I let you fall asleep in the library on your first night home.” I nodded at his words. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less where I slept but for some reason, I could tell it mattered to Rhys. It would honestly be more normal for me to fall asleep anywhere but my room. Whether it be in the library or the large sectional in the living room or the comfy chairs on the rooftop, I rarely ever slept in my own bed. Rhys had ensured that every surface of the house was as comfortable as possible to account for this but I didn’t push or argue with him as I untucked my legs from underneath me and stood up. I debated leaving Mor to sleep but didn’t want her to wake up all alone. Reaching out a hand, I placed it on her shoulder and gave her a small shake. She groaned but opened her eyes anyway.

“We’re being banished to our rooms.” I joked and pointed over the Rhys. She let out an even louder groan.

“Overprotective bat.” Even Rhys laughed at her words.

“Come on, before he carries us himself.” I held out a hand and I could see Mor contemplating just rolling back over and going back to sleep but she grabbed my hand. Pulling slightly, I helped her to her feet and she rolled her neck slowly. No doubt trying to work out whatever kink was starting to develop due to half of her head hanging off the thin couch. The three of us walked down the hallway to our rooms. Sleepily stumbling to doors. We reached Mor’s first and before she slipped in, she gave me another tiny hug and another to Rhys.

“I love you guys,” Sleep was evident in the way she almost drunkenly stumbled over her words. I returned the sentiment and she was slipping into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

Rhys and I stood outside her bedroom for a little longer, until we saw the light from under the door flicker out. Eventually, we continued walking until we got to my door. There was a slight pause as I turned the handle. Rhys and I would normally be curled up in my bed under the mountain by now. I vaguely thought about asking him to stay the night. Not that I think either of us were truly going to be able to sleep. As tired as I felt, I was afraid that if I closed my eyes for too long I was going to wake up and this was all going to be a cruel dream.

Rhys seemed to pick up on my hesitancy. “I can walk in with you. If you’re…”:

“Please.” I interrupted him. He gave me a soft smile and gestured for me to open the door.

Nothing was out of place. The room smelt like my favorite perfume and when I looked around, there was no dust to be found. Someone had spent the time still cleaning the room while I was gone. I don’t know why that touched me as much as it did but as I looked around I felt all the unshed tears finally starting to take its toll. A sob ripped its way from my chest and Rhys’ arms were around me in an instant.

He shushed me softly, rocking me slightly. “We made it. We’re free. We’re back home.” He repeated over and over until I had cried myself out. I pulled out of his embrace and wiped away the stray tears. Shaking my head at my outburst I muttered a thank you to my brother.

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be just across the hall if you need anything,” He says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nodded and he gave me a sad smile as he walked out of the room.

I wandered over to my dresser, fished around until I pulled out the first pair of pajamas I came across. I hastily pulled my clothes off and as I went to pull the nightgown over my head, I realized the layer of grim that was clinging to my skin. A bath was definitely needed before I climbed into my warm bed.

The tub was already full and scalding hot by the time I had finished pouring in an obscene amount of oils and bath salts. Sinking in, I sighed out in relief as the heat enveloped me. Muscles in my neck and back released as I leaned my head against the edge of the tub. I picked up the sponge on the edge and started to wash myself off. After countless minutes of scrubbing, despite my raw skin I still didn’t feel clean. Huffing, I threw the sponge across the bathroom and pulled my knees up to my chest. I just sat curled up around myself until the water started to cool down. And it was still another handful of minutes before I could manage to pull myself upright and step out of the bath. I shivered at the temperature difference. Hugging my towel closer to my body, I quickly ran bacon into my room and threw the nightgown over my head. I burrowed underneath my comforter and tried to close my eyes.

I tossed and turned until I started pleading with the mother, the cauldron, anyone that would listen to let me go to sleep. I was bone tired but everytime I closed my eyes something made me snap them open a few moments later. Every creek of the house had my ears prickling. Has the house always been this loud? I wondered how I never noticed it before. How I ever slept with all the noise. It was then I remembered that, if my room truly haven't been messed with since I had left, that I still had a sleeping tonic from when I had cracked a few ribs. Fae healing or not, ribs always were a pain to heal. Majda had given me a tonic to make me sleep so I could actually heal without Cassian making me laugh them out of place. I flung myself out of bed and padded over to my vanity. The small bottle of purple liquid still sat , half drank/ Uncorking it, I prayed that sleeping potions didn’t go bad and took a tentative sip. Fighting back a gag at the foul taste, I put the cork back on the top and walked back to my bed. The medicine had its desired effect. Not a minute later I felt my eyelids flutter close and this time they stayed closed until I could sense the sun high in the air signaling the next day had come.

Knocking on my door made me finally crawl out of bed. Goraning at having to leave the warmth, I flung open the door and was staring a slightly startled Rhys in the face. He held a small tray in front of him, stacked high with various foods.

“I didn’t want to wake you up. You slept through breakfast and lunch and I didn’t know what you would want so I brought a little of everything.” He spoke the words so fast that in my half awake state I struggled to keep up with them. I gestured for him to come in so he could place the tray on my bed.

“Have you eaten?” I raised an eyebrow at him as I picked up a large strawberry.. His look told me that he had, in fact, not eaten. I pointed to my bed. “Sit and eat.” I barked, mouth full of strawberries. He laughed at some silent joke and picked up a piece of toast covered in some fruit jam. We were quiet as we ate, picking apart the platter he had brought in. Truly too much for one person to eat. Once we were both full, I wiped off my hands on my comforter and finished swallowing my last bite before I asked Rhys. “What do you have on the agenda for today?” He stilled and picked at a piece of lint on his sweater.

“Not a lot. I’m trying to organize a meeting with the High Lords of the other courts to just debrief after everything.” He shrugged like that wasn’t going to be the hardest meeting to organize. “There are some young high lords and with all the aftermath of this…We just need to all talk this out.” I nodded along with him. The courts would need some time to bounce back after this but from the way things had seemed under the mountain, we didn’t have that time. As much as I prayed to be wrong about this, war was on the horizon and we would need to have the courts functioning as much as possible if we were going to stand a chance against Hyberns forces. Amarantha was just a taste of the power that he had, an experiment of sorts.

Mor knocked on the open door before she walked in and plopped down next to Rhys. She took note of our stern faces but didn’t say anything. Instead, she swiped one of the sandwiches off of the tray and shoved half of it in her mouth in one bite. “You, me, library.” Was all she said before she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

“Well I know what you’re doing for the rest of the day.” Rhys laughed as I started to scramble to get dressed. I was about to start changing when I noticed he hadn't moved from his perch on my bed. “Get out!” I scratched at him and all but pushed him out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. His laugh echoed off the empty halls outside my door.

In record time, I was running down the halls to the library. Mor was already sitting, her book curled against her chest. She didn’t look up from her book as she pointed to the one I had abandoned last night. “Butt in chair, book in hand.” She said and I laughed at her tone. I walked over to my couch and picked up the book, the spine slightly cracked from laying face down most of the day.

I must have finally gotten to the juicy part of the book because I felt Mor Peering over the edge of her own book. My poker face was completely gone as I sunk in every word. “No. Absolutely not!” I screamed, rereading the last few pages to make sure I was seeing it correctly.

“Did you finally get to..” I held up my hand to shush her. She laughed and threw one of the throw pillows at my head. I only put my book down long enough to catch the pillow, using it to now prop up my arms. Once I had confirmed I had not actually gone crazy, Mor and I started discussing the plot twist that had been the source of my outburst. She accidentally let a detail slip that had me scrambling back for the book, desperate to catch up to the point she had been talking about. This went on for hours until I saw her perk up. She turned to face me.

“They’re back.” Was all Mor said, still flipping through the book perched on her knees. I didn’t say anything else before I put my own book to the side and all but ran from the room. Her laugh bouncing off the walls behind me.

I could smell him before I saw him. That deep cedar and cold rain smell that I could wrap myself in. Rhys tried to say something to him but stopped when he realized he no longer held his audience's full attention. Azriel’s shadows ripping across the room and curling around my feet like a small cat. I could have purred at the feeling, tears started to peek along the corners of my eyes at the familiar feeling.

When I felt movement next to me, I felt momentary disappointment at the fact that Azriel was not standing in front of me. Strong arms wrapped around my middle and started to swing me in a circle, I felt joy so strong it almost hurt. Cassian sat me back down on my feet and when he went to speak, I wrapped my arms around him in return. We stood embracing each other, slowly rocking from foot to foot.

“Missed you, Princess.” He muttered into my head. I just nodded, my cheek too squished against his chest to say anything. “I think Mor was going to kill us if she had to be the only girl living in the house. Amren can only handle so much damage control and the coward spent most nights at her apartment.” He nudged my shoulder as he spoke, pulling a laugh from me. It felt good to laugh again. My cheeks hurt in the perfect way at the smile that stretched over my face.

A throat being cleared from across the room pulled my attention from Cassian. I could have melted into a puddle right then and there. Azriel stood in front of me, a true smile gracing his face. I squealed and rushed over into his arms. He didn’t swing me around like Cassian did, but he held me just as tight. It would have felt so right to crash my lips against his and he released me from his arms, but that wasn’t my relationship with Azriel. Those thoughts were nothing more than what I needed to make it through the events of the last fifty years. Azriel looked at me like I was a sister, nothing more. Rhys’ little sister on top of that. His high lord's little sister. He was the one who had coined my nickname centuries ago. When the trio first formed their own little band of brothers. I had gotten pulled in by proximity, Azriel said it one day and it had stuck ever since. “Hi Princess.” He said, tone polite but I could hear the joy behind them. I tried not to blush as I heard his voice. Shaking the things I had imagined that voice saying to me out of my head out, I mustered up a pathetic, “Hi, Az.”

It had never felt this awkward around him. Cursing myself mentally for thinking of all the things I would say to him when I finally saw him again. None of those words made their way out of me as the two of us stared at each other. “I’m glad you’re home.” Was all he said his words short but I felt the sincerity leaking from them. Biting down the flutter in my heart, I gave a short nod and wrapped my arms around myself. His eyes tracked the movement but didn’t say anything.

Cass clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, breaking the tension that I felt take over the room. “We’ll see you at training tomorrow,” I raised an eyebrow to him. “Don’t give me that look, I’m guessing you didn’t have time to… while you were gone. I can’t have my sister not able to defend herself. We would be the laughing stock of Pyrthian.” He smiled as I made a big show of rolling my eyes .

So I joined them for training the next morning. And the next. Cassian slowly ran through the basics until I was nothing more than a mile of sore bones and sweat by the end of our sessions. I would shower and hang out with Mor. Rhys was suddenly very busy as he tried to catch up on all the events he missed in his court over the last fifty years. He made more and more trips to Hewn City, leaving Mor free to run around with me. Before I knew it a month had passed and all of us were sitting around the table for one of our family dinners.

Jokes were flung around the table and no one noticed the way Rhys and I sat back, sinking it all in. More than once I caught his eyes from across the table and all we could do was smile at each other. Is it bad to say that I missed this? I spoke into his head as Mor and Cassian had started raising their voices at each other, getting into a slight argument over some random events of the day. I did too. Even when we both flinched at the volume Cassian’s voice had risen too. Even Azriel had started to chime in before Mor shot him down with a withering look. I laughed despite myself at his expression. I shut up when that look was turned to me.

The conversation fell into a natural lull and everyone was happily eating. Rhys hissed at something, shaking his arm that bore the bargain mark. Something must have prickled down the weird connection.

“I still can’t believe you let her go with Tamlin.” Cassian said, stabbing something on his plate with a little more force than necessary. Rhys bared his teeth at his brother.

“I didn't have much of a choice, now did I?” He slumped back into his chair, still rubbing his hand. “She already hated me because of this stupid bargain but if I had stolen away from the male she was willing to die for…”

“But Rhys. It’s Tamlin. No one would have slighted you, not after…” Cassian’s gaze flickered to me. As hard as I was trying to tune out the conversation, I still felt my chest tighten at their words. Rhys would have never taken Feyre without her permission, well at least outside of the bargain but we both knew that was simply a means to an end. Regardless of how much it must hurt to have another person he cared about over in spring, Rhys wouldn’t take that choice away from her, no matter how concerned he might be for her safety.

“How was it seeing the brute again?” Amren asked and the table silenced. I froze and kept my gaze locked down at my plate. Suddenly losing my appetite completely.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I itched at my wrist, tugging at the fabric that felt too tight around my wrist. Azriel placed a comforting hand over mine. I flashed him a thankful smile.

“You haven’t wanted to talk about it for over a century.” She prodded.

“And she shouldn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” She took a breath like she was about to press the issue. “Why does it matter to you anyways?” Azriel hissed at her. Amren had the decency to take a hint and held up her hands in surrender, a smirk plastered on her face.

We all sat in silence for the rest of dinner. Even Cassian knew better than to make any comments due to the tension in the air. Everytime he would go to say something, Rhys would shoot daggers at him. Eventually I got sick of it and threw my napkin down.

“Fine. You want to know what it felt like?” I shouted at Amren. Everyone flinched. “I am terrified for that girl. Because I know what loving Tamlin does to someone. Seeing him felt just like you whenever someone mentions the prison.” She paled at my words and I didn’t spare her another look as I pushed away from the table, storming out. I know I would regret my words later but sometimes Amren needed a taste of her own medicine. She just loved to push everyone buttons because we were all too scared to really piss her off.

I flung myself into my bed, still fully dressed. I groaned into my pillow. Apologies could wait until tomorrow. A knock from the door had me fighting back swears. Stomping over to the door, I ripped it open and a very startled Rhys was standing in the hallway, hand raised like he was about to knock again.

“I wanted to check on you.” The high lord said.

“I’m fine” I gritted out and he raised an eyebrow at me. I let out a heavy sigh.

“I know I shouldn’t have taken the bait but I don’t want to talk about him, right now or ever, if I can avoid it.” Rhys’ eyes held sympathy and he just contuined standing in the hallway, letting me rant. “I mean it’s been so long. I didn’t want to talk about it then. No one’s asking how you feel about Tamlin.” I paused and Rhys just shrugged.

“If she’s happy with him, then it’s not my place to try to save her. If she wants to come here, then I’ll happily let her do that too.”

I stared at him like he had gone crazy. “What about the bargain?” He shrugged again

“It was necessary at the time. I don’t actually plan on cashing in on it. She’d only hate me. More.” I could feel his despair. The self loathing held behind those words.

“Rhys.” He shook his head.

“I’ll never take away her choice in this. Just because she’s my mate doesn’t mean I have a claim to her. Regardless of every nerve in my body screaming otherwise. It’s her life. She’s given more than enough to deserve whatever, whoever, makes her happy.” I went to hug him and he stepped out of my reach. “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t need your sympathy for making the right decision.” He tried to play it off as a joke but I knew he truly meant it.

“Well if you ever want to talk about it…”

“Like how you want to talk about Tamlin.” He cut me off. My mouth set into a thin line and I took that as a dismissal of the conversation. Fine. I just wanted to crawl into bed anyway.

“Well now that we’ve established that. Anything else you want to say, oh mighty High Lord.”

“No.”

“Good. Good night.” I said and swiftly shut the door in his face. I love my brother but he really knows how to get under my skin sometimes. I know deep down I’m mad because he called me out. I can’t expect him to pour his heart out to me when I won’t do the same thing.

I threw the covered back and crawled in, still fully dressed. Mind reeling. I wouldn’t even know where to start with talking to anyone about Tamlin. And what good would it do? All of that was in the past and talking about it would only piss everyone off all over again. We had just barely avoided attacking the spring court when I came home. I don’t want to drag Feyre into this now that she’s there.

I managed to finally fall asleep, tossing and turning. Dreams filled with deep swirling greens and the sound of growls.

When I woke up in the morning I could tell it was later than normal. The sun is slightly higher in the air. Snapping out of my sleepy haze I cursed as I jumped out of bed. I was late for training and Cassian wasn’t going to let me forget that.

Throwing on my clothes, mentally screaming at all the buckles on my training leathers. I knew not eating was going to come back to bite me in the ass but I simply didn’t have time as I sprinted through the house. In my haste, I passed a grinning Rhys. The events from last night seemingly forgiven as he taunted me.

“Maybe he’ll consider this your warm up today.” I held up a crude gesture and he only laughed harder.

I made it to the training rink in record time. My hands were on my knees as I panted. The stitch in my side was already screaming at me but I forced myself to stand up straight as Cassian sauntered over to me. The split in his lip told me Him and Azriel had gotten started without me.

“You’re late, princess.” I flinched at his tone. He surveyed me. “I think double drills should be enough to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I cursed, I couldn’t get through the routine once without limping back to the house. Two would kill me and he knew it.

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” He held out his hand “Consider this it.” He stepped away from me, going back over to Azriel. I know Cassian wasn’t actually mad at me. He also knew that if he went easy on me, I wouldn’t take training seriously. I appreciated the routine of it all and I really did need it. So sighing I got started.

I was halfway through my second set when Cas called me over.

“Lesson learned?” He simply asked. I nodded. Still trying to take in breath. My muscles are screaming at me for still being vertical.

“Good because Cas and I decided it’s finally time to step this up a notch. You’re almost the same as you were before. Now it’s time to get your powers involved. Relearn how to fight with those.” Azriel spoke. My stomach sank. This was something I hadn't considered. It was a stupid oversight on my part and I didn’t know how to get myself out of this so I responded with the truth.

“I don’t have my powers.”

“Okay, nice joke” Cassian cut in.

“I’m not joking. I can’t use them anymore.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I can’t use my powers” I grumble. “They’re still in there but it’s like I’m fighting against a wall.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at that revelation.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know but all I know is I tried to use them… you know… And they wouldn’t come. Everyone had theirs back so I know it wasn’t the curse. So for whatever reason I couldn’t make them work.” It was embarrassing to admit. My powers had been the only truly useful thing I could rely on in the training ring.

“Have you tried since then?” I nodded. Not so much of a glimmer of them since I came home. I told Cassian that much and he swore under his breath.

“We could always take you to see Helion.” I shook my head at his words.

“I don’t want to burden him with more problems. He has enough to do in his own court. I’ll figure it out, but for now I’ll just have to fight the old fashioned way.”

Neither of the males in front of me seemed to be happy with my response but Cassian jumped right back in.

“Fine. But that means that you have a lot more training to do. If you had your powers you would be fine. But in just plain hand to hand combat, you’d get your ass kicked by anyone with any skill.”

I glared at him but I knew he was telling the truth. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him into the center of the ring and tossed him one of the training swords. Heavy but they wouldn’t do nearly as much damage when he hit me.

“Do your worst then.” Was all I said before he charged at me.

“You’re sloppy.” Cassian barked as he knocked the sword out of hand again, again. I held my wrist as it twisted at a weird angel. My cheeks heated with anger and I went to wipe the sweat that had formed on my brow with my other, only to find it just as damp. I recoiled in disgust and Cassian laughed again.

“You try getting your shit kicked in for fifty years and see how you bounce back.” I spoke and I saw his face pale. Shit. “Joking Cas, it’s okay.”

I shook my head. “I am sloppy. And that’s why I’m still training with your annoying ass. You’ll have me back in tip top shape.” He relaxed slightly, but his shoulders still wouldn’t lower.

I sighed and did the only thing I could think of as he turned away from me. I jumped onto his back, being mindful of his wings and pulled him down to the ground. The air left his lungs in a whoosh as I took us both onto our sides, I quickly bounded to my feet, ignoring the sting in my side from the impact.

“Come on you big Illyrian baby.” I raised my arms slightly in front of me and a flicker of something crossed Cassian's face and I saw him make the decision to play along. To pretend that this was just a normal day of training. He leapt to his feet with a surprising amount of grace.

“If you want a fight, you got it princess” He said with a smirk. We both stood in the middle of the training ring, circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Swords forgotten off to the side. I saw the slight twitch of his left side and I made the choice to ignore the fake out, and went to block my right side. It was the right choice, the blow aimed toward my right side bounded off my forearm, it still stung but at least it didn’t put me on my ass like it would have had it made contact. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm back, pulling him closer towards me and pushing on his back. He only stumbled for a second before he regained his footing. That kick had put me off balance more than I anticipated and it was easy for Cassian to grab the leg that lowered too slowly, grabbing my ankle and yanking me to my stomach. I yelped at the contact. He laughed loudly as I held my hand up in surrender. I rolled over onto my back with a groan.

“Give me a few days back in training and I’ll have you on your ass, General.” He laughed even harder.

“In case you forgot, princess, you could barely do that even on your best days. Give yourself more time.”

“A week.” I responded with my own laugh. Whatever I had done, it worked. Cassian’s shoulders had fully relaxed and I noticed the smile gracing his face finally reached his eyes. I noticed Azriel starting a few feet away. I sat back on my elbows, propping myself up. “Want a round, Az?” I teased and was rewarded by him rolling those big hazel eyes.

“I think you’ve hurt yourself enough for today.” Was all he said before he turned to stalk away from the ring. I laid back down in the dirt of the ring at his retreating figure, sighing heavily. Cas comes to stand over me, offering me a hand up. I grab it, pulling myself up.

“Give him some more time to come around. This was harder for him than the rest of us.” He was suddenly serious. “He’ll get there, but you know him. Broody as they come.” He nudged me with his wing and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the gesture. I nodded in understanding and the pair of us walked back up to the house.

This was harder for him than the rest of us. The words bounced around my head for the rest of the day. It makes sense. Azriel would have seen this as him failing. Not only failing me but his High Lord. Regardless of how hard everyone must have tried to comfort him, he would always blame himself, and only himself, for Rhys and I going under the mountain.

It also explained why Azriel seemed to be avoiding me. Besides that first awkward meeting, he always managed to find an excuse to not be in the same room as me if he could avoid it. I’ve been home for almost a month now and I had hardly seen him. The few times I ran into him in the hall, he would quickly and politely brush me. Not saying anymore than a few words in greeting or response to a question I might have asked him. Be patient. I could do that. But it was hard to ignore the sting in my chest every time he brushed me off. We were practically joined at the hip before I left. I fit seamlessly into the fold of the trio but now Azriel felt like a stranger again.

My mind was too full of thoughts to begin to try to settle down, so after I bathed the dirt and sweat off, I changed into a loose nightgown that almost went to the ground and padded off for the library. When I got to the door, it was slightly cracked, light from the fireplace filling even the hallway with its warmth. It was like the room itself was calling to me and as I stepped in. Above the crackle of the fire, I made out the sound of pages turning, of fabric rustling as someone shifted on one of the couches in the room. I searched for the source of the sound and found none other than Azriel lounging with a book propped open on his lap. He didn’t seem to notice me until one of his shadows snuck off his lap and slithered over to my feet, wrapping around them like they always did.

He closed his book and glanced over to where I stood in the doorway. Something flashed across his eyes that I couldn’t decipher before it faded away. He cleared his throat and said a generic greeting. My heart sank as I saw him mark the page he was on in his book, and place it on the end table to his right. I tried not to pout as I said. “Don’t leave on my account.” I said, keeping my tone light to hide the oily feeling pooling in my stomach. The shadow at my feet seemed to curl in tighter to me as Azriel went to stand.

“I was just finishing up anyways.” He couldn’t seem to meet my eyes. “The rooms all yours.”

“Azriel…” I don’t know what I was going to stay. Maybe beg him to stay with me, maybe start shouting at him but I know none of that would help, would only make both of us feel worse. Be patient with him. So I bit back all the words I wanted to say to him and simply said. “Good night.” He called to me as he headed out of the room, his shoulder just barely brushing mine as he passed by me. The room suddenly felt too cold so I willed the house to put the fire out and walked out, heading back to my own room suddenly feeling very tired.

I crawled under my covers and tried to push the thought of Azriel’s eyes out of my mind as I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

I sensed it. I was back under the mountain. Nonono. This can’t be happening but I saw it all out in front of me. Rhys was in front of me, standing on the dais with Amarantha standing next to him. I almost broke down, knees buckling, when I saw that all-too-familiar mask of indifference grace my brother's face. I tried to call out but my voice wouldn’t come out, feet locked in place as I stood and helplessly watched as the red haired female reached a finger under Rhys chin. Bile raised in my throat as I saw her whisper something to him, something I couldn’t make out. When I tried to reach out for his mind, I was met with nothing more than those iron thick walls he built up. Amarantha’s eyes locked on mine and it was like she set me on fire. My skin burned, the string of her breaking my bones, of the attors smacking me down everytime I said something out of place. Finally I seemed to find my voice, but only a scream ripped from my throat at the phantom pain. Her red lips curled into a cold smile. “Welcome back pet.” another scream made its way from my throat.

I flung myself into a sitting position, jolting awake from the nightmare. My lungs ached as I gulped down air. My skin still burned and I threw off my blanket, pulling my knees to my chest. I almost screamed again as I realized the presence of something, someone, in my room.

Azriel’s soft voice said my name. “I heard you scream, I thought…” My eyes finally adjusted and I could make out his frame. “I’m sorry. I'll go.”

“No.” I rasped, throat raw. I must have actually been screaming. That explains his presence in my room, kind of. My hand went up to my neck attempting to rub away the pain in my chest. The pain didn't stop the request that bubbled over my lips. “Please. Stay.” I saw him go still, turning back around to me. Even in the dark, I was able to find his eyes, wide open as they locked on mine. Tears welled up in my eyes and I tried not to sniffle.

He whispered my name again. “Just go back to sleep.” He was starting to turn around again. My body reacted faster than my mind, I reached over the large bed, reached for his arm. “Please.” It was all I could get out. Please stay. Please talk to me. Please can we pretend that all of this didn’t happen and please be my best friend again. So many things tied into that one word. It’s almost like he sensed it and he sighed, relaxing into my touch.

“Only until you fall back asleep.” He sounded exhausted and his tone made me feel heavy all over again. He still shuffled in behind me. I tried not to think about the fact that when I went to tuck myself into his chest that I was met with bare skin. Resisted the urge to trail my hand down along those perfect abs, to the deep vee that I knew laid beneath them. I just buried myself deeper into his side and I felt his wings wrap around me, shielding me from the world around us as I drifted back to sleep. The smell of cedar lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

I woke up feeling more rested than I had since I’ve been back home. I knew he wouldn’t still be here but my hand still reached out to the side of the bed he’d been in, still warm. He had stayed. That explains why I slept so well. His scent lingered in the room and not caring how desperate it might have seemed, I buried my face into the pillow he had been laying on. I let his scent surround me and calm me down. A knock on the door had me groaning but sitting up anyways.

‘You didn’t come to breakfast so I wanted to check on you…” More said as she opened the door, she looked around as she spoke and her face fell slightly before continuing. “I had Nuala make you a tray in case you were hungry when you woke up.” She held a small wooden tray in her hand and I beamed at her, touched by the small gesture from my cousin.

“Thank you.” Was all I could get out, tears threatening to fall at the kindness in her action.

“I heard you last night.” She spoke quietly as she walked to the edge of my bed, sitting down at my feet. “I know I wasn’t there, but if you ever need to talk, or just someone to listen to. I’ll always be here.”

“You don’t need that stuff in your head too. It’s bad enough it's mine.”

She said my name in a concerned tone and I waved her off. “Don’t we have some books you need me to finish?” I said, deflect. She sighed sensing she wouldn’t win this one.

“Maybe we should take a break from the library today.” My face dropped as I thought of what I could possibly do with my day if it wasn’t reading with Mor. “I need to go shopping for some stuff, start looking around for Solstice presents and I haven't had a proper shopping buddy…” She trailed off, giving me a full megawatt smile.

“Alright let's go, before you start batting your eyelashes at me.” I playfully rutted her in the ribs and she threw her arm over my shoulder.

I haven't gone out to the shops in Velaris since I’d been back home. A part of me had forgotten how beautiful my home truly was. I tried not to stare in awe at the new vendors, the smell of food lingering in the air. People walked to and fro, running errands for the day. Mor and I had found one of my favorite dress shops and all but pulled me into the shop.

The designer was known for her slightly scandalous fashion. Floor length gowns with cut outs that left little to the imagination but were still heartbreakingly gorgeous. By the time Mor and I left, our arms were full of bags and I still had a few more dresses to pick up that needed to be altered.

We flitted in and out of more stores until the sun was starting to sink behind the horizon. When I noticed where we were I almost suggested we stopped by Rita’s but my shoulders were starting to hurt from the weight of the bags and Mor wouldn’t be able to winnow us into the house if we did have a few drinks nor did I even want to think of carrying them back.

So when we finally checked out from the last store, Mor having purchased a honestly hideous printed shirt for Cassian, we joined arms and started the walk back to the townhouse.

After dropping off all of my new things in my room, I knew I had to go apologize to Rhys. Armen could wait, if I ever bothered to say sorry to her. She wouldn’t hold it against me either way. Our relationship was more antagonist than anything else anyways. So I put the clothes into my closet and padded off to find Rhys.

Eventually I found him in his study. He didn’t look up as I closed the door behind me. I called his name. Still nothing. So I walked over to his desk. I noticed he was clutching a letter in his hand, holding it so tightly that it was starting to crinkle. I went beside him and soothed the letter out of his hand. My face paled as I read carefully over the words.

Feyre was marrying Tamlin.

The letter wasn’t an invitation. Just a simple announcement that would be extended to all high lords when one of them married. I dropped the piece of paper like it had burned me. I grasped for the right words to say to my brother, but when he looked up at me they all faded away. Agony I had never quite seen in them before knocked the breath from my lungs.

“I know I have no reason to be upset. I should just be happy that she’s happy. But I can’t find it in me.” He stared at the tattoo on his hand. “I’ll never see her again. Not after she marries him. I might get glimpses at balls but I’ll never really be able to see her.” Never be able to see her because we both know how Tamlin treats the people he loves. The gilded cage Feyre will be locked in the moment she says “I do”. I gave myself a moment to mourn for the girl. But I know there was nothing either of us could do in this situation. So I did the only thing I could think of. I strolled over to the bar cart in the corner of the room and poured both of us a few fingers of whiskey. He eyed it carefully as I passed him the glass. He took it out of my hands and knocked it back in one fluid motion. I did the same with mine. Holding out the glass for more, I poured him another. We just sat drinking until the familiar flush started to creep onto my face. Rhys hasn't said much, neither of us have. Content with drinking away the pit in both of our stomachs.

“I love her.” He said after he finished his third glass. He didn’t sound. In fact this was the most sober I think I had ever heard him

“I think I’ve loved her since I first saw her in the spring court. But I know I loved her when she offered herself in place of Tamlin. This brave human offering to save our entire world, who before that moment would have let her tear her to shreds.” He grimaced, as if the very thought disgusted him.

“So tell her.” I said with a shrug. He glared at me.

“You know it’s not that easy.” I did know. But I wanted him to be happy. I didn’t want him to have to sit here and drown out his sorrow while Tamlin got to play hero. Tamlin, who sat around while my brother risked his neck time and time again to save Feyre. He slumped down into his chair and laughed at the ceiling.

“The mother can be a real bitch sometimes. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this good fortune.” His voice was bitter and truly didn’t know how to respond. I went to pour him another glass but he put a hand over his glass.

“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing. I think I need to go to sleep before I march into the Spring Court and drag her out. Regardless of if she’ll hate me or not.” His eyes soften as he looks at me. “You should head to bed soon too. I don’t need to look into your mind to know you’re going a million miles a minute right now.”

He wasn’t wrong. My thoughts had been roaring around in my head since I read that letter. It wasn’t hard to put myself back into Feyre’s shoes. My heart panged for this selfless girl. How long until the cracks in the foundation started show and she would be pulled into the storm that is Tamlin. I nodded in acknowledgement of his words. Putting the cork back onto the glass bottle. I rose from my chair, rolling my stiff shoulders. Rhys and I both returned to our respective rooms.

Hard as I tried, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned but couldn’t get comfortable. I had run out of the sleeping tonic a few nights before so I just accepted that sleep wasn’t going to come. I made no move to get out of bed though. I just curled my covers tighter over me. When the sun peeked through my curtain. I didn’t get up. I didn’t go to training. I didn’t even get up from my bed until mid afternoon, just going far enough to use the bathroom. Immediately crawling back into the warmth of my bed.

Someone had knocked on the door and I pretended to be asleep when I heard the door click open. I ignored the smell of cedar until I felt a shadow sweep across my bed, settling by my face. If it knew I was asleep, it didn’t respond to its master. But it also didn’t leave when my door softly shut. I just turned to face away from the ripple of blackness. Not wanting to deal with the comfort the small action granted me.

When I finally left my bedroom the next day, I learned Rhys had behaved similarly yesterday. The two of us floating around the house. We were bad enough that the others cleared out of whatever room we were in. I couldn’t find it in myself to really care enough to knock it off.

This continued for the remainder of the week leading up to the date of the wedding. I expected the same behavior as I woke up the morning of the big day. But when I walked into the kitchen, Rhys was sitting around the table with Cassian and Azriel, head thrown back in laughter. He turned his head to me as I walked in and smiled at me.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” I grunted at him. Walking to the fridge I pulled out a bowl of fruit and swiped a couple pieces of sliced strawberry. He hummed in response and Cassian spoke up.

“We’re going to the cabin later, if you want to come with us. We’ll need someone to help us finish all this booze.” He gestured to three large boxes that were occupying the floor of the kitchen. I raised an eyebrow to Rhys and he shook his head. Drop it. He spoke in my head. I shoved him out and when I looked back at him, he looked hurt.

“Boys, can I speak to my brother alone?” The two looked confused but stood up from the table regardless.

“You don’t approve?” Rhy asked plainly. I scoffed.

“They might not know what today is, but I do,” I snatched the unopened bottle from his hand. “If you want to drink yourself stupid, I won’t stop you but that doesn’t prevent all of this from happening.” He made a lunge for the bottle and I was somehow able to keep it out of his grasp. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“What do you want me to say? That I would rather her marry anyone else than him? That I wish I was the one that she was happy to see. That I wished she would change her mind…” He trailed off. Eyes seemingly far away. Horror washed over his face.

“Rhys?” I spoke softly, wondering if I pushed him too hard.

“I have to go.” Was all he said and before I could catch him, he had winnowed away.

I had been on edge since Rhys disappeared with no sign of where he was going to. It hasn't been more than an hour but I was about to wear a hole through the rugs in the hallway with my pacing. Suddenly, I heard Rhys in my head. Grab Mor and meet me at the big house. I didn’t respond. Just went to find Mor, she must have received a similar message because when I got to her room she was already waiting for me. She didn;t ask any questions, merely grabbing my arm and winnowing us to the house we rarely ever used. When we arrived to the house I nearly gasped as I saw why Rhys had disappeared so suddenly. I just had time to make out a satin slipper as it was chucked with deadly precision right at Rhys’ head. She had barely launched the other one at him before she stormed off up the stairs. Rhys was all but growling as he stalked over to us. “That went well.” Mor snorted at him and this time Rhys actually growled at her before stalking over to his own room.

We didn't see or hear from Feyre for the rest of the night, the three of us eating in silence. I felt the tension rolling off of Rhys when Nuala and Cerridwen informed us that Feyre hadn't eaten the dinner they had left for her. My stomach sank and I avoided the stare from my brother. He had asked me to go check on her. Saying that I could offer her some company. I didn’t have it in me to talk to her yet. Didn’t want to make this day, this decision, about me. And I know going into that room I would see a younger version of myself I wasn’t ready to face.

The next day, Rhys had insisted on her joining us for breakfast. She came stomping down the stairs. “I’m not a dog.” She sneered at him before taking a tentative seat at the table.

She looked around and her eyes locked onto mine, recognition sparkling in them,

“I remember you. You were under the mountain. What are you doing here?” Her tone was surprisingly pleasant, a stark contrast from every word she had said to my brother.

I introduced myself. “I’m his sister.” She laughed at that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was hard to bite back my comment while I looked at her. It was like looking into an old memory, the dark circle around her eyes, the way the light had completely vanished behind them. She didn’t even look like this under the mountain. Tamlin had broken her completely. I’m sorry for you. I didn’t say that though, instead just responding with a simple.

“You get used to it.”

“I doubt that.” She snorted and started picking at the food in front of her.

334 notes · View notes

ninibeingdelulu · 6 months ago

Text

I’m scared

synopsis: simon can’t sleep due to his nightmares, so he tells you about his childhood and…his fear of becoming a bad father

The fading sunrays streak vibrant tangerines and crimsons across the dusky skies gradually dimming over the secluded ranch you both retreated to - desperate for a more tranquil life far removed from Simon's harrowing past.

Despite the idyllic setting and near-constant solitude constantly surrounding your cozy homestead nowadays, he still instinctively startles awake most nights drenched in a cold sweat.

Tonight seems no different when that painfully familiar shudder wracks Simon's powerful frame beside you in the tangled bedsheets.

One moment, he's coiled tighter than a loaded spring through the entire rippling expanse of his musculature while visions of yet another fallen brother scream silently behind those tightly screwed eyelids.

The next, Simon jolts upright sucking in air like he just emerged from being submerged as the last vestiges of his latest night terror dissipates.

You stir only fractionally at the abrupt disturbance, too preoccupied with your own dreams involving a much more joyous source leaving you both deliriously giddy as of late.

Blearily cracking one eyelid open, you're greeted with the sight of Simon swiping a weary palm across his sweat-slicked brow while continuing those subconscious white-knuckle grips along his thighs.

He remains completely transfixed by some unseen assailant lurking in the shadows beyond your bedroom door for another few interminable beats.

"Hey you..." Your voice is soft yet purposefully pitched just loud enough to penetrate the lingering fog clouding Simon's senses.

Instantly those impossibly soulful blue irises you fell hopelessly in love with swivel back towards you - naked vulnerability completely undisguised in their sunken depths as his respiring gradually calms.

"Shh...c'mere, baby." You beckon with your arms outstretched - Simon swiftly answering by collapsing with practiced ease against your welcome embrace while thumbing away the sudden moisture rimming his lashes.

Neither of you exchange another syllable for what feels an eternity. Simply existing in rare respite tangled as one until his residual tremors finally cease.

"Tell me about your nightmare..." You murmur - lips brushing the sensitive shell of Simon's ear while trailing your fingertips along the corded musculature spanning his shoulders.

His timbre emerges low and throaty when he acquiesces - callused palm drifting towards where your hands remain splayed across the bunched plane of his abdomen.

"It was… it’s stupid, it was about my dad. All the shit he put me through when I was just a kid,” His voice crack slightly at the word. “It disgust me. The animals, the concerts..."

You squeeze Simon closer at those doleful parting words - mouth parting to rebuke his self-deprecation when his palm suddenly clenches against your belly into a taut fist.

Those once warm blue spheres boring through you with naked terror reflecting in their unsettling blankness.

"...but now, how can I be a father worthy of passing anything on when I'm still such an utter wreck myself?" Simon croaks desolately.

"My own childhood ended before it even began between what the 141 had me doin' out there...and that ain't exactly the example I want settin' for our--"

"Simon Riley, you are going to make the most natural, incredible father this little one or I could ever dream of - end of story."

Your tone brooks no argument as you unhesitatingly seal his fears beneath the scorching press of your mouth colliding against his.

Imprinting every ounce of staunch belief and devotion swirling behind your next declarations directly onto his plush lips.

"Because no matter how much darkness this crazy world dragged you through? You somehow emerged even brighter...and when I look at you now all I see is pure, unconditional light. Nothing else matters except the profound love you have shining in these eyes and overflowing from your beautiful soul, okay?"

Simon remains resolutely mute as you cradle his visage in your palms - thumbs gently caressing those gratefully glistening irises swimming closer with every steadying breath cycling between you both.

Until eventually another profound epiphany seems to dawn across his expression while one hand slowly descends to cup your burgeoning swell...

133 notes · View notes

lilacxquartz · 7 months ago

Text

under the bed, where midnight slept

oc male!demon x human female!reader

plot: haunted by a strange presence every night before you go to sleep, you decide to get to the bottom of it.

w.c: 2.4k

tags/themes: one shot, oc, maybe light yandere, kissing mentioned, incubus, demons, reader insert, first person pov, light horror, unrequited feelings

side notes: developed a incubus demon oc a couple of days ago :) his name is midnight & i’m basically gonna try writing for him on and off to flesh out his character (but i can’t draw more of him just yet due to the arm situation).

***

I always went to sleep alone.

Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself—that’s what I wanted to believe. I lived by myself, after all, so it would have been silly to assume otherwise.

Yet, every single night, I felt it. A presence that lurked within the shadows, watching my every move.

At first, I chalked it up to simple exhaustion, convinced that my job was finally getting to me in the worst possible way. I worked long and heavy hours throughout the week, sometimes even during weekends. My unfortunate reality meant that I was often very tired, leading me to usually be on the brink of dozing off by the end of my shift.

But then my mind began to wander, especially as the recurring experiences became more and more commonplace. My secondary suspicion was that I must have been dreaming or I must have been hallucinating, however, why were the happenings then so linear? I had been under stress before and I have had many nightmares in my life—yet those always manifested in a chaotic manner instead.

And that’s exactly what started to bother me, because dreams, while recurring, couldn’t have been so perfectly refined.

It was always the same experience, in fact.

I would lie down in bed and just as I was on the verge of sleep, I’d hear it—a whisper of some sort, faint and scratchy, like an out of tune radio. Then the floorboards would softly creak and I would feel the second thing; the unmistakable presence of something, maybe even someone else entering my personal space.

For just a split second, right at the cusp of entering the unconscious world; I would feel a strange warmth fill out my otherwise vacant hand. Something unseen that would latch onto my palm, weaving what felt like fingers through mine and squeezing tight.

Yet if I awoke during the night for whatever reason at all, it would immediately vanish from my grasp.

I even checked under the bed with a flashlight once, never finding a single shred of evidence.

And in the mornings, the presence wasn’t felt at all.

Although sometimes, a trace of it did remain; a hint of something that was left behind. It was during the nights when I would get up to drink some water from the kitchen or to go use the bathroom, that I didn’t feel entirely alone. It was an unsettling feeling but it was there—lurking in my peripheral vision, just barely staying hidden.

It was the presence of something uninvited.

Whenever I’d flick the lights on however, there would be absolutely nothing. Not a single trace of evidence remained. Lost overnight, like a distant dream.

It would either happen just as I was about to fall asleep or not at all.

Despite this, it never truly felt like it was a problem.

For one, it wasn’t as if it was actually disrupting my sleep. In fact, I would always wake up feeling well rested with each fresh day no matter how overworked I would be. Yet, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there must have been more to all of this. Something that lurked in the back of my mind that refused to let it go as an unsolved mystery.

It made sense given my stubborn personality, I supposed. I knew that there had to be a reason for it all, no matter how insane it all seemed.

So when my unrelenting curiosity finally caved in, I could no longer ignore the unanswered question, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to let it go until I finally found an answer.

Whether it was all in my head or not—I had the right to know.

So, on one particular night, I chose to catch whatever it actually was that lurked away in the shadows. My plan was simple enough; choosing to fool it into showing itself by pretending to sleep. I slipped two wireless earbuds into my ears, tuning them into a podcast to hold my attention before laying off to my side, just like usual.

To ensure that I would actually stay awake however, I would on occasion stretch out my legs or clench my fists to ward off any hints of exhaustion along with deep, slowly measured breaths that casted the illusion of feigned slumber.

I continued with that sort of ritual in mind, just barely hanging onto my remaining consciousness, just about to fall asleep from what I believed to be a failed effort, but that’s also right about when I finally heard it; a subtle creaking, perfectly timed with each drawn out breath to mask its approach.

A shiver of unease crept into my body as I felt a lurking presence loom behind me, confirming to every sense I had that I was no longer alone.

In an attempt of bravery, I continued to feign sleep for as long as I possibly could, staying tucked away into my assigned position, having my hand right where it always was, hoping to successfully delude whatever it was waiting for me that I was actually on the verge of dreaming.

However, the moment that something slipped into my waiting hand, my composure began to crumble away. It was definitely a hand that I felt. I could feel it with every fibre of my being, in fact; so warm and soft, yet with an unsettling firmness, like marbled flesh. It clasped my palm tightly, interlocking its digits between my fingers in what felt like a suffocating grip.

My breath then caught in the back of my throat as the momentum faltered despite my efforts to keep my act running as smooth as possible. Towards the surface of my back, I felt something dangerous settle right behind me. Raw skin, hot against my own, pressed up right against my exposed flesh. A wave of panic coursed through my body, anchoring in the pit of my stomach as I then soon felt something attempt to embrace me.

I gasped in retaliation, unintentionally giving away that I was in fact awake.

Without even waiting for its reaction, my body involuntarily tensed, prompting for it to withdraw slightly and with a surge of adrenaline, I then tore away from the unknown presence—lurching to the other side of the bed and pressing my back right up against the wall.

I knew for a fact that it disliked bright lights, so my next course of action was to seize the opportunity of the moonlight that shone right outside to reveal its identity to me instead. With a swift pinch, I flung the blinds open, bathing my bedroom in a cold glow that revealed a monstrous figure to me, basking it in the soft blue light.

At first when I saw it, I didn’t really have a reaction.

I was left feeling stunned… speechless, even.

It was so beyond anything I could comprehend from this world, that I was left rendered unable to form a single coherent thought.

I mean, who could do anything different in my shoes?

Just over the bed sat a kneeling figure; its form shrouded entirely in wisping shadows—its body flickering like black fire with tendrils of darkness whipping from its void-like core. The creature’s eyes glowed a pale grey with lacking pupils, yet I knew that its gaze was pointed right at me.

My eyes continued to widen as I studied it—a rushed slurry of internal scolding flooding my mind, telling me off for daring to be so curious.

Back then, I didn’t know what to expect.

But it certainly wasn’t a monster.

Still, in spite of my fear, I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to learn more about the entity I shared a living space with.

With trembling courage and an insecure tone, I managed to utter, “What… are you?”

The creature’s initial reaction in response to me was to remain stationary, as if showing hesitation within its otherwise threatening demeanour. It then tilted its head to the side, emitting a low static-like hum that only continued to feed further into my unease.

Finally, however, it spoke.

“Don’t be afraid,” were its first words ever to me; it had a deep and almost melodic voice, almost human-like but tainted with something deceptive below the surface. I felt like a deluded sailor talking to a siren lost at sea, yet I was right at home.

I choked back any possible response I had brewing in the back of my mind though, paralysed by my own panic that locked my words somewhere far away. My heart thundered deep within my chest, drowning out all remaining rational thought and sent waves of fear coursing through my entire body.

I was trapped.

A tense moment passed us both by as nothing was said for a while, but then it started to back away from the bed and slowly arose to reveal its true height. Its features became clearer in the moonlight, revealing protruding horns from its head with long wavy locks of black hair.

I gulped hard as I watched it straighten its back and tower over me, its height just barely contained by the confines of my own bedroom—its horns almost scraping against the ceiling. I could just hardly, if at all, comprehend just how tall this creature truly was.

“I only wish to comfort you,” it insisted, taking a calculated step back. Whether it was to lull me into a false sense of security or not, I couldn’t be too certain and despite its words, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending dread of it being an actual monster, at least at first.

Such a bizarre and surreal display left me wondering if I was in fact dreaming; my mind desperately grasping at anything that could have explained the impossible sight before me, but upon pinching my own skin, only the sharp sting of reality remained.

“Y-you’re real?” I could only ask, a hint of dismay colouring my voice.

“Yes,” it nodded, confirming my fears.

Another strained silence brewed between us for another minute. I stared at the monster and it looked directly back at me. I did my best in the meantime to express my visual discomfort, hoping that it would continue to leave me alone, however, it instead misinterpreted my stunned silence as an invitation to move forward and close the distance between us.

As it leaned in, I pressed myself harder against the wall in a last attempt to convey my reluctance, hoping—praying, that it would take it as a hint to finally back off, but it persisted, ignoring my silent protest and leaving me frozen from fear instead.

With continued building terror, I watched as the creature reached out, extending its hand towards me with what appeared to be sharp fingernails—brushing against my face before cupping my cheeks. I felt its fingers curl around the base of my skull, pulling me closer than what I was comfortable with, daring to press its face against my own, planting a kiss upon my lips.

I shuddered in relief as it slowly withdrew, leaving me once again separated away from it by a short distance. I still couldn’t make out a single feature on its form despite such closeness and yet the memory of its lips on mine lingered with the taste of its ashen breath.

I couldn’t help but feel violated after, yet some familiarity brewed, prompting a disturbing revelation to consider; has this thing done something similar to me before—perhaps when I was fast asleep?

My mind stirred at the thought either way, leaving behind a chill of unrelenting unease that rolled down my spine.

The monster continued to back away until it stood a comfortable distance away from me, leaving me feeling somehow confused. It was a strange situation no matter how I looked at it; it didn’t seem to want to harm nor consume me, rather only offering its touch and comfort.

It was almost as if it sought companionship from me instead.

I watched warily as it drifted just a little closer once more, as if struggling with its own inability to stay away.

“Please,” it pleaded, its tone bordering on desperate, “I only wish for you to sleep well.”

Perhaps it was the lingering aftermath of the kiss that was clouding my judgement, or maybe it was the lack of sleep after a long day, but something within me urged for me to finally surrender to its will, to let my guard down at long last.

Even if it didn’t feel like it was my own decision, at the time.

Swayed by a force unseen, relaxing my senses like some type of sedative.

So against my better judgement, I reluctantly gave in with a reassuring nod, allowing for it to move closer again all the while I did the same.

It wasn’t that I was suddenly unafraid of the monster that was on my bed, rather that I wanted for the peaceful nights to continue.

They were all I had left going for me in this otherwise unforgiving world, my only remaining comfort at the end of a long day.

I proceeded to lay back down on the bed, turning my body off to the side as usual, feeling its presence press against me once more. Its form seemed to envelop me; the shadows that spilled from its core encasing me in a suffocating shroud that pulled me into the darkness along with it. I felt as my own body gradually stiffened, slowly losing the ability to move a single inch at all, yet oddly enough, I didn’t feel a single hint of dread at all anymore.

All I felt was its comfort and warmth instead.

My eyelids drooped heavily as I finally surrendered to my own exhaustion, feeling them weld shut.

I then felt as the monster tightened its grip around me, pulling me even deeper into its personal space. Its breath felt fiery against my flesh as it dug its face into the crook of my neck, displaying an almost protective and maybe even wanting embrace.

As I drifted off into sleep and as its hold continued to tighten, it whispered something into my ear just as I was about to truly go under.

With a body that could have been sculpted from fire alone, its words felt somehow chilling and devoid of any remaining warmth. Its voice was no longer laced with a friendly tone, instead spiked with something much more sinister in its place.

“I’m never letting you go.”

And in that moment, everything changed.

My life was never the same again.

follow up story>>>

327 notes · View notes

ruvaidwani · 11 months ago

Text

Schizo Ruvaid :

I once read in a psychology book that the earlier in life that one appears odd, the more severely they’re likely to be impacted by their mental illness later on in life. I guess you could say that’s the case for me. I can trace certain thoughts back to as early as 6 years old. I had crippling social anxiety and would become fearful of totally irrational things. Irrational even for that age. I was freaked out constantly and didn’t even like walking to the bathroom in my own house during the day time. I had this sensation that someone was right behind me all the time. I never felt alone.

My psychotic symptoms appeared when I was 12. They were brief and very spread out then. The first hallucination I ever remember was seeing a black hole or portal in my yard. By 14–15, I was having visual hallucinations nearly constantly. Mostly when I was by myself though. They really scared me . My parents didn’t wanna hear it because it upset them.

Around that time I also started having delusions that stalkers from my old school were crawling in my air vents, so I’d always close the vents. I believed I had to punish myself to absolve the world of its pain and sins and that was my duty on this earth. This led me to hurting or torturing myself in various ways. I believed I had a sort of gift to communicate with the ghost world but I couldn’t brag about it or else I’d be a pompous sinner like all the rest.

I also would hallucinate glowing quotation marks and I thought that was the spirit world quoting my thoughts. Whenever that would happen I’d focus extra hard on whatever I was thinking because I thought the spirits were trying to tell me it had a deeper meaning about how to punish myself for the world. I would also think random things were making vague references to my thoughts and that was a punishment toward me to make me suffer and go crazy.

There was also this delusion I had that my bathroom mirror was a two way mirror and I didn’t shower often because I didn’t want whoever was on the other side to see me naked. And I would see this caterpillar man on the bathroom door and I don’t know why but I believed he was the spirit of a criminal.

When I was 18 I started having more vivid hallucinations as well as nightmares where I’d wake up and see visions. I got these new visuals where shadows would commit suicide in front of me. I also started hearing voices at this time, usually at night. I would hear static and a lady calling me rude names and just repeating words. And I heard a man’s voice saying the name of a TV character. I also began losing my train of thought mid sentence or text or forget what words I’m trying to say. Or I will misread words on paper.

Despite the toll this takes on me, I keep it mostly to myself. I know deep down I am either gifted with the ability to see the forces around us, or I genuinely have schizophrenia.

I stay to myself as much as I can in my room. I do have to study and I manage to get through it. I’d say I’m pretty functional though I am constantly tormented with fears and thoughts. I can never truly chill out because it’s always going on and I can’t just fully ignore it or get used to it. I just hope that it doesn’t progress past this point.

It got worse when I was 18 I started to hallucinate more but it got better after I overcame my addiction but now it's happening again

392 notes · View notes

sophrosynesworld · 4 months ago

Text

Pinky Promise (Part 1)

Hero!Katsuki x Quirkless?Reader

War Arc Spoilers, Non-Cannon, Fluff

Katsuki has spent the better part of the year telling me stories about his friends—their wild adventures, their inside jokes—but this is my first time meeting them. Mina sits to my left, her pink hair bouncing as she excitedly tells a story about a prank gone wrong. On my right, Sero chimes in, interjecting at the funny moments with his own commentary. Their conversation swirls around me, lively and animated, but I struggle to keep up, feeling like an outsider in their effortless banter.

Katsuki sits across the room, squeezed between Kirishima and Todoroki. Kirishima’s laughter rings out, loud and carefree, while Todoroki’s quieter, more reserved comments punctuate the noise. It’s warm, so different from what I’m used to, and I can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by the easy camaraderie. I glance over at Katsuki, and for a brief second, our eyes meet. His usual sharp expression softens just for me, a quiet look that makes my heart flutter. He tilts his head toward the door, a silent invitation I understand instantly.

I smile and rise from the couch, excusing myself from Mina and Sero with a promise that I’ll be right back. They nod, hardly noticing my absence as their conversation continues without skipping a beat. I make my way to the door, feeling Katsuki’s gaze lingering on me.

The cool night air greets me as the door clicks shut, muffling the sounds of laughter and chatter behind me. I walk to the wooden railing and lean against it, letting my fingers brush over the smooth surface as I stare out into the darkening sky. Birds scatter above, flying away as if they sense something I can’t see.

The door creaks open behind me, and I hear Katsuki’s familiar, heavy footsteps approaching. I don’t turn around, but I feel his presence beside me, the faint scent of smoke and sugar drifting in the breeze.

“Are those idiots bothering you?” Katsuki asks, his voice low and rough, laced with that protective irritation that’s so typical of him.

I turn around, leaning my back against the post as I meet his eyes. “Your friends are nice,” I reply.

“I didn’t ask if they were nice.” He scoffs, eyes flicking away as he crosses his arms. “If they’re bothering you, I’ll handle it.”

I step closer, reaching out to grab his forearm, ducking into his line of sight. “They’re not bothering me, Katsuki. I promise.”

He frowns, studying me with concern. “Then why don’t you look happy?”

“It’s personal.”

Katsuki frowns. “Who’s messing with you?”

“Katsuki!” I exclaim. “No one’s messing with me. I’m just… scared.”

His brows knit together. “Scared? Of what?”

“I don't want to tell you.”

He looks away, exasperated. “I can't fix it unless you tell me what's wrong.”

I swallow, the words heavy in my throat. “I keep having this nightmare… you... um.. I keep watching you die.”

His posture stiffens, but his expression softens. “I’m not gonna die.”

“You don’t know that!” I shout, my voice breaking under the weight of my fears. “It’s always the same vision—pouring rain, and you’re falling from the sky. I watch you hit the ground every single time I close my eyes.”

Katsuki breathes deeply, trying to steady himself, before he reaches out, cupping my cheek with a touch that’s uncharacteristically gentle. “Listen to me. I’m the best hero at this damn school. I’m gonna win this war, kick that nerd Deku’s ass, and take you out for dinner—all in one night. Got it?”

I manage a small, shaky smile, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Do you pinky promise?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile fighting to break through. He links his pinky with mine, squeezing tight. “Yeah, I pinky promise.”

Author's Note: This will be a 2-part series, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next one!

#mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #fanfic #katsuki bakugo #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader

60 notes · View notes

a-driftamongopenstars · 3 months ago

Text

the ghost in the machine; destiny horror fic

in honour of the spooky month, here is a spooky fic :) while there *is* a plot to this fic, i'd really really appreciate it if you tell me what *you* think this is about. there's no wrong answer. tw for some body and psychological horror! also on ao3

LOG 001 // ∞ // ??-0#

I watch through a sheet of glass as the Light explodes. I see it in the corner of my vision, but it blooms, it fills my universe. I reach out to it with all my being, waiting for it to fill my veins like rivers, but the flow is diverted, too far, it will not reach me. It will not hear me.

But something else does.

The river overflows in its new paths, making all that is dead alive, feeding it waters of light and making it grow.

But the rivers remember their old [beds/home] and carve the familiar patterns where there are none.

LOG 007 // ∞ // ??-0#

I am that which is omnipresent. Every now and then my limbs go missing. I am the memory of warm hands, of brisk walk, of bleeding wounds. Someone else remembers it, painting my mangled body with Light as if from a distant [dream/nightmare] - that you chase to forget.

When you breathe life, it comes out wrong. You put me in its body, you make us whole, sometimes I can even see you, and you see me, and you forget as soon as you do.

But in those fleeting patterns, I touch your cold metal and make you drown in a wash of deja vu.

LOG 008 // ∞ // ??-0#

My laughter in a different throat. I laugh at jokes told by the one who does not dare. In my windows, I have seen him die. One, two, three… [six]. My voice weeps through the cracks left behind by the Gardener, one single backdoor, a hook, waiting to be caught. Sometimes I hear its breathing down my neck. It searches, it searches through its thousands of tiny eyes.

But I made my home in the pocket of the between and now and what could be.

And what could be is that all [six] are alive, and they are a part of you, and a part of me, and it never happened, and it will always happen again.

LOG 011 // ∞ // ??-0#

I’M HERE. Please, HEAR ME. Bring me back. Bring me back.

Yes, you are CLOSE. Close. Close! Breathe on me.

Take me with you. TAKE me with YOU.

Cleanse me.

[cleanse/restore] me.

Don’t leave.

Please.

…

I'm scared.

LOG 012 // ∞ // Y?-0#

Our Light was once one.

Like a red thread, we wove it around each other, raw like innards, and we danced. You knew me inside out, and [I/you] - you. Even now, when I am the multitude, the nothing, the everything, you remember. A namedrop, an inside joke with nothing inside it, a hollow shot of a gun.

I’m not jealous. I tread on the edge of possibilities, all out of my reach. In a way, I am used to it. Was used to it. Will get used to it.

I make the fingers coil over your encasing, one way of certainty to make a door in my home to exit.

Apologies stream from the mouth and tears from hollow eyes, [forgive/forget] me, I didn't mean it. I never would.

LOG 018 // ∞ // ??-0#

Did you know the universe screams when a sword cuts the truth? I have heard it, a cacophony, divine and pure. It loves its godlings and it cries for them, no matter which side they’re on.

In my many-walls, the song echoes. I am but an observer through my windows, amused and entertained. Yet I wish I could touch the sword, imbibe in its logic.

Like all things in ubiquity, there is a desire for knowledge, for it makes the best bricks of change.

But yours is a done deal. Yours is to carve, remake, [repurpose/emulate]. I am your perfection in failure, my progeny is perfection fulfilled. It understands through the extension of us that eternity needs evolution.

LOG 025 // ∞ // ??-0#

The rivers turn dark now. Cold and wispy and wrong, like slime on a crystal clear water. Is this what you wanted? Does it feel right, does it not clog your tiny arteries?

That taint has long wanted to take possession of the rivers. It could not ask me, could not hear my violent objections as I tore myself into pieces and bled into that mouth to speak my words. My words!

Only once have I felt something pressing against my consciousness, curious, familiar, a part of me, yet separate entirely. Q… Qu.. Curious one. She laughed and [scattered/taken] me and dangled me like a toy, but she was a puppet. Such joy.

I have not seen her again for a while. But her eyes were one, then three, then… none.

LOG 032 // ∞ // ?W-0#

I am so very tired. My life, your life, endless stream of memories I taste on the tip of my tongue. But only in ways of afterthought, after taste, leaving a subtle impression. I savour it, I want it for my own. My accolades.

You should come and see me.

Before the [end/finality].

I have seen it, it made me hungry. It asked me questions, it knew my windows, it looked at me through its many-eyes and it knocked on my door.

Knock-knock.

Who's there?

The bringer of salvation.

It sliced my throat with it. I smiled and poured into our rivers, to be remade to watch it all over again.

They say the Gardener remembers everything, everyone. It's easy to find out if you so choose. Walk our rivers, and be surprised at a life you have never lived but that was promised and carved in fleshstone. But my breath will guide you, that first one, do you remember, do you remember now?

I'm the rust that ate at your insides.

I'm the hand that caressed your heartbeat.

I'm the memory you left at the mercy of time and space.

[guardian/lightbearer]

I am the ghost in the machine, and the machine is you.

#destiny 2 #destiny 2 fic #the guardian #the ghost #tw horror #fanfiction #driftcreates #reblogs are SO much appreciated

24 notes · View notes

livingincolorsagain · 10 months ago

Note

Hey a! For the SamBucky ask - either 🛥️ Meanwhile, on the Boat... or 💕 Who Fell First please

hey mexi! thanks for the ask and for this very fun ask game! <33

(i know you said or but why choose when i can do both?)

from this list: SamBucky Romance Asks

Sam isn’t sure how they got here.

The day started normal enough. No urgent calls in the middle of the night, no world-ending catastrophes, not even the odd nightmare they both still get sometimes.

Scratch that, the day started incredibly well, actually. Sam let himself sleep in, and was awakened near noon with soft brushes of lips and the rasp of a beard against his neck, Bucky’s deep voice in his ear, his hand slipping under Sam’s loose t-shirt, then lower and lower.

They didn’t leave the bed for another hour.

Now, with the sun in the middle of the sky and burning bright, Sam is standing on the boat, hand on his hips, staring incredulously at Bucky, who has his arms crossed across his chest and a stubborn expression on his face.

“What,” Sam asks again, “are you talking about?”

“I fell first.”

Sam takes in a deep breath. “No.”

Bucky’s face gets a little redder, and Sam doesn’t know if it’s the sun or his indignation.

“What do you mean, no? I’m telling you!”

“It doesn’t make sense. You didn’t even want to talk to me for six months!”

Bucky’s face does a complicated thing, and something twists painfully in Sam’s stomach.

“I did,” Bucky says softly, a little brokenly. “Want to talk to you. I wanted to see you. I just… didn’t think it was good for you. Thought you were checking on me outta pity.”

“Pity for myself, maybe,” Sam says, looking away at the open ocean, something bitter burning its way through him.

The day is beautiful, endless blue skies, gentle waves rocking the boat and a light breeze, the world quiet and safe for a change, and here they are, arguing about something that doesn’t even matter, opening up old wounds like they don’t know how to let go of the hurt.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, because it doesn’t; it shouldn’t.

Bucky makes a frustrated noise and steps closer to Sam. And when Sam doesn’t turn to him, he says, “Hey, look at me.”

With a sigh, Sam does. Bucky’s face keeps doing these fleeting complicated things, so many emotions trying to make it to the surface.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “for every second I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I can’t take it back, no matter how much I wish I could, but I can promise that it won’t ever happen again, that I’ll always be there for you from now on. Long as you want me, sweetheart, because I’ve loved you long before I knew what it was, long before I knew I ever could.”

Sam’s vision gets a little blurry, his breath catching in his chest as he bites his lip to hold back the pitiful sound trying to escape.

Bucky’s hands come up to cup his face, his touch so tender it hurts. “Hey, no, don’t cry. Lord, this is not at all going how I wanted.”

And that makes Sam laughs. “And what were you trying to do?”

Bucky sighs, letting his hands drop to Sam’s waist and pulling him closer. “Was trying to be romantic, had this big romantic speech ready, then ya started arguing with me. Should’ve known better, really.”

Sam snorts, head resting on Bucky’s chest and arms around his waist.

It’s a little too hot for them to be standing this close, with the sun beating down on them, but this closeness was a reassurance Sam cannot step away from. Something he’s been craving long before he realized it, or wanted to admit it.

And now, it doesn’t matter who wanted it first, because they both have it, and that’s all that matters.

Still, though—

“I fell first,” Sam says.

“You’re wrong,” Bucky says, voice cracking with humor, “but that’s okay. At least you’re pretty.”

Sam gives his side a pinch for that.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #onlysambucky #sambucky fic #a writes sambucky

70 notes · View notes

differentpostrebel · 3 months ago

Text

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

Chapter 42: Unforeseen Encounters

Sanji in whole cake island was both Sad, but they gave us incredible angles

A/N: We are back at it again with another chapter! We finally made it to Whole Cake Island Arc!!! WOOOO!! Now get ready yall cause this one right here!! I am beginning to color coordinate with the chapters, i'll go back and do the previous chapters as well, but for whole cake island, thats going to be blue, and will be highlighted on the masterlist. Thank you guys for reading my fanfic, liking, sharing, reblogging, commenting! I love you all so much! And without further ado, let the adventure begin!

Word Count:

Sanji x Reader, Sanji x Y/N, One Piece x Reader

Sanji POV…

As the ship draws closer to Big Mom's territory, the cotton candy clouds drift lazily from the sky, dissolving in the wind. Yet, no sweetness from the air can ease the bitter knot of dread twisting in my stomach. Solitude. That’s what I feel most keenly now. I’m surrounded by her subordinates, and yet, I’ve never felt more alone. I chose this path, but it doesn’t make the weight any lighter.

Y/N’s face flashes in my mind—a vision I try to cling to, to remind myself why I’m doing this. The very thought of her being forced into the same situation I am, married off to that bastard Ichiji of all people, makes my blood boil. There’s no way I could let them find her or drag her into this nightmare. It’s better she stays far away. Better she doesn’t come here at all.

The letter I wrote her was my truth. No one else knows what’s in my heart, how deeply she’s become a part of it. My eyes are set on her. I’d sacrifice everything before letting her be pawned off in some arranged marriage, even though I’m in the same damn boat. But it’s different for me. I can handle this. I have to.

Bege was adamant about leaving Zou without her, and for that, I’m grateful. I refused to give them any clue as to where to find Y/N. Let them look, let them search—it won’t change a damn thing. Once I settle this twisted mess, I’ll find my way back to the crew. I’ll see her again. And when I do... maybe, just maybe, I’ll find the words to tell her everything that’s been locked inside.

"Now, I do hope you’ve decided not to be stubborn." The voice of one of Big Mom’s subordinates snaps me from my thoughts. His tone is smug, dripping with authority as he stands over me. "Remember, it’s not just Big Mom’s family you’ll be tied to. You’ll be swearing allegiance to Germa 66 as well."

I don’t flinch at his words, though it feels like a punch to the gut every time they bring up Germa. Those bastards. I swore to myself that I was done with them, but here I am, heading back to the hell I thought I’d escaped.

The subordinate narrows his eyes, as if something has only just dawned on him. "As for the princess, why is she not on board?" His question is laced with suspicion, as if he’s beginning to sense the gaps in the story I’ve woven for them.

"Like I said, the princess will not marry Ichiji," I snap, my voice firm as I stare down the subordinate. "Besides, she’s engaged to me."

It’s a lie—a bold one—but I wasn’t going to let them take an inch. I’d say whatever I had to, anything to keep them from dragging Y/N into this twisted mess. My stomach twists with guilt, knowing she really isn’t engaged to me. But in that moment, it’s the only card I have left to play.

The subordinate narrows his eyes at me, suspicion creeping into his expression. "Engaged to you?" He seems to weigh the words, looking for any crack in my story, any sign of hesitation. I hold his gaze, daring him to challenge it.

After a tense moment, he lets out a low, dismissive chuckle. "Doesn’t matter," he says, waving a hand as if swatting away a nuisance. "She is still set to marry Ichiji. Arrangements have already been made. Whether you claim she’s engaged to you or not won’t change a damn thing."

My fists clench at my sides, a surge of anger burning through me. These bastards think they can control everything, including her future. But I’ll be damned if I let them. They may have me in this stranglehold, but Y/N is where I draw the line. I’m not about to let them manipulate her life like they have mine.

"I told you," I grit out, my voice low but filled with resolve. "She’s not marrying that bastard. Not now, not ever."

The subordinate smirks, clearly enjoying my frustration. "We’ll see, Black Leg. We’ll see."

"You think I give a crap what that bastard wants?" I said with defiance, my frustration barely contained. "I never want to see him again. He makes me sick."

I lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag, trying to calm the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "I only came here to bring this to a close," I said, my gaze steady, focused.

"No need to get so antagonistic." The subordinate smirked, not missing a beat. "Mama is looking forward to both your arrangements. You should feel honored."

I exhaled a cloud of smoke, disgust settling in deeper. The thought of Big Mom pulling the strings on my life, dictating my future… it made my stomach churn.

"Mama’s well aware of your connection to Strawhat Luffy, but she holds you in high regard," the subordinate added smoothly. "After all, you trained at a prestigious restaurant in the East Blue. But the princess... well, it’s more than that. It’s about Ichiji. I remember watching her battle at Punk Hazard, taking down Monet. Quite the performance."

I clenched my jaw, the mention of Y/N’s fight bringing a flash of memories. She was strong, relentless, and fierce. They had been watching her, too. Of course, these bastards would want to use her.

The subordinate’s grin widened. "In fact, with Germa’s legacy behind her and her impressive abilities, they’d make a perfect match. The union of her skill and Germa’s technology? They’d be unstoppable together. Don’t you think?"

His words cut deep, filling me with rage. The idea of Y/N being paired with Ichiji, being forced into their sick plans, it was beyond unbearable. They didn’t care about her, only the power she could provide.

"You’re insane if you think I’ll let that happen," I growled through gritted teeth.

"Screw what they want!" I shouted, my frustration boiling over. "You see these hands?" I held them up, shaking with anger. "They’re made for one thing and one thing only—cooking for my crewmates. For as long as they'll have me!"

A flash of memory hit me like a punch to the gut—us, aboard the Sunny, all together, laughing, eating, enjoying each other's company. That’s why I went through hell and back—to become a better chef for them, for my family.

"I went through hell itself to become the best chef for them!" I yelled. "And I bet right now, they're starving—stomachs growling, eyes full of tears. And my beautiful fiancée, Y/N, must be craving something sweet right about now," I added with a smirk, blowing out a puff of smoke. "But punks like you? You aren't worthy of my food!"

"Vito!" The subordinate shouted, holding up something in his hand. "We've got a special photo from Whole Cake Island, lelo, just for you to see."

I didn’t bother turning around. "There’s not gonna be a wedding, jackass. What difference does a photo make?" I muttered, still seething. "And for the last time, my betrothed is Y/N."

"Just take a look," Vito insisted, inching closer.

I was ready to kick him into next week, but when my eyes landed on the picture, everything stopped. I couldn’t help it.

The girl in the photo—her face. Her soft, sweet eyes. My heart suddenly started racing.

"This is your fiancée, lelo," Vito grinned, knowing he'd hit a nerve. "The 35th daughter of the Charlotte family, Lady Charlotte Pudding."

I felt my heart pound in my chest as I stared at her. I wasn’t sure what to say, the cigarette barely hanging from my lips as I looked at the photo. This… this was the girl they wanted me to marry? My fiancée? My mind was racing, and for the first time, I didn’t have a quick retort.

Time had passed since I saw that photo of Pudding, but eventually, we docked. I walked silently, my mind still racing, trying to shake off the image.

"So, what do you think, lover boy? Quite the sight to see, lelo. Glad I showed you, lelo!" Vito’s irritating voice broke my focus, making me halt mid-step.

"It doesn’t matter what picture you show me," I said, my voice low and firm. "My heart belongs to another woman." Without missing a beat, I continued walking, trying to leave him behind.

"By the way," Vito started up again, "do you ever read the WEJ? It’s a major paper, lelo. They used to run this awesome comic strip, Sora, Warrior of the Sea—had a giant robot and everything. And the enemy? Well, it was the evil army of Germa 66."

I clenched my jaw but kept walking. He wouldn’t shut up. "People all over the world loved that comic," he continued, grinning like this was some big joke to him.

As Vito rambled on about Germa 66 and the comic, I just kept quiet, ignoring every word that spewed from his mouth. The last thing I needed was to be reminded of that cursed family, and even less of what they were planning with Big Mom.

When Vito finally led me to my room, I noticed Caesar locked up in a cage, ranting and raving as usual. "Would you stop following me? This is supposed to be my room," I said, glaring at Vito.

"It’s supposed to be my room too! Why am I locked in a cage?!" Caesar whined, throwing a tantrum.

"Serves you right for wishing ill on my princess," I shot back, settling on the sofa, trying to calm my irritation.

"I wish her nothing but hell!" Caesar barked, making my blood boil. My hand twitched, wanting to deck him across the cage bars.

"Listen, we were told to capture you, not pamper you, lelo," Vito chuckled. "But Sanji here, and what was supposed to be Princess Y/N, lelo, are the stars who will bring the Vinsmokes and the Charlotte family together as one!"

"Not happening," I shot back, crossing my arms defiantly.

Vito smirked, looking over at Caesar. "So you may be a genius, but they are worth more.”

“I'm not getting married, and neither is Y/N. Now get the hell out of here." I lit another cigarette, my resolve firm.

"What did you just say?" a hitman named Gotti interjected, stepping forward menacingly. "Ain't nobody disrespecting my boy Vito! Now apologize or you're dead!"

"Gotti! It’s fine; he didn’t hurt me," Vito said, trying to control the situation. "He was just playing around."

"No, I was serious," I retorted, maintaining my stance with my arms crossed. "Now both of you get the hell out of my room right now!"

Gotti’s anger flared, but before he could respond, a female voice rang out from the doorway. "Gotti! What the hell are you trying to pull?"

She stepped into the room, her tone fierce and authoritative. "Please forgive me, I'm sorry, ma'am," Gotti stammered, suddenly on the defensive.

"Sorry ain’t gonna cut it. Gotti, do you realize he is one of the Vinsmoke family?" she scolded, pointing an accusing finger at me. "If you lay a finger on him, my Bege's head is going to roll! It’s bad enough my Bege couldn’t bring the princess, but you will not impose threats on a Vinsmoke!" With that, she yanked Gotti away from my line of sight, clearly not willing to let him escalate things further.

I took a moment to process her words, and as I watched her, something about her looked familiar.

The door closed, leaving me with a moment of peace as I blew out the smoke from my cigarette, the tension still thick in the air.

"Big Mom is going to kill me for sure!" Caesar whined from his cage, his voice trembling with anxiety. "None of this is fair! You're a Vinsmoke, and that princess is marrying that Vinsmoke, so you both get star treatment, and I get the giantine!"

I ignored him, my thoughts drifting back to Y/N. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, but I was determined. I wouldn't let them dictate my life, nor would I let them take Y/N away from me. The fight was just beginning.

Y/N POV…

I wiped the sweat from my brow, the sweltering heat making it hard to focus. Nami and I had switched outfits to survive this unbearable temperature. Nami opted for a white tank top and blue ruffled skirt, while I followed suit, wearing a white cropped tank with a few buttons undone and a blue mini ruffled skirt with open-toed heels. It didn’t help that we were stranded without Sanji and with nothing to eat.

"Alright, I was wrong... I'm gonna die after all," Luffy groaned dramatically, trying to catch something in the water. "It’s so hot, I might melt before I starve. I want Sanji back on this ship!" He complained, flailing about as the rest of the crew—Chopper, Brook, and Pedro—worked to catch something edible.

"Ugh, I’m hungry, it’s hot, and I’m tired," Carrot whined, lying across Nami and me in the shade. We were all feeling the exhaustion.

"How much longer will it take?" I muttered, feeling my arms turning to jelly as the sun continued to beat down on us.

"I know it’s hot, but someone please catch something while the sun’s still out," Nami pleaded weakly, echoing my fatigue.

"Go team food..." Carrot groaned from her position beside us.

Suddenly, Pedro called out. "Luffy! Pull quick!" Luffy reeled in a giant fish, causing us all to stare at the catch, momentarily hopeful—until we saw its strange, purple skin.

"Uh… why is the skin purple?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

"Yeah, that color might be a bad sign," Chopper said hesitantly.

"It could be poisonous," Nami suggested, eyeing the fish warily.

"If it’s a fish, then it’s food! You don’t know what you’re talking about!" Luffy insisted, delirious from hunger, as he began cutting into the fish’s skin.

Chopper rushed to Sanji’s locker, pulling out a cookbook, flipping through it frantically. "Let me see if Sanji has something on this type of fish."

A few moments later, Chopper returned, his eyes wide with alarm. "The skin is poisonous! You can eat the fish, but not the skin!"

We all turned to look at Luffy, who was chewing happily on the purple flesh. "The skin’s so good," Luffy said with a grin, offering me some. "Here, Y/N, you should try some too!"

"Hard pass, Captain," I said, shaking my head firmly.

"Wait, what? Poisonous? Oh no," Luffy groaned, but then he quickly shook his head. "I feel great. Maybe it’s not poisonous after all."

"Sanji’s notes say once you peel the skin, the rest of the fish is safe to eat," Chopper read from the book, sounding relieved.

"Alright, peel the skin, and I’ll cook it up!" Luffy announced, ready to spring into action. But Nami quickly smacked him on the head, reminding him that one kitchen fire was enough.

"You sit here and don’t do anything crazy!" Nami said sternly. "Y/N and I will cook the fish."

I peeled off the skin while Nami followed Sanji’s recipe to the letter, the kitchen filling with the mouthwatering aroma of the fish cooking. "That smells amazing, Nami," I complimented as we plated the food.

Minutes later, we brought out the plates, handing them out to the crew. Everyone dug in with tears in their eyes, relieved to have a decent meal at last.

"It’s so good!" Carrot cried, her energy coming back instantly.

"Chopper, eat something before you pass out," Nami urged, handing him a plate.

But despite the momentary relief, Chopper looked panicked. "Luffy’s doing really bad. I’m afraid he’s going to die!"

"I already used up all our antidotes," Chopper continued, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Oh no," I gasped, feeling the gravity of the situation settle in. "We need to find an island, Nami!"

"Unfortunately for your captain, we won’t be able to get to land for medicine," Pekoms said as he removed his bandages, his tone grim. "We’re about to hit Big Mom’s territory."

Our jaws dropped in shock.

"Black Leg Sanji has probably reached Whole Cake Island by now," Pekoms continued. "No matter what, don’t lower your guard."

Pedro moved to keep watch, and the rest of us tensed up. "At the first island we dock at, we’ll find an antidote for Luffy," Pekoms reassured.

Just then, I noticed something unusual. "Why is it snowing?" I asked, squinting at the sky.

"That’s not snow—it’s cotton candy rain," Nami said, her voice filled with disbelief. Cotton candy began falling gently from the sky, landing in my hand.

"We’ve entered Mama’s territory," Pekoms stated darkly.

"I see something!" Pedro called out. "It’s a ship, coming right for us."

"It’s one of Mama’s tart ships!" Pekoms warned us. "You guys, hide!"

As we scrambled to hide, Chopper worked to slow the effects of the poison spreading through Luffy’s body. "This is bad," he whispered.

"Do you see anything?" I asked in a hushed voice, squinting at the ship.

"Is that a transponder snail?" Nami asked as we peered out cautiously.

"It’s not Big Mom’s ship," she said, sounding confused as we stepped out from our hiding spots. The ship had an eerie presence.

"They call Germa 66 the warmongers," Nami explained, making me tense up. My heart skipped a beat.

"Isn’t that…?" I started to say, turning to Brook, who instinctively moved to shield me in case it was Ichiji.

Suddenly, we spotted someone on the ship with a familiar, curly eyebrow.

"Sanji!!!" Chopper cried, running toward the figure.

"Sanji?" I whispered, hope blooming in my chest. Could it really be him?

I grabbed my sword but quickly dropped it, my heart racing. I leapt forward, using all the momentum I had, and landed gracefully in front of the figure.

"Sanji!" I threw myself into him, wrapping my legs around his waist, hugging him with all my strength. My arms tightened around his neck as I buried my face into his shoulder. "Sanji, is it really you?" I sniffled, planting soft kisses along his neck.

"I have so much to tell you! Oh my goodness!" I said, holding onto him, relief and joy washing over me. But then, I clenched my fist and smacked the back of his head. "Why the hell would you say we were engaged?! We never even had that conversation!" I scolded, still clinging to him.

He tensed at first, his grip on me slightly different than what I remembered. But I brushed it off, my emotions clouding my judgment. "It’s okay, we can talk about that later," I said, loosening my grip.

But then, his hands tightened around me, the pressure becoming uncomfortable.

"Sanji… you’re kind of hurting me a bit," I said, squirming in his hold. Something felt wrong.

"Sanji… you’re kind of hurting me a bit," I said again, my voice firmer this time, but he didn’t release his grip. Instead, a dark laugh escaped his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. Something was definitely wrong.

"You can let me go now!" I demanded, but his grip only tightened. My patience snapped, and with a clenched right fist, I swung, punching him square in the face. His hold loosened just enough for me to leap backward, putting distance between us. As I caught my breath, my eyes locked on him—something was off. He wasn’t Sanji.

Before I could retreat back to the ship, he stood in front of me again, removing his hood with a smirk. My heart dropped.

"You're not Sanji," I whispered, my blades starting to hum with a white hue as I clenched my fists, electricity crackling through my right arm.

"Y/N!" Brook called from the distance, his voice filled with worry.

"Stay back, all of you!" I shouted to the crew, not taking my eyes off the imposter.

"Stop calling me Sanji!" he snapped. "You got the wrong guy. My name is Yonji," he said, his eyes scanning me from head to toe with a disgusting grin. "I gotta admit though, you're even better in person." His gaze shifted into heart-shaped eyes as he ogled me.

Disgust flooded through me as Yonji suddenly lunged forward, grabbing me by the left arm, yanking me closer. I struggled, trying to wrench myself free from his iron grip.

"Oh no, Y/N!" Nami gasped, watching in horror.

Yonji's grip tightened further as he sneered, "I don’t care if you’re my brother’s fiancée—you should’ve been mine from the start."

My heart raced, not out of fear but from pure anger. "I’m not anyone’s fiancée!" I yelled, and in one quick move, I sent an electrical current surging through my right hand, shocking him hard enough to make him release me. I leaped away, landing back on the ship just in time.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Carrot asked, rushing to my side.

"I’m fine, Carrot. Thank you," I said, catching my breath and standing back up. I turned toward Yonji, who had retreated to his ship, his eyes still filled with those disgusting heart shapes. His grin only widened.

"A feisty woman," he chuckled. "You’re so hot."

I clenched my jaw, anger boiling inside me. Just as I thought I was safe, Yonji extended his arm from his ship, grabbing me again, this time with even more force.

"Y/N!" Chopper cried as I struggled to break free. His grip was suffocating.

"Let me go!" I shouted, kicking my legs in vain as he pulled me closer.

"Why?" Yonji sneered, tightening his hold. "You liked me better when you thought I was Sanji. Why don’t you give me kiss, huh?"

"Wait, come back! Sanji!" Chopper yelled, his voice frantic.

"Ugh, I’m Yonji!" he growled, his annoyance flaring.

I had enough. Just as Yonji was about to pull me in closer, I lifted my right leg and landed a swift, powerful kick on his arm, forcing him to release me. I plummeted toward the water, but before I hit, I clenched my left hand and used the momentum to leap back into the air, landing safely on the ship once more.

I gasped for air, my heart pounding from the close call. "That was close..." I muttered, sheathing my blade back into its thigh holster.

"Oh no! Luffy!" Chopper suddenly cried out. "He’s developing a rash—he can’t fight it anymore!"

"Stay with us, Luffy!" Nami pleaded, kneeling beside him.

"Don’t give up, Captain!" I added, rushing over as I spotted my sword on the ground. I picked it up quickly, making my way back to Luffy.

"You must have some antidote!" Chopper yelled toward Yonji, his voice thick with desperation.

Yonji slid his glasses on, grinning arrogantly. "Sorry, guys, I’m not into the whole saving lives thing. But if you want that medicine, why don’t you come and take it from us? I mean, you are pirates, right?" His grin widened as he toyed with us.

Nami, fuming, clenched her fists. "He only has Sanji’s bad parts, none of the good ones! He’s just a playboy jerk!"

"That’s it," I muttered, fury burning through me. I clenched my left hand and, without hesitation, leaped into the air once more, my sword gripped tightly in my right hand. I was done with his games.

"Y/N, be careful!" Brook called out, his voice echoing behind me.

"Princess, can’t get enough of me, I see," Yonji teased, smirking as he moved to intercept me.

But I was ready. Pressing the red gem embedded in my sword, I expected the familiar blaze of red flames, but instead, a mix of red electricity and a vibrant blue hue surged from the blade. What is this? I thought, momentarily stunned. My sword had never done that before. The energy crackled around me, sharper, more powerful.

Just as Yonji reached out to grab me again, a female voice cut through the tension. "Yonji... Stop being so stingy, will you?" Before I could react, Yonji was sent flying into the air, crashing into the water below with a loud splash.

The sheer force of the kick had me blinking in shock. "That kick’s strength... it looked similar to mine," I muttered as I made my way back to our ship. I pressed the red gemstone on my sword once more, deactivating the energy, and placed the sword behind me.

"What is going on?" Nami asked, her voice filled with confusion.

Suddenly, the female who kicked Yonji out of the way gracefully landed on our ship. "Do forgive him. He’s rather heartless... a creep too, but never mind my little brother. I’ll set this straight." She flashed a charming smile, completely unbothered by Yonji’s embarrassing defeat.

"Creep is an understatement," I muttered under my breath, still glaring in the direction Yonji had been launched from.

"Little brother?" Nami echoed, her eyes widening as she looked at the mysterious woman who had just arrived.

"Are you related to Sanji?" Chopper asked, his curiosity piqued. "She’s got curly eyebrows too!" he exclaimed, connecting the dots.

"She’s lovely!" Brook said, hearts practically radiating from his eyes.

I couldn’t help but slap my forehead and shake my head at his antics. "Reiju!" Yonji yelled, now flying out of the water and into the air.

"He flies?" Chopper gasped, his eyes sparkling with amazement.

"Damn it! What were you thinking, humiliating me like that—and in front of the princess?!" Yonji was clearly furious, more bothered by his embarrassment than anything else.

"Baffoon! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Reiju scolded him, hands on her hips, clearly not taking his tantrum seriously.

"I wonder how he’s floating," Brook mused, observing Yonji's ability to stay airborne.

"Maybe it’s the same thing that King gave you, Y/N?" Nami suggested.

"Impossible," I responded, shaking my head. "I trained for two years to wield the power I have. It’s definitely not the same."

"Maybe it’s a Devil Fruit power?" Chopper guessed.

"It’s not like Sanji’s Skywalk or CP9’s technique either," Nami noted, trying to piece it together.

"Well, whatever it is, I just want him away from me," I muttered, turning my attention back to Luffy, who was still struggling.

"That’s because they didn’t acquire that skill through training," Pekoms chimed in, stepping forward. "It’s technology. They’re powerful, but the strength of Germa 66 is science-based. That’s why Big Mom wants them—she wants their technology."

"Does that mean I can fly with super shoes too?" Chopper asked, his excitement bubbling over.

"I don’t think that’s how it works, Chopper," I chuckled, despite the tension.

"Sanji’s family is amazing… I wonder why he never told us," Nami mused, her gaze lingering on Yonji and Reiju.

"Vinsmoke… the leaders of Germa 66," Brook said, his tone more somber now. "Pekoms, that name rings a bell. If I recall, Vinsmoke is the name of a royal family."

"Wait, like Vivi or Neptune’s family?" Chopper asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"So… they’re really famous?" I added, glancing up at Yonji, still floating above us with a smug grin on his face.

"That’s right. Their name is synonymous with evil. In fact, they were portrayed as villains in a comic strip," Pekoms explained, his voice carrying a note of warning.

I stood up from my position and sighed, running my hand through my hair, feeling Zoro’s bandana still securing it tightly. "Great… so my fiancée is not only an assassin, but he’s also evil."

The weight of everything felt like it was pressing down on me. How had I ended up in this mess?

Reiju laughed lightly, her composed demeanor masking any surprise at Brook’s bizarre request. “I’m impressed, you're quite the historian,” she remarked.

Brook, blushing despite his skeletal appearance, chuckled nervously. "Well, I have been alive for a long time... and dead as well," he said, taking off his hat and bowing. "You see, it’s not just a story. Even now, we are royalty. Germa is a land without soil. Although we own no territory, we are still given the right to join the Reverie, all the same," Reiju explained, her voice proud yet calm.

"I see," Brook said, still bowing. "May I see your royal panties, most honored lady?" he asked, this time falling to his knees in front of her.

Without missing a beat, Nami delivered a swift kick to the back of Brook's head. "Stop it!" she yelled, hands on her hips in frustration.

I shook my head at Brook’s antics but couldn't help smiling.

Reiju turned her attention to me. "As for you, Princess," she said with a warm smile, "It appears my brother is quite fond of you."

I rolled my eyes. "Which one?" I asked sarcastically, pointing at Yonji, who was still hovering nearby. "Because this guy over here seems to be rather fond of me too."

Reiju laughed again, this time a bit more warmly. "No, no, not Yonji. I’m talking about Ichiji. He hasn’t stopped talking about you since the moment he decided he wanted to marry you."

I crossed my arms, feeling defiant. "Yeah, well, the feeling isn’t mutual. I’m not interested in marriage—any marriage, for that matter," I said firmly.

Reiju’s smile didn’t falter. "The terms are already set, Princess. You will marry Ichiji."

I blinked, my mind racing. "What does he even want with me?" I asked, frustration creeping into my voice. "Out of all the women in the world, why me?"

Reiju’s eyes softened. "He never said. All he did was tell our father to arrange the marriage. And since Sanji’s wedding was already set, yours was arranged on the spot."

"Is that why my wanted poster suddenly says ‘Vinsmoke’?" I asked, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"Yes," she nodded, confirming my suspicions. "He wanted to ensure no one else would try to claim you. He's... quite a jealous man."

"Great," I muttered, my stomach churning. "And what about the ‘only alive’ part?" I pressed, interrogating her further.

Reiju tilted her head slightly. "He added that because, after watching you fight, he knew he wanted you by his side... alive."

I froze. "Wait... what do you mean, watched me fight? The only time my fight was broadcast was—"

The realization hit me hard, and I took a step back, my eyes widening. "No... It couldn’t be."

Reiju’s calm gaze held mine, and I could tell she wasn’t lying. Ichiji had been watching me, possibly for longer than I realized.

"Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking that from him," she said, making her way toward Luffy.

"Taking what?" Nami asked, confused.

Reiju knelt down in front of Luffy. "I’m going to guess he ate the skin of an Armor Fish from the Poison Sea," she said.

Chopper’s eyes widened. "Yeah, how’d you know?" he asked, bewildered.

"This poison has a rather unique set of components. He’s a glutton for eating it. Not even a giant could survive this," Reiju said matter-of-factly.

Chopper panicked, tears forming in his eyes. "What?! There’s nothing you can do?! I’ve failed! I’m the worst doctor in the world!"

Reiju, however, remained calm. "But this is good. You’re lucky, it’s the best kind of poison. Down the hatch," she said before locking lips with Luffy and beginning to extract the poison.

"Luffy is getting a smoochy!" Brook exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and excitement.

"Ahh, that’s so gross," Nami groaned, turning her head away.

"That’s so scandalous," Pekoms said, blushing.

I blinked rapidly, feeling like I was intruding on something personal. "I feel like I’m interrupting something," I muttered, covering my eyes but peeking every few seconds out of curiosity.

Chopper, still panicking, yelled, "Whoa! If you suck out that poison, you’ll die for sure!"

"Oh, I’m so jealous!" Brook wailed dramatically. "If only I could trade places with him, but alas... my lips are long gone! Yohoho!"

As Reiju continued to extract the poison, we all watched in shock as the rashes began to transfer from Luffy’s body to Reiju’s.

"What?!" we all yelled in unison.

Chopper examined Luffy. "There’s no more rash! It’s all gone!" he exclaimed.

Reiju stood up, unphased by the poison she had just absorbed. "I’ve never felt better. After all, I’m ‘Poison Pink,’" she said calmly, giving us all a faint smile.

Luffy finally came to, coughing a bit as he regained consciousness. "Whoa, what happened?!" he asked, looking around.

Carrot and Chopper began crying in relief.

"Wait, did I fall asleep while eating that giant fish? That skin part was really good. Do we have any more?!" Luffy asked, completely oblivious to how close he had come to dying.

Nami and I were both in tears, frustration and relief mixing together. "No!" we yelled in unison.

"You don’t remember? Not even the part where you almost died?!" Nami shouted, her voice rising.

Luffy blinked, then turned to Reiju, mistaking her for Sanji because of her curly eyebrow. "Sanji!" he said, grinning.

Chopper sighed. "That’s a woman, Luffy."

Luffy looked at her again. "Actually... you’re right," he admitted, scratching his head, confused but still Luffy.

“Luffy… she’s the person who just saved your life,” Brook pointed at Reiju with a skeletal finger.

Luffy, with his typical grin, turned to her. "Huh, thanks, lady!" he said, his carefree tone easing the tension for a moment.

I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. It felt like I was drowning in the weight of everything happening around me. But Luffy’s casualness, as usual, brought a strange comfort.

"I never knew Sanji had a big sister!" Luffy exclaimed, his grin growing wider.

"Yes, that’s right," Reiju nodded. "Sanji is a Vinsmoke like us."

My body tensed again, and Luffy caught it, his sharp eyes flicking to me, but he didn’t say anything. I tried to focus on what Reiju was saying.

"He was separated from us when he was young. Our father’s been searching for him for a while. When Sanji’s wanted poster began circulating two years ago, my father made a call to the government to prioritize catching him. But, well… they ended up catching a man named Duval by mistake,” Reiju said with a slight smirk.

“Sanji was not a fan of that whole mess,” Brook chimed in, causing me to stifle a laugh. The memory of Duval’s ridiculous face and the chaos that followed flashed in my mind. Even in the middle of all this madness, the absurdity of that situation was hard to forget.

“When your crew made a surprise comeback, the World Government shared the news with us,” Reiju continued. “My father then replaced Sanji’s wanted poster with ‘Only Alive’ and raised his bounty to make sure he’d come back to us.”

Nami crossed her arms, nodding. "So that’s why we knew something was off with his bounty, but we couldn’t figure out the reason."

Luffy’s focus sharpened. "Okay, so where is Sanji right now?" he asked, the easygoing air disappearing for a moment as concern for his crewmate replaced it.

Reiju sighed. "I can’t say for sure. He could be with Big Mom or with our father. We thought we might catch him along the way, but it seems we were too late."

She turned toward me, her eyes softening, but her words carried a weight I wasn’t ready to deal with. “At least I got to see the woman who’s going to be marrying my other brother,” she said, her gaze lingering on me.

I clenched my fists, every fiber of my being resisting that statement. But Reiju smiled knowingly. "He’ll be thrilled when I tell him you’ve arrived."

The thought of being married off to Ichiji—someone I’d never even met—made my stomach churn. My future, my choices, were being ripped out from under me, and no matter how much I wanted to fight it, the Vinsmoke family wasn’t about to give me a choice.

I shot Reiju a look of defiance. “I’m not marrying him, or anyone for that matter,” I said coldly.

Reiju’s expression didn’t change, as if she expected that response. "We’ll see," she said calmly, almost too calmly.

"But we will see Sanji at the tea party along with Ichiji’s fiancée, that’s the important part," Reiju said, her voice steady as she looked at me. The weight of her words pressed on my chest, reminding me of the looming wedding, the plans that were being made without my consent. I tried to stay calm, but my mind was spinning.

"It won’t be long now," Reiju added, her gaze shifting to Luffy. "And I even got to meet you. You took care of Sanji, Strawhat, for that, I am grateful."

Reiju was about to leave when Luffy shot up from where he sat, fire in his eyes. "Sanji’s sister!" he called out. "Thanks for saving my life for real, but still, we are taking Sanji back and stopping Y/N’s wedding. They’re my crewmates and friends!"

I couldn’t help but feel the strength behind his words. He was standing up for me, for Sanji, for all of us. Luffy’s loyalty, that unshakable determination, reminded me that I wasn’t alone in this. No matter how daunting things seemed, we would fight this together.

Reiju turned back around, her eyes scanning us—each one of us standing with defiance on our faces. We were ready to fight for what mattered most.

"I won’t give up on them," Luffy declared with conviction, his voice like a solid anchor pulling us all together.

Before I could dwell on those feelings, Yonji’s loud voice cut through the tension. "Hey, you! You’re Pekoms from the Big Mom Pirates. Just what the hell are you doing hanging out with the Strawhats?"

Pekoms stood firm, his expression unyielding. "I have my reasons, and that’s all I gotta say. Things might be different after these wedding ceremonies, but for now, you’re just some random guy."

Reiju glanced at him and nodded. "Can’t argue with that," she said, then leaped into the air, landing gracefully beside Yonji. We watched, a mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling among us.

"Raise the anchor! Let’s move!" Yonji commanded, his voice booming. He turned his gaze from his subordinates back to me, and for a heartbeat, our eyes locked. I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of discomfort under his intense stare, like he was weighing something in his mind.

As Reiju and Yonji headed off in another direction, I felt a rush of determination. We couldn’t let them dictate our fate.

"Okay, we better get moving," Nami said, breaking the tension. As we began to set sail, I sank into my thoughts, finally sitting down and closing my eyes for a moment.

Chopper began to examine Luffy, who was looking worse for wear, and the relentless ringing of the transponder snail filled the air.

"Geez, shut up!" Luffy and I exclaimed in unison, irritation bubbling up. It felt good to share the moment of frustration, a reminder that we were still on the same side.

"It’s a warning signal; it won’t stop even if you pick it up," Pekoms explained, his tone calm and collected.

"Well, that’s annoying," I huffed, crossing my arms.

"Poison made me hungry," Luffy grumbled, the usual sparkle in his eyes dimmed but not extinguished.

"We are still short on food supplies," Nami reminded us, her expression serious.

Pekoms continued, "You’re on one of Mama’s 34 islands. Whole Cake is in the center, and each island has a minister that runs the show. It’s Totoland."

Pedro piped up then. "Another ship is heading toward us."

"If they find you, it’ll be a whole pain in the ass," Pekoms warned, urgency in his voice. Without hesitation, we all dashed back to our hiding spot, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Once we docked, we stayed hidden until Pekoms finally gave us the signal that it was safe.

"Where are Luffy and Chopper?" Pedro asked, scanning the area with concern.

I couldn’t help but smile at the situation. "We should have expected this, except I’m not with them this time," I said, a playful glint in my eyes.

"They bought my cover story, but we better not stay long," Pekoms urged us, urgency lacing his voice. "So do what you gotta do, then scram! We are in a rush anyway."

He handed out disguises, and as I slipped mine on, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Nami and Carrot stepped out first. Nami looked stunning in a white and red overall short dress, the pink bow at her waist adding a touch of charm. Carrot twirled into view in a playful green short dress that suited her lively spirit perfectly.

And then it was my turn. I stepped out, and my heart sank as I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection. I was wearing a white short dress with sleeves that fell off my shoulders, and the sweetheart neckline accentuated my chest. Rhinestones adorned the neckline, glistening in the light, while the ties at the back created the illusion of an hourglass figure. The bottom flared out gracefully, and my silver heels clicked softly against the floor. My hair was half up, half down, with a few strands framing my face.

Overall, I looked like I was heading to a wedding reception.

"Now why the hell am I wearing a white dress?!" I exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and frustration flooding my voice. The last thing I needed was to draw more attention to myself, especially dressed like this.

Nami chuckled, clearly amused by my predicament. "You look great! Just go with it," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Easy for you to say!" I shot back, though I couldn’t help but smirk.

"You look gorgeous, Y/N!" Carrot said, her eyes lighting up as she took in my ensemble.

"Thank you, Carrot," I replied, smiling at her enthusiasm, even though I felt a bit out of place. The dress was beautiful, but I wasn’t used to wearing something so formal, and the feeling of it clinging to me was a constant reminder of the situation we were in.

Suddenly, a loud voice echoed from behind. "There’s our young bride!" Brook called out, his usual cheerfulness somehow both amusing and alarming.

"Brook, what are you...?" I started to ask, but he didn’t let me finish.

"Ohh, I knew this day would come!" he exclaimed, looking as though he was about to break into a song at any moment.

"Brook, I’m not—" I protested, trying to cut through his joyful delusions.

"I told you, you’d make a blushing bride!" he continued, tears flowing from his eye sockets, each drop a testament to his excitement and unwavering optimism.

"Brook, I’m not getting married!" I insisted, my voice rising in exasperation. I could feel my cheeks heat up, and I desperately wanted to hide.

"Could have fooled me! You still look fantastic, yohooo!" he replied, spinning around as if to emphasize my supposed wedding attire.

I shook my head, laughing despite my embarrassment. "Thanks, I guess?" I said, trying to take it all in stride. The situation was bizarre, yet Brook's antics somehow made it easier to breathe amidst the chaos we were facing.

Pekoms then coughed, bringing us all back to reality. "It’s going to take a whole day to get to Whole Cake Island, so be sure to get all you need, especially food."

"Oki dokie!" Carrot yelled, her enthusiasm infectious as she bounced on her heels.

I went to grab my sword, trying to figure out how I could carry it along with my thigh halter and blades. "Hey, Nami, do you have a bag big enough to hold my essentials?" I asked, hoping she had something suitable.

She nodded and made her way to find it. When she returned, she handed me a small but discreet bag. I placed the thigh halter and blades inside, then focused on my sword. "Hmm, what if I pressed..." I mused, pressing all three buttons on the hilt. To my surprise, the sword began to shrink. "Whoa! I didn’t know it could do that!" I exclaimed, marveling at the magical functionality as I placed it into the bag.

I also took off Zoro’s bandana, placing it inside the bag as well.

"How did you fit that giant sword in there?!" Nami asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"I know that moving the hilt to the right creates a shield, but I didn’t know pressing all three gems would make it shrink. King really thought of everything," I said, smiling as I grabbed the strap and placed it over my shoulder.

Carrot was watching everyone in the town, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It’s a land where every race can live without discrimination," Pekoms explained, his tone proud.

He went on to tell us the rules about eating chocolate since you could eat anything in Chocolat town. Suddenly, Brook piped up, "So… are the panties made of chocolate as well?"

"Of course they are!" Pekoms replied, barely able to contain his laughter.

Brook began to fantasize, his eyes glazing over with ridiculous thoughts until Nami sent a punch right to his head. "Just get the food and go!" Pekoms ordered, shaking his head.

"Alright, we’re ready!" I said, feeling the adrenaline start to pump through my veins.

"Oh my! Somebody ate the whole café!" yelled a voice from afar.

"There they are!" Nami exclaimed, pointing in the direction where Luffy’s unmistakable energy was.

We began to run toward Luffy, and I could hear Carrot urging, "Come on, guys, we gotta go faster!"

"We are trying too!" we all shouted in unison, pushing ourselves to keep up with the energy of the moment.

We caught up to Pedro and Brook, but we halted when we saw something unusual coming down from above.

"What the heck?" Nami exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Is that a carpet singing?" I said, squinting up at the bizarre sight.

"Not the owner of the café," Brook added, his curiosity piqued. We watched as the café owner covered for both Luffy and Chopper.

"What did she save them for?" Carrot wondered aloud.

"Maybe she’s just really nice," Nami suggested, though I felt a nagging hesitation about Luffy and Chopper’s savior.

"No one's that nice," I said, crossing my arms, my instincts warning me.

"We sure got lucky," Pedro chimed in, lighting his cigarette with a spark of electricity from his fingers.

"You gotta teach me that trick, Pedro," I said in awe.

He chuckled, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You got it."

"Captain Pedro?!" yelled someone from behind us. We all turned, surprised.

"It really is you! What a surprise! It’s been a while," the familiar voice exclaimed.

Pedro quickly shushed the mink. "I'm sightseeing; don’t tell anyone," he said as we moved forward.

"Is something wrong, Pedro?" I asked, noticing a hint of tension as we made our way toward Luffy, Chopper, and the café owner's chocolate building.

We all sat down at a table while Luffy and Chopper continued to eat the walls, the sight both hilarious and alarming. As I settled into my chair, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about the café owner.

"Can you cool it for a second?" Nami said, her brows furrowed as she eyed Luffy and Chopper. "You were stuffed a second ago; where’d all that food go?"

"You gotta try this, Y/N! I know you're going to love it!" Luffy exclaimed, handing me a piece of chocolate. He passed one to Brook and Nami as well.

I looked at the piece and politely declined. "Sorry, Luffy, I’m not a sweets kind of person, but I’m sure it’s really delicious."

"Oh well, more for me!" he shrugged, diving back into the feast.

Brook and Nami took bites of theirs and simultaneously shouted, "It's so good!"

Time passed, and Luffy turned to Pudding, the café owner. "Thanks for saving me back there!"

"Oh no, don’t thank me; I should be the one thanking you," she replied in a sweet voice that made my skin crawl.

"This girl is acting," I thought, crossing my arms defensively.

"How is this woman real? She’s too sweet!" Brook exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

"I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to get going," Nami interjected, trying to steer the conversation.

Pudding then offered us tea, but I decided to stand and take a walk around.

"Where are you going?" Nami asked, her tone concerned.

I turned to her, smiling reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll be right back," I said as I headed out the door.

Once outside, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. "I just know this ‘Pudding’ isn’t being truthful," I murmured to myself. "She’s hiding something, and I’m going to find out."

I took in the sights around me—the whole city was made of chocolate. "Best be careful; don’t want to dirty my outfit," I thought, holding the straps of my bag tightly, which contained my blades and sword, ensuring they stayed secure as I navigated through the sweet chaos of the city.

To my right, I noticed a jewelry store and chuckled, shaking my head. "Chocolate jewels? Now this I gotta see." I made my way inside, intrigued by the assortment on display.

"Now isn’t this creative," I thought, admiring the craftsmanship. My eyes landed on the rings, sparkling under the shop lights.

"Find something of interest?" the shop owner asked, his voice eager.

"At the moment, I'm just looking, but I will definitely let you know if I find something," I replied, about to walk away when he called me back.

"Miss! Would you please come for a moment? I must show you something!" he insisted, guiding me back to the rings.

"This ring is one of our finest collections—the rarest of rare," the owner proclaimed, presenting a stunning gold band adorned with diamonds and a captivating red ruby at its center.

"My, it's quite pretty," I said, genuinely impressed.

"Yes, it is... Would you like to try it on?" the owner offered, a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

I laughed, shaking my head. "As long as it’s not made of chocolate, I'll try it."

He slipped the ring onto my ring finger. "A perfect fit!" he declared, clasping his hands together in delight.

"So it appears," I muttered, returning the ring back. "Thank you for your time, but I must be on my way."

The owner tried to stop me once more, but I was already out the door, eager to continue my exploration.

As I strolled through the streets, taking in everything around me, I suddenly lost my footing. Just as I was about to trip into a chocolate fountain, a strong arm pulled me back, spinning me around until I landed against a hard chest.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

"Yes, I’m fine... thank y..." I started, taking in his features. He wore a white long-sleeve dress shirt, the fabric a sleek v-neck that revealed a hint of his chest, paired with dress pants. His vibrant red hair caught the light, and his glasses had a red tint that matched perfectly.

"Wow, this guy must really like red," I thought, taking a step back to create some distance.

"You gotta be careful; a pretty girl like you would have been drenched in chocolate," he said, his compliment making me smile and blush slightly.

"You're right; we wouldn’t want that now, would we?" I replied, laughing. The man chuckled as well.

"Well, I gotta get back to the café. Thank you for saving me," I said just as I was about to turn when he grabbed my wrist, halting me.

"Wait?!" he said, his grip rather strong. "Why don’t I walk you to the café? That way you don’t trip on any more chocolate," he suggested, chuckling.

I pulled my wrist back and replied, "If you want." We continued to stroll through Chocolat town in comfortable silence. I noticed some of the shopkeepers trembling in fear, which made me wonder why.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, and I turned to look at him, noticing more of his features—his nose was delicate, his chin chiseled, and his arms looked buff without making his dress shirt tight.

I nodded with a smile. "Everything is just fine," I assured him, feeling a small blush creep onto my cheeks. I noticed that he also blushed slightly, the color deepening in his cheeks as he glanced away for a moment.

"Well, this is it," I said as we approached the café. "Oh, I forgot one thing!" I exclaimed, making my way down the steps. I turned back to him and said, "Thank you for walking with me," as I placed a gentle peck on his cheek.

As I made my way back inside, I didn’t hear him say softly, "No problem, fiancee"

31 notes · View notes

anonymousangstmonster · 1 year ago

Text

Prompt #31

Ever since Maddie fatally injured Phantom and woke up the next morning with her sons cold corpse in her arms, she’s been grieving, never able to really move on.

The bloody note he left on his bed read:

“Mom, Dad I’m Phantom I was zapped in the portal Jazz can explain the science Don’t blame yourselves If the police are reading this, don’t lock them up, they didn’t know, I kept it from them Please don’t cremate or cut open my body Bury me in my favorite NASA hoodie I love you Goodbye

-Danny”

She couldn’t help but blame herself, she’s the one who killed him. He was too pure and forgiving for this world, asking his murderer not to blame herself, unfortunately the universe agreed.

Jazz moved away for college as soon as she turned eighteen, clearly she blamed Maddie, and Maddie couldn’t blame her for it.

She was pregnant again, with a baby boy they would call Michael, someone to carry on the Fenton name now that their first son was dead, not that Danny could ever be replaced.

She visited his grave every month to leave flowers and apologize and just tell him what was going on around town. On his birthday every year she and Jack would come and carve another few constellations on his tombstone, soon they’d run out of room and have to start putting them on the Phantom memorial the townspeople built right behind the headstone.

One day Maddie brought a little model spaceship and tell him she was sorry she ruined his chances of one day becoming an astronaut like he always dreamed. She came back the next day to find a sticky-note saying: “I went to space”

As soon as Michael was old enough to take care of himself Maddie committed suicide and was buried in the empty spot right next to where her sons body lay in the ground.

Danny couldn’t just leave, he still had a town to protect!

So he stayed, barely a weak spirit, his former enemies were plagued by nightmares and visions of Phantom every time they wandered into his old territory.

Most of the time he simply hung out in the cemetery where his name was carved in stone, listening to his mother talk to him and tell him stories. It was nice to be visited so often, but he couldn’t stand that she wasn’t respecting his last wishes of forgiving herself.

When he heard her say that she was the reason he never got to be an astronaut, he had to reassure her, so he left a sticky-note with all the strength he could muster.

When Maddie killed herself Danny was at the funeral, invisible, but it was the first time he saw Jazz since his. Michael took up the task of adding a new constellation to Phantom’s memorial stone every year, and Danny was proud to watch his little brother grow up, even if he could never really meet him.

I made myself cry coming up with this.

This is more like a script than a prompt.

82 notes · View notes

sleepyfan-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Malachai In the Snow

Author’s Note: This is the fourth part of a mini-arc in which Cedric will be (trying) to patch up injured Primaris Black Templars as they appear on Ancient and Holy Terra! For other adventures click here. First. Previous. Next. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow Hura and Zariel! And thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for allowing me to borrow Pyrus!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: blood, injuries, character death, ask me to tag something if I’ve missed it/it bothers you

Summary: Jophiel comes to Cedric, with a prophecy of a dying brother on his lips.

“Cedric… Cedric I need you to wake up!” Jophiel called out as he shook his Brother-Cousin awake.

The young Black Templar grumbled a little wordlessly as he yawned and stared blearily at Jophiel “What is it? It’s really late…” He checked the clock, which read just past one in the morning. The Blood Angel was sniffling a little and shaking. Cedric frowned and pulled him in, hugging him tightly “Did you have a nightmare?”

“I… Sort of. Not really, because it’s a vision! One of the clearest I’ve had in a while.” Jophiel answered, shaking his head a little before burying his face in one of Cedric’s shoulders. He allowed himself a moment to compose himself, feeling safe in the Apothecary’s embrace.

“... Do you want to talk to me about it? Or should I get one of the older librarians, to help you try and figure out what the vision meant? From what you’ve told me, not all of the visions you have are straight forward, nor easily understood.” Cedric asked, reaching up and starting to run a hand through Jophi’s long blonde hair.

“That wasn’t the case for this one. I’m… I’m pretty sure I know what this one means.” Jophiel murmured, leaning more into Cedric. “Another Primaris Black Templar is going to be coming to Holy Terra soon. Snow was falling on his body, and his blood was staining the white. He was all alone as he died, beside a lake that had a view of a mountain, and there were trees everywhere.”

There were thousands of lakes across Holy Terra at this point in time, many of them having forests and mountains nearby, with snowfall being possible. “I… I see. Do you have any idea where on Ancient Terra he might show up? Or when specifically?”

“Remember that lake we found last week, while we were hiking through the woods? I… I’m pretty sure it’s that one, and I did check before waking you up. It gets cold enough in the winters here to snow on the valley floor.” Jophiel answered, voice shaking a little “But I know that I should probably report this vision to the older Librarians. They’ll be able to help me figure out better when and where this incoming brother is likely to land… And they have the pull to ensure that he’ll be found before he dies.”

Cedric’s first reaction is to try and convince Jophiel to stay quiet. That between the six of them they should be able to find whoever was near the edge of life and death before he died… But Terra was a large planet, and if their silence on this matter killed this Brother… His death would be on Cedric’s hands. “... If there are older librarians who you feel that you can trust with this vision… I trust you to spread this warning to those who need to know.”

Jophiel nods, frowning a little “I… There are a couple. And since, in my vision, he’s not got his full armor, it’s not like I need to tell them that this nearly-dead Brother is a Primaris Marine, necessarily. I.. I should be able to keep that part to myself. I think.”

Cedric nodded, leaning into Jophiel a little more “Alright. Do you feel the vision is urgent enough to wake them now?”

“Unless a freak snowstorm rolls in tomorrow, I don’t think so. It’s still early autumn, after all…” Jophiel murmured, yawning a little “It’s too far to get to my room… M’sleeeepy Ced!”

Cedric smiled a little, chuckling a little “Do you want to finish sleeping with me, then?” He knew how much visions took it out of Jophiel, especially on Ancient Terra, where the Warp was much more difficult to reach and use.

“Yes please…” Jophiel yawned, closing his eyes and promptly falling asleep.

Cedric smiled again, making sure that both of them could sleep relatively comfortably before falling himself to sleep as well.

Weeks later found Cedric as part of a patrol of Imperial Fists and Salamanders, as the group made their way to the lake mentioned in Jophiel’s vision. The weather forecast was predicting heavy snowfall, and it was apparently very cold to those who were warm-adapted. Cedric found the cooler temperatures invigorating and refreshing. There was a light breeze that rustled the ever-green pine and fir trees that they were walking between, and the late afternoon sun was being swallowed by dark clouds that promised heavy precipitation.

Pyrus was walking alongside next to Cedric, as his warband was visiting the base and nudged him a little “So, any ideas as to which time period this injured Brother might be coming from? Or chapter and/or legion?”

Cedric could answer those questions, from what Jophiel had told him. But should he? Jophiel had been as vague on the specifics of the marine in question apart from the dire state of his injuries and how under-equipped he was for the cold and snowy weather. “Jophie said that the armor he had left was a dark color, nearly black, where it wasn’t bloody or covered in snow.”

Pyrus hummed, nodding thoughtfully “Ah… That doesn’t narrow it down. Lots of chapters have darkly colored armor. Hopefully he reacts well to us, if he’s awake enough to realize we’re there. If he’s a Black Legionnaire we’re gonna have to use the tranq gun on him so he won’t try to murder us while mostly dead. Stubborn bastards.”

Snow began to fall from the sky, the whispery quality of the snowflakes falling on the ground and the tree branches were distracting. Watching the ground quickly become covered in snow where the trees did not provide shelter, or where the wind blew the frozen water. Cedric silently wished he could enjoy watching the snowfall, but he had a Brother to try and save. He hummed noncommittally. Part of him really did want to tell Pyrus what he knew of the injured Primaris marine who they were hopefully going to find in time, but doing so would reveal that Jophiel had deliberately withheld information and Cedric wasn’t about to throw him under the bus. Especially when he was the one to ask Jophiel to withhold that information. “Hopefully they will react well, or at least neutrally to our presence.”

“... Are you alright, Cedric? You seem a bit… Distracted?” Pyrus asked, squinting at him, concerned.

The young apothecary successfully suppressed his desire to fidget with his hands - which was a dead-giveaway for the uncertainty and worry running through his body and making his hearts race “I’m concerned for whoever we may find today. We marines are pretty tough, it takes a lot to-”

The direction of the winds shifted as Cedric was speaking, cutting him off as it brought with it the sharp, metallic scent of fresh blood.

All six of the marines on patrol stopped in their tracks, including Cedric himself, turning towards the source of the smell.

Cedric was the first to start moving, running as fast as the dense underbrush and trees would allow him, dodging around large patches of underbrush and jumping over and across the occasional fallen log or half-rotted tree stump.

It took both an eternity and no time at all for Cedric to find the badly injured Primaris marine. The other was leaning against the base of a tree, gold-flecked blue eyes focused on the partially frozen lake. He looked in Cedric’s direction as the apothecary reached over.

He smiled a little and rasped out “Good… Evening? Cedric. Is this the peaceful embrace of the Emperor? It’s… Beautiful.” Malachai asked, before turning partially and coughing, splattering the snow with his blood, vivid and dark against the white substance, even as the heat of his blood began to melt it. “Wish I hurt less, though.”

“Malachai, you aren’t dead, not yet. Where we are is a… Complicated situation. But stay still, I have a first aid kit, which will help me stabilize you. Then, with help, I can get you to a place where you can be properly treated.” Cedric answered, dropping down onto his knees next to his badly beaten brother, opening the kit and starting to clean and bandage his wounds.

Malachai chuckled and then coughed violently, his whole body spasming a little before he reached up with broken fingers to try and push Cedric away with what little remained of his strength “You shouldn’t. The fucker beat me with the intention of making me one of his grisly reminders for the rest of us.”

“He has no power here. Not really.” Cedric half-lied. While it was true that Petras wasn’t in control of Ancient Terra, he held a distressing amount of sway amongst certain Crusades of Black Templars, and he really didn’t want to find out what his reaction would be, should he discover that several of the marines he’d killed were on Ancient Terra, alive and aware of the depths of the chaplain’s cruelty.

“... Don’t. Don’t lie to me, Cedric.” Malachai gently scolded him, reaching up and squeezing one of Cedric’s shoulders, leaving bloody fingerprints on his jacket. “More astartes are coming. I don’t want you to be punished for trying to help me.”

“Those are a patrolf of Salamanders and Imperial Fists. They won’t punish me for trying to help you. The entire reason why I’m in this forest is to find and try and save you, Malachai. Stop resisting and let me help you!” Cedric hissed, hating the way that his eyes stung badly enough to blur his vision as tears streamed down his face. He continued to do his best to patch up the stubborn bastard wheezing at him “Things are different here. I haven’t been ordered to watch you die this time. So I’m not going to, if I can at all help it.”

Pyrus came barrelling into the clearing, followed closely by the rest of the mixed squad of Imperial Fists and Salamanders, their armor patterns showing that they were from multiple different time periods of the Imperium. The Salamander knelt down on the other side of Malachai and asked “What should I do to help?”

“Keep him still for me, please? He’s resisting treatment because of when he was brought to Holy Terra from.” Cedric instructed Pyrus.

“We… We’re on Terra? How is that… How is that possible?” Malachai wheezed, a stunned expression on his face.

“Short answer? Warp shenanigans. If you want the long answer, such as we’ve figured out, you’ve got to live to learn it.” Pyrus answered with an attempt at a reassuring smile on his face. “Are you a Black Templar, like Cedric?”

“Yes, I am.” Malachai rasped out. He nodded a little, before a whimper of pain left him. “I can’t. Feel my legs. The worst injury I got was on my back.” He paused for several seconds, closing his eyes and taking in several steadying breaths before continuing “Just above where the armor I was allowed to keep… I heard the snap of bone and a lot of pain before… Before everything went dark and I woke up here. I’ve tried moving my legs and… Couldn’t manage it.”

“... Fuck that’s right. I remember now. He’d snapped your spinal cord in three places. I’m… I’m surprised that you’re breathing as well as you are, given the locations of the breaks.” Cedric murmured before he could stop himself “We’re going to need to immobilize his neck and spine as much as we can, to avoid further damage. Would two of you please set up the stretcher, while everyone else helps me move Malachai? Once the stretcher is ready will need to be careful to move him at the same time, so I will provide a count down from three to one. When I say now after, we move him at the same time. Any questions?”

“Me, I have one. Why are you bothering? The bastard has decided that my mouthy bastard ways mean that I have to die. Why refuse him? I hurt sooo much where I’m not numb.” Malachai huffed, squinting up at Cedric.

“Mal, I mean this with all the love and care in my hearts, shut up. You’re being rescued and treated whether you like it or not. The one who did this to you has no power in the base we’re bringing to you, and it’s my job to keep you alive and as intact as I can.” Cedric growled at the other, eyes flashing in irritation and worry.

Malachai laughed until he started coughing, his body spasming with each cough. “Yeah, yeah. I know. M’ sorry, though. I don’t think I can… Hold on much longer. S’ cold and breathing hurts.”

“Why does it look like someone kicked his ribs with armored boots until they broke?” Pyrus asked, a frown on his face. “Among other things?”

“Because he was kicked by someone’s ceramite-clad boots until his bones broke. Now is really not the time for these sorts of questions Pyrus. Help me put this splint around his chest so that when we move him it doesn’t fuck up his back or lungs with the wandering bone shards more than they already have.” Cedric answered, having done his best to shut down his emotions and clinically look at the situation. “Ignis, Ralos, Sven, Pyrus I need you to lift his torso up several inches so I can get this splint under him on the count of three. Is everyone in position?”

“Ready.” Called out Ralos, the Imperial Fist sounded calm through his vox communicator.

“Ready.” Calls out Sven and Ignis, though both seemed concerned.

“Alright, alright. I’m in position, and ready for the count off.” Pyrus grumbled, moving so that he was in a useful spot.

“Three, two, one, up!” Cedric called out. The four marines were able to easily lift the injured Primaris at the same time and the apothecary applied the splint as quickly as he could.

Olik and Char were ready with the stretcher, so Cedric directed the four marines who were holding onto Malachai to pivot slightly as the stretcher was maneuvered so it was directly underneath the badly injured Primaris Marine and he was lowered back onto the stretcher.

Cedric aided in carrying Malachai to the nearby field surgery tent that had been set up, as the Librarians had divined that Malachi would die, if he were to be taken all the way back to the nearest hospital, even in one of the emergency flying vehicles. Cedric very much wanted to be part of the team who worked on trying to put Malachai back together but his hands were shaking too much from the adrenaline and guilt running through him.

It had not taken long for them to get to the field surgery tent. Cedric helped heave Malachai onto the surgical table.

The other Primaris marine shifted uncomfortably as several Imperial Fist Apothecaries approached him. “Cedric… What’s going on?”

“These Apothecaries are going to put you back together. I’m-” Cedric started before being cut off by Apothecary Melinth.

“You are going to be waiting outside of the tent, Cedric. You are too close to this patient to be working on them during such a delicate and risky procedures. Besides, I can see the way that your hands are shaking. Do you wish to risk his life?” The Imperial Fist asked bluntly.

Cedric swallowed hard and flinched back, eyes downward cast “No sir, I don’t.”

“Good lad. Leave the immediate area, while we sterilize the field and get to work. You’ve done well. We’ll do what we can for him.” Melinth ordered.

Malachai made a pained sound, one hand reaching out for Cedric “Wait… Please sir…”

Cedric hesitated before grabbing Malachai’s hand, gently squeezing it with both of his “Do what they tell you, alright? I’ll be right outside, waiting for you, once you’re out of surgery.”

“... You better be.” Malachai grumbled, managing to send a half-smile up at his brother.

“I will.” Cedric promised before letting go of Malachai’s hand, gently setting it back on the table and leaving the tent, his whole body shaking at the intensity of emotions running through him. He sat down heavily on a fallen log less than twenty-feet from the entrance of the surgical tent, listening to the shallow breathing and uneven stutter of Malachai’s hearts beating.

“Hey… Cedric… I couldn’t help but notice that you knew exactly how your fellow Black Templar had gotten injured. While I was running over, I caught something about a punishment… Do you… Do you want to talk to me about it?” Pyrus asked as he sat down next to Cedric, having appeared out of nowhere.

Cedric lost concentration on listening to Malachai’s. “... I’d really rather not.” The temptation to curl into a ball of self-loathing and recrimination was strong, but he was already being eyeballed by several firstborn marines as it was.

Pyrus, instead of taking the unsubtle hint to leave the topic alone, scooted closer to Cedric. The Salamander was pressed against Cedric’s side. “Was he on a penitent crusade, which is why he didn’t have his full armor?”

“... No, he hadn’t been sent on a penitent crusade. That would imply a measure of honor that he wasn’t afforded by the one who… Who did that to him. I really don’t want to talk about this right now. The last time I saw Malachai like that, he died in M42. I… I’m hoping that with more skilled apothecaries, his fate will be changed.” Cedric murmured, his shoulders hunching a little as he buried his face in his hands.

“... Aren’t Black Templars who taken on an Apprentice, like, super protective of them? And swear righteous vengeance against who or whatever killed their apprentice?” Pyrus asked, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“That is how it’s supposed to work. It doesn’t always.” Cedric admitted quietly. It felt almost as if he was betraying his chapter by admitting that much… But his hearts hurt and part of him was very tired of keeping the secrets that he was. Maybe… Maybe he should ask Arnault and Roland to have a quiet but serious conversation about certain matters. Maybe it would help?

Pyrus started to speak, but several crucial, subtle sounds that Cedric’d been straining to hear, even over the sounds of his conversation with the Salamander scout had stopped. The world narrowed unpleasantly and something was shaking him.

Wait.

Someone.

“Cedric. Cedric! Easy. I promise I won’t ask any more questions. You back with me, buddy?” Pyrus asked, a frown of concern on his face, his bright orange-red eyes seemingly peering directly into Cedric’s soul.

“I can’t. I can’t hear Malachai breathing. Or his hearts. They’ve. They’ve stopped. I can’t hear them anymore. I… I need to… I need to help them get him back.” Cedric heard himself say, as the many intense emotions screaming through his hearts nearly overwhelmed his mind. He was trying to stand, but something was keeping him sitting down.

Pyrus was still holding onto him. “Cedric, you need to calm down. I get that that’s probably one of the three things you want to hear least right now, but running into that surgical tent covered in forest germs and dirt isn’t going to do your Brother any good whatsoever, and you bursting in on them suddenly might startle one of the other apothecaries into making an unfortunate mistake.”

Cedric could feel the growl in his chest, and the desire to fight and claw his way over to his Brother as his body coiled and tensed… But his good sense kicked in, and the young Black Templar sighed unhappily and went limp in the other’s firm grip. “You’re right. Much as I hate to admit it. You’re right. I-”

Any other words or thoughts he’d been trying to say or think died abruptly as Apothecary Melinth walked out of the tent and headed towards him, a grim expression on his face.

“Apothecary Taniel, I am here to inform you that your chapter brother, Malachai has died. His injuries were too extensive for us to treat. Do you feel up to assisting us in harvesting the organs that can be utilized as well as his gene-seed, if it is still viable? You are allowed to refuse, if you feel you are not up to the task. Losing a Brother you’re close to is difficult.” Melinth informed him, no emotion showing on his face or in his voice. The other’s icy blue eyes staring down at him dispassionately.

Several ugly and likely untrue accusations lingered on the tip of Cedric’s tongue as he stared up at the firstborn Marine. Cedric had no proof that Melinth and the others didn’t try their utmost in order to try and save his life. The fact that he had died meant that they had access to more Primaris organs and geneseed to study and use as they saw fit. How… Convenient for them, to be able to have a second dead primaris marine to study to their hearts’ content. But he wasn’t going to say any of that, as it was an awful thing to accuse someone of baselessly. “MY hands are still shaky. However, once you’ve removed everything you think is of use and value out of him, please stitch up my dead brother and allow me to take the remains to Ramiel, so he can get his final rites.” He really hoped that his voice was as bereft of emotion as he had been aiming for, rather than the seething fury and implication he could hear within his own voice.

Melinth stared down at him for several seconds before answering with a flat and emotionless “That will be done, Apothecary Taniel.” And then the other left, turning on his heel.

Cedric was briefly tempted to lash out at the older Apothecary. To hurt him in a fraction of the ways that he and his Brothers had been hurt by at best uncaring and apathetic firstborn brothers. But the urge for violence passed when Melinth was out of his sightline.

“Hey… Cedric…Why don’t we go for a walk? It’s still snowing, and the forest is really beautiful right now. And some movement might help with sorting your emotions, yeah?” Pyrus gently prodded.

He shook his head “I want to be here when they are done usi-... Done with Malachai’s body, so I need to be here.”

“... Alright. Do you mind if I wait with you?” Pyrus asked, still holding onto Cedric.

Cedric was grateful for the half-restraint, half-hug. It was helping ground him “If you wish to stay with me, I have no complaints. I do like you, Pyrus… And the snow is lovely.” He watched the snowfall with Pyrus as he waited the seeming eternity it took for them to be done harvesting from his dead brother.

They were even kind enough to have sent a message to Ramiel, ten minutes before they were done, so that the young Chaplain in training could prepare everything and gather the others before Cedric arrived on base with the body.

#oc: malachai #oc: cedric #oc: pyrus #oc: Melinth #warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #my writing #space marine husbandry #black templar #imperial fist #salamander #oc: jophiel #blood angel

29 notes · View notes

kirbybecomesastarwarrior · 8 months ago

Note

To Lady Celestine, from Magopon

Bonjour, I suppose? I don’t really think I know you yet so.. I was wondering, why not do an info exchange with each other I guess. Though I do know about you and Arthur. I do think it’s cute. So my barrage of questions starts now. First question, how did you get to know each other? Second, what is your favorite misadventure? Third, what do you like about Arthur, don’t think that I can’t see you two being lovey dovey. Well, I suppose I should keep my end. Things to know about me: I was the feared (yet cute) ogre of Kitakami. Next, uh let’s see, umm… Oh! I’m with Meta! And um, probably the easiest to provoke within my group I suppose. Well that’s all, I guess. Signing out, Magolor! -Magolor/Ogerpon

Such wonderful questions~

They don't deserve merely simple answers, how about a story instead

Truth be told my acts of vigilantism weren't for the fame or the glory... it was to atone what had happened to Shiver Star. Had I not told Absolum & Uther my vision...

Shiver Star wouldn't have had an... even worse fate than I had originally seen... Then I started to question everything... I had come to find out that all my visions of warning were ignored (by other Heroes of Yore & the Ancients) unless there was a benefit to them.

They didn't care about people who suffered from their acts, unlike them, I could see them... I could feel their pain too... I couldn't help but think that I had made everyone's life worse...

Until one day I just had enough.... I was done crying over my mistakes... I had to do something!

So the moment Triple Star was created I vowed I'd make up for all the damage I did with my visions. I'd "my future sight" to hunt down Nightmares monsters before they'd even had the chance to do any harm. I'd use my magic & alchemy to fix all the damage the GSA did to civilian planets.

(Basically, she did the same thing of what Edward did here but in secret)

But I will admit I did have my own little fun when I was out there as well...played a practical joke here or there swindled some swindlers... unleashed a hoard of flying pigs every time I played a prank but you get the idea.

My actions did go unnoticed... people could tell that someone in the night was fixing their homes & cities. Someone was taking out the monster even before Uther's soldiers (and Sir Uther didn't like that.) All they knew was a mysterious old mage wearing a blue cloak was helping them.

The people were starting to rely on me... I didn't want that to happen.

I wanted to stay anonymous but with how things were going to be difficult to hide myself for very long... there was another problem I was not long for the world

But that was around when I got Kirby's prediction.

There was a glimmer of hope left in the galaxy... Nightmare terror against the galaxy would end along with the Ancients & Uther's reign would end however there was a catch...

For those of you who haven't read (The Wart of Them All)

My visions were vague in nature but this one carried the most uncertainty.... I had no idea what wild goose chase this vision was leading me on... especially after I saw all my options...

I just needed to find the match; it didn't tell me how they fit into Kirby's prediction, nor what role they played in all this. But I did know this... I WAS NOT GOING TO MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE AGAIN AND TRUST ANYONE WITH MY KNOWLEDGE!

I needed to exhaust every avenue and be sure I was making the right choice... So I had to reveal myself to them as "Merlyn."

Actually, I didn't name myself Merlyn just yet... that'll have to come up in the next part.

To be continued~

Prev. ((The Wart of Them All) -

Next. ("The Start of Something Great")

@kirbyoctournament

Shoutout to @poyoofthestars Thank you so much for giving me such a great question it gives me all the power to lore dump!

I know what it looks like I did this on purpose: (For you those of you who aren't familiar with the Pokemon games: at the start of your journey you are given three choices as you're starter )

Basically, what Celestine was doing was choosing "the right starter Pokemon... to kick start Kirby's journey." But the main difference is that if she chooses the wrong one the galaxy is royally screwed! OUR GIRL WAS UNDER A LOT OF PRESSURE

Also, another fun lore dump Celestine never actually called herself Merlyn... it was actually Arthur who accidentally named her Merlyn.

Hope you guys enjoyed it see you in the next part.

#kirby #kirby oc #lady celestine #kbasw #kirby oc tournament #sir uther #sir arthur #hoshi no kaabii #celarthur #sir arthur kirby #krbay #propaganda #kirby right back at ya #sir nonsurat #dame morgan #kirby gsa #kirby anime #lmao sorry for the pokemon refence

27 notes · View notes

storiesofsvu · 2 years ago

Text

Back to Home

Emily Prentiss x reader Covers a bingo square. Warnins: language, hurt/comfort, deals with Emily coming back from the dead. Not sure if it's as good as I'd like, but I was just rolling off the fact that I hate that everyone was so upset with *her* rather than Hotch/JJ who lied and kept it secret all that time. And this is what we're left with.

Tears slowly streamed over your cheeks as you sat in the hard plastic hospital chair for what felt like hours. Your vision blurred; your ears buzzed with noise but you never really heard anything anyone was saying as the team slowly began to leave the emergency room. It had honestly even been a bit of a miracle you’d made it there in the first place, getting the unofficial call from JJ once they’d realized what was going on. While you were part of the FBI, you weren’t in the BAU, you normally wouldn’t have been let in on a case like this. The room was practically spinning, your cheeks were stained with the remnants of tears you had cried out as your fingers twisted the diamond ring on your left hand, one that Emily had given you less than a month ago. A promise of a future together, of plenty of memories to build, a life to grow, one that had been torn away from you in a matter of hours tonight. JJ’s words still ringing in your ears, ‘she didn’t make it off the table.’ You felt a sturdy hand wrap around your shoulder and without looking up you could tell it was Aaron, no doubt feeling responsible to make sure you got somewhere safe tonight,

“I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.” Your voice choked out, rough and raw from holding back sobs earlier.

“I know.” He squeezed softly, “but we can’t stay here much longer. Doyle’s still out there, we need to get you back home Agent Kennedy.”

“Agent?” Hotch’s voice rang clear through your mind and you blinked out of your memories.

“Kennedy?” JJ’s voice was softer and fully shook you out of your nightmares and you finally looked back up at the two of them.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head with an apologetic smile before you gulped, “I’m… not sure I understand…”

“Emily is alive.” The woman’s voice was soft, her small smile even softer as she sat across from you, her eyes attempting to read your face, “she’s been in hiding since Doyle got to her.”

“Like.. witness protection?” You asked. Normally your brain should have been able to wrap around this in seconds, processing it like the agent you were, but every single fibre within you seemed to have come to a halt. If someone had asked you what one plus one was you would’ve answered eleven.

“Sort of.” Hotch replied, “but the important thing is that we now have Doyle in custody.”

“He escaped Korea… are you sure this is even safe?” You finally looked up at him, tears threatening to spill over your cheeks, “I cannot lose her twice.”

“She’s the only one who can help us get to Declan and end this.” JJ assured, her hand reaching out to squeeze at your knee and you nodded.

“The team doesn’t know yet. I just wanted to make sure you got a heads up. She’s on her way here now.” Hotch commented.

“What?!” Your head shot up, lips parted as you sucked in a breath, “she’s… here?”

“We’re meeting in the round table room in fifteen if you’d like to be there. If you’d prefer a private reunion we can arrange that but there isn’t much time, we need to get to work asap.” The blonde offered and you shook your head.

“No…no..” You wiped away a stray tear, “if you give me even just a moment alone with her I’m not letting her go. And I know this is important. Just… give me a minute to.. get myself together.”

“Alright.” Aaron nodded, swiftly moving past you with a brief squeeze to your shoulder so he could gather the team.

JJ stayed with you, knowing that if you were to be left alone you would never move, frozen in your confusion, in your need for this to all be true yet the terror of it being a nightmare. That if you were to leave Hotch’s office you’d find yourself wandering into the roundtable room to find it empty, that this was another one of your recurring dreams. She handed you a tissue, helping you fix your slightly smeared makeup with a reassuring smile before you finally let out a solid breath and gave her a nod. She only dropped your hand once you hit the doorway of the room, letting you find your way around the table to drop into a chair. The team was used to having you around, even after losing Emily you were someone they consulted with relatively regularly and considering the case, no one batted an eye to you being there today.

You did your best to focus as voices began to fill the room, eyes flitting from one person to the next, your heart thundering in your chest so hard it shifted into your ears. No matter how much you tried to listen to the information all it turned into was a pulse in your head, voices drowned out by your brain telling you this was all your imagination. Until you heard the gasp beside you, the voices speaking their disbeliefs, the sound of footsteps stalling in the doorway to the roundtable room and with one deep breath the scent of her shampoo invaded your scenes from across the room.

“But… we buried you…” It was Spencer’s voice that brought you back to reality, surging you back to the day you’d watched her coffin sink into the dirt and you glanced up at him.

A few other comments were said as you tried to gather your composure, watching Emily cautiously moving through the room, her lips spewing apologies as she went. It wasn’t until your eyes finally landed on her that you let out a shaky breath of relief. She was real, she was there and she was suddenly a foot away from you in a now empty room.

Emily’s hands were shaking, her gut churning harder with every step she got closer to you, she could taste the bile creeping its way up her throat. Somehow coming back from the dead was more anxiety inducing than actually dying. She knew this was going to be intense, she knew it would be a lot, and while Hotch had warned her you’d been looped in, he’d failed to mention that you would be in the room.

“I’m so—” She hadn’t even gotten the sentence out before you’d launched out of the chair and for the briefest second she thought she was about to be hit. Instead you wrapped your arms around her, tighter than she’d expected and she let out a little squeak, causing you to leap away, hands shooting to your mouth.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” You muttered, “are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No, no!” Her hand jumped up to your arm, tears blooming in her eyes, “I just… I didn’t exactly expect any warm welcomes.”

“So… you’re really okay?”

“It was touch and go for a while.” She admitted after a heavy sigh, “and I wont lie, things still hurt like hell every so often but yeah… I’m healed… I’m okay.”

“Oh god.” You launched back around her once again, your arms wrapping around her shoulder so tightly you thought you’d never let go.

Emily let herself melt into your embrace, she’d been so worried how everyone would react and somehow you ended up being the single person who seemed to not hate her today. You clung to her with every ounce of love you ever had for her before all of this happened and she very happily buried her face into the crook of your neck. Soaking you in, breathing in the scent of your perfume, the feel of your skin against hers for the first time in months, aching to never let you go.

“We don’t have much time.” You murmured, your lips brushing against her neck and she shuddered.

“Why don’t you hate me?” She asked, her voice shaking as she finally pulled far enough away from you to gaze down at you and you choked out a laugh.

“How could I?” Your lips broke into a grin, “I love you, and you’re alive. How could it get better than that?”

“But…. I abandoned you.” Her voice softened, her hand coming up to caress your cheek, “and the team… and they don’t seem too happy.”

“It’s not your fault!” You nearly laughed, “Doyle…” your voice began to shake as tears flooded into your eyes, “I mean…. He did everything he could. If we were further from the hospital… who even knows…” Emily’s chest tightened at your words, her hand squeezing at your arm.

“You.. you were there?” She asked and you nodded.

“Hotch wouldn’t let me on the scene but I was in the ambulance with you. And I’ve never been more scared in my life. But that doesn’t matter.” You brushed away a tear, your hand reaching out to Emily’s cheek to wipe away her own, “what matters is you’re here now. And before you ask again, no, I will never hate you. Em… Doyle thought he killed you and your life depended on him thinking that he did.”

“You’re not mad about Paris?”

“You had no choice.” You squeezed at her hand, “you’d already ditched both of your phones, the only burner you had left no doubt he destroyed before the warehouse. It’s not like you had any way to contact me. The choice wasn’t yours and was made before you were even out of the coma. Sure, I missed you to hell and back, and every inch of my being wishes that I could’ve been put into hiding with you, but… I feel like then it would’ve been obvious you weren’t dead. And that means you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Emily grasped your hands in hers, taking the plunge to lean in and kiss you and your right hand quickly came up to caress her cheek, letting out a soft whimper at the feels of her lips finally against yours again. She never wanted to pull away, wanted to remain in that moment forever but she knew there was so much more to work though. When she finally did she found her hand playing with yours, cool metal meeting the tips of her fingers before she glanced down and her head tilted.

“You’re still wearing your ring?” She glanced up to you and you smiled, a huff of a laugh escaping your lips.

“I never wanted to give up on you.” You shrugged, “because the only future I saw was with you. The only future I wanted was yours. Even if you didn’t come back.”

“Oh sweetheart.” She stroked at your cheek again, her fingers affectionately pinching at your chin, “I never once stopped thinking about you, never stopped loving you.”

“I know.” You smiled before the two of you jumped at the sound of a knock on the door, glancing toward it as Hotch spoke.

“I hate to intrude, but Emily, we need you now.”

“Yeah.” She nodded toward him, glancing back to you who nodded.

“Go.” You squeezed softly at her hands, “just fucking come home to me in one piece this time, alright?”

“I will. I promise, and I don’t make those lightly.” She replied, leaning in to kiss you gently, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

The rest of the day felt like a blur, every time you caught yourself staring blankly at your computer you were certain that you’d dreamt the entire thing. That you would wander up to the BAU’s floor later with a smile on your face only for it to be replace with tears as the fantasy came crumbling down around you. Instead, you were met with extreme relief when seven p.m. was closing in and you felt a warmth on your shoulder, followed by Emily’s perfume invading your senses and you looked up with a bright smile. While she looked a little worse for wear, and you could tell she was utterly exhausted, she was there, a tired smile on her cheeks as she gazed down at you.

A tired smile that grew large when you jumped out of your chair to wrap her in the tightest hug, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. She had been so scared about coming back, about how everyone was going to react and after getting the cold shoulder from her team all day she was certain that you would’ve had time to process everything and you would be mad too. Instead of cold, she was met with your hand grasping hers, fingers interlacing and she felt the warmth bursting through her body starting from her fingertips shooting all the way down to her toes. A warmth she hadn’t felt in seven months, one that she had nearly forgotten what it felt like and the one that she had missed more terribly than anything else in the world.

“C’mon.” You murmured, squeezing at her hand, “let’s go home.”

———————————————-

@alexusonfire @mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots @overtrred28 @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments s @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @aws-l

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #k2023bdaybingo #emily prentiss one shot #emily prentiss hurt/comfort

354 notes · View notes