#Its like emotional agony like im being gutted

[doebt]

I am so miserable lately but like too at rock bottom to even talk or type about it like i just cant be bothered. just know that at any moment im being crushed by like. an emotional hydraulic press or trash compactor or something

[rotshop]

GONNA B HONEST W/ YOU ,,,,,, i rlly dont like how this is written lmao ,,,, but also im sleepy tired so i get a pass dhmu /j

[ TW ; gore, some violence, death ]

notes ; based offa DIS ,,, u might wanna read it for some context n shit ,,, lawl ,,,

-

Between the two of you, it's hard to tell who's suffocating more. It's hard to tell if its you, with the little pants that pass by your teeth in shaky steps, hitching whenever they're cut down when you have to stop to cough up blood. It should be you, you who has your guts spilled out onto the floor and your blood staining all the concrete underneath the both of you. It has to be you, who's leaning heavy against 2b's chest and drawing unfocused circles onto his shoulder. It had to be you, you just had to go inside by yourself, you just had to be slow on the draw and nearly be ripped clean in two. It just had to go wrong with just you.

Even with all that in mind, he feels like there's nothing in him. There's no lungs to draw in breaths, no mind with clear thoughts on what to do and how to stop this once more, and certainly no heart beating steadily. In those places was instead viscera, a mangled, nameless mess of pink and red weighing him. There was some clump of pink that drew in some shaky puffs, barely reaching him as he choked on his own pride. There was nothing but tangled strings and weights in his head, making his skull pound as something in the back of his mind screamed to do something. There was a heavy weight behind his ribs that stayed put, a finality hanging over his shoulder as it always would.

He doesn't want to cry. He shouldn't be, you're the one with your innards exposed to the eyes of any and all and your face buried in the crook of his neck, it should be you who's crying in pain. He shouldn't be crying, he shouldn't be shedding tears when there's not a single bleeding wound on his skin. He shouldn't be and yet they're tight in his throat, threatening to tumble past his lips and create an embarrassment of himself. A shift brings him back from his thoughts, turning his attention back to you.

There's a little stutter in your movements, a quick pause as your vision momentarily fails you and your breath is wheezed past your lips. A quick, aimless grasp at your innards to have them follow your movements, rather than stay partially stuck to the floor, tugged further from your soon-to-be-cadaver as you readjust. You're just pulling yourself ever closer to him, little to no space left between the two of you as you support yourself on his figure. He can't help the way his own movements choke and pause as he moves his arms to wrap around you. He can't help the way he takes a sharp, shaking inhale as the skin of his arm ghosts over the start of your gash.

He remembers the first time he'd been with you in your 'final' moments. He remembers how the line had fallen dead on your side and the others all fell into a silence. They'd only told him later on why, they 'didn't want to scare him off.' He was still a little upset about it, even now. He had always been stubborn like that, it was a fact of him that you regarded with warm laughter and endearing teases.

He remembers the pure terror that'd gripped him as he came across you, choked squeaks and hisses leaving your lips as you writhed. The debris around you and the tangle of pipes and bars you'd been impaled on told the story he never bothered to ask, the one he'd never truly questioned you on even to this day. Something about the way you'd glanced at him in that moment never left him. Maybe it was how the pure agony you'd been in moments before shifted to confusion on his being there, shifted into something gentler yet still as forlorn and miserable, either way it haunted him endlessly. He remembers how you were such polar opposites after he'd managed to tear himself from his place.

The clatter of his goggles against the ground fell on deaf ears when he'd rushed for you. He barely even noticed how quick his breath was speeding up, he was far too focused on helping you, on getting you back to base so he could fix this. It'd taken your weak swipes at him and breathless pleads to just stop to snap him back, he didn't want to listen to you. He wanted to tear you from that metal and drag you back to base, he wanted to set you down and get to work, and then he wanted to grab you by the collar and ask just what was going through your head. He wanted to be mad, he wanted to argue and to let go of all the tension wracking him and making his hands shake. It was tearing him limb from limb in the worst way possible, in the one way he never wanted to feel.

He was afraid. Honest to god terrified from the moment his gaze fell on your bleeding-out form. It shook him to his core in a way he hadn't felt in forever, breaking past the facade he'd worked so hard to build in an utterly humiliating manner. He hated the way he had to clench his hands and bite his tongue as he stared down at you, his weak attempt at keeping his tears back that hung by a thin string. He hated how he fell to his knees, coming face to face with you as you looked back at him.

Your eyes were still soft with accepting misery in the moment, a weak smile finding it's way onto your lips as you reached for him. You'd struggled, finding it difficult to meet his face when the world was spinning so dizzyingly. He'd hesitated, hand shaking as it found your wrist, him leaning into your touch with an unsteady breath. If the tears weren't already hanging behind his eyes, they would've burst up with a vengeance when you started brushing your thumb over the bandages on his face.

He couldn't remember how exactly you'd spoken, how you'd been able to between the gurgle of blood in your throat and the copper piercing you, but you had. It was a request ; a final wish of sorts he didn't want to deny you. You could've asked for anything in the moment and he would've done it for you, he would tear through whoever and whatever he had to for you. He would rend flesh and ruin relationships and scar the world if he had to in that very moment. He'd never been an especially generous type, he could extend a certain amount of kindness to others but there was a limit to his softness. Yet, you managed to turn him so, managed to make him give an excuse of 'it wouldn't hurt,' or 'it's just a one time thing,' when it came to you.

Even so, you'd made such a simple request. One he would've asked you himself in other circumstances if he weren't so stubborn with what little ego he clung to. One he would've been happy to hear from you in the comfort of home and privacy. Even so, he'd nodded when you asked. Even so, he'd ignored how his own hands shook as he held his over yours gently.

It was an odd feeling, your blood seeping into his mouth, iron heavy on his tongue as his lips met yours. The taste would've been revolting under any other circumstances, making him recoil and pull away with a note to never repeat the cause. Yet, he didn't. He kept his lips against yours gently, experience slipping him in the thick anxiety of the moment. Even then, reluctance followed when he pulled away.

Content lost its footing when you'd given him once last smile, then it fell with a crash when your gaze grew glassy and unfocused. He'd never forget the panic that gripped him so tightly, enough of a disturbance to slip past his guard and make the tears start to fall. He didn't even notice them in the moment, all he saw was your corpse and the end of the compassion and emotion you'd helped him regain over time. He never asked the others if they heard him then, if they heard him plead with you, if they heard the sobs and begs he never would've given if it weren't you. He's glad they never brought it up, it was just a touch easier to forget how he'd completely broken down for the first time in a long time when you'd fallen still.

He was glad you weren't able to hear them. He's sure you would've made some dumb comment about it as you stood before him, alive and well as though nothing happened. He's sure you would've smiled and hummed a question he wouldn't answer, he's sure he would've reacted all the same. He's sure he still would have grabbed you by the collar and shoved you back against the wall, he's sure he would've still hissed at you to explain yourself, ignoring the desperation laced in his voice as his eyes began to burn again. You had an effect on him, one he wouldn't ever admit to even if you poked and prodded at it time and time again by simple virtue of you being yourself.

You were a surprisingly good kisser for someone on the brink of death once more, but you were better at it when you could count how many of him there were.

He's not sure what pulls him back as he looks down at you again, noting your still form blankly. He's not sure why he pauses for a few long moments, simply keeping his arms around you as your body grows colder and colder. He's not sure why he tucks hair behind your ear and lets his hand linger, warm by contrast against you. He's not sure when he pulls himself up off the floor, careful of your innards as he pulls you up with him.

He is however sure he feels a hell of a lot better when you sit up from your previous place on the table, hand trailing over the stitches that line your stomach and chest as you give a little hum of approval. He's sure he's smiling a little at that simple bit of praise. He's sure you'd make a comment about it if you noticed.

"Happy to see me, huh?"

He's happy to be right.

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

[marssie]

thinking sooo fucking hard abt latest cough syrup update (chapter 25 i hold u gently...) thoughts. VVV

okay so first of all. ides outdoes himself Yet again. love the tying together of the jack vs tommy conflicts with tubbos relationship with the both of them, bc as far as im aware, i dont think thats pushed at all in the dsmp canon? i could be dead wrong, but i Love the plot point of tubbo being used as a go-between. like. god. felt. it feels soooo very cstubbo to try to mend his friends relationships from the inside out. what the fuck. hi.

and then the other side of it!!! where cstommy explains his side and gets very defensive about it!!!! tommys emotions r shown literally So well im going a bit crazy about it. and tubbo's diffusing skills for the both of them. hi can u hear me im kinda losing it.

well and what else am i going crazy about. the Constant family trauma brain processes, tubbo thinking himself a lost cause because when schlatt was doing similar things everyone hated him!!! augh. pain. agony, even. and the brief reflection of- hey yeah, ranboo means well when he says "talk to phil" but he doesnt really KNOW what its like!!! he doesnt know its not that simple!!! i rlly liked the brief acknowledgement of that.... just.... yeah.

also acknowledging that csranboo is a CAGEY MFER. and the 'hmmm. that is... disconcerting.' ghe urge to just go to ranboo and be like WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH U RN. the walls are cracking etc....

and the awkward bitchy car ride with the almost legal brother that u barely talk to without your mutual brother.... i dont have anything to add here but Literally. also the brief bit about techno standing outside of doors for upwards of five minutes. Please... djdmkgkwkf. like i knew we talked abt this before but it still fucking gut punched me thats so funny. and tubbo literally just constantly worrying abt his friends. Help him he is literally sinking. this guy is sinking help him.

@nightmare-rivulets u dont understand how much ur writing makes me lose it a little and i am bad at conveying in words but!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its v good, rlly dont worry abt ur stuff "decreasing in quality" its still like. Literally genius!!! also hi btw hihihi <- has a disease thst forces me to say hello in every interaction

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

GNSJGJJSK 😳😳😳 THE ASK SENT ON ITS OWN IM SO SORRY LET ME TRY AGAIN HDFJKDGKK THIS IS EMBARRASSING THE PROMPT WAS THIS: Eldritch au where young human Virgil (16-18) or Patton is running (kinda like (Un)Wanted but different idk) from an unnamed unsympathetic eldritch being (not a side) and gets caught up by ANOTHER eldritch being, this time it IS a side AND sympathetic. This sounds a lot like (Un)Wanted but I couldn’t get out of my head how cool an eldritch au would sound in ur writing style

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Thanks for the request, babe!

Embrace of Darkness

Pairings: Royality, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Warnings: some torture, nothing super graphic, and no unsympathetic anyone

Word Count: 4,074

Humans are such...fascinating. And so emotional, aren't they? Unfortunately for Patton, some creatures that don't understand emotions want to...experiment.

Humans can be so fragile.

...and capable of a kind of strength those creatures could only dream of.

“…oh, my pet, you should not have done that.”

The figure in the bonds winces as another bolt of energy hits his chest. He arches his back, suppressing a yelp as it twists, twists, and pinches.

“St-stop,” he pants, his hair hanging in limp, bedraggled curls around his head, soaked with sweat, “stop, please.”

“Begging already? Well, I must make a note of that, that was quicker than last time.”

The pain stops. The figure slumps in relief as the shadow moves away. His eyes fall shut, taking advantage of the momentary reprieve he has before it starts again.

How could he have been so stupid?

He was told not to mess with Eldritch power, he was told not to go into the restricted section, he was told not to use the Summoning Grounds. And yet, by some stupid decision—arrogance? Curiosity? Or that stupid compassion—he did.

And now…

Now he was here, subject to the whims of a being that did not yet understand the human capacity for emotion and was hell-bent on figuring that out.

The days—weeks? Months? Hours?—they spent on smiling were agony. His cheeks had ached by the end of the first few rounds and his lips had dried and cracked, blood spilling down his chin. Then the being had wanted to count his teeth and had pried his mouth open wider still, holding it agape with some awful magic that tasted of capsaicin. His tongue had begun to bleed too.

If smiling had been agony, then laughing had been torture.

Laughter is a fear response, he remembered having read that somewhere, and only here had he understood that. Something had reached deep into him, into his gut as the being’s hand phased through his stomach and clenched, drawing forth laughs upon laughs upon laughs and oh it had hurt. His throat had screamed and his lungs had begged for release.

Now, it appears, they were on to crying.

“You humans,” the being muses as it runs an icy cold finger over his cheek, “so…squishy. And soft. You’re absolutely covered in this squishy soft stuff…I wonder how it would feel on my own bones…”

He whimpers in fear but dares not move. The energy that crackles around his bonds, poised to strike, is enough of a deterrent on their own.

“Oh, why so scared, little human,” the being mocks, seizing his chin and forcing his gaze up, “I did promise not to kill you, as you requested.”

He has never regretted anything more than that.

What was he supposed to do? When a being older then time itself and infinitely crueler had appeared in front of him, he’d blurted the first thing that came to his mind. Please don’t kill me.

Death, it seems, is not a mercy he’ll be granted.

“You stay put,” the being laughs, throwing him back into his bonds, “I’ll be right back. Someone else is summoning me now. Perhaps I’ll have another plaything to add to my collection.”

The figure whimpers again as a rush of cold energy fills the room. Then a void. The being is gone.

He slumps, his breathing haggard, panting for any sort of release. The corners of his eyes hurt, when had the corner of his eyes ever been a source of hurt? The skin feels like it’s been rubbed raw; salt pressed into the wound. His wrists ache, his throat aches, everywhere aches, but all he can feel is the burn at the corners of his eyes.

The light flickers. His head jerks up. Are they—are they back already?

He squints. N-no, no…something…

Something’s wrong.

The energy that holds him still is flickering, not the overhead light. His eyes widen as he tugs experimentally at the binds and finds them…loose.

His heart jumps into his throat. He holds his breath.

It flickers again.

Clenching his jaw tightly, he yanks.

He almost collapses to the ground, knees wobbling terribly, but he’s free. There’s a door. Run, run, run.

He stumbles over himself, floundering through some mist that tastes of pure darkness until he sees the door and falls through it.

Falling. Falling. He’s falling. It’s dark, it’s so dark…the darkness is tangible, he can feel it pressing in around him, down, down, down, down, he’s being sucked into it, drawn into an uncontrollable vortex with an insatiable hunger. He’s being eaten.

And as the fear swirls in his gut, as it fills his mind, adrenaline roaring in his ears, as the tips of his fingers go numb, a dark, primal satisfaction burns in some demented corner of his heart because he knows he tastes good.

The darkness hurts to look at. So he won’t. He shuts his eyes, squeezes them tight, drowns in a familiar darkness, not the scary one, and lets himself fall.

It’s not the fall that kills you, it’s the sudden stop.

Something buzzes in the corner of Roman’s mind and he frowns, waving his hand through the mist, through his many limbs stretched across his realm. Is someone here? Has his brother come to visit?

He peers closer, looking through the many threads holding this reality together. Oh. Oh, something’s falling through. He must get his roof fixed. He sighs, reaching out to disintegrate the pesky bit of debris.

Right before he makes contact, he stops. What…what is that?

A quick flick of one of his threads slows time, allowing his attention to zoom in and squint at the little thing falling through his reality. Is that…is that a human?

What is a human doing here?

Roman reaches out, concentrates his threads, tangling the human in little golden strings and pulling, pulling slowly, carefully, to lay them delicately at the center. He frowns, looking closer. This human looks…smaller than most. Is it one of the younger ones? It looks independent, at least independent-capable, even though mortal dependency is not one of his strong suits, but then why is it here?

Is it a sacrifice? He’s not had a sacrifice in millennia. And no demands came with it…

The age of sacrifice for appeasement’s sake is long over for mortals. Plus, tormenting little things loses its appeal after a while, wouldn’t you agree?

Roman sighs, resigning himself to figuring out what to do with this little human. It hangs there, tangled up in the golden threads, and looks so terribly, terribly small. Are all humans this small? Roman’s quite forgotten.

The buzzing hasn’t stopped. Normally, when the problem has been located, and Roman’s aware of it, it stops. It hasn’t stopped. Is something else wrong?

He feels around a little, just to figure out where it’s coming from, only to discover not only is it still happening, it’s increased. And it’s coming from this little thing, tangled up in his threads.

Roman braces himself and looks.

The threads spin elegantly outwards, creating a small circle plinth in the swirling chaos. The human lies on it gently, still held lightly just to make sure it doesn’t roll off. Roman concentrates, wills the human to show him what’s wrong.

Small golden lights being to glow from directly under the human.

The human twitches on the plinth. The lights’ glow begins to spread along the grooves, working its way outward to the rim of the circle, then back in, each pass growing bright and brighter. The human lets out a small sound. Its hands splay out, fingers digging into the grooves it can reach. Across the circle, Roman closes his eyes, threads twitching softly.

The lights run back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Roman growls low in his throat, focuses.

Back and forth. It hurts to look directly at the stone now.

Roman whines, his threads growing taut.

He reaches out, pulling more threads to hold the reality together around this little human, waving frantically back and forth. It seems to help, they all sway in unison. What kind of things must the human be experiencing if it’s making them react like this?

The human whimpers.

It’s almost drowned out by the lights, now, the only parts of it visible are the brief, shuddering motions of their tiny body, a tiny respite in the blazing light. It pulses unevenly. Its fingers are swallowed by the shine from the ground, hands barely there. It whines again, a high pitch that penetrates into his head and lodges in some soft part, burrowing like a mouse into its den.

The lights flare up so brilliantly it staggers him, throwing energy in front of his face to shield it from the light, the others racing to shield his reality from the rest of it. A moment later it dims slightly, enough for him to blink a few times before looking back at the circle.

The circle is now a sphere, the lights from inside the circle having thrown themselves upwards, arcing over the stone to form a golden ball, twinkling against the green wetland. It isn’t solid; through the small gaps in between the lights he can still make out the threads on the other side, still holding tightly, and if he peers towards the center, he can still see the human.

The human made a shield…it is…defending?

Roman’s heart clenches as he looks closer. It’s not a shield, the formation is wrong. The human is defending, yes, but not itself. It’s made a cage.

His suspicion is right. Upon closer inspection, the lights protrude slightly inwards along the inside of the sphere, creating a cruelly jagged interior. This isn’t designed to keep out an enemy, it’s designed to keep the human contained.

The human is defending him…from itself.

Then he hears it.

The sobs punch through, ripping the still place to shreds, yanking the air back and forth violently, echoing around and around the circle. The rawness of it never wavers, the wave keeps building and building, an open wound, never yielding for a single moment. Every hitch, every crack lands like a solid weight, threatening to collapse the circle deep into the earth. It’s the cry of a child, the last child, a terrified, angry, desperate child, coming out like an uproar from its throat. It’s more than crying, it’s the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a patient sadness, one without hope.

It’s pain.

It twists, ripping its way through layers and layers of carefully crafted defenses, a wave of anger wrapping around internal organs and knotting them together, a fear sending stabs and shakes throughout limbs, an ache yanking a still-beating heart into the bitterly frigid air.

Roman’s threads are itching before he fully realizes what’s happening, desperate for something, anything to do to make it stop. It hurts, the human hurts, and he can’t do anything. There is no enemy he can fight, no words he can say, nothing.

He hovers there, helpless, as the human shatters.

Whatever he thought before about pain, about hiding it, about its weight, is wrong. There’s so much, so much he wishes to say, to do, to…how does it have so much?

And how did he not sense it?

He had felt pain before, through mortals, knew of their capacity to feel…but not like this. He knew that they could hide it, but not like this. His kind was not meant to feel pain, to hold it, to carry it with them, to hold it still, so still, wrapped in their bodies.

Humans…this little human can.

The lights glimmer in their sphere, slow currents wrapping orbits around the orb, carried along by the tides of the sounds waves.

They pause.

With a whoosh, they fall back to the ground, retreating slowly back along the grooves to the center.

The human lies curled up, limbs thrown haphazardly over itself, drawn and clutched tight around her body. It doesn’t move for long, baited seconds, drawing shuddering breath after breath. Every now and then they hitch and his heart jumps with them, hands clenched.

Then it draws a longer breath and holds it, letting it out slowly over eight counts.

It shifts.

Roman breathes a sigh of relief as it slumps, the buzzing slowly fading. Unconsciously, the threads wrap themselves tightly around the plinth, turning it into something softer, something more delicate, that cradles the little human as it sleeps.

It hurts still, lingering in some ache that Roman can’t scratch, until he realizes it’s his own. He is in pain, just from bearing witness to how much pain his little human has held. If this…if just this is enough to make him want to purge it from his reality, he cannot conceive of how much this poor little thing must hurt.

Not again. Never again. This little thing will not hurt and will not be hurt ever again.

It’s been so long…so long since Roman kept a human, kept anything. He’s got to figure it out…well, let’s start simple.

Holding his power at bay, he leans closer, examines the little mortal and concentrates, starts to pull and shape the ether until he has another body, another little form, standing next to the little human on the plinth. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, he stares down at the human’s sleeping face from a very similar pair of eyes.

He runs a hand—hand? Is that the right word?—over himself, checking that everything’s right. It’s not a completely…uncomfortable existence, but there are a few things he wonders about. Perhaps he can ask…later.

For now, he crouches down next to the human—not so little anymore, now that they’re the same size—and reaches out to run his hand over their cheek. Oh…oh, it’s damp. There’s liquid leaking from their eyes. Right, they’d been crying.

“You poor thing,” Roman murmurs, his voice sounding a little strange coming out of a human mouth, so he alters it, softens it, makes it easier to hear, “poor…poor thing, little thing, little one, sweet thing, soft thing…”

They’re so soft, so soft, under his hand. He falls into a rhythm of stroking their cheek, running his fingers through their hair, reaching down to lightly squeeze their own hand in his. As he does so, that ache in his chest slowly fades, replaced by another, warmer one, another beast that almost purrs in contentment as the human turns their head towards him in their sleep, letting him scratch his fingers across their scalp.

“I’ll look after you, little human,” he promises, his threads already getting to work, “I’ll look after you.”

His eyes blink open.

Hadn’t…hadn’t he been falling? Why…why is he lying on something soft? Is—is he hallucinating? Is this another trick? What’s going on?

He moves slowly, carefully, trying not to alert anything else to his presence, only to realize he’s—

He’s in a bed.

He paws at the soft comforter in disbelief, how…he’s been tucked in and everything. And this isn’t a small bed, it’s massive. The pillow behind his head is easily the size of his torso and so soft…

Part of him wants to nuzzle back into the comforter, into the soft pillow, fall asleep and never wake again.

Part of him wants to know what’s going on.

As he gets out of the bed, his feet come to rest on the floor and he winces, bracing for a creak or something to give him away. But no. In fact, he’s barely louder than a whisper as he creeps his way to the door, opening it and slipping through.

It’s…a garden?

Well, not so much a garden as it is one single grove of trees, a small bench in the middle. He glances behind him and blinks. The room he came from definitely had four walls, and yet as he looks, he can only see the doorframe, floating in the middle of golden light. There is not sky, no ground other than a soft dusting of grass and petals that have drifted down from a tree next to the bench. What is going on?

He remembers falling. He remembers being so tired, so worn, closing his eyes and letting himself fall.

He remembers being…caught? He remembers something winding around him, something that cradled him, not bound him. He remembers something pulling him somewhere else, through the swirling mist.

He remembers being laid on something soft. He remembers a hand stroking his cheek. He remembers a voice, a low voice, saying it would look after him.

“Oh. You’re awake?”

That voice. He whirls around to see—another human? A figure, at any rate, standing next to the doorframe. The figure tilts his head, walking forward, only to stop when he flinches backward.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises in that same low voice, “I didn’t know you’d be awake so quick.”

“What do you want?” He winces when his voice sounds absolutely wrecked.

“Want? Nothing, at least not right now.” The figure reaches for him. “You look scared.”

“I—“ he gulps— “I am, please don’t touch me.”

The figure blinks. “Don’t mortals need physical contact to be reassured?”

Oh no, not another one.

“Oh,” the figure murmurs when he stumbles even further away, “oh dear, no, little one, it’s alright, I won’t touch you.”

“S-stay away,” he gasps, “please, don’t—don’t hurt me, stay back.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, little one, I promise, I’ll stay back here, just—just calm down, please.”

Something in the figure’s voice gives him pause. He keeps his arms up, ready to defend himself, but it…the way the figure’s looking at him…

“…you won’t hurt me?”

The figure shakes his head emphatically. “Never, little one, I’d never hurt you, you’ve—you’ve been hurt enough already.”

“W-what?”

“When you fell,” the figure says softly, his fingers still twitching, “I—I could feel your pain, everything, I could feel it, and I’m so, so, sorry that this happened to you, oh, little one, no one should have to hurt like that…”

His eyes widen when the figure starts to weep. He…his pain is enough to make…whatever this is cry for him?

“What happened,” the figure says in a strangled whisper, “who hurt you, little one?”

And suddenly the whole sorry story is spilling out of him, about the summoning, about the experiments, the torture, the escape. The figure sobs with him as he tightens his arms around himself, trying to stop the phantom pain from sending him to his knees.

“You mean to tell me—“ the figure gulps in a breath— “that one of my kind did that to you?”

He flinches slightly at the mention of ‘my kind’ but as he looks at the distraught expression on the figure’s face, something warm burrows its way into his chest and flutters.

“I’m so sorry, little one,” the figure mumbles, oblivious to his dilemma, “I—I would destroy them if it didn’t mean leaving you alone.”

“…you don’t want to leave me alone?”

The figure tilts his head. “No, little one, I don’t. I want to look after you, I want to keep you safe so you never have to go through that again.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

He’s…he’s serious. He wants to look after—he wants to—

“You want to…protect me?”

The figure nods, reaching out for him again. This time, he lets the figure take a step closer.

“You have been so strong,” the figure mumbles, “so strong, little one, and you’re hurting so much because of it, I want to help you.”

“…but why?”

“You hurt,” the figure emphasizes, “and if—if I hurt at just the memory of your hurt, then I—you must hurt so much.”

Despite everything, a spark of hope begins to bloom in his chest. He edges a step closer, trying to deny the way the spark flares brighter at the encouraging smile he gets.

“Isn’t that…” He swallows around the lump in his throat. “…isn’t that weakness?”

The figure’s mouth drops open, his hand clenching into a fist. “No, little one, it isn’t a weakness. Feeling—the ability to—a heart is not a weakness, little one.”

“…it isn’t?”

“No, little one, listen to me, you—“

The figure takes a breath and the certainty in his eyes blazes.

“You are not weak,” he says firmly, “you are gifted with the ability of heightened intuition. You do not have anything to be ashamed of, it is a reminder that you have the gift of empathy. Not many beings possess this rare trait because it takes a special kind of being to be genuinely compassionate.”

He pauses, taking another tiny step closer, his eyes pleading.

“Your kindness is not your weakness,” he whispers, “it is your strength. Own who you are. You have a beautiful, brave soul.”

He can’t.

The figure lets out a wounded noise as he collapses, racing to his side and catching in arms that are impossibly warm, pulling him into a lap that wraps around him and holds him close, murmuring words in that wonderful, wonderful voice that makes him feel like the air itself is trying to calm him down.

“I have you, brave one, I have you,” the figure whispers, “you stay right here with me. Won’t you stay, brave one, and let me protect you?”

He wants to. Oh, he aches to.

“…can I stay?”

“Of course,” comes the instant reply, “of course you can, brave one, I would be so happy if you stayed.”

“Y-you would?”

The figure smiles ruefully as he pulls back just enough so they can see each other’s faces. “Would you believe me if I said I got lonely every now and then?”

Millennia, alone in the darkness…he can’t imagine.

The figure lets out a soft gasp of surprise when he tightens his grip. “Does that make you upset, brave one? Thinking of me alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, brave one, you’re so strong,” the figure murmurs, running one hand through his hair, “I can’t imagine how much it must be to feel. All the time.”

“It’s tiring,” he manages to slur out. Speaking of which…

“I’m sure.” The hand in his hair is doing wonders. “Will you tell me your name, brave one, so I know what to call you?”

Somewhere in his sleep-fogged brain, he thinks he remembers something about not giving your name out to creatures who ask for it.

“That’s the fair folk, brave one,” the figure says gently, “but also a good practice. Here, if you like, I will give you mine first, and then you can decide, hmm?”

“Okay.”

“My…well, my name isn’t something that mortal tongues can pronounce, I don’t think, but you can call me Roman.”

Roman. Roman. That’s easy enough.

He raises his head just a little, if only to let it flop onto Roman’s shoulder.

“Patton.”

“Patton?” He nods. “That’s a lovely name, brave one, thank you for telling me.”

Patton should say something, thank Roman in return, say he’s thankful for the protection Roman is giving him, something, but oh, Roman is warm, Roman is soft, and he’s so, so, tired.

“…sleep.”

“You need to sleep, Patton?” Patton nods clumsily into Roman’s neck. “Do you want me to take you back to the bed? Those—those are good for sleep, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t really remember being lifted up and carried. He remembers being laid down in something soft again, something warm, but not as warm as Roman.

He doesn’t remember being tucked in, the soft comforter around him again. He remembers a warm voice promising something.

He doesn’t remember asking Roman to stay, reaching out clumsily for him as he pulls away.

He remembers another body tucked up next to him, wrapping around him gently, as the darkness takes him again.

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[kookieskiwi]

Hi! Can I request ot7 mafia au! x reader with the situasion of panic attack "we're here baby take a breath for us". Kookieskiwi I hope you're doing well btw I like your new drabble and I'm in love with it and its make me want more Im sorry 😭. I love you 😘💜

(Akbdiandhe I screamed when I got this notification ❤️ I’m doing really good, thank you for your concern 🥺💕 i try really hard to write things my readers want to read so I’m extremely happy that you liked my recent Drabble 🥺✨ don’t apologize for wanting more! You have no idea how happy it makes me to write for you guys ❤️ and even more so when it’s because you liked one of my previous works so much! I love you so much more and remember ‘you nice keep going’ my lovely 💜😘🤩)

This is the last Drabble they are referring to btw

WARNING: MENTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK AND MURDER, if these topics are triggering for you I suggest you don’t read this!

-

Today wasn’t a good day for you at all. The boys left before you had even woken up for a deal they had been planning for months now leaving you to spend the entire day alone. You understood they were business men of sorts and with that occupation came ungodly hours of work which often left you alone. But being alone wasn’t that much of a problem because you always had contact with the boys somehow wether it be a simple text message or a quick phone call.

But now, in the early hours of the next morning when you hadn’t heard from them all day; you weren’t okay at all. You kept your phone near you at all times; when you showered, went to the bathroom, cooked dinner for all of you only to put the rest in the fridge, but ultimately you did nothing but lay around the house hoping to hear a ‘ding’ from your phone which never came.

They had been gone for 24 hours without a single word. From midnight to three am you had been calling guards and those who worked under them in case they had any knowledge of their whereabouts but all came back negative. They had been gone for days before but never without checking in every few hours or so to let you know they were okay. Sometimes it was simply a heart emoji or a ‘love you’ which was enough to let you know they were okay.

“Are you sure you haven’t heard anything from them?” You asked one of their subordinates from the agency. “No ma’am, the last we heard from them was right before they left. We’ve been searching everywhere and hacking into security footage around town but they’re good at what they do, they won’t be found easily.” He responded telling you everything you already knew. They were the best of the best when it came to everything including secrecy. Which was great, until now.

“Thank you Soobin, please keep an ear and eye out in case you see or hear anything from them.” You told him sighing, “will do Noona, until then please don’t make any rash decisions. Stay home and if they don’t check in within the next few hours I’ll send someone to get you and bring you to the HQ.” He informed you of his plan which you agreed to easily, it’d be much better being alone with people around as odd as that may seem. You were alone without the loves of your life and without knowing if they were okay or not.

It was now 5 am and they hadn’t checked in with anyone and no one knew of their whereabouts. You tried holding in your tears as the gut wrenching feeling that something had gone wrong hit it was hard not to let a tear fall. Trekking up the stairs to your shared bedroom you didn’t want to see the empty bed so you walked slowly hoping that before you got to the top of the stairs they would come rushing through the door and they’d be safe in your arms once again.

You were tired and worried which was never a good mix for you. The fear of losing the ones you loved the most got to you on the last step of the staircase before you came tumbling down both emotionally and physically. You tried clutching onto the railing to keep you stabilized but it failed as your body crumpled onto the stairs curling yourself into a ball and you resting your head in your hands.

Your stomach felt as if it you were one a roller coaster at the tip top before it fell. The anxiety you had build up during the day was the roller coaster and the falling was you right now. All the way to rock bottom. Your sobs filled the room while you tried to comfort yourself by curling even further into your own body. “Please let them be okay, god please.” You prayed knowing it was the only thing you could do now besides wait. The simple thought of them not making it back home was enough to throw you into a downward spiral.

Ringing in your ears began to drown out the sound of your own cries and please that you were no longer controlling. Your head began to ache with a fuzz which clouded your thoughts and filled your head. Your throat was on fire from crying, you were shaking like a leaf in the wind, you couldn’t hear anything but the blood thrumming through your veins but none of that mattered. No, all that mattered to you was your boys who weren’t here and that was the worst part.

Clutching your pounding head you tried breathing but you couldn’t, you couldn’t do anything but lie there letting yourself fade into your own emotions. Your chest ached as if your heart had physically shattered from the agony of not knowing and knowing you were helpless in this situation.

“Please be okay, please come home to me. I promise to love you for the rest of our lives, I love you all so much God please let them come back home.” You pleaded with your eyes screwed shut. You felt like you were drowning in your own tears, the inability to catch your breath being the main factor in this feeling but your whole body felt under some sort of pressure.

That was until you felt a much heavier pressure on top of that, the numbness you had felt overcome your body slowly went away with the ringing in your ears which allowed you to come to an understanding of what exactly that pressure was.

A person.

Opening your eyes you tried to see but everything was blurry, your tears kept falling no matter how hard you tried to stop. “We’re here baby. Take a breath for us please.” It was Yoongi. Your Yoongi. And he said ‘We’re’ meaning they are all home. Choking on your sobs once again you reach out to him and anyone near you to hold them as close as possible.

“You’re- home.” You sobbed into his chest as him arms reached around you to pull you further into his embrace. You let everything else out in tears of relief. They were home. Alive. Safe. The more you cried the less intense your sobs got and the more you could breath even though it was still hard to regulate your body. “Please never do that again.” Your voice cracked as you squeezed Jimin’s hand in yours sighing but still hiccuped as you tried to calm down.

“We won’t baby. I promise because we are retiring from that job.” Namjoon told you coming close to your face to wipe the tears away, he held your face between his calloused hands which you leaned into, craving to feel him; all of them. “W-what?” You asked confused, you thought you heard correctly but you weren’t sure. After coming down from such an intense panic attack you didn’t know what was real and what was part of your imagination. “We are here, for there rest of out lives. Just you and us. No more late night jobs, no more trades that make us leave for days, none of it anymore. Just us, settling down and staring the family we’ve always wanted.” He explained further making you want to sob even more knowing all your nights of worrying were coming to an end.

You couldn’t help but let a few more tears slip as you smile at them, crying now from the sheer thought of having all of them home safe and sound. “I love you all so much, I was so scared.” You told them shutting your eyes closed once again to cry a little more. “I’m so sorry baby, we were ambushed and we lost all connection with you and the agency. We couldn’t risk them finding our home, finding you, so we hide and we couldn’t contact anyone in fear they had the entire city’s phone system tapped to listen in.” Hoseok told you helping you stand up on your shaky legs only for him to pick you up like a koala and to have you cling to him for dear life.

“Did you kill them? Because if you didn’t I will.” You mumbled looking at the six others who followed behind Hoseok as he walked with you in his arms to the bedroom. They all let out a simultaneous chuckle and you could feel the warmth re-enter your body at the sound. These were the men you loved and lived for. “We did baby, don’t worry.” Taehyung told you with his signature boxy smile as if you weren’t just talking about murder making you giggle.

Hoseok laid you on the bed softly and kept you in his embrace as the others changed and showered before handing you to Jin who kissed all over your face as he helped you shower and relax by massaging you with the bath oils and soap.

After everyone was cleaned and dressed you were tucked into bed between all of your lovers but sandwiched between Jungkook and Jimin. You were in the bed that would no longer be empty when you woke up for went to sleep because you’d have your lovers right beside you for the rest of your life. And you couldn’t be happier at the thought of that.

“What do you say about getting married?”

-

...I’m smelling an epilogue or part two if requested 😏 maybe some brief baby making on their honeymoon?

[shadedrose01]

Monster

Relationships: Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Tags: Time Travel, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon Character Death Discussed, Canonical Character Death, Its not shown tho, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure

Prompts: “2029, that’s not a real year” / time travel / future au

Notes: HAPPY PARKNER WEEK 2020 EVERYBODY!! Im so excited for this, and I hope you guys are too! We're starting off with a fic that's more irondad with Harley than parkner, oops 😅 BUT most of the rest of the week is allll parkner. Either way, I hope you all enjoy!! 💞💞

Read on ao3 here!

~~

The tools he was subconsciously fidgeting with fall to the floor with a few loud bangs, and theres a quick thought of "oh shit, Jax" before its gone and the overwhelming reality of his situation smacks him in the face and floods his mind. This, this can't be real, he reasons, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped, his vision blurry from sudden tears as he stares at the hologram in front of his own two eyes. Blinks, ignoring the tracks that run down his cheeks, rubs his eyes hard, checks again. Because it can't be true, but the hologram still says "successful", still shows the 99.73% chance of working, still gleams in a bright green glow and illumates the entire room.

He releases a shuttering breath, takes a wobbly step back on legs that feel like they'll give out at any second, grasps on tightly to the table beside him to hold him upright as his gaze is still locked into the image still in front of him, still existent, still real even though it couldn't be, it was too good to be true, but it was.

He places his free hand hand over his mouth, his lips pulling at his cheeks as his smiles so unbelievably wide, tears slipping into his mouth unbeknownst to him because- he did it. He really did it.

Harley had found a way to recreate time travel. He had his chance.

Eleven years ago, Harley had disappeared into ashes and dust, had died along with half of the entire planet, the entire universe. Six years ago, he had returned, lost and confused, only to find his house in shambles, his mother dead and that Tony Stark- the man that had saved his life once upon a time- had done it again, along with everyone else by snapping the infinity stones and bringing everyone back, losing his own life in the process. A few days after that, he was called by Pepper Potts herself- or, Pepper Stark now, he later discovers- to tell him the news, and personally invite him to his funeral. A few weeks, and he was on a plane, then in a car, then surrounded by people, heroes in which he didn't know, seemingly the only non-powered kid there, outside of Tony Stark's daughter.

Six years ago, Harley Keener met one Peter Parker, and everything fell into place. Everything that was once dark, cloudy, uncertain after a whole five years of being gone, was now bright, sunny, and hopeful. They were at a funeral, sure, but Harley just knew that they were meant to be. They just clicked, and as the days, weeks, months, and years went on, they had grown together. First through their grief, then their confusion, their bitterness, fustration and anger at a world that had moved on without them, then through their connection, their love. They had talked through messages and even hand written letters when they were 16, 17, they had went to university together when they were 18, 19, moved in together when they were 20, 21, and adopted their Jackson, or Jax as they called him, when they were 22, 23. They were soulmates since the moment they met, had found each other when they needed each other most, and Harley had always said, always known that it was Tony who had put them together, who had put them in the same place and gifted them with the other, and Harley couldn't have been more thankful.

And yet... Harley couldn't get this stupid idea out of his head. He had gotten it the first year after, when he had drank away his sorrows and clambered to the lab, throwing things out of the closet, Tony's closet in a fit of passion, of agony and loss, until he had stumbled upon two glass tubes full of a vibrant red liquid and had frozen solid, like a deer in the headlights, an idea, a plan forming in his head. He had scribbled down everything he could think of, he drew what he remembered of the way the time portal had looked, had rambled to Peter about once he had come home from his patrol- his coping mechanism of the time- trying to think of ways to recreate the very time machine Tony had recreated to go back to retrieve the stones, only instead of getting stones, they'd be saving him, saving Tonys life and it would be great.

But, then he remembers how Peter had shut it down then and there, how upset the other man had gotten, thinking Harley was insane, telling him of all the things that could go wrong, of how it could change the entire outcome of the universe, and then, once he recognized how drunk Harley truly was, had dragged him to bed and given him an ultimatum in the morning, had told him to forget the idea in the morning, or else they were over. And Harley had forgotten about it for a while, had put it into the back of his mind and tried to focus on the here and the now, tried to focus on their relationship, on Peter, on his kid, on their lives... but he just couldn't get it out of his mind. Not completely. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch, that just grew more and more itchy the longer he ignored it. When he had proposed to Peter underneath the stars, at a candlelight dinner, and they had called all of their family afterwards, he had felt a pang in his heart. When he had gotten married to the man of his dreams in the forest, surrounded by their family and friends, he had ached, knowing Tony would've been in the front seat, probably crying like a baby, even though he'd never admit it. When they had adopted little Jax, and gotten to hold their baby for the first time, Harley had yearned, aching for the father figure in his life to help give him advice, to help tell him what to do, to be there at all. Even though Tony and Harley hasn't been close before everything, he had always wanted Tony to be there for these steps of his life, and he knew, knew that Tony had wanted it too. He wanted to rant to him about his crush, wanted to ask for his hand, wanted him to walk him down the aisle, wanted him to teach him how to be a dad, wanted to tell him all about Jax and his quirks, his first steps, "He's babbling now, Tony, it's the cutest sound you'll ever hear!" and he just...

He hears footsteps walking down the hall, and Harley's breath hicks. His gaze shifts to the two smaller tubes on full display on his desk, just beside the reactor for Iron Lad suit that he had upgraded for this exact situation, just in case this moment ever happened. He hears Peter call his name, sounding a little worried, and his gut drops, his heart beating like stallion galloping in an open field. He doesn't think as he grabs the reactor, sticking it to his chest and pressing it, feeling the nanites fall into place over his skin as he also grabs the tubes, putting one into the canister and the other into a holding area, for his way back, before racing to the platform and hovering his finger over the button, the system already set to bring him back to April 15th, 2023.

He knew Peter would be upset, and might hate him, might leave him for this but... he had a chance, and he just couldn't let it go. He squeezes his eyes shut, feels more liquid slip down his cheeks, silently begs for forgiveness before pushing the button just as his helmet falls in front of his face, Peter's face, full of unbridled fear being the last thing he sees, a scream of his name being the last thing he hears before he shrinks, collapsing again and again as he weaves through tunnels of nothing, of time, he assumes, his eyes narrowing and his teeth clenching as his body is bashed around by the wind and speed of his decent, until suddenly he's on the ground again, on all fours, his hands and feet grabbing onto dirt and surrounded by dust particles floating in the air. Harley gasps, panting out fast breathes as he sits up, and turns to look behind him, his mask retracting instinctively as he sees the ruins of the Avengers Compound, and loses his breath again.

He's here, holy shit, he's here, he's doing this, oh my god Peter was going to kill him.

His head whips around as he hears a loud yell, multiple yells, and then screaming, sounds of weapons clashing and fists thumping, people fighting, and it brings him right back into his reality, his helmet returning over his face as he creeps forward, around the rock (or scrap of compound, Harley couldn't tell) that he was hiding behind to see the battle firsthand, the allies matched by the enemies one for one. From here, Harley can see Black Panther, T'Challa swiping at an aliens ankles before jumping on top of him and slitting his throat, while his sister Shuri is beside him, shooting lasers the smaller ones rushing beside them. A wizard is using a magic rope against another alien creature, holding it down while a... goose? Duck? Burns its face with a cigar. Harley doesn't know why he's surprised at that, he's seen weirder in his years, but he shakes it off quickly, whispering for his AI, TON-EE, to track and find her namesake.

He can't be seen, he knows that much. Iron Lad didn't exist at this time, Harley wasn't apart of the battle, and now, as he watches it take place all around him, smells the sharp bitterness in their air, breathes in particles and coughs out soot, he's sort of thankful that he wasn't, a complete contrast to the nights, the years spend wishing that he was. 

TON-EE beeps at him, and then a map comes up, of one large red dot surrounded by what looks like a million tiny white ones, all allies and enemies, and when it zooms out, Harley can see its right in the middle, right where all of the action is. Of course Tony could be there, in the hardest place possible for him to get to. He's gotta make things harder for him, even after death. Or, before death? Whatever, it doesn't matter. Or, it won't, if Harley gets his way.

He's just gotta get there now. He can hear the battle raging on in the background as he whispers to TON-EE, and starts to fly, feeling the armor shift as it turns and flips, the retroreflective panels going into place and turning him mostly invisible to the naked eye. Normally he wouldn't fly when in this mode, his replusors and their glow would give him away, but he's hoping the battle will be enough of a distraction to where nobody will notice. Or, if they do, they'll ignore it for the time being, and assume he's just another ally. He makes sure he's high above the battle, making sure to keep an eye on the flyers around him- Falcon is dropping grenades and bombs further into enemy territory, and Ant-Man, while huge, couldn't move very fast, so he should be fine- as he zooms into the warzone, moving quickly and efficiently, watching as the red dot gets bigger, closer.

He feels something out of the corner of his eye, in his blind spot, and he jerks backwards at the last second, just as a giant white Pegasus flies past him, a woman on its back and a higher pitched scream of "woAH-" flying past afterwards, hanging from- from a web, Harley freezes, realizes, watching Spider-Man, watching Peter cling to the web as he gets thrown around haphazardly, hanging off of the horse, clutching onto what he knows is the infinity gauntlet, remembers from when Peter told him so all those years ago, a few months after all of this. Told him that he had it, that he should've held onto it when Carol asked for it, should've gotten the stones and used it himself, should've saved everyone himself, he mightve survived it after all but Harley had only felt fear, knowing that he wouldn't have. He shakes the memory away, and follows the swirving horse, the clinging spider, knowing it'll lead him straight to where he needs to be.

The thing was, Harley had forgotten why Peter had fallen to the ground, why Carol had gotten the chance to ask him for the gauntlet, only remembering when he hears a scream of "Look out!" Before all hell breaks loose, canons shooting down from the sky and exploding to the ground, shaking the earth beneath him.

"Shit!" He tries to fly out of the trajectory, tries to get out of the battlefield while still staying close, but his leg gets nipped by the beam, he gets thrown off balance, and then he's falling, and crashes to the ground with a loud bang that's sounds quiet compared to the booms of the canons, of the tremors of the earth he can now feel beneath his fingertips, his entire body shuttering with the ground. He groans, his body searing with pain, before his mind reboots and the panic sets in. He checks the storage area, sighing with relief when the vial is still in tact, before checking his system to see whats broken, what's working, whats still up. His back replusor is down, so his flight system is gone, but outside of that, it seems everything is still working, and he breathes out a sigh of relief. Its okay, he can still do this, he'll just- have to find his way on land, he'll just have to be more careful.

He glances around, the earth still exploding around him, hearing wails of pain from people he can't even see, dust scattering in the air and blood seeping into the dirt, his stomach churning at the sight and his ears ringing as he tries to focus, stepping forward to run into the field, to find his way to Tony just as the tracker system reappears in his field of vision, just as he sees the red dot basically overtaking the screen, just as he's grabbed and is suddenly in flight, weaving through the air in somebody's arms.

Before Harley can even struggle, he's being dropped, the two suits landing back down at the same time, and Harley turns, his eyes widening as he sees the signature red and gold, scruffed and marked and dirty from the fight, the bright blue glow of the arc reactor, and the two eye slits that disappear as his visor retracts and suddenly Harley is stumbling because oh my god, he did this, this is it, this is- he is-

"Kid?? Is that you?" Tony asks, voice full of wonder and awe, full of bewilderment and concern, his iries a little darker, softer than he remembered, his hair and beard full of gray hairs and his face full of wrinkles from smiling, laughing, crying, and he's so real, this is real, that Harley can't help the sob that bubbles out of his chest, that slips past his lips. He can hear Tony still talking to him, saying something about Harley's suit, but he doesn't even hear it, can't hear it as he stumbles forward and pulls the man into a tight hug, his body lurching forward in another silence cry, tears flowing down his pushed up cheeks harder when he feels the warmth beneath his fingertips, the smooth metal and the feeling of skin and stubble against his cheek and he's here, he's okay, he's alive. "Harley?" The man murmurs quieter, sounded so confused but also not questioning, seemingly not caring as he pulls the younger man closer, running a hand down his back and pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "Bud?"

"I'm sorry," He blurts out, and he doesn't even know why he says it, but he needs him to know, needs him to. "I'm sorry. I just-" He rubs at his eye with a free hand, burrowing his face into Tony's neck, feeling the rapid bump of a heartbeat beneath his skin and sobbing again. "I missed you so much." Its a whisper, under his breath, one he doesn't mean for Tony to hear, but its clear he does, the man stiffening up for a few seconds before untensing with a shaky breath, tugging Harley even closer.

They don't say anything else for a while, Tony clearly thinking, putting together pieces of a situation he shouldn't even know, that Harley never should have told him, but he can't care, doesn't care right now as he feels Tony move, feels his chest rise and fall with each breath, feels the heat beneath his skin, feels his jaw moving and his cheek shifting as he blinks, and breaths, and lives. Harley could stay here forever, and be happy, but he knows he can't, knows that isn't how this day should, or can, go.

"What year are you from?" The older man questions, finally breaking the silence between them as he seemingly put the puzzle together, and Harley releases a shaky exhale, shutting his eyes, longing to block out the world and live in this moment forever.

"2029," He answers anyways, honestly, and suddenly Tony snorts, Harley furrowing his eyebrows at the seemingly random sound until-

"2029? Come on, that's not a real year."

Harley bursts into chuckles, unexpectedly, and from the grin it places on Tony's face, that was the purpose of the tease. "I mean it, old man. 2029."

Tony lets out a noise similar to a squawk at the old man comment, and lightly smacks the back of his head as Harley snickers, feeling so light and warm, he missed this, he missed this feeling so much, and seemingly sensing the sadness lingering under Harleys skin, the mood darkens again, their voices quieting again as Tony whispers, "2029, wow."

"Yeah," Harley whispers back, feeling the heaviness in the air on his back, his shoulders, his lungs, almost suffocating him with its thickness.

"So you're... 24?"

"23." He corrects, as Tony finally steps back and Harleys fingers twitch to pull him back in, as Tony's hand grabs his chin lightly, a thumb rubbing his cheek in a soothing, paternal gesture, his eyes softening even more, growing shiny in the faint gray light.

"All grown up."

Harley hums in affirmation, ignoring the way the back of his eyes start burning again, his heart swelling. "I have a kid, a son." Now that he has the chance, everything just seems to be spilling out of him without filter.

Tony's eyes widen and his face glows with a pride that makes Harley's shoulders shutter again, even as his smile widens far enough to break his face. "A son, huh?"

"Yeah, me and- me and Peter adopted him a few months ago, his name is Jackson Anthony, and- and he's perfect, Tony, he's perfect, he's so small, and sweet, and he barely cries, he's like a dream." And that he's started, he can't seem to stop, spilling quickly about Jax, and about Peter, the wedding, their life and how wonderful it is, how much he loves them, but before he knows it, he's biting his tongue and freezing into place, words on the tip of his tongue that he dare not let out, he can't, his chest feeling heavy and aching as he thinks, 'God I wish you could've been there'.

Tony just smiles, tight and sad, like he knows what he's thinking, like he knows what happens, and brushes another tear off his cheek as he asks, soft and low, "Harley, why are you here? Why did you come back?" And Harley just stares at him, begging and pleading him to understand without him having to say it, and when the mans face shutters, his eyes darkening and his smile tilting into a light frown, he knows that he does. "Kid-"

"I couldn't-" He shakes his head, clenching and unclenching his hands rapidly. "I had a chance, Tony, and I had to, I have to-"

"You can't, bub." Tony murmurs, and Harley just shakes his head again, harder, firmer.

"I have to."

"You can't." He restates, holding onto Harley's arms tightly and forcing him to make eye contact, to look him in the eyes even if Harley wants to look anywhere else, wants to think of any other way, any other option than this. "This is my destiny, kid."

"It doesn't have to be, there has to be another way," Harley pleads, "Captain Marvel could survive the snap, I did the calculations, if I just get the glove to her-"

Tony just shakes his head too, looking eerily serious, sullen. "It could change too much, it could change everything, Harley-"

"So? You'd survive-"

"You have a husband, and a kid-"

"So did you!" Harley spits back, shaking off Tony's hold and glaring at him, even as he shakes, and swallows around a lump in his throat. "You had Pepper, and Morgan, and- and Peter, and me and you just- you still want to just-"

All of the fight rushes out of him, and his shoulders slump, his head held low and salt pooling at his chin, dripping to the floor. Tony takes a step forward, and carefully places a hand onto Harleys shoulder, stating calmly, accepting, "I made my choice, kid. And I don't regret it." When Harley peers up at it, face scrunched up in agony, Tony continues, soft and sad. "How can I, when I get to see this? When I know you and Peter are so happy, when I-" He swallows. "When I hope Pepper has moved on, and Morgan has got the chance to grow up with his two older brothers." He squeezes Harley's face, and gives him a smile made only for him, full of honest, open love. "How can I regret any of it, when I know all of my family is together again?"

"Without you." Harley chokes out, and Tony's smile stays, shrugs once.

"If thats the price to pay, I'll pay it. I told myself I'd do anything, anything to get you and Peter back. I knew it was worth it, worth anything, and now, this," He rubs Harleys cheek as he crumbles with another agonizing sob, "Now I know for sure. It was worth it. It was all worth it."

Harley falls into his arms again, wailing loudly into his chest, and Tony just soothes him, shushes him quietly and holds him close. "I miss you so much,"

"I know," He murmurs faintly.

"I love you so much." He sobs, and Tony just presses a harder kiss to his head, and holds it there for a few seconds, liquid dripping onto his head.

"I love you too, polpetta. More than you'll ever know."

"I don't know if I can- can lose you again."

Tony doesn't answer this time, and Harley cries harder, his entire body tremoring just like the ground did, knowing, knowing he has to back, knowing he cant change Tony's mind, but aching, his heart shattering and crumbling into pieces of dust similar to the compound surrounding them, and it takes a few more minutes, a few more moments of a hug so tight it makes his muscles whine, his bone creak, before Tony tells him quietly, melancholy.  "You gotta to back, Harls."

He squeezes the man again, nodding, knowing he's right, knowing his husband his back there in the garage waiting for him, knowing his son is in his cradle, fast asleep, knowing his life is waiting for him back home. He savors the last few seconds of holding his father, his dad in his arms, before he steps back. Tony gives him a grin, one last, big toothy smile, a complete contrast to the shine in his eyes, on his cheeks, and Harley smiles back, saying one last "I love you," and hearing it echoed in return.

"I love you too. Both of you, all of you."

He takes the vial out of the storage slot, putting into place, and glances up one last time, searing all of Tony's features into his mind, into memory, his words echoing in his head as he presses the button, whispers a goodbye, and shrinks.

The return back is much faster, Harley only getting a blink before he's back in his garage, the room a mess similar to how he left it, and the first thing he sees is Peter, his husband, the love of his life still stood in the very same place, in the doorway of the garage, his baby browns wide and teary, looking so fearful, so scared, yet so thankful that Harley returned.

"Harley?!?" He gasps, and Harley barely gives his suit time to retract before he's rushing forward and crashing into Peter, Peter already into soothing mode and whispering faint reassures, to himself or to harley he doesn't know, Harley crumbling again in his arms and sputtering out, over and over and over, "He loves you, he loves us, loves us so much." Like its the last chance he'd ever get to say it again.

Peter just holds him close, similar to the way his dad did only moments before, and Harley sinks into the warmth, vowing to live in the here and the now from now on. To live in the moment, and be there for his husband and his son, knowing that Tony was watching over them, with that same proud smile and little glint in his eyes.

[spirit-of-the-void]

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 29

Author’s notes: I’m sorry this is coming out so late, but im combating a shit laptop, shit family, and shit health on this one babes.

Chapter 29

You didn't dream for the entirety of your rest.

As before, you had no conception of time. But this time, you weren’t hovering in and out, instead lingering in a deep sleep state without straying from it. Your body needed the time to heal, to regain what it lost and repair the damage. And it had seemingly gotten its chance. There was no doubt that Nero had kept to his word, safety being found and allowing you to finally begin the process of gaining back your strength. Seconds, minutes, or days could have passed beyond your knowledge, but it scarcely mattered. Oblivion was a welcome thing after all the pain, allowing you to escape from thinking about the poet and the cold, grey eyes of his fully formed counterpart again.

The Void was strangely quiet after how vocal it had been through the few days of travel. The whispers had gone quiet, no longer clattering around your skull and saying things that only added to the pain. That wasn’t to say that the Void was gone, your power was still swirling in your gut as it always did. Now calm, regaining energy again and no longer fighting you. After all, the mission was done, what more did it have to sense? You weren’t sure you could ever accept the power of the Foresight again after all it had done to hurt you. Like it was being controlled directly by the Deity’s hands, like puppet strings.

That was your first thought upon awakening, only this time you gradually pulled yourself out of the pool of sleep bit by bit. You woke up to significantly less bodily pain, the rippling agony now dulled to aching all through your limbs. Like you had spread yourself way too thin, which was the truth. You registered the smells of tobacco and metal, knowing in an instant just where you were. It was punctuated by the rumbling engine, your body jostled slightly whenever Nico had to swerve to avoid something on the road. It then occurred to you that your head was resting on someone’s lap, a hand rhythmically stroking your hair and cheeks.

Warm. You felt secure for once since V left you, like you were being protected. The familiars only added to the sensation, their energies wrapping around your mind in an attempt to cushion the reality of the situation a bit. They were trying so hard to help you, it almost made you want to cry. They could only do so much once the memories and emotions started coming back, your heart aching far more than your body was. V’s face was fresh in your mind, that final kiss you shared replaying over and over like a film. Why would he bother kissing you if it didn’t matter to him? Why do any of the things he did if there wasn’t emotion involved?

But...did those things matter? V was gone, Vergil was here in his place. And there seemed to be no trace of the poet in him at all save for Vergil remembering the nickname V called you. But the love, the affection...that was long since departed.

You kept your eyes closed for the time being, ears registering quiet conversation between everything in the van. It was your only distraction, the only thing keeping you from falling back into the despairing thoughts.

“Go the fuck to sleep,” Nico was hissing, her voice filled with annoyance as a light whap traveled through the van--she had whacked someone, “Kyrie is gonna murder us both once she figures out how many energy drinks your dumb ass has sucked down in the past week…!”

You heard the sound of a can being crushed, tossed to a small trash bin you knew to be tucked behind Nico’s driver seat. There was a recollection of Nero sitting at a dining room table, surrounded by empty cans of red bull and the words “dead weight” written on his forehead. That was the day you woke up from your punishment, getting drunk with the girls and sharing a bed with V, his body curled behind yours and...and…

Stop thinking about him.

The familiars seemed to echo the sentiment, feeling your distress and sorrow and growing restless. You felt bad--your emotions and traumas were now their burden too, which you wished wasn’t the case.

“She won’t figure out if you keep your mouth shut,” Nero huffed in reply, pulling you back into reality once more, “Besides. If you pull an all nighter I pull an all nighter.”

“She isn’t stupid, psycho!” Nico groaned in complete, unbridled annoyance, “All it’s gonna take is one look in the fridge and seeing no more energy drinks to tell her just how many was taken.”

Something about their sibling-like banter made you fight a smile, no matter how small that smile would be. It was...relaxing, to hear things so normal in the face of all the absurdities. You preferred it over the silence, their strange worry over Kyrie being upset about the energy drinks so trivial compared to a god damn demon tree. And Nico was right--Nero had consumed for more drinks that could ever been considered healthy. How he hadn’t collapsed with a heart attack by now was a straight up mystery.

You finally allowed yourself to slowly blink open your eyes, staring up at the ceiling of the van in a sort of daze. The vehicle was dark with night, the occasional street light flitting through the windows and casting dancing patterns on the interior. It was easy to guess that you were on the couch, the leather pressed to the bare areas of your legs a little too warmly in cramped space. But you didn’t mind, it was welcome compared to the thorough cold the Void had left within you. After inhaling a deep, measured breath, you decided that your lungs felt normal enough that you didn’t want to go back to sleep again.

It became apparent who was stroking your hair as soon as you tilted your head back. Lady’s beautiful face was staring down at you, a small gasp leaving her when she saw you now looking right back. She looked a bit tired as well, you had to wonder if she had slept at all since you saw her last. How long had you been out? When had Nero made it to the van?

“Look who’s finally awake,” Lady breathed, smiling softly down at you and putting a hand to your forehead, “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

You blinked your eyes a few times, savoring the warmth of her skin on your own as you tried to form a reply to her question.

“Physically?” You whispered softly, voice holding several layers of sorrow in it as you tried to swallow it back, “Or mentally?”

Lady gave you a knowing look, starting to stroke your hair again with a soothing, gentle touch. She felt closer to a mother than anything you had felt before--even amongst the brief wisps of memory you couldn’t recall your own mother ever doing something like this for you. Lady was staring down at you with soft concern and worry, knowing full well just how awful you would be feeling if she had any indication of what happened in the tree. And if Nero was here...she definitely did.

“Let’s start with physically,” She murmured, multi-colored eyes steadily meeting yours, “You were in bad shape when Nero brought you back. How do you feel now?”

You slowly lifted an arm, feeling a soreness in your muscles as you flexed your fingers. You belatedly realized that the gauntlet you wore before was now gone. Someone must have pulled it off of you. To be completely honest, you were further along now than you thought, that was unless you had slept for over a day. Which was doubtful.

“I…” You mumbled, slowly putting your hand back down again as you replied, “I’ve...been better. But...I’m not as bad as I thought I’d be. The pain is mostly gone, just...sore.”

Lady nodded, helping you slowly sit up and bracing you with a hand to your back. You fought a groan, each muscle in your body aching painfully and straining with just that motion. Okay, maybe you weren’t as well off as you thought.

“Griffon came out at some point and told us you needed something to help boost you,” Lady replied, rubbing slow circles on your back, “Nico had something we could inject you with, it seemed to help a bit.”

That made sense at the very least.

You looked to the side, seeing Trish staring at you from the seat across from the couch right as the other two up front noticed you awake over their bantering. She didn’t look tired like the others, but maybe that was because she wasn’t human.

“Holy shit she’s awake!” Nico gasped from up front, making you glance at her next as her head bounced between looking at you and looking at the road. She looked tired and frazzled, more so than normal, “Howdy sugar! Welcome back to the land of the livin’!”

You managed to muster an exhausted smile for her, noting the relief in her tone as you replied softly, “How...long was I out for…?”

“All night,” Nero replied before the mechanic could, peeking his white-haired head around from the passenger side and holding a new can of sugary caffeine, “We got back around seven and it’s about to hit five in the morning now.”

A whole nights rest...it felt strange to think about it. Even resting with V you slept in short bursts broken by nightmares, not having a truly restful sleep in a long time outside of the forced coma the Void caused. Those times when you’re being erased. Thinking about that was a mistake, one that sent a shiver down your spine and a sickly feeling in your stomach. Had all those things really happened? Meeting and traveling with V, losing him, the Deity forcing you to watch then trying to force you back to the Void? They felt so strange, your God’s actions completely foreign and odd to you after serving him for so many years.

Why? Why had he done such a thing? The Deity had given you the rune to aid in the mission, only to force you to watch V get absorbed back into Vergil and unable to do anything about it. And then there was trying to take you back to the Void itself--why had he waited until you were there with Dante and the others? There was a significant span of time where you had traveled up the Qliphoth alone to get there, perfect opportunity to snatch you back with little to no resistance. With how weak you had been, it would have been a cake walk. But the Deity had instead chosen to wait until you were among allies.

But...why? It didn’t make sense. Just like how everything with V didn’t seem to make sense either.

Lady seemed to sense your growing distress, her arms wrapping around you from behind and her chin resting on your shoulder. The embrace felt warm, startling you a bit out of the downward spiraling thoughts.

“It’ll be okay,” She said softly, giving you a light squeeze in her attempt to soothe you, “Just breathe for now, we’re all here with you.”

You felt your eyes drift downward, threatening to burn with more tears as you gripped the bottom half of your blouse with tight fingers. You could feel everyone in the van staring at you with varying levels of concern, even Trish who wasn’t as close as the others were. It felt both strange and soothing to have so many people now worrying about your well-being.

“Don’t worry, toots,” Griffon’s gruff tone added to the show of support, his consciousness rousing from the corners of your head as he squawked, “Just focus on getting better for now. You feel like you got hit by a fuckin’ truck. Not ideal.”

“...I know.” You whispered, voice holding every terrible thing you were feeling in that moment as you replied to them both at once. You knew that thinking about it wouldn’t help anything in that moment, not with everything so fresh. It was only serving to keep you down, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Focus on the good things you had, right? There was nothing more to be done, everything wasn’t for naught. Nero, Nico, Lady, and Trish were here. They all cared about you, they wanted to help and were trying their best. You had the familiars now, they were a part of you and a constant, driving force keeping you from falling too deep into that pit of despair. Considering how hard things had been, and all the aching agony you had been through...you didn’t come out the other side alone and afraid like before, all those other missions where you had been abandoned. Their support was so warm, a fresh change of pace that made your heart ache in a way that wasn’t painful.

But...it didn’t take away the grief that came from losing the man you loved. That you doubted would ever leave you.

The room fell quiet for a moment while you processed your thoughts, trying to find the will to pull yourself back together. So used to being the one to hold things in, keeping your head held high to support others who needed it. But for once...the one who needed it was you. And the others seemed ready to take up that torch.

“Do you like pancakes?” Nero asked suddenly, breaking the silence and making you blink in surprise.

The question was so normal, so out of place that it derailed your train of thought completely for a second. Pancakes?

“Y...yeah…” You replied with a soft stammer, turning to meet his gaze with a confused one of your own, “I suppose I do.”

That seemed to please him, a smirk quirking up his lips as he took a deep chug from a can of energy drink. You half wondered how many he had consumed in the evening alone, it was worrying for his health. And like before, he was bound to crash at some point.

“Fan-fuckin-tastic,” He said after swallowing, turning his gaze to Nico’s face as he added, “Jack’s opens at what, five thirty? Willin’ to bet it won’t be packed being this close to Redgrave.”

Jack’s? The way this conversation had gone confused you, that was for certain, but it seemed to cheer both Nero and Nico up considerably. Your stomach growled lightly at mention of food despite how uneasy you felt upon waking--You hadn’t eaten since V was with you last, and that time seemed so far away. Not to mention snacking on the occasional granola bar and fruit during the day hadn’t done nearly as much for you as you thought it would.

You also realized his mentioned it being outside of Redgrave, which made you look out the window. Eyes blinking, seeing buildings now that weren’t broken and falling to pieces. How bizarre to finally see some semblance of normalcy after days of being around what equated to be the apocalypse. Why didn’t you realize sooner that the tree’s reach only extended so far? This was out of the city, but judging by the barricades and sealed doors this area had been evacuated on the off chance that the roots came out further.

“We’ve already left Redgrave?” you said softly, eyes watching as streetlight after streetlight passed by, the sky already hinting at the sunrise, “But...Where is Dante and…”

For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to say Vergil’s name. Nor could you shake the worry that came for his well being. How pathetic, that even after everything he did to you that the sensation of wanting him to be safe wouldn’t leave?

You want to believe that V exists as a part of him, somehow.

It was true. You knew what V had said, the vulnerabilities he had shared and the aching need for affection he had. If that was a part of Vergil, even small...What were you supposed to do? There would never be a chance of the surly male seeking you for anything, even if he shared V’s memories. It was madness. You had to accept that, to finally move past the aching desire to seek out the part of him you had fallen for. Because in reality, it would never be the same--You didn’t fall in love with Vergil, you fell for V. The poet, the one with his lilting voice reading from his book and that determination driving him forward.

V was gone. No part of that man remained.

Right?

“Dante and Vergil stayed behind,” Nero said with an annoyed sigh, turning his gaze away to glare through the windshield. You saw his left hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white as he added through gritted teeth, “Goddamn idiots. They went to hell to cut down the tree, and seal the portal it left behind.”

“Thus sealing them in hell.” Trish added, the first she had spoken since you woke up. You met her steady gaze, feeling a bit wary considering that you now knew exactly what type of information she had withheld from you. She knew what V was, knew what was to happen to him. But...you didn’t feel angry with her--What had happened was your own carelessness, not hers.

I don’t blame you.

But right now...that wasn’t what should be focused on. They had both just told you Dante and Vergil would be sealing themselves in hell, thus implying that they would be trapped. Judging by the furious look they both wore, the situation had definitely become more dire. You started feeling numb as the realization sunk in, mind reeling now that it became all too clear that you may never get the chance to see Vergil ever again. So learning anything more about him, finding out the truth you so desperately ached for...it was never going to happen.

There would be no closure. None at all.

“They won’t ever be coming back?” You whispered, voice and expression mimicking the numbness settling inside. You didn’t know what to do, how to feel. This didn’t feel good, it wasn’t a relief to know Vergil would not be back in your life to cause more pain.

It shouldn’t have hurt this badly to know that.

Lady squeezed you softly again, tucking your head against her neck as she replied soothingly, “It’s not a guarantee. We just have to wait for now, and see what Dante does. He’s gotten out of worse scenarios.”

You wanted to believe that, wanted to think there was some way of this problem being resolved. But it was hard to find hope for anything. You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts together and stifle the conflicted emotions rolling through your head. Why did you feel this way? Why wouldn’t you just let go, try to move on and clamp down on all the conflicted feelings? Vergil was not the same man you had fallen for, he wasn’t even close. He didn’t care about you, didn’t love you, couldn’t even spare you more than a passing glance and some hurt.

But...you couldn’t let it go.

“Don’t worry about them,” Nero huffed, trying to change the subject as your grew to look more and more crestfallen. He turned around, offering you a comforting half-smile as added, “We’re gonna stop for some food, then haul our asses to Devil May Cry to drop off Lady and Trish.”

You looked at the woman behind you, feeling a little disappointed as you asked, “You’re leaving?”

She smiled softly at you, looking a little sad too as she pressed her head to the side of yours.

“We have to keep the business up and running with Dante gone,” She replied with a sigh, giving you a firm squeeze and kissing your temple in a cute, over-exaggerated way, “Don’t worry. I’ll be stopping by Fortuna to see you first chance I get.”

Fortuna? You blinked, realizing right away that must be where Kyrie and Nero lived. You didn’t know much about the location other than the Order of the Sword stories the devil hunter had mentioned. An island off the coast, where you would be staying with the others now and helping out with the orphanage. You felt a bit nervous, not used to having a place to go, hoping that Kyrie would at least like you when she met you. Her opinion was so important, you wanted to be useful to all of them to make up for causing so many problems.

Regardless, you tried to bite down on the anxiety and let things come as they were supposed to.

You could tell that the others were trying so hard, doing their very best to keep you distracted from the pain. They took you to a little diner right around where the large buildings of the city started turning into a small town, Jack’s diner. It was a quaint little place, filled with an old fashioned vibe that made you feel oddly relaxed. Just as Nero said, the old man still kept the little restaurant open despite the danger level. There were few to no customers, but that was preferred considering the state your group was in. You all definitely looked like you just got back from fighting demons, not that the owner minded.

Nico and Nero kept the chatter up through the meal, Nico with an arm slung over your shoulder and Nero sitting across from you both with Trish. Lady managed to squeeze into the booth on your other side, seeming content to just watch and listen while everyone conversed. You didn’t really have the energy to keep up with it all, but Nico wasn’t letting you sit by quietly. They told you about the small group of kids at the orphanage, each of their names and personalities so you would be at least somewhat equipped for meeting them. Both seemed to really care about the children, which was very sweet. You watched Nero carefully while they all talked, noticing his level of exhaustion and realizing fairly quickly he was trying to distract himself too.

The past few days had been just as unkind to him.

You entered a strange, dazed state as the day went on, letting the flow take you with it. The pancakes served at Jack’s were delicious to be sure, your body not realizing how hungry it was until you were eating. You ate the whole plate, feeling a bit better once something solid was on your stomach. Normal. Nero was impressed you could knock back a five stack so quickly, and Nico was the encouraging force urging you to chug a second cup of orange juice in a contest with her. It felt juvenile, fun in a way. There was camaraderie in the air and it lightened the weight on your shoulders enough to let you smile a bit.

It was just too bad that you wished V was there sharing in these moments with you.

As much as they distracted you, that heavy sorrow remained weighing you down. Every moment where happiness tried to peek through, it felt hollow without him there. Smirking lightly, watching the group talk and laugh and finding enjoyment in it. Or had he? Was that smile just a front? You couldn’t be sure, and thinking of it only made things worse.

Nero and Trish ended up splitting the bill, the blond haired woman rolling her eyes when Nero tried to refuse her money. She practically shoved it in his face, standing up from the booth and sauntering out to the van again. You exchanged a glance with Lady, who only smiled and shrugged as she pulled you out of the booth as well. You kept some leftover bacon and sausage in a little box to give to Shadow and Griffon later, because lord knew you couldn’t bring two demons out in public.

From there on out...all that was left to drop off the two women before heading to Fortuna.

You noticed upon traveling further away from the city, seeing normal society made you feel a bit odd. People walked along the sidewalks, on their way to early morning destinations. Their lives seemed so normal in comparison, human and peaceful. You couldn’t remember a time before the Void, before selling your soul. Finding that sense of normalcy seemed so impossible.

But...you tried.

Griffon and Shadow came out once the van set off again, Trish eyeing the mighty panther with wary eyes until it leapt up on the couch with your, draping themself across your lap like an overgrown cat. Lady was sitting next to you, so she took a few tentative pats at Shadow’s fur. They were on their best behavior, seeming to like the attention.

“Can’t believe everyone is gettin’ in on this now,” Griffon huffed from his perch on the back of the couch, his strange beak snapping by your ear in that familiar manner, “You’re gonna make the big killin’ machine soft at this rate.”

You let out a little  hum, handing him some food that he eagerly snatched and gobbled down.

“They’re having fun,” Your tone was soft, adoration in your eyes as you met Shadow’s slow, blinking gaze, “And that’s what matters.”

Nero yawned from the front seat, his feet kicked up on the dashboard and chair partway reclined. You could tell the energy drinks were wearing off, that much was pretty certain as he grumbled, “The kids are gonna love the cat, that’s for sure. Maybe I should warn Kyrie beforehand?”

Nico snickered, still somehow wide awake despite not sleeping at all along her drive, “Nah, let it be a surprise. That along with your new baby arm.” Her brows waggled with her words, mischievous eyes darting back to the arm in question. That was another thing explained to you, how accessing his new Devil Trigger form healed back a bright, shiny new limb. You learned not to ask questions in regards to things like that.

“Maybe I could soften it?” Nero continued to mumble, words sounding very tired indeed, “Tell her I’m bringing home pets?”

“I’m down. I’ll back you up, psycho.”

All you could muster was a single shake of your head at their antics, feeling a bit bad for Kyrie in regards to all of this. You hoped to god you weren’t imposing or causing them trouble, the very idea made your energy swirl nervously in your gut.

Griffon sensed it, nosing the side of your face again and saying gruffly in your ear, “Shut off your brain for a few hours at least, toots. You bein’ all sad makes my feathers ache.”

You jolted, immediately trying to swallow down those thoughts as guilt bit at you next. You kept forgetting Griffon and the other familiars were a part of you now, such things affected them.

“S...sorry…” You whispered in reply, focusing as hard as you could to not think about all the bad things.

Griffon let out a soft squawk of realization once it occurred to him that saying such a thing did not help at all.

“Fuck, that’s not what I meant,” He sighed, sounding a bit awkward as he shuffled closer, laying his head on your shoulder, “Just...tryin’ to help you not focus on all that garbage left over. Shit will improve, we all know that, right? Right.”

You smiled at his brisk, hurried way of speaking. Like he was trying to will you into feeling better with energy alone. It wasn’t nearly that easy, but his effort did make you feel a bit better in a strange way. Shadow was also trying their best, purring loudly and reaching a paw up to pat your face with it. Being this close to the familiars with no barriers now was so relaxing, putting your aching heart slightly more to ease. It was just...hard, though, considering who they were connected to before.

You miss him. And no matter what you do, that will not fade.

The only reason you hadn’t collapsed back into sorrow and despair again was the group surrounding you with support. You didn’t want to burden them with your pain, crying around them would only serve to make everyone just as sad as you were. So you managed to bite it back, holding it in until you started to feel numb from it. Doing so surely wasn’t healthy for your mind, but...there seemed to be no other choice. You refused to burden them when they were trying this hard, ready to keep the tears and pain at bay for days until needed. But even then...did you even have the right to cry?

It was you who caused this.  You and no one else.

“Toots...” Griffon began in a warning tone, seeing where your thoughts were going and not liking them at all. But he didn’t get the chance to continue.

“We’re here.” Nico announced, the van coming to a skidding halt and drawing you out of your dull way of thinking. You didn’t realize how much time had passed while you were drifting in and out of thought--or maybe the mechanic was just driving fast. The latter seemed heavily likely.

You looked out the window to see a tall, brick-laden building. Above the doors was a sign just like the one on the van, only larger and glowing with red instead of that neon blue. This had to be the main Devil May Cry building, there was certainly no mistaking that. It still felt so strange to think a man like Dante actually ran a business--he was a certified mess of a man at best.

You blinked, turning to look at Lady and Trish as they both stood, Lady yawning lightly and stretching up her arms. The dark-haired devil hunter looked tired, you felt awful that she had stayed up all night to wait for you to wake up. But...there was also a part of you that desperately didn’t want her to leave, her support being such a needed thing that you almost started to cry there and then.

But you held it back.

I can’t keep being selfish.

“Thanks for the ride, Nico,” Trish said to the mechanic up front, looking between her and Nero, “I’ll call you if Dante shows up any time soon. If you need us we’re going to be here.”

Nero gave her a small salute with his fingers, seeming pretty tired as he replied, “Sure thing. Thanks for helpin’ out, it was a blast.” There was definitely sarcasm lacing his tone there at the end.

Trish scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning to the van door. You saw her pause, standing by Lady and watching you both as the woman pulled you into a firm hug. The motherly embrace Lady brought with her was definitely making it hard for you not to cry, that was for certain. You clung to her for a moment, pressing your face to her shoulder and letting out a slow breath. She had done a lot to help you mentally through the past few days, you wish that you could spend more time with her. But there was work to be done, and a mess to clean up after what Vergil did. You knew your place.

“I promise I’ll visit you in Fortuna soon,” Lady said firmly, squeezing you tightly to her almost to the point of it being too much. She skewered Griffon and Shadow with a glare, tone firm as she told them, “Keep her safe or you answer to me.”

Griffon let out a snort, shaking out his feathers as he replied in a standoffish tone, “You don’t have to tell us that…!”

Lady huffed, leaning back from you and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes, managing to muster a smile for her before she had to leave. You wanted her to think you would be okay, wanted to be as strong as she thought you were. And all you could do was try.

“Everything will be okay,” She said softly, meeting your sad eyes with steady ones of her own. You took a moment to take in just how pretty her different colored irises looked, one red and one green, “I know you can make it through what happened...there is still happiness for you to find beyond what happened with V.”

Hearing her say the poet’s name made you flinch, like the reality of it had hit you in the face. She knew exactly what you had been feeling, that uncertainty and pain a lot more obvious than you anticipated. Or maybe...Lady was just good at reading others. You lowered your gaze, smiling sadly as you tried to push back another wave of that stubborn, heavy emotion that threatened to drown you again. You were grateful to have a person like Lady in your life, she was a big part of the force holding the broken pieces of you together.

“I know,” You replied softly, feeling several sets of eyes watching you but not finding the will to care. You mustered up another fake, brighter smile, looking back up at Lady and adding, “I’ll see you when you come visit. Thank you for all you’ve done for me, Lady.”

The older woman smiled, cupping your cheeks once before releasing you entirely. She turned, exchanging a brief look with Trish before pushing open the van door. Seeing her go was...incredibly hard, but necessary. You couldn’t rely on others forever, that was for certain. Trish paused for another moment, looking at you again with her sharp eyes and meeting your gaze. What was she thinking about while making a face like that, dancing on the border of concern and exasperation? Of all the people in the van, she was by far the hardest to get a read on. There was definitely an emotion there, but one you could not identify.

When she opened her mouth, you were pretty surprised when what came out was an apology.

“...Forgive me for not telling you the information I knew,” She said hesitantly, making you realize that flicker of emotion was probably guilt, “When Lady comes by for a visit I’ll join her--I owe you one.”

You blinked, unsure of what to say in response to her statement. In your opinion, there wasn’t a thing she owed you. It wasn’t like she had been your friend when V told her those things, nor were you entitled to her knowledge. These were things you could have discovered on your own, but you didn’t even try. And for that...you took that blame on yourself. Never on her, that was not her burden to bear.

“...It’s not your fault,” You offered her a small, sad smile, shaking your head lightly as you replied, “You don’t owe me anything. But still come by and visit, I would like to know more about you.”

That made the woman look visibly surprised, her eyes flickering back to your face to read your expression. You saw her frown, click her tongue and shake her head lightly, like your words were somehow exasperating.

“You’re too nice for your own good,” She said in a low tone, her eyes sharp as she turned away to follow Lady out of the van, “Take care, Y/N.”

The door shut behind her before you could think of a reply, the sound loud in the small space. You stood there for a moment, watching through the van’s window as the women spared a few glances back at the mobile home, Lady giving a small wave. Your mind ached with the desire to call out to them both, begging them to stay when you so desperately needed them. But...that wasn’t your place to ask.

They then pushed open the doors of Devil May Cry, walking inside and letting them swing shut behind them. Your smile eventually dropped after they were no longer in sight, body slumping onto the couch again with a light sigh. To say you were disparaged was an understatement, mood dropping considerably now that you were without the older woman keeping you steady.

Shadow could sense it, scooting closer to you and pressing her soft toe beans to your bare thigh. It made you look up, realizing that Nico and Nero were both looking back at you with varying levels of concern.

“You holdin’ up okay?” Nero asked, brow furrowed and lips pursed lightly.

You paused, trying to gather yourself a little bit as you picked up one of Shadow’s paws, pressing its soft texture to your face. No longer alone, you reminded yourself. Even with Lady no longer there for the time being, there were more than enough people here with you offering what they could to make you feel better.

And that...was enough.

“I’m...okay,” You replied after a moment, your voice sounding steadier than you thought it would, “Not the best, but...I’ll be okay.”

You must. There is no other choice.

That made Nico smirk, seeming satisfied with your answer and the look you wore on your face. She turned back to the wheel, stretching her arms above her head until the joints popped.

“Alright!” She hollered, her energy seeming in such a stark contrast to how beat Nero looked, “Let’s head home! If we’re lucky we can catch the last ferry before five o’clock!”

Nero winced at her overly loud voice, waving his left hand at her as he complained, “Jeez, tone it down. At this rate, I’ll never be able to sneak in a nap before we see Kyrie.”

You tuned out the argument before it could start, letting out a quiet sigh and flopping down on the couch again. Exhaustion was making a guest appearance again, tap dancing on stage with grief and regret. Shadow settled along your form, resting their mighty head on your chest and opening their jaws in a huge yawn. You got an eyeful of sharp teeth, but paid little mind to it as you put your gaze to the ceiling.

The van was beginning to move once more, Nico putting the pedal to the metal in an attempt to reach the ferry before it set off in the afternoon. You felt a little...anxious about going to Fortuna. There were so many people there that would be met, most of them children. If the kids didn’t like you, would you be able to stay?

It felt like such a silly thing to be worried about.

Griffon settled on the top of the couch, listening to your racing thoughts as the hours ticked by in the drive. Nico started chatting with you once Nero finally crashed from all the caffeine, but the conversation ranged between asking about your powers to the kind of things you liked. You couldn’t remember the last time someone asked your favorite color or animal, but Nico asked it. She carefully kept away from asking about your Deity, or V for that matter. Probably not wanting to dredge up bad emotions when you were already in a struggle to stay stable. Meanwhile, you decided your favorite animal was a cat, a response that made Griffon snort in mock annoyance. And you learned Nico was partial to dogs.

The other part of your time was spent looking out the windows while Nico’s jukebox played, watching the beautiful landscape and changing scenery. The further you got from Redgrave, the more normal and lively things seemed to become. Rivers were passed over, more buildings and homes lining normal streets and shops peppered in between. The sun moved across the sky as the day went on, changing the world’s colors and casting beautiful, elaborate patterns all over. You tried to focus on those things over anything else, taking up repetitive tasks to distract your mind. Counting street-lamps, playing I spy with Griffon and Nico.

It had already started reaching into the afternoon when Nero woke back up, jolting when Nico hit a particularly large pothole in the road. Had she hit that on purpose? Probably. And judging by her little smirk? Definitely. Nero scowled, looking around with a red mark on one cheek from leaning his hand on it. That was around the time that you started counting the teeth in Shadow’s mouth, ignoring Griffon’s taunts and jibes about your inane, silly tasks. Nero was definitely not feeling too hot after sleeping off all that caffeine, that was for sure. He looked closer to having a hangover than anything else.

Regardless.

That was the point that you sat up, noticing the taste of salt water in the air coming from Nico’s window. You turned, sucking in a breath at the sight of the ocean peeking over the horizon. It was certainly beautiful, glinting with the light of the sun getting lower and lower in the sky. It shimmered in an ethereal way, like it was covered in diamonds. You were certain you had seen an ocean at least once in your travels, but...somehow this was far more lovely than ones you had seen before. Your gaze would not move from it even as it drew closer, showing beaches dotted with human beings lounging and relaxing. It all looked so peaceful, quiet.

Nico eventually pulled into what looked to be a long dock, the elusive ferry waiting at the end and calling for the last to board. It all felt so whimsical, like the things you would see in movies--seagulls peppered the docks, soaring over all the boats in port swaying on the waves. Nico honked her horn, alerting an older-looking man who was about to close the gate in front of the waiting ship. He seemed to recognize the mechanic in an instant, shaking his head but waving a hand to allow them through. Thank goodness for that at the very least--you weren’t sure if you could handle being in the van again overnight.

Nico pulled onto the ramp leading onto the ferry, parking her van next to what appeared to be one other car--there weren’t a lot of people heading to Fortuna, it would seem. It made sense, Nico explained earlier that up until recent years the secluded city had been closed to the public, only opening their doors after rebuilding from the Order of the Sword disaster. Nero and a few others were working to get the city more open to outside visitors, to changing and accepting new technology and advancements. It was a slow process, but it was sure to increase the city’s economy bit by bit.

It was another hour from then on out. The three of you left the van while the ferry took you over the ocean, swaying and rocking on the waves. It was in these moments you tried to find your peace a bit more, staring out at the water as the salty breeze sent your hair swaying. The ocean reminded you of the Deity, there in his Void with the lonely whales. You wondered what he could possibly be thinking after all that had happened, if he knew how much his actions had affected you. All while this happened Nico kept up her conversations, leaning close to you and leaning back on the railing. You appreciate her effort, she was most certainly keeping your brain from bouncing back to the terrible thoughts.

“You’re gonna love the City,” She told you, pulling out a cigarette to light it and puffing smoke in the breeze away from you. Careful not to let you inhale it as well, “The people have sticks up their asses, but it ain’t like it’s their fault. It’s gettin’ better.”

Nero grunted at her words, leaning on the railing on your other side and squinting at the rolling waves in the distance, “They’re gonna be wary when some crazy woman comes bangin’ on their doors askin’ about the Order like you did.”

“Worked with y’all, didn’t it?” Nico sounded smug.

That earned her a scoff, the boy narrowing his eyes on her as he turned his head, “Yeah, just ‘cause Kyrie is nice.”

You smiled softly again, leaning back so Nico could shove Nero’s shoulder lightly. They really did act like siblings, which was nice in your opinion. It was obvious they cared underneath all the silly arguments.

“I’m eager to meet Kyrie,” You told Nero, a hint of nervousness in your tone now as you admitted, “You guys have talked her up so much, I hope I make a good first impression.”

Nico snorted, waving your concerns away and placing her free hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry your pretty little head,” She said lightly, smirking as she took another long drag from her cigarette, “Kyrie is a doll and she likes everyone. Must be how a delinquent like Nero managed to snag her.”

Part of you expected Nero to protest that, since it came out in such a teasing tone. But he merely shrugged, shaking his head as he replied in a soft tone, “Ya got me there.”

There was an underlying hint of adoration in his voice, his expression always going soft at mention of his lady love. It was cute, and you definitely wanted to know what lead to them being together--but you could see the good in Nero behind all the bold and brash attitude he had. There was kindness, passion, the need to protect the people he cared about and a drive to work hard. Nero was a good kid, so he deserved the best. And it seemed like Kyrie was that and then some.

But...it still didn’t stop you from feeling nervous, even as the City appeared in the distance. Fortuna certainly was beautiful, the architecture looking old and elegant, with sweeping towers and stone lined walls. You stared in awe at it all, leaning over the railing and watching the waves crash up on the coast. It looked like the craggly rocks turned into a beach on the one side, sweeping around and disappearing as the island extended outwards. You couldn’t remember the last time you had sank your toes into some sand, or sunbathed.

“Wow…” You breathed, voice carried on the wind as it rushed past.

Nico chuckled, patting you on the shoulder and tugging you back toward the van, “Told ya! Come on now, let’s get ready to head out.”

It took a few minutes for the ferry to dock itself in Fortuna, giving you a chance to peek at a cobblestone path leading through to a town square. You were distracted in that moment by the sight of merchants, a market just starting to shut down after a day of selling and trading. People walked the street in hoods and cloaks, looking like they were playing a part in a fairy tale. Not that there wasn’t the occasion, normally dressed person dotted in between. It was all very...strange. You continued to stare even as the van started moving, peeling off from the boat and starting down the street. Everyone seemed used to the vehicle by now, bowing their heads and politely moving past as Nico drove along.

That nervousness came back, mingling with the sadness also starting to creep its way in. This seemed like the kind of place V would enjoy, there was no doubt. Poetry was a good word to describe everything, this secluded city of beauty and culture recovering from years of manipulation from a religious group. You could almost imagine the poet there next to you, reading from his book a line to describe the scenery in his warm, honeyed voice.

Your hand slid up to your blouse, squeezing the fabric between your fingers. You needed to stop thinking about him, you needed to stop this cycle before it got worse. But how difficult a task, when your eyes saw him in everything?

This hurts.

But you bit your tongue as you leaned on the couch, watching the buildings roll by and trying to keep yourself distracted. It was hard, too hard. Your journey was seemingly coming to an end, and it was stirring up the emotions that kept worming their way back into your subconscious. Heartbreak was a strange, fickle thing. Still fresh and new in such a capacity. You had never lost a love before, not in any memories you had or seemingly in the remaining traces. To experience romance in a week, to fall so hard your legs crumpled beneath you and to go through losing that love just as quick...why wasn’t the ache leaving you? Was this normal? Logic said that this suffering was strange for how long you knew V, but…

It felt like it was right. All of him had, even until the end.

It was on that thought that Nico finally turned a corner, hugging a road on the coast that lead to a back street lined with more buildings and no markets. You blinked, seeing a sign above a doorway that said “Fortuna Orphanage.” Simplistic, but you doubted an island of this size had many kids without homes. Despite the small size, there looked to be another side building connected to the orphanage, this one shaped differently and more resembling a house. There were wide, open windows with flower boxes on the sills growing herbs and various other plants. It was the garage door on that side that Nico went for, honking her horn loudly as the metal cranked open to let the vehicle inside.

Nervous. You felt nervous.

Nero let out a relieved sigh, dragging himself out of the passenger seat as the van’s engine cut off. You exchanged a glance with him, the boy not missing the worry at all as you hesitated on the couch. This was definitely a bit overwhelming after everything that had happened, your brain scrambling to remember how to introduce yourself to people, how to act around children, how to...exist. You summoned the familiars back before they could comment on the thought process, feeling Griffon’s annoyance and feeling bad. But there was not much else you could do.

You didn’t want to make matters worse.

“C’mon kid,” Nero said encouragingly, patting your shoulder before Nico took one of your hands and dragged you up, “No need to look so scared. Told ya everything was gonna be fine, didn’t I?”

You hesitated, but nodded in response. Nico grinned at you, seemed excited as she threaded her fingers with yours and tugged you after the boy. You realized this was the first time someone other than V had held your hand, and it felt...different. Still loving, still kind, but with no romance compared to the elegant fingers of the poet. It was a comfort, one that you needed as you hopped onto the garage floor, eyeing your surroundings and trying to calm your racing heart.

You noticed Nero quickly pulling down his sleeve to hide his new arm and carefully keeping his fingers hidden. You smiled, he looked pretty eager himself all things considered. Like he was about to give his wife a present.

Nero had no sooner opened the garage door into what looked to be a kitchen when the sound of scurrying little feet came barreling from the other door in the room. Like children running down the stairs. You blinked, then a second later the door burst open, revealing four kids as they ran into the kitchen and leapt onto Nero before he could react. Squeals and screams of delight echoed through the space, making you fight a smile as the white-haired boy pretended to stumble under the weight of them all and fall to the floor.

“Nero is home!”

“Hi Nero!”

“Welcome back!”

One of the kids was still very young, thumb in his mouth as he hung onto Nero’s coat with his other hand. There was three boys and one girl, ranging in ages between three to ten. They seemed so preoccupied with Nero, they didn’t see you standing in the doorway with Nico at all. All in all, they were all very cute, your lips smiling despite how nervous you felt as you saw the devil hunter grin, wrangling one kid under each arm and having another hang onto his leg like he was  a jungle gym. You could tell right away how much he cared about them, and how much they adored him in turn. Like a happy little family.

So engrossed in the display of affection, you didn’t notice the beautiful, auburn haired woman standing in the doorway. It wasn’t until she spoke, her voice soft and relieved as she too took in her fiance greeting all the kids.

“Welcome home.” She said with a loving smile, her eyes staring at adoration when you and the other two turned to look at her. Whatever you were expecting, you weren’t sure if it was close. Kyrie was a gorgeous woman, in a way that was so unbelievably soft and delicate looking. Her eyes were so kind, her smile very warm. You felt your heart speed up for a second, feeling even more nervous now that you were seeing her in person--she looked like an angel, and you would hate to not have her approval. But...you doubted this woman had a mean bone in her body.

Nero immediately perked up, that dopey grin lifting his lips as he stepped toward her, towing each child with him as he leaned in for a kiss. Each kid let out varying sounds of disgust, giggling at Nero as he rolled his eyes.

“Hey babe,” He told Kyrie, taking her hand with his left one and giving it a squeeze, “Sorry it took us so long, things got uhhh...crazy.”

Kyrie smiled in understanding, seeming delighted just to have him home as she said, “That’s okay, the kids kept me busy,” She looked down at the little boy clinging to Nero’s leg, the one with his thumb in his mouth, “Carlo helped me plant mint in some flower pots, didn’t you?”

The little boy nodded, perking up at her words like mint leaves were somehow the most exciting things every. Each of the kids was chatting excitedly, trying to get Nero’s attention with various stories they had amassed in his absence.

“Settle down,” He told them all ,setting the two he was holding on the ground with a smirk, “You’ll have all day tomorrow to catch me up. Didn’t I teach you guys to introduce yourselves when we have someone new in the house?”

All the kids looked confused until Nero pointed at the doorway where you were standing with Nico, drawing all four sets of little eyes on you instead. You blinked, smiling in a friendly manner and trying to calm the little ball of anxiety in your stomach. After all, Kyrie was now looking at you too. There was a look of almost...excitement in her eyes as she examined your face, seeming just as eager to see you as the kids did when they scrambled over to your legs. You were new, and new things excited children it would seem.

“Who are you?” Asked one of the older children, a little boy with darker skin but pretty, green eyes. All of them were starring at you with varying levels of awe and interest, making you feel a bit nervous as you struggling to tame the lump in your throat.

“I...I’m Y/N,” You introduced yourself, crouching down so you were at eye level with the boy who asked. You smiled, holding out a hand to shake as you asked, “And you are?”

He immediately stuck out his arm, grasping your fingers and giving it a little wiggle as he replied, “My name is Julio! This is Kyle, Carlo, and Emma.”

The other boy, Kyle, let out a huff and tugged on Julio’s shirt, “I can say my own name…!”

Nico and Nero had mentioned all their names before, but it was still polite to ask. You smiled ruefully when Julio stuck out his tongue, feeling the little girl place a hand on your arm and patting lightly to get your attention. She looked like she was six or seven years old, her brown hair pulled into tiny pigtails and her eyes round with curiosity.

“Hi, Y/N.” She said with a small wave, bouncing on her feet a bit.

Well, you were overwhelmed but incredibly smitten.

Each child kept trying to introduce themselves now, leaving you to stand there and take it all in with patience. Nico chuckled, reaching down to scoop up Carlo and put the boy over her shoulder--she could sense you losing control of the situation, and came to your rescue easily. For that, you were heavily grateful.

“C’mon now, brats!” She exclaimed loudly, snatching Kyle and starting for another doorway toward a set of stairs, “None of y’all have brushed your teeth, your smelly breath is stinkin’ up the air.”

Each kid let out whines of complaint, Kyle wiggling in the mechanics grasp as she carted them upstairs. You heard Nico argue with them, claiming that they had tomorrow to learn about the “new lady” and talk to her. New lady being you. The instant they were out of sight you felt the tension leave your body heart pounding slower and slower now that you no longer had them all crowding you. They were precious, they really were, but after the past few days trying to keep up with their energy was impossible. When was the last time you interacted with a child? You couldn’t ever remember a time, not in the last few missions at all.

But that still left Kyrie.

She approached you when the kids were gone, taking your hands between hers to squeeze them as she apologized, “Please forgive them, we don’t see many new faces around here,” Her eyes were so soft when you looked into their brown depths, her lips tilted in a welcoming smile, “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard many good things about you.”

Wow, Kyrie radiated the energy of a mom or a big sister. Even more than Lady did, if that was all possible. You felt like you were staring into something bright enough to be the sun.

“You must be Kyrie,” You said, tilting your head and smiling as well while you added, “It’s...it’s wonderful to meet you too. Nero talked about you quite a bit.”

The boy had the decency to look embarrassed, ducking his head and cheeks a little red while he leaned on a nearby wall. Careful not to let his bare hand show, of course. Kyrie looked back at him, easily catching his awkward look and letting out a cute giggle.

“That makes me happy,” She said, turning back to you with a grin, “Let me show you which room is yours--the kids have an area on one side of the house, and we have a few rooms on this side.”

You nodded, letting her take you by the hand just as Nico had and tug you towards an opposing set of stairs. Nero exchanged a glance with you as she did so, giving you an encouraging smile and wiggling his right set of fingers in a meaningful wave. He still had his little surprise waiting for his wife, which you were certain he was going to show her once they had some alone time. You would try not to keep her busy for too long, the lovers deserved to have their reunion at the very least.

After climbing the stairs she lead you down a hallway, giving you time to see paintings and pictures lining the walls between rooms. You saw unfamiliar people and children among a few pictures of Nero and Kyrie. You guessed some of these were of the kind woman’s parents, others of the children who used to stay at the orphanage. There was even one of a little, grumpy boy with white hair--there was no mistaking who that was.

Regardless, you followed Kyrie to a door at the end of the hall. It opened to reveal another small set of stairs, leading to a loft-style room that had to be yours.

You blinked, taking in the quaint little space with curious eyes and feeling your breath catch. There were huge, open windows facing the ocean behind the house, curtains drifting on the wind over your bed. The room wasn’t large, but you preferred it this way. The ceiling was slanted on the opposing side to the window, over a cubby with a desk. There looked to be a dresser as well in front of the railing to the stairs, and a small closet door. It was cute, and it was much more than you would have ever asked from anyone. To be able to taste the ocean air in the morning, woken up by the sun…

The only hurt was knowing V wouldn’t be there to experience it with you.

Stop that.

“I put some clothing in the dresser for you,” Kyrie’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, making you look at her as she pulled open a drawer, “It’s not much, but I can make more once I get some more supplies from the city square.”

You blinked, tone awed as you asked, “You...make clothes?”

She nodded, seeming proud of herself as she gave a little twirl in her dress--a flowing thing that reached her knees, patterned with sunflowers and wearing a jean jacket on top, “I do. It’s cheaper this way, easier to get fabrics and thread from people in Fortuna with how slow things have been.”

That was understandable, but still impressive. You wondered if she made the kids clothes too, but assumed the answer was yes considering how Kyrie was as a person.

“Thank you for your kindness,” You said softly, touching the few shirts in the first drawer with your fingertips. You felt the woman look back at you on her way to show you the closet, but you kept your eyes on the dresser, “I’ll do my best not to be a burden on you and Nero, and to make up for staying here. Whatever you need I can do.”

You would cook, clean, and help Nero fight demons if needed. You knew what your Void powers could do, knew that they could serve many uses other than fighting if you so chose it. Kyrie and Nero didn’t have to take you in, but...they did, and for that nothing would ever be enough to repay them for it. Kyrie smiled in understanding, looking a bit sad in your peripheral vision but you couldn’t understand why. Surely she would want help? Working an orphanage was hard work, and you doubted she was paid much for it if at all.

“Help is always needed,” She said softly, taking a step closer and putting a hand on your shoulder, “But take the time to recover first. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

That made your heart skip a beat, that flowering pain opening its petals and digging in thorns. There was no doubt that Nero had talked to her about what happened with V, and maybe more judging by that knowing look in her eyes. You looked at her, fingers trembling where they touched the soft fabric and trying to gather yourself again. But Kyrie didn’t wait for a reply, only offering a cheerful smile and moving for the stairs once more.

“There’s a shower downstairs on the right,” She told you, patting a towel hanging on the railing, “Why don’t you get cleaned up and meet me on the beach later so we can talk?”

You nodded, feeling a bit dazed as you watched her descend down the stairs with her auburn hair swaying back and forth. The last time you had showered, in was in the van after your punishment. And that alone was a hard memory to swallow, even as you obeyed her. Your feet carried you to the bathroom without thinking, fingers numb as you closed the door and started to remove your clothes. If you weren’t struggling so hard to keep your emotions at bay, you might have noticed how cute the bathroom was. Blue tiles and things revolving around the ocean hanging on the walls. But...your mind was elsewhere.

This was the first time you saw yourself in the mirror since the incident.

Your eyes stared tiredly back, hair shoved over one shoulder and those new tattoos covering your collar bones down to your arms. Pale, you looked pale. Not like yourself, even though you had issues with that before now. It was eerie, seeing V’s markings on your own flawed skin, the sensation making you feel even more numb than before. But that was definitely your hand that raised in the mirror, touching your cheek and wiping at a dried drop of whale oil on your lashes. You were a mess, it was shocking that the children approached you looking so run down.

But you didn’t linger, turning to step into the porcelain tub and turn on the water. For whatever reason, you thought the instant you were under the warm spray the tears would finally come, that you would break down and finally sob all the pain out. But...you didn’t. You mechanically washed your hair, scrubbed your body, removed all traces of the Qliphoth tree in its entirety. And even then, the tears wouldn’t come. Which phase of the grief was this, the aching numbness filling your limbs? It spread as you shut off the water, not staying too long in the warmth and drying yourself off. Being clean didn’t make you feel better, but it also didn’t make you worse.

It was all instinct, drying your hair, putting on what felt to be a fresh, blue shirt and new shorts. They were comfortable, made more for relaxation than fighting. And even then...you felt unchanged as you padded up to your room, depositing your clothes in a hamper before making your way back down. Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare were anxious on the edges of your mind, taking in your mood and the new area but too nervous to come out yet. All in all, you spent maybe thirty or forty minutes getting freshened up.

When you got downstairs, things had quieted considerably. It was around eight o’clock now, the sun already almost gone behind the clouded horizon line. You looked around, taking in what looked to be a living room and parlor off from the kitchen, then a room that lead to what appeared to be the main part of the orphanage. You didn’t want to look around too much yet, so you headed to what looked to be a back door, stepping outside barefoot. Kyrie and Nero lived in a beautiful home--there was a garden out back, growing fruits and vegetables with an archway lined with vines. You followed a little stone path leaded to a small set of stairs, ones that lead out onto golden sands.

There was a strange feeling there, your toes sinking into the sand that was cooling now that the sun was down. To live so close to a beach, it just beyond their back door was...nice. And there on the beach Kyrie waited, sitting on a blanket with Nico and sipping what looked to be tea sitting on a small table with a lit lantern illuminating them in the dim light. Both looked up at the sound of you approaching, Nico now in what looked to be an oversized t-shirt and booty shorts now that she wasn’t working in her van.

“Where’s Nero?” You asked quietly, sitting down next to Kyrie on the blanket and crossing your legs. For that matter, the kids were absent too. You were unsure how late that they were allowed to stay up.

Nico snorted, her long hair now pulled into a loose ponytail as she replied, “He’s putting the little kiddies to bed. They were eager to have him back,” She waggled her brows, staring at Kyrie in amusement as she added, “You missed out on Nero showing Kyrie his new arm, Y/N.”

You looked at the woman in question, catching her smiling widely and proudly at mention of Nero. It was easy to see that she was overjoyed about the surprise, her eyes shining with delight as she nodded vigorously.

“I’m so happy for him,” She said in a relieved tone, clasping her hands in front of her chest like she was praying, “It was so hard for him when he lost the Devil arm, I’m glad there’s at least one grief off his shoulders.”

Christ, Kyrie really was a sweetheart, wasn’t she? It made you smile, even if the motion felt a little stiff with your mood. You accepted a cup of tea when it was offered to you by Nico, holding the cup between your fingers and staring at the liquid with tired eyes. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was definitely Nero and Kyrie. Your sorrow didn’t subtract from that in the slightest bit. You tried to keep that thought in your head, knowing that sinking into anything less would be childish. Jealousy had never been in your nature, and you weren’t about to start now.

“He was really excited to show you,” Your mouth moved finally, words soft but still heard over the sound of waves, “He went through a lot, so he deserves to get something good from it.”

Kyrie placed a hand on your arm, making you look up at her gentle, brown eyes. For a moment it felt like she was looking right into your soul, a sensation that made you feel a bit too vulnerable for your liking.

“So did you,” She said softly, not looking away from your startled gaze as she continued, “Nero told me what happened with V, and Vergil. And the Deity too--you went through something just as terrible.”

Hearing all their names made you flinch, looking away and holding the cup a little bit tighter. She was only confirming what you already knew, but the reality was punching you in the gut over and over. Walls of numbness were surrounding those emotions now, but they were new. Made of fragile glass, threatening to break just at hearing V’s name. You didn’t want to shatter, not now. Not anymore. It was your burden to bear, this pain that you were burying deep inside with all the rest of the memories that hurt you. It was all you could do to cope, to smile.

But it just made you a glass container ready to crack.

“It’s okay,” You said mechanically, the words feeling fake even to you as you kept your eyes on the ocean, “I’ll be fine with time.”

You felt the Void rising up, whispering those words through your lips that had become so familiar.

“This pain is a reminder that I am alive,” You said softly, but they felt weighted now. Tired, not like before. In the beginning these words felt right, they had meaning and they drove you. You took pain as a blessing, for if you felt pain it meant that you weren’t dead like before. Every bit of it was a gift, one that you shouldn’t take for granted. But...now it felt like weights, “I’ll bear it, because I...I’m lucky to even be here right now.”

You should be grateful. To have power, to have life breathed into your suffering soul and lungs.

You could feel Kyrie and Nico staring at you, but you didn’t dare look back at their faces. You knew that they couldn’t understand, they who had never died or been to a place like the Void. The cold, the dark, the howling of so many tortured voices...it left its mark on you, one that would never leave. The Deity’s hands had been guiding you since that first moment of awakening, but they felt more like shackles now, holding you down as a knife was plunged into your chest. And worse...you felt like you deserved it.

“....You know,” Kyrie finally said, her voice gentle and warm compared to the turmoil being tampered down inside you, “I’ve always found that the good things in life are what make me feel most alive.”

You froze, turning to meet her brown gaze with a startled one of your own. She stared steadily back, taking one of your hands and squeezing it between her delicate fingers. It looked like she had given her words a lot of thought, probably cultivating this speech since Nero and Nico had told her your story. Of how you died, repeating the miserable cycle over and over until you fell for V. And then...he left you too.

They always leave.

“Like eating your favorite food after not having it for a long time,” Kyrie continued despite your dark thoughts, closing her eyes like she was remembering past memories, her hair drifting on the breeze, “Or hugging a friend so tightly that you share your warmth with them. The feeling of putting on a fresh shirt when it has dried, or the sensation of laughing so hard there are tears in your eyes.”

“Or,” Nico piped in, sucking down some tea and smiling mischievously at you, “Finally gettin’ home after a long day and stickin’ your tiddies in front of an air conditioner.”

Kyrie let out a light giggle, smiling widely as she looked back at the messy haired mechanic, “That too! But what I’m saying is,” she turned back to you, squeezing your hand again as you listened on in silence, “This mindset you have, that life should be made real only by pain...in reality, it’s not making you feel alive at all. It’s keeping you in that bad place, making you feel like you deserve to be hurt like it justifies you being alive again...doesn’t it?”

In reality...you didn’t feel alive at all, did you?

Your glass walls started trembling, fingers mimicking the motion in Kyrie’s grasp. It was starting to hurt, it was starting to claw its way out your throat again. You stared out at the sea, feeling yourself unraveling as Nero’s fiance spoke the words you knew all along to be true, but never wanted to acknowledge it. After so many years of pain, of suffering, what else could you do to cope? The dark, the cold, the Void...you were birthed into this existence in pain, so willing to believe whatever was told to you to make the ache tolerable. Fooling yourself, trying to take the pain as a means to shield yourself. Like a punishment that you deserved.

It hurt. It hurt and it wasn’t fair. You felt your breathing speed up, mind struggling to push back the flood threatening to overtake you. It was too much, it was too much. You were overflowing with emotions in a glass too full, ready to break. And it had been a long time coming.

“I know it hurts,” Kyrie whispered, holding your trembling fingers between your own and keeping her gaze on your face, “You lost someone dear to you, and it’s agony, the worst kind. But this isn’t what made you feel most alive, was it? It was when you were with him that you were thriving, when pain wasn’t there anymore.”

“To hold infinity in the palm of your hand,” Your mind replayed the night in the church, V’s eyes staring at you in adoration as he stroked your cheek. It made your breath catch,  a whimper of agony threatening to burst from your throat as you tried to push it back, “An eternity in an hour.”

Please. I can’t I can’t do this.

“My sparrow, I do believe you are coming undone.”

Remembering you is a reminder of pain.

“I am such a selfish creature, sparrow.”

One that I will never come back from.

“And it’s those memories that you should hold onto, to remind you that you are alive,” Kyrie put a hand to your cheek, tilting your head so that your stricken gaze was looking back at her, “You are alive because you can love and feel all those wonderful things. Never doubt that, Y/N.”

It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt. Tears were starting to fill your eyes, threatening to track down your cheeks.

It hurts.

Kyrie gave you a soft smile, one that was a bit sad as she continued carefully, “Let the pain be pain, sweetheart. You’re allowed to be upset, to be angry, to be be heartbroken without trying to convince yourself that it’s needed,” She moved her hand from your cheek so she could squeeze your shaking fingers again, her voice taking on a firm tone as she continued, “You didn’t deserve it, you never did. And it’s okay to think that, to look at pain as a burden when it is one--pain is a reminder, but never one that you are alive.”

Pain is a reminder, but never one that you are alive.

You felt yourself starting to hyperventilate, the tears falling down your cheeks without stop. You saw V in your mind, smiling at you with his gentle jade eyes meeting yours.

You didn’t deserve it, you never did.

The walls had shattered, flooding you with memory after memory, feeling after feeling. Of when V held your hand for the first time, sharing your first kiss, entwining your bodies as you shared a night of passion. Crashing down on you like waves until you felt it again, the drowning grief pulling you under until you couldn’t breathe. It hurt, it was agony. But worse--she was right. Those were the moments where you felt alive, heart at ease and filled with joy, filled with adoration and affection. When you were laughing with Griffon, curled up in a bed next to the familiars and V. You felt more alive in those moments than any other in so many years since your awakening, and they were everything to you.

All the tears you had held back, the feelings waiting to break through now burst out. You were crumbling to pieces, unable to stop the flow once it began. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that you lost him after working so hard. This pain wasn’t fair, you didn’t deserve it. You deserved better.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

Heavy, gasping sobs started to burst out of your throat, tears dripping down your chin like a dam broken loose. You couldn’t stop, they couldn’t stop, and for once you didn’t want them to.

And for the first time in so long, you wept harder than you ever had. Crying with your whole body, sobs wracking your frame as you fell to pieces in front of both girls. Kyrie took  the cup from your hands, handing it to Nico before she pulled you into an embrace. Your sobs turned into wails, releasing every ounce of grief and loss you felt, mind replaying all the moments of happiness ripped away from you in and instant. And this was what Kyrie knew you needed, to let it all go, to let the pain out and stop fighting yourself. After years and years of holding yourself back and taking beating after beating, you had finally had enough. She held you close, like a mother would, stroking back your hair and whispering soothingly to you.

“It’s not fair…!” You sobbed, voice raw and broken as your shoulders trembled, “It’s not...it’s not fair…!”

I just wanted happiness, after so long of not having it. And it fell to pieces.

I gave everything.

I gave everything and it changed nothing.

You felt Nico put a hand on one of your shoulders, squeezing you gently as you continued to cry out everything you had held back. She said nothing, but you could feel her support too.

Kyrie stroked your hair back, her voice gentle and soothing as she whispered, “You did your best, and that’s what matters. It will be okay, I promise you that,” She held you closer, arms steady and firm and holding your steady amongst the storm inside, “You’re a part of my family now, and we will make sure you find happiness again, I swear that Y/N.”

You said nothing in response, still sobbing softly in her arms and unable to stop yourself. For once in so many years, you felt like you were at home. There had been no time to rest, no time to find peace, no time to realize just how terrible things had been for you. But now...now you were unraveling, picking apart every tragedy like they were strings on a bow playing the song of your existence. You would grieve for what you lost, for the poet who left you behind. Because unlike before, you weren’t trying to swim in the ocean of grief alone, drowning in the inky waters of the Void.

The familiars were surrounding your mind, holding you in your grief like life preservers. Kyrie and Nico were holding your head above water, and Nero was there with a boat. You had them there, and they were the reminders that you were alive. Not the pain, not the heartache, not losing V. You would keep those precious memories of him, of every touch, kiss, and words shared. And you would hold them to your heart, those moments where you felt the most alive.

And that, for you, would be enough.

These are the reminders that I am alive.

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Tagged: @slightlylunatic @nightshadow4713 @silentwhispofhope @just-call-me-no-name @efiicitia @shaelin444

[letsperaltiago]

I give up, I'm in love crying out to you |Jake x Amy|

So this is the post ”Yippie Kayak” fic I talked about! And honestly... I’m not super happy with how it turned out, compared to what I had in mind, but... I hope someone out there will enjoy it. Maybe

xx!

word count: 2.8k

The red and blue lights coming from the remaining police cars reflected back off his slightly pale face as he started the car, carefully driving away from the surrounded Goodwin’s before turning down the main street. Since Jake had quickly been pulled away from her to get checked by a paramedic as soon as they pulled back from their passionate reunion kiss, neither of them had gotten to say much to the other after Jake escaped the hostage situation. He’d quickly shrugged off his leather coat then hoodie before giving her the latter before he was pulled aside. Since then Amy had spent the time checking up on Gina and Charles, secretly feeling unsettled and almost burdened even though Jake was clearly safe and sound. Why?

So she wondered still as they quietly drove off and away from the chaos. It was just the two of them in Jake’s car. Maybe she didn’t say anything but on the inside Amy felt like screaming and crying, almost like she wanted to speak out but some unknown force pushed the words back down her throat. More than anything she didn’t want him to notice, because then he’d worry and he was the last person who should worry about someone else. He’d just been beaten by robbers and held hostage, for God’s sake! Although it probably didn’t help keeping her messy state of mind secret that she uneasily, shuffling in her seat, kept looking back and forth between the bypassing streets and his focused, slightly bruised face. Either his mind was somewhere else, which was completely understandable, or he chose to bite his tongue and not comment on it.

“Should I drop you off at home?” After such a long silence, his voice almost startled her, causing Amy’s head to quickly whip away from the window and in his direction instead like a deer caught in headlights. They usually slept at her place, almost everyday besides a few times a week whenever one or both needed a bit of me-time, so this caught the young woman a bit off guard. Did he ask because he wanted to drop her off and go home alone? Or was he just being polite? During the 7 months they’d been together, Amy had never turned to overthinking like this and it scared her. Jake would never have ulterior motives when it come to her - or anyone else, for that matter. What was wrong with her?

“Ames?” Without taking his eyes off the road for too long he allowed himself to take a quick glance of her, obviously confused by the lack of response he got from his otherwise always very clear and palpable girlfriend.

“Oh, sorry. I just-“ she bit her lip, silencing herself with her thinking. Honestly she wanted nothing more but to tell him no. No, she didn’t want him to just drop her off and act like nothing had happened. Actually the very last thing she wanted after coming so close to losing him was to go home alone - without him. Then she remembered that her bag (having held clean, warm clothes) from the polar swim and stinky, soaked jacket was still in his trunk, and last-mentioned item probably needed a good wash. She also did happen to have a full day of Christmas celebration with her enormous family waiting for her tomorrow on the 25th, so… Though every signal within herself told her that she didn’t want to, that it was wrong, it probably would be easier to just go home and get the last chores crossed off her mental list.

“Uhm, yeah. My place is fine.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could sense a nod, immediately sending her heart crashing into her gut. First the polar swim, then the hostage situation and now this? What a shitty Christmas eve. 10 minutes of silence later, he pulled over in front her apartment building and turned off the engine. Neither of them seemed to be able to break that eyes, staring straight ahead out the front window with stiff postures and mingled thoughts.

“So we’re here,” Amy finally mumbled, slowly and almost unwillingly reaching for the door handle.

Jake turned in his seat, scanning her up and down with his tired, yet always so gentle eyes.

Words were burning in her throat, making it feel like a muddy mixture of feelings and tears balling up in trachea. It was pure agony and it just wasn’t worth it, when she was with this wonderful man who’d never laugh at or dismiss anything she said. She needed to calm down and trust him.

“Would you mind coming upstairs with me? Just for a second,” she finally managed to almost gurgle out and finally looking back at him.

“No, of course not.” He smiled weakly, pausing for a moment, before leaning over the gap between their seats to peck her temple. “Let me help you with your stuff.”

So there they were, just 2 minutes later, after climbing the few stairs to her first floor apartment. The flicking of a switch by the entrance door drenched the living room/kitchen in a soft yellow light, which allowed them both to make their way to the center of the room.

“Should I just put it on a hanger it in your bathroom?” Jake asked sweetly, making Amy’s heavy heart do summersaults because of the fact that he’d read her mind before doing anything else.

She sent him a grateful smile, “Yeah, thanks. Just make sure to-“

“Hang it in the shower, so it won’t drip on the floor?”

Amy could tell by the way her boyfriend’s  eyes light up and his lips morphed into a crooked, boyish smile that he was proud of the fact that he’d managed finish her sentence just right. Sometimes she forgot that not only had they been dating for 7 months, but he’d also been her best friend for longer and partner against crime for even longer. There was no denying that he, more than anyone else and even herself, knew her the best. A weak smile growing on her lips at the thought let him know he was right, and then there was nothing else for her to do but to follow him with her eyes as he walked off to the bathroom with her icy ocean-coat.

Everything was so good between them and there was absolutely no denying it. Then why did she slump down on her couch with a heavy sigh and an even heavier her, she wondered. What was it about today; about her; about him, that made it seem like she was holding back and onto some kind of secret. A heavy slump back against the back of the couch seemed appropriate for the situation. Few steps wandered down the hall towards her, coming closer and closer. Next thing she knew he was back, standing by the kitchen at the opposite end of the room, freezing in his track when he noticed her hopeless expression. A staring contest between the two seemed to be initiated, but truth be told, she was not taking in just his eyes. Also the dark circles that surrounded them, his short, but nonetheless curls very messy from the day’s actions, his posture only emphasised how he probably felt - yet Amy Santiago had never before been so sure of one thing.

“Amy, is everything okay?”

Okay, the jig was up. He’d definitely noticed her being way off the entire night. Maybe he had been so too, but he, on the other hand, had an actual excuse.

“Yeah,” the following sigh did not reassure him. “Come sit with me for a second. Please?” She let her hands dance across the empty space by her side.

It truly did feel like walking into the belly of the beast, but ready for whatever she was going to throw at him, the eager detective made his way to the empty spot beside her and placed himself facing her. One leg bent on the couch, the other hanging off the side as he rested his side against the couch’s soft back. Another silence swallowed them both. Right in front of him, so close that he could reach out and touch her even though he didn’t dare to right then, Amy was nervously pushing her hair back behind her ears. Normally a double-tuck was a good sign, Jake couldn’t help but notice, but the current moment seemed to be way off and inconsistent.

“Ames, you’re kinda freaking me out here. Are we okay? Are you okay?”

The fact that he emphasised the ‘you’ more than the ‘we’ once again told her that he was the greatest man alive, obviously caring more about her than himself and them. A smile was not to be held back and her left hand, rebelliously in the name of love, expressed the same intractableness by reaching forward and cupping his cheek. Like a tear, though they weren’t present, Jake felt her thumb dance downards across his face and a million butterfly were set free in his stomach.

“Yes,” she nodded softly. “Both me and us. More importantly: Are you okay?”

He nodded softly into the her hand’s fingerhold, secretly wishing she would elaborate instead of redirecting the worry towards him. “I’m okay. Tonight was scary, but now I’m here with you. And though it might seem cheesy, it’s what matters to me.”

She nodded back, and though her mind was racing, trying to fight and make sense of all of her thoughts, her lips parted with willingness to speak. “It’s okay to be cheesy. It’s what matters to me too: Us…” She hesitantly allowed a pause, breathing in and unconsciously ran her tongue across her upper lip, considering if she should continue. This was Jake Peralta. With them it had always been this weird game of ‘in-between but never quite there’. The years of pining, the ‘never-single-at-the-same time’, keeping it light and breezy, almost breaking up twice within their first week together… It all came rushing back like an avalanche, pushing Amy over the edge of her emotional mountain. This time she wasn’t going to stay stuck in the middle; she was going big or going home - and she was already home, so there really was no way around it. “… Which I guess is why I’ve been so weird all night.��

Jake Peralta tilting his head slightly to the side in wonder was somehow the cutest and worst sight in the entire world - worst because she knew he did it out of confusion and precariousness. Amy Santiago wasn’t one to be overly confident with men, but these 7 months together had definitely taught her that she held his heart in his hands. His secretly very fragile, loving heart. On the other hand though, she also knew that he also held hers. Vulnerably and firmly all at once.

“You…” along with a heavy breath, her hand dropped from his face into his lap to hold his. Her gaze followed behind. “Being in danger like you were tonight really got me thinking about how important you are to me.” Her sincere brown eyes finally looked, to his relief, back up at him as those last words danced off her lips. Tender yet alert eyes and an understanding not from her boyfriend let Amy know that he was listening - he usually did whenever she spoke - and pushed her to continue. Taking this leap meant that there was no turning back around. “Li-,” her breath hitched, when tears suddenly welled in her eyes with urge to leap over the edge and down her cheeks. “Like it just got me thinking about the fact that just barely 3 years ago, I could never live with you. Never share a life with you, never be in the same room as for more than a few minutes without going absolutely insane,” she squeezed their joined hands in reassurance. “Never touch you like this. We seemed to be two opposites in all the worst ways. Impossible to unify.”

Though it was obviously with caution, seeing how affected by the matter his girlfriend was, Jake smiled remembering how they used to be cat and mouse. Those times seemed so far away these days.

“And now, today,” the hitch in her voice repeated itself; this time causing a tingle tear to stream down her face. Even soaked in tears, her eyes never left his and if Jake wasn’t completely delusional from all of the surfacing emotions, he could’ve sworn tears were welling up in his as well. “It just really hit me that I could never live without you.”

Almost like a bomb, silence dropped and blasted through the space around them. It sucked them into a black hole of everything from utter vulnerability to raw emotion and everything in between. Amy quickly noticed how her boyfriend’s eyebrows had cocked upwards, along with his suddenly much more awake eyes, in surprise.

“There’s before, now and after; me before you, me with you and I never want there to be a ‘me after you’, Jake Peralta.”

His jaw failed to keep his mouth shot, allowing his lips to part in awe like a kid having just discovered a secret treasure of gold, diamonds and pearls.

Her heart picked up pace as well as her termbling voice.

“God, I don’t know if this is moving too fast; if it’s right or wrong… But I’m just gonna say it. I desperately need you to know.”A brief pause pierced the moment, the three words welling up inside her mouth.

“I love you.”

His lips slowly merged back into a soft smile, his eyes glistening with joy as he brought his strong hands across the distance between them to hold her face and look into her eyes.

“I love you too, Ames.”

Finally, turning out to be what she needed more than anything that night, he used the hands attached to her face to pull her into a soft, tender kiss. A heavy weight suddenly dropped from her shoulders, her chest becoming lighter and fluttering as well. Within seconds her fingers wrapped around his wrists which were attached his hands that still cupped her now also smiling face. Their lips pressed together still, sparks flying like it was the first time instead of somewhere within the millions - probably - Amy knew she’d made the right decision. She loved Jake Peralta and he deserved to know.

His forehead pressed against hers, never disconnecting, as their lips parted and a dynamic energy travelled around them and the room. Amy could tell he was smiling; she was too after all.

“Tell me we’re end game?”  

When he slowly tilted his head just an inch back, Amy felt the tip and bridge of his nose gently stroke up her own. Upon having finally tilted it up and back far enough to reach her forehead, he pressed a tender kiss to it. It lasted longer than their rare, but yet sweet, little forehead kisses usually would. It almost felt like his lips had gotten stuck, but then suddenly to Amy’s secret dismay, he pulled his whole upper body back to look at her properly with glistening eyes and a happy grin. Amy’s heart on the other hand was anything but calm, thumping louder and harder than she ever imagined possible. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Maybe declaring her love like that was a bit too much for an otherwise emotionally cut off person like Jake. Maybe she should’ve just stuck to “I love you”… Or just nothing at all; she should’ve sent him back home and slept by herself tonight.

Yet suddenly it was clear to her that the confusion and anxiety must’ve been clearly written across her face, because once more and always preferably, Jake Peralta’s hands were buried deep within and messing up her glistening black locks like they were the last sensation he’d ever experience. His soft soft lips grabbed hers, telling her that she’d never be alone ever again though she still sometimes feared she would. More. She wanted it all and more, so she quickly reached across, grabbing the collar of his famous grey hoodie. If it was even possible by then, seeming to be as close as possible, she pulled on it and him. His lips scrunched into a smile against her desperate kiss. Suddenly his kiss wandered off too the side, onto her cheek; her chin; her hairline before ending on the top of her head with her cheek resting securely on top of his shoulder and arms wrapped tightly around her frame. Like they should be. Always.

“Amy Santiago, we’ve always been end game.”

[bonbonswirl-blog]

Broken

ALL THE CHARACTERS BELONG TO @brueklynn I OWN NOTHING. Because there is a character that we dont have any kind of idea about them, i will just go by 'another person' without any names or features, just a person XD i made this while having cold so it may seem a little off, try to enjoy Xd

11 pm

Behind a bar.

Thats what the letter said. Eyes lingered over the lines before the letter was lifted down to show the view of a big bar, was that really the place he was meant to visit? Only one way to find out. He entered the bar, rough paintwork that coats the door and push, shards of black paint crumble to the floor. The bar curved into a room, dark in the barely lit place, through the windows the diamonds of lead panes trickles the sallow light of street lamps. The hinges squeal as though they are a warning, but their plea is silenced by a wall of noise. Laughter overpowers the jukebox. Conversations swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke, the stagnant stench of cigarettes hides within the collaboration of mephitic odours. A sharp smell of drink wafts towards him, like black plumes bellowing from the windows of a burning house. There is even a hint of sick tainting the fragrance of the room.

He looked up and down, right and left, He cant find the sender of the letter, wait...Of course he wont! the letter said to meet Behind a bar! Now have he to find where is the back door that leads to outside. It took him long enought till he found it. trying the door knob, the heavy iron bound door swung open, revealing a wide area enclosed by a flimsy hain-link fence. The unrelenting darkness took over everthing, plucked the stars and anything that can glow, burying them beneath the sky. The air had thickened, the temperature dropped and nowhere was there a comforting sound. Trash cans leaning on the bar cracked walls, ground covered in dusty powder, what looked like a streetlight, which was the only one that isnt fully broken, flickered, casting an errie smudgy beam onto that black place. That wasnt really the...best place you could invite someone to meet you in...It was all quiet and derelict. He had the enough courgage to step forawrd, walking unusually slow, he had an odd gait, It was slightly lurching as he went, trudging along at a sedate pace. His head right and left, searching for who he was supposed to meet with, his mind focused on finding a sign of someone in this hopeless space rather than the footsteps that seemed to echo throughout the desolate yard, why didnt he just call the name to hear a respone? Maybe because it doesnt sound like a good idea to do so in this haunted place. Yet still, he kept finding his eyes diverting to something each moment he heard a low simple sound, darting to locate the source. Thats until, under those overwhelmed black shadows, and after a short stroll, he found who he was looking for, standing there uncommonly, under another bulb that lacks illumination. His boyfriend clicking his feet to the land underneath, probably out of pateince. Finally, harry found him! Walking towards his direction smiling. "Hey babe!" "harry..." "oh boy! why you gotta choose this place for a meeting? We could have gone inside the bar as usual, right?" Harry was still confused beind the sudden call at this late hour, but he didnt care. "Tonight we...not gonna drink at the bar." "uh, ok? So, why did you send this letter today? What are we going to do?" He pulled it from his pocket to show the proof. "Harry we....we need to talk." Not like this startled harry a lot, but it wasnt in an ordinary tone. "Sure! Talk away!" His boyfriend spoke with his head to the dusty ground. "You see...how both of us go together to do anything. to walk together, to talk to each other everyday, to work and help each other when in any of us in trouble, it was all nice werent it?" The sudden mention of their sweet times together was also strange. "Of course! And im glad I do all of these thing with you!" "and this is what I wanted to talk about tonight harry..." the fletcher paid his attention, waiting for his darling to start the conservation, he doesnt need to consider bad possibilties, instead he was a bit happy inside, what if those mentions were to remind the other of their constant affectionate attachment and celebrate 'something' together? That would be a lovely thing! It was tenser than a tiger who stalks a prey while harry lover peers his way to him, face resolutely unimpressed. "I think this..... relationship needs to...needs to....needs to end." Harry stopped like he had taken a bullet to the guts. The words fell on him like a storm. The cold air hitting his face.

"...What?......" He may just heard it wrong, he hoped he really did, he wished he did and this is not what his love just stated, doubt was filling him. "We need to end this harry." His boyfriend repeated, affirming his recent words. No, his hearing was right, thats what he just said... "What....W-What do you mean?!?" "What do you think I mean?" His lover raised his eyes to meet harry ones, so he would know he isnt just messing around. It took harry a while to speak again. "You dont really mean this..." "Do I look like I am joking?!?" Harry looked downward briefly. "but...But....I...I thought we loved each other..." "You Are Right!! LOVE'D'!! Its all from the past harry!!" Why would he say such a thing...his mind cycles through emotions faster than a kid flipping radio channels, he was broken. Harry couldnt accpet what is taking place, but what else is there to do? "dear you...I dont think you are in your right mind tonight..." "No!! YOU Are Not In Your Right Mind Harry!!! Didnt You See It?! This ISNT Working!!! It Never Did!! Now Go Away!!" "Wha-" "Go Away!!!" his words and his anger cut too deep that harry couldnt change the image of him. When he met his gaze his was just the same. "No" "Why Dont You Get It?! Go Away!!" "No I wont! you need to go back to your sanity!!" "Im In My Full Sanity! Just Go Away!!" "Not Until I know Whats Wrong!" "I Said GO AWAY YOU GARBAGE!!!!" Rising his fist, his hand swinging out connecting to harry face in a flash of pain. Although not on his back, harry toke a few steps back from the impact. Bewildered, pressing a pale hand to his cheeks trying to comprehend the previous seconds. Did..Did his..Did his boyfriend for the first time just....punched him?!

"You......." "I told you to go away." " I DONT UNDERSRAND YOU! WHY?! DID YOU CALL ME OUT TO THE BAR AT 11 PM JUST TO BREAK UP WITH ME?!" "yes, I Cannot keep this up any longer Harry, I needed to do it now." "Im Not Breaking Up With You Until You Tell Me The Reason!" "look At Me In The Eyes And Say You Still Dont Know The Reason!! I Dont Even Know What Got Me To Agree To Be With You!" With each little word... a piece of harry heart broke. "...how could you say this...what happened that changed you?...." "Changed Me?! YOU Changed Man!! I Kept Being Myself and Been Who I am While Keeping Our Connections Stable!! I Did Everything With And For You!! Even In Stupidest Things! And I Shouldnt Have!" "But Bab-" "I Hate You!!" "No-" "I Always Did! And I knew One day you willl hate me too!" Thats wrong. They both loved each other, they said it and showed it, all of these are just words from anger...so why all this nonsense about love and hate? Where had he gone wrong? Since when did this love turn to poison? He doesnt know what had climbed inside His beloved and turned him mad. "Stop!! YOU Need To Calm Down!" "NO!! And For The Last Time Go Away!!" "Not Until I know The Reason!!" "No You Wont Know Now Go Away" "I Already Said Not Until I know What Happened!!" "GO AWAY!" "NO!" "You Gave Me No Other Choice!!" Without thinking, harry boyfriend turned around to grab something from a near shelf. It was revealed to be a small bucket. However, when harry figured out the kind of liquid thats inside it, the intended message was already enforced, and he lost what little colour he had, starting to freak out.

"Dont you dare....." "Oh I will! I will throw all this bucket content at Your Face If You dont leave Me!!!!" The other man couldnt believe this..his lover cant do that...yes he may be out of his mind right now, but he will never have the nerve to throw some unknown chemicals straightly on his face, it was just an empty threat to leave. and all he could do was to stare lifelessly at the eyes that held that bucket and a terrifying coldness he had never seen before. He had always thought those eyes were like a gem, but looking at them now he could see no trace of the vibrancy they once held, no trace of the boy he once knew. "Darlin-" "DONT CALL ME DARLING ANYMORE!!" There was stillness on both sides, faces unreadable. "Please be back to yourself..." "Leave Me Alone! "Please!" "Your Last chance Harry....GO AWAY" "PLEASE!!" "THATS IT!" That was when the cold man lost it altogether, and the unexpected happened. In an immediate movment he launched forward, tossing all the liquid inside the bucket in an aim to harry head, although it wasnt a full success, he did strike a part of his face. Harry swore he could had saw some good memories flashing before his eyes. And whatever that scorching substance was, when it fell Againist Harry face.

He Howled

It Was Hell.

The pain had no culture, no pity, no mind, yet it consumed whatever it pleases. Its only criteria is if it can take it and reduce it to something molten and foul, paroxysm of agony triggered a guttural cry from the fluter. His hands clawed over his burning face, brutally gashed. Solvent swirls on it without any mercy, penetrating to the cells that should be protected by smooth skin but lie open. Surge of torments spirals all over him. Violent shaking forced through his whole body, with no assume of stopping. Monstrous chill continued running down his spine and made his ghostly skin crawl. Muscles going to giving up. The worst of the blood had spelled, ran freely in thick scarlet rivers amongst his whole face, staining his hair, matting them together before it soaked into his cloths and the floor. From a clear distance outside, it was like a high barking that carried well through walls and air. Lungs have no choice but to painfully and rigidly take in the chilled air around for a living breathe until they couldnt anymore. He have cried and screamed, maybe not evident, nevertheless it was as if he was calling for a help, but there was no help to come, perhaphs the strength in his voice perished. His breath taken away every second, he was in his greatest neccisity of taking an inhale.

Thats until he decided to surrender to the torturing and sink into the unfolded darkness.

He was in a heavy black cloud. Nothing to see, Nothing to hear, Nothing to feel, Just this heaviness in his whole body. He couldnt remember how to open his eyes, but when he did, he scrunched the opened one at the bright light that was sipping through his closed eyelid, in struggle he slowly opened it, desperately squinting in attempt to sharpen the blurred images before him. Pungent smell of hospital disinfect invading his nostrils. The room was silent apart from the beep beep sound you often hear in hospitals that indicates youre alive and Quiet talking. He started to sense something, or rather a material, soft but elastic tightening around his whole sore face, from chin to forehead, even one of his eyes were covered, it was very aching. When the sight of his survived eye arised, he perceived Someone bending over him, face watching his. What harry never toke notice of is that they are holding his weak hand, and that they have little tears in their eyes. The features were not clear, but it can be marked that they have a light brown hair and wearing something..blue? Harry attempted hardly to recognize who is this, but he coudnt with this wounded brain, then he heard the familiar word that assisted in that. "...Brother..." Harry tried to remember how to talk. No words came, he blinked trying to force his memory to recall the owner of this soft voice with broken tone. He was out of ability to even clear his throat. He tried to answer, to say something, but all what came out was a tiny whisper. "...augh....ma....rley?..." The other man wrapped his arms around the injured one shoulders and pulled him close, hugging him gently to not provoke the burn. "shhhhh...save your strength brother...it will be alright..." Marley had a hard time hiding his sniffs, but harry havent got enought focus to realize. His sibling tenderly patting his hand, giving a queit moment for the victim to adapt to the consciousness. Harry lie still, slowly started blinking, he wanted to see whats around him. But he cant lift anything off this deep pillow. He used the very bare left of his capability to move some little angles right and left for learing about his new surroundings. Glancing around the bright white coloured bedroom. He catched sight of someone wearing the same color for a coat, staring at him from the door. He strain to hear and makes sense of it all. No idea. Where is he and why? How long had he been here? He shut his eyes, trying to remember what had exactly occured. Then it all hits him with a bang, The memory of it all starts to occupy his thoughts, panicking he jolted up with rushing hands running at his bandages, making sure this is true, the wound hurting with every touch of his finger, he figured it all out.

He lived

He laid back in his bed, he felt powerless and heavier, Couldnt move his hands, head or bod, His eyes washed with the kind of emotion that only come when people break in ways with no way to be repaired. "Whoever did this bro...they are Not Getting Away With This!!!!" "Mr. Marley please calm down the patient is still in an unstable condition." Marley sighed, plummeting his head to the bed, holding his brother hand a bit tighter. "im sorry doctor...its just that..." He couldnt continue his sentence for some reason, instead he started a new one. "Harry...please get better...for your family...for your friends...for me...please..."

Harry spent the rest of his days in the hospital remaining still in the bed. His head eaither felt heavy or light. He lost the track of time and may needed somebody to tell him, but he never cared, he will let all the time pass without any hint of concern. He never felt that alone or empty before. Sometimes, he replay the events in his head and wonder what were the right words to say, what was it that could prevent everything, it wont change that he is all to blame. It might had been kinder to kill him than to constrain him with living beside this burn. Everytime he try to sleep and leave this living nightmare, he cant. He never had the enough hope to recover or be cured. He wont, he doesnt need, he already knows he will never get better, he will never be the same.

If only

if only...

If only he didnt go behind that bar at 11 pm.

[dolanficsparadise]

♣️Charlotte~Ethan♠️

CHAPTER I

Paring:Ethan x Charlotte (character)

Warning:Hate-Love-Smut in future chapters

Word Count-3184

This twisted love story takes place in late 1800s around the 1889 Ethan’s eyes are green and brownish in the story but they’re going to be mostly Red or black)

~CHARLOTTE~

Sunday - today was the day that made my stomach turn from unknown feelings

“Come on Charlotte we have to get you dressed aren’t you happy to see your parents once again its been quite along time and you’ve read their letters darling they quite miss you"Malia shouts from inside of the closet her sweet voice flowing through my ears as a soft river of melodies

I didnt quite feel any emotion whatsoever about my parents coming back from winters valley from their meeting because I never even got to see them anyway

Eventhough we lived in the same house and only got to see them in special occasions and dinner if I was even lucky to dine with them it was just always me and malila 24/7

But I guess I still existed for them when I read their lovely handwritten letters stamped with a yellow seal on the back of it

Why yellow? I would ask myself as I remember my moms sweet voice as she always said yellow was our color beacuse it meant power and success

I really didnt know why our kingdom had to have the yellow seal like every type of mail or letter we send to other kingdoms it will be yellow  as well with our clothing it had to have something yellow

As well as many other kingdoms who have their own different color seal like The Violet seal aka The maple cresent kingdom as they are located in maple valley they pretend to be fancy but they are actually not

Then theres,The wine seal aka The summer kingdom as they are located in summers valley They are an insane family lets just say that like I really dont understand how in one familiy there could be so much drama and hidden scandelous affairs… yuck and eww first of all

The orange seal aka the blossom kingdom they are wannabes they really dont do anything but steal others ideas and judgement they are just known for their money and are in everyones buisness

The green seal aka The diamond kingdom they are known for their knowledege in science and inventions such as the time machine which they will release late in august along with other weird inventions

The blue seal aka The Enduria family kingdom they are the judges of every council and they know everything and see everything and are freaking unfair

The pink seal aka The furry kingdom they are the ones who run all the hospitals and shops there is as each memeber in the family has a special job

And my least favorite of all the one whos feared the most the black seal aka The scarlett kingdom they are the dangreous who are cursed by their beautiful looks and immmese power

I HATE THEM but I used to love them as my own family as im also arranged to get married with the prince of their kingdom Ethan which I refuse to marry that little womanizer jerk of an ass from what he did

Chills run down my spine not wanting to remember anything about him

Their are many more kingdoms with other colors but they arent as mentioned so I really dont know which color they have

theres only two powerful kingdoms: the yellow seal kingdom our kingdom and the black seal kingdom which are our enemeies now

well my enemy as my parents still talk to them and are friends with them because Im going to marry the kings son Ethan

which I despise and refuse just because the council orders it and my parents and his parents signed a contract and agreed to arrange this marrige when we werent even born yet just for the sake of our kingdoms and I have no say in this

But everything used to be good back then when he was actually nice to me when we where young

I look down at the floor not allowing myself to cry or feel anything toward that jerk as everything I thought we once had is over

“Stand still mi lady"The maids say as they hold on to my waist trying to tighten the corset tighter making me hold in a breath

The only person who ever understood me and was always there for me was Malia my parents right hand who they put incharge of me since I was 9 months old who I have adapted as a second mother

"Come on do it tighter im not hearing her groan Lola "Malia shouts again still roaming inside of the closet for the "perfect” dress as the poor maids tried their hardest to tighten the corset tightly around my waist but couldn’t as they growned in frustration trying to do it Malia’s way

“Leave now im sorry Lola and Katherin but I cant have you guys playing around here go down and help the others clean for the ball its in a couple of hours hurry please” Malia said walking towards me as she laid several dresses on my bed and pointed for the maids to exit the room

They obeyed walking out of the room with they’re head down in agony shutting the door behind them as I huffed out an air it wasn’t even their fault that Malia wants me to suffocate in this

“You are just so pure and innocent you cant always be so nice to people my darling"Malia said making me shake my head as she walks to my backside taking both the strings of the now loosend corset in her hands pulling tightly with every grunt making me groan out and hold in a breath everytime she pulled tighter

"Malia you know I dont think anyone is perfect as I believe that everyone is unique in their own selfish beautiful way but not perfect they could never be and kindness is the key for everything"I argued my point with every chance of breath I took as she huffed on about back there trying to tie a perfect not in which even though it would look perfect it was not it could never be perfect

"Sure sweetie I understand your weird point of view about "perfect and kindness "but im going to have to disagree with you on this one because many people are not going to be kind in this cruel world "Malia said coming out from behind me grinning in satisfaction as she looked up at me putting her arms on top of my shoulder shaking her long glossy manicured fingers in my face

I chose to stay quiet or else the argument would never end.

"Oh the gorgeous dresseses, oh the life of the party you have to live life you have to forget about him and everyone else who is against you because they’re jealous of your beauty and your innocence my dear oh how I wish I was your age again "Malia said twirling around in her golden sparkled gown as she pulled me along with her humming a tune of a song I quite couldn’t catch as she pulled me toward my bed

I looked at it with such saddness remembering how I was ripped out from it at 6 in the morning

Malia took my hand in her soft ones as she looked at all the dresses she laid out neatly on the bed picking the one I dreaded the most

The yellow golden sweetheart gown the one that pushed my boobs up and made me look like a grown woman which was a good thing for Malia who always wanted me to dress like a women but I didnt understand how dressing in such revealing ways was good

"Sweetie I know you don’t want to wear this one but this one will look perfect on you"Malia said bringing the dress above my head as I put my arms up allowing the soft silky dress texture to fall upon my body

"Whats wrong darling "Malia said as she looked at me coming to face me as she pushed my boobs up and fixed my curly hair as it fell nicely pass my shoulders

"Nothing "I said lowly knowing I would have to wear this one no matter how much I argued I put my arms over my chest trying to cover my self

"I really dont know why you are like that you have to stop wearing those little girl dresses you are a 16 year old young woman you have to stand up to those girls who make fun of you and show them you are better than them my darling now turn that frown upside down and smile okay because everything will be fine I hate seeing you this way"Malia said giving me a warm smile

I just stared at the floor knowing I would get a lecture on that and how it is disrespectful to look down when people are talking to you later or maybe she will let this one pass

I knew nothing was going to be fine as I felt the now commotion of ruckus growing in my gut

"What do we still need "Malia said drumming her fingers on her chin as she moved toward my dresser grabbing a couple of makeup items

Walking over to me she set down the items on my bed and grabbed them one by one first the eyeliner then the blush, red lipstick and golden black glittery eyeshadow that matched with my dress when she finished she put the items back in place and passed me a pair of black heels as I sat down on my bed putting them on just for them to be soon covered by my dress

I was now ready for the ball as I sat there on my bed looking at my fingers thinking about my french exam for tuesday.

"Wow you are just so beautiful like always it’s not fair sometimes you know"Malia said playfully falling down onto the bed next to me

It wasnt to long until Malila being Malila started giving me the lesson of the day "boys” breaking me out from my thoughts about my french exam which was more important and which I didn’t want to listen to right now or never actually

After a whole hour of Malia making her point clear to me that boys are nothing and then changing it to the opposite that boys are just amazing but they can be dumb at times and crazy that I should give him a second chance which I knew it wasnt Malila talking beacuse almost every second shes literally thinking on ways to murder him so I really dont know what got into her today we finally then read a few chapters of the classic novel “The Great Gastby” by F. Scott Fitzgerlad to kill time

One of the maids finally came up informing her that my parents have arrived and that everything was now ready for the ball and people had started to make an appearance Malia nodded her head over at her dismissing her from the room

“Finally its 8 "Malia said pulling me up with her off of the bed as she checked to see if everything was once again "perfect” and telling me it was just a ball as we exited the room

But it was not okay it was the 64th annual ball in which in every annual ball something bad occurs last time the girls from my princess teachings class which hate my guts for no reason tripped me and spilled their wine on me infront of every one and then kicked me busting my bottom lip open my parents got so mad that they where about to expell them and her family but they begged that it would never happen again that it was just an accident and now they pretend to be nice to me infront of them and the other time in an annual ball a fight broke down that gunshots were fired and two men died and I dont know how if it was supposedly secured and safe so yeah every theme ball we had never ended well .

We walked toward the stairs as the maids rushed down and up the stairs dressed angelically alike with white and yellow golden dresses making sure everything was in place

Malia took my hand in hers leading me down the stairs

I saw my dear mother and father standing near the entrance looking as elegant as ever my mother wearing also a yellow golden feathery dress with a white silk robe and my dad wearing something similar a golden suit with feathers on the brim of his dress shirt along with his badges and both wearing their royal crowns I could hear my father’s voice booming  with laughter as he talked to one of his close friends Gerald head master wearing his blue suit from the Enduria family kingdom as they hugged and cheered.

I hid closely behind Malia not wanting anyone to set their attention toward me but failed as halfway down the stairs heads turned my way making me look down at my feet

Malia gave everyone a death stare making some snap their head back the other way but many kept their eyes on me and then the place fell quiet and the awes an the gasps erupted in the place along with what I hated the most the murmers

“Realx"Malia said turning her head to me giving me a small smile as she felt my tensed body language

we made it down the staircase and greeted people who stopped to talk to Malia but didnt get too involved in any conversation as Malia rushed me over to my parents

Their eyes widened in happiness once they saw me

My mom eyes got watery as always and they engulfed me and Malia in a tight hug that felt like eternity making me smile as they let go and admired me

"Wow sweetie you look so beautiful oh that dress you are just stunning just like the true princess you are im so sorry we couldn’t be here with you,you know how we have to leave for meetings and the royal buisness please forgive us sweetie ” my mother said as she carressed my cheek these are the same words she always tells me when she sees me

My father grabbed my hand twirling me around suddenly and started dancing around with me on the marbled floor moving in circles with me making me laugh as we stopped and he kissed my hand and bowed down as I curtsied and he hugged me tightly again

we walked further down inside the ball admiring the beautiful roses and lilies that adorned the place and the chandeliers above us that lightened up the room the beautiful music of the violins strings played soft music as the guests wore their gorgeous seal colored gown as colors blossomed wherever you looked a group of red, orange, purple and many more envolved in conversations dancing, laughing and cheering

As we passed by them they bowed and curtised infront of my father and mother when I passed by them many looked at me badly and some smiled at me

I look down as my dad and Malia walked closer next to me not letting my sensitive heart think to much about it my mother moved her soft fingers through my hair and whispered sweet nothings in my ear

I never will understand why they disliked me so much when I don’t even talk and for starters I never did nothing to them

Malila and my parents always tell me they envy me because of how smart and gorgeous of a girl I am but these people have made me so insecure about myself that make me not see it I don’t even know what to think anymore

“It will soon be over ” I said queitley to myself as I balled my fingers into small fists

A waitress dressed in half black and white suit came by my parents and Malia offering them a glass of some fine wine they took it happily and we continued on walking as people made way for them bowing their head and going back to their gossip and dancing

I really dont understand why so much gossip they are supposed to enjoy the ball not talk badly of others

“Ahem” a deep dark voice suddenly cleared their throat

Making Everyone turn around toward the big double crystal doors following and searching for the deep voice

Three men dressed in black sparkly suit with masks all with crowns which meant- wait no no no it cant be

I rose an eyebrow shaking my head as the feeling in my gut got worse and something told me it was them but I didnt want to beleive what my mind was telling me I just didnt

“Huh I think they have the wrong party its not a masqurade ball that was last time” I said lowly to Malia as my father and mother hid me and Malila behind them

Malia was now pale as all the color from her face has drained as she kept looking at me and back to the three men that had made an entrance and in a swift of a motion the air had gotten so silent you could’ve cut it with a knife and the cheering and laughing of the people diminished as the music now turned into a dramatic orchestra and everyones facial expression was unreadable

“Whats going on ” I said lowly my voice shaky as Malia tried giving me a reassuring smile holding on to my hand tightly as my father whispered something to her and she nodded looking toward the big staircase in the far east side of the ballroom as she blocked each view from where I could see who was there making me furrow my eyebrows but she missed a spot as I peeked through the little space between my fathers shoulder wanting to know who had made this grand affect on everyone

“Oh no” I gasped shaking my head as my heart sank down to the floor making me breath heavily as everyones eyes where on us and thats when Malia pulled me with her as we ran toward the staircase but five man dressed in black sparkly suits and black masks jumped out from behind the staircase and blocked us from going anywhere and surrounding each exsit

And thats when it got to me that It was them James the king of the Scarlett kingdom the black seal and his son “Prince charming” Ethan along with his twin Grayson and his dark horse minions that were like lethal weapons with such skills that kill people for fun