#It's weird going through loss when I live alone and everyone I know is far away

[loki-hargreeves]

I don't know how people claim cats are heartless. I was sobbing on the floor after getting devastating news and my friend's cat brought me her favourite toy mouse to comfort me and that genuinely felt amazing. Cats are amazing

[frozenjokes]

scar requests cubfan135 chill out with all the homocide. this goes poorly BUT scar has a lasso!!! nothing bad happens after that

ao3 link

LOOP 17

Scar woke up.

He did not catch himself, he never did, but chest and muzzle slamming against the hardwood floor hurt so much worse today. Months. Months he hadn’t had to die. He didn’t have the strength to pull himself up off his knees; mentally, yes, but physically, fuck, this was so much worse than he’d- fuck. He didn’t want to do this. He couldn’t do this again, and again and again and again- finding another layout fit to start the puzzle again would be so much of this, arms shaking, stomach hollow. He felt smaller. He was sure he was.

His Little, always in his arms, was gone. That might have shaken him more than his death in the first place.

How could Cleo have done this? Reset everything? She didn’t even- she didn’t even try! Cub wanted her to try and she didn’t-

Scar released a heavy breath. He took a few more, then pushed himself to his feet. How had he lived like this? He’d felt the difference in his strength and energy after his time spent alone, he’d certainly felt it, but..

He wasn’t even sure he had the energy to argue with them now. He was so tired. Had it been getting late? Maybe it didn’t matter. If dragging his feet through the hall to the safe room wouldn’t have killed him, he wouldn’t have bothered putting the effort in.

Cub had not gotten out of bed. Cleo was only sitting on the edge of theirs, staring dead at the floor. She looked up when Scar pushed inside.

“Oh, shit.” There was apathy there, but a shaky concern breached the surface, enough to make Cub look up. He didn’t speak, but stared long enough for Scar to know there was a noticeable physical difference. Yeah.. he didn’t have the thick fur to hide the way his skin stretched over his bones. He didn’t like looking at the humans like this; being seen so clearly.

“Have anything to say, Cleo?” Scar hissed instead, tail lashing in his discomfort.

Cleo frowned, shaking her head. “He was going to die, Scar. We could not finish without him. It sucks, I know it sucks, but I’m not going to draw out anyone’s suffering for a lost cause. I’m just sorry you don’t get to start the loop in a good state. We.. we’ll try again soon. As soon as everyone’s ready.” Cub grunted softly, but Cleo ignored him. “We got pretty unlucky during the last walkthrough period. It shouldn’t take nearly that long next time.”

“Cub wanted you to try, you didn’t even try.”

Cleo snorted, “I did try. You saw all the first aid shit all over the place. Cub doesn’t like to start over, but he would do the same thing if our positions were swapped. He has done the same thing. This isn’t our first rodeo. This isn’t the first time we’ve tried pushing on with a horrible injury either, but if we don’t die from something like blood loss, we go to infection, and if we miraculously survive something like that, it’s months of agony and working around a new disability the escape rooms weren’t designed for. We don’t have the supplies or the training to treat these kinds of injuries for a reason.”

“The puzzles aren’t meant to be solved to completion,” Cub mumbled, “We aren’t meant to escape.”

“Wh-” Scar whipped his head in a hard shake, ear pinned back as far as it could go, “Why, then? What’s the point?”

Cub and Cleo were quiet. They looked at each other, a brief glance turned long, tired. Cleo sighed through their nose. “They don’t know what to do with us. I think I told you that already, but it’s true. They don’t want us dead yet, we’re either too accomplished to kill or too weird; a mix of both if I’m being honest. Both of us are at risk of a random, spontaneous death, which no one wants because we’re too valuable to lose. Neither of us can be left unsupervised. Cub will go right back to environmental genocide and they’re worried I’m going to turn contagious or something, which is completely ridiculous. I’m done with necromancy, the damn government doesn’t have a thing to worry about, but.” Cleo shrugged. “So there’s a time component. That’s the bulk of it. There’s also the fact that both of us are at risk of going insane in one way or another, not that Cub isn’t already sitting in that bucket. I guess it’s no skin off Earth’s back either way.”

“Only clinically, and what the fuck do they know. You’re just as volatile as me,” Cub huffed, but Cleo continued without acknowledgment.

“A lot can change in ten years. There currently isn’t enough research on necromancy and the sculk for the humans on Earth to utilize the skills or the- just figure out what the hell is going on with Cub really, he isn’t particularly useful beyond the knowledge of Being An Extremely Bad Thing that the sculk managed to create. They need to puzzle out how that happened and how to stop it from happening again. They weren’t ready for Cub yet, so they launched him into space where he can’t hurt anyone. Simple. God knows the horrible fucking things they want me for, but they’re not getting shit. I’m perfectly happy being the only person in the whole damn universe to come back on her own. I don’t know what I’m in for after this but I.. already lost everything. Bought myself a new life at the cost of my old one. It was pretty stupid to think everything would just.. go back to normal.” Cleo sighed, but Scar wasn’t in a pitying mood.

“So it’s impossible. It’s impossible to get out early. This is all just something to do, something to work for so you don’t go insane- as if both of you are sane, come on! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“It’s not impossible,” Cub mumbled, but Cleo elaborated when he did not.

“It’s been done, and unless we’re being lied to, every puzzle designed on this ship is solvable. It’s hard, but it’s possible.”

“There's a chance the puzzles aren’t possible!?” Scar felt lightheaded. Cub and Cleo were quiet for a long time.

“Better not to think about it. It doesn’t matter. Without fail, Scar, you will believe once you finish that first room that you can do it all. That this is the one. That you’re going to get out of here in a few short months. Because you have to. Because there is nothing else to do but play the game.” Cleo sighed, “In the end.. I don’t think the puzzles are impossible. Even when we get stuck, we usually push through before one of us kicks it. It’s just.. six months is a long time to be perfect. That’s a long time not to make a mistake. Plenty of time to get complacent, to get tired, one trap is all it takes, and it’s more than likely you trip more than one over the course of so many months. That’s what makes it impossible.” They stopped, correcting, “Unlikely.”

“Unlikely,” Scar repeated, the word like poison against his tongue. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair,” Cub agreed, sitting up. “Well. I’m going to go make this everyone else’s problem. Goodbye.”

“Wait- What are you doing-? Where are you going?” Scar tried to catch Cub’s sleeve as he slipped past, but Cub ducked left out of reach, not looking back and not responding. “What is he doing?” Scar whirled to Cleo, who shrugged, unconcerned.

“Probably gonna challenge himself to make some device that kills both of us at the same time. Something like that.”

“What!? No!” But Cub was already disappearing through the door to the control room hall, Scar staring helplessly when he was not acknowledged. “This- No. We are not doing this again.”

Cleo snorted, not looking up from where she had settled back on her bed. “Good luck.” Apparently Scar’s movement caught their eye, because they looked up when Scar began to march toward the door. “Is that- Where did you get that? Is that a fucking lasso? Have you always had that?”

Scar did not answer, throwing open the door and pushing inside, holding the loop of his lasso firmly, twirling it above his head. “Cub!”

Cub hesitated on the other half of the hall, surely stopping in his tracks at Scar’s commanding proclamation.

“Is that. What is that. Is that a fucking lasso? Have you always had that?”

“Quiet! You are going to walk your ass right back to the safe room mister, and we are going to talk this out. No more killing each other! No more murder! You agreed to this.”

“I literally never said that.” Cub stared, eyes flicking from Scar to his lasso, intimidated by his prowess. “There’s no way you get me with that. Not from all the way across the room, no way.”

“Are you so sure?”

“I am one hundred percent sure, where the fuck did you get that?”

With the precision and accuracy only possessed by the members of the ScarFire mercenaries, Scar threw his lasso, catching Cub by the shoulders and forcing him back, Cub would SURELY REGRET doubting Scar’s abilities , being dragged face first across the floor as he was.

Scar did not hear the machine gun click behind him, but he saw the piano fall behind Cub, a near miss as Scar’s back was sprayed by bullets, an arrow shot from the other side of the room finding purchase in his shoulder. Scar only knew blood as he wheezed for breath, Cub seeming to have disappeared in the seconds Scar closed his eyes, a hole in the floor and a muted splash serving as explanation. Ah.. So he may have miscalculated.

LOOP 18

Scar went to the safe room as fast as his legs would carry him there, weak as he was, but Cub was not going to run away from him.

Scar caught him just as Cub’s hand reached the hall doorknob, the lasso snatching his neck, pulling just hard enough to unbalance Cub until Scar could get ahold of the scruff of his coat. Cub gagged, pulling at the noose, but there was no more escape.

Behind him, Cleo clapped quietly, and Scar preened with his quarry in hand. Plucking Cub off the ground, he dragged him over to Cleo’s bed, dropping him once satisfied. Cub was quiet, effectively neutralized, and only attempted to bite once or twice when Scar removed the loop from his neck.

“You’ve gotten much faster,” Cleo said, giving Cub a pitying pat on the back. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”

“No he won’t. No more getting anyone.” Scar crossed his arms, tail tip flicking when Cleo rolled her eyes. “This is not healthy!! You two are horribly desensitized to all this violence, and that’s coming from someone whose job it is to kill people like you.” Scar began removing his space suit as he talked, shaking his head. “You two are friends. You’re meant to be friendly with each other.”

“Your imagination is not broad enough to comprehend the ways in which I am going to hurt you,” Cub growled, to which Scar corrected him with a small cuff.

“Those are the kind of words I don’t want to hear anymore. This is not normal behavior. You two- especially you, Cub, need a serious murder detox! There has to be something more productive you could be doing with your time, for goodness’s sakes, something more fun.“

“We could fuck,” Cleo suggested, nudging Cub teasingly.

“I-“ Scar wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that, opening and closing his mouth, “Yeah- sure, I guess you could do that.”

“We could.” Cub huffed, “I guess. But I want the lasso.”

Scar gaped for a moment before holding his lasso closer to his chest. “Please- Don’t defile my lasso.”

“Where did that come from anyway?” Cleo asked, picking the other end of the rope up off the ground and looping it through their fingers, which Scar was suddenly much less comfortable with.

“I’ve always had it! Right in the bag- holster thing on my suit.”

“Would’ve been nice to know,” Cub mumbled, to which Scar gave him a couple hard bats, “Didn’t know we were stranded with a prude, yeesh.”

“Yeesh,” Cleo assented, more than amused with whatever was happening here, “Well you’re going to have to get over it. It’s this or getting violently dismembered, probably.”

“You’re still getting dismembered.”

“Hey! I’m not- fine, take the stupid lasso I don’t care. Not ‘yeesh,’ I’m not a prude. Do whatever you want. I’ll be in the control room if you need me. Just- Get it out of your system.” Scar did not wait for a response before leaving them to it. Cub and Cleo weren’t really food to him anymore, not really, but similarly to how he’d feel seeing two animals go at it in the wild, he was uninterested. At least he got a warning.

So he waited. He called Mumbo, let him know everything was okay; as okay as it could be at least. The loop had reset, and he was having some trouble with the humans, but he was somewhat optimistic they would work it out. At the very least Cub had better behave after this; Scar didn’t like giving up his lasso for.. however they intended on using it. He left that detail out of his recounting to Mumbo, who still wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Nuisance creatures, they are.”

Scar shrugged, “They’re alright. I’d rather they be frustrated like this than bashing each other’s heads in, you know.”

“Bad or worse, I suppose.” In hindsight, Mumbo was a little bit of a prude.

But Scar didn’t talk to him for more than a half hour, wanting to savor his time over the rest of the week. He didn’t think the humans would be much longer; this was already quite a bit of time to be messing around- he was pretty sure at least. He couldn’t say he knew all that well. At least there was a clock in here, so Scar had the privilege of being painfully aware of the hours as they passed.

He didn’t know what to do. He had assumed one of the humans would come around and let him know when they were done, but Scar hadn’t asked them to. But what if human mating rituals were extremely lengthy? Scar didn’t know! It would make sense if they hadn’t thought to tell him either; this wouldn’t be the first time the humans assumed things were the same on Scar’s planet as it was on theirs. Oh, this was terrible. He couldn’t even knock on the door! The rooms were soundproof- Scar didn’t think they’d hear it.

After three hours, he’d had enough. He was just going to crack open the door and ask; if he saw or heard anything, he’d leave them in peace right away! More power to them! Hopefully by the end they’d be tired, no more murderous intention. At least for today.

Creeping down the hall as if he were afraid of being caught, he hesitated when he reached the door.

It was dark. Oh. Was it night time? Scar couldn’t remember what time night started, but they’d turned the lights off, so it must be now. The humans didn’t really darken the room otherwise. It would make sense. Scar was pretty tired himself.. maybe he should have napped while he was waiting.

“Cleo?” Scar waited, but there was no answer. “Cub?” Still nothing, but Scar could hear quiet breathing through the crack. Well.. alright. He pushed through the door, closing it quickly behind him; he didn’t want the light to disturb the sleeping humans, a Cleo shaped lump in their bed all but confirming this truth. Maybe humans got really tired after mating; that would explain why they didn’t come get him.

Tip toeing inside, cool steel below his foot was the only warning before something snapped with a horrible crunch over his ankle, Scar hardly having time to scream before his legs were yanked out from under him, back slamming into the floor before he was hoisted upwards by his shattered ankle, agony beyond his wildest nightmares wrenching a ragged screech from throat. Something sharp hacked at his lower back, but Scar lacked the wherewithal to know if he’d been cut as his belt and all his holsters tumbled to the floor.

“Help. Help!” the words ripped their way out of his throat with a hoarse sob, he was spinning, spinning, upside down, his leg, his ankle, it had to stop, please, someone had to remove the pressure from his ankle. Desperation surfaced in a surge of strength to heave himself up, cut the tie keeping him suspended, but that effort put even more weight on his shattered ankle, and crying out, he went limp. “Cleo- Cub, please, please!”

As Scar spun, slowly, surely facing the beds once more, he became increasingly aware of the stillness of Cleo’s form, dread dropping like a stone in his stomach, seeming to plummet all the way down to his throat and lodging itself in his jaw. He could still scream, however, and certainly did when something grabbed the base of his scuff, yanking. Thrumming new agony pulsed down his leg, stomach, chest, every part of his body sharing the flame that exploded out from his foot, which Scar was sure would fall off if his leg didn’t disconnect itself from his body first.

“Scar.” Cub held him firm at the back of his neck, and Scar feared resistance would liven the pain and panic that had already blinded him. “It has occurred to me that you have misunderstood the dynamic of our situation here. Let’s just talk it out, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Cub. Cub- Let me down. Let me down, please, please, Cub let me down.” From his limited point of view, Scar could see the thick pipes at the ceiling that Cub had used to hoist him into the air, one end tied to the steel toothed trap locked around his bloody ankle that was leaking all the way down his leg. The grip of Scar’s scruff tightened.

“You think you can control me, Scar. You think you can control me, is that right? Hold me down, tell me how it is- Let me tell you how it is, right? How things are going to be here, yeah?” Cub was so angry, so angry, Scar felt his spit on the black of his neck when he screamed, “I know what I am!”

“I’m sorry- Cub, I’m sorry, please let me go.”

“Your room is a hunting lodge, did you know? Or were you out of there too fast to see it, out to get me, you know you can overpower me, Scar, but I’m smarter than you, and I'm starting to get sick of you people getting in my way.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you-” Scar didn’t get to finish before being whipped into a spin, the agony acute and fiery and so much impossibly worse than before, Scar still dizzied even when Cub caught him again, this time by the throat.

“Look at me.”

Scar tried, he tried, even through the terror, even through the darkness at the edges of his vision and the white spots dancing across his eyes. But he tried, and he saw it, he saw exactly what Cub meant him to see, the spots of light tattooed over his dark brown irises standing out like two irradient stars fighting the haze of thousands of years of light pollution. Scar couldn’t usually see it so clearly with Cub’s thick glasses catching so much glare from the fluorescent lights, but without them, there was no hiding those spots he desperately wanted the rest of the world to see.

“I’ve become exactly what it needs me to be. There’s no person anymore, Scar, there is nothing left to fix or save. I will do whatever I please with you until I return to Earth, and maybe they’ll watch me, they’ll see exactly what I’m capable of, and still they’re so stupid they won’t know to be afraid. I know- I know what I am! I’m meant to be everywhere! I need to spread.”

Cub did not move when Scar wound back, but what scared Scar more than anything is that Cub did not flinch when he raked his claws through the human’s face, deep, catching under his left eyelid, splitting his broad nose and busting the edge of his lip. Scar saw the pale red of stunned skin before blood caught up with the cuts, leaking out in dark clots, and still Cub did not move, he did not blink.

“I’m scared. I’m scared, Cub.” What a stupid, silly thing to say. Calling out to a man who was no longer trying to hear him. No, no, Scar believed him. This was not a man anymore.

“It’s okay,” he said, too tender to be soothing. Cub drew a hand over his face, he moved like he’d forgotten how to use his own limbs, wrist and fingers limp as his forearm guided his hand from his forehead to his chin, collecting the blood that Scar had drawn. “You can still be part of something bigger.”

Scar did not expect Cub to be able to grab him with such precision, thumb and forefinger hooked around the corners of his jaw, pushing, forcing Scar’s muzzle open and driving his own bloodied hand inside. Scar bit him, he bit him because he was scared, he gagged on the fist that Cub seemed determined to choke him with, he cried when Cub cooed at him, then withdrew with the sentiment that Scar had done so well.

Scar struggled to shut his aching jaw, blood and saliva seeping through his teeth as Cub disappeared behind him. There was some kind of sawing sound, or maybe that was just Scar’s pounding head.

And then he fell. He fell and he screamed when he didn’t think he had the strength to scream any longer, he wailed as his legs hit the floor, he could have sworn his ankle might have snapped off, but he didn’t know, he couldn’t when his eyes were stung by hot tears. He did not have the strength to sit up. He whimpered when Cub’s fingers brushed behind his ear, petting softly.

“It’s more fun when it’s a game, isn’t it,” Cub mumbled, but Scar didn’t believe it was Cub anymore, “I can keep it together. For the sake of getting out of here, I can keep it together. But you get restless. Angry. I want to see the world, worlds, don’t you? I have to. Maybe you don’t feel that way. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

For Scar, ‘keeping it together’ seemed a monumental task, but he tried, tried to be still, move subtly, find one of the guns that Cub had cut loose from his hip. He didn’t know what Cub could see; very little apparently, but Scar hadn’t noticed any impairments or stumbling, not now. He was afraid, very afraid that Cub might try to keep him alive.

“Damn.. country roads,” Cub mumbled on, unfocused, “People drive so fast, don’t look where they’re going. I got hit, I leveled that car and it nearly killed me too, nearly.. That would have been better, I think. It would have been beautiful.” Briefly, Cub’s hand left Scar’s head to make a vague, poofing gesture, but it found its way back quickly, and Scar wondered if Cub was afraid to lose him. No, that was ridiculous. “Those damn headlights, it’s horrible in the dark. They just keep getting brighter, and why? I don’t like the light. Let the night stay dark, that’s what I think. It’s criminal. Those lights should be illegal.”

Scar was afraid to break eye contact, not that Cub was really looking at him, but Scar didn’t want him to start. Exploring with the hand furthest away from his captor, he finally found his belt. Crawling along the leather, he released a shaky breath when the first holster was out of reach.

“Are you hurting?” Cub did not ask like he expected an answer. Scar grimaced, pulling his belt closer, but the noise got Cub’s attention, turning, but he did not see, Scar was certain his eyes did not focus, so with great effort, Scar heaved himself upwards to redirect Cub’s attention, more noise to distract from his true intention.

“Don’t go,” Cub said, but Scar was more focused on his guns, his empty holsters, fuck, maybe it was obvious they’d bounce away from the fall? “Aren’t you dizzy? Why don’t you lay down. Close your eyes.”

He was dizzy. The idea of Cub's sculk being the cause made him sick to his stomach; he absolutely could not stay here and under no circumstances would he be closing his eyes. Seeing double, he managed to get eyes on one of his guns. Cub only watched as Scar dragged himself toward it.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

Cub would not be able to stop him. By the time understanding dawned on his form, Scar’s gun was already cocked. Cub did not speak before the bullet pierced his skull. Relief crashed out of Scar in a whimper, collapsing where he sat as the last of his energy left him. He really.. He really didn’t feel good. For the first time since he’d been dropped, he thought to check on his ankle, immediately wishing he hadn’t. Scar was.. starting to think Cub never intended on saving him. At that level of nearly severed, Scar was stunned it had ever held his entire body weight for so long. Ah..

Pain had lost all meaning at this point. Better, certainly, to lay down.. close his eyes..

[eqt-95]

20 Questions More

A deeper and more detailed version of the 20 questions for AO3 fanfic writers. Thanks @fabulousglitch for the tag!!

1) How do you keep getting ideas for your ship/fandom?

The blorbos won't leave me alone.

2) Which authors inspire you in your fandom, and why are they so freakishly good?

There are too many to count. I was introduced to Supergirl through fanfic and the canon I know to be true has been built on the backs of hundreds of contributors. It wouldn't do anyone justice if I started a list because 1. it would become a monolith of names and 2. I would definitely miss one(s). If you're in this fandom, you've likely inspired me, and that counts both for written, gif-ed, and drawn works.

3) Aside from the characters of your main ship, who are the characters you love to write?

Alex, but I don't always get it right.

4) Are there pairings or tropes you know for sure you'd never write about? Which ones?

There is a lot I probably wouldn't do, but I also for sure never expected to write an F1 au, so...

5) What is your writing process and why is it cursed?

I can either sit down and crush 1-3k words or sit down and tweak the same seven sentences for two hours. There is rarely an in between.

6) What is your favorite part of your writing process?

Editing. Oh boy do I LOVE editing. Those opportunities for finessing and fine-tuning and tweaking are *mwah*

7) What’s the weirdest thing you’ve had to research for a fic?

This isn't weird but is more recent: I did a deep dive into star constellations for a throwaway line in 'new kind of romance'

8) Is there a particular writing rule you struggle with (grammar, spelling, tense, reality in general)?

This is a nonanswer, but I would love to expand my vocabulary. The thesaurus is my writing buddy, but there are very real moments where I pout and scowl and glare at the ceiling because I can't think of the word that I'm feeling.

9) What was your hardest scene to write so far and why?

Any sort of conflict/confession/confrontation is always really hard for me, but they're also maybe my favorite things to write. I want the characters to hash things out and be honest and vulnerable, and I think tackling big emotions is a delicate balance. I never want to sound too forceful, but I don't want to leave things unsaid, but I don't want anyone to do anything out of character, but i don't want to yadda yadda...

10) Have your characters ever done something you didn’t expect, changing your plot completely?

see: 'crisis of indulgence'

11) If you could converse with any of the characters, who would it be and why?

Lena; I think she'd be a lot of fun to debate/argue with (respectfully).

12) What are some of the tropes or themes that you find yourself returning to in your writing?

(so far) always a happy ending. the readers and these characters deserve it.

13) What's your most important resource as a writer?

Living experiences (which takes time!). I don't think I could write heartbreak without having experienced that guttural feeling of loss in the same way I don't think I could write about failure or anger or insecurity or love or laughter. I think reading and the act of writing every day are incredibly resourceful, but the act of my lived experiences and those feelings is something I draw from in everything I write.

14) Can you share some of your strategies for editing and revising your work?

I edit as I go which doesn't work for everyone; however, a super fun thing I've picked up in recent works is this: when going to do a final edit of a <insert: chapter, one-shot, etc>, I read the last few paragraphs first. That sets me up to know exactly what the chapter is aiming for: feelings, motivations, plot, etc. I then use that as the anchor for how I tweak/edit/add small details to the rest of the chapter during my final read-through. I find it helps flesh out the larger story with smaller details.

15) Which is worse: making the summary, picking the tags, or the anxiety when you post your fic?

none of the above really since nothing about posting is carved in stone. tags and summaries can always be tweaked.

16) How do you define success for your fanfic - hits? Kudos? Comments? Bookmarks? Or just if you like it?

If it's finished. Bonus points if people get something out of it, but the act of having written something feels like the biggest success.

17) Do you have a playlist for your favorite character/ship?

Not really. I have go-to soundtracks for 'writing vibes' but nothing project/ship dedicated. (though 'like we're made of glass' was definitely inspired by very specific songs)

18) If fan art was going to be made from your work, which fic would you pick and which fan artist would you like to create it?

Again there are too many jaw-droppingly talented artists in this fandom to choose just one. It would of course be a wild crazy honor to see a work inspired by one of my fics, but there's already so much in this fandom to be inspired by that it doesn't feel like a loss.

19) How many WIPs do you currently have?

*sighs* for supercorp? there are a few (five). but the one that has most of my creative down time is a supercorp wicked au i have wanted to write for years but only have the faintest wisps of an outline for.

20) What's your advice to new fanfic writers?

Do it, do it, do it!

But also, one of my favorite pieces of advice for ANY creative venture is from Marc Dalessio who made this super cool 'creative process' graph in 2010 and included this line to summarize it: The ability to see improves before technical skill, and we often have difficulty assessing honestly exactly how our work looks.

It helps during those ruts when I look at everything I've recently written/drawn/created and scrunch up my nose in snobbish disgust because it just means I'm growing in some new way and not that anything I'm doing is inherently bad.

- - - - -

tagging (respectfully and without pressure) @sideguitars @fazedlight @inkedroplets if you want some rapid-fire q's thrown your way. but also anyone who wants to take a swing, i'd be jazzed to read the different answers

[onyourhyuck]

One Thousand Desires. | L.HC (M)

prologue- “Sell your soul to me darling.” + “I can give you anything and everything you want, you just have to say the words.”

summary: there is a saying that you shouldn’t be walking the streets late at night on Halloween because a demon can latch itself on to you. But surely that’s just a myth, y/n believes. She is fearless and never gets scared. Until she meets a demonic entity in her house.

tw- demon fantasy romance. demon!haechan. smut. romance. fluff. enemies to lovers type of thing. dark content and language. blood mention. death mention. horror elements. graphic detail. erm yh read at your own warning. Unprotected. Boob play. Biblical themes.

notes- 😫 Kinktober fanfic!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You stand still in front of your locked door, a fall of your sweat hits the ground and as did your legs giving up, you’re on the floor of your apartment. Pupils shrieking in multiple sizes from small to large, reflecting upon the terrifying red glowing ominous eyes right at you,

As if it was waiting for your move to make theirs. Starting to feel self conscious of everything your body did, the heart beating fast made your brain paranoid, your lungs suffocating with lack of oxygen as your anxiety took over with the massive amount of adrenaline in your veins.

The way this situation made no sense. You came back home alone, yet there stands a black floating figure with a large cloak covering its face. Long limbs latching forward crawling to just take a nip at you. The only thing you could see on the creature was their large dangerous eyes, watching you intensely.

Y/n’s nose becomes short ragged as your lips quaver open silently without a tone escaping, your nostrils flaring in adenoidal; speaking through your sounds out of the nostrils.

“What the hell are you…” You whisper, though it came out as almost silent air, the creature heard you crystal clear like a transparent gas in the air.

He cackles amused, stepping forward leisurely as he looks around the hallway where family portraits and photos, sometimes painting you’d hung up too, start to fall and shake down as if it was vibrating through him. The glass shatters causing you to flinch on the ground, crawling backwards immediately when he stops seeing you look so panicked.

“I am the genie.” He dramatically slurs. The massive cloak floating body of its crouched down to the perfect eye level, but he was still looking at you from above where you had to force yourself to look up at him. Like a sinner.

He sighs at your silence. “No scream? No words? Cat got your tongue?”

He questions, wondering if perhaps you were far too shocked to the point loss of words. Little did he know you were so terrified that perhaps you wished this was a dream that ended this instant. Never in your life have you experienced fear until now. This foreign feeling was both addicting with adrenaline as you felt like you were floating in between clouds, but at the same time you knew once this dangerous thrilling hormone in your body dies down.

You’re going to feel like the shittiest human on earth. You will live in denial, or, perhaps you’ll live in fear constantly as well paranoia.

You shake your head breathing heavily with pants. “This can’t be real. This is a dream. What the fuck is a genie.” You exclaim at once, explosively.

“I thought you’d never ask.” The deep mannerism voice said, would he take off the cloak to surpass the intense curiosity that gains your attention on the go.

Everyone would be just like you, expecting a deadly monster of some sort, like an abomination that was out of movies. A mutant with weird deforming facial structure, maybe something out of resident evil too. Green skin, or black skin representing the darkness. A high abnormal height like of creepypasta characters. No hair. Striking giant eyeballs ready to control you. And finally, a large carved deadly smile with cunning fangs to gnaw you to shreds, eat you alive, kill you, end your life within a minute or a second. But no. You were only answered with million other questions endlessly piling up when you saw the complete opposite of what you’d imagine the creature before you looks like, which ultimately makes you believe that you might be in fact dreaming but the more you pinch yourself it proven you to be wrong. This was in fact, all reality.

In front of you stands the most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on. Honey-like bronze skin melting like syrup, smooth as wood when sandpapered, his heart shaped jawline and mouth were this red apple colour, glossing brightly with dewiness as if he were a painting canvas. The way he had thick black hair , stylised in a mullet with mini curls peeking out; the creature looking so humanised, looks at you with a daunting expression and a smug-smirk, he saw the way your eyes light up in surprise and shock, soon sparkling stars enlighten. He knew himself he was out of this world.

But seeing the reactions of someone else never fails to boost his egotistical heart to beat alive once again.

“I am genie. The demon who will grant you thousands desires.”

The man bows his head as he stands up to you. He lifts himself back up awaiting your response. In which you blurt out,

“I thought genie was…meant to be in a lamp.” You carefully troath, the man let’s out a disappointing head shake and a compliant. Of course he was expecting a mortal to compare him to a fictional character that stole his title!

It hurt his pride and more or else, he would have to say he’s more handsome than a blue floating man from Egypt or whatever.

“How dare you compare me to that stupid fraud.” He coils, offering you an offended expression where he knits eyebrows together,

Glaring at you. Y/n puts her hands up in apologetically manner.

“What do you want from me.” You told and he scoffs turning away from you. The man walks around the house as freely as he wishes, making it his comfort in it. You felt outcasted in your own home, despite it being your property it was as if the foreign demonic entity was marking this place as his own.

The way your words lap to his direction makes him chuckle mentally, humans are always so scared and fragile. Anything to do with death becomes so unknown to them, scarring them from their own life. The genie could grant you immortality if you wish. He can grant anyone anything. All the man is, he is a preacher for the selfish. He hunts whoever feeds on greed and therefore in return he takes their soul. Call him a villain in this story, you wouldn’t be wrong but you wouldn’t be right either. If this was a movie set up, the man would be an morally grey character. He does no heroic actions nor does do any evil. Unless there is something in for him.

In the end his story is bitter and god has punished him. He once was just like you, like any other mortal residing on this forsaken realm. He went by the name Lee Donghyuck, a nickname substituting to Haechan for close friends. He was a rich son born to a wealthy man durning the 1600s. Though born with a silver spoon in his mouth only intensified his selfish greed that cost people lives upon lives. He was a murderer. He was the result of the seven deadly sins, greed. He broke religious commandments without a thought twice. Hence in the end when his life came to a sore bitter stop, god has made him a demon. There was no way the man up there was letting him off that easy with a first class ticket to hell. Where all the problems he has caused on earth has deputised chaos, the price became himself.

Now he has to hunt people. Lure them with an exquisiteness charm. Conning humans to sell their souls to him. If he fails to get them a day, God made sure to make it clear that he shall perish into ashes.

Donghyuck turns on the heels of his black leather boats, swiftly shifting his back away where he faces you, sending a carving charming grin at your helpless soft innocent looking face.

“Sell your soul to me darling.” He advised, not like you had a choice. donghyuck is a man of his words and when he wants something; he will get it, no matter what.

Though the maddening words sent the outmost terrifying terror in your body, your heart was surprisingly the most calm organ in your system. The lungs felt like a large concrete wall was pushing in and in, hiding out the leftover oxygen, in returning making your chest tighten and you, unable to breathe in air through your lungs because of how anxious you are.

Running adrenaline was not enough to keep you numb. You need something more to make you calm. The handsome entity saw the way your twisted expression flashes in a second, the moment he approaches you again by walking forward to come closer.

“Why. Why me.” You blabber out. Head shaking in frustrated dwelling. Why did it have to be you? Why did he pick you?

There was a reason of why he chose you out of anyone else. Donghyuck found you to be the most qualified and entertaining mortal , to the point he wants you to sell your soul willingly. Sure, he’s collected thousands upon thousands of souls from human to human differing from one another; but they don’t quite hit the same as you. He observed you for a few days, learned your weaknesses and strengths. Hell he even caught you doing your private showering to your late night fling sex. You’re a strong individual. One to never show fear. One to fight for what she believes and the one for taking control. He’d like to think you’re scared to be vulnerable as you cannot stand a situation going out of your hands. For example like this situation currently. You’re left hyperventilating because this scares you to be exposed to something foreign.

But not to worry. Donghyuck can give you anything and everything, you just have to make up your mind and say something. The man kneels down on his knees, his back arching forward to lean close to your beautiful scarce face. Donghyuck gently strokes your face with his hands, the tension from your soft smooth and clear face sent him into havens he’s never been to before. Such a beautiful damsel you are but at the same time not very damsel either. The way his hand effects you, rose him with arousal of excitement.

Breathe hitches loudly, the corner of your eyes staring down at the pretty sun kissed hands holding your cheek sliding down to the very edge of your jawline, Lifting you to look up at him directly.

“You fascinate me Y/n. You’re so different from the mortals that all act the same, wish for the same things, hell, it’s as if I’ve been meeting the same person for decades.”

He whispers now, transmitting all emotions in his voice that strike you to be so humane. Donghyuck looks like you, a person, but the image of him at the beginning standing in your hallway so creepily sends shivers down your spine. He’s dangerous. But little by little you’re starting to fall just a bit.

“I can give you anything and everything you want, you just have to say the words.” He tells Y/n who stared at him with wide shrieking pupils. He put a spell on you, metaphorically, you felt your head spinning.

He wonders, what do you desire? You don’t show any impulse for money. You don’t seek revenge in your large beautiful heart and you definitely do not look for immortality. So what could you possibly desire subconsciously and openly in your body, heart, mind and soul? It leaves him on a toll of overthinking thoughts, he cannot figure you out. This is what he meant by different.

You’re just one of the few mortals (though he’d have to say one of its kind) that does not want anything. You’re selfless. Something he never was in his past lives, current life and even as a demonic being. He admires you for your holy trait.

God will definitely have a first class to heaven for you. You aren’t falling so deep in his charming words that are as devilish as they sound in the Bible. He was the snake and his words were a sweet longing red apple waiting to be bitten. You were the humanity on line that did not take a bite. You were cautious and paranoid.

Y/n thickly gulps, finally getting caught in a conflict of the emphasis of ‘everything and anything’. The way your body reacts without filter, you knew that the demonic being in front of you holding you so dear, was now preparing for your answer. You close your eyes tightening your thighs together as you lean with your eyes closed.

“I…”

He heard you pause abruptly. The beautiful man in front of you was fooling you so deeply into an endless pool of sinful thoughts. God, you prayed in your head to forgive you for what you’re thinking and for what you’re considering to do.

Selling your soul? You happen to ask yourself if it is worth the effort and price to sell yourself to a man so enthral, for what you’re desiring is a job no one could do.

You’re a lustful young woman who hit her twenty’s not too long ago. You’re not that experienced. In fact you only recently lost your virginity to some bum of a man at a party,

You blame the alcohol for its doing because if you knew who you slept with you’d reconsider the man immediately.

But yes your first time wasn’t the most proudest and it definitely was a shit experience. You’ve never been left satisfied enough and you didn’t have your first orgasm either. Now that there stands before you a demon with such sex appeal, you can’t help but let your mind run laps and the idea could only get you wetter and wetter.

“There is no need to be shy. I will give you everything you wish for.” The demon reassures and pulls his hand away. You inhale deeply.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Y/n finally let’s out the words she so wanted to speak for so long, with a long ragged breathing, the demon faces her with a chilling dark expression that screams to you ‘with pleasure.’ He was just as glad to hear such an intimate activity. It could only put the innocence beauty of yours to be a fraudulent disguise. It doesn’t seem like you are so…pearl and gem like golden as he thought.

You’re just as sickening and twisted as he is. “I knew i did a good job picking you…” he trails softly lifting you up by his body bridal style. He heard mini surprise noises leaving your lips. The man speedily teleports in your bedroom with you thrown on the bed. He floats lightly to the bed with him over you, as he did not waste a minute,

All you heard him whisper was a few Latin words and a click to the fingers. You become nude and exposed so easily. A shivering cold air hit the skin, goosebumps hovering on you. Donghyuck licks the bottom lip eyeing you up and down, like you were for his eyes only to see. His soul. His human.

No one else’s.

“Would you rather prefer my demonic form or my human form?” He casually asked as he took off the dark grim cloak, exposing the white fancy-looking shirt that came off instantly to reveal the chiselled body of his, glowing brown skin eking to be marked by you. You weren’t focused on yourself to realise that unknowingly you grind on his cloth thighs, repeatedly humping it dry. You moan.

Donghyuck holds down the hips flat on the bed, pushing your body with it. He smirks seeing how frustrated you are, the more reactive you get the more he felt the sexual tension built. Lord have mercy on your soul, you’re not so bright afterall.

“Human. Keep the human form, please.” You tell desperately, closing your eyes shut and reopening them to see Donghyuck licking the inner thighs, soft bites to the canine teeth made, he found the places on your body that you never knew about would make you so sensitive and weak to the knees. The inner thighs mark where he bit down, spilling small scabs of blood in his mouth, traces his tongue up your legs to the round curve hips. Above your abdomen he rests, kissing it.

Lips were so deadly as your body jolts at it. The new feeling of warm mouth placing wet kisses, up from the stomach rural area until he reaches the exposed chest. In goes your right tit first, circled by the hungry tongue and a soft punch by the canine teeth leaving you to shout with pleasurable vocals; a few wet kisses once again when he pulls off the chest, he comes forward to your neck that made you become so ragged with oxygen. The same suffocating sensation from earlier except, this time, you were enjoying the way he made you run out of breath by simply teasing and putting on a minor foreplay.

You never felt such compatibility with anyone before except him and he wasn’t a human. You ache for him more and more he kept you waiting but despite the way he needs you to sell your soul as desperately too, he wasn’t in such hurry as you were.

“God, don’t keep me waiting please.” Y/n pleads like there was no tomorrow. Your voice echoes in the man’s ears like music, he darkly laughs sadistically. “Darling there is no god involved here. Only the devil.” —

“But don’t worry my soul. I’ll make this the most unforgettable everlasting pleasure to quench that lustful body of yours.” He continues to trace as the did his fingers now connect to your swollen clit gushing for a release for a lifetime, hands were as warm as the sun itself; scorching your skin with such impact you will never forget in your memory. Rubbing freely with a flick to his wrists left your wet velvety walls reopen and spill with an instant orgasm. He sat in awe watching it from the get go, becoming more and more invested in making you do it again from the beginning; and he did . Each thrust of his fingers, whether he would penetrate with his fingers to your another orgasm, or if he was simply abusing your clit again to get out that wet action in front of him, it didn’t leave you stopping with disappointment. It left you stunned with you seeing stars.

You never knew you could come so many times. He made you come for the tenth time. By the time the two finished on the tenth orgasm incoming her sensitive body, the man was ready to witness the dazedly pupils rolling on the room unable to focus on him, and as did her thighs pressing together. He rubs the entire pussy in his hands as he lets go, his mouth welcomes the fingers coating with the woman’s bodily liquid. He hums satisfied, making a large ‘pop’ by pulling his fingers from his mouth once he licked them clean, not wasting any of your come.

“You taste sweet.” He boosts causing you to go feverishly red as you cover your face, biting the bottom lip in a hurry.

“Fuck. I never came that hard in my life before.” You pant. Donghyuck begins to brag to y/n, as if he took a remarkable achievement out of this. Out of you. “Of course you didn’t. Those mortals can’t satisfy your needs can they, my darling y/n?” He chides as you felt your skin prickle at the tone.

It bothers you how he’s right. No one could compare to the devil himself. You’re afraid this one lasting moment will leave you blue balled for the rest of your life until you have your judgement day. The devil himself huffs watching you stay silent, in which he took to an offence as he grabs forward your neck lifting you by only one percentage of his strength.

He stared into your lustful longing eyes, longing so deeply for him and only him; it made Donghyuck feel so good and validated to have as someone obsessed as you wanting to attain him, to rail you until you’re crying tears and it doesn’t bother him or you.

“You can admit it. Tell me how no one else can satisfy you like i do.”

He deepens, watching your mouth slip open.

“We just gotten started. I can’t answer that without evidence.” You murmur though it all came down to your plan of teasing the entity in which you will soon realise you shouldn’t of done that; but did you regret it in the future? Absolutely not. The way your ignorant words shot him and his damn ego, clenching his jaw at you, he smirks balling the tongue at the corner of his cheek. He drops you down on the bed where he stands up.

The man walks over to the end frame of the bed. With a grab to your first, out of thin air he teleports a pair of handcuffs in the same palm; attaching your left wrist to the bed frame and so did he with your right wrist to the bedroom frame too.

He looks at you with a proud expression that left you far more exposed again, wide legs open as your arms were tugging on the metallic objects resisting you from moving. He gals at you like black petrol dangerously surrounding you at a pool helplessly.

“I will make you eat your words.” He bleats.

With y/n’s hands restrained above the bed structured frame, spread and ready to take the lengthy cock belonging to the one and only devil, you came to a realisation quickly once the burning pain stretches with sheer girth out the velvety slimy walls. Thank god he made you come so many times otherwise you would’ve struggled much more, a mere tip had you gripping nothing but air . Digging own fingertips in your skin to the point of scrapping it with blood. Himself, Donghyuck couldn’t help but let out a satisfying hum run out his open mouth gaping down as he watches himself bulk in your body like it was made for him. The way he saw a shadow of his cock buried deep in you just on your stomach, made his eyes roll backwards in his head. You bite down on your lip, eyeing him up and down, he looks back at you with a reflective expression.

For a moment. Y/n swore she saw a flash of emotions run on Donghyuck’s face, making her heart skip a beat when the man’s face crashed forward. Whispering a string of praises.

“Hell’s sake, you’re made to take my cock my beautiful soul. You’re doing so well.” He beams watching you take every inch inside. As you should be.

You whine leaning back on the pillows. “More. Please more. I want you to move.”

He grins at the way you’re pleading a list of desires straightforwardly, all because of getting dick tonight, in a way this was possibly the most fun desire he has committed and probably the most intimate. Never in his lifetime (that he’s lived in so far) would he thought he’s involving himself in a situation with a mortal involving sex. It would be a lie to say, he isn’t enjoying it because he very much is enjoying it way more than he thought he would.

“I’m going to indulge a little bit then.” He tells you obediently doing as you told him to. Who was he to say no to you when you’re out here commanding so passionately?

Rocking the hips inwards with ramming motions flicking the air side to side with every thrust going inside you, pushing in more inches of his cock, your body reacts by jolting upwards at the first sensation of almost resembling ripping in half. The more pain the more addictive the pleasure came later, quick overtaking your radioactive brain on focus mode; your mouth drops open, as did your eyes wide as day seeing heaven in on your bedroom ceiling. You pray the lord himself isn’t watching you from above the holy gates, so he couldn’t see how slut out you are for the inhuman entity in front of you, rambling on such cursing words that would entice anyone on. You confess in your head, mentally prepping yourself to seek forgiveness afterwards. But would you want to seek forgiveness when you have this deep feeling in the deep darkness pits of your stomach that you’re most likely going to repeat this situation again… or perhaps even long and pray for Donghyuck again.

Every little movement meant so much to you, you felt everything ten times thousandth fold. The senses heighten and you weren’t sure if it was because of how good Donghyuck is railing your body like there will be no tomorrow for you to see daylight, as if he was planning to ruin you completely, like you were god’s most favourite human in this realm and he was messing you up to be corrupted so he can laugh at the man’s face for taking something so valuable. In other words, he wasn’t leaving until he makes you physically unable to walk again.

In the missionary position with a final thrust forward he stops, suddenly causing you to reopen your eyes to look right at him. The man lifts both of your legs up, folding them in half towards his chest where he brings himself up just a bit, resting above you. Somehow in this position it felt more feral, he felt more animalistic, because this way you felt him press on an area inside you that he didn’t quite hit in the previous position. You gasp once the rough fisting tip of his cock jabs forward repeatedly, making your body squirm.

Million electrical charges run on your bed. Donghyuck has pressed your head down on the pillow, as he continues to fuck into you his large springs of come, painting the inside of your womb white like it were snowing. You grasp palms tightly as you fidget on the metallic handcuffs on the bed frame, small blood running out of your palm as you were scratching and pinching it from the amount of pleasure he was giving you at once, without a merciful thought to you.

He didn’t spare you any kindness and why would he? The man looks down at you with sweaty bangs, a lustful red-eyes glowing right at you, those same dangerous horrific eyes that will give you hauntingly nightmares every night forever . The devil watches how your chest pumps for oxygen, he can hear the raging heartbeat going haywire and he loves it. Donghyuck darkly watching you like you were one of his victims he has killed before.

You’re just like the rest of them. One of the thousands mortals that sold their soul to him for something in return. But he has One Thousand Desires waiting just for you.

No one else can have them only you…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu!! Reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out <33

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

A Beautiful Mind

Title: A Beautiful Mind

Summary: You had begged Kol not to put you to sleep. You had told him of the sights that haunted your nightmares - red lights and black water. He never could have guessed that the safest place for you would turn out to be the most dangerous. Three Doors Down - Part Three || Kol x Disabled!reader || Here are parts one and two || Here lies my Masterlist

Word Count: 10,000

Warnings: Fear of drowning, talk about death, violence, blood. Oh, also a weird as all frick dream sequence - it's not supposed to make sense, just keep that in mind.

A/N: Fun Fact, this fic originally started as a self-insert because I actually live with hearing loss and speech aphasia. So to everyone who has been supportive of this mini-series, I just wanted to say thank you. Enjoy this finale, I hope it lives up to expectations.

Checking his watch for what was surely the millionth time that day, Kol tore his hands through his hair, cursing under his breath as he leaned his head back against the wall of his broom-closet prison. Waiting was torture; each minute felt like an eternity and the space wasn't even big enough for him to stretch his legs out all the way. He was so hungry. Bloody hell! He was starving! There were so many warm bodies in the rooms surrounding him. Oh, what he wouldn't give to sink his teeth into just one - any of them would do, yet there was a certain one he couldn't seem to take his mind off of. Try as he might, she was all Kol could think about. Y/N. Her dry wit, her dazzling smile, her quiet strength, her captivating eyes, her perfect lips, her soft skin… her blood. 

Warm and thick and-

No! 

Stop. Don't go there.

Kol groaned, drawing his knees up to his chest in a vain effort to relieve just a fraction of the excruciating pain in his stomach. He couldn't stop thinking about her, no matter what he tried. Where was Y/N by now? Probably in Mystic Falls already. The thought pained him - she shouldn't be anywhere near that wretched town. She should have been with him. 

He didn't care if it made him weak, Kol wanted her back. He just wanted her back, safe and sound. He just wanted to have her back so he could make her laugh and smile in that adorable way that made him want to smile too. He wanted to hold her, and kiss her, and feel her, and… and… He wanted to listen to her heart race and he wanted to bury his teeth into her tender flesh. She'd been so good the first time, she hadn't fought him and she'd tasted divine. The memory made his mouth water. Her blood - hot and thick and sweet like candy. He'd stopped too soon, far too soon. He should have had more when he had the chance. Bloody hell, he could still taste her on his tongue. Sweet. So sweet. Sweet like candy…

NO! 

STOP IT! 

STOP!

NOT HER!

He didn't want that, he didn't want to think about her that way. Kol didn't want to hurt her! Because that girl was a lot like him - she had lost parts of herself, things she could never get back. Just like him. Except Kol hadn't had anyone to take comfort in. So for Y/N, he wanted to be the person he'd never had - his way of flipping off the cosmos, perhaps. 

And why shouldn't he? After all that had been stolen from him, after all the injustices and pointless suffering, the universe owed him this much. Cliche as it sounded, Y/N was a light in the dark, radiating joy and enthusiasm like a fire gives off heat. She didn't care about his looks or his charm. He didn't have to do anything to be of worth - just being himself was enough for her. The attention she gave him was free of ulterior motives, and like a starved child, he wanted it all to himself. He didn't mean to be possessive and he would never do anything to harm or disrespect that girl, or keep her from happiness. He adored her! But that was the problem. Kol just didn't know how to let go. One thousand years had been so long, and he'd been so alone. He deserved someone like Y/N. Yet the universe in its infinite cruelty still sought to take her away.

It wasn't fair!

That was why he'd bitten her. 

He hadn't wanted to hurt her, but the alternative was worse. If he hadn't done something drastic, she would have gone back to her life in Denver. The thought of Y/N living her life without him? The chance she might one day fall in love with someone else? He couldn't stand it. He hadn't even known her that long - hardly a week but every day of that week, she had knocked on his door and greeted him with a smile and a hug to say good morning. How could he give that up?

Kol had fed on her because he wanted to keep her. He thought about her because he was worried and he missed her. But the monster under his skin couldn't tell the difference, and it didn't really care to. It just kept torturing him with memories of her blood on his tongue. 

Kol checked his watch and cursed.

All that for eight bloody minutes.

He had to give it to the Gilbert siblings, they were nothing if not persistent and, unfortunately, they weren't entirely brainless. According to the elder Salvatore's gloating, they had gotten their Bennet witch to temporarily deactivate his daylight ring - a feat he would have been impressed by had he not already spent nine and a half hours trapped in a closet because of it. (For all that witch lacked in skill and knowledge, she made up for it in raw power.) Eight floors worth of windowed hallways stood between him and the building's exit. He could get out if he tried and he would survive the journey, but it would be excruciating and ultimately pointless as his car did not have specially treated windows and attempting to drive whilst he burned alive wasn't exactly feasible.

Now, Kol was well aware that despite appearances, Y/N was far from helpless - she'd proven that much. However, she wouldn't be able to hold her own against Niklaus. By taking their cousin to Mystic Falls, the Gilberts might as well simply hand-deliver Y/N right into Klaus' hands. If Kol's brother realized how he could use that girl… Kol didn't even want to imagine what the hybrid would do.

Klaus would hurt her.

Kol didn't want to see Y/N hurt.

Bloody hell, he felt awful. He'd promised to protect her and he'd failed spectacularly. Y/N was probably terrified. Kol wished he could help her. He wished he could just see her, but he couldn't!

Unless he could…

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, resting his head against the wall. Calming his mind was difficult, it always had been for him; thoughts tended to race through his mind like gale-force winds and that was on a good day. Now his psyche was plagued with images he'd rather not see, predictions of a future he could only pray he had the power to stop - that frail, bubbly girl sprawled on the ground, drained of the life she gave so freely, and the ground around her stained red, red, red. The worst part was knowing he might be the one to make her that way. He was so hungry.

Kol dragged his hands through his hair and let loose a string of curses. He needed to find her, but to do so required him to focus on the present and at the moment he could do anything but. Perhaps this was how Y/N often felt, reaching for something she knew she possessed, yet always coming up short. That was when she'd start doing all those adorable nervous ticks he loved so much. Kol pictured her - the way she'd snap her fingers and bounce on her toes, biting her lip just right and every time she did so it made him want to kiss her senseless. That thought made him smile and he caught hold of it. Pushing away the fear and hunger, he leaned his head back and reached out, letting that radiant vision guide him to the girl he'd come to adore.

"Alright, darling," He muttered. "Where are you?"

Y/N was dreaming. Her magnificent light was easy to distinguish; the way her cognizance flickered and danced, out of sync with the other mortal minds populating the world, was beautiful. It was something he'd never seen before, yet more familiar to him somehow than he'd thought possible. Kol focused on that light, let it envelop him in an embrace that felt as warm and genuine as the girl it came from, and then he was falling backward into a dream that wasn't his. 

He saw black at first and started walking, his hand soon meeting a wall which he used to guide himself down what he quickly discovered to be a hallway of some kind. The gentle notes of piano chords could be heard playing from somewhere ahead of him and he moved along the hall towards the sound. A dim light flickered to life over his head, barely illuminating the few feet in front of him - the rest of the hall remained black as pitch. Kol glanced up to watch as the light wavered and changed, the dull glow began to oscillate between colors. 

Red to blue. 

Then white.

To red.

To blue.

To red.

To blue.

Then white.

Then red.

The colors continued to shift and Kol frowned. He remembered Y/N had said something about lights as he'd compelled her to sleep. She'd begged him not to, mumbling some gibberish about red lights and black water. What had she meant by that? What made it important enough to mention in her last moments of wakefulness? Kol didn't know, and he hated not knowing. 

Although, now that there was some light to be had, Kol noticed that there were doorways lining each side of the corridor - a mental maze of sorts - except this one was different than any he'd traversed before. In Y/N's mind, the doors did not stay put. He watched as these gateways to her memories faded in and out of existence, seemingly at random.

He grimaced. Whatever happened next was bound to be interesting.

"Y/N!" He raised his voice and shouted down the corridor. "YN, it's me - it's Kol! Can you hear me?" 

There was no response - just more piano notes sounding from the dark expanse ahead of him. It seemed forward was the only stable direction he could go, so he started moving and the light moved with him, maintaining its position over his head. 

After what seemed like hours of walking, Kol arrived at the hallway's end. A simple dark green door, the same as the one she'd resided behind in Denver - three doors down from his - stood in front of him. The chords of a piano drifted from beyond it, louder and stronger now that he was so close. 

Kol paused. Should he knock? Before he could decide, he was stopped by the sound of an unfamiliar voice intertwining with the music emanating from behind the door. 

"Y/N, dinner's ready!"

The warmth was what startled him. The warmth and the love that he could feel radiating from the memory just beyond that door was baffling. It was something entirely mundane - as ordinary and as common as grass - but the sound made Kol smile because it was something he'd never really had. 

"Y/N/N? You gonna come down? It's time to eat, sweetheart!"

That voice could only belong to a mother - one who loved her child with all her heart and soul - and just for a moment, Kol let himself bask in the sound.

He moved to touch the door's handle and a blinding light erupted in front of him, engulfing his senses in white. The next moment, Kol stumbled forward into what must have been a teenage Y/N's bedroom.

The setup was nothing extraordinary. There was a bed, a dresser, a nightstand - just the basics. The only feature truly of note was the antique piano and the girl sitting in front of it. Once again, her beauty stunned him. Those perfectly sweet, kissable lips, that small but tempting figure, and those wide, vulnerable eyes - so open and genuine - that made him want to hold her tight and never let go. Especially now, when those eyes were filled with sorrow and tears. 

Her fingers expertly stroked the piano's old yet well-kept keys, turning out a blissful, dream-like melody, though her face displayed an altogether different set of emotions. Kol could read the desperate frustration in her clenched and grinding teeth and the dreadful sorrow in the line of her brow and the glistening in her eyes.

"Y/N? Are you alright up there?" 

The piano music stopped and Y/N began to cry. The sight tugged at Kol's heart - to see someone he knew was so much stronger than she looked break down in tears was heart wrenching. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how. Emotions were messy things and he'd never been very good at handling his own, let alone anyone else's, but for Y/N he was willing to try. He moved with a certain degree of caution over to the piano and sat down on the bench beside her. The girl's tears were quiet little things - not the kind she would want to share much about but he could try anyway. He tapped his fingers against his knees, unsure of what to say.

"Why are you crying?" He asked gently, hoping his mere presence wouldn't frighten her. The girl straightened and wiped her tears but didn't turn to him.

"Had a… had-had a, um… a bad day." She shrugged. Her voice held little emotion. "Lots of yesterday-ays ago. O-okay now… all g-one."

Reliving an old memory wasn't uncommon, he supposed. Although, most people he'd dream walked with weren't aware they were dreaming until they woke up. Perhaps lucid dreams were another side effect of Y/N's strange mind. 

"I see." He nodded. "Hello, Y/N."

She smiled slightly and hummed in return. She didn't seem to be in the talking mood and that only made this harder. Kol tentatively touched her hand - he just wanted her to look at him but she didn't. She just tugged on his hand and placed it on her thigh so she could play with his rings, slipping them off to examine each one. It was almost painful to watch her, not knowing what she was thinking and she wouldn't talk to him - for the love of Thor - she wouldn't even look at him! He had a thousand things he wanted to say but none of them were helpful.

"So… what about now? Are you alright?" It was pathetic, but it was the best he could come up with.

She shook her head.

Kol's eyes darkened. "Did they hurt you?" He forced the words out through clenched teeth.

She shook her head again and he relaxed a little.

"Do you…" He hesitated. "- want to talk about it? Believe it or not, I actually have some experience with being rendered unconscious by members of my family." That actually got a reaction out of her.

Y/N's hands stilled and she turned her head slowly to stare at him. "What the hell?" She mouthed silently. Her expression was a perfect picture of baffled confusion and it took quite a bit of willpower on his part not to laugh. Though he couldn't refrain from cracking a smile. 

He shrugged. "I have weird siblings. What can I say?" He would tell her the disturbing truth later. For now, he made light of it. The corners of Y/N's lips twitched up, trying to smile while the rest of her expression turned even more bewildered. 

"That-that's not-" She stammered, at a loss for words. Kol placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

"This isn't a laughing matter, darling. My family takes the game of croquet very seriously!" Humor as medicine was an excellent strategy and his appeared to be working. Y/N snickered, rolling her eyes. "Ah, ah! What did I say about laughing?" He playfully chastised.

"Mm-mm -" She hummed, shaking her head as she fought to keep the grin off her face. "- I-I-I not… I'm not laugh-aughing."

"Really?" He smirked. "What's this then?" Kol poked her in the ribs and Y/N jumped, letting go of a little squeal. "What was that?" He poked her again in a slightly different spot and she twisted, grinning. "What was that, Y/N? Was that a giggle?"

Upon realizing his new plan, her eyes flew wide and she slapped his hand away. "Uh, uh! Nope!" She held up a finger as if as a warning.

"Are you sure?" He drawled, squeezing her thigh. She pushed that hand away too and shifted away from him.

"Uh, huh. Yeah." She nodded. Kol sighed, shrugging - letting her believe she'd won. 

"Nah, I don't believe you."

He poked at her again and Y/N giggled as she jumped back in an attempt to dodge his assault. She very nearly fell off the bench, but caught herself at the last second and stood, backing away from him with a smile on her face. Kol grinned and followed, shifting into a predatory stance. Y/N tried to out maneuver him but it wasn't long before he had her backing into a corner.

"Don-don't tickle!" She said, matching his steps. 

"Surrender and I won't have to," He replied, smirking down at her. He had her fully backed into the corner, trapping her there with an arm on either side of her head. 

"Mmm-mm!" She shook her head, keeping her lips sealed to stay her laughter.

Kol sighed, overdramatic. "Then you leave me no choice but to force you." Y/N snickered and ducked under his arm but he turned swiftly and caught her by the waist, picking her up as if she weighed little more than a feather. In a blink, he'd tossed her onto the bed and climbed over her, attacking her sides without mercy. Y/N squealed with laughter as he found her sweet-spot, she giggled and squirmed but couldn't escape. The sound of her laughter was the most joyful thing Kol had ever heard. "Being adorable won't save you, darling. You have to say it!" He declared.

"I-I sur-sur- ACK! No! No, wait! I sur-ur-en… surred-der!" She cried.

Kol grinned and moved off her, making himself comfortable on the bed as he watched her catch her breath.

"Uh, F- uh… F- you," She grumbled.

"Please," He hummed, grinning cheekily. The girl rolled her eyes and smacked his chest. He laughed, catching her hand before she could pull it back and tangling their fingers together.

"In- in your d-dreaming," She chuckled.

"Yours, actually," He pointed out.

Y/N sent him a look. "No."

"I'm just saying-"

"Kol…"

"Why not? It'll pass the time! I've still got another six hours till the sun goes down and I can get out of this closet, and who knows how long it will be until you wake up," He reasoned. Y/N just snorted, shaking her head. "You really should be more open to new experiences, darling. Didn't your parents ever teach you that?" 

He turned to watch her with a proud grin, his obnoxious attitude having won a full-on laugh from the girl. She closed her eyes and shifted closer. Her cheeks were tinged with pink and it was then that he remembered just how hungry he was. It wasn't his fault. Her flushed cheeks just looked so appetizing, even in a dream, and her heartbeat pounded deliciously in his ears. His smile faded and his eyes drifted to the artery pulsing in her neck.

"Ko-l?" 

"Hmm?" He forced himself to tear his eyes away - to look at her. 

Y/N was watching him with caution, one brow raised. "You okay-ay?" She asked. She was an observant girl. He really needed to learn how to keep his hunger in check. Before now, he'd never had a reason to.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He replied, forcing a smile. 

She saw right through him, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Hungry?" 

Kol nodded, unable to meet her eyes. He wasn't ashamed of what he was - not anymore. He was ashamed that he allowed her blood to tempt him. He was 1,000 years old, he should have been better than this. "I'm sorry. It's just been a while since I… Well, since I had anything to eat, and let's just say I've never been the best at curbing my appetite," He admitted. She deserved the truth. His truth wasn't pretty.

Y/N blinked. "O-oh…" She cleared her throat and shifted her gaze to the ceiling.

And now he'd freaked her out, good on him.

"B-but this is a dream," He quickly added, trying to reassure Y/N somewhat. "I can't hurt you in here, not really. You're safe."

The girl nodded slowly but her lips remained pressed together and her eyes stayed fixed overhead. 

He sat up a little, looking over her with concern. "Darling?" He tried. She turned her head, refusing to look at him. A flash of something painful ripped through his heart and he touched her arm. "Wait, Y/N/N. Please don't do that. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise you're safe, I promise I won't do anything… I-I'm not a monster. I-I promise."

She turned back, looking up at him with those stunning E/C eyes. "Ca-an you?" She whispered. 

"Can I… what?"

"Pr-prom-omise that," She said. "Keep it?" 

He wanted to answer yes, immediately and without a doubt, but the truth was he didn't really know. All Kol knew was that he needed her in his life and that he'd be willing to do almost anything to keep her in it. This sensation he felt when he looked at her wasn't something he knew how to deal with - it felt a little bit like the hunger he was so familiar with, but it wasn't painful. She looked so beautiful from this angle, with her hair all spread out around her head, like a haloed angel. He couldn't help but think back to two nights before - the life in her eyes, how she had felt beneath him, so soft and warm. He craved her presence in every moment and he knew that it was selfish, selfish, selfish. Kol had never tried to control himself before and it was a lot harder than he'd thought anything could be. It was selfish of him to put her in that sort of danger, but he just couldn't help it. He needed her. So he would try his best to keep her safe, especially from himself.

"Anything for you," He murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He couldn't resist leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. He loved the way she smiled. 

Her eyes left his and she reached up to play with his necklace - nothing special, just a stone with a few sigils carved into it attached to a black cord. He'd made the thing when he was human… so maybe it was a little special. 

"Does it… being, uh… being… being here? No, not-not that one… Um… being, um…" She snapped her fingers. Kol had no idea what she was trying to say so he stayed silent, watching her bite her lip and wishing she would let him do that for her. "Does… Does being, uh… close! Yeah, close! Does being close… close t-to me  w-when, uh, when you're hun-hungry… does it hur-rt?"

The girl had been kidnapped twice in thirty six hours and she was still worried about him. What an angel. He smiled softly, stroking her cheek.

"A little bit," Kol admitted. "But you're worth it, and I'll be okay." He laid back down - looking down on her like that was just too tempting. "What about you?" He wondered, changing the subject. "You have been handling all this remarkably well."

The girl nodded, shrugging. "S-scared and lot-lots of wor-ords," She said. "But okay."

He raised a brow. "You mean questions?"

"Uh, huh. Yeah."

"Well, go ahead and ask, darling. We've got plenty of time." He grinned.

"Quest-estion one-" She started. "What the hell?"

Kol barked a laugh. "Understandable. Would you like to hear what the hell from the beginning or just the reader's digest?"

"A-all the hell," She deadpanned.

"Are you sure? That's quite the long story, love," He warned, grimacing slightly.

Y/N raised a brow. "How, uh… how-how many y-years?"

"How old am I?" He clarified. She nodded. "I'm nearly one thousand years old." Her eyes flew wide. "Although, physically I'm eighteen," He added quickly.

"Huh…" That was all she had to say.

"That doesn't upset you, does it?" He asked hopefully, taking her hand in his and stroking his thumb over the back of it to calm her.

She swallowed thickly and blinked, shaking her head. "I'm-I'm good."

"Still want to hear the whole story?"

She nodded. "Lis-listen-ening."

Kol sighed. "Better get comfy then, this'll take awhile."

The girl snickered and sat up, reaching over him to grab something - a stuffed Y/F/A plush - before settling with her head resting on his chest. She never ceased to surprise him.

Kol couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Hesitantly, he slipped his arm around her back. "Is this alright?" 

She huffed a laugh and grabbed his other hand, placing it on her waist. Well, if she was okay with it… He tugged her closer and shifted her body so she was practically on top of him. She was warm. He missed being warm.

"Get-get on with, uh, with it," She joked, smiling.

"Alright, alright! Someone's pushy," He grumbled playfully. "I will warn you though, the Chronicles of Baby-Kol are, uh… well, they're a bit of a tear-jerker, so be ready."

"Okay."

Kol took a deep breath, and then he told her everything.

***

Alright, so 'what the hell' from beginning to end turned out to be a lot more than you had thought, but you listened to every word and tried your best to understand. First, he decided to tell you about the curse on his brother. He told you of your cousin Elena's magical blood which was needed to break that curse. Kol made it rather clear that he would not be involved in all the drama if not for the threat on his life. He also made sure to tell you about Stefan and Damon Salvatore - two vampire brothers competing for Elena's favor - as the latter of whom had aided in your abduction.

"I'll kill them both if you want me to, darling. Just say the word and they're dead," He offered, only half joking which was frightening though you'd never admit it.

You shook your head. "No. No dead-ed-ing," You said. "Who can I tri-ick? Which-which one?"

Kol groaned. "Y/N, love, I say this because I care about you… But, for the love of Odin, please don't do anything stupid?" You opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to it. "They are ten times stronger and faster than you. Don't provoke them."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Trick them," You insisted. "Tr-trick! Use it, um, use pity!"

"I thought you said you hate it when people pity you?" Kol said, raising a brow. 

You shrugged. "Gets things."

Kol grinned. "You, darling, are a little two faced devil and I love it." He laughed and pressed a kiss to your hair. "The younger of the two - the one who looks like he's the main character - he'll be the easiest to fool."

You nodded and bit your lip. All this information was great, but not what you truly wanted to know. So you asked the question that had been weighing on your mind since Kol had buried his fangs in your neck. You tapped his chest gently. "How?" You whispered. "How did this, um… br-ring? No, no…"

Kol sighed heavily. "You want to know how I became this, don't you?" You nodded. "I'd hoped you'd give up on that."

"Have to," You said, somewhat apologetic. "Have to know." 

You had to know his past - his reasons. You needed to know why you were here and why he was here with you. You were important to him, even though you weren't sure why, but you could tell that he was trying very hard not to scare you off. Why was he so determined? What did you mean to him?

"I know you do." He cradled you closer and sighed again.

You were good at reading people, you always had been because you had needed to be. So you knew that Kol wasn't being entirely honest with you - he was holding something back. He was lying. Kol was manipulating you to keep you around… and you decided, for the time being, to let him. You knew it was the only way to figure out the truth. People told you more when they didn't think they were telling you anything, and Kol thought he had you in the palm of his hand. It wasn't intentional or malicious, but that was the truth and you needed to figure out the reason behind it.

So you kept your head on his chest, and as he began to speak, you listened. 

"I was born of two worlds. The world of men from my father, and from my mother, the world of magic. My father's people were what yours now call the Vikings, but I, like my mother, was a witch."

Your eyes remained closed as you took note of his heartbeat, his breathing, and the vibrations of his voice. You kept track of each as he spoke, noting every change - every increase in rhythm, every struggle for breath, every fluctuation in tamber. More importantly, however, you paid attention to his hands. 

As he talked, Kol's hands began hesitantly roaming your body. He was gentle with you, and his touches were nothing short of loving. Even though you weren't entirely sure whether or not you were comfortable with being felt up, you chose not to reprimand him for it. It was pretty clear that Kol had been touch starved for most of his life, so he didn't realize everything he was telling you. Trying to figure out his past was too difficult with only the pieces he gave you verbally - he was trying to keep things from you, so you had to use every advantage. Every touch was a clue, a piece of the puzzle and you were rather good at puzzles. 

For the most part, Kol's right hand stayed in the vicinity of your head, neck and shoulders. He took to twisting and tangling your hair around the fingers of his right hand as he told you about his childhood. His early days of mayhem and magic were clearly some of his favorite memories, but you weren't sure how they related to you. Oddly enough, it was his left hand that told you more as he was right hand dominant and thus paid less attention to his other hand.

"Don't laugh, but we had werewolves for neighbors. Everything would have been fine if Niklaus hadn't taken Henrick out to watch them turn."

Kol trailed his hand from your waist over your hip and then down to your thigh. 

"When they came back, Henrick wasn't alive anymore."

His hands stilled and his voice turned distant. He wasn't over the death of his younger brother.

"My parents were devastated. So they elected to do the unthinkable. My mother cast a spell to make us immortal and bound it within us using wine laced with blood."

You found it strange that his voice was so apathetic and devoid of emotion. It was hard to tell whether he was angry or hurting just from his tone because it didn't change much, he kept his voice carefully controlled.

"I didn't realize what my mother had done to us until it was too late," He said. Kol slipped his hand beneath your shirt and you tried not to flinch, just let him caress the skin of your waist. "And I-I tried to run, I tried to warn them - I promise I did - but I-I just wasn't fast enough." He shifted uncomfortably and his right arm tugged you closer to him. "My father caught me. I thought I could outrun him. I ran as fast as I could. 'Kept trying to go faster. But I couldn't and-and then I…" He stopped and you gently pulled yourself away from him, opening your eyes.

You weren't lying on your bed anymore, the ground was dirt and the walls of your room were no longer standing. Instead you were surrounded by shadows and trees. You looked down at Kol and his eyes were far away, his expression drawn tight with fear. He was terrified.

"Wh-what seen n-next?" You asked quietly, hesitantly. You wanted to ask what had happened, but it seemed your brain was no more cooperative than usual. You weren't entirely sure you wanted to know.

Kol shook his head, eyes unfocused. "I-I didn't even know he was there until I felt it…" He whispered. He sounded so young. So scared. "I couldn't hear him behind me. I-I didn't know! If I had, I would have done something, but I didn't, and then… Then he…" The boy trailed off.

"K-ol?"

He closed his eyes and laughed. The sound came from deep in his chest and it wasn't happy at all. When he opened his eyes they were black as pitch. He looked right at you, his right hand moving to cup your cheek. He watched you for a moment, a faint smile gracing his face. Then he leaned up and captured your lips with his and you let him. His kiss was harsh and rough and needy. Kol slid his tongue over your bottom lip, asking you for permission. You denied him because he simply wasn't thinking straight, something was wrong. Kol pulled away, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against yours. 

"Please, Y/N?" He whispered pleadingly. "I-I need you." He tugged on your shirt. "I need you right now."

"N-no." You shook your head. "I-I can't… You're n-not o-okay… you're not-."

"Not good enough? Is that what you mean?" His voice sounded so pained. "Or is it because I'm not human?"

"No! No, no… Kol I-" You sighed. "Not that. Like you, um, I-I like you… but-but I…" 

"What's so wrong with me?" His lips ghosted over yours as he shook his head. "Why am I more broken than you?"

"Not, Kol! You-you're not!" You wanted to tell him that he was scaring you. You wanted to ask him why he was behaving this way, but you couldn't get the words to come out. "You're sca-ring me."

"Good," Kol said, petting your side. His eyes weren't black, you realized. They were blood red. "You should be scared of me." 

Then his lips were on yours, kissing you so ferociously that you knew he had no intention of stopping. He squeezed your waist and you let out a gasp of pain as his fingers dug into your flesh. But he didn't care. It was like he couldn't even hear you. He sat up with you on his lap but that wasn't enough for him. Suddenly, you were the one one the ground and Kol was hovering over you. There was something wild and desperate in those blood red eyes. Something mad.

"You want to know what happened next, Y/N?" He spoke, his voice like matted silk. "Just look around. This is the spot where it happened - a recreation of it anyway because I'll never forget." He glanced around, admiring the place. Why was his voice so emotionless?! Then his eyes snapped back to you. They were cold. His voice was soft. 

"He murdered us, Y/N," Kol said, stroking your cheek in a way that would have been loving had it not been so frigid. Even when he'd been standing with his arms around you in a crushing grip, greedily draining mouthful after mouthful of your blood, you had never been truly scared of Kol. But now, laying beneath him, completely at his mercy - now you were terrified. "He murdered us, and we all died. Finn slit his wrists because mother told him to. Elijah tried to stop our father from beating Niklaus to death, but he failed and they bled out together. Rebekah died in her sleep, her throat slit by our father's hunting knife. In some twisted way I think he was proud of me. See, I died on my feet. Alone. Here in these woods. My father drove his sword through my heart." Beneath your shirt, Kol moved his hand. He rested it over your heart, tapping lightly. "Right here… and it hurt." He drew his finger in a circle, just grazing your skin. Kol's hands were as cold as death. You knew because you remembered what death had felt like. You tried not to move.

"He killed me!" The boy choked. "He killed me, Y/N! I'm dead!" His voice quieted. He blinked. "Yes, I'm quite dead…" 

Both of you were dead. 

The cold of his hands sank into your bones and took you away. It was so cold. You shivered. Kol grinned and his fangs slid out, ready to tear into your throat. 

You hardly noticed when someone threw him off you.

A familiar voice cried your name.

"Y/N, RUN!"

But you didn't.

You were already drowning.

You were all alone and all you could see was black water and red lights. You were sinking, deeper and deeper beneath the surface. Water filled your lungs and you couldn't breathe! The black water froze your skin and burned your lungs as you desperately tried to claw your way to the surface. The red lights only drew further away from you. All you could do was sink lower, and lower. You couldn't breathe.

You closed your eyes and you were-

Back in your room?

You were back where you had begun. Standing in your room. Across from you stood Kol. His eyes were back to normal - that sweet as chocolate brown - but they were fixed on his feet and he played with his fingers nervously.

"I'm sorry about that," He said quietly. "I-I didn't realize your mind would be so excitable - so reactive to traumatic memories…" 

All the fear crashed in on you then. You screamed, backing away from the boy you'd thought you could trust. "W-hy?! Why did-did you do that to m-me?!" You didn't understand anything that was happening. 

Kol lifted his hands, trying to calm you. "No, no! Y/N/N, that wasn't me!" He claimed. "I promise that wasn't me!"

"Wh-what?!" Nothing made sense and you could still feel the water's chill. You didn't want to die again. You didn't want to drown.

"Darling, listen to me." Kol's voice drew your attention. "Your mind is playing tricks on you - on both of us. It's reacting to our fears and manifesting our nightmares."

You raised a brow, still trying to process what you had just experienced. "Wh-what's ha-happen-ening? I-I don't get! I feel cracking!" You felt shaken, out of control. It was as if there was something else moving in your mind, another force entirely. It was roiling and frothing and angry. 

The water. 

You were going to drown. You were going to die.

"Y/N, I need you to calm down!" He ordered, gritting his teeth. "Your mind is highly encourageable; it's a bit like quicksand really, the more either of us struggles, the deeper we sink," He explained. 

"So how cl-imb out?!" You demanded. Something was pulling at you. You felt light headed. 

"I'm not sure," Kol said. "But I think my worst fear is out to get you, and if that's true, then yours is only minutes behind me. We'll be in more danger the longer we remain entangled like this." 

You froze, looking up at him curiously. "You-you… fear?" You wondered. "You're afr-a-aid?" 

"Yes." Kol nodded. "Yes, that's right, I'm afraid of things too. It's alright to be afraid, love."

"What-what, uh…" You shook your head, blinking. How could he be afraid? What did he have to fear?  "What, um, sca-scares you?"

"I think you've already met it." The boy bit his lip, playing with his fingers. 

Only then did you make the connection. "Bla-lack eyes?" Kol sighed.

"It's just that I-I've, um…" He trailed off, watching you with dark eyes that had never looked so soft. "I've got this real nasty habit of breaking things…" Kol's voice was barely a whisper and you could see the tears in his eyes. "...beautiful things, things that I love - things that make me happy. I bring to desolation everything that I touch. I've done it over and over, countless times, and I'm terrified that I'll do it again." 

He looked up, meeting your eyes and you understood. Kol's worst fear was hurting you in a way you wouldn't forgive - that's what that corrupted version of him had been trying to do. Something slammed against your bedroom door - a fist pounding on wood - and you flinched. Kol's nightmare was trying to get in.

"I've seen your fears too, Y/N," The boy continued. "I've seen the red lights you told me about - the lights of the bridge you saw overhead as the current pulled you under and then the lights of emergency vehicles on your way to the hospital. I saw them."

He'd seen them. 

You were going to drown. You were going to die.

The wall behind Kol transformed into a swirling wave, rushing to flood the room. You screamed, but the impact you were bracing for never came and you felt the boy's hands on your shoulders. You glanced up. The room was as it had been - no water. "Y/N, look at me! You need to calm your mind. If you don't, then once I leave you'll be lost to horror after horror. You need to calm your mind."

But you couldn't. All you could think of was his monster's cold hands, and cold water, and red lights.

"I can't!" You cried. "I-I-I-I can-n't! I can't!"

Kol wrapped his arms around you. He was warm and you clung to him. "Shhhhhh," He whispered. "It's alright, sweet-thing. I won't let you drown."

"C-old!" You choked out. "So cold!"

"I know," He said. "I know it's cold. But I'm right here and I promise you're going to be okay."

You shook your head. You would never be okay - you were far too broken to ever be okay. "Can't f-fix my-my-mysel-f…"

Kol just held you tighter. "You don't need to fix anything, Y/N. I love you just the way you are." He combed his fingers through your hair and pulled you into his lap, pressing against you lovingly. He took your face in his hands and kissed your lips slow and soft, relishing every second of it. Then he stooped low to whisper in your ear, cradling you in his warm gentle arms. "You have a beautiful mind, darling - a powerful, extraordinary, unparalleled mind that is capable of powerful, extraordinary, and unparalleled things. You are the master of its potential, and I promise that one day these nightmares that plague you will fade. There is nothing that you are not capable of overcoming and I think I'm going to enjoy watching you rise." He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and you hugged him tighter as that lightheaded feeling increased. Your vision flooded with white and Kol's arms disappeared.

When you came around, everything was ringing. Except this time, you were pretty sure that only half of the noise could be attributed to your tinnitus. The rest you blamed on the drugs. 

You groaned. What in the Sam hill had your cousins injected you with? And how on earth had they gotten their hands on hospital grade sedatives?! They don't just sell that sort of stuff at Wal-Mart! Your cousin's extracurricular activities were becoming more and more worrisome the longer you thought about them. 

However, there was a time and a place to worry about such things and neither of those were here and now. For the moment, you needed a plan. 

Step one: Achieve mobility. (This was going to be challenging as your entire body felt like one giant block of lead.)

Step two: Ascertain your whereabouts. (You didn't think your cousins would've taken you someplace dangerous, but then again, they had kidnapped you so there was no telling what they might decide to do next.)

Step three: Negotiate your freedom. (If their willingness to jump to extreme methods was anything to go by, then any attempt to convince your cousins that Kol had merely been trying to protect you might not go over too well. So perhaps it would just be best to convince them that you were free from his wacky mind control whatever-that's-called. )

Step Four: Expect negotiations to go sour. (Elena and Jeremy didn't seem very open-minded about whatever was happening here and words had never been your strength. Hope for the best, expect the worst, right?)

Step Five: Escape via any means necessary. (While peaceful methods would be the prefered option, family or not, use of violent force would also be tolerable. Kol had said that the vampire with the hero hair was the most likely to grossly underestimate you, so you figured he was your ticket.)

Step Six: Find Kol and run. (Kol wanted to keep you safe, that you were sure of. While it was true that he wasn't exactly stable, you were important to him and for now that seemed to be your best advantage. Elena and Jeremy had other priorities and common sense dictated that you side with the possibly ancient vampire over your teenage cousins.)

The surface you were sprawled out on was luxuriously soft - softer than a cloud -  thus your will to get moving was rather illusive. With more difficulty than you thought reasonable, you sat up, scrubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. You had to blink rapidly for a few moments so your eyes could adjust to the bright sunlight streaming into the room from the window on your right, but once you could see, you found yourself in an extravagant albeit entirely unfamiliar bedroom. You had visited your cousins before and this was not their house. Such knowledge was somewhat unnerving, but you kept yourself calm regardless.

Step one and two down. Time for three and four. 

First, however, you needed to find a weapon. Hope for the best, expect the worst, and you didn't actually expect negotiating your way out of this to work, but it was worth a shot. Managing to clamber to your feet without making any sort of noise was a bit of a challenge but it didn't take you too long. Kol had informed you of the enhanced senses vampires possessed; lucky for you, you had spent your whole life perfecting the art of going unnoticed. 

Shuffling forward, you carefully made your way over to the dresser that sat pushed against the far wall. Upon it, rested a large, bronze candlestick. You weren't sure why anyone in the twenty-first century would still have a candlestick in their room, but for the moment you simply thanked heaven for people with weird decoration preferences. Grinning, you swiped the candlestick from the dresser and weighed it in your hands. It was frickin' heavy. Your grin stretched wider.

Unfortunately, the candlestick was too long for you to successfully conceal it beneath your clothing. So, sliding back to the bed, you sat down and slipped the thing underneath your leg and then pulled the covers over yourself. You rubbed at your eyes and ruffled your hair a bit in an effort to look a tad bit more distraught, then you took a deep breath…

And screamed your ever loving lungs out.

If your cousins thought you were going to be a good little prisoner then they had another thing coming.

It wasn't long before some guy with dirty blond hair came rushing into the room, waving his hands in a placating gesture while he said a bunch of words you couldn't discern in an attempt to get you to stop screaming. Faking absolute terror wasn't too hard as you were actually rather unsettled by the situation as a whole, however, you did feel a little bad because the dude in front of you seemed pretty close to hysterics himself. You decided to take it easy on him and snap your mouth shut abruptly, staring at him with eyes as wide as quarters. He let out a nearly comical sigh of relief and took a step closer.

Naturally, you started screaming again.

The poor man jumped and scrambled back, putting his finger to his lips and again trying to calm you. He kept apologizing over and over but you figured that acting like a total wreck would benefit you most so you continued your mindless shrieking. His expression turned pleading and he clasped his hands together in earnest.

You took pity on him and shut up again, looking him over. You knew instantly that this must have been Stefan Salvatore. Kol had been absolutely right - the guy really did look like a main character of something.

He opened his mouth to talk. "I'm not going to hurt you," He said slowly. He over pronounced his words so you could read them off his lips. Then he pointed at the bedside table. "We charged those for you."

You blinked, watching him with distrustful eyes before sparing the briefest glance to where he was pointing. Resting in a charging port, were your hearing aids and you silently thanked every deity you knew of that they had survived through two kidnappings. You snatched them up and put them on, keeping your eyes on Stefan the whole time. 

When your hearing aids beeped to life, sound returned to your world and escape seemed that much more possible.

"Uh, hi." Stefan waved awkwardly. "Can you, um… can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah," You said, letting your voice shake.

"Good! Great! That's, uh, that's really… great…" He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, um, I'm Stefan and, uh… this is, uh, my-my house… and… I really hoped your cousins would be back by now." He kept talking really slowly and offered you a sheepish smile. Bless his soul, he was trying so hard. You almost felt bad for him.

"W-where is-is Jer-r-emy? El-en-en-na? Where gone?!" You demanded, hugging yourself for extra pity points. 

"I'm a friend of Elena's," Stefan said, trying to reassure you. "She asked me to watch out for you while she and Jeremy went to go put their stuff back at their place. They're really worried about you, uh… Y/N… It is Y/N, right?" He asked quickly. You nodded. 

"Don't, uh, don't under-s-stan-and!" You hiccuped.

"I know you're scared, but you're safe here. I promise," He said. You looked up at him with curious, vulnerable eyes. He continued, "Elena told me what happened. You're safe now. Kol is never gonna hurt you again." 

To hell with steps three and four; now was the perfect time to throw yourself a pity party.

You froze at the mention of Kol's name, letting your breaths turn shallow and your eyes open wide. You shook your head. "No," You whispered. "No, no, no! N-ot him! He-he was i-in my-my head! No! Ma-ake lea-ve. Can't… don't want to! Make me do things! Did-didn't want to!" Tearing your fingers through your hair and sobbing, you proceed to stutter out some incomprehensible gibberish about being scared out of your wits.

It seemed to do the trick.

Stefan's eyes flew wide and he did that thing with his hands again, looking as if he were trying to calm a spooked horse. "Hey, hey! Shhhhhh. Y/N, shhhhhh. It's okay! I'll call Elena, yeah? I'll-I'll call Elena and-and you can, uh, you can talk to her about all this. Alright? Does that sound good?"

You just nodded, pretending to cry. This was going to be much easier than you'd thought.

Stefan paced around the room, holding his phone to his ear. "Hey, Elena. Uh, your cousin is up and, uh, I-" He glanced back at you. "-I can't understand a word she's trying to say. You think you could get back here? Soon?" He paused, listening. "Well 'cause she's so… different! I don't know how to deal with this!" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You waited until his back was turned, tightening your grip on the candlestick still hidden under your leg. Soundlessly, you slipped out of the bed and crept up behind him, raising the candlestick high over your head. 

"Thanks," He said into the phone. He moved to hang up. This was your chance.

Without giving any sort of warning, you brought the heavy bronze down on Stefan's skull as hard as you could.

A sickening crack echoed through the air and he grunted, swaying for a moment before he collapsed to his knees. The phone slipped from his fingers but you caught it and hung up before it too could hit the floor. Stefan groaned and lifted his head, squinting up at you, his face a picture of confusion.

"How…" 

You just shrugged, brushing some hair from your face before Spartan kicking Stefan in the chest. The force of the impact sent him toppling over onto his back. Feeling no remorse whatsoever, you stepped on both his hands to keep him pinned. Blood from your first blow dripped down the candlestick, slickening the shaft. You adjusted your grip and raised the weapon over your head again. With a scream of effort, you bashed the candlestick over his head four more times, until you were satisfied that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

Pushing the hair from your face with a bloodied hand, you stood, patting Stefan on the knee. It was nothing personal - he had just made the same mistake as far too many others. You were damaged, it was true; where people went wrong was thinking that damaged meant the same thing as helpless. It didn't. 

Wiping Stefan's blood on your pants, you left the room. You were no stranger to blood - the sight of it had stopped making you queasy a long time ago. Moving down a dimly lit hallway decorated with wood and red carpet, you found your way to a stairwell which you took. At the end of another long and dim hallway, you spotted a window large enough to crawl through. You dashed towards it. Because attempting to find the front door in this maze of a house would take forever and you didn't have the time to waste. You forced the latch and threw the window open. 

The stupid thing hardly budged.

You groaned. Throwing your weight against it a few more times, you managed to shove it open a little more - just enough for you to fit through. You made sure to chuck the candlestick out first because there was no way you were leaving that thing behind, then you steeled your nerves and dove through. You went head first, wriggling your way out while simultaneously tossing away any shred of dignity you'd ever possessed. All that time spent immobile in various hospital beds had finally paid off! For the first time in your life, you were actually grateful to be so extraordinarily frail. 

After tumbling to the ground in a heap that lacked any grace whatsoever, you took a brief moment to curse your cousins for kidnapping you. Once that was taken care of, you stood, brushed yourself off, and grabbed your candlestick out of the dirt. It was pretty gross, seeing as all the leaves and moss and dirt had gotten stuck to the congealed blood glossing the thing, but you simply could not find the will to care. You had only ever visited your cousins once and thus had absolutely no clue where anything in their little town was. However, as long as you weren't with Elena, anywhere would be better than that creepy old house. So, you took a deep breath and hightailed it into the trees.

You ran as far and as fast as your short, under-used legs would carry you and you were pretty sure you tripped over every root there was to be had along the way. You only paused when you heard the snap of a branch. It was a little too close for comfort and you were almost positive there were no deer nearby. Flinching as you turned up the volume on your hearing aids, you listened for other sounds of a pursuer. 

You turned to face her as she stepped out from behind a tree on your left, swiftly and casually tucking the candlestick out of her view. The girl was blonde and looked to be around Elena's age. She was rather tall too, and she watched you with an appraising gleam in her sharp, preparatory, blue eyes. Those eyes reminded you of Kol's - you smiled wryly. 

"What's that buzzing sound?" She asked first, glancing around. Her voice blared in your ears, your hearing aids dramatically enhancing the annoyed tone of it. You flinched. Turning your head, you pointed out your hearing aids to her, proceeding to lower the volume on them. She tilted her head curiously. "Are those little devices how you heard me coming?" The girl wondered. You nodded. "Huh… Are you Y/N?" You nodded again. "Do you know who I am?" You shook your head. Her eyes flicked down to your semi subtle attempt at hiding the candlestick and she smirked, gesturing vaguely at it. "Concealing your weapon, are we? I can see why Kol likes you so much. Come now love, what is it? Is it the revolver or the lead pipe?"

You chuckled softly at the sheer irony as you showed her the bronze candlestick. The girl's eyes widened and she smirked in amusement. Then she strode forward and stuck out her hand for you to shake, which is exactly what you did.

"My name's Rebekah," She said. "Kol's my older brother; he called me and asked me to keep an eye out for you." 

"Why-why go? Why d-did, uh, it?" You asked skeptically.

Rebekah shrugged. "I owe him," She replied easily. "Besides, us girls need to stick together." She smiled and you returned it. "Also, did you whack Stefan Salvatore over the head with that thing?" The girl pointed to the candlestick in your hand and you just nodded vigorously. Her grin grew wider. "Oh, darling, I like you! Let's go get you cleaned up before Kol gets back, yeah? He's real anxious to see you." 

Rebekah threw an arm around your shoulders and you followed her lead out of the woods. 

Turns out, Kol and the rest of his family were loaded, so you spent the rest of your evening in comfort at their enormous mansion. Rebekah gave you some fresh clothes for you to change into, which you appreciated despite them being a bit too big. She also introduced you to her other brother, Elijah who you helped solve a crossword puzzle. You also helped Rebekah with her homework because the poor girl was seriously struggling in algebra. 

Five hours after you had arrived, the door to the kitchen opened behind you and someone threw their keys on the counter. You sat at the bar, checking the last problem on Bekah's homework while she watched over your shoulder. Elijah sat behind you, reading a really thick book. When you heard the door open, you smirked and turned around. Standing in the doorway was Kol. His hair was tousled and his chocolate eyes were an innocent kind of tired. You thought he looked soft.

"Hello, K-ol!" You chirped.

The grin that spread across his face could have lit up the whole world but it was only meant for you. "Hello, Y/N/N." He waved.

You hopped off your stool and ran to him, jumping up so you could throw your arms around his shoulders. Kol caught you and held on tight, burying his face in your neck. His whole body curled around yours and neither of you said a word because no words needed to be said. You gasped as he turned his head to press a few heated kisses along your jaw, but he made no move to take it anywhere further. Not at the moment. Kol wasn't done holding you yet.

Your cheeks flared with heat as someone behind you cleared their throat and you were abruptly reminded that you weren't alone. 

"I know Elijah," Kol mumbled into your neck. "I owe you for keeping Klaus away, I've got it."

Rebekah just huffed and stalked out of the room. You turned your head a bit to watch as Elijah closed his book. 

"No, actually I was going to say that for this one-" He gestured to you. "-I'd be more than happy to do it again."

Kol merely sent his brother a thumbs up and went back to kissing your neck. That wasn't very nice of him so you smacked his arm and he sighed, glancing up at Elijah. "Thank you for the offer, I'll keep it in mind. Now bugger off!" You smacked his arm again. "Alright, bugger off please?" He added. 

Elijah huffed a laugh and left the room. When he was gone, Kol turned back to you. His eyes turned a little more sad now that you were alone.

"Y/N…  I just want to say-" 

You slapped your hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up so you could talk. But you didn't. You signed instead.

You pointed to yourself. 

Then crossed your arms over your chest.

Then you pointed at him.

"I love you."

Kol grinned and smoothed his hands over your arms. You pulled him close again for another hug but this time Kol's hands gripped your thighs, prompting you to hook your legs around him. A breeze skipped over your skin and your surroundings changed in an instant. Kol placed you down on his bed and moved to shut the door before returning. You blushed deeply, shying away from him as he climbed over you. 

"S-slow?" You asked quietly. He smiled and cupped your cheek, brushing the loose strands of hair away from your face. Kol left a lingering kiss to your forehead. Then he moved, ghosting his lips along your bright pink cheeks. Your eyes fluttered closed and he kissed those next. His feather-soft lips trailed along your jaw and then finally met yours for a kiss that lit a fire in your lungs that spread through your whole body. You felt warm. Kol was warm.

"You're beautiful," He whispered, urging you to lie back. Kol kissed you gently, tucking stay wisps of hair behind your ears as you shifted. "I'd do anything for you." That boy deepened his kiss, drawing a soft moan out of you that turned his breaths shallow. Kol pulled back and those chocolate eyes of his burned into yours. "Broken or not-" He said. "-I love every part of you."

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @musically-ambiguous @apolloroid

[yandere-sins]

I see that ur request is open, u don't have to do mine (I just rly wanna see how this gonna turn out 🤡)

But may i request a yandere farmer x fem reader

(I'm not rly into any fandom so you can just pick any or Rhys is fine too 👀)

My jam, and you know what? I owe everyone named Alex something, so let me create this wonderful buff farmer!yandere named Alex who I don’t kill off this time, I promise. Enjoy!

I uh, did hint at my ideas for yandere farmers with Milo from Pokémon before so yeah. Let’s go over that again, shall we? I’ll give a warning for pet play for those unfamiliar.

Rated Lime

»»———————— ♡ ————————«��   

It’s still early in the morning when you hear the jarring sound of the barn door opening. For a moment, you hope that all you experienced for the last few days had been a dream, but your body still aches from sleeping on the cold ground, revealing the heavy truth. You can hear the chipper, “Good morning, ladies!” as the cows start to moo in response, the unbearable smell of fecal and urine drifting towards you with the fresh air coming in from outside.

It’s time to get up, scream, do something! But you blink a few times, your swollen eyes barely opening after you cried yourself to sleep last night, and you look at the iron cuffs around your wrists. Why even trying? you ask yourself, immediately discarding the thought and pushing yourself from the floor. No, it’s too early to give up. You can’t let yourself down like this yet.

“And good morning, Sunshine.” The voice next to you makes you flinch as you look up into the chestnut eyes of your captor. He tips his cap, smiling. You’re disgusted by his presence alone, but a sweet smell comes your way. Leaning over the wooden barriers he put up as your ‘pen’, Alex holds a plate in his hands, pancakes stacking up on top of it with blueberries rolling off of them. The food is still warm, steam visibly rising from them in the colder morning air.

He looks at you expectantly when you don’t make a move, only trying to hide the saliva building in your mouth. You haven’t had a homemade breakfast in a long time, much less proper food in the last few days. There is no telling if your body can still stomach something as delicious as pancakes, but you prefer it so much more than the weird grain mix he also feeds to the cows and would shove down your throat. “Thought you might be hungry, Babe,” he smiles as he sees the desire in your eyes, his own gaze never straying from you, taking in every last flinch and move of yours.

In a way, you are like a wild animal to him, that much he told you. He restricted your movements with chains, fed you like cattle, and treated you like a dog, cooing and using the carrot and stick method to handle you. It’s disgusting, but by now, you at least feel as dirty as one. Using the fork he brought along, Alex cuts off a piece from the breakfast, eating from it first, his eyes staring into yours as he does it. Did he do it to show he didn’t poison it? Does he want to claim this plate of pancakes for himself? But why would he bring it to you in the first place if that’s the case?

Still chewing, he puts the fork down, pulling another pancake piece off the plate with his bare fingers, and holds it out to you. He was eager to lessen the distance between you and him from day one, but his dirty methods made you want to spit in his face. Stomach growling, you are at a loss of what to do. If you let him feed you like a dog, there was no way he’d keep it at that, but perhaps this was your only chance on receiving actual, human food he’d give you if you refuse him.

Your chains rattle as you scoot closer, refusing to play the captured animal and crawl on all fours. Every muscle of yours is sore and hurt from the cold, but there is no other way, the chains around your wrists and ankles keeping you down with their weight. Instead, you stretch your neck as far as possible, your back tensing up in response until your mouth is under his fingers and the piece of pancake hanging from them. But Alex doesn’t just let the food go, watching you with an excited grin as you carefully put the piece between your teeth. Only then does he let go, and you are able to claim the sweet sensation on your tongue as yours.

Eager, Alex holds out another piece, and you take it without even swallowing the first one completely. Something in you completely set out as your brain is satisfied with sugary sweet and fluffy pancakes melting in your mouth, their warmth going through your whole body. You are hooked on the rush of food, you don’t notice your tongue lapping up the syrup on his fingers with the next piece of pancake until it’s too late. But Alex notices, his lips immediately turning into a disgusting grin of self-satisfaction, and he reaches for your face, fingers curling under your chin and thumb rubbing over your cheek.

Immediately, you shy away, disgusted by his touch and disappointed in yourself that you didn’t see it coming. In the reflection of his wide-open, maniacally staring eyes, you can see how dirty and disgusting you are after living like a barn animal for days, and that is precisely how Alex sees you. An animal that he just touched for the first time. Who came to him of their own free will. To him, it is progress. To you, despair.

“Come,” he entices, luring you with more pancakes, but you feign disinterest. “Don’t be scared now. I know you like it.”

The pancakes? Yes. Him? Not at all.

“You need to eat to get big and strong, you know?”

“I’m not a baby animal,” you hiss back, putting on the meanest glare you can muster.

“You sure act like one,” Alex reminds you tauntingly, his smile unfading but his expression less amused than it had been before. “Licking at my fingers, coming to me for food. Don’t you think that’s what a good pet does? You’ve been holed up in your corner for too long. You should be more grateful for my efforts, just like the cows.”

Gnawing at your lip, your eyes fall from his to the pancake slowly growing cold. Only now do you realize he has been feeding you with these fingers of his without your knowledge if they were dirty or clean. Being a farmer, you never know where he puts them before approaching you, and you grow more disgusted for having fallen into this trap he had laid out for you.

Suddenly, for the first time, you hear him sigh. Even when he scratched his head and wondered what to do with you before, he never once had sighed. Somehow, it makes you shudder, a bad feeling spreading in your stomach as he hangs his head, shaking it.

“I’m not asking much, you know. Here’s the deal.” His eyes are ice-cold as he looks up again, and Alex roughly throws the piece of pancake to the floor right in front of you. It no longer looks appetizing, but you are more afraid of the man before you than the wasted food. “Eat it,” he orders commandingly, fitting this whole scenario he imagines you two to play in.

“Ew, no--” you want to protest, furrowing your brows when he interrupts you harshly by throwing the whole plate, including the pancakes, to the ground inside your pen. “In less than an hour, your whole fucking pen will be swarmed by ants. But I’ve got something better for you.”

Pointing to the piece of food before you, Alex repeats, “Eat it,” and this time, you don’t dare to respond. “Eat, and you can come inside with me.”

At this, your ears perk up, eyes widening. “I-Inside?” you ask, doubting that he meant what he said. “Yeah. I prepared a nice box for you in the house, warm and cozy. Clean water and a hot shower included, but I need to know that you are willing to listen to me, you understand?”

Body trembling, you sit there like a deer in the headlights. This is too good to be true, and you fear how high the price is that you’d have to pay if agreed. Listening to him can’t possibly be the only thing he’d want once you were inside, but you watch as the first few flies come over from the cows, wanting to get a piece of the delicious breakfast wasted on the ground. You’d have no peace if you stayed here - never.

Your hand reaches out but just as quickly pulls back. “What will we do inside?” you squeak, unable to control your anxious stuttering. Now that Alex’s lips curl back into a smile, you see his sinister side for the first time. He is leaning casually onto the barricade, but his whole demeanor changed into something horrifying, something that gives you the vibes of a sick and twisted person more than ever. “Don’t ask, just decide. Eat and come inside with me, or stay here between cows, piss, and shit. Maybe you can be useful for milk production?”

The pure horror of thinking about what that fate would entail makes you go weak, and in less than a few seconds, you had gobbled up the piece of pancake, stuffing it into your mouth. Immediately you feel the recoil of your body after doing something so disgusting, but you hold back from spitting it out, already having come so far. “Good girl,” he praises you in a belittling tone like you’d use for pets and children. Opening up your pen by unlocking the many locks he had put on for safety, Alex doesn’t mind the food on the ground, neither slipping on it and breaking his neck like you hoped for, nor having shards of the plate go through his boots.

“Give me your hand,” he asks, holding his own out until you slowly lift yours into his. The chains are way too heavy, but the fear keeps you working even though your wrists are open wounds from the chafing cuffs. “Good,” he keeps praising, repeating the progress for your other hand. “You’re learning so quickly, look at you. Attagirl!”

You don’t dare to rub your bleeding wrists as they are finally free, but a giant boulder falls from your heart as you feel relief set in. “Damn, you do need a good bath, though,” Alex mutters as he sits down beside you, proceeding to uncuff your ankles. You feel a sense of shame, not being able to smell yourself anymore but not wanting to imagine it either.

Finally, you are free of all restrains, but before you can try doing anything funny, Alex picks you up in his arms, his broad chest in front of your face and the smell of aftershave and sweat filling your nose. You didn’t know that was how he smelled. After all, he brought you here unconscious, and when you woke up, you were already in this shitty pen, cuffed and gagged for the first two days.

“Feeling good?” he asks you as he notices how quiet you’ve gotten, not much left of your spiteful self that would scream and curse at him before. You nod slowly, not looking up. Looking at him from close-up might cause you to puke after all, and you’ve worked too hard to get to this point. Alex gives you a rough, scolding shake, and you instinctively grip onto his shirt. “Tell me.”

“Yes...” you mumble, hoping that will be enough to satisfy him, and Alex gives you another sigh before shrugging lightly and adjusting you in his arms. “That’s something we can work on,” he promises you for another time, and you keep your head low as he carries you outside.

It’s been way too long that you saw the morning dew on the grass, fog covering the fields in the distance, and the sun only starting to fully rise above you. It makes you look up in awe, unknowingly being observed by a curious pair of eyes from above. Being outside again almost makes the trouble worth it, and you are able to find happiness in this small victory.

But you have yet to grasp the consequences of your decision. Even if it looked great in the image you had in your mind, you aren’t aware of the state of the house inside, what was waiting for you behind the pretty facade of a farmer’s home. The demands he has of you that Alex had yet to reveal and how eager he was to train his adorable little darling. Make you just as dependant and obsessed with him as his animals were, while you’d share their place at the end of the bed for a long time.

And you didn’t even know about the collar yet.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

A/N: Oh god, I haven’t written anything in the present tense for a loooong time. I hope it was readable! Sorry in advance if I messed up occasionally, I tried to get everything sorted out properly... >_< Still, a very enjoyable write and I hope the read as well!

[cyncerity]

Would noms become common in the shifter tommy au?? If so I’d love to see the first time bee n boo get nommed >:)

This is by far my most shitpost-y story ever because the bench trio are chaotic idiots

tw: vore and stupidity (I had a lot of fun with this one lmao)

“HOLY FUCK TOMMY YOU CAN EAT PEOPLE?!” Tubbo screeched as he slammed Tommy’s door open, causing the blonde to practically throw his phone against a wall in shock. Thankfully, he only dropped it onto the bed he was sitting on.

Tommy looked up to Tubbo and saw the shorter teen with his stupid mischievous grin on, and also saw Ranboo standing behind him in the doorway, looking confused as hell and really tired. Phil had invited the two over to hang out with Tommy while his family went to pick up things from the grocery store (which Tommy was banned at for being a dumbass).

“Tubbo what the fuck man why did you ask th-“ Tommy tried to finish as Ranboo interrupted with an explanation. “Phil told us that we were here so you wouldn’t be alone and Wilbur clarified that the last time they tried to leave you by yourself you swallowed them and had a panic attack and me and Tubbo are arguing over whether or not that was a joke.”

“Come one, Boo, if he can grow he can hypothetically swallow people, right?” “Stomach acid exists, Tubbo.” “Maybe he doesn’t have that?” “We’ve both seen him eat before.” “Phil wouldn’t have looked as pissed at Wil if it was a joke…”

Tommy sighed as the two argued. Well, no use in hiding now. “Yeah, I can eat people.” Tommy shrugged, effectively shutting both of his friends up. After they didn’t believe Tommy about his powers the first time and were proven very wrong, Tommy’s friends had taken to believing every word Tommy said about his abilities. Ranboo just stared at a complete loss for words as Tubbo jumped onto Tommy’s bed. “That’s so fucking cool! Can you eat me?”

“Uh, thanks? That’s honestly not the reaction I was expecting. But sure, if you want.” Tommy said, trying to act nonchalant when in reality he was losing his shit over the fact that Tubbo had just asked to be eaten. Tommy secretly loved the feeling of having people in his stomach (even if it had only happened once and even thinking about it made his stomach feel sore), but he would rather die then ask someone if he could eat them. Even if he had technically eaten everyone he lived with, but that was an accident. Technically.

“Hold on a minute,” Ranboo finally said. “You’re telling me that you can just…swallow people? And they’ll be fine?? How do you… what does… I… How??”

Tommy laughed at Ranboo’s attempt at a question. “I don’t know, man, it’s just something I can do. I guess my body can just tell when something alive is���in me, for lack of a better term, and keep them alive.” “What if it backfires?”Ranboo asked. “Are you alive?” “Wh-yes??” “Then it won’t.”

The taller teen sighed and looked at Tubbo, who was practically vibrating with excitement. “Well then, I’m not letting Tubbo go in alone.”

Tommy didn’t even have time to process the response before Tubbo was dragging him into the living room by his wrist. “Come on, there’s a higher ceiling in here, do your thing, big man.” He said, finally letting go of Tommy’s wrist.

Tommy took that as his cue. He focused his energy on making himself big enough to swallow two people before having to readjust himself after remembering how tall Ranboo was. When he was ready, he picked up both of his friends and held them to his face.

“And you’re both ok with this? Ranboo, there’s no fault in chickening out.” Tommy smirked. “Actually there is, since I know neither of you would ever let me hear the end of it.” Ranboo jokingly replied before forcefully opening Tommy’s upper lip. Tommy took this as an incentive to just shove Ranboo and Tubbo in his mouth, causing Ranboo to yelp and Tubbo to start giggling wildly as Tommy coated them in saliva.

The flavor of his friends made Tommy practically melt, and he had to keep himself from purring at the taste. Not because he thought it would scare them, but because the thought of them learning he could purr was somehow more embarrassing than having to explain that he could eat people.

Tubbo tasted like citrus honey and Ranboo had a vanilla caramel taste to him that made his mouth water. Tommy wasn’t sure how long he kept them in his mouth but eventually someone (probably Tubbo) kicked his tongue, reminding him that he couldn’t keep his friends in his mouth all day no matter how much he wanted to. He squished the two against his cheek with his tongue just to be an asshole for a second before swallowing them down. He felt the weight slip down his collarbone and took a moment to marvel at how much better swallowing felt when no one thought they were going to die.

He felt the two drop into his stomach and his hands instinctively went to his middle. He felt the slightly heavier weight, almost certainly Ranboo, try and stand up before falling back down immediately. He heard and felt Tubbo laugh at him before Tubbo started trying to stand and explore his surroundings himself, getting the bright idea of leaning on the walls around his as he walked around the small space. As soon as Tommy felt Tubbo near the front of his stomach, he made it a point to push his stomach in just enough to knock Tubbo over, causing Ranboo to laugh this time.

“Pfft karma bitch.” Tommy laughed. “No fair, Ranboo fell on his own, you pushed me.” “All’s fair in love and war.”

Tubbo responded to this by playfully shoving at the front of the stomach, causing Tommy to pause. Last time he did this, his stomach throbbed with pain because of the abuse his family had put it through. But now he couldn’t deny how nice it felt when Tubbo did that. It felt like an internal massage, and Tommy had to resist purring again. He did, however, start rubbing circles at where he felt his friends in what he hoped portrayed an appreciative gesture, happy that time found friends to share his weird abilities with. He loved them, and he knew they knew that without him even having to say it.

“So…what do you guys wanna do now?” Tommy asked, drumming his fingers on his middle.

Ranboo tried to reply before Tubbo cut him off. “Well, we could just sleep like normal people but I’m sure Tubbo has a worse sugges-“ “You should jump of the roof, I wanna know what that wound feel like from in here!!”

“I like that idea better!”

“Oh my god, seriously-“

[george-fabian-weasley]

Harry Potter — The One That Got Away

Summary: You died in the Battle of Hogwarts after pushing off Fred away from the wall, and Harry was beyond devastated. You were his First Love, and will always be.

Words: 7,440 words

Warnings: Angst, My best angst yet, Altered Storyline, Pure form of pain, I just wanna hug Harry in this one, neutral!reader, Death, Mentions of panic attack, Tissues Are Recommended

Disclaimer: This is my longest fic yet! 7.4K words of pure pain, wow. I’ve worked on this one for like idk 5 days? I recommend listening to The One That Got Away by Katy Perry, the lyrics inspired me so much for this one. Also, can you believe this is my first time writing a Harry fic? Crazy, I know! Enjoy the painful ride, fellas <3

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“Harry?”

Your voice echoed the room, making everyone’s heads turn to you. You heard the news of Harry, Ron, and Hermione returning to Hogwarts after months of disappearances, and the news was right. The group of people opened, and there he was, the boy you loved for almost three years now.

“Oh my god,” You muttered under your breath as you ran to him, Harry scooped you up easily as he dug his head on the crook of your neck instantly. You hugged him so tight, the tears in your eyes were starting to well, you never thought you would see him alive and well in front of you, but there he is right now, hugging you as if you were his last reason to live.

“I thought I would never see you again, wh-where have you been?!” You frantically ran your mouth, arms still wrapped tight on his body. “It doesn’t matter, oh Godric, I missed you so much.” Harry sighed out; his tense body relaxed immediately as you held him. You pulled away, hands cupping his face, “Are you alright, a-are you hurt?”

Harry smiled fondly at you, his hands cupping your face as well, “I’m fine, darling.”

“This is adorable and all, but we sort of having a situation now, if you mind?” Neville voiced out awkwardly. Harry quickly kissed your forehead and sent a glance to the crowd around you, “Right.”

Harry was quiet.

He couldn’t think of anything else than the moment he had arrived at Hogwarts a few hours ago. That was the first time he had seen you after months of hiding in the woods to find the Horcruxes.

He heard the news. And he refused to believe it. Being in denial, he ran to the Great Hall, his heart begging nonstop for the rumor to be false. Harry ran, and ran, and ran. He didn’t care that his legs were exhausted, he didn’t care about his heartbeat constantly increasing, all he cared about as of that moment was you.

Right at the end of the Great Hall, a group of dusty gingers huddled together, seemingly crying. The little voice in his heart now screaming for its life; not ready to know what were the Weasleys crying for.

His feet felt heavy, it felt like he has rocks tied with his shoes, but Harry forced himself to walk closer to them. Closer and closer, he found familiar faces contorted as they cry. From a distance he could make up George who was holding back Fred; the older twin was fighting to be let go, sobbing as he does so, begging to be near that someone laying on the floor.

Harry had never seen Fred cry before, the tall ginger always had a smile on his lips or a laugh of mischief, but never a frown, never tears rolling down his face. And that’s when Harry arrived, and Molly; Ron’s mum, hugged him tight, sobbing onto his shoulders, whimpering ‘I’m so sorry’s. He couldn’t hug her back, no, not when his eyes were frozen on the vision of you.

Laying on the ground, lifeless.

Instantly, his knees were weak. He kneeled beside you, the screaming of his heart had never sounded so deafening. Harry was beyond shocked; he couldn’t comprehend the vision in front of him.

All of this was too sudden for him to understand.

When Hermione let out a strangled cry of pain, Harry felt his heart was stabbed. “I shouldn’t have been near that wall! Y/N pushed me away and-and the wall started to fall, I’m-I’m sorry, Harry this is all my fault-“

Harry could hear Fred’s pained sobs saying the words, but he couldn’t digest it. His eyes were still trained to you. For a moment, he thought you looked angelic. As if you were just sleeping and, at any moment now, you would blink your eyes open and smile at him, saying, “Good morning, love.”

But you didn’t. And that’s when the dagger in his heart turns.

“Y/N.” The way your name rolls down his tongue felt weird. It felt strange because you would never respond to him calling you again. Harry’s trembling hands went down to cup your face, brushing away the specks of dust from your face.

“You’re- You’re cold, darling.” His voice was calm, but Harry knew that was the only thing that was at the moment. His whole body was trembling, his breaths were heavy, his eyes struggling to blink; as if… if he blinked, then you would vanish from his eyesight forever.

At that moment, Harry cared no longer about his environment, he didn’t hear Ron’s sobbing mess as he was hugging George, he didn’t hear Hermione’s screams of denial of her best friend’s death, he didn’t hear Fred’s cries of overbearing guilt.

Harry only heard his quivering breathing. He hadn’t noticed the tears welling up his eyes until a drop of his own tear fell onto your soft skin.

That’s when Harry Potter breaks.

“Wh-Why are you so cold?” Harry’s whimper silenced everyone. Hermione froze from her frantic breakdown, Ron looked to Harry with the sudden realization that he’s the one most hurting at the moment, and Fred minimized his cries to look at the pair.

“Why are you so cold, darling?” He cried again. Harry was breaking down, he was exhausted, the very people who loved him dead one by one, and you were his last straw. “Why are you leaving me, Y/N?” He whimpered against your stomach, clutching your clothes tightly as he tried his best to find your warmth. The shirt you were wearing started to get wet with his tears, it took Harry everything inside of him not to crumble right there and then.

His stomach hollowed as he realized, even in death, you were beautiful.

Harry didn’t know how much time he spent there, but as he opened his eyes, he realized he was standing in front of Dumbledore’s office. Numbly, he went inside. His thoughts were still preoccupied with you, but he has other matters in hand. No matter how much he wanted to stay there and lay beside you, the war was far from over. And the one-hour duration Voldemort gave them was running short.

When he walked out of the room, he was shaken. Not as shaken as he was of your death, but he was still shaken. Snape… was protecting him this whole time? Harry was snapped from his thoughts when he recognized two figures sitting on the end of the stairs. He took a deep breath as he walked closer to Ron and Hermione, who huddled together, hand in hand. Hermione looked to her back as she heard footsteps, quickly standing up as she realized it was Harry.

“Where you’ve been?” Her quiet voice echoed through the silent castle. “We thought you went to the forest,” Ron breathed out, worried. Harry walked past them, trying to look calm and stoic as he replied, “I’m going there now.”

“Are you mad?” Ron said in disbelief, his eyes followed the back of Harry. “No!” He said, desperation visible in his voice, “You can’t give yourself up to him.”

Ron’s words made Harry stop on his tracks. He looked down to the flights of staircases before him; exhaustion evident on his face. Upon looking at Harry’s back stiff, Hermione asked, “What is it, Harry? What is it that you know?”

Harry slowly turned around, looking at Hermione, his eyes silently begging her to give him a rest. “… There’s a reason I can hear them. The Horcruxes.”

He watched Hermione’s face dawned upon realization, “I think I’ve known for a while, and I think you have too.”

Hermione frowned, tears started to well up in her eyes, she didn’t want to lose another best friend, yet she knew, she had no choice. “I’ll go with you,” “No, kill the snake.” Harry was quick to object.

“Kill the snake and then it’s just him.” He said, watching Hermione silently cried.

She quickly came forward and embraced Harry into a hug, crying on his shoulders as she did. Harry hugged her back just as tight, he needed it. No one hugged him when he was crying at the Great Hall, everyone was fairly shaken at your loss. Harry connected eyes with Ron, who was silently protesting him on going to the forest alone, even if he knew nothing is stopping Harry now.

Harry pulled away, took one last look at Hermione before turning away, and walked down the stairs to the forest. During his way to the Forbidden Forest, nothing but you clouded his mind.

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“Heads up!” Harry heard someone shouted behind him and felt a body jumping on him, he oof-ed as he quickly grabbed the person’s legs, feeling their arms wrapping around his neck. He tilted his head and laughed as he saw you, giggling tremendously.

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” Ron said as he playfully rolled his eyes. Harry and Ron were walking in the hallways to their next class when you had spotted them from afar. Being the ball of energy you are, you hopped on Harry’s back to surprise him. He was definitely surprised, pleasantly even. “Good morning, Ronny!” You chirped as you ruffled the ginger’s hair, receiving a whine of disagreement from the Weasley. They kept on walking, Harry casually giving you a piggyback ride as he walked.

“Hello, handsome,” You whispered to his ear and kissed his cheek, making Harry chuckle with a blush on his cheeks, “Morning, love.”

“Where’s Hermione?” You asked, comfortably resting as Harry carried you, feeling the warmth of his body. Ron glanced at you snuggling on Harry’s shoulders and scoffed, “She’s at the library, studying as always.” You playfully rolled your eyes, “Oh, don’t say you’re jealous of us, Ron! Even so, I wouldn’t mind you being jealous, we are simply very sweet together, isn’t that right, Harry?”

“Yeah, Ron, maybe you can give Hermione a piggyback sometimes if you want it so terribly,” Harry remarked as you two laughed, and Ron flushed a deep red with a quiet, “Sod off, you two.”

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“Harry?” You said as you knocked on the door, worried. As you heard no response, you opened the door, seeing Harry laying on his bed, distressed. You quietly sighed as you walked closer until he noticed you and instantly groaned.

“If you’re here just to be mad at me, then Ron’s already doing it for you, Y/N.” He weakly said, feeling absolutely terrible. Just half an hour ago, he was forced to enter the Triwizard’s Tournament because of that stupid Goblet of Fire choking out his name at the last minute. “No, I’m not mad at you, Harry- why would I be? I’m just… worried about you.” You said quietly, sitting on the corner of his bed just beside his laying state.

Harry tilted his head to you, pursing his lips, “How did you get in here?” You shrugged, “The twins gave a hand if I’m being honest.” He huffed a small smile, “Of course they did.”

“But I’m not here to talk about the twins, Harry. I’m here to talk about you. Are you okay?” You spoke, slowly laying on his bed horizontally with your legs still touching the ground. Harry watched you lay down on his bed across him, he was also laying on his bed horizontally with his legs touching the ground, but in the opposite direction of you. He felt the position was very intimate and close, but Harry didn’t mind.

“… I don’t know, honestly. I didn’t put my name inside that bloody Goblet, and even if I did, I shouldn’t have been accepted, for Merlin’s sake, I’m underage! But Ron here thinks I’m out there hunting for fame again, which I absolutely do not want in the first place! Believe it or not-“

“I believe you, Harry.” Your soft voice took his ramblings to a halt. As he stared into your eyes, he could see the sincerity in your words, and he suddenly realized how pretty your eyes were.

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You were breath-taking. The whole world that was moving around Harry came to a halt as he watched you walked down the stairs in your beautiful outfit. The mustard yellow resembling the color of a sunflower made your skin glowing and if he’s being honest, he had never seen anyone more stunning in his life.

You were smiling at him, and he had never felt gladder asking you out as his date to the Yule Ball. “Hello, Potter.” You said, amused by his bewitched expression. Harry blinked and gave you a baffled smile, “Y-You look great, Y/N.” You shrugged, eyeing his black and white outfit playfully, “Not too bad yourself, Harry.”

He offered you his arm, suddenly remembering what McGonagall taught him a few days prior, “Shall we?” You chuckled at the sudden chivalry, and linked your arm with his, “Lead the way, kind sir.”

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“No, Y/N, I won’t let you!”

Harry had pulled you away from the room full of people to talk to you alone. You sighed as you cupped his face, “Harry, darling, my love, we don’t have much time. The Order needs me to help you.” He shook his head, adamant with his decision, “You don’t know how many Death Eaters are out there, Y/N. What- What if you get hurt? What if you die, just like Sirius? I-I can’t-“

“Harry!” You said loudly, snapping him out of his overthinking rambles. He was looking down, trying hard to control his tears, frowning. “Harry, look at me.” You said softly, he kept his head down.

“Look at me, darling.” You said again, tilting his head so he can see you. His eyes were glassy, he was terrified, and your heart sunk for your lover. He had never wanted all of this attention, yet he had it, and the burden on his shoulders was terribly heavy.

“I am going nowhere. I promise you; I will come home to you safe and sound. I love you, Harry, and I will never, ever leave you.” You pressed word by word slowly, letting him hear every syllable coming out of your mouth.  You engulfed him in a hug, and Harry quietly cried on your shoulders, holding the back of your head tightly. Your body had always managed to keep him warm, and Harry calmed down soon after.

He pressed a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a minute, muttering only loud enough for you to hear, “You better come back to me safely, darling. I love you so much.”

“And I will, Harry.”

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“Hello, handsome.” Harry turned around to see you with a casual, but still pretty outfit. The lilac color looks amazing on you and he smiled fondly, pecking your lips, “Hello, beautiful.”

You smiled brightly at him, “Come on.” He raised his eyebrows at you suddenly pulling him to the dance floor, from a distance, Harry could see Bill and Fleur enjoying their wedding reception, both have a large smile on their faces.

He chuckled at your bright demeanor, “You know I can’t dance, Y/N.” You scrunched your nose and adorably shook your head, “Nonsense, everyone can dance.” He let himself be dragged to the dance floor, glancing at his surrounding, his smile widening at the sight of his two best friends dancing with each other, obvious lovestruck expression hits both of their faces.

“Remember the steps, darling?” Your sweet voice made him turn his attention back to you, his heartwarming and his stiff body eases at the sight of you having a good time. You guided his hand to place itself at your waist, and his other hand intertwined to yours lightly.

“I may have forgotten some steps,” Harry warned, and you laughed loudly making Harry’s heart soar to the sky at the sound of your laugh. As you calmed down, you locked eyes with him, your wide smile reduced to a soft one, “Nothing I couldn’t handle before.”

As you two danced to the slow, elegant beat, Harry had never felt more at peace. With his life constantly on the run, this very moment was worth more than gold to him. “Y/N,” he whispered, his eyes never ran away from you.

“Yes, Harry?” You replied, a smile still plastered on your face. “I know we’re in a middle of a mess right now, and while it doesn’t look like it’s getting any better, I was- uhm- wondering, after all of this, and given the opportunity that we both will still be alive-“ “Which we will,” You interjected, and he huffed a smile, “Which we will,” He repeated, looking bashful.

“Would you like to marry me?”

He watched you scoff in disbelief, your expression etched shock all over. “Oh my goodness, are you literally proposing right now?” You whispered at him, and Harry rolled his eyes playfully, “Obviously, if not I wouldn’t have said that.”

Harry chuckled at your scoffing again, this time it felt playful. Before you could say anything, Harry continued,  “I know we’re both still young and we literally haven’t finished school yet, but I just… I can’t really see myself marrying anyone else but you. You… You light up my life like no other and your hugs are the best and you make me smile whenever you look at me and-“

Harry halted on his ramblings when he realized your eyes were slowly turning glassy. His smile softens and his hand reached to cup your face, “And with you by my side, I have nothing else to wish for. I love you, Y/N, even more than you love me.”

You sniffed, leaning on to his calloused hand and pressed a kiss on it, “You’re not being fair, you know?”

“How so, darling?”

“You’re proposing without a ring, you doofus.” You both chuckled, and Harry leaned in kissing you. You kissed back passionately. The kiss was slow and sensual, both of you wanted to savor this moment. And the moment you pulled away; you gave him a beautiful smile.

“And even without a ring, I would say yes.”

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Harry had arrived. Already deep inside the forest, his expression was solemn. Harry was numb, he couldn’t feel anything, nothing at all.

Nothing, but the hollowing in his stomach whenever he was reminded of you. He halted on his steps, breathing through his mouth as he looked to his back, the view of almost destroyed Hogwarts was hazy. He looked back to the front, knowing that just a few steps forward, will be Voldemort and his clan, waiting for his arrival.

Harry was reminded of the Snitch inside his pocket, and so he fished it out and watched as the golden carving on the Snitch magically appeared.

‘I Open at the Close’

Harry held out a breath, now understanding the riddle completely. In his mind were flashes of his memories with you, with Ron and Hermione, with the Weasleys, with his family.

And so, with a somehow light heart, Harry said, “I’m ready to die.”

‘If it means that’s what it takes to see you again, then I’m ready, my love.’ Sang his heart quietly. Harry slowly placed the snitch on his lips, closing his eyes as he felt the cold surface touched his skin. As he inched away, the Snitch opens slowly one layer, then two layers, revealing a small diamond-shaped stone.

The small stone was hanging around the air, levitating itself. Harry recognized it; he hadn’t realized he had his breath paused.

“The Resurrection Stone.” He whispered under his breath as he slowly put his open palm under the floating object. He grasped it, and instantly closing his eyes, his mind was fast to imagine several people without him realizing it.

And when he opened his eyes, there they were.

James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus.

Lily was right in front of him. As soon as she reached her arm out, Harry walked closer to her, with his own arm reaching out, desperate to touch his mother he hadn’t seen for many years.

When his own hand went through hers, Harry felt his heart crack for the nth time of the day.

“You’ve been so brave, sweetheart,” Lily’s melodic voice traveled to his ears, and Harry had never realized how much he missed her until he heard her voice. “Why are you here?” He asked, feeling breathless.

“All of you.” Harry turned to his father, James for a moment before turning back to Lily, whose gentle smile never left her lips, “We never left.”

Harry found himself nodding, gulping at the sudden new emotions he had never thought he would feel again once he had seen you at the Hall. His eyes darted to Sirius; his godfather he had tragically lost, and with a shaky voice Harry asked, “Does it… Does it hurt?”

“Dying?”

Sirius’s face was calm. With a casual voice, Harry’s godfather replied with a whisper, “Quicker than falling asleep.”

“You’re nearly there, son,” James voiced out, making Harry turn to him. “I’m sorry. I never wanted any of you to die for me.” Harry spoke heavily, his heart heavy; drenched with overbearing guilt.

“And Remus, your son-“ Harry’s words were cut off by the former professor, “Others will tell him what his mother and father died for. One day, he’ll understand.” Remus’ comforting voice was somber in Harry’s ears. Having nothing to say, Harry turned his attention back to his dear mother, whose smile never left.

And he turned to his father, “You’ll stay with me?”

James looked endearingly to his grown-up son, his smile gently etched on his lips, “Until the end.”

“And he won’t be able to see you?” Harry asked again, the desperate tone in his voice were visible.

“No,” Sirius said, “We’re here, you see,” His hand ghostly reached to Harry’s left chest; his heart. And Harry remembered his words a few years ago, “The ones that love us never really leave us.”

Harry gulped, there was a question itching at the back of his throat. As if knowing what he meant, Lily voiced out, “You’ll see them soon, Harry.”

His head whipped to her, his heartbeat quickening at the mention of you, “What’s that supposed to mean? Where is Y/N? Why aren’t they here?”

“Soon, Harry, soon,” Sirius said, and Harry calmed down. He was aching to see you, even if it was his imagination of you and he couldn’t touch you. He heaved a deep breath, “Stay close to me.”

“Always.”

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“Harry Potter,” Harry heard the voice of Voldemort saying his name. He had come forward to Voldemort and his clan of Death Eaters, not forgetting to glance at a disheveled Hagrid, who was heartbroken to see the boy he once saved from the Dursleys six years ago had shown up.

“The Boy Who Lived… Come to die.”

Harry was silent, he knew he had no choice as of this moment. The giant snake, Nagini had slithered closer to its master. And Harry watched as Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, aiming at him, and the boy closed his eyes. His lips curled into a little smile, for the last image he saw as he closed his eyes… was you. Smiling.

And with the shout of an Unforgivable Curse recited, coming along with it were glowing colors of green, everything was white.

And Sirius was right.

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Harry woke up breathing heavily. His first vision was a white ceiling. He quickly stood up and looked at his surroundings.

Everything was white. Everything looks clean and… bright.

Harry turned to his back, suddenly noticing a bench a few steps away from him. It was white and there was something beneath it and-

There was something beneath it.

Without much thinking, Harry walked closer to the creature, his mind running a million questions that had yet to be answered. Harry couldn’t quite see what the creature was, so he crouched down to see and when he did, he flinched away rather quickly.

There, under the bench, was a small human-like creature, hugging itself as if it was shivering from the cold. It’s almost like seeing a small skeleton with just skin, no meat at all, and Harry was baffled as he recognized who the creature resembled like.

Voldemort.

“You can’t help, Harry…“

Harry instantly looked up at the sudden voice. His mouth gaped open at the sight of Professor Dumbledore walking closer to him. “… You wonderful boy, you brave, brave man.” Dumbledore said, a small prideful smile on his lips.

For a moment, Harry was astonished. He had seen this very man before him, get thrown off the Astronomy Tower by none other than Snape himself, and now he’s here, standing before him.

“Let us walk,” Dumbledore said, turning his back to Harry and started walking. Instinctively, Harry followed him with so many questions itching on his throat. He walked as he tilted his head to the bench with the questionable creature underneath.  “Professor, what is that?” He asked, his eyes trained on the creature. Dumbledore turned back too, only to reply, “Something beyond either of our help. A part of Voldemort sent here to die.”

“And exactly where are we?” Harry asked again, and they continued walking. “I was gonna ask you that,” Dumbledore nonchalantly said as he continued, “Where would you say where we are?”

Harry looked around, “Well, it looks like King’s Cross station. Only cleaner,” He paused, ‘So much cleaner it has no color,’ he thought. “… And without all the trains.”

“King’s Cross, is that right?” Dumbledore chimed, “This is, as they say, your party.”

“I expect you now realize that you and Voldemort,” Harry looked up to the tall man, “Have been connected to something other than fate. Since that night at Godric’s Hollow all those years ago.” Dumbledore said solemnly.

“… So it’s true then, sir.”

“A part of him lives within me, doesn’t it?” Harry questioned, and Dumbledore chuckled, “Did.”

“It’s been just destroyed many moments ago by none other than Voldemort himself. You,” Dumbledore paused, looking at the 17-year-old beside him, “Were the Horcrux he never meant to make, Harry.”

As they walked, they came across another bench and Dumbledore decided to sit on it, and Harry followed suit.

“I have to go back, haven’t I?” Harry asked, and Dumbledore quickly replied, “Oh, that’s up to you.”

“I’ve a choice?” “Oh yeah!” The old man chirped, looking around, “We’re in King’s Cross, you say?”

“I think if so decide, you’ll be able to board a train.”

“And where will it take me?” Harry asked again. Dumbledore only chuckles, he turned to look at the young boy before him, “On.”

Dumbledore stood up and began to walk away. Harry was baffled, “Professor!” The man turned around, “Yes?” “Where are you going?” He said, and Dumbledore chuckled yet again, “My time with you is over, boy. That lovely fellow wants to talk to you now. Very impatient, they were.”

Dumbledore nodded to something behind him, and Harry had never turned around so quickly. He was breathless, he had never thought he would feel his heartbeat increasing again, but it did.

Because it was you.

You were wearing a simple white outfit, if anything it was the simplest outfit he had seen you in. But you managed to look ethereal to him, never less resembling an angel from the Heaven itself. If so, more beautiful than an angel.

“Missed me, Potter?” You said with a bright smile. Harry couldn’t say anything, he was dumbfounded and he couldn’t even utter a word.

So he engulfed you in a hug tightly.

“Oof! Now that’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?” You teased, chuckling at your boyfriend hugging the life out of you. Well, if you had any more to spend anyway. Regardless of the tease, you hugged him back just as tight. Just when you hugged him back, Harry’s knees turned weak and you slowly guided him down to sit on the floor, still hugging the boy you love with all your heart.

Just then, Harry who had been quiet for a moment broke a sob.

You etched a sad smile on your lips, caressing the back of his head the way he liked it, “… I shook you too much, didn’t I?”

Harry couldn’t say anything, he dug his face into the crook of your neck, crying loudly without any embarrassment now, “I’m- I’m sorry, Y/N… This-This is all my fault you shouldn’t- you shouldn’t have to-“

“Hey, hey… “ You cooed, softly pulling away from him so you could wipe away his tears. “Shh… Stop blaming yourself, darling. It’s a war, and a war isn’t your fault, Harry.” You softly said, reaching in to kiss both of his eyes.

“I’m so tired, Y/N… I’m so tired…” Harry whimpered, more tears rolling down like a broken dam. He had lost you a few hours ago, but he felt like he had lost you for years.

“Let-Let me stay with you, Y/N, please…” Harry softly begged, his face was cupped with your hands. You felt your heartbreak at the vulnerability he shown you. While it wasn’t the first time Harry had been vulnerable in front of you, this time it was completely different.

“While that isn’t such a bad offer, the war isn’t over, Harry. If there’s anyone who could kill Voldemort, then it’s you, darling.” Despite your tries on convincing him, Harry shook his head, “I don’t want to be the Chosen One anymore! I’m so tired… of everything… I lost my parents, I lost Sirius and now I lost you! I have no one else to live for, Y/N…”

He leaned his head into the crook of your neck, and you two sat there quietly, your fingers playing softly with his neat brown locks.

You shook your head, “You know that’s not true, Harry. Ron and Hermione are still out there, waiting for you. Fred and George too, once they’ve stopped crying over me, that is,” You chuckled, and Harry felt his lips curled up a bit, his eyes slowly closing at the sound of your voice gently lullabying him to sleep.

“And Molly and Arthur… And Ginny, and you know, the rest of Hogwarts.” Harry softly kissed your neck, snuggling a bit further into your neck, your head gently leaning on his, “But I’ve got nothing to kill him with… Voldemort has the Elder Wand… and the snake is still alive.” He softly said, his urge to cry had lessened as he found warmth and comfort being with you, as always.

It pained him a bit that, this could be the last time he could feel you.

“You saw Professor Dumbledore just now, right?” You felt him nod and you smiled, “Well, he told me this before we went to meet you, just in case you’re feeling helpless. Which you are,” You both chuckled.

“Help will always be given at Hogwarts, to those who deserve it. And he said…” You trailed off, noticing Harry’s breaths got gentler and his head felt heavy on your crook of neck. You smiled sadly, kissing his forehead softly, lingering there for a while to cherish the moment.

“And he said what..?” Harry asked slowly, his eyes slowly felt heavy, your heartbeat was gentle, and he felt so calm. He smiled softly at the feeling of your lips on his forehead, “And he said… Do not pity the dead. Pity the living… And above all, all those who live without love.” You finished, your voice was slowly volumed down to a whisper.

“Y/N…” Harry mumbled with his eyes closed, feeling his consciousness slowly slipping away, “Is this all real? Or is it just happening inside my head?”

You chuckled at his question, “Why, of course, it’s happening inside your head, Harry…”  You trailed off, feeling that your short time with Harry is about to end by the looks of him slowly slipping into sleep, “Why should that mean, that it’s not real?”

Harry was asleep now, and right before he went unconscious, his ears heard the last words you said to him, “In another life, I would be your love, Harry. We’d keep all our promises, and it’ll only be us against the world…”

“I love you, always and forever, my darling.”

---------------------------------------------------

The rest came out as a blur. Harry had killed Voldemort, with the help from Neville who slashed the giant snake with the sword of Gryffindor, and the war was finally… over.

While Harry was glad that the war was over, he couldn’t feel happy. He still lost you. He had lost a lot of people, and sometimes Harry wondered if their deaths were even worth it.

Two weeks after the Second Wizarding War had ended, was your funeral. Everyone was there, the professors, your friends, your family, even some house elves to pay their respects. Harry was- unfortunately- in charge of doing a speech at your funeral, and he despised it, even when he felt the need to do so, nevertheless.

There he was, standing on a podium, looking to the crowd who had come for you. “Hello everyone, thank you so much for coming today.” He started, the nervousness inside of him was astounding.

“As you all know, Y/N and I have a very special relationship. Almost everyone in Hogwarts knows how close we were, platonically and romantically. Y/N was my best friend, my lover, and I could bravely say, the one who I could see spending the rest of my life with.”

Sad smiles spread across the room, and Harry couldn’t help but etch a sad smile to himself.

“Y/N died saving lives and defeating the bad, and the fact that they did it with no hesitation speaks volumes of their personality. Y/N was brave, kind-hearted, humorous, and humble. They were fierce, and they knew when to stand up for what’s right and say what was wrong. Y/N was simply… amazing.”

Hermione was already crying on Ron’s shoulder and Fred was looking down guiltily. Harry sighed quietly, he had told Fred it was none of his fault that Y/N died, but he still blamed himself for it.

“And being the amazing person they are, they wouldn’t want us to blame ourselves. They wouldn’t want us to feel bad for them, they would want us to smile whenever we remember our moments with them.” Harry said, trying to calm himself down as he felt a lump on his throat starting to grow.

“I remember a quote from my late godfather, Sirius Black, a few years ago. He said,” Harry paused, clearing his throat to ease the dull aching in his heart.

“The ones that love us never really leave us. And you can always find them…” Harry brought his hand to his heart, smiling with glassy eyes, “In here.”

---------------------------------------------------

It was hard.

It was hard to live without you.

He would wake up screaming during the middle of the night, the memories of him finding you in the Great Hall had rewinded inside his dreams every single night. While staying together with the Weasleys at the Burrow helped him a lot with his recovery, the nightmares had become so constant that Ron had to cast a ‘Muffliato’ charm to their shared bedroom every night to not disturb anyone else.

And being the great friend he is, Ron would always wake up and comfort Harry, lending him his shoulder when Harry needed to cry. He would accompany Harry to the kitchen, to get a mug of warm tea and talk about the dream, or in some days, just sit together quietly at the patio, watching the sun rises as it does every day.

Every morning as Molly walked down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, she wouldn’t forget to see Harry and Ron already being there, talking to each other quietly. And she wouldn’t forget to kiss their heads along with a motherly ‘Good Morning’ each time before she started. They would accompany her while she cooks, sometimes Harry would lend her a hand to make himself busy.

A few weeks into their routine, Fred slowly joins them in.

The first time Molly walked down and expected two heads already in the kitchen but came to see three, Molly had engulfed Fred in a tight hug as she cried on his chest. She kissed his cheeks repeatedly afterward, receiving a playful groan from Fred and chuckles from her two other sons.

A day at the Burrow was never dull. There was always something to do. Cleaning the house, de-gnoming the garden, feeding the pigs and cows, cleaning the barn, watering the flowers, fixing the leaking ceilings, and Harry’s favorite, playing Quidditch at the front yard.

Sometimes he would join the twins and Ginny, sometimes he would sit back and watch the game, and sometimes he would just stay in his room, watching the game from the window.

When those days came, he would spend the entire time reliving his memories with you. Harry could remember the first few weeks when he stayed at the Burrow; he went into a panic attack when he realized he had forgotten some of his memories with you. He felt like he couldn’t breathe then, he felt his chest constricting his lungs. Molly had to brew him a heavy calming potion to stop him from wailing your name with tears strolling down his face.

Ever since that incident, Harry had kept every single memory he had with you into tubes, his memories forming into glowing blue strings with the help of his wand. He had the tubes labeled, every single one of them.

‘Y/N riding a broom at First Year’

‘First Hogsmeade Date’

‘Yule Ball’

‘Christmas at the Burrow’

‘First Kiss’

‘Our Last Hug’

Harry had thought the action was too much, but he couldn’t help it. Even if his lips were smiling and his eyes were crinkling in laughter, he found himself missing you at every second. The Weasleys had become his family for years at this point, and the Burrow had become his home.

But somehow, only you and he knew your true homes are each other.

During Christmas, Andromeda Tonks would come by with little Teddy, Harry’s godson. While Andromeda would spend time with Arthur and Molly, Harry would spend as much time as he could with Teddy. He finds himself and Teddy to be very similar, losing their parents at a young age.

And Harry had sworn to himself not to let Teddy relive the life he once had before Hogwarts. In some way, he had seen Teddy as your honorary replacement. While nothing could ever replace you in his life; he had sworn the first and last person he’d propose to be you, Teddy filled his heart like no other.

Before he knew it, Harry had reached his 20s. He had grown significantly better from mourning you every second to smiling gently whenever your name was mentioned. He moved away from the Burrow, purchasing a cottage at Godric’s Hollow with the money he was inherited, with Ron as his housemate.

“Uncle Harry! Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Harry groaned as a tiny body jumped on his bed, disrupting his sleep. He sleepily looked at the alarm clock, groaning once again at the little child he had agreed to stay with him over the summer, “Teddy, it’s 8 am, let Uncle Harry sleep…”

He heard the five-year-old whine in disagreement, “But Uncle Harry! You promised me we could go to Uncle Fred and Uncle George’s shop today!” Harry oof-ed as Teddy jumped on his body, sprawling on him, the little’s tousled hair glowed bright ginger.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, hugging the child on his chest playfully, “What I promised was we’ll go to the shop after we visited St. Mungos to visit Uncle Fred’s new-born baby, Teddy.”

The boy pouted, “The same thing… Ooh! Can we have pancakes?” Teddy was fast to change the subject, and Harry laughed in amusement. He sat up, still hugging the little boy, and kissed him on the cheek, “Alright, alright. Let me shower first. Wait- Where’s Uncle Ron?”

“Aunt Hermione had come over early to steal him away. She said she wants to have a breakfast date with him.” Teddy said innocently and Harry rolled his eyes, “Of course she did.”

“Oh, Uncle Harry?” Teddy chirped, following Harry here and there across the cottage like a baby duck. “Yes, Teddy?” Harry replied, drinking from a bottle of water stored in the fridge.

“I tinkled the bed again.”

---------------------------------------------------

“Oh Harry, it’s so nice to see you after so long!” Molly gushed and gave him a warm hug as Harry and Teddy arrived in St. Mungos by the Floo Powder. Harry smiled warmly at the woman, “I’ve missed you too, Molly.”

Everyone was there, even Ron and Hermione. “Really, Mione? The least you could do is tell me.” Harry chuckled as he came over to hug the girl who laughed slightly. “Well I did, I told Teddy to tell you.” She said, hugging the little boy hello afterward.

George then appeared from the ward, “Come on lads, the baby’s awake now.”

The group walked into the private ward Fred had arranged for his wife. He had met her when she first moved into Diagon Alley, with her flower shop just across the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes about a year ago. Fred found comfort in her immediately, you could say it was love at first sight for both of them.

In an instant, there were coos and awes spreading across the ward. In Fred’s arm, was a baby bundled up in purple cloth with a beanie on its head, eyes were blinking slowly, and a tiny hand was holding Fred’s index finger. Right beside him, was his wife sitting up on the bed, looking rightfully exhausted.

“Oh, Fred, the baby’s lovely!” Fleur gushed as she hugged Fred’s wife hello. The woman was beautiful, black long hair with a striking pair of hazel eyes. If Harry had remembered correctly, her name was Lara.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Ron asked, and Fred gently smiled, his eyes never left his precious child, “It’s a girl.”

Fred softly removed the beanie from his daughter’s head, and the crowd’s smile widened at the sight of the famous ginger hair. “At least we know she’s really a Weasley now,” George joked, and they chuckled.

“Uncle Harry, up, up,” Teddy said as he lifted his arms to Harry, and Harry lifted him to let him see. Teddy saw the baby, and her striking orange hair, he giggled and without him knowing, his hair turned to ginger as well.

They laughed again, and Harry playfully gasped, “Teddy’s a Weasley? Oh my,” He said, tickling the child’s belly, and Teddy giggled.

“Wanna know what her name is?” Fred asked, and attention went to him again. “Hurry up then, don’t leave us hanging,” Ginny remarked playfully, expecting Fred to roll his eyes but instead, his smile widened.

“Everybody, please welcome, my daughter; Charlotte Y/N Weasley.”

Harry snapped his eyes from the baby to Fred, and the tall ginger sent him a knowing smile with tear-filled eyes. “Fred had wanted to name her Y/N for a while now, he said they saved his life.” Lara softly said, speaking for her husband.

The crowd was quiet until Molly came forward and hugged her son, “I love it,” She whispered, fearing if her voice got any louder, the trembling in it would sound so loud.

“This way, they’ll be with us, always.” Fred huffed laughter, trying so hard not to cry. Harry had mirrored his expression; tears were starting to fill his eyes. “I feel like Charlotte’s not going to be her name around the house now,” Hermione said, chuckling as she wiped the happy tears away.

Ron snickered, “Bet Charlotte’s her middle name now,” And the crowd erupted in laughter. Harry couldn’t laugh, his eyes were trained to the new-born whose name is now after you.

“What do you think, Harry?” Fred asked, smiling knowingly at the longing expression Harry had.

Harry was feeling a lot of things. It has been more than 3 years since you passed, and he hadn’t forgotten you ever since. He had told Teddy fun facts about you ever since the summer started, and he had seen you in his dreams smiling lately. For some reason, he didn’t feel sad at all, he was elated at the sight of young Charlotte Y/N in front of him.

Already knowing that she’s going to grow up as an amazing person, he gave Fred a bright smile as he said,

“She’s wonderful.”

[captainsimagines]

traitor

Summary: It was only one night, no strings attached, just two friends working through their grief together. Steve went to live his life with Peggy and within two weeks of returning, he peacefully passed. Unimaginable things happen everyday, jokes have negative consequences, and protection doesn’t always protect from the possibility… the possibility of carrying a child. He would have stayed if he knew, everyone agrees with this, so why is the world calling Steve Rogers a traitor?

One-Shot (with a happy ending)

Pairing(s): Avengers x Fem Reader; brief Steve Rogers x Fem Reader

Warnings: Unexpected pregnancy; serious talks about abortion; brief mention of suicide (if you squint); mentions of Endgame deaths; strong language; minor descriptions of actual birth; ANGST but with a happy ending! This is purely fanfiction. 

Word Count: 6,600+

A/N: So, Olivia Rodrigo’s album just came out and dude, jfc every song is magical. like... wtf. This is essentially a ‘song fanfic’, but ehhhh not quite. The lyrics don’t match the fanfic lmao but the melody does??? idk this is a shit ton of angst, be warned. It was from a request I got a while back, so this is kind of a request fanfic. 

~

Up until the moment Steve pressed his soft lips to yours, you were certain you had never experienced such a wonderful sensation of magic. You had been witness to actual magic, to beings from other worlds, and yet Steve’s gentle touch was enough to erase any other image, to completely overpower your senses, a kind of magic that dug deep into the trenches of your heart and settled in its new home. 

No, you and Steve were not a couple. There were some flirty remarks over the years, some fantasies that lay dormant, but there was never the craving to actually act upon them. But when half the world disappeared and the remaining Avengers came up with a plan five years later, the loss of a teammate prompted the sudden push of two touch-starved individuals. The rest of the team had gone to sulk in their own corners of the compound, some hard at work at constructing the final piece to the puzzle, and you and Steve ventured off to the kitchen. Two cups of tea each, silent but heavy tears mixing in with the sugar and milk. 

You were the first to break, shoulders crumbling and knees rocking under your weight. You fell to the floor, sobs and hiccups forming into a full-blown attack, your hands scratching at your neck. Steve fell beside you, pulling you into his chest and rocking you back and forth. He cried too, the final words of his best friend ringing in his ears like a dreaded song on repeat. See you in a minute. See you in a minute. See you in a minute. 

Time was irrelevant, you had enough of counting time, estimating it, time-traveling through it. If you could sit there all night, all week, another five years huddled close to Steve Rogers, then so be it. 

‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ you had sobbed. 

‘I can’t believe it either. I can’t,’ he had cried back. 

You had simply lifted your head and turned his face toward yours, searching his eyes for any hesitation before you had leaned in first. He had returned the intimate gesture almost immediately, gripping you tightly. Tears dripped in between your moving lips, sobs caught inside breathy moans, grips becoming tighter and tighter as each of you shared your first time together. No other partner up until that point had ever pulled such a pained but grateful cry from your throat, no other human being had ever made you feel so safe and peaceful. 

The final battle was over, you had lost yet another teammate, but the world had a chance to start over. And Steve had pulled you aside a few days before he returned the stones, letting you know that he wasn’t coming back the same man. He had been so scared of telling you, of possibly betraying you, but when your palms cupped his cheeks and you gave him a kiss on the lips with a soft whisper of ‘Be with her. Cherish her. Be happy. We’ll meet again’, his worries instantly shattered. He could only rapidly nod his head, grabbing your hands that were soaked in his tears, and kissing them until he said his final goodbyes. 

And he returned such a different man, but with a smile you had never quite seen before. Yes, he was older and you only had a few seconds to actually process that, but he was happy. He had been happy. He finally lived the life he deserved. 

Sitting in that pew two weeks later, both sad and happy tears streaming down your face, you felt at peace for the first time in a long time. You simply gripped Wanda’s hand as they carried the casket down the aisle, a sad melody drowning the church. 

`

The first round of sickness hit you the day of the funeral, but you obviously didn’t think much of it. It was the fits of sadness and grief, the hot coil in the middle of your stomach, you thought. It had to be. It wasn’t until your breakfast was regurgitated into your toilet only a few minutes after enjoying it that you were suddenly worried. 

You sneaked to some liquor store a subway ride away, careful of not leaving a trail. This was embarrassing, it was insane, it couldn’t possibly be real. You gave the cashier your money and ran to the stall provided, peeing on the stick the best you could before placing it on the dirty sink in the corner. You patted your hands on your thighs repeatedly, careful to not touch any other thing in a goddamn liquor store bathroom. 

‘Friday?’ your voice was so defeated, tears already stinging your eyes.

Your little bluetooth sprang to life, ‘Yes, Y/N?’

Your bottom lip was trembling wildly, hands now shaking. ‘Can you stay active with me while I read the results? I can’t… I can’t be alone right now.’

‘Yes, Y/N. Anything you need, I’m here.’ You sobbed openly, thanking her under your breath. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to contact anybody else?’

‘I can’t face them. I can’t face them if it’s positive, Friday.’

‘Okay, it’s alright,’ her voice was so delicate, so quiet and reassuring. ‘Just keep talking to me, Y/N. I think the results should be ready now.’

You inched closer to the test. ‘I’m scared, Friday.’

‘I know,’ Friday sighed, ‘But you will get through this. No matter the result.’

Grabbing the small device from the sink, you swallowed so much saliva that it actually hurt. The plus sign was so clear, so evident in its visibility, and your ears only registered the loud cries escaping your painful lungs because Friday was practically yelling in your ear. 

‘Please, calm down Y/N! Your heart rate is too fast-” she was stuttering, an AI was stuttering. ‘I’m calling for help. You need someone to be here with you. I’m sorry.’

It took ten minutes. Ten minutes of banging outside the bathroom door from the cashier, ten minutes of blurry vision and a strep throat. Sam broke through the door as quickly as he could, eyes flying around the small bathroom until he saw you huddled in the corner, a pregnancy test clutched in your small hand. He crouched down beside you, hands extended but not exactly touching you, and eyes trying to lock with yours. 

‘Y/N, Y/N?’

Just the sound of his voice, the voice of someone who didn’t need this added pain in their lives, it was just too much. Another weight added to your shoulders. 

‘I don’t know why,’ you choked out, ‘I’m so sorry.’

Sam’s face contorted into a pained expression, eyes brimmed with salty tears. ‘What are you talking about? No one is blaming you for anything. You’re safe, I’m here.’

You shook your head violently, ‘I didn’t mean to.’

But as quickly as those words left your mouth, the pounding in your head had become too unbearable. You collapsed into Sam’s arms. 

`

You woke to a single doctor who was monitoring your vitals. She was just sitting beside your bed, clicking random buttons on the screen in front of her. You whimpered slightly, the bright lights temporarily blinding you. The doctor quickly stopped what she was doing and removed the tube from your nose, allowing you to breathe on your own. You ignored the weird scratch that caused, and asked her the question you needed to have answered by a true medical professional - not a liquor store device. 

She confirmed what you already knew. There were no ‘congratulations’ or even ‘I’m sorry’s’, just the fact that you were pregnant and it was very early on. There were still options for you, it was healthy so far, you were healthy so far- 

Wait, options? 

The team were all huddled outside, nerves all over the place. They didn’t know what was going on. Sam knew but it wasn’t his information to pass on. It wasn’t until Bucky’s angry demeanor actually turned violent, a hole forming through the hospital wall. You were all on a private floor, completely displaced from the reality down on other levels, so any freak-outs were only slightly justified. Slightly. 

‘Sam, you gotta tell us. I made a promise to Steve, Sam! I promised to take care of her!’

Bucky’s words gripped Sam’s heart in a metaphorical vice. ‘She’s gotta tell you guys, man. It’s not my place.’

You had curled in on yourself, the doctor’s words echoing louder and louder. 

‘Abortion is an option. At this rate, it would be quick and safe. I can promise you that. It’s your choice.’

You wanted to die. You wanted the world to swallow you up and bury you alive. You wanted to disappear. If you had died in the snap, this wouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened. 

The ride back to the compound was a quiet one, with Sam driving you and the radio on low volume. 

‘Are you going to tell them?’

You bit your lip, ‘The doctor said I had options.’

Sam’s breath hitched and he tried to mask it, but you had heard it. You felt guilty, disgusting, like you betrayed Steve and the rest of the team. They had just lost him, you had just lost him, and you were carrying his child. And if Steve would have known, he would have wanted it. He would have encouraged you to have it, he would have been so happy, he would have been such a great fa-

‘The choice is yours, Y/N.’ He glanced over at you, ‘Can you at least tell me who the father is?’

The wrecked sobs were like second nature now, choking you with their strength. ‘I’m so sorry!’

Sam pulled to the side of the road and quickly took off his seatbelt, sliding over in the connected front seats to pull you into his chest. ‘Shh, hey. We are not going to be mad at you. Everything’s going to be okay. It may not seem like it now but-’

‘Sam!’ you cried, clutching his shirt in a tight fist. ‘I swear it was an accident! Steve didn’t know! He didn’t know, I swear he didn’t know!’

Sam’s mouth dropped open, an almost embarrassing noise of surprise sounding from the depths of his soul. He ran his hands through your hair, eyes rapidly searching for a single viewpoint. But he couldn’t focus on any one thing, not when you were shuddering against him and apologizing nonstop. 

Steve didn’t know. 

`

The team had reacted in a similar manner. They so desperately wanted to wish you a congratulations, it was the norm for this kind of thing. Especially with such a rough few years - bringing life into this world could be considered an ultimate blessing. But this was Steve’s child, his baby, his only baby in this timeline. It was a part of him, something he had unknowingly left behind. 

The team took a few days. The pain of losing Natasha, of losing Steve, of losing Tony. The gift of life. It was just too much. 

And you found yourself in front of Wanda’s bedroom door, hands clutching your night robe closed and knees wobbly. She brought you tea, she laid underneath the covers with you, she spooned you until you stopped crying. 

‘We weren’t together.’

‘You weren’t?’

You sat up, muscles straining due to your thousandth crying session that week. ‘No, it was one time. It was a mutual thing. We just… felt safe. And we made love.’

Wanda shut her eyes briefly, only to open them for two parallel tears to slip. ‘That sounds beautiful.’

‘We used protection. It really was an accident.’

Wanda interrupted, ‘No, don’t try and justify yourself. It happened. It’s done.’

You whimpered, reaching out to grab her hands. ‘I feel so guilty for even talking to you. I don’t know how you did it. I’m so selfish to be pouring all this on you-’

‘Hey, hey,’ she whispered, ‘But I am the only one who can truly understand. I have lost more in my lifetime than anybody ever should. But I am going to help you get through this, Y/N.’

You pulled her into a hug, ‘I missed you so much. I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this.’

Wanda slowly pulled away, eyes cloudy and touch of red twinge flying in her irises. ‘Alright. I won’t leave your side. No matter what you decide.’

` 

The chair was cold, the room was cold, no matter how inviting the hospital tried to make this room. It was decorated in the most neutral colors, so delicate in its designs, pamphlets and books scattered on every available surface. It was made to make the pregnant person feel secure, to feel comfortable in the hands of their doctor, but it just made you sick. 

And when the doctor asked if you would like an ultrasound first, that it wasn’t actually necessary for you to view it, you found yourself saying yes. You were at six weeks, it would be there. Wanda clenched her eyes shut, because even if you were strong enough to do that, she wasn’t. But she was here to hold your hand. She would hold your hand no matter what. 

It was the size of a grain of rice. That fuzzy, white figure off a little to the right of your uterus was the size of a grain. A literal grain of rice. The monitor shifted and the doctor cleared their throat, the slimy device absentmindedly being circled around your lower abdomen. 

‘Oh my god,’ you whispered, eyes locked on the place the doctor had their finger. Wanda brought her hand up to her mouth and looked away. 

That’s when you heard it. 

The steady rhythm of a strong heartbeat. 

Your chest started heaving, tears staining your cheeks as you listened to the beautiful sound. 

‘I’m so sorry,’ the doctor mumbled, ready to pull the monitor’s plug to end the live video but you gripped their arm before they could. 

‘No, no!’ you yelped, the heartbeat still sounding, so early in its actual life that this was for sure Steve’s child. 

You turned to Wanda, face contorting into one of agonizing regret. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Steve.’

Wanda gulped and took in a ragged breath, ‘Y/N, Steve’s not here.’

‘No,’ you whined, head turning back to look at the monitor. The monitor with yours and Steve’s child on it. ‘This is the only real part of him we have left, right?’

Wanda opened her mouth but shut it again, unable to formulate a proper response. 

‘This is Steve’s child,’ you stated, sucking in a breath through your sobs. ‘This is my child.’

` 

The team was alerted of your decision the minute you walked into the common room. They had known what you left for, dread itching in their souls and morals twisting greedily, but they hadn’t stopped you. They couldn’t do that to you. 

‘Hi,’ you mumbled, placing your things on the counter. Everyone kept their heads down, lumps growing in their throats as each second passed. ‘I’m okay.’

Clint was the first one to speak. ‘Did everything go well? Did they hurt you?’

You smiled with your teeth for the first time in weeks, ‘No, they didn’t hurt me. They didn’t even touch me.’

For a few seconds, no one caught on to your words. But Bucky was the first to register them, to etch them deeply into his brain, to stand from his seat and walk to you cautiously. ‘You decided-?’

You smiled wide now, happy tears falling over your strained cheeks. ‘I’m having a baby.’

The team erupted, cries and cheers deafening you. Bucky stumbled over and hugged you close, arms wrapped over your shoulders and face buried in your neck. He had to bend his knees to keep that position. He weeped into your shoulder and thanked you repeatedly, his own body rumbling with broken sobs. You held him close, fingers digging into his shirt and the skin of his back. 

‘We promise, Y/N,’ Sam said off to the side, waiting for his turn to hug you. ‘We promise to take care of you and this baby.’

A few more long-awaited congratulations were shared. ‘Guess I’m on desk duty for the next nine months, huh?’

Bucky held you tighter. 

`

The first four months were certainly eventful. Wanda insisted on taking pictures of you every few weeks. She had you model with a nice tight shirt to show off your growing stomach, different props in your arms as the weeks passed on.  Flowers, sporting equipment, random Avengers inventions, signs that read the number of weeks you were at. You even did couple shoots, with your teammates posing behind you with their hands on your stomach and an equally bright smile.

She had them printed out and framed, the compound common rooms now littered with random photos of you and your growing child. It was like a timeline, a museum considering you would catch someone inspecting the photographs. This time it was Scott, casually eating his cereal and balancing it in his hand as he walked the hallway. He had this silly smile on his face the whole time, milk dripping from his bottom lip. In his photo, he was posed behind you with a giant smile, back arched and head thrown back while you were trying your best to arch your back as well. And then he saw you watching him, eyes falling from your face to your stomach, and that silly smile growing wider. 

Happy insisted on doing yoga with you every other morning, his chosen playlists actually Tony’s. Half expecting the songs to only emit the essence of rock and roll, you were surprised when the playlist only contained acoustics. Happy winked at you, ‘He was a man of taste, Y/N. He, too, had those sad driving songs.’

Peter was hesitant to visit at first. He was still mourning Tony, as you all were, and seeing everyone again was certainly a hard thing to do. But he managed, and the moment he saw you there, trying to balance a plastic bottle on your tiny stomach, he burst into a fit of giggles. 

‘Oh, oh! I almost got it!’ you encouraged yourself, stomach not yet protruded enough to quite get it. 

Peter rushed over and caught the bottle as it slipped, ‘You’ll get there. How do you feel?’

You grinned at the kid, ‘Like I’m pregnant.’

Peter chuckled, ‘I wouldn’t know, so.’

‘It’s weird,’ you admitted, turning back to your abandoned bowl of fruit. You popped a piece of pineapple in your mouth, ‘But I just remind myself that they’re gonna be an angel when they come out.’

‘All slimy and angelic.’

You swatted at Peter, ‘They’re healthy. That’s all that matters.’

Peter placed his hand on your stomach, half-expecting something to happen. ‘I can’t believe you’re having his baby.’

You bit your lip, willing yourself not to cry. Steve should be here experiencing this. ‘Me neither.’

`

The next month had come so quickly. Your friends - your family - made sure to keep you occupied. Whether it was to shop, to nap together, to eat together, to exercise together, anything, they were by your side. It was so overwhelming at times, but not wanting to scare anyone, you took time for yourself whenever you could. You’d settle in your room, in a nearby cafe, in Natasha’s room, and just sit and breathe. With one hand on your stomach, you couldn’t possibly fathom the luck on your side. It always tore your heart in two when you realized Steve would never meet his child, absolutely mutilated it. But the realization that this child was going to have such a massive family, your family, uncles and aunts who would die for the kid - that realization was sometimes too much. 

The thunder from outside startled everyone. The quiet night everyone was having was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a certain god, hair now cut and beard trimmed, running into the common area. He was practically hyperventilating, his quick pace halting as he scanned the room. ‘Is it true?’

‘You got my message?’ Wanda asked, shutting off the water from the sink. 

‘I’m sorry, I was away. I just got the message and-’

Thor lay his eyes on you, your obvious stomach, and he started crying softly. ‘It’s true?’

You smiled at him, opening your arms for an embrace. But Thor fell to his knees in front of you, forehead resting on your stomach. ‘This is a miracle.’

‘It really is,’ you laughed, wiping away a few stray tears. ‘The condom broke.’

Laughter sounded almost instantly. 

Thor looked up at you, eyes red and eyebrows furrowed. ‘He didn’t know?’

You shook your head, ‘No, Steve didn’t know. I promise.’

Thor nodded, believing you. He stood slowly, encasing you in a tight squeeze. He hadn’t changed much since you last saw him, but he did seem to be drinking less. ‘After so much loss, the Heaven’s send us a gift from a beloved friend.’

`

Bucky seemed to be the happiest. Although he shared your beliefs that Steve should be here to experience this, to cherish this, to be the father he had deserved to be, Bucky couldn’t help but feel grateful that you decided to keep the baby. He knew he needed to stop relying on Steve to fix his mind, this he had to do on his own, but the bundle of joy inside of you just added to his undying love for his best friend. This was a piece of him, a true half of Steve’s heart that would soon be breathing air and opening its eyes. 

He was currently laying beside you, just woken up from a nap and lazily drawing circles over your clothed tummy. You were still asleep, deep breaths a little ragged since you were twisted slightly to your side. You had given up trying to sleep on your back nowadays. 

‘Hey there,’ Bucky whispered, a funny smile forming on his face because he can’t believe he’s talking to your literal stomach. ‘You know you’re a miracle, right?’

There was no response, obviously. But Bucky just positioned himself to lean on his elbow, temple resting in the palm of his hand. ‘We’re going to love you so much. Steve would have loved you so much.’

He placed his metal hand on your stomach, careful not to apply so much pressure. He was hesitant though, the metal hand now from Wakanda but still something he didn’t entirely trust. Still, he rubbed smooth circles on your side. ‘I already love you so much.’

Kick.

Bucky widened his eyes, a hitch in his breath. Was that real?

‘Did you just respond to me?’ Bucky asked, a little laugh escaping his lips. ‘Should I say it again?’

Nothing happened for a long while. He switched hands, rubbing a little deeper now. It was a free massage for you, anyway. 

Bucky bit his lip and looked up at your face, still peacefully dreaming. He leaned closer to your stomach and repeated his earlier confession. ‘I love you.’

Kick. 

Bucky shot up from his spot on the bed and covered his mouth, a loud laugh accidentally escaping and startling you awake. 

‘W-What?’

‘They kicked! They kicked!’

‘Seriously?’

Bucky was shooting through the stars, because even though it was a long shot, he felt like somehow Steve was telling him he loved him back. 

`

Sam’s leg bounced madly as he watched the doctor slick up the generator. You repeatedly tried to calm him, tell him that it would be quick and simple, and there was nothing to be worried about. 

You were six months now. Belly now protruding to the point where you could only see the tips of your toes when you glanced downward, and the baby was positioned farther into your back. If anything, you were having a giant freaking baby. He was a product of a super soldier. 

You remembered having that scary conversation with the doctors, your whole family beside you as they heard and relayed the information. 

‘Your baby is perfectly healthy. The serum isn’t affecting it. His lungs are forming less quickly than the other organs but there’s no serious worry.’

Bucky had literally cackled at that, confusing everyone in the room. ‘Steve and his shit lungs.’

But now you were finding out the sex. Only one person was allowed in the room this time, and Sam had literally begged you with his eyes to choose him. 

‘Are you two ready?’

You each nodded at the doctor, waiting for the monitor to spring to life. After a few seconds, the heartbeat was detected. You gripped Sam’s hand in yours, a quiet ‘thank god’ passing through his lips. 

Then the giant image of a literal baby appeared on the screen. It was so surreal. It resembled a quick sketch, like one Steve would have casually drew, and you couldn’t help but imagine him drawing that very image from memory. 

‘Y/N, I-’ Sam cleared his throat, smiling at you. 

‘Would you like to know the sex of the baby?’

‘Yes, please,’ you answered, gripping Sam’s hand harder. 

The doctor moved the generator a few times more, hitting the spacebar on the computer to capture the image. ‘Congratulations, you’re having a boy.’

You shuttered a tiny laugh as Sam flew out of his seat, arms extended upward for a moment before he brought his hands down to kiss them over and over. 

‘I’ll print this out for you,’ the doctor smiled, leaving you and Sam to celebrate. 

`

Everyone had gathered later that night to find out the news. You had printed enough copies for everyone who wanted one. Bets were placed, a multitude of gifts already mounted in online shopping carts. 

‘Don’t keep us waiting!’ Rhodey shouted, champagne bottle at the ready and propped up on his thigh for when you made your announcement. 

Sam was standing beside you, a massive grin plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes at him and urged him on, telling him that you were fine with him saying it. Sam didn’t need to be told twice. 

‘It’s a boy!’

Pop! Drinks were poured and hugs were shared, with even Friday coming over the monitor to congratulate you. 

Even in the midst of all the excitement, you felt a little empty. But you enjoyed your pre-baby shower, happy that everything was so unbelievably working out. 

It was midnight when you alerted Friday to call Happy to your room. You needed a ride. 

Happy was slightly irritated at being woken up, but once you told him where you were heading, he obliged. The ride was silent, comfortable, with Happy glancing at you once in a while to make sure you were okay. 

You walked across the grass slowly, hands resting on your stomach and just a little waddle in your walk. You flashed your phone light over the headstones even though the headstone you were looking for was in a secluded area. Happy trailed you, keeping a respectable distance. 

You stopped in front of the small building, the fence somewhat blocking your path. But there was no security around, and even if you were caught on camera, your face let everyone know who you were and your connection to Steve. You had no worries. 

You broke the lock easily and opened the door. It was almost entirely marble, a good deal of Steve’s actual aesthetic. So simple, not overly patriotic, and secluded. He had refused to be buried in Arlington. 

You sat on the bench provided, the three names in front of you standing out like they were begging to be read out loud. So you complied. 

‘Sarah,’ you muttered, smiling as the name rolled off your tongue. ‘Thank you for sending everyone a literal angel.’

You muttered his father’s name as well, but felt no personal connection to it. You spent at least ten minutes building up the courage to utter his name, to say his name in front of him again. He was buried right underneath your feet, his name the only thing for you to see. 

‘Steve,’ you sighed and rubbed your stomach. ‘Steve.’

You sobbed silently and watched as the tears fell on top of your resting hands. ‘I don’t regret it.’

You were met with silence. ‘I don’t regret any of it. God knows why he did this. But you lived your life, and I just can’t believe I have to bring life into this world without you here.’

‘It’s a boy, Steve. A lovely little boy.’

You brought your hand up to your mouth to bite the side of it, throat clenching. ‘Everyone is so happy. I am, too. I promise you.’

You lowered your hand back to your stomach. ‘I just wish that you could feel that happiness.’

The moonlight moved slightly, shining on his name brighter now. ‘He’ll know about you, don’t worry about that.’ You laughed. 

You didn’t want to keep Happy waiting. You stood from the bench slowly, feet sore. You walked closer to him, wishing you could easily bend down and give him a kiss. But you physically couldn’t right now, so you blew him one instead. ‘Thank you.’

`

Somehow the rumor got out that an Avenger was pregnant. And when Wanda was seen outside without a large stomach, all fingers were pointed at you. 

The news went ballistic, most positive and raving, while others pondered just who had gotten you pregnant. You had been seen with everyone in paparazzi photos, so no actual conclusion had been made. 

Until a picture of you at Steve’s gravesite was leaked. 

It was constant bombardment, timelines were stitched together, magazines and their headlines were having a field day. Rhodey had tried to cancel these news stories, to threaten lawsuits, but to no avail. The world was now cursing Steve’s name - ‘how dare he leave her while pregnant?’, ‘how could he leave her pregnant and for another woman?’, ‘did he even know?’

The team had done everything in their power to try and clear yours and Steve’s name, but no one was having it. Steve’s love story was now tarnished, with many calling him a traitor and a deadbeat. It was no use. 

You struggled to climb the stairs, inwardly cursing the staff for not installing a ramp instead. The flashes were blinding, the lights were hot, and the various microphones placed on the stand were comical. 

Everyone hushed, looks of sympathy and pity slapping you in the face. 

‘I know what you’re all thinking and what you’ve all been saying,’ you started, eyes wandering to the far corner of the room where your team were huddled. ‘But I need to clear a few things up.’

‘Steve didn’t know.’

The crowd erupted, questions flying at you like fast bullets. They were silenced after a few moments. ‘We shared a moment with each other before we brought everyone back. I didn’t know I was pregnant until after his funeral.’

The crowd murmured amongst each other. ‘He told me he was planning to stay in another timeline. To live his life. I encouraged him. He did not leave me alone and pregnant. He truly didn’t know.’

You finished, they didn’t deserve a deeper explanation. You ignored their calls for questions, some even trying to crowd you at the doors. But you pushed through them, cradling your stomach with a newfound sense of pride. 

`

It was time. 

You sat up in your bed and quickly wiped away the hard crusts from the corners of your eyes. You sat there for a few seconds before you felt another harsh twinge. ‘A-ah!’

You didn’t know why you paused, legs now thrown over the side of the bed. They felt like menstrual cramps, it could be false labor. You let out a heavy breath and pushed yourself up, legs wobbly. But the moment you did, it was like something snapped. Your legs were wet and a tiny puddle had started forming on the floor. 

‘Friday!’

The lights in your room turned on immediately, ‘Y/N, is it time?’

You moaned at the uncomfortable cramping, ‘Yeah, I think it is.’

‘I’m waking and alerting the team right now, Y/N. Sit back down, please.’

You listened to Friday, sitting at the edge of your bed for a few moments before you realized you had to pack a bag. You shuffled across your room and grabbed the duffel bag Scott had left for you a few days ago. You packed a pair of socks, sweats, underwear, vaseline and your toothbrush, hairbrush, and phone. You zipped your bag just in time for both Bucky and Sam to throw open your door, Sam struggling to put his shoes on and Bucky slipping on a jacket inside-out. 

‘Y/N, is it really time? Are you ready? Are you okay?’

You ignored the cramping in your back and laughed at them, ‘Yes! My water broke, I’m in pain, it’s time.’

With both Sam and Bucky at your sides, they held onto you as you all stumbled down the hallway. Thor was already waiting with the elevator open, the biggest smile on his aging face. 

‘Wanda and Bruce are preparing the room. Scott already called the doctor. Clint’s in route,’ Bucky reassured. The three men huddled into the elevator with you, all instructing you to breathe and to squeeze them if you needed to. 

But even though you were in pain, albeit not as extreme as it was going to inevitably get, you were so incredibly happy. They were all so loud, so chaotic, and you were as calm as a cucumber. 

The elevator dinged. ‘Good luck, Y/N,’ you heard Friday call after you. You pinched your eyes closed, the thought that Friday was ultimately a part of Tony’s consciousness - Tony was wishing you good luck. 

The pressure in your hips was starting to build and you didn’t know how long this would actually take. Some people had quick births, some people lay in labor for hours, some for a day. But it seemed like this was going to be pretty quick, because your next scream was completely involuntarily. 

Bucky winced, leading you to the bed Wanda had just lay sheets on. ‘You’re doing great, Y/N. Absolutely perfect.’

You laughed at Bucky and gripped his hand in silent thanks before slipping into the bed and trying to get comfortable. Before you could truly feel like you made it, like the first hard step was done, you sat up quickly. 

‘Wait, wait! Nat’s sweater! I was gonna wear Nat’s sweater!’

Thor was already out the door, ‘I’ll get it! Don’t worry!’

You smiled at the ceiling, beads of sweat now rolling down your forehead. ‘Oh, this hurts!’

It was an hour. Once you shimmied into Natasha’s purple knitted sweater, you lay there trying to control your breathing. Everyone had piled into the room one right after the other. The room was big enough, spacious enough for even Bruce to roam freely. Although you were in an immense amount of pain, you still focused on your team. 

Scott was on his third cup of coffee, sipping excitedly as he conversed with the others. Bruce was constantly checking your vitals and wanting everything the doctor was saying repeated. Wanda was beside you, a hand gripping yours and the other running ice chips along your lips. Bucky was on your other bedside wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts because it still smelled like him. His logic was that if he was wearing something of Steve’s the first moment he held your baby, then the first thing he smelled would be the remnants of his father. 

And Thor was practically speechless, silent in his own little corner and feeling like the god’s really did bless everyone in this room after such turmoil.

Clint arrived with Peter trailing behind him just when the doctor instructed you sit up - you were at ten centimeters. 

‘You gotta push, Y/N! You gotta push when the doctor says push!’

You yelled until your lungs gave out, head almost rolling back but Sam held it in his palm. ‘C’mon, Y/N! You’re doing great!’

You usually had perfect pitch when you sang, never faltering when it was time to hit a high note. But your voice was cracking at the most unusual times, throat rubbed raw as you felt your hips splinter open. 

‘He’s crowning!’

Wanda traded places with Sam real quick, deciding that she wanted to see the baby when he was finally out. Bucky had a death grip on your hand, tears flowing freely and a smile to match Thor’s. 

‘Push, Y/N! Push!’

‘I’m-I’m! I’m sorry! I can’t!’

The doctor was working her hands around the head, trying to ease the baby out easier. ‘Trust me, Y/N. One more big push and the shoulders will be out. That’s the hardest part.’

The doctor’s words were starting to drown out, and your head lolled back again. You felt tiny smacks on your cheeks, ‘C’mon, Y/N. You can do this. Everyone believes in you. You’re so goddamn strong, Y/N!’

That was Bucky’s voice. Bucky. 

You opened your eyes, delirious for a second. ‘Steve?’

Bucky whimpered and nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing kisses all over. ‘He’s here. I feel him, Y/N. You can do this.’

And you could feel him. You could see your family but you could feel him. It was so light, like a gentle whisk across the cheek, a promise that this truly was a miracle. 

You screamed as you pushed under doctor’s orders, feeling numb and abused but satisfied. His shoulders slipped out and along with them came his arms and torso, legs and all ten toes. The doctor caught him quickly, lifting him up vertically to let you see him. He was already crying. 

‘He’s here!’

You sobbed and smiled widely, laughter rattling your chest as the team bombarded you with quick hugs. Sam remained at your side, his eyes motioning for Bucky to go see the baby. 

‘Who’s cutting the cord?’

You looked around the room but you knew. You answered the doctor’s question. ‘Bucky.’

Bucky was truly confused. Not because of your decision, but because he couldn’t possibly be worthy of this. His hands, those hands that had killed so many people involuntarily, had almost killed Steve, those hands were now gripping a pair of medical scissors to cut the symbolization of new life entering the world. He turned to you for permission one last time, before he gripped the cord in his hand and cut where the doctor pointed. 

His shoulders felt a million times lighter. Like he was set free all over again. 

They cleaned the baby up quickly and swaddled him. The doctor placed him in your arms, all warm and utterly safe, to look back up at you with the same blue eyes as his father. 

You sobbed happily, brushing your fingers delicately along his pink cheek. ‘Hi. Hi there.’

He was no longer crying, just staring up in pure astonishment at the various faces staring back at him. 

‘Y/N, he’s beautiful,’ Clint said, tissue already in hand. 

‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ you spoke softly. 

‘Do we have a name?’

It was like everyone said it in unison. ‘Steve.’

You snuggled into the bed and Natasha’s sweater, somewhat aware of the doctor still fixing you up down there. You would try feeding later, but for now your newborn needed to be passed around the group and be awed at. 

You carefully guided him to Bucky, holding his head gently in your palm. Bucky took him, arms instinctively curling in the correct position. Once Bucky had him in his arms, it was like everything that happened in the world was worth it. Absolutely everything. 

Bucky watched in fascination as the baby curled deeper in his chest, little fist clutching Steve’s sweatshirt. He took the sweetest little intake of air…

`

xxMoni

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt- WWX didn’t die, instead was held captive by JGGY for the 16 years

ao3

“ – his sword has sealed itself. What better evidence that the Yiling Patriarch is dead and gone?”

I’m not, though, Wei Wuxian thought fuzzily. I’m not gone.

Except when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn’t quite manage it. Why couldn’t he open his eyes? Where was he, anyway?

(Dead and gone –)

He remembered the backlash, suddenly, and shuddered. His qi revolting from inside of him, ghostly hands reaching for him, tearing at him – the complete loss of control – pain –  

Am I dead?

Yes, actually, that seemed pretty likely. That backlash…no one could have survived it, not even him.

(Arrogant as always, Wei Wuxian. Haven’t you seen what become of that?)

Okay, I’m dead, he told himself, and it rang true. But that doesn’t answer the question of where am I?

(Questions like “what am I” could be saved for later.)

He could hear, anyway. He wasn’t sure how, but he could. Maybe he could even see?

He tried to see.

He could see.

Blurrily, and not quite right, but he could.

There were people standing around him. The Jin sect, judging by their clothing, and some others – they were arguing over something. Spoils of war…

Hey! He complained. That’s not a spoil of war! That’s my stuff!

Actually, on second thought, maybe they were right. Sure, it was his stuff – was someone trying to lay claim to his shopping list? – but there had been a war, and he’d lost, and that meant his stuff was spoils.

“The greatest contribution, next to the Jiang sect, is ours. Suibian belongs to the Jin sect,” someone said, interrupting Wei Wuxian’s train of thought, and put their hand on him.

Wait.

What?

I’m Suibian?

No, something that wasn’t quite a voice suddenly said. I’m Suibian. You’re Wei Wuxian. Keep it straight.

Wei Wuxian would have gaped, if he’d still had a mouth. Suibian? You – talk?

There was a feeling of amusement. Possibly a bit of mockery. No, definitely mockery, possibly a lot of it.

Is Wei Wuxian’s sword…kind of a dick?

Suibian sniggered.

What am I doing here? Wei Wuxian asked.

I pulled in your souls and spirits when you died, his sword said. They were already setting up soul-summoning rituals for you, and it wouldn’t have gone well for you if they caught you.

No, it wouldn’t have.

You saved me?

I’m your sword, aren’t I? What else am I here for, especially since you no longer wield me?

Wei Wuxian felt a stab of guilt. He’d never once thought about explaining himself to his sword, though in his defense he didn’t know his sword might have feelings on the subject. About that –

Yes, yes, I know, Suibian said. Chenqing explained the whole thing.

…my flute? You talk to my flute?

Please, Suibian said. We’re spiritual weapons. Of course we talk.

Isn’t that only supposed to happen for the weapons of sages? Wei Wuxian argued. Not, you know, run-of-the-mill ones. Er, no offense. Not that you’re not awesome, but I, personally, am very far from a sage.

At least you admit it, Suibian teased. And no, I think that’s just when everyone can start hearing us. We talk amongst ourselves long before that…sometimes I’m jealous of the Nie sect’s sabers. They can talk to their masters a lot earlier than we can.

They can? Even, what, shit he didn’t know any Nie, uh, Nie Huaisang?

…Nie Huaisang doesn’t count and you know it. His saber’s pretty funny, though. Lazier than a sloth.

That sounded about right.

Baxia’s terrifying, though.

That…also sounded right.

Okay, Wei Wuxian said, tearing his mind away from the fascinating question of why the Nie sabers in specific might be able to communicate with their wielders sooner than most and also what that might mean. There were more important things to discuss. Uh, thanks for saving my life. Death? Thanks for saving my souls, anyway.

Don’t embarrass me with gratitude.

Wei Wuxian would have grinned if he’d had a mouth. Yeah, sure, whatever.

They both sniggered at that.

Anyway, what now? I thought I heard…we’re sealed?

How else am I supposed to hide the fact that your souls and spirits are in here? Suibian asked. If someone wields us, they’d know. Wielders always know.

Wei Wuxian didn’t have anything to say about that. He had always known that Suibian was – Suibian. He could have picked up his sword in the dark and known it was his own, rather than another’s.

He just hadn’t known that Suibian had also known.

He’d even known that Suibian had a personality, that he’d – she’d – it –

Hey, do you have a gender? Wei Wuxian asked, distracted. Are you a boy sword or a girl sword –

I am a sword, Suibian said. Please leave your weird human reproduction techniques out of it.

It’s not about reproduction! It’s…hm. Maybe it is about reproduction? I don’t know, I’ve never really questioned it. Something to think about later on. More importantly – what now?

What do you mean?

What do we do now?

I’m not sure I understand.

Wei Wuxian would have rolled his eyes if he’d had them. What is our next step? You rescued me, and now we’re being bartered around as spoils of war. What’s the plan? What do we do now?

Suibian really didn’t seem to understand.

Well, you rescued me! What were you intending happen after that?

Nothing, Suibian said. I rescued you. That was the complete action. There was nothing after that.

You didn’t make a plan?

I’m a sword. We get wielded by others; we don’t – or at least, rarely – take initiative on our own. I’m not a Nie saber or something; I’m not going to hop up one day and go out hunting for evil on my own.

…is that a thing Nie sabers do? Wei Wuxian asked. On second thought, don’t answer that, I don’t have time to process it at the moment. Listen, now that you’ve rescued me, we still have to do something, right? We can’t just sit around on a shelf somewhere in the Jin sect as a trophy!

Suibian’s silence was almost a little pitying.

We can’t do that, Wei Wuxian repeated. Right?  

They were, in fact, placed on a Jin shelf, at least in the beginning.

It was a prominent place, meant to show him off – show it off, really, since no one knew Wei Wuxian was in there.

Wei Wuxian hated it.

He hated the way Jin Guangshan smirked at the sword, very obviously thinking about how he’d ground Wei Wuxian under his heel. He hated the fact that the man was using his research to develop demonic cultivation into something truly monstrous and vile, the reports that were delivered to Jin Guangshan within Wei Wuxian’s hearing enough to make his stomach turn if he still had one.

Reports of entire sects murdered, men women children all, brutally slaughtered as experiments in tests – each one delivered with a calm smile and no regret.

Wei Wuxian hated that.

He hated, too, the fact that his demonic cultivation, that new invention of his, was treated as nothing but a stepping stone, a tool used to help the Jin sect gain power and ascendance over the other sects – that was what this had always been about, he realized belatedly, too late to do any good.

He’d always known that Jiang Cheng had only cast him out of the Jiang sect because of pressure from the rest of the cultivation world, but somehow he hadn’t realized that that pressure was manufactured, that it was intentional, that he’d always been meant to either yield or die because the Jin sect wanted his power and his Tiger Seal and his secrets. Even if he’d still had a golden core, even if he’d set aside demonic cultivation the way they asked, it still would have ended up the same way in the end.

He’d given the Jiang sect power and influence – and the Jin sect didn’t like that.

But what Wei Wuxian hated most of all, above even the sickening reports of the Jin sect’s crimes, was –

“You look well, Sect Leader Jiang,” Jin Guangshan said, blatantly lying.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were rimmed with red, whether with tears or an incipient qi deviation, and he stared vacantly at Jin Guangshan as if he didn’t quite understand his meaning. He’d lost weight, his cheekbones sharper than they’d been since the worst days of the war when they hadn’t had enough food, and he didn’t seem entirely – sane.

What happened to him? Wei Wuxian demanded. He might be the one who was living a half-life, but Jiang Cheng looked it.

He’s all alone, Suibian said. Like a sword that hasn’t been drawn in years, not even to be sharpened –

I said I was sorry about no wielding you, okay! But no, seriously, what have the Jin sect been doing to him?

Why are you asking me? I’ve been here, same as you.

“Stop the small talk,” Jiang Cheng finally said, interrupting Jin Guangshan’s odious discourse about the general state of the cultivation world, the satisfactory improvement in trade, and even the weather. “We both know why I’m here.”

Jin Guangshan stopped talking, and smiled his viper’s smile that Wei Wuxian wanted to scrub off his face. Preferably with the flat of Suibian’s blade. “It’s a very impudent request, you know,” he said, leaning back. “One could even say that it’s offensive that you even suggested it.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him. His knuckles were white from how hard his fists were clenched. “That’s not a no,” he said. His normally sharp voice was dulled. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s not,” Jin Guangshan agreed. “But if you want something from me, you have to give something in return.”

Haven’t you taken enough from him? Wei Wuxian shouted. You forced him to get rid of me, you forced my hand at the Qiongqi Path and led to everything that happened next, you – you – you greedy pig!

Now, now, Suibian said. What have pigs ever done to you?

Jiang Cheng swallowed and closed his eyes. He looked tired – exhausted – broken into pieces. The Jin sect ought to be helping him rebuild, helping him survive, not extorting him for whatever it was they wanted now.

“I understand,” Jiang Cheng said, through thin and bloodless lips.

Don’t do it! Whatever it is they want from you, refuse, it’s not worth it, Wei Wuxian tried to tell him, though he knew Jiang Cheng couldn’t hear him, couldn’t understand. You don’t know what they’re doing in secret, in the dark – if you knew, you’d be disgusted. Horrified. I know you would be. You’d stop them. If you agree to whatever it is that they want, you’ll think that you were complicit in it when you find out about it, no matter if you weren’t. Don’t agree!

But of course Jiang Cheng couldn’t hear him.

“I’m glad you do,” Jin Guangshan said, slippery and slimy even as he pretended to sound paternal, and Wei Wuxian might learn to hate him even more than he hated Wen Chao. He put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, squeezed it, and Jiang Cheng let him – yes, Wei Wuxian could easily learn to hate Jin Guangshan, Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao and all the rest of them, just as much as the Wen sect. Maybe even more. “I look forward to working together with the Jiang sect in the future.”

What Jin Guangshan wanted – in exchange for granting whatever request it was that Jiang Cheng had that mattered so much to him – wasn’t going to be anything as easy as cooperation, and Wei Wuxian knew it; he knew it and he burned with the knowledge of it.

With the knowledge that he’d left Jiang Cheng to face this alone.

That he’d allowed himself to leave his brother behind because of the Jin sect’s manipulations – that if he’d only trusted Jiang Cheng enough to share with him his weakness, to stand with him rather than apart from him, they could have stood up to the Jin sect, to the world, they could have done something, and instead he’d selfishly thought he could do everything on his own, that he didn’t need anyone, that they would be better off without him than with him –

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng murmured. He looked even more broken now than he’d been before. “As you say.”

Jin Guangshan’s hand, still on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, tightened. It was visible, which meant that Jin Guangshan’s grip was probably bruising, breaking. “Don’t forget to respect your elders, Sect Leader Jiang. You mustn’t forget your etiquette.”

Wei Wuxian had always respected Jiang Cheng, even when they were children, even when his arrogance refused to admit that there was anyone who could be anywhere near as good as himself, and that respect had only grown over the years. Brave, independent Jiang Cheng, who’d fought so hard to build the Jiang sect back up into something of its own, refusing to yield to fate and allow his inheritance to scatter into the wind –

Watching him kneel to pay homage to a monster, to call him ‘Chief Cultivator’ and agree numbly to support his future proposals – practically giving away his Jiang sect’s independence –

Wei Wuxian wanted to cry.

(Maybe this was what it had all been about. Not his demonic cultivation, not the Tiger Seal, not the power they could give to the Jin sect – this. This display of domination, of oppression; the Jin sect putting the Jiang underfoot.)

Whatever you’re getting for this had better be worth it, Jiang Cheng!

When it was done, Jiang Cheng looked up. “I’ll go now,” he said, throat hoarse as if from keeping himself from screaming – or crying. “I’ll take him – there won’t be any trouble, will there?”

“None whatsoever,” Jin Guangshan said, and smiled. “After all, A-Ling is very young. It’s no hardship to let him be raised a few years by his maternal family, to learn the traditions of the Jiang sect…since after all his poor mother isn’t around to teach him.”

Jiang Cheng barely flinched as he stood to go – he was beyond that – but Wei Wuxian howled in rage and despair.

We have to be able to do something, he begged Suibian. Something – anything! I can’t…this is my fault. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have to do this – please!

He had to admit that Jiang Cheng wasn’t wrong, to do what he did. Complicity, future guilt, present humiliation...it was all worth it. For all the future pain it would cause Jiang Cheng, it was worth it – to him, to Wei Wuxian – anything would be worth saving Jiang Yanli’s son.

Nothing has changed, Suibian said, solemn for once. I’m still just a sword. I can seal myself, but I can’t act on my own, not without a wielder.

Then what do I do?

Cultivate, Suibian said. A lot. I’ve been thinking about it: sword spirits are a thing, so are ghosts – it’ll take a while, but if we work at it, you’ll eventually be able to float outside of me. A while after that, you might even be able to manifest to humans. We’re both pretty bright; it shouldn’t take more than a few years.

Years!

Were you expecting this to be easy?

Wei Wuxian thought about Jiang Cheng, gritting his teeth and disregarding his pride to save his nephew; thought about Jin Guangyao smiling peaceably as he reported on the latest atrocities their pet demonic cultivators had caused in the same tone he used to discuss the weather; thought about that poor child, Mo Xuanyu, who’d been dragged into the Jin sect’s pit of vipers –

No, he said. I guess not.

Let’s begin.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

A Loss

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,125ish

Summary: You find out some news, but also overhear a conversation that affects the news. You go out on a mission, knowing you shouldn’t.

Warnings: injury and loss of life.

Notes: this was requested. Hope y’all enjoy.

It was weird. You hadn’t even realized you were 6 weeks late until you woke up, throwing up on the floor right next to Bucky’s bed. Thank heavens for FRIDAY’s immediate response for calling the maid and that your boyfriend was out on his morning run with Steve. You cleaned yourself up and quickly left for the store before anyone could even notice you were gone.

You were anxious the whole time. Knee bouncing, hands shaking, heart racing. You felt like you were going to pass out as you allowed yourself to pee on that little stick you had just bought. You paced inside the bathroom of your private room. You didn’t want to chance Bucky walking in on you. Plus, you were terrified. Bucky and you and been dating for a little over a year now and not once had the two of you talked about marriage or family. You wanted that all with him, but you feared that he didn’t want that all with you.

When your phone’s timer went off, you froze. It took you what felt like hours to convince yourself to look at the results. It was positive. You were pregnant. The joy that filled your heart did not fill your eyes. Tears of worry filled your eyes and your mind began to wonder how Bucky would take the news. 

“FRIDAY?” You called out. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Sargent Barnes is currently watching TV with Captain Rogers in the common room,” the AI responded. “Would you like me to get him for you?”

“No, I can get him myself.”

You were shaking with excitement and fear as you went down the hall, heading towards the common room. As you drew near, you could hear the men talking about something. You listened closely.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t think that baby in the diaper commercial wasn’t cute, Buck,” Steve teased.

“I never said it wasn’t!” Bucky replied. “I just just ‘eh’.”

“You and Y/N ever talk about having kids? Starting a family?”

“No,” Bucky responded, almost too quickly. You froze, hiding behind the wall to still listen in. “That’s not for me. Maybe back when we were still in the 40’s, definitely not now. Can you imagine, me, being a father?” Bucky scoffed. “Carrying around a child with this metal arm? What stories would I tell it anyway? About that time I murdered Stark’s parents? Can you imagine—“

“Alright, alright,” Steve chuckled. “I get it. Have you at least talked to Y/N about this? She might have an opinion on the matter too.”

“No I haven’t. And I don’t plan on it until she brings it up.”

“Seriously, punk?”

“I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“And you’ve never thought that, with all the sex you two have, a baby might just accidentally happen for the two of you?”

“It couldn’t. She’s on the pill and we always use protection.”

“Always?”

“Whatever the case is, she’s on the pill. And I’m not meant to be a father. Can we drop this now and go back to watching football?”

You handed your had covering your mouth, trying not to let them here your sobs. Quickly, yet as quietly as you could, you ran too your room. You ordered FRIDAY to lock everyone, including Bucky, out as you curled up onto the floor and cried. You had no idea of what to do.

~~~

“Hey, doll,” Bucky knocked on your door later that evening. “You in there? I haven’t seen you all day.” No response. “I thought that we could go out for dinner.” Again no response. “Y/N?” He tried the door. “You okay in there? Why can’t I get in?”

“Miss Y/N has ordered that no one be let into her room,” FRIDAY informed Bucky.

“Not even me?”

“Yes.” FRIDAY was silent for a moment. “She is not feeling well and wishes to be left alone.”

You were on your bed, still crying, and listening to the conversation Bucky and FRIDAY were having.

“She’s not feeling well? Why didn’t she tell me?” Bucky began knocking again. “Sweetheart, please, let me in. Let me take care of you.”

“She wishes to be left alone,” FRIDAY repeated.

Bucky sighed. “Just… let me know if you need anything.”

You sobbed as you heard Bucky’s footsteps fade away. You wanted him. That’s all that would be able to comfort you right now, him holding you. But you didn’t know how to tell him about the baby growing inside you. The baby he didn’t want.

~~~

The whole team was woken up in the middle of the night. An emergency mission, and everyone was needed. You knew that you were in no condition, mentally and physically, to go, but it was your job to. It was clear to everyone that you were avoiding Bucky, which didn’t settle well with anyone. You were all on the quinjet, listening to Steve and Tony debrief while you got ready.

“Here,” Bucky said quietly, coming over to you. You were struggling to put your parachute on. “Let me help you.”

“I’m good,” you responded, moving away. The hurt in Bucky’s eyes was impossible to miss. 

“Did I—“ Bucky swallowed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Now is really not the time to talk about this, Barnes. we’re headed in for a mission.”

“Y/N.” Bucky gently grabbed your wrist, turning you to face him. You looked up at the ceiling as tears tried to form in your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You ripped your hand out of his grip. “When were you planning on telling me you didn’t see yourself starting a family with me?” Now everyone’s attention was on you and Bucky.

“Doll, I don’t know what you’re—“

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. I heard you talking to Steve.”

“When did I— oh… Oh, that was— Doll, please, let me explain.”

“Over the drop zone,” FRIDAY announced.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” you growled. You were the first to the ram, jumping off to the fight below.

“What have I done?” Bucky looked at everyone else helplessly.

“Focus on the mission, Buck,” Steve said. “Deal with your personal life later.”

~~~

Each team member was grateful that everyone had come. It seemed that HYDRA had brought in their whole forces. Bucky had tried to stay close to you but was separated quickly in the fight. Everyone was basically on their own. 

You were fighting off flocks of HYDRA goons. Using all your senses to notice any new agent from any direction. It was exhausting, but you were making it look easy. Until, the need to throw up arrived. And you couldn’t hold it back.

“I need…” You panted over the comms, trying your best to hold the bile down. “I need… some help over here…”

“Y/N, are you alright?” Bucky’s panicked voice filled everyone’s ears.

“I… I can’t…” You fought off one more HYDRA agent before collapsing onto your hands and knees, emptying your stomach of all it’s contents.

“Are you throwing up, L/N?” Clint asked over the comms.

“I’m on my way, Y/N!” Bucky shouted. “Stay put!”

“Can’t,” you wiped off your mouth as you kicked an opposing agents legs out from underneath them. “I’m being attacked from all— AH!” 

Searing pain was felt in your stomach. Another one immediately following. One of your hands went to clutch your stomach as the other kept you stable on the ground.

“Y/N!” A chorus of voices sounded in your ear.

“I’m on my way, Y/N!” Bucky sounded terrified. More terrified than anyone had ever heard him before.

The HYDRA agents surrounding you were taken out in one turn of Tony’s lasers as he landed.

“I’ve got her, Barnes,” Tony stated, picking you up. “Meet us at the quinjet.”

“T-tony-y,” you groaned in pain.

“Hang on, Y/N.” He flew you to the quinjet. “You’re not leaving us just yet.”

“I’m… preg— preg… nant….”

“What?” He laid you down on the med-bay table, hoping he did not just hear what he had just heard. 

“I’m… p-pregnant…”

“Barnes, you have 30 seconds to get on this quinjet before I’m leaving your frozen ass.” Tony hurried to the cockpit.

“Why?” Steve asked. “What happened?”

“Y/N’s pregnant.”

“What?!” The chorus of voices exclaimed.

“And… and it’s not looking too good.” Tony turned just in time to see your body completely give out. “FRIDAY get us in the air!” He hurried back over to you, pressing his metal hand on your stomach. “We’re leaving now, Barnes!”

“I’m here! I’m here!” Bucky yelled, running up the ramp as the quinjet was lifting off the ground. “Oh my—“ He fell onto his knees beside your head. “Y/N.” He cried, resting his forehead against yours. “Please… I didn’t mean it… please fight. For me. For our child… I can’t live without you…”

~~~

You were rushed into surgery immediately. Leaving Tony and Bucky helplessly waiting in the other room. The team wasn’t far behind, finding more fight in them after hearing about your condition. They were all in the med-bay waiting room in the Tower, either unable to sit still or being about to sit too still.

Bucky wouldn’t let anyone near him. He stayed on the other side of the room, pacing as he mumbled to himself in Russian and pulled out his hair. Dr. Cho came through the doors 8 hours after you had been taken back. Bucky rushed up to her, but was unable to speak. He feared what the response might be.

“How is she?” Steve asked, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Y/N pulled through,” Dr. Cho answered. “She’ll need a good two months off missions, but she’ll survive.”

“An-and… the…” Bucky swallowed as he tried to get the words out. “The baby? Wh-what about the baby?”

Dr. Cho’s eyes gave it away before she could even speak. “The baby didn’t make it. I’m sorry, Sargent Barnes.”

Bucky stood there, clenching his fists before beginning to pace again. The team watched, not knowing how to comfort their friend. Bucky let out a heartbreaking scream as he punched through the wall. Letting the tears fall, he fell onto his knees. His sobs were the most heartbreaking thing any of them had ever heard.

~~~

There was something heavy on your legs. That was the first thing you noticed when you began to come to. The next things were the bandages around your abdomen and the IV in your arm. Slowly blinking to adjust to the lights, you opened your eyes. You looked down to your legs to see Bucky. His shoulders were trembling as he let out quiet sobs into your legs. That’s when you knew.

“I lost it… didn’t I?” Your raspy, quiet voice had Bucky head snapping up in your direction.

“Oh, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were red and puffy. You had never seen them that way before. He gently took hold of your hand, running his thumb across the back of it. “You had me so scared there.”

“The baby, Buck… Is it…” Tears filled your eyes as you trailed off, unable to finish your thought.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” You didn’t try to stop the loud, painful sob that ripped through you. “I’m so sorry for everything. For what I said. I honestly didn’t mean it. I was scared and I thought that Steve and I were just joking around. If I would have known…. I never should have said any of that to begin with…”

“I was coming to tell you the news, when I heard you two… it broke my heart…”

“I’ll never be able to apologize enough… this is all my fault.”

“No,” you shook your head, “it’s not… I knew what I was risking going out into the field… I was being stupid. I should have insisted on staying here.”

“Will you ever forgive me?”

“I… I honestly never hated you. Just heartbroken… I want you to be honest with me though… do you see a future with me?”

“That’s all I see… that’s what terrifies me. The thought that one day you’ll wake up and realize that I’m not good enough for you and leave… that’s why I haven’t brought anything up. I don’t want this to end.”

“James Buchanan Barnes, I love you. And I never plan on leaving your side. Ever. You here me? And if you ever have those awful thoughts again, you come straight to me, alright? I love you.”

“I love you too, doll. Oh gosh—“ He leaned up and kissed you, hard. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you, so much.”

“I love you… And I’m sorry.”

[yanderesponge]

how would the school react if yuhime was murdered in a world where akademi never had murders before? (sorry if that weird, I just like her and crave angst)

Ooh, this is a good one!

You didn't specify details, so I'm just gonna say the culprit got away with it.

I like to imagine she's decently well-liked at school, and she can be friends with pretty much everyone once she gets comfortable, so Akademi would really suffer from the loss

(Character-specific details under the cut)

* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯☽ .  ✧ . *

When Yuhime died, it seemed like everyone in school was affected. School clubs dedicated events to her, staff gave more lenience in their teaching, and Genka had to call in extra counselors for the grieving students. For months it was all anyone could talk about, and even Megami came to express her condolences.

She had a beautiful memorial. Portraits and sculptures of her were placed around the school, her favorite songs were played, and flowers of every color were grown and cut fresh for display.

* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯☽ .  ✧ . *

Yoshi was much more aggressive.

The fact that she wasn't there to protect Yuhime when they needed her was greatly upsetting, but the fact that the police weren't competent enough to solve a murder that happened on the grounds of such a prestigious school was beyond infuriating.

If she knew who was responsible for her sibling's death, she would abandon all sense of morals and self-preservation and go to extreme lengths to hurt that person physically and/or emotionally, even going as far as to commit serious crimes to avenge Yuhime.

✿

Hazu never stopped crying.

He threw himself into his hobby, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of loneliness that followed her death. He sewed endlessly, only stopping when his fingers began to break under the constant stress.

He sewed plushies, blankets, dolls, and any other sewing-based craft he could make based off of her interests, and even made cosplays she dreamed of having in her size. Hazu never truly felt proud of his work, but kept sewing because he knew Yuhime would have adored the growing collection.

✿

Midori was completely hysterical.

Yuhime was the only one who truly listened to her and saw the world like she did, and losing her meant losing her only true friend. Her constant questions would once again go unanswered and her theories about the game she lived in would never be discussed.

She withdrew from the others, no longer feeling motivation to speak to the empty, unknowing NPCs around her. It was a sickening feeling, realizing she was once again truly and completely alone in the world. She scanned through countless articles and sent out email after email, but nothing could ever bring her friend back.

✿

Yuhime would certainly have more friends than just these three, but I didn’t feel like writing like 100 entries for the effects of her death on each student in a single post XD

Still, feel free to ask if you want to know about specific characters’ relationships and interactions with my characters! I’d love to hear what you guys are interested in!

[writingtoforgetreality]

Forever & Always An Outsider (Cordell Walker x Daughter!Reader)

[Walker-Masterlist]

Summary: Your dad came back. Finally. But what would he do if he found out how you had been treated? That his family failed to accept your rightful place with them. Your life needed change before you were too far gone.

Words: 2,495

Warnings: language, angst, feels, suffering in silence, losing yourself, most of the Walkers are assholes (I love the actors & their characters, this is just fiction!), I’m incredibly proud of this one (pls tell me what y’all think - requests for Walker & more are open!), (Y/A) = your age, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were (Y/N) Walker. Through & through. Worthy of that last name. Emily not being your biological mother should not matter, right? It was her who raised you with Cordell. It was her who tucked you in at night. It was her who was there when you woke up in the middle of the night, screaming, because nightmares invaded your peaceful slumber. It was her who you called mom. So why the hell were you different? Why were you not treated the same way Stella & Augie were?

It was not your decision to be the child of one of Cordell’s one night stands. Neither was it your decision to be abandoned by the same woman who had carried you inside of her body for nine months. And it sure as hell was not your decision to be laid at the front porch of the Walker property. A note the only explanation who you were & why you were brought here in the middle of the night. A paternity test later & it was confirmed. You were Cordell’s daughter. Not even once did Emily think any less of you. The same thing for Cordell. Because you were their daughter. Fully. You were their child, as much as Stella & August were. You cried when you received the news of your mother’s passing. Just as much as the rest of the family. Cordell’s decision to leave was just as hard for you as it was for everyone else.

Daily calls had been left unanswered. Who could you possibly talk to if not your dad? Who would listen to your complaints, your pain, your grief, if not him? The years growing up had never been easy for you, there was no denying that. Yet, the second you were left alone with Cordell’s parents & your siblings, your life turned into living hell for you. It had never been kept secret that you were not Emily’s biological child. From early on, the both of them tried to explain your situation to you so you did not feel like they were keeping important information from you. Acceptance was what you needed. But it also was what you did not get. As a kid, of course you would never mention being treated differently. After all, it was your normal. It was something you got used to. Your parents seemed oblivious to the dirty glances that your grandparents threw your way. They did not notice that they spent more time with your siblings. Growing up in such a household, where support was only partly given, changed you as you got older. You were (Y/A) years old now. Old enough that the realization had kicked in. The reason why they treated you like an outsider was simple. Because you were one. An outsider.

You could not hide the disappointment you felt towards your dad when he returned. He left you. During a time where it felt like your head was underwater. Where you felt like you were drowning. And everybody watching you did not lift a finger to help you out of the dark & endless water surrounding your weak & broken body. No. They were busy dealing with everything on their own. Leaving you out entirely. Your dad was back. Finally. And as much as you hated him for leaving, your relief was bigger than the negativity that had been eating inside of you. Again, a person you connected to on a deeper level was with you. The only soul who accepted you. As you were. No friendships ever ended working out. The relationship with the rest of your family did not need any more discussing.

All those months of you keeping to yourself did not change a single thing. Your voice had only been used when someone had explicitly directed their words at you. Why bother talking to them? The only thing you had ever received was weird look after weird look. Hell, you had months alone to grieve. The hours you had spent crying in your room, all alone in the middle of the night, had not helped dealing with your loss. It was true, you were not the only one in this family who had lost someone. The difference was that you were the only one who had been left alone. Because the moment Cordell left, your support system went with him. The one thing you had never learned was being alone & staying alive.

An unnatural feeling was inside your home the day your dad arrived here. If you took a sharp knife, you could cut the tension precisely. But Cordell tried. His efforts did not go unnoticed by you. A small smile, a simple touch. Your way of acknowledging his attempts. The change in your family was noticeable. Connecting with his parents, with Stella & Augie, was not easy. Not at all. You, on the other hand, you were a changed person entirely. Not the funny, joyful girl you had once been. More like a closed book, encrypted with a lock. The key long gone, getting rusty at the bottom of a deep, lurid river.

Conversations over dinner were held briefly. Your dad being the only one to start them by things he remembered you guys liked. The burning need inside of you to talk to him was pushed down further. The looks you would receive were not really what you anticipated. But nobody knew. The silent battle you had been fighting for the last months had been ignored. Had your dad been here, he would have noticed something was off. Right away. A look in your (Y/E/C) eyes was all it took. But that was the past. This person had died a long time ago. Worrying was all that could be done for the time being. If you were to talk, you would come to him yourself. No need for him to force you into a situation you were highly uncomfortable in.

The bags under your eyes were present. The light in your eyes completely gone. Like the last ounce of strength had been sucked out of your body. Your clothes did not fit the way they used to. Loose hoodies, even looser pants. Your form slowly disappearing. Not only feeling like you were unseen, but actually becoming invisible. There was not a single moment of the day where you were fully awake. You had not been sleeping much. Something your dad could relate to. Most nights, he spent in company with a bottle of whiskey. The only friend to numb the pain for a little while. Alcohol was not your solution. Did not mean that yours was any healthier.

It had become a routine for you. Waiting until the house was sound asleep. Your mind the only one being awake. Your thoughts the only ones running miles & miles per hour. Eventually, you always found yourself seated outside, on top of the roof. Being a bit closer to the stars aligning the night sky. Being a bit closer to her. Others might find it silly. You talking into the night, waiting for some echo of the past. Waiting for a sign that she heard you. Your complaints. Your pain. Your grief. Your love. Spending hours crying. Begging for her to make it stop. Begging for them to love you the way she used to.

The cold breeze hit your exposed skin. A sign that your body still reacted to certain things. Texas nights were chilly. A nice contrary to the heat that dragged itself through most days. A hoodie would do. Some sweatpants. But you needed the goosebumps. Needed them to remind you that you were still here. Still breathing. You owed it to your mom. To keep fighting. Because she did not have the chance to anymore. Tears were threatening to escape your glossy eyes. You would not let them fall. Deep down, you knew she would want you to be strong. Not to cry over her. Because of her. But it was so hard. Each day, the weight got heavier. Each day, you lost yourself a bit more. There was only so much a single person could take. To you, it felt like the limit was almost reached. Soon, you would overflow. Who knew what would happen if you let it get that far?

“Your mom used to love that place.” a soft but deep voice interrupted the peaceful silence that encircled your body. Looking over your shoulder to find your dad standing only mere feet away from you.

“Really?” the pain could be heard through your small voice. Broad shoulders touched yours.

“She was up here when she needed time to think.” elbows propped up on his knees. You could brush him off. Pretending to be fine. Explaining that fresh air was all you needed. That you would head inside in a minute. Truthfully, you did not want to do any of this. The fight had been going on for too long. You were close to losing it. This was a sign that, maybe, you were not yet at the end. That, maybe, there was still enough time to get up & start anew. Talking alone felt like too much effort. It required too much strength. Strength that you did not have. Not anymore.

“Something happened to you while I was gone.” the statement left a tension between you. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.” his eyes took in your side profile. You did not dare to look at him. It meant risking to break into tears. The tears you had been holding in for so long.

“I don’t even know myself anymore.” as a father, hearing your child say such words, it broke his heart. Into a million pieces. The universe did not give him a break. First Emily. Now you. Yes, you were alive. But watching you disappear right in front of his eyes hurt just as much.

“Talk to me.” his words were not an order. If you wanted to, you could up & leave. Right this instant. Something told you to stay. He was here, after all. Your dad. And he cared enough to look out for you. More than the others had done these past few months.

“I always wondered if mom & you noticed.” your eyes were focused on a branch that wavered in the far distance. The leaves pushed from one side to the other, controlled by the wind. There was no interruption. If you needed to get something off your chest, then the most Cordell could do was listen. Making you feel as if you were not alone. As if he was not leaving you. Not again. Because he was not.

“Grandma & grandpa have never looked at me the way they look at Stella. At Augie. To them, I was never their grandchild. I was just there. I was never an equal. And I was fine with it, you know? Because I had mom. I had you. And that was all the support I needed. Then mom died. And you left. And suddenly, it felt like there was nobody I could talk to. Nobody who could hug me to make me feel at least a tiny bit better. They were this tight-knit group. And I was alone.” the steadiness, the monotony in your voice was scary. To you, it had been your normal for the longest time. Cordell knew that it was partly his fault. Leaving you during one of the hardest times in your life was plainly wrong. No apology could ever bring back the time you had lost.

“I’m sorry.” it was not much. Definitely not enough. Definitely not what you deserved. Yet, it was all that could be given to you in this moment. A strong, muscular arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his warm body. The heat of his form immediately transferring to your skin. His embrace was a safe haven. His cologne so familiar. You had missed him. So much. Only when he touched you were you overwhelmed by every single emotion you had ignored for the last couple of months. Silent tears made their way down your cheeks, leaving a salty taste at the corners of your mouth.

“It’s fine.” one thing had not changed. Always making sure that others would not worry about you. People knew you for your fierce & strong personality. It was not too late to get the old you back. With much work, much love & support, you could change for the better again.

“It’s not.” Cordell knew you were one to carry everything on your own. That trait was given to you from him. He recalled how Emily had mentioned it when you were a small child. The one thing you always did was putting others first, forgetting about yourself in the process. That was something the both of you had to work on. Something the both of you needed to improve. The start would make him talking to the rest of the family. Now that he knew about your daily struggles, he made it his job to do everything to change it. For your sake. Because that was what Emily would have wanted. It was what he wanted for you. All of your years, you had been nothing but kind & loving towards his parents, Stella & August. The kindness you shared with them was not necessary. You had been treated wrongly for years & Cordell blamed himself for being too blind to see clearly.

Again, silence enveloped you & neither of you talked. It was comforting. Him being back. Him wanting to help. He hugged you close to him. Squeezing your shoulders every now & then. A simple sign of letting you know that he was still here. With you.

“I’ll talk to them.” if it were not for the night to be so calm, you would have missed his words entirely. “I’ll make this right.” this was a silent promise. A promise that he would stay. A promise that you no longer had to keep your grief locked inside. A promise that your family would be just that. A family. A family who treated each other equally. Loved each other endlessly. Supported each other whenever it was possible. Maybe it was the scene you found yourself in. The almost black night sky, illuminated by the moon, by thousands of little stars. Showing you that there were a million small reasons for a light in a mass of darkness. Bits & pieces of hope. Maybe this was your sign. The sign you had waited for every night. The sign from your mom. Telling you that it was worth fighting for. Worth fighting for the little things. Because each of those were beautiful in their own way. Each of those deserved appreciation. Each of those could brighten up the dark life you found yourself in. And light was all you needed right now.

Published (03/26/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @fofisstilinski, @geekgirl007, @spnwoman, @acklessnackles, @the-soul-witch, @multifandomlover121, @missmaam123, @delicatecelebritiesarthairdo (thanks for your support <3/sorry if I mistakenly tagged you, please let me know if I did)

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Let the Stars Witness

Okay okay holy— omg I did it! My first request and from an admired writer of mine no less!

From @kim-monsterlings : Hi and welcome!! Really looking forward to seeing your work! ~ If you would, could I request some form of friends to lovers with an orc? (Prompts maybe like, "you deserve better.") Thank you! <3

Since it wasn't specified on what their genders are, I hope your okay with what I went with! And I kinda trailed off from the prompt (or rather it's different but similar)

Anyways you'll know when you read!

•

Pairing: Male Orc (Duruk) x Human Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: None.

•

"You know, I never thought I would be friends with anyone here, especially with someone other than my, well, species," you tell your companion, your eyes not leaving the cloudless night sky as you lied on your back on the roof of his house. The stars were out tonight.

If you told your younger self that you'd be having great escapades (if running away and getting into a series of trouble fall under that) with an orc, you would most definitely cry your eyes out because you thought were being teased, taking it as a hurtful comment. You were sensitive like that. Part of the reason why no one would even go near you, afraid they might hurt you with a pat on the shoulder or with one word alone. You became the prime target of bullies, finding twisted amusement at your pathetic reactions. A crybaby, they called you. But it wasn't your fault you didn't have much control over your emotions. You were weird, asocial, timid, maybe even depressed. Having a neglectful family didn't help either, it just worsened.

•

The morning you met Duruk was after the orientation. And it was not so good for a first impression.

Long story short, you cried.

But since you're perhaps curious as to what happened exactly, let's elaborate.

You had your headphones on, the melodic sound of gentle rain played in a 3-hour loop and blocked out other noises, your eyes glued to the path you were on. You took long and hurried steps, wishing you could teleport to your classroom and hide in the back, disappear or become invisible.

You were distracted, or should we say, focused on the ground and expecting everyone to step aside and let you through.

Well, except for the one who had his back on you.

You crashed—not an exaggeration— into something- someone massive. You stumbled back and landed on your bum, wincing from the impact. Luckily, your headphones were safe (ah yes, priorities), detaching from your ears and landing on your shoulders. When you looked up to see who it was, you thought your eyes were gonna fall off, grow little legs, and scamper away.

Before you stood an orc, halfway turned to glance at whoever it was that tried to push him, his sharp tusks jutting out from his maw. His brows were furrowed as he looked down on you. Sure, he wasn't as tall as the orcs you've seen around the city and campus but still was over 6 feet, with muscles thicker than your thighs, easily hulking you.

You tried to get out an apology and run as far as you could go, but you just sat there, frozen as you strained your neck to meet his gaze, you couldn't look away. Your heart was trying to claw its way out into the surface.

Then you felt the tears swell up.

They cascaded down your face before you even could stop them.

The orc's eyes widened at your reaction and crouched down to your level in an instant that he almost fell over. His hands hovered, not sure what to do.

"Hey, hey, please don't cry. Please don't—"

"I-I-I'm re..really s-sorry p-please don't hurt m-me..." You managed to choke out pathetically, hiccuping in every word.

"Shhh now hey, it's okay. It was an accident— what? No! Why would I do that?" he replied. The orc peeked over his shoulder and to the sides. "Let's get you to somewhere, uh, less crowded," he added. You turned your head and saw that you had an audience, whispers went around as they sent pitiful and disgusted glances in your direction, only making you cry even more.

He proceeded to unceremoniously lift you into his arms, bridal style, and dashed away. You gripped the front of his shirt and shut your eyes. You were trembling now, scared of what he might do to you. How could you even fight back with your small stature?

It wasn't long until you felt him slow down and placed you carefully on a bench. The orc knelt in front of you, brows scrunched up as he studied your face.

"You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You didn't reply, only staring at him through your glassy eyes as you heaved.

You flinched when his hand started rubbing your back, his other hand placed on the side of the bench to balance himself.

He continued to caress your back and murmured soothing words in hopes of calming you down.

Your tears didn't stop falling until moments later when you came down from your initial fear, the warmth of his palm leaving your back once you did. All the while the orc remained where he was, at a loss of what to do next.

You rubbed your sticky face with the collar of your pale and blotchy crimson sweater, sniffing and taking slow, deep breaths before you spoke.

"I... I'm sorry for causing you trouble. E-Even going as far as to take me somewhere quiet. I...appreciate that." You thought you'd pass out with the way people gathered around you, it was suffocating. "Thank you..."

"I panicked," he started, "Sorry—I mean, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I get that a lot of people run away from the sight of me, but you didn't, and just froze there on the ground so..." he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

You shook your head. He was such an imposing figure to many, their first thought was most likely to get away or scream at him.

"You looked angry... When I bumped into you." You slammed into him actually, but he didn't budge an inch. Guess it was one-sided.

"Oh, that? Well, my brother scolds me a lot for having such a grumpy face, scaring humans away. Like he was the one to talk when he's taller and bigger than me! People would faint on the spot when they see him, I bet!"

The image your mind conjured up tore a laugh out of your body, two orcs arguing about how not to terrify people at sight was damn hilarious. When was the last time someone made you laugh like this?

The orc grinned, your reaction a contrast to that of earlier.

You opened your mouth to say something but the ringing of the great bell resounded, cutting you off. The two of you stood up as you realized you were late for your first class of the school year.

"So, uh, what now?" you asked.

"How about we go to our class, then maybe meet up later? Oh, fu— my mother will gut me— I haven't introduced myself!" He blurted out, his voice making you yelp with the sudden outburst.

Clearing his throat, he reached out, "I'm Duruk."

In turn, you gave him your name, taking his hand and smiled. "Hello, Duruk."

•

True to his word, you met again later when lunch came. The cafeteria was packed so you settled on getting the convenience food they offered and eat somewhere quiet.

Your conversation that day spiraled when you found out the two of you had a lot in common. From your favorite rock band to your favorite flavor of ice cream.

You both strongly agreed that vanilla ice cream was superior.

You agreed to meet up during breaks, always having something to chat about.

Eventually, you became inseparable.

He even changed and transferred to your class just so the two of you could be together at the start of the day rather than walk half of the campus to see each other every time.

You became best friends, sharing each moment in school, may it be helping the other stay awake in a boring class, or copying homework when one of you forgot to do it. Soon enough, Duruk started inviting you to his house to hang out. He did mention he had four other siblings, but he lived alone. You came by almost every night and on whole weekends to escape from home, only a few miles in between. No one would notice you gone anyways, but you returned around midnight, not wanting to impose on Duruk no matter what he says, so he walks you back instead.

You basked in each other's company. The odd and scrutinizing glares didn't go unnoticed when you two were together, but you shrugged them all off.

It didn't take long before you started having feelings for the orc, a little wishful thinking that you could be more than friends. You noted lately that his touches would linger seconds longer than usual, hugs and even a hand on your shoulder and back seem to be warmer and —you dare say— affectionate. It weighed heavily on your heart, your simple crush turned into something else, and it only grew with each passing day, and every laugh you shared.

But of course, you swatted those away, buried them deep inside every damn time they climb back up. Who could even love you? Yes, you have Duruk, he likes you, you think. But that's the end of it. Just close buddies. You can't take the risk of ruining your friendship with him and make things awkward with the only one you had! What if he stops talking to you, weirded out by your confession? You don't want to go back to being alone again, your heart can't take the rejection that came with it.

So you endured.

•

A little over five months ever since the embarrassing accident, here you are now, stargazing with your best friend.

"Well, good thing you didn't watch where you were going that time then," he says, chuckling beside you. His hands cushioned his head against the hard surface. "I wouldn't have..." he trails off.

"Hm, what?" you ask. Duruk went silent and didn't answer you for a time. You were about to let it slide but then he breathes in audibly.

"I wouldn't have met an angel if you did. Should've caught you in my arms, but sadly I didn't move fast enough." He replies, his voice deep and mellow.

You straighten up and turn to face him, your brows shot up, incredulous to what he just implied.

"W-Wait. What?" you squeak, your heart thumping hard in your chest, your skin warming up even in the chilled night air.

Is he—

"You're so cute, y'know that? Fuck it, it's all or nothing," he whispers under his breath as he sits up to face you. His expression was unreadable, but you see in his mahogany eyes a familiar glint of determination. "I'm not good with long-ass speeches so I'll make this short," he breathes in before he continues, "I feel something for you, for a while now, more than a best friend does, like...in a romantic sense. I want to cherish you and hold you in my arms every time I see you, I- ah fuck- damn it I just—" he growls, "I love you, so much and if you don't love me back then please re—"

You shut him off with your lips against his, Duruk's tusks pressing against your cheeks as you held his face in your hands. He was stunned for two solid seconds before returning the kiss, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you close and into his lap.

You feel something wet roll down your hand and you immediately jerked back to see his face. The orc was crying.

Did you do it wrong? Were you so terrible at it—

"I don't deserve you... A monster like me doesn't deserve an angel like you."

Where was this coming from??

"Say that again, I dare you."

"I don't de—"

This idiot!

You pecked his lips to cut him off.

"You big dummy," you begin, "I love you too, idiot. You may be a monster but not what everyone else defines you as. I love you as you are. You're my best friend, and dare I say my l-lover now. Is that right...?"

Duruk gives you a small, gentle smile, "If you'll have me, then yes, for as long as you want me to be." He says, sniffling a sob as a couple more tears tumbled down his rugged face.

You never thought you'd see him like this. He was the one who kept making you laugh with his stories and terrible jokes. Before you, in your hands was someone vulnerable, his eyes soft and fond as he gazed into yours.

It made your heart pound and it hurt.

You leaned in and he met you halfway, kissing once again, deeper and more intimate this time. Real. You brought your arms around his neck, your tears spilling out and he tightened his grip around you. It felt like a dream, too good to be true, but the way he hugged you like you were the only thing that anchored him in this world made you believe it wasn't. All of this was real and you couldn't be anymore happier.

From above, the glittering stars, the light gentle as they shone, bear witness to two freed hearts, bottled up feelings gushing out like a broken dam as you embraced one another and lost yourselves in the moment of bliss, cheeks stained and clothes lightly damp from the tiny rivulets of liquid that dropped down.

It's a lovely night, isn't it?

[messedupfan]

Infinity & Beyond (Wanda Maximoff x Reader) Chapter 4

Summary: This chapter focuses on the journey of the reader during the five years without Wanda.

A/N: Thank you for the likes and reblogs! Hope that you are all enjoying the story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up a few months later in the Avengers compound once again. This time with your memories intact and feeling unbelievably disappointed. “She found him,” you find yourself saying to whoever was in the room as you involuntarily sit up on the bed. The nurse brushes it off as some weird superhero thing and not something to address. But then you repeat yourself again and again until she alerts Bruce who grabs the attention of the other remaining Avengers.

"What do you think she means?" Natasha questions as you make the statement again.

"Maybe she's talking about Wanda and Vision?" Steve chimes in with a concerned look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why would she be talking about Wanda and Vision? Vision was an advanced robot with a stone in his head, he had no soul for Wanda to find. If any of that exists," Bruce points out.

"I don't know then," Steve shrugs. Then you repeat the phrase again. "Maybe it's Wanda and her brother? I don't know, maybe we're too focused on the cloudy eyes thing. We could be thinking about this too hard."

Then Rhodey comes into the room to inform the members that the radar has picked up a signal of an unidentified flying object. He thinks that Carol might be back. "Just say UFO," Natasha rolls her eyes as she follows the guys out of the building. On their way out she spots a worried Pepper Pots and quirks her lips into a reassuring smile. "I think she found him," she says to the woman and leads her to the landing zone of the compound. It's only then that Natasha realizes what you meant. Sure enough, a woman is carrying a ship into the landing zone with Tony Stark and someone named Nebula. Pepper wraps her arms around Tony in tears and relief. He is quickly brought to the medical wing where you remain. Somehow having watched the whole thing from your bed.

When you come out of it the nurse informs you that your eyes had gone cloudy for a moment and you had predicted the return of your father. "He isn't my father," you grouched. Huh, must be another ability, you think to yourself.

Later, after passing a few diagnostic exams with flying colors, you are discharged from your hospital room and are eating across from a very serious Thor as people argue and yell at each other. It was weird to eat actual food. Thor was almost amused watching you figure out how to hold your sandwich.

Tony is then rolled into the room with a furious energy. You can tell that he is really hurting from this loss, that he is frustrated and you can even feel betrayal radiating off of him somehow. Of course, it's not until he's shouting at the Captain that you realize you are feeling his emotions. You were feeling everyone's defeated emotions and it was beginning to suffocate you. As you try to distract yourself with the food, your mind wanders to how overwhelmed Wanda must've felt being able to read people's minds. That leads to the memory of Wanda slipping from you and it's almost too much to handle. You toss the plate in front of you, disrupting the ongoing argument. You’re squeezing your skull as the tears come and you scream for it all to stop. Natasha and Steve fall to your side as they do their best to calm you down. Once the memory leaves you and you've settled, everyone in the room gets serious about finding Thanos.

Nebula is useful as she provides the only lead to finding Thanos and you join them on the spaceship, brushing off everyone's concerns. The talking racoon asks how many of you haven’t been to space before, you raise your hand among the others which seems to be enough to make him laugh. You don't understand why until the ship rushes off to space.

Arriving just outside the planet, a floating woman you hadn't been introduced to yet appears at the front window and is surprised to report that the planet is just Thanos. Along with everyone else, you are heart broken to find out that he had destroyed the stones. You feel for Thor when he says he went for the head and shed another tear for the woman that Thanos had taken from you. It feels like you just lost her all over again.

The first year is the longest. The days feel never ending and drag on. Most nights were spent jolting out of bed in a cold sweat as you're being haunted by memories. It often felt like you were back in the hands of Hydra being electrocuted and injected, spoken to in a language you didn't know, probably German. Everything that was done to you in the time you were captured, everything that your mind had originally suppressed, was attacking you each night. Going through it alone made you miss Wanda even more. So once you could remind yourself that you were safe, you had also been reminded that you were alone. Lots of tears were shed in the night.

After Tony built up enough strength to leave the compound he did but he never stayed gone long. He would return often to attempt to build a relationship with you. It wasn’t easy trying to let him in, the lack of sleep being no help, so you didn’t. Your resistance never stopped him from making the effort to get to know you. Now that he knew you existed, he wanted to be part of your life. Tony knew that you needed family and he was all you had left, even if you didn't want to accept it. He promised to never abandon you ever again.

That didn’t mean he stopped living his life. Within a few months of his recovery, Tony invited you to his surprisingly low-key wedding which you begrudgingly attended with Natasha and Steve. They had been helping you out a lot with coping and figuring out whether or not you wanted Tony in your life. Steve often joked about fighting him again to get him to back off, but you never took the offer. You did your best to enjoy yourself at the wedding but it only reminded you of what you couldn’t have.

You smiled your way through the night as you thought about Wanda.

Her smile, the dress she would’ve worn, her laugh, that look in her eyes that is so full of love and only reserved for you. Your mind went even further back to a time when Pietro was alive and how they would’ve danced together and how happy he would have been for the two of you. You even imagine the wide grin he would have walking Wanda down the aisle and the single tear he would shed. Once he found that ring of yours he was constantly harassing you about when and how you were going to ask his twin. Even giving unwanted advice and ideas. It was all so consuming. That night you fell asleep crying in Natasha’s arms.

Months later, while Tony was visiting you he included you in on a secret. Pepper was pregnant. You didn’t exactly give the most joyous reaction but you were happy for him and Pepper. “When she’s born, promise me you won’t come back here,” you find yourself saying.

“Well I don’t know if she’s a girl yet but… why don’t you want me to come around here?” Tony asks as he returns the ultrasound image to his pocket.

“I want the three of you to be happy. I don’t want you to worry about me. Besides, I’m thinking of asking Nat to start assigning me to missions. I probably won’t be around as much and I really just need to get my mind off of the things I lost and the things I can’t have.” You keep your eyes on the promise ring Wanda had given you on your first anniversary. “But I want you and Pepper to be happy. Enjoy your life Tony. You don’t need to make things right with me to do that.” Tony disagrees but hugs you as he says his goodbyes and you find Natasha for your first assignment.

You are there for the birth of Morgan Stark. You forge her a special necklace from your powers and smile at the little bundle of joy. “Congrats you guys, she is so precious,” you say as you hold the baby.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Pepper says with hooded eyes and a tired smile. You hand the baby back to Tony and leave before thoughts of Wanda could invade and cloud your head. She always wanted a family. She used to fantasize about the kinds of parents the two of you would be. The types of kids you guys would raise. Baby names… Being away allowed you to forget her. But moments like these threatened to tear you down.

More years pass and Natasha is forced to ground you from missions because you have become too mentally unstable and a major liability. Steve drags you to his group therapy sessions but you hardly pay attention or contribute. You just miss Wanda and you allow yourself to feel that pain because running from it has only made it grow. For the most part you spent your time sitting in meetings with Steve or Nat. You preferred being in Natasha’s meetings since they were about mission updates and strategy and not about people crying over first dates. Shortly after that particular meeting Steve began to hint that maybe you should give it a try, you shut him down and turned it around on him. He quickly dropped the subject.

Among that daily schedule you would end your nights curled up on your bed in the room Wanda stayed in while she was waiting for you to come back to her. You would hold some clothes that still smelled like her to your nose as you listened to sad songs. For a while you’re stuck listening to Little Talks wondering if her spirit was lying by your side trying to reach out to you. Some of the things you felt were too painful to keep around and you had them stored at a special place far enough from here. One of them being the old computer. Well, they had been stored away for you but sometimes you convinced yourself that you made the call on your own. Not that Natasha arranged a team to steal most of your belongings.

Tony was generous enough to copy every video and photo file from the computer and put them into your phone. They helped you go to sleep at night.

Then one day, a man you swore had to have been on the vanished list that Nat viewed often, appears at the gate. “Is this old?” Steve asks.

“This is live,” Natasha says. They let him in and the three of you stand around as he explains how he can help. You, Nat, and Steve are skeptical but not so much that you guys don’t have hope it won’t work. Immediately you guys are on the road to find Tony Stark.

Over the years you tried to visit between missions, when you could. Not for Tony but for Morgan. You couldn’t help but fall for the little girl, she was your sister and you wanted to be the best big sister you could be for her. You also wanted to make sure she knew how many people cared for her and that she would always be safe and protected. Natasha was also captivated by her and would sometimes join you on the visits. You girls would play once she was able to run around and you even showed her some of your powers. During this time you finally allowed Tony in and even established a healthy relationship with him and Pepper because whether or not you wanted to accept it, they were your family.

When you arrive at the cabin, Morgan jumps out of Tony’s arms and runs into yours. “Y/N/N!” She shouts happily. You greet her with just as much energy and take her into the house to let them do the talking.

Pepper prepares some drinks and has you take them out to everyone. You re-enter the kitchen to help her with lunch. “Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them?” Pepper asks conversationally.

“Because my powers are connected to my emotions and if your husband says no… I might accidentally blow him into bits and pieces,” you sigh.

Despite herself, Pepper laughs a little. “You know,” she starts. “If you called him dad, he won’t have any other choice than to say yes.”

You shake your head, not this again. “Not going to happen.” Tony hasn’t directly asked you to say it but Pepper has and she keeps bringing up how much it would mean to him to hear you say it. “Besides with what we’re trying to do there’s a chance that he might lose all of this. I’m not even sure if I want him to say yes.” Your gaze lands on Morgan playing with her toys. Pepper follows your gaze and smiles softly.

“Hey Morgan, sweetie?” Pepper calls attention to her daughter who curiously looks up at her mother. “You should go out there and rescue daddy,” Pepper says. The little girl's face lights up as she stands to run to the front door. “Knowing Tony, he will find a way to protect everything he loves and save the world. Even if it kills him,” there is something in the way she says those words that causes the two of you to share a look. A hopeful let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.

She then gives you a hug and tells you to stop by more often, she wishes you luck, and you leave the warmth of the home to the frowns of your rejected friends. You don’t look at Tony when you bid him goodbye.

Next you find yourself in Bruce’s diner and watch as Scott Lang fails to be recognized as Ant-Man by some kids. Bruce is willing to give the time travel a try and on the day the test run is done, you begin to lose hope again. You eat your taco near a window as you observe Scott set up in the landing zone. You laugh when Nebula and Rocket arrive blowing away his food. You almost can’t believe that is the guy who had access to the closest thing they had to a time machine. Steve walks in smiling at your laugh, you don’t do that often, with Tony barking orders behind him. People get to work on the machine and that pesky flicker of hope is restored.

As you work on things Tony is by your side teaching you about every part you are using and putting together. You just let him rattle on and on as you let yourself fantasize about holding Wanda in your arms again. Before you know it they are doing the first test run with Clint Barton. He disappears and instantly reappears with a baseball glove and a stunned expression. “It works,” he says and that feeling of hope causes your heart to pound in your chest. You are going to see her again. Now to find out when to travel to.

“See you in a minute,” Nat says with contained excitement. She is just as excited to complete this mission as you are. After a lot of thinking and planning they separated into three teams of people. Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Scott leave to 2012 to retrieve the tesseract, scepter, and the time stone. Nat, Clint, Nebula, and Rhodey vanish to 2014 to grab the power stone and the soul stone. The last team is just Thor and Rocket to grab the reality stone that is apparently inside of Thor’s former girlfriend. Tony, Steve, and Nat wouldn’t let you go on the mission because they still think you’re a liability. You argue that Thor isn’t exactly the picture of mental stability but they point out that Thor is the only one on their team that knows Asgard and where that stone is.

So you sit and pout in a chair for the quick minute that everyone is gone. Part of what has you so pissed off is that you didn’t get to experience time traveling. All because of a few bad missions. You watch them disappear and stare at the platform but time seems to drag on and you look down at your phone with a sigh. In that second everyone has returned with their stones and your heart drops. You notice one person missing and frown. “Where’s Nat?” You ask. Clint wears a broken expression and takes a breath before explaining how he received the stone. “Oh,” is all you can come up with.

Clint felt that it should’ve been him and you didn’t disagree but you understood why Natasha sacrificed herself. She confided in you a few times about how she felt like a monster because of what she was forced to do when she was being raised in the Red Room. She even talked about the mandatory hysterectomy and hated that she could never carry kids of her own. You did your best to try and cheer her up by telling her that adoption was always an option. “No agency is going to allow a former assassin to adopt a kid. Trust me… I tried.” She then boasted about Clint and his family, she loved them as if they were her own family. “I’ll deny it if you tell anyone but I cried like a baby the first time his daughter called me aunty Nat,” she got teary eyed and you passed her another shot of vodka.

Natasha missed them so much and you knew she would sacrifice herself to get them back. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if his family came back and she had to inform them that he died to save her. She probably would have felt like a bigger monster than she already thought she was. You stood up and left the room to collect yourself and get as far away from everyone’s grief as possible. Natasha had easily become your best friend these past few years. In the past year that you’ve been stuck at the compound there were days when it felt like all you had was each other. You can’t believe she’s gone but you have to hope that there is still a way to bring her back.

Banner finds you later and makes you some food and Rocket sits with you and the rest of the guys sit by the dock to talk. You force the comfort food down despite feeling too sad to eat and notice Nebula walking back into the time machine area. They call you into another room where they’re going to put the stones together but you ignore them and follow Nebula. They let you go, assuming that you’re still upset about losing Natasha. The first time you went on an actual mission with Nebula, you were put off with how serious she was so you came up with random nicknames to call her. She was annoyed initially but eventually she mentioned how funny she thought it was. Her tone had remained emotionless as she told you that and you had to refrain from laughing because it felt rude to do so as she was opening up. Nebula was still a very serious person to be around but she loosened up a bit around you, even called you her friend.

“Hey Neb-Neb!” You called out after her but she ignored you. “Bu-Bu! Hello?” You followed her to the control panel, “Nella, what’s going on with yo–” she cuts you off by wrapping her hand around your throat and speaking to you through gritted teeth. There was definitely something off about Nebula but you couldn’t quite figure it out. So you fought back because you weren’t fighting your friend, you were fighting a stranger. The two of you go hand in hand until she slips out of your hold and goes back to the control panel. You move to stop her but are too late. Next thing you know, you are waking up in rubble.

With a groan you sit up and dust yourself off then quickly panic, you don’t even know if they had time to do the reverse snap. You crawl your way out of the rubble and find Steve, Tony, and Thor speaking in hushed tones. “Did you guys do the snap? What happened?” You ask frantically, you need to know that you’ll be seeing Wanda again. Losing her a third time was simply not an option. Then you see a very alive Thanos just sitting there. That’s when it connects in your head. It was a different Nebula and she was getting a past version of Thanos into this present. “Please tell me you guys did the snap,” you look at Tony and he nods. But the look on everyone's faces told you that they didn’t know if it worked.

You join them as they attack Thanos but he is powerful and not easy to bring down. You’re tossed into another pile of rubble and shake your head, annoyed with yourself because you felt useless. Your powers were failing you and you couldn’t fathom as to why. Out of nowhere you see portals open up one by one, the people that had vanished and the people that hadn’t stepped through each portal. Then an enormous Ant-Man emerges from the ground and drops off a few more people that must’ve been trapped from the destruction of the compound. You gather with the rest of them and really focus to activate your powers as Steve grabs Mjolnir and shouts, “Avengers… Assemble!” Despite the unsuccessful attempt, you still charge along with the rest of them to fight against Thanos’ army.

Without seeing her, you could just sense that Wanda is among the rest and as much as you want a reunion, saving the world takes precedence at the moment. You could practically hear her telling you to go be a hero anyway. As you fight against Thanos’ army, using the hand to hand combat skills Natasha and Steve taught you, a part of you is still distracted and searches for Wanda. Regardless of where you want your focus at the moment. You make your way around the battlefield hoping to knock into her or something so that you don't get yourself killed trying to find her. Then you hear her.

“You took everything from me,” her tone is heavy and her eyes are glowing. You come to the conclusion that she must not know whether or not you are alive. So you don’t let her know and wait to find out what she does.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Thanos responds, angered by the woman's threatening glare.

“You will,” she says before she starts attacking him with her powers. Discreetly killing off a large gathering of Outriders hurtling towards you, you watch Wanda as she comes very close to killing Thanos herself. He calls for the ships to rain fire on everyone and that’s when you finally make yourself present to her. You jump from your spot and land right beside her and create a force field to protect the both of you. Other members are being protected by the sorcerers and it isn’t until Captain Marvel comes flying through that the bullets stop coming down and people are trying to get the gauntlet out of there. You turn towards Wanda and feel her mixed emotions, you wink at her with a smile as you let the barrier go.

“It’s time to be a hero right now, love. We can say hello later,” you tell her before you go back into the fight, the adrenaline rushing through you as your powers have finally activated. Each member does their best to keep the gauntlet out of Thanos’ reach but sadly no one succeeds and he holds the extreme amount of power once again. Carol fights him with as much power as she has to keep him from snapping his fingers but eventually gets tossed aside. You step up next using everything that you have inside of you, using abilities you had no idea you even possessed. But in the end you are tossed onto a metal rod that had been protruding out from the destroyed building. It had stabbed you through your side making it difficult to breathe. As you fight for air you look around to watch Thanos and his army disappear. Tony collapses beside you. “No,” you cough out weakly. You reach out for him and luckily he was close enough for you to touch his shoulder. “Tony,” you gasp as the tears sting your eyes. His eyes follow the sound but you can tell that he’s not actually looking at you.

“Mr. Stark, we won. Mr. Stark,” Peter says as he tries to grab Tony’s attention. Rhodey lands beside his best friend with understanding and sadness in his eyes. Yours tighten shut for a moment as your tears start to fall. You want to wake up from this horrible nightmare but this is reality, a piece of you knew that you couldn’t avoid. Then Pepper arrives and pulls the boy in the spider suit away from her husband. You look up and see that he has finally returned somewhat enough to recognize his wife.

She tells him that he can rest now, then she looks over to you so that you know that now is the time to say something so you don’t regret it later. With a weak grip on his shoulder you nudge him to return his attention to you. It looks like he’s trying to smile at you but is obviously far too weak to do as such. You offer him the best one that you could muster in your current state. “I love you, dad. It’s okay, we’ll be okay,” your hand lands in his and he gives it the lightest squeeze before it falls limp.

Wanda makes her way over to you and panics at the amount of blood you’ve lost but at the moment you don’t feel anything. Not even the pain of losing your father. You just feel… numb. It dawns on you that your body must be failing but that doesn’t scare you. She takes your hand as your loud thoughts of just letting go enter her mind. “No,” she starts through frustrated teeth. “You can’t leave, Y/N. Please, keep fighting. This can’t be our ending. I need you, please don’t leave me,” she sounds so broken but equally determined to keep you alive. As you hold her gaze she lets out a broken sob and tenderly whispers, “I love you to infinity.” She continues to beg, depositing small kisses to the back of your hand. As her words sink in, you find the strength that you need to fight off the thoughts of letting go. Then, with your heightened vision, you look around and find every remaining Avenger kneeling out of respect for your father and you have the urge to join them. You struggle to get up from your position, Pepper and Wanda try to stop you from moving but all rational thought has left you.

“I’m not dying right here,” you grumble as you reach behind you and cut the rod. You shift your position and Pepper sprays your wound to close it around the remaining bits of the rod that was still in you so that the bleeding would stop until you could get it properly treated. Then you kneel for your father to show your respect for him in his death that you failed to show while he was alive. You think about how grateful you were for the last five years and how much you appreciated that he never gave up on you. You silently thank him just as the adrenaline leaves your body and it succumbs to the full extent of your injuries causing you to collapse and pass out.

Chapter 5

[yan-twst]

Hi there! You think you can write the reactions of the dorm leaders finding out that the only way their s/o can go back to their world is to die? And at this point of time their s/o is already dead. Please don't write for this ask if you feel uncomfortable. Thank you!

warnings: death mentions, just sad shit lol

riddle rosehearts

he crumbles. his air of authority, his usual strictness, his taste for sweets; it crumbles. he’s reduced to a crying mess for days

he tries to find some relief in knowing, technically, his lover is fine, back at home. that they’re alive, just somewhere so far away from him, somewhere where he can’t see them. they’re not dead- but...

he can’t shake the image of them in a casket. of them dying. crowley assures him that they returned home, that “dying” here for them was just the way to return, but it does very little to soothe him

how is he supposed to be calm? to take it all in stride?

they are alive, somewhere else. but they’re so far away, they’re somewhere he can’t even look at. he tells himself it’s better this way, they’re out there living; but it’s hard. they feel like they’re gone, and it’s because they are, just not in the way he was originally grieving for

to riddle, finding a partner was just another escape. an escape like NRC is, like the unbirthday parties are, like his dorm leader activities are, escapes from the fact he must return home once vacations come and he must bend to his mother’s will once again- and his lover being ripped away from him has him in shambles

riddle has never been one to make wishes upon stars or to believe in those silly wishing charms children play with, but he begins to silently wish to see his lover just once more. he feels selfish, he feels horrible- they’re back home and he wants to once again rip them out of their world and bring them into his, but he can’t help it

he consoles himself by thinking of them. how are they doing? did their friends back home miss them? maybe the people back in their world thought they were dead and suddenly they returned- much like how he thought they’d passed away until he was told they were alive back at home

that’s what he holds onto. they’re alive, out there- they aren’t entirely gone, even if he held their cold corpse in his hands, somewhere out there in another world entirely their heart still beats

leona kingscholar

is this a fucking joke? is this truly how things are? is he supposed to celebrate? yay, his lover isn’t actually dead, they’ve just been tossed back into their world of origin by the virtue of dying in leona’s world?

how is that any consolation? they’re gone, one way or another

it’s not like being told “hey! you might have thought your lover died but they actually were taken away by the same weird unexplained magic that brought them here, but they just had to die to return and somehow nobody knew this, and this information is only getting to you after a couple days of grieving their death” is suddenly going to fix anything

he’s bitter. can’t he have anything? not the throne, not the people’s respect, not love?

they might be home- but they’re about as good as dead, aren’t they? it’s not like this was a planned return, not as if they’d known it would happen. not like he had time to prepare, time to say goodbye, to even try to prepare for their departure, leave alone having to believe they were dead

it wasn’t a departure. it was them being ripped away from him. and now they’re gone forever, and not even the fucking headmaster who’s supposed to be this wise and powerful figure can even figure out how they got here or how they left upon their death

it takes time for the wound to heal. while knowing they’re technically back home doesn’t soothe him much, it does calm his soul somewhat; they aren’t a cold corpse, his last memory of bidding farewell to their cold corpse isn’t their last moment, they’re back where they belong

he doesn’t seem to hold any hope to see them again. but he can make an effort to try and reminisce about their time together- to think of anything but their cold corpse, of their lack of pulse- trying to match his mental image to how he imagines they’re living back at home, where they’re still alive

azul ashengrotto

he can’t take it. azul just retreats- he can’t function, not like this

when he’s told that while his darling died, they technically returned home, he tries so hard to take that as good news, he really does

curled up in his bed, eyes puffy with tears, body weak from not leaving his bed, he tries to force himself to think that’s good news. it has to be good news, he has to be happy over it-

but in reality, he can’t. how is he supposed to take that?! he loved them, he wanted to be with them, spend time with them; and now he’s never going to even see them again, never get to hold them, never hear their reassuring voice when he has a bad day

his guilt and overall grief just double, if anything. he should be happy- but he can’t. he can’t be happy about the fact they’re back home, he just can’t celebrate it, and so his grief mounts

is this truly it? he falls in love, spends time, builds a relationship, and then they die and he mourns only to then be told it was actually somehow meant to happen and it was the way for them to return to their world? that’s how it all ends?

it truly takes a long while for him to compose himself- long weeks, months pass and he’s not quite well. he doesn’t know if he’ll be. he can’t bring himself to throw away the funeral flowers, can’t bring himself to go back to his daily life

it’s a slow and painful process, and all he can do is hope his lover isn’t going through something similar. he tells himself that the last thing he’d want is for them to be back home, mourning him like this and unable to live, so he has to be strong. for them, even though they’re no longer where he can reach them

kalim al-asim

kalim tries so hard to take it all and run with it, to keep a positive attitude. perhaps that’s why the image of him sobbing at the “funeral” was so heartwrenching, and perhaps that’s why when crowley pops up informing that even though his lover did die, this was actually the correct way to return them to their world, kalim tries so hard to take in the information

absolutely everyone can tell he’s broken. everyone can see the dried tears on his cheeks, the way his eyes are puffy and red. at nights, those with dorms close to him can hear him cry. but then he goes and acts like it’s fine, saying they’re ok! they went back home! haha, i hope they’re having fun!

it’s as if he’s not allowing himself to grieve, telling himself he has no right to mourn because they’re alive, even though he clearly needs to, needs to find a healthy way to air out his emotions

but he doesn’t. he’s trying to immediately shove down the horror and overwhelming despair of his lover’s death and try to celebrate their return home, trying to ignore his own wounds to lighten the mood

it’s painful to watch, but there’s not much to do. what can even be done? there’s no guide on how to help someone in this situation; usually it’s him gently giving help to others, encouraging them to confront their emotions, but when it comes to himself he seems to just be letting his own grief and sadness eat him alive

kalim never forgets them. he always brings them up- when he sees their favourite food, when he sees a bench they liked to sit in, when he sees a colour they liked. it’s as if he’s reassuring himself they aren’t truly dead, as if he’s promising himself that if he can keep their memory fresh it’ll be as if they aren’t as far away from him as they are

vil schoenheit

the scariest part of vil’s mourning is that he shows nobody his weakness. during the funeral, he barely sheds tears, despite his hands shaking from how hard he’s clutching the edges of his lover’s casket, during his mourning he always seems to be composed despite his makeup telling he’s been crying and hastily attempting to touch it up

... he wishes he could say finding out his lover didn’t truly die eased the pain. it did, in a sense- but it just brought on a different kind of pain

he can’t just mourn, he can’t grieve his loss like a normal person. everyone’s eyes are on him, his job requires for him to keep a good public image; every day he has to fix himself, has to try and make his very clearly exhausted and tear stained face look appropriate

he tries to cling onto the fact they’re alive like a mantra. they’re alive back at home they didn’t truly die they’re ok they’re alive back at home; he repeats it in his head like a mantra, trying to keep himself from just breaking down while going on about his daily life

but it’s just not enough. he can’t help but drown in grief, drown in the “what ifs”. did they even want to go back? do they regret not getting to say goodbye? were they scared when they took their last breath here? did they think of him in his last moments here? do they think of him?

... would they have stayed if they’d had a choice?

it just tears him apart. there’s no way to know; he’s just hurting himself by asking those questions. there’s no point- they might be alive, but they’re still gone, realistically speaking.

all he can do is try to lose himself in his routines, try to not think as much as possible. try to just lock the memories that bring him warmth and ignore everything else- the death the what-ifs the distance between them- so he can function

idia shroud

it’s his fault. it has to be, somehow. idia has to be practically ripped away from his lover’s corpse, as his mind still can’t process what happened- no, he can- he can save them, he can bring them back, he can...!

he can’t.

they didn’t belong here, crowley says. their death isn’t a real death, it’s just their return to their world, where they’re supposed to be. there’s no bringing them back, not with any magic or any technology

and idia just breaks. 

isolated in his own room, he doesn’t allow anyone to get close. not even his own brother can seem to get to him; idia seems to act like a corpse, just laying in bed, trying to ignore the world. he’s not touching his videogames, not even trying to take care of himself, it’s as if he’s shutting out everything to drown in his own grief and regret

there’s no comfort in knowing that his lover returned home; it’s as good as them being dead for him, isn’t it? he can’t even try to fake being happy they’re home, because fuck, they were just- just ripped away from the life they’d built here so violently, they’d been here one day and the next they were lifeless, thrown back to the world they’d come from with no chance to even say goodbye

people worry for him. he’s not ok, and by the way things look, it doesn’t seem like he wants to be ok, letting himself waste away. ortho worries, despairs, begs for others to try to help, but what can they do? just show up and go “hey man, sorry about your significant other and like, only person you were truly close to passing away but not really because they got sent back to their world where you can never see them again, want a snack?”

it truly takes a lot to help him, and honestly it’ll take much more for him to go back to “normal”. he isn’t a stranger to mourning, but this loss, this emptiness is something he knows he can’t shake away- usually he’d turn to his lover for help when he fell into a spiral of negativity, but haha how funny of life to rip away his support system like that!

in the end, all he can do is slowly try to piece himself together; if not for him, for those who care about him; mainly for ortho. he knows the younger shroud was also attached to his lover, and so he slowly tries to do his best to comfort him, and in the process heal his shattered heart perhaps just enough to function once again

malleus draconia

there’s never quite been a storm as rough sweeping over the entire school. the clouds heavy with rain and thunder as malleus weeps and mourns, his emotions overwhelming him and turning into raw anger at the world itself while lilia desperately tries to calm him down before he causes serious damage

he’d always known they’d die one day- humans live less than fae, he knew that much. but he’d expected more time, he’d expected years. decades. and instead he got some months of happiness and love and then he was holding their corpse as it slowly grew colder

he rages and cries until he tires himself out. he doesn’t even know what he’s angry at- perhaps at crowley for not finding an alternate way home or for not letting malleus’ lover know of the dangers that lurk? perhaps at himself for not protecting his lover? or at the world itself for ripping away the first person he’s cared for in this way in such a violent manner?

the fact they’re “back home” means nothing to him. they’re gone- gone, out of his grasp. once malleus collapses, exhausted, it looks as if a beast had rampaged through NRC

he throws himself into trying to at least contact them. he’s powerful; he’s one of the best wizards there is- so how come he can’t even catch a glimpse of his beloved back in their homeworld? are they truly so far away from him?

dragon fae live for centuries upon centuries; and they mourn for years. after all, a year isn’t much time for malleus- and he couldn’t even bask in his beloved’s presence for that long- and it’s certainly not enough to heal the wounds in his heart

all he can do is try to wait, wait for the pain to subside; and meanwhile he’ll just suffer. the mere thought of his beloved is enough to make magic crackle in the air as emotions flood him, his guards and lilia running to his side to try and make him calm down

malleus doesn’t need sleep, but he forces himself to do so, just so he can dream of them. that’s as much as he can do. he’ll live for centuries, for years upon years: once everyone else is gone, only him and lilia will remember his beloved. he doesn’t want to forget them, doesn’t want their image to disappear.  if they truly are alive back in their world, then he promises to keep their memory alive here in his world