#and i cried for an entire day because i had missed cleaning her cage and thought i had somehow killed her (that’s just their lifespan sadly)

[m1ckeyb3rry]

everyone is always like “why don’t hamsters ever die normal deaths” they do actually!! people just think that small animals don’t have feelings so they find it funny to talk about them dying in gruesome ways.

[i-didnt-realize]

TW: THIS ABSOLUTELY QUALIFIES AS A RANT OF SOME SORT

Some backstory: I didn't think too much into it when I was younger, but there was a time where my mom took me and my siblings and we ran away from home to escape my father before. The dog even came outside to run with us. The cops came but we did not go home that night. My father had thrown an entire ACTIVE deep fryer at my mother. food and oil flew everywhere and my mother was burned. I think everyone cried. I was the oldest, 10 at the time. Everything genuinely fell apart when I was 10/11. My mom was called to Cuba by the military for 9 months. We were left to live with the monster the entire time.

Things I could have realized were not good, but didn't understand at the time.

Contact with our mom was severely limited and always monitored. We were instructed to instead "write notes" to her and place them in a jar. The notes were monitored as well. We had to write in front of him. Secretly, at night, I would creep downstairs to write personal notes. Later on, these notes were removed, as I could not find them afterwards. Any notes that did not state we were happy and having fun while she was away were removed, even if the notes said we missed our mother.

A curtain was installed that led from our garage door to our father's room. This was used to sneak a girl in.

We were no longer allowed to freely access basic items in our home. Access to the garage was not allowed, which is were any and all art supplies, paper, pencils, and other school supplies were located. We had to be given permission to retrieve our bicycles or other outdoor toys(I learned this the hard way when I needed paper for my homework assignment and found an unrecognizable car in our garage).

I was suddenly a slave in my home. I was in charge of cleaning the entire home, cook meals, and take care of my younger siblings. I was also in charge of caring for our pets. One dog was too "hyper" and I was instructed to keep her in a kennel and in my room alone. She was not to leave that bedroom, and was to be let out to eat and pee twice a day on a mat on my carpet. I had various alarms set throughout the night to ensure that the dog did not pee or poop in the cage. I was always sleep deprived then, and had to attend public school. I had only attended actual public schooling once in the 3rd grade, because my mother had to attend a training service and could not homeschool us. Because of this, middle school was not kind to me, particularly when joining mid year.

I was supposed to walk 2 miles home through two pretty bad neighborhoods if my father decided he did not want to pick me up from school that day. About a third of the way there, the sidewalk ends. He refused to take me to the dance classes I had been attending previous to my mom's deployment, so my mom payed someone to drive me from school to there. I was always the last to be picked up by a parent, and sometimes after closing hours. I was then dropped off at home to clean and prepare meals. My younger brothers were taken to gymnastics by him with no issue. This did not seem out of the ordinary to me at newly 11.

I was signed up in a program at my school to stay after the school closes in the cafeteria until our parent arrive. There were many times where I was told I would not be picked up(on day I did not dance) three hours after shut down. I now understand why the staff often asked about my home life. There was a thunderstorm one evening, and I had made a painting, seeing as I was called and told I would stay put until the program closed. I was later called, 5 minutes before closure, and told to walk home in the storm. I did. I was soaked and approached by four different vehicles asking if I needed a ride. I walked the entire time. The chores and meal were still expected.

[meher-sumedha]

Nessian Headcanon : T-shirts and Baby

Just a bit contribution from my side for Nessian Week. Also my first time writing Nessian so forgive me. Please. Also I'm very bad at writing titles so again, I ask for your forgiveness. Also I just went with the flow. Again - I'm sorry.

Cassian was injured. Badly. He and Nesta had gone to Illyria for a mission. And they'd encountered some lords and brutes who were definitely angry with Rhys' new policies.

It's not that Cassian couldn't fight them, no, it was not that. It was that he didn't want to fight them with Nesta around. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to his mate.

Nesta was pissed when they called Cassian words like Bastard and Mindless brute. She couldn't be more mad at him for not letting her fight. She growled at all of those fucking bastards, but Cassian maintained his cool. It was like he didn't care about those words.

But she did. She knew Cassian worked his ass off to maintain their legions. She knew he stayed up late just so that they would prevent another war. And all she wanted to do was kill all of these bastards because of their ungratefulness.

But she kept quiet. Knowing how uneasy even Cassian was, for she was pregnant. Rhys had covered her scent so that none of the Illyrians would know and try to harm her, not that they wouldn't right now either.

One guy, one guy had dared to call Nesta a slut. Nesta didn't mind that, she had heard a lot of shit in her life. But apparently Cassian did.

His angered raged, just trying to get out when that piece of shit called Nesta, a slut. So all he could do to prevent himself from doing anything and bringing any more danger to Nesta, he took Nesta in his arms and dropped her off at the house of Wind.

Nesta was taken by surprise when Cassian did that. But then she remembered what that guy had called her. They then arrived at the balcony in the house of wind and just as Nesta started to say something, Cassian left.

Leaving her all alone.

Now it was 3 days later, and Cassian had still not returned. Nesta had informed everyone. Rhysand, Azriel and who else. All of them had searched for Cassian in Illyria, in Velaris, in the entire fucking night court. And still no sign of Cassian.

And then, when Nesta was still in her room, in Cassian's t-shirt. All alone. She never wore his t-shirt, always said it smelled. One day Cassian had just taken off his t-shirt and had thrown it at her head -

She huffed, taking the t-shirt away from her face and throwing it back at him. Cassian simply laughed and said, "What" And had thrown it back at her. Nesta hissed and stopped it with her hands and threw it back at him. "I am not a fucking hanger, the bucket for dirty clothes is in the bathroom. "

Cassian had simply laughed at that before getting under the covers and saying, "What, I thought you girls wore our t-shirts, " Nesta simply rolled her eyes before wearing a new t-shirt of his and getting under his covers. "Uhm no thank you. Why the hell would I want to wear your t-shirt?",

"Maybe to smell it?" And nesta had simply scoffed at that. "You know what, I am not wearing your dirty clothes. But I'll do you a favor, I'll wear your clean t-shirt so that it has my scent. And so that you remember to not flirt with any girl, as you know I would kill you."

Cassian had simply climbed over Nesta and tug a strand of hair behind her ear, he then whispered in his husky voice, "why thank you, your highness. But you should know, I'd never flirt with any girl beside you. And tonight, I think I'm in a mood for some action, and not just flirting. "

And as soon as he said that, he noticed the sudden change in her scent. He smirked against her neck and started kissing it. Slowly going way down. Nesta's body arched upwards, in want of any friction.

And Cassian smirked and whispered, "Calm down love, I promise I'll fuck you so hard tonight, that you'll see stars. " And he had rightfully kept that promise.

That was also the way their baby was concieved.

Suddenly Nesta was thrown out of her trance when she saw Gwyn shaking her. She suddenly got up and followed Gwyn out of their room. And she almost gasped when she saw the sight in front of her.

Gwyn had to literally hold Nesta's hands in place to make sure she didn't actually kill Cassian. Nesta tried to get out of her hold, but knew Gwyn was strong. So she took a long breath, and tried to calm her racing heart, "Where the hell were you" She asked with a deadly calm, and it wasn't a request, it was demand.

Cassian then slowly walked up to her, his arms and legs covered in bandages. He walked with his head held high, and a smirk on his face. He then stood right in front of Nesta, his face an inch away from hers. He grinned and asked, "Miss me Nes?"

And at that moment, Nesta sprang out of Gwyn's hold, and slapped Cassian. It was a hard one, and Cassian's cheeks were red.

As soon as she did that, she gasped and her hand shot to her mouth. She saw Azriel and Gwyn walk out of the room slowly, and she was too shocked by her own actions to even stop them.

But then Cassian simply chuckled, and met her surprised gaze, he then had the audacity to say, "Really Nes? Looks like you've become rusty." And then he saw the anger raging behind Nesta's eyes. Exactly what he'd wanted. He didn't want her to become emotionless.

He wanted some kind of emotion from her, so that she wouldn't go back to her cage. Even if he had to get slapped a million more times, he would do anything to get any emotion from Nesta.

And then Nesta started punching him in his chest. Grunting while saying curses. "How dare you (push) I have been alone since three days (push), Carrying our fucking child, (push)-" And with each word her punches became more violent. Nesta didn't know how to project her emotions, so the only way she did that, was with anger.

She punched him, and didn't even realize she was crying when she backed him into a wall and he stopped her hands, "Nes, Nes, NES" And he forced her crying eyes to look at him. And he saw the hurt that was there.

He saw the girl that was genuinely afraid behind those eyes. Afraid for him. And she stopped. He then smiled sadly, and cleaned her tears with one hand, his other holding her hands.

Nesta then broke down, with a broken voice and endless tears leaving her eyes, "You were gone Cass, you were gone and you-you left me alone. "

She said and Cassian slowly brought her in for a hug, she hugged him tightly, wrapping her arms around his waist, tucking her head under his. She cried into his chest, and that broke Cassian's heart. "Please-please don't leave me again."

She said and Cassian made her look at him. "Love, I would never, ever leave you. I would never leave you or our baby girl." He said and Nesta gasped. He then smiled at her, he knew he had just dropped the girl bomb on her. And then they heard Gwyn gasp from behind the door and they both chuckled. "She's a busybody isn't she?" Cassian chuckled and said.

Nesta then laughed, a free laugh and moved away from him gasping. "Oh oh my god. It's- I -we're, we're having a girl." She said, still laughing like she didn't have a care in the world, her hands over her knees. Her eyes filled with happy tears. A sight Cassian would die to see again.

Nesta then stopped laughing and looked at him with such love in her eyes that melted Cassian's heart. "We're having a girl" She said, never leaving his gaze, a smile on her face. "We're having a girl" Cassian said, mirroring her own smile. He then walked up to her, sighed and captured her lips in his own.

The kiss was so soft yet so rushed. They kissed and kissed and Nesta tangled her hand in his hair and Cassian wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. At one moment they even heard Gwyn sigh happily from outside the door and Nesta smiled into their kiss.

Nesta then broke the kiss and said, "She really is a busybody." Before resuming the kiss. This time, it was Cassian's turn to smile into the kiss. For he was ready to start their new life, with their baby girl.

A/N : Sorry if you didn't like it. It's my first time writing Nessian.

[bleep-bleep-richie]

part one

part two

He's not panicking.

Just because he knows Eddie had court at 9am and they had plans to talk at lunch, and it's now 7pm and he still hasn't called.

Nope, definitely not panicking.

He isn't pacing the apartment either. No, he's just taking a leisurely stroll back and forth across his living room. There's just nothing good on TV. He isn't panicking, there's no reason to panic.

He had texted him at 1 and, after getting no answer, again at 5. He picks his phone up where he'd thrown it not even five minutes ago face down on the couch. He swipes his way to his messages.

Nothing.

He clicks "💖Edwardo💖" and scrolls through their messages from the last couple days. He sighs and clicks the text box.

Hey, I'm gonna stay up until I hear from you, so call me whenever.

He sends it and throws the phone to the side, collapsing against the back of his sofa. He picks up his laptop, clicks on the video chat app, and stares at the stupid picture Eddie had chosen as his icon. The edge of his mouth lifts in spite of the sick churning in his stomach. "Eddie fucking Kaspbrak," he mumbles with a shake of his head. He's still looking at Eddie's picture when he starts to doze off.

He has no idea how much time has gone by when he's woken up by the sound of a call coming through his computer. His vision's blurry, he pushes his glasses back up on his face, and sees Eddie's smile way too close to the camera. He accepts the call. "What the fuck, man?"

"Richie!" Eddie cries. "Did I wake you? You said you were staying up."

Richie stretches and yawns before picking the laptop up and putting it on his coffee table. "Guess I fell asleep." He narrows his eyes. "Where are you?"

"Out! With Matt!"

Richie wants to ask who the hell Matt is but the camera is on the guy before he gets the chance.

"Look, Matt, it's my boyfriend," he hears Eddie say, "the guy I was telling you about!"

Richie has a moment of disconnect. "Uh," he says cleverly.

Matt leans closer. "Wait, holy shit, you really are Richie Tozier." He grins. "When Eddie said he was dating a celebrity, I didn't believe him."

"Fuck you!"

"Uh, hi?" Richie says. He's still reeling from 'boyfriend' and 'dating.' "Sorry, who are you again?"

Eddie turns the phone back, his face swims into view unsteadily. "My new manager! I hired him last week, he's gonna manage the New York branch when I leave."

"Okay, you're screaming."

"I'm celebrating!" he yells, raising a glass. He knocks it back and drains it to prove his point.

It's loud, Richie can hear the sounds of other people talking and laughing. He guesses they're in a bar. "Can you go outside or something? I can barely hear you."

Eddie's nodding as he gets to his feet. "Shit, yeah, sorry," he says when he swallows. "Matt, I'll be right back."

"Take your time, boss. Nice to meet you, Mr. Tozier!"

Richie makes a face. "Did he just call me Mister Tozier?"

Eddie laughs. He leans against the cool bricks of the building once he gets outside. "Yeah, he's like that."

"So," Richie starts after a beat, "how'd it go?"

"Oh! We found a place!"

"A place?"

"Yeah, an office building," Eddie replies excitedly. "Matt found it on the computer. And! He put up an ad for people to email me their resumes. It was so much easier than I was making it, big shocker there, right."

Richie tilts his head for a second. "That's fantastic, Eds, but what about court?"

"Oh, oh! Richie!" Eddie's smile splits his face. "She signed the papers! She dropped everything she was asking for, a share in the company, all the alimony. She told me on the way out it's because she's already engaged, and all I could think was 'that poor schmuck." He laughs, open and cheerful. Richie doesn't know if he's ever seen him so happy.

"Wow, that's awesome. Congratulations."

Something in his voice must give him away. Eddie's eyes soften and his smile fades. "Oh, Rich, I'm so sorry. I was supposed to call. I was just so excited to get everything done, we worked right through lunch. I'm booking a flight to LA tomorrow. Richie, we're going to he together before the end of the week." His eyes are so bright and happy, Richie wants to drown himself in them.

"That's- Wow, Eds, that's amazing." He pauses. "You're amazing." Eddie's eyes start to water and Richie figures he must be way drunker than he's letting on. "Wait, how are you video chatting from your phone?"

Eddie blinks. "Oh, there's an app for it."

"Yes, I know there's an app for it. How in the hell did you know there was an app for it? The only app you have on your phone is a calculator."

"Matt downloaded it for me. I saw your text and mentioned I needed to call you, so he showed me how to do it."

"That's great," Richie says flatly. "Matt's great."

"Yeah, he really is a whiz at the technology stuff."

"That's what happens when you hire a 20 year old."

"He's 25." He considers Richie a moment. "Wait, what was that?"

"What was what?"

Eddie eyes him. "That tone was hostile and, like, jealous. Are you-"

"I'm definitely not jealous."

Eddie's eyes widen. "You're lying! That's your lying face!"

"I have a lying face?" Richie asks, raising his eyebrows.

"You do, and you're making it right now. Why would you be jealous of Matt?"

"I'm not!" he protests. He sighs. "I dunno, man, it's just like, the most important day of your life and that's who you're celebrating with."

"Richie," Eddie says. His voice is gentle, like trying to coax a wild animal into a cage. It makes Richie want to punch a wall at how ridiculously easy it is for Eddie to turn him to mush. "I would rather celebrate with you than anyone in the world. But, baby, you're not here."

Richie's mind short circuits so hard over the word 'baby' that it takes him a full 30 seconds to process the rest of that sentence. He scoffs a laugh, completely humorless. "Yeah, and whose fault is that?"

Eddie's face crumbles and he looks down and away from the camera, like he's ashamed. Like Richie is embarrassing him.

He instantly feels like a jackass. "I'm sorry, Eds, I'm not trying to rain on your parade. I was just worried, when you didn't call."

"I said I was sorry. I got busy."

"I texted you three times," Richie replies. He feels like a petulant housewife who spent all day cooking a dinner that her husband never came home to eat. He guesses that's exactly how he sounds, too.

Eddie turns his sad eyes on Richie. "I didn't even look at my phone until like fifteen minutes ago. I called as soon as I saw them."

"I know, I know." He shakes his head. "'I'm sorry, 'm being a dick."

Eddie smirks. "Imagine that."

Richie breathes out his nose and wills himself not to be angry. Always understanding, never upset. Always with a joke but never with a complaint. How he's been all year, all his life with Eddie, if he's honest with himself. Never too emotional or serious, just in case it overwhelms. "I'll let you get back. Just let me know when you book your flight, I'll clean the guest room."

"The guest room?" Eddie's face falls. "I have to sleep in my own room? You're that mad that I forgot to call?"

"No, it's not- I just didn't want to assume-"

"Or is it because I'm out with Matt?" Eddie continues like Richie hadn't even spoken. "Because I barely even know him, Rich. I was just in a good mood and we both needed to eat. It doesn't- I don't know if he's even gay."

Richie feels green. "He's cute," he says neutrally. "He's there. You're drunk."

"Richie."

He shakes his head, rubs his palms against the denim on his knees. "I know, I know. I'm being stupid because I miss you and I missed today and I- I'm sorry."

Eddie eyes go big and wistful. "I would never- Rich, I've spent the entire time since I've met him waxing poetic about you. Besides business shit, you're the only thing we've talked about. He's probably getting sick of it, honestly."

The sudden leap of his stomach makes him want to puke. "It's okay, Eds, you don't have to-"

"Richie," Eddie cuts him off. He pulls the phone closer to his face. "Richie, I'm crazy about you. You know, sometimes-" He laughs, blushes, glances away for a second. Richie wants to look at him forever. "Somtimes after we hang up, I jerk off to the memory of the sound of your voice. It's kind of pathetic. I'm completely gone on you, is the point I'm making."

"I-" he stops himself. He'd sworn at least a hundred times over the passed year that he wasn't going to say it until Eddie is in front of him. And he's going to keep that promise. "You're- you're everything, sweetheart. I- You know how I feel about you, don't you, Eddie?"

Eddie's smile is blinding. "Yeah, I think you waiting on me for almost a year while I got my shit together is a pretty big clue."

Richie grins back.

"I have to go settle the tab," Eddie says after a moment.

"You could call me," Richie tells him, "when you get back to your room. Jerk off to my actual voice, instead of the memory. I could say something worth jerking off to."

Pink rises on Eddie's cheekbones and flushes down onto his neck, right where Richie wants to bite him. "Thanks, now I have to go back in there at half mast."

"Oh, you are so very welcome. No need to thank me. The pleasure's all mine, really." The sad thing is, he isn't lying. Nothing gets him going faster than the mere idea that Eddie wants him. The evidence of it, the confession, has him rock hard in his pants already.

"You're insufferable."

"Insatiable, Edward. The word is insatiable."

Eddie rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "I'm going to call you in 45 minutes," he promises.

Richie nods. "I'll have my script ready. The never ending list of things I'd do to corrupt the pure and innocent Eddie Kaspbrak."

"Insufferable!" He pauses, still smiling even though he's griping. "45 minutes."

"I'll be here, Eds." He flushes with the honesty of it. "I'll always be here."

[marvelgiggles]

Learning to Be Loved

Chapter 4

This is a TICKLE SERIES!!! If you aren’t interested please keep scrolling.

You could not believe what you just heard. 

JARVIS had alerted you that you had to go to the living room and when you did you saw everyone sitting there. You picked up some tension in the room and your brain immediately went to you doing something wrong and now you were going to get kicked back out on the streets. 

You nervously sat down no the couch in a tense position, Bucky noticed it and wrapped you in a hug helping you nerves slightly. 

“Okay, Y/N we have some news to tell you.” Tony said seriously making your nerves spike up again. 

“There is a mission we all have to go on for a couple days.” Steve informed you. Wait all of them? Who was going to keep you company, Peter was gone on a school trip so you were going to be all by yourself in this huge compound you now called home.

“We’re sorry Y/N but we just found a few hours ago.” Bucky whispered in your ear causing you to giggle a little bit. “Are your ears ticklish too?” Bucky whispered again and then blew in your ear causing you to squeal. Thankfully he didn’t continue because you weren’t really in the mood to be tickled so he just snuggled you closer.

“So we decided to spend the entire day unplugged and as a family. So what do you want to do Y/N?” Nat asked you putting you on the spot. You didn’t want to pick something someone didn’t want to do.

“Nothing you pick is going to upset anyone.” Bucky assured you rubbing you arm up and down, but you were still to nervous to say anything in fear of upsetting someone else. 

“Wanna have a water balloon fight?” Tony says hoping to get you to agree to something someone else picked and plus New York was going through a little heat wave in the beginning of September. You smiled and nodded your head. “Go get changed then.” You bolted off the couch clearly excited to play you changed into a swimsuit but changed into a larger t-shirt to cover your swimsuit.

Once you stepped out into the yard you were quickly splashed with a water balloon hitting you in the shoulder. You screamed not expecting to get hit that quickly, also understanding that the Avengers didn’t show any type of mercy when it came to games like this. Although you’ve learned the Avengers as a group were really competitive. 

You heard what could only be described as a battle cry and suddenly Steve was in front of you, like a shield and wrapped an arm around your waist and picked you up. “No I must protect Y/N at all costs.” You giggled at his childishness. The other thing you loved about living here was how playful everyone could be. They knew when to be serious but more often than not it was super light hearted and playful around the compound. 

Steve carried you to safety and handed you some water balloons. “Give ‘em hell Y/N.” He smirked and then ran off to drench people with water. You saw Nat run by away from Clint and you went to toss a water balloon at her, thankfully you hit right on the mark and she made eye contact with you. You squealed and took off running from her, which then lead you getting hit by another water balloon from Tony.

This fight was becoming an epic battle and you were getting a little tired from all the running around and from throwing all the balloons. Then you had a genius idea to probably win the entire war, you had to be sneaky though otherwise you didn’t think this plan was going to work.  You made your way to the side of the compound with the water hose, you quietly unraveled it and turned the crank the knob and aimed.

Everyone screamed as you soaked them all with water from the hose, you laughed at their reaction and you continued to spray the hose back and forth making sure that you got everyone. You noticed you didn’t see Steve when suddenly you were wrapped up in a bear hug, you screamed from the surprise and from the coldness from him being soaking wet with water. “You little cheater and to think I helped you.” 

Then you saw Bucky slowly walk toward you with an evil grin on his face. You knew what was coming and tried to get out of Steve’s arms but you stood no chance. “We don’t tolerate cheating here Y/N, you must be punished!” Bucky said as he quickly grabbed your foot in his metal arm and dragged his finger down your foot. 

“Bucky!” You screamed then burst into laughter, you tried to kick your leg but Bucky held it firm and your other leg wasn’t going to help you. Then you felt Bucky grab one of your toes and you screamed louder and you were now trying to kick your other leg to make Bucky let go. 

“You never run out of ticklish spots do you bug?” Bucky smiled at you at his nickname for you, he was the one who found out you liked to cuddle, gave you the nickname Cuddlebug but when everyone else started to call you that, he had to come up one that was just for him so he shortened it to bug. Once Bucky played with all of your toes on one foot, he grabbed your other one, “we can’t have the other feel left out can we?” Then started to tickle your toes on that foot causing the same reaction as before, finally he got to playing with your last toe. 

You also started to feel the arms around you loosen but you were being gently put on the ground and you were looking up at Steve and Tony. “Even though we found a new spot there are some old good ones.” Steve smiled at you and went straight for your sides causing you to giggle sweetly and try to twist away, even though you really didn’t want to. One hand was poking rapidly up and down while the other was massaging your side. The two different sensations were incredibly ticklish.

“Yup still a good one.” Tony said, “But so is this one,” as he inserted his face in your neck and started to rub his beard around everywhere. You squealed louder and started to laugh more frantically.

“Tohohohony!” You cried trying to squish his head out of your head but that only opened up the other side for him to torment. 

“Yes pipsqueak?” He whispered in your ear flowed by a small puff of air. You also choked on your salvia from the scream that worked it’s way through your throat, but it also didn’t help that Steve also moved his hands to the bottom of your rib cage. 

“Now Y/N, Queens told me you have a pretty good ticklish spot on your ribs, wanna tell me where it is?” Steve teased you evilly but you were laughing to hard to answer him. “Okay, I just I’m going to have to find it myself.” He started to vibrate his fingers all over your rib cage frantically and quickly to try and find the spot he was talking about. When he finally found it you let a loud scream. “Oh, Queens was right this is fun.” Thankfully, Steve had some mercy on you not wanting to get too carried away and he let you breath for a little bit. But because Steve was still sitting above your waist you couldn’t see Sam sneak over. 

You suddenly felt someone squeeze your knees, you screamed again, and let out your favorite deep laughter. “SAM!” You yelled before you were kicking your legs in every direction you could with Steve still hovering above you. It didn’t take long for your laughter to become silent causing Sam to stop.

“Sorry rugrat, but I couldn’t miss the opportunity.” He said with a quick kiss to your forehead. Tony let you go and Steve got up as well. You were still laying on the ground recovering from your tickles but then you felt two hands under your arms, which caused your Tickle Me Elmo giggles to come out but it was just Tony helping you stand back up. 

“Pizza and a movie sound okay there pipsqueak.” Tony asked you and you were still giggling from early so you just nodded your head. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, “Go on and get cleaned up. We will be in the movie room when you are done.”

———————

After the chaotic water ballon fight and the torturous tickles you received you all went your respective ways to clean yourselves up before the pizza came. You all met up in the movie room, which you found both of the large sectional arranged in a U shape that all of you could fit on. You went to curl up in one of the corners but Tony sat next to you and pulled you away from the corner to curl you up in his arms with a kiss to your hair. 

“Kay, pipsqueak what movie do you wanna watch?”

“Can we watch the Parent Trap?” You asked boldly yet still quietly, you then heard a loud groan from Steve, you instantly curled into yourself a little more and felt bad. Steve probably hated that movie and you had just picked that for him to sit through. 

Tony instantly picked up on your change of mood. “Hey, don’t listen to Cap. He doesn’t know a good movie that isn’t from the 40’s.”

“No, it’s okay we can watch something else.” You said quietly picking at your fingernails, but you were a little disappointed because it was one of your favorite movies.  

“How do I burn the toast. EVERY. TIME!” Steve yelled from the kitchen. You started to giggle at Steve’s constant ability to fail at doing something as making a piece of toast. He walked into the movie room and you giggled slightly as you saw his facial expression of annoyance. He gave you a look knowing that you were in trouble, you clung tighter to Tony in hopes that he wouldn’t be able to get you but you were easily snatched from Tony.

“Is my misery funny to you Y/N?” He whispered in your ear while starting to claw at your tummy. You began to giggle sweetly and weakly try to bat his hands away from your tummy. “And you think your funny trying to get away?” He put his nose into your neck and started rubbing it all around causing you to break out in laughter trying a little more desperately to get away.

Tony grabs you away from Steve. “Leave my baby alone.” Tony pulled you tight into his chest and wrapped his strong arms around you. Suddenly you felt fingers brush through your hair, that was something new but you loved it, it was so relaxing and comforting. Soon you were quickly asleep halfway through the movie cuddled up in Tony’s arms. 

———————

“Y/N wake up.” Bucky gently shook your shoulder. You groaned not wanting to get up and face saying goodbye to everyone and being left alone. “Come on, we have a surprise for you downstairs.” You could hear the excitement in his voice but it still didn’t make you want to get up. “Fine, I’ll resort to other measures.” He quickly blew a raspberry in your neck you squeal and tried to bury yourself under your pillow and blankets.

Bucky laughed at your reaction and yanked your blankets off you causing you to whine at the sudden coldness. He quickly squeezed your ribs a little making you try to squirm away while giggling adorably according to Bucky. “Come on, we have a really good surprise for you downstairs.” He stopped tickling you pretty quickly but continued to sit by your side. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride downstairs.” 

You smiled and quickly nodded. Bucky stood up and you launched yourself off your bed onto his back, he grunted at the sudden impact but started his way downstairs. “You pack a real punch Y/N, I’m gonna have to teach you how to fight soon.” 

He took you to one of the rooms that supplied all of the Avengers gear and uniforms for the missions. Everyone was eagerly waiting for you, you could tell Tony was the most excited because he couldn’t stop moving. 

“Sorry I’m a little late, someone didn’t want to get out of bed.” Bucky teased with squeezing the back of your thighs by your knees. You instantly belly laughed and started to kick both of your legs until he set you down on your feet. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry that we have to all go on a mission the same weekend Peter’s on a school trip but we don’t want you to be alone so we got you some more company.” Tony explained. You looked around the room confused when you didn’t see anyone new in the group. “Go open my locker.” He smiled nodding in the right direction.

You were a little nervous it was some kind of practical joke but when you opened the locker a little ball of fluff attacked your lower legs. You squealed and dropped down to the floor letting your new companion lick at your face.

“You got me a puppy?” You were shocked and so happy because you always wanted a puppy. 

Especially a golden retriever puppy.

“Well yeah, we can’t have you worrying about us day and night can we?” Steve chuckled at your reaction.

You were giggling as your new puppy kept licking your face and neck and it sort of tickled too further adding to your giggles. 

“What are you going to name him?” Tony asked clearly happy at your reaction to the puppy. 

You thought about it for a while as you got the puppy to stop licking your face. He was now cradled in your arms as you were giving him belly rubs. “Solider.” 

“Perfect.” Steve exclaimed giving you a kiss on the head. “I don’t wanna ruin the moment but we really do have to get going.” 

Everyone gave you a hug or kiss goodbye before making their way to the jet. Tony wanted to make sure that he was the last one to say goodbye. “See you later pipsqueak, everything little Solider needs is in the closet next to your room. If we can we are going to try FaceTime you at night but I can’t promise anything. I love you.” Tony said before he gave you a longing kiss on your forehead. You watched the QuinJet fly off into the distance but before you could get too lost in thought Solider let out a little yip.

“Okay boy, what should we do?” You set him on the ground and watch him clumsily try to make his way further into the house, having him would definitely keep you occupied until your family came back.  

[alice-angel12x]

💔Gem!Deku x Gem!Reader

"You think this is the place?" Asked a rouge.

"Yep, that's what our sources tell us," Said another.

"You got the cages and rope ready," The leader asked.

"Yeah of course, but why did we bring this dead weight," A low Lackie asked kicking a tarp-covered cage.

"Because this dead weight is our bait. Those rocks have a soft spot for their own kind, especially the weaker and fragile ones," The leader said as he ripped the tarp away.

Revealing a bound Phosphophyllite gem with messy dark green hair and green eyes. His wrists and ankles were tied together, and a piece of cloth was wrapped around his mouth.

"You know the drill, right Deku," The leader smiled cruelly.

"MMhhm! NNmph!" Deku tried to scream.

The Trappers grabbed the helpless gem as they descended into the caves.

The Kessho people, or gem people many humans call them. Being made entirely of crystals of all kinds, they are highly sought after by humans. Because their entire body was made of pure and untainted crystals, many hunters seek these beauties. For things from jewelry to weapons, or just want a shiny servent, many reasons.

So the gems hide in many places of the world, from small islands to deep underground tunnels and caves. Anywhere out of human reach.

-------

Please. I don't want any part of this. Please let me go! I tried to cry out but I couldn't with the gag in the way. The memories of previous raids started resurfacing. They would use gems like me to lure others out of hiding, for what reason they help me varies. Some communities of gem had an elitist-like community, or even ones made up of one kind of gems. But when they got close they were ambushed and locked away in cages. They would after be turned into weapons and jewelry.

"Here, place him here," The leader Rato said.

They placed me down near a ledge and ripped away from my gag. Looking over I could see two gems walking by down below. I tried to stay as quiet and still as I could so they wouldn't notice me.

"Deku's too quiet," Rato growled.

He stomped on my hand shattering it. I could hold back the pain as I cried out, it echoed throughout the cave. Looking down at the gems below they quickly spotted me and ran away. Good at least they won't get caught.

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

Suddenly there was a rustle and a-

"SMASH!!" shouted a large gem.

The gem delivered a powerful punch knocking three of the rouges away. Deku stared in awe at the scene and the powerful gem with a brave smile on his face, but the wind was so strong that Deku was blown off the edge. Time seemed to slow as he watches the edge grow farther and farther away. Deku shut his eyes closed waiting for his painful end When an f/c blurr caught him.

"Are you alright?" Asked a kind voice.

Deku looked up to his hero to be meet E/c eyes with their hair the same color to match. His eyes sparkled as his hero's hair Glimmered beautifully in the moonlight. He looked down to see he was being held bridle style.

"Y-yes," Deku stuttered bashfully.

"Don't worry your safe now, as long as your under All Mights protection you have nothing to fear," The (gem type) smiled.

But Deku couldn't help but just stare at this new gem as an infatuation grew. His captures were long dealt with as the new group of gems escorted him back to their hidden home.

"u-um who are you?" Deku asked the mysterious G/t(gem type).

"Well my friends like to call me Y/n," they smiled as they untied Deku.

"I-I'm Deku," He said with a beet-red face.

"Pleasure to meet you Deku," Y/n greeted as they handed him over to other gems.

"Ochaco, Momo this is Deku. Please get him property clothed and make sure he feels welcomed," All Might a Yellow diamond smiled. (No not that one)

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

From that day on I have lived with these Gems for the past 300 years, and my feelings for Y/n only grew. They were so brave and confident, was also one of the greatest fighters in the village. One of the few gems trained under All Might. Sadly cause I only have a toughness scale of 3, so I wasn't suited for combat.

Though All Might noticed that I was very observant and good with notes, so he assigned me to the encyclopedia. My job is to take notes of the enemies we encounter and record events. Then there were some books about stuff I made up, humans would call them fantasies or stories. Though I didn't mind this being my job cause Y/n would come by and read my works. I couldn't help but feel lighter than air and embarrassed at the same time as they were reading my work.

Y/n would always come in after her patrol, come in and read, or more often just sit down and talk to me. Though most of the time it was just him listening to whatever good memories of the human world, or my memories of my original home.

I tried to keep my feeling to myself the best I could by just doodling in my private book, just for my eyes only, but I guess I wasn't secret enough.

"Wow dude, you really have a thing for Y/n," said a voice.

I gasped as I jumped back to see it was Denki, who quickly snatched my drawing book and speed through my embarrassing drawings.

"Wow, you've got it bad. All these drawings are of Y/n and you being lovey-dovey," He said out loud.

Attracting the attention of Iida the Topaz and Ochaco the pink diamond ( No not that one you SU fans). They quickly came over and looked through my book.

"Wow, looks like Touya has a love rival," Ochaco gasped.

Touya the padparadscha gem, was also one of the top fighters for the village and is always Y/n's patrol partner, who was also pinning after them too. There would be times he would just randomly jump into our conversation and steal their attention. But I couldn't hear what they were saying as I covered my ears in embarrassment.

"Oh no, Y/n forgot their other sword," Momo gasped.

"I'll take it to them!" I offered as I quickly grabbed the weapon and ran out of the library.

"Does he know  where Y/n and Touya are?" Momo asked.

"It even notes was Y/n patrols today," Denki said flipping through the pages not paying attention.

----------

Y/n and Touya stood guard at one of the cave entrances, as the warm sunlight funneled through. Y/n smiled as she felt the warm light on her powered covered surface.

"Hey Y/n, do you ever wonder what could be on the surface?" Touya asked.

"Ever since Deku came and told me stories of the surface, it only fueled my imagination," Y/n turned to her trusted partner.

"One day we'll be the ones on top, and I'll take you all over the surface. Just you and me," Touya said with confidence.

" That's an awfully big promise Touya," Y/n said as they sat next to him.

"I mean we can always just wait till the humans go extinct," Touya suggested.

"Haha, all right. I'll hold you to that promise," Y/n laughed as they gently held Touya's hand.

Deku watched from the side of a tunnel wall, as he sighed sadly and turned back into the tunnel. He wandered the cave tunnels as he hugged Y/n's sword close to him. As he turned the corner he bumped into something, something large.

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

I felt lighter than air as I stared into Y/n's e/c eyes.

"AAAAHHHH!" Someone screamed.

"How did the enemy pass us?" Y/n gasped.

"No, maybe the other entrances were compromised," I suggested.

"You go check the next entrance over and see if anything is wrong, I'll go check up the tunnels," Y/n said as she ran down into the dark caves.

With a sigh, I ran to the next entrance that leads to the forests, which was supposed to be guarded by Katsuki and Shoto. Turning the corner he saw two humans picking up pieces of Shoto and Bakugou and stuffing them into potato sacks. Touya quickly drew his sword and cut down the intruders.

Touya to worried about his partner quickly stuffed the rest of Shoto and Bakugou into the bag, not caring he is mixing their pieces, and quickly ran to the village.

---------

"Looks like we caught a phosphophyllite, hold that rock tight Nomu," A light blue hair human smile.

The giant mutant humanoid figure Nomu nodded silently as it the poor gem in its giant hands. Deku's arms were broken off as he was restrained by Nomu's brute strength.

"What fine craftsmen ship, able to slice through rock," Said a tall human with dark back- purple hair.

"LET ME GO!" Deku screamed as he tried to break free from the Nomu.

"Nomu shut the pebble up before he alerts the others," The man growled.

"HEY!" Y/n shouted.

"Another one," The other human grumbled.

"Y/n," Deku smiled in relief.

"Let him go," Y/n said lowly.

"Nomu get it," Tomura pointed at the G/t.

Y/n ran towards the creature and sliced its head clean off, with the sharp edge of her arm. Deku stared with worried and sad eyes as he looked over their damaged form. The left section around her face was broken off, the elbow broke off their left arm, they were missing their right hand, and her right leg was horribly cracked, and it looked like it could fall apart at any moment.

Y/n moved swiftly and kicked the human hard in the face. Deku quickly got up as the two ran down the tunnel.

Deku looked back to see Y/n was having a bit of trouble keeping up with Deku.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Deku asked.

"Don't worry turn right and follow," Y/n said as she pushed forward.

As the two quickly turned the corner, the humans regained their composer and made chase after the two.  Y/n pushed a medium-sized boulder away from a tiny hole in the side of the cave wall. Deku hesitantly got in when suddenly Y/n started to close the opening.

"Y/n What are you doing?" Deku asked as the opening became too small for him to even squeeze out of.

"Hiding you, I'll come back for you. I have to lead them away from the village," Y/n explained as they backed away.

"No, Please don't do this. Don't leave me Y/n. I- I want to tell you something first,'' Deku said quickly.

Y/n smiled sadly as she turned to face Deku from the other side of the boulder. Deku could tell they were ready to throw their life away for everyone, for him.

"Y/n, I love-,"

Suddenly Y/n's head was sliced clean off by a thrown sword. Deku gasped in horror as he watched Y/n's body fall to the ground, he tried to reach out but he had no arm to hold out.

Deku wanted to scream and cry, but no sound came out of him. Y/n slowly turned their head towards Deku and mouthed.

'Please live for me, Deku," they mouthed as the humans quickly gathered her broken body.

They were in such a rush they left Y/n's head behind. Deku fell to his knees as he stared at his crush for so long. It felt like an eternity When All Might and Touya arrived, Their eyes widen with horror and sorrow as Touya fell to his knees and held Y/n's head. He put their foreheads together as he cried out in sorrow.

"NOO!" Touya cried.

All might soon notice Deku was trapped behind the boulder and quickly moved it aside with no effort.

"Let us go Young Deku, we need to evacuate the village before they bring more of them," All might said as he helped Deku to his feet.

-----------

(400 years later)

It has been a long time since Y/n's death, All Might changed in a way after his student's death. If he weren't needed, he would lock himself away, but for the most part, he was still the jolly smiling gem he was before. Touya, on the other hand, didn't take Y/n's death all that well, he did lose his love who was his partner for 800 years. He started to call himself Dabi and started to cover only parts of his face, giving him a patchwork look. It not only scared most humans but fellow gems too.

I was upgraded to a medic after Momo was taken about 200 years back, we some people over the years and gained new ones too. I helped piece gems back together, but my main goal is to bring Y/n back. The village moved up high into the mountain, so high it would be difficult for them to breathe, but Humans would risk their lives and come up anyways. Some came with Weapons and tools made of gems, and many times they were G/t so I slowly put Y/n back together piece by piece.

I Finished them for the most part, but there were still 3 large gaping holes in their torso. I tried to use other gem pieces that matched her Mohs scale. Yet it only worked sometimes, she would wake up for about three minutes. Yet when they do everyone who was watching my work quickly rushed in to tell them how much they missed them and update them on everything.

Even Tou- Dabi would come by. Y/n was weirded out at first but they got used to it quickly and I would never really get a chance to talk to them, but I will never forget the last time they woke up. As they said their goodnight to everyone, they turned to me as said.

"I'll miss you Deku, I can't wait to wake up to see you again," Y/n smiled as they fell back unconscious.

I'll bring you back Y/n so I can tell you how I feel.

[cozy-fantasy-corner]

Band of Idiots Pt. 3: Numb

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, nightmares, panic attacks, shame, alcohol, and grief 

Word Count: 1.6 K

Summary: In the aftermath of her mother’s death, Y/n is numb. Her best friend Steve has recovered and offers her comfort, in turn he meets Bucky

Author’s Note: I’m sorry that it took so long. My writer’s block was horrible and I had way too many ideas. This is kind of a filler chapter, so it’s not amazing. It’s there though. I hope you don’t hate it entirely. My inbox and dms are always open!

-------

I’d never asked what grief felt like. Steve knew it. Bucky knew it. Miss Winnie and Miss Sarah knew it. But it never crossed my mind to ask them what it was like.

I knew pain and I knew sadness. I had never met grief until now.

It was pure agony. It was numbness. It was anger and frustration. It was dangerous, like a caged animal at the Bronx Zoo. It was ugly, and it wasn’t easy.

It held a hard, stale taste in my mouth. My limbs felt like lead and there was an uncomfortable knot in my chest. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep.

All I could do was lay there like a rag-doll in Bucky’s bed. Unblinking.

-------

It had been two days since my world came to a grinding halt.  

Both of my parents were dead, as I came to find out. I was an orphan.

I had two whole families worth of people looking after me, Miss Sarah and Miss Winnie, not to mention my boys, but I still felt alone in all of this.

Stevie had been cleared by the doctor the night that Momma died, but Miss Sarah didn’t let him come see me until today. They were both so broken up, and Stevie was still a little weak on his feet. I understood.

When he came into the room and sat down on Bucky’s bed, I didn’t move an inch. Normally I would have sprung at him, but my body just couldn’t.

He moved closer to the pillow I was resting my head  on and he pulled me into him. As soon as my head met his bony chest and my hand found his shirt, the dam broke. All of the emotions I’d been avoiding and the tears I’d been choking back spilled all down his front.

Stevie didn’t mind. He never did. He just held me and petted my hair. We sat like that for over an hour before Bucky came in.

 Bucky sat two glasses of water and thing of crackers on his nightstand before settling on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on my shin, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

I quickly came to my senses and began furiously wiping at my face, sniffling softly. Bucky pulled a handkerchief out of his shirt and extended it to me with a timid smile. Stevie was quick to take it and clean my face off for me. I closed my eyes and crinkled my nose at his actions.

Before I could properly tell him off, my stomach growled loudly. 

I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Both of them knew this, hence the loud noise being met with twin glares. I offered them a meek smile and Steve rolled his eyes, ruffling my already messy hair. 

We all cuddled up and ate in silence, just enjoying the food and each others company. Soon the sun began to sink lower and lower over the Brooklyn bridge, castling delicate, rosy shadows over me and my boys. 

“It’s getting late, Minnie. You need sleep”.Steve grabbed my hand with a sigh, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. 

I whined at him and stuck out my bottom lip halfheartedly. Bucky giggled at my pouting and ruffled my hair. He mumbled “punk” under his breath. I shot back with a weak “jerk”. We both received a pointed glare from Stevie. My face turned a soft pink, barely noticeable in the lighting. 

“C’mon. I’m not kidding. Tomorrow... it’s a big day, and uh ya know,” Steve’s voice breaking off into a whisper.

I nodded as my eyes began to well up with tears. I blinked them away as the boys made to leave. Me being my stubborn self, I held onto their shirts, tight. 

“Stay.”

And they did. 

-------

I woke up in a cold sweat, tangled and trapped between a mass of limbs. Words wouldn’t form and my limbs couldn’t move properly. I thrashed about, pinned down to the mattress and tears fell hotly down my cheeks. 

My whimpers and wild wiggling was met with groans. Stevie shot up, untangling himself from us. His eyes were wide, scanning the room for danger. When his baby blues fell on my panicked state, he shook Bucky violently. 

“Wake up!” he hissed. 

I could barely make out where I was, but a strong, familiar scent kept me somewhat grounded. Someone was pulling me into them and cooing softly at me. It was nice, but my heart was pounding out of my chest. My lungs were tight. I could barely breathe. 

The door slammed open and the room flooded with light. My fist tangled itself into someone’s shirt and I buried my face. A pair of soft hands lifted my shaking form from the bed and carried me away. I was taken through multiple doorways and placed into a cold tub. 

My breathing began to slow and my tremors stopped as warm water swirled around me. My clothes stuck to my skin, wet from sweat and the bath. I could feel someone tugging at them and tearing them away from me. 

My vision went from a colorful blur to pitch black in a matter of seconds. All I could remember was the water flowing over my skin. 

------

The morning of my parents’ funerals, I woke up back in Bucky’s bed. He and Stevie weren’t tangled around me. I smelled faintly of peppermint and lavender. I wasn’t dressed in the same clothes, my hair flowed freely around my shoulders. 

I rubbed the remnants of sleep from droopy eyes. My hands made their way down my face as I connected the events of last night. The nightmare. The bath. The black out. They all came rushing back to me and I groaned in embarrassment. Everyone must think I’m crazy. 

When my feet met the cold ground I hissed loudly. I threw my arms over my head and stretched. A knock sounded from the doorway. It was Miss Winnie. 

I looked at her sheepishly as she approached me. I fulled expected her to talk to me about last night, but instead, she handed me a dress with a wry smile.

“For today. Get dressed and come get some breakfast. You’ll need it”. And with that she left me alone. 

I shrugged off the clothes that I had slept in and tugged the stupid dress over my head. The top was tight with frilly sleeves and the bottom poofed out. The whole thing was black and itchy as hell. I slipped on my white frilly socks and Sunday shoes. I shivered in disgust. I looked like an idiot. 

I trudged my way out into the kitchen area. I was greeted by the sight of Steve and Bucky in front of untouched plates. This was a marvel because Stevie never held out on food. Miss Sarah was constantly on him about it. 

“We were waiting for you, Minnie”. I smiled softly at them and took my seat. 

We all tucked in to the S.O.S and eggs. It made me do my little food dance which earned a chuckle from Stevie. We ate in an odd, peaceful silence. The dread was beginning to pool in the pit of my stomach. 

When we were finished we cleared the table. We hurried to scrub our hands and faces before we were being pushed out the door by Miss Winnie. Miss Sarah met us at the stairs and walked with us to the train. Everyone was silent until we reached the cathedral. 

The boys grabbed my hands and walked with me to stoup. We all dipped our fingers and made the sign of the cross before quickly attaching to each other again. They led me to the pew where their families were. Many concerned church members attempted to place hands on my arms as I passed, but were blocked by Steve and Bucky. 

My throat felt tight as the two wooden boxes came into view. I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as they would go. Steve squeezed my hand and guided me to sit between him and Buck. A knot formed in my throat but never quite spilled over. I didn’t even shed a tear as I tuned out the priest’s opening. I was a statue. 

I didn’t even know that the service was over until I was begin ushered out of the chapel. I was too numb and tired and annoyed to even care where I was going. I clung to the boys blindly. I hoped we were going home. 

I felt like I was floating away, but the boys kept me right by their sides. My heart was hammering in my chest and tears began to spill silently. 

They were really gone. I was truly alone. 

All I’d known for the previous eight years of my life was scrapped away by liquor and violence. A deep sense of shame settled under my skin. I was the daughter of a drunken murderer. How was I supposed to live with that for the rest of my life? In truth, there isn’t an answer for that, there never will be. I have to take this journey one painful day at a time. 

I cried softly for the rest of the day. I didn’t touch the food at the post-burial potluck. I didn’t speak to a single person, and my hands didn’t leave Steve or Bucky’s, not for a second. I was too numb and distraught. 

The day ended with us piled up on Miss Sarah’s couch, tangled up in each other and fast asleep. That wasn’t the first time, and that wouldn’t be the last. 

[baronesscmd]

So this is for @donut-hair & @yo-homeboy-looks-like-sharkweek, since they’ve been through some struggles, and deserve some snuggles. 

The lovey tag came about because someone (Dianne) likes to write angst and I needed something sweet. So, a little hurt, a little comfort, all Hananene. Enjoy!

Nene dropped herself down into the soft grass behind the practice garden, hoping that the high rows of vegetables were enough to keep her hidden from searching eyes. Nothing had gone right from the moment she’d woken up this morning. 

At some point in the night, Black Canyon had knocked over its water bottle, so she’d had to skip breakfast to clean the cage and lay new bedding. Then, as she was getting dressed, her tights had split at the seam, and her other pair were dirty. She’d pulled on a pair of socks reluctantly, and in her rush to not be late, had left her bento in the fridge.

And it hadn’t stopped there. She missed her train, had to run to the next station over, nearly dropped her broach down the gutter, and broke a nail catching herself from falling when her toe found a crack in the pavement. 

Once she’d got to school, she realized her math assignment was still on her desk at home, she had grabbed her diary instead of her English workbook, and Nagisa-sensei had lectured her for ten minutes about paying attention in class instead of daydreaming. 

Nene had missed lunch because of an impromptu talk with her teachers, and just as she was coming back, had overheard a group of boys making fun of her ankles. She dipped her head and hurried down the hall, sinking her teeth into her lip to keep the tears at bay.

And in a role reversal that just dug the knife deeper, Aoi had rushed out just as the last bell ended with only the briefest of goodbyes. So, Nene had thrown all her stuff into her bag, tossed it in her locker, and went looking for a quiet place to cry.

The practice garden was always empty on Tuesdays, so it was the perfect little hideaway. Nene found a little patch of sunlight, dappled with shadows from the trellis beside her and tucked her face against her knees and cried. 

Cried about her shrinking lifespan, cried about her dumb ankles. About Hanako, and Kou, and Mitsuba; about how unfair everything was. Something brushed against her side, and Nene looked up with a shuddering sob. 

It was hard to see through the blur of tears, but she’d recognize the Mokke anywhere. They were moving before she could say anything, piling into her lap, curling against her side, emitting a strange purring hum as they nestled in close. 

She sniffled and stroked her fingers over their ears, watery giggles escaping her as they jostled each other for pets. She fell back into the grass, letting the sun dry the tears on her cheeks, and closed her eyes. The Mokke continued their humming, and slowly but surely, Nene felt herself slip off to sleep. 

“-Shiro!”

Nene blinked her eyes open. How odd, the sky had been such a bright blue when she’d closed her eyes a minute ago. Now, everything was painted in ruby and burnt orange, and Nene struggled upright, Mokke tumbling around her. 

“Yashiro!”

The Mokke scrambled away just as Hanako rounded the garden, not stopping as he flung himself forward and knocked her back into the grass. Cold hands touched her cheeks, swept over her eyes, brushed over her forehead. She thought, with a bittersweet ache, of her own searching hands and a boy in a dream world.

“Hanako-kun, you’re crushing me!”

He moved off her immediately, but only to drag her up and into his lap. Nene spluttered, trying to push him away. Hadn’t he gotten onto her not too long ago about being too forward!? She looked up, and her breath caught in her throat. 

His hat had been lost in his mad grab for her, his choppy dark hair disheveled. But it was his eyes, wide amber usually crinkled in mischief, that made her pause. There was concern and worry in those moon-like eyes, so deep and sad that she let her hands fall into her lap. 

Hanako’s palms curved around her cheeks, and Nene let her eyes fall shut as the coolness of his skin soaked into her heated skin. She wanted to tell him she was okay, even if it was a lie, just so he would stop looking so sad. 

She reached out, fingers brushing against the front of his jacket before sliding up so she could lock her fingers behind his neck. For all her denials, despite all his teasing, here is where she always felt the safest. There was nothing that could hurt her when she was with Hanako, nothing that he wouldn’t protect her from.

She pulled lightly, expecting resistance but found none. His forehead rested against her own, and Nene could feel the tumbling breaths he didn’t need fall over her mouth. One thumb swept over her cheek, brushing away the lingering salt of her tears. 

“Yashiro.”

Her name was barely a whisper, and it carried in it a hope, a wish, a plea. This is where they pulled apart, where they blushed and blustered and went their separate ways. This was where Hanako told her it was impossible, where she reminded him, he wasn’t her type.

But that wasn’t quite true anymore, was it?

That picture-perfect world he’d constructed for her had held so many fragile truths in it's gossamer lies. He wanted her to live, had been willing to do almost anything to make sure she got her wish. How many times had she told him that she liked him? That she didn’t want this false world if she couldn’t have him too?

He may have been short, and pervy, and way too clingy; but he was fiercely loyal, and unexpectedly sweet. He was changing her view every day she spent cooped up in that old bathroom, with every new person who came into her orbit from simply knowing the ghostly boy.

Tears burned in her throat, at the unfairness, the uncertainty of everything they were tangled up in. But maybe, just maybe, they could have this. 

Nene pulled back, just enough so that she could see Hanako’s face clearly. It was obvious he wanted to ask her what was wrong, and the fact that he hadn’t yet surprised her a bit. She kept one hand against the back of his neck, the other she curled around his jaw, swiping her thumb over his mouth. 

A flush blossomed over his cheeks, slinking down his neck to disappear beneath his collar. His hands fluttered against her skin, but he didn’t pull away; the ember in Nene’s chest caught and started to burn. She had known, somewhere deep in her mind, behind the locked doors of denial, that if this was going to happen, she’d have to be the one to take the step.

Her heart thundered wildly in her ears as she drew him closer, his eyes skipping from her own to the part of her lips. 

“Hanako…”

Her voice was no more than a sigh, and in any other moment Nene would have been mortified. She watched as the concern in those amber eyes shifted, darkened and became something else entirely. He pulled her closer, and Nene imagined she could feel each word he spoke against her own mouth.

“I... may I?”

Nene let her eyes flutter shut, tipped her head into the cradle of his hands, and whispered a yes that was caught as his lips pressed to hers. It was chaste and quick, there and gone like a summer storm. She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair and drew him back down.

Their second kiss blurred into a third and a fourth, and by time Nene drew back to draw air into her aching lungs, she’d lost count. Hanako didn’t pause, pressing kisses to her cheeks, her eyes, her nose as she giggled in the circle of his arms. 

She only noticed as he leaned in once again that his expression had gone mischievous, and she shrieked as he nipped at the soft skin beneath her ear. 

“Hanako!”

He laughed loud, and it burned away the last lingering bits of sorrow that had caught her. She tumbled him back down into the grass, taking his moment of disorientation to pepper kisses over his face as he tried to escape.

She knew they’d have to talk about this eventually; about her, and him, and them. They’d gone and made everything just a bit more complicated. But, as he finally pinned her down, eyes sparking before leaned in to kiss her again, she just couldn’t regret it. 

[deadcapriwalkin]

Dear, You

It’s insane, it’s been half a year and yet I seem to still catch myself thinking about you every single day. I hate that I miss your smile more than anything. I hate that she took you away from me. You would have rather chose a woman who lets you do drugs than the person who was encouraging you to get better for the sake of your health and your future. You would rather move to an entirely different city with a woman who won’t do anything for you besides provide the resources needed for you to have a guiltless fix..

I remember the day I came home, locked myself in the bedroom and your mother gently tapping on the door with the tips of her fingers so she wouldn’t startle me. For all she saw was my face drenched in tears that symbolized pure fear and my lips turning a shade of purple from the panic of losing you. The days you told me I never cared about you behind a phone screen sitting at home while I’m in the middle of the Target aisle holding on to every fiber of my being to not breakdown and cry in front of everyone around me. I loved you so much, the last thing I wanted to do was lose the person whom I thought loved me.

Days you spend taking your anger out on your mother and I because you lost a video game or maybe lost something that was supposed to be in your possession, possibly the drugs you said you didn’t buy but your inability to pay rent that month was soulfully because the first winters snow had you by the throat and taking your every last breath. Your anger was bone rattling, your voice made it seem like there was an Earthquake in the middle of Wisconsin. I was genuinely terrified of the person you may become further down the road. I watched as you made your mother cry because you didn’t give one full damn about what you said to her. The slamming of doors was impossible to ignore between me, you and your mother; two of us crying and you sitting there angry that you upset us due to what you said to us. The things you said to us really put the deepest pit in my stomach and my heart had never felt so heavy.

There was a time where I had thought you would take your anger out on us physically in a black out rage. That was never the case however, the truly disturbing phrases you claimed me to be as a person or how I was just this awful nightmare for you gave me a shock to my system. I felt utterly disgusted with who I was even though the things you said about me I knew for a fact, were false. You made me believe what you were saying was true though. You took my worst nightmare and made it a pure reality for me.. So I hid from you, locked myself away from you slowly what felt like decaying in a dark room with the food I had snuck into the bedroom without you being home so that way if you saw my face you wouldn’t get upset. The old food on the floor, the truly painful depression setting in to my aching, terrified muscles. Flinching at the sound of footsteps coming towards the door.. Sadly it was never you to come and check in on me.. Your mother was the only one who out of the kindness of her heart, cared about how I felt. Seemed like every single thing angered you, and on the good days I would make sure to walk on eggshells to make sure that, that day you did not strain yourself from yelling. You never seemed to care, I loved you and you were my everything.

I was really fooled on what the depiction of love was. I knew couples fought but this was a complete 180 compared to the normal lovers bickering. Of course, there were good days. But at the end of said days, I still slept in the bed while tears silently poured down my face burning my hot red cheeks while you’re facing the opposite way.. There was no more goodnight kisses from you. 

Crying myself to sleep had become a ritual. It was sooner than later that I had starting sniffling in bed for a different reason other than your anger. The man I loved whom slept next to me at night had been sleeping with another woman. I have to say, you sir were not sneaky. Between the “smoking sessions” with your buddies and not returning until early the next morning to sneaking her into the house after I had told you that I don’t feel comfortable with her in my home. As soon as she had set foot in our living room my body froze into fight or flight mode. She would always pretend to be nice to me, she hadn’t a clue that I had known about the tussles in the sheets after hours. Either of them did not realize that I had certain resources that would tell me a recap whenever he would visit her. I had known how long they’d being seeing each other behind my back for a while at this point and our relationship would just go further downhill to the point he wouldn’t sleep in the bed anymore and I had changed the locks on the bedroom door. My house didn’t feel like home anymore, my little family was being ripped out of my grasp and placed firmly into hers. I was losing every sense of hope I had left.. 

I have regrets please do not get me wrong. Granted, I struggled with forming the correct sentences when attempting to explain myself and how I felt. It was if no matter how I said anything you got angry at me for feeling emotions that I couldn’t control. I would stumble over words, stutter when frazzled and become over emotional because, all I wanted to do was tell you how i felt inside. How it felt to lay in a pit of stomach pressure and an empty beating heart basically dying from the inside out. I wanted you to know and be aware of the things that I had noticed and detected. But you refused to hear me out, I would try and try, I wouldn’t stop pushing until I could get it through your head that I was hurting so badly.. But you didn’t seem to care. You, you were my person; someone I should’ve been able to confide in, express my feelings and be open, honest. We were supposed to be a team but that faded away very quickly. 

Like I said, I have regrets during the relationship. I know I wasn’t perfect and there could always be room for improvement. Although to this day I really do believe we were soulmates, we were just two very different people. You lacked sympathy, empathy and all around a cold person. I was the person who felt everything too much, felt your emotions, moms and my own. I was constantly stuck in a cage of everyone emotions and I just wanted to tell you that. 

I regret hiding when you were angry, I regret not figuring out ways to calm you down when you were upset. I regret not paying 100% attention to the things you were extremely passionate about. I never took the time to listen to you about the things you love. I regret constantly trying to fix you when you didn’t want to be fixed. I regret being as worried as I was. Your well being was a top priority to me.. I didn’t want you going down the same path I went down before getting clean. I regret forcing you to listen to me about my side of the story and refusing to hear your side because it upset me. During the time I believed your side to be idiotic and selfish. You were trying the best you could I like to think. I regret isolating myself in the bedroom I was so used to running and hiding that I didn’t think about how you were feeling in that moment. I regret not coming into the living room to wake you up and bring you into the bedroom so your back wouldn’t hurt the next day.  I know you have regrets too but, I will never know what they are. 

Everyone says people come into your life for a reason.. I like to believe you were in my life to teach me that becoming the best version of myself was the only way I could actually help someone who wants to be fixed. Turns out, the person I needed to fix, was me. I wasn’t the best for you however, I will be the best for the next. 

There is still underlying pain, anger, sadness on the way you went about it though. I was nothing but loyal and honest to you. I was devoted to you because I loved you. Instead of telling me you simply didn’t love me anymore you decided to create a separate life, one that was without me. Falling in love with another woman behind my back even though I felt the knife pierce near my spine. To this day you still do not know that. 

As I sit here in my apartment seeing this beautiful life I created for myself by growing through the hurt, pain and anger that took half a year to find myself in a different light staying single, because the pain is still here. Every single day is progress for me. I am learning something new about myself every day. I get to learn about myself, without you.. The pain I had to bare was too intense so I decided to do something about it. I refuse to feel the way I felt that night you told me you two were dating. 

You had claimed to be dating her two weeks after our separation. I knew about the affair for much longer than two weeks after the breakup. That night that you said the words in my passenger seat “yes we are dating” I told myself that I reuse to ever feel like that for someone again. Because although you were one mentally abusive man, you were literally everything to me. To hear those words come out of your mouth was like taking the knife out of my back and placing it directly into my heart. I cried for weeks after that. You will never know the pain I had felt so deeply because you had someone “waiting” for you. 

I should be thanking you to be quite honest. Because of you I can walk differently, talk differently, feel beautiful inside and out, I finally get to smile and I actually mean it. I haven’t been this social-able in years. I glow differently, I can laugh and not be drowned by the tears I had shed in the past for you. Thank you for giving me the agonizing pain and torture of this heart break. Because now, the only person I’m good enough for at the end of the day.. Is me. 

[marvxlousqueen]

Warren Worthington- I Missed You

tysm to @thoughtlesspace for always giving me ideas ily sm-Oh what if their exs and they haven’t spoken since the break up and that (sharing a room) forces them too and they find out their still in love w each other and smut ensues

warnings: angsty!!, warren cries a little :( , cussing, smut at the end ;)

word count: 3.2K (she’s LONG)

A/N: i got the gif from @mazzelloplots and he looks so good wtf like please let me suck your dick sir 

It was a standard mission: depart from the school, travel for a day or two, recruit the newly discovered mutant, travel back, and get the new mutant registered and settled in. New mutants were found every few months thanks to Professor Xavier’s cerebro device, making this a usual routine to (Y/n).  (Y/n) had been on tons of missions like this, even if it had been a few months since her last one.

(Y/n)’s last recruitment mission was about four months ago. It was her, Jean, Scott, and Warren- Warren.

(Y/n) hadn’t spoken to him since that mission. He had been careless, almost getting himself and everyone else killed by being too public about his mutation while they were tracking down the new mutant. (Y/n) had gone off about how dangerous it was and how he had a death wish, which resulted in Warren dumping her that same moment, saying something about “I don’t need you trying to control me.”

Of course, (Y/n) wasn’t trying to control him, just merely looking out for him because god knows he needed someone on his side after all the shit he had been through.

The rest of that mission (Y/n) avoided Warren, not wanting him to see how red and puffy her eyes were after their break up. She hid out in the back of the plane the whole ride back, busy crying into her hoodie.

The one thing that really bothered her about the break up, the one thing she was thinking about the entire flight back home- Warren didn’t seem affected at all. The same day they broke up she saw him laughing and making jokes with Scott as if he didn’t even care that he had ended their nine month relationship.

They had been together for almost a whole year and he felt nothing when it was over. (Y/n)’s sadness quickly turned to anger over the next fews days following their break up. She felt like it had all been a game to Warren, a game she didn’t want to play.

In an attempt to move on, she had been avoiding him since and had no plans to speak to him ever again.

That was until it was announced that after her four months off from recruitment missions, she was expected to make a trip all the way to Colorado with Jean, Scott, and Warren.

“Jean, you need to help me! I do not want to see him, I can’t see him. Can you try telling the Professor that you guys can handle it on your own? Honestly-you don’t need me.”

Jean rolled her eyes, watching (Y/n) face plant into her pillow while Jean packed. “I’m not doing that, (Y/n). We do need you and Warren won’t even care that you’re coming, he’s totally over everything, Scott said so.”

(Y/n) groaned into her pillow, feeling heat rush to her face in both embarrassment and anger. How could Warren be completely over me, but I can’t stop thinking about him? It’s not fair, she thought to herself.

“You still have feelings for Warren?”

(Y/n) sat up fast, “Stay out of my head, Jean!”

She raised her hands in surrender, “Sorry, sorry, you were just being really loud... but, do you?”

(Y/n) slowly nodded, eyes on the floor. Jean was quiet, not sure how to respond. She remembered how much (Y/n) had liked Warren when they were together, she was sure (Y/n) was in love with him.

“I still like him so much, and he’s totally over me.. what am I going to do?”

Jean walked over, taking a seat next to her on (Y/n)’s bed, patting her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. It’s still fresh, but you’ll get over it eventually, you’ll find someone even better, trust me.”

(Y/n) shook her head, burying her face in her hands, letting out a sigh, “There’s no one better, he was the one.”

Jean patted her back, sighing with her.

The next morning (Y/n) was woken up by Jean’s alarm at 5:15, giving them an hour to finish packing, eat, change into their gear, and load up. At 5:45 (Y/n) stumbled into the kitchen, still not quite awake.

Looking up towards the pantry, she saw a figure all too familiar. White wings stretched out, curly hair a mess. He looked as amazing as ever, maybe even better than usual. His sleepy expression was one thing (Y/n) missed. She remembered the mornings she would wake up with him pressed against her, wings keeping her warm. She remembered his gravelly morning voice that always gave her chills, or the way he would push his face into the crook of her neck, leaving soft kisses to help her wake up.

(Y/n) was broken from her thoughts by the sounds of the pantry door closing. Warren made his way to the fridge, not looking at her. (Y/n) sneaked behind him, not wanting to make eye contact with him, not knowing what she would do if she did. She grabbed a breakfast bar from the pantry before trying to speed off down the hallway to move her gear into the plane.

“That’s all you’re going to eat?”

She stopped her movements, nearly dropping the bar in surprise. (Y/n) hadn’t heard his voice in nearly four months. She didn’t answer him, stuck frozen to the floor, not sure what to do about this situation.

“You always told me how breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You should eat some protein or something, not just that shit.”

(Y/n) had to stop herself from snapping at him, stop herself from yelling “Why do you care?”

She kept her head forward, not looking at where he stood behind her. She started to walk forward again, hoping to move past this situation.

“(Y/n).”

She stopped again, resisting the urge to turn around.

Warren ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to think of what to say while he had her there. “You always made sure I took care of myself, it’s time you do the same. A good breakfast is a nice start.”

(Y/n) sped down the hallway for the last time, trying to figure out why Warren was so pushy about the fact the fact that she was eating a bar instead of a fresh breakfast.

Truth is, Warren was trying anything to hold a conversation with her. He figured bringing up one of (Y/n)’s favorite methods of “self-care” would do the trick. Warren pulled his hand from his hair, groaning at how his hair was greasy and knotted.

You could say that (Y/n) had been a large part of Warren’s “hygiene.” Before they started going steady, he had been in an emotionless slump, never having the motivation to even do the simplest things like take care of himself. (Y/n) started pushing him to do so, knowing it would make him feel better.

He remembered after their first “official” date, a movie and a nice walk through the park (where they had gotten rained on), (Y/n) helped clean his wet wings. They were grimey from all the outdoor training he had been doing and desperately needed to be cleaned, but it was too difficult for him to reach and took too much effort. The feeling of her hands on him in that way was one he would never be able to forget. Her soft touches were something he wasn’t used to after his time in the cage in Berlin.

He hated to admit it, but he missed those soft touches, her warm hugs, the feeling of her pressed against him on a cold night, her soft lips on his- all feelings that Warren would never experience again because of how badly he had fucked up four months ago. And he hated himself for it.

He wasn’t even sure why it happened- he was stressed from the mission, angry from seeing anti-mutant protests in the streets as they tracked down their new recruit, and having (Y/n) snap at him about being careless and almost getting all of them killed by bringing attention to them, it just pushed him past his limit.

He should’ve taken it back that day, begged for her forgiveness, but he had broken up with her in front of everyone (another thing he regrets- he can’t imagine how embarrassing that must’ve been for her). If he were to beg her to take him back, he would’ve looked weak. He was too proud to undo what he had done, and it ultimately ended up destroying him.

On the way back from that mission he had seen her cry for the first time. All Warren wanted to do was hold her, stroke her hair, and whisper nice things in her ear to calm her down, until he remembered he was the cause of it all. How he would never be able to hold her again because she hated him.

Warren slammed the fridge shut, letting his anger get the better of him.

At 6:10, 5 minutes till departure, (Y/n) was stuffing her bag into a seat next to her, buckling it up so her stuff didn’t bounce around the plane. A few minutes after (Y/n) had taken her seat, Warren entered the plane, bag slung over his shoulder. He walked towards the row of seats where (Y/n) was, moving her bag from next to her so he could sit.

She said nothing, taking her bag from his hands and putting it below her chair. Warren’s leg was bouncing with anxiety. What do I say? What do I say?

“Hi.” Smooth, really thought out, genius!

(Y/n) eyes were still straight ahead, not wanting to see him. She afraid she would see how happy he was, how breaking up with her had finally freed him, because according to him those 4 months ago, she was just so controlling.

She was even more afraid of him seeing how broken she still was. (Y/n) didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her like that.

“So.. how are you?” Warren was leaning forward in his seat now, trying to get her to make eye contact with him.

(Y/n) was getting more and more annoyed by the second. Why does he want to talk to me?

She opened her mouth to snap at him, but was interrupted by Scott.

“We all set to leave?”

Jean climbed up in after him, helping Scott set the autopilot controls. (Y/n) took the opportunity of their interrupting presence to move seats, getting away from Warren.

Warren looked away from Scott to see (Y/n) rushing with her bag to the other side of the plane. He let out a sigh, hand running through his hair again.

What am I supposed to do if she won’t even talk to me?

Maybe you shouldn’t have broken up with her, you dick.

Warren jumped in his seat at the sudden sound of Jean in his head. Get out of my head, Jean!

No.

He looked at where she was sitting at the front of the plane with Scott, eyebrows furrowed. Well, can you at least be helpful if you’re going to eavesdrop? What do I do?

You don’t deserve her.

I know I don’t.

Jean was silent for a moment, taken back by his answer. She had always pictured Warren as some cocky douche ever since he had ended things with (Y/n) in front of everyone, but he was surprising her by sounding sincere.

I know I don’t deserve her, but please.. I miss her so fucking much. I need to get her back. Please help me.

Jean didn’t answer him, she returned to speaking with Scott as if she hadn’t just heard Warren open his heart. She didn’t say anything for the rest of the flight, all four hours of it.

Warren kept his eyes on the ground for the rest of the way, occasionally glancing towards (Y/n), praying she would look back at him just once.

The next few hours after they landed was spent tracking down the address of the new mutant. They located the house, but discovered the mutant was at a friends house until the following day, allowing Jean, Scott, (Y/n), and Warren to turn in early at the motel they were staying in for the night.

They were only able to get two rooms since it was Winterfest weekend in Denver and every hotel and motel in sight was completely booked. Jean and Scott had gone to the vending machine in the main office while (Y/n) and Warren silently unloaded their stuff from the rental car.

(Y/n) threw her and Jean’s bags into the first room, letting Warren handle his and Scott’s things. After locking the car, (Y/n) shut the door to her and Jean’s room throwing herself onto the one bed, happy it was a queen size so Jean wouldn’t kick her too much.

(Y/n) was flicking through channels on the TV when there was a knock at the door. Opening it, she saw Jean’s red hair covered in snow flurries.

“Hey, came to grab my stuff.”

(Y/n) stood frozen, confused as Jean walked past her, grabbing her duffel bag. “What?”

“Oh come on, it hasn’t been that long since we’ve all been on a mission like this. I room with Scott and you with Warren so that we can all.. you know.”

(Y/n) shook her head quickly, “No, Jean, no. That was before.. that was old times. I need to room with you, I’m not sharing a room with Warren!” She stood in front of the door, trying to block Jean from leaving.

“Yes you are. I need to room with Scott, we haven’t been alone in weeks.”

“Ew, Jean shut up.”

Jean rolled her eyes, pushing past (Y/n).

“Jean no! Come back!”

(Y/n) ran to the other room next door where Jean had gone, knocking loudly. The door opened, revealing Warren with his bag in his hand.

“Hey-”

“No! Jean, no!”

Warren’s voice immediately stopped. She doesn’t even want to see me, why would Jean think she’d be okay rooming with me?

His heart sunk even farther as (Y/n) continued her protests while he set up shop in her room. He sat down on the right side of her bed, remembering how she preferred the left side. His head was in his hands, eyes burning from frustration and self-hatred.

All Warren could think about was how much fun these missions used to be for him and (Y/n). The night before meeting with the recruit was spent eating too many vending machine snacks and staying up too late fooling around. Now he’d consider himself lucky if she said one word to him.

(Y/n) entered the room, dragging her feet. She stopped as she saw Warren on the bed. “You aren’t sleeping on the bed.”

Warren’s head whipped up at her words. She hadn’t spoken to him all day and that was the first thing she had said? 

“I’m not sleeping on the floor, it’s freezing.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow, “Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Warren’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. “No (Y/n), you’ll freeze.”

She shook off his hand, “Don’t touch me, asshole.”

Warren quickly retracted his hand, voice breaking as he mumbled an “I’m sorry.”

Her words circled in his head as he tried to hold back his tears.

don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me, asshole

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do about a crying Warren on her bed. 

“(Y/n)..”

Turns out, her body made the decision for her by making her involuntarily leap onto the bed to hold him at the sound of her name passing through his lips. He pressed his face into her shoulder, tears still running freely.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, (Y/n) please-I love you so much, I’m so sorry, I love you-”

“Warren..”

“I’m such an asshole and I don’t deserve you, I know I don’t but I love you so much-”

“Warren-”

“I’m so sorry, I love-”

“Warren, you don’t love me.”

He pulled away from her shoulder, looking up at her with wet cheeks. “Yes I do, (Y/n). I love you so much and-”

“If you loved me you never would have-”

“I never should have! I didn’t want to end things- I was just irritated and tired and mad and I’m so sorry, please (Y/n).” 

(Y/n) stayed still, eyes on him. She wasn’t sure what to make of his apology or the fact that for the first time he said he loved her.

“God, look at me, I look like such a pussy. I can’t believe I’m crying in front of you.” Warren wiped his eyes, still watching her, waiting for a reaction. When none came he moved his hands to cup her face, looking into her eyes, “I love you so much and I’m so fucking so-”

(Y/n) cut him off by placing a strong kiss to his lips, which Warren immediately fell into, not realizing how much he had missed the taste of her. 

She pulled away, hands on his face, wiping at the few tears that were still spilling. 

She pressed her forehead against his, holding him close.

“I love you, (Y/n) and you don’t have to say it back, I know you hate me-”

“I love you, Warren.”

Warren’s heart skipped a beat as he heard those words leave her mouth, something he was honestly not expecting to hear, ever. He jumped on top of her, pinning her to the bed. 

“I missed you so much, you have no idea.”

He pushed his lips back onto hers, pressing his tongue into her mouth, fighting with hers. 

(Y/n)’s hands started to trail under his shirt, feeling the scars beneath her fingers. She started to tug at it, signaling to Warren that he should take it off. He pulled out of the kiss, trying to pull the shirt over his head without ripping it on his big wings. 

(Y/n) followed his suit, pulling her hoodie and shirt over her head, leaving her in a bra and jeans. 

Warren laid back onto her, grinding his hips against hers as he kissed her neck while he teased at her bra straps, waiting for her to beg for it.

“Warren...,” she whimpered. 

“What do you want? Tell me.”

“Fuck me please, I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

Warren pulled his face from her neck, looking at her now. “And your hand just doesn’t compare, does it?”

(Y/n) shook her head, licking her lips as she thought of all the nights she spent with her hand in her panties trying to give herself the same feeling Warren used to. 

“Let me make it up to you first...”

Warren began to slide down her body, unbuttoning her jeans, pulling them down with her underwear in one go. 

“No, Warren, I need you to fuck me now. Like right now.”

Warren moved back up to her face. “You sure? I miss going down on you, it’s been far too long..”

“We’ll have time for that later, now I just need your cock, please!”

Warren pulled down his sweats, leaving his boxers for her to deal with. Her hands reached up to where he was on top of her, palming him, getting him so hard it hurt. 

“Fuck, I missed you, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) finally pulled down his boxers, “Show me how much you missed me.”

taglist:  @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thoughtlesspace @billyhargovesgurl @babebenhardy

hmu to be added to my taglist!! and send me requests!!

[everythingoesnk]

Once in Rockfield Farm (4/5)

summary; in this house we stan brian the hero

word count; 4 638

warnings; mary austin.

part 1

part 2

part 3

********

“Brian, can you get your fucking clogs out of the way?” Roger groaned, kicking them with the tip of his shoe.

“What’s gotten into you?” John complained, tired of his babyish behaviour.

“Don’t bother trying, Deaky” Brian said, sending Roger a look.

He wasn’t paying attention to them, perfectly displaying the lack of interest in carrying a conversation.

About you, you spent a lot of time with your friends lately, celebrating the successful end of the semester. All your hard work was rewarded, and you were finally clean and done with University.

There hadn’t been more opportunities to talk with you privately, and Roger wished you’d notice his efforts for things to go back to normal. It annoyed him that you always had something to do and wouldn’t find time to invest in him.

He fucked up everything saying he’d follow your suggestion to find another chick. It was childish and a mistake. He didn’t mean it and didn’t do it. He wanted to apologize and kept trying to do his bit, but you were closed off.

Excuses and excuses kept coming out of your mouth to avoid being alone with him.

Anxiety. That’s what you felt when recalling yours and Mary’s conversation.

Just the thought of Roger’s real intentions being the ones she addressed made you want to puke. You didn’t hate him or disliked him overnight, but you wouldn’t risk getting hurt.

Also, you’d been contemplating moving to America. Rockfield Farm’d become a vacation home rather than your residence.

Indifferent to your intentions to stay away from him, last Wednesday, Roger tried again.

He bought two tickets to attend a Romeo and Juliet play. He didn’t give two shits about Shakespeare or the performance, he just happened to hear you talk to John about how much you wanted to go. Turned out a guy called Gideon asked you first earlier that week to accompany him to that same bloody play. He could remember sympathy written on your face when he revealed you the plan.

Roger played it cool the best he could when you politely declined, justifying yourself saying you’d already agreed to go with Gideon.

“Maybe next time” he took a step back, staring down at his hands.

When you left the room he didn’t hesitate to tear the tickets into pieces.

“But I’m curious” John insisted.

“He’s angry because (Y/N)’s having a date tonight” Freddie half smiled.

Roger’s expression hardened. Freddie’s grin was no longer there.

“Oh, Rog” he pouted.

“What’s going on, Fred?” Brian asked in an undertone, leaning closer to Freddie.

John joined the little circle after looking briefly at Roger, who was peering through the window and susurrating something under his breath.

“Our sweet child is lovesick. Tonight was supposed to be his date with (Y/N), but she rejected him”

“She didn’t reject me” Roger claimed through gritted teeth. “Gideon happened to be faster”

Pronouncing this stranger’s name burned his tongue.

“It doesn’t mean it’s a date” Brian guessed. “I wouldn’t lose sleep over it, Roger”

He shook his head.

"She chose him over me, I'll get over it," he thought saying it out loud would make the statement sound easier.

“(Y/N) adores you, Rog. It’s not that deep, trust me” Freddie assured.

“What have I missed?” John asked.

“Something happened in the pub we don’t know about” Brian commented.

The image of Mary dragging you to the bathroom by the wrist sparked his curiosity. He was the only one apart from Roger who saw it, and he didn’t mention it to anyone.

Roger stopped listening somewhere around Freddie's words concerning drama and paid exclusive attention to what was happening outside.

An unfamiliar car that could only belong to Gideon pulled over in front of the house. He saw you climb out with him and head to the door.

“Hey, baby!” you hugged Sherlock after walking in and taking your coat off. “How’s my favourite boy doin’? Oh my God yes, I love you too my baby prince”

Sherlock barked happily a few times.

Hearing his paws against the floor, quickly running to announce your arrival to Her Majesty, made you smile from ear to ear.

“Sherlock ignored you totally”

“It’s fine. Can we go to your bedroom?”

“Okay”

The four of them heard the conversation.

Roger froze, and the others wanted the Grim Reaper to take them in time to escape the awkwardness.

Leaning with your shoulder against the living room door frame, you took off your heels.

“Hey guys," you greeted, undoing your ponytail and shaking out your hair.

“Hi, (Y/N)” John and Brian responded in unison.

“How’d it go?” Freddie asked straight forward.

Roger chewed his bottom lip, incapable to keep his eyes off you. The way the fabric of your jeans hugged you was distracting, but as soon as Freddie made sure to try and collect information, his eyes and ears snapped upwards to hear every single word of what was going on around him.

“Horrible” you announced. “The play exquisite, amen to that, but we had a large family with children behind us that wouldn’t shut up”

It wasn’t after your rambling that you saw Roger standing in one corner. His jersey was so tight you could appreciate a tiny hint of his belly button.

You stared at each other for a bit: you sent him a mini smile that he didn’t respond to. On the contrary, his lips pressed together.

He was jealous.

So fucking jealous.

He felt like one big wolf caged, ready to storm out as soon as someone were to release him.

You got your eyes back on Freddie, colour mounting in your cheeks at the excruciating gaze Roger put you to test.

“This is Gideon, guys. Old friend of mine” you said, patting his shoulder.

Brian was the only one to say hi this time. John and Freddie simply nodded with a smile, Freddie pouring wine into a glass.

Sprawled across the sofa now, Roger looked imperturbable. He kept on twirling a drumstick and stealing quick looks at Gideon: he had his head shaved off, he was bony and very quiet around new people.

At 6:45 a.m. the next day, Roger woke up due to a bad dream of his drumkit being set on fire by accident because of Freddie.

Patting Sherlock’s head along the way, Roger’s steps took him to the kitchen to get some water.

Eyebrows furrowed as the light was switched on already, he couldn’t believe his eyes when Gideon turned it off and almost bumped into him in the hallway.

“Oh. Sorry, lad”

Had he spent the night here?! With you?! Roger didn’t speak for a few seconds.

“What are you doing here?”

“I stayed over for the night. I’m leaving in the morning… don’t worry” Gideon said, perfectly aware that the drummer didn’t appreciate his presence.

God, Roger was so obvious.

Gideon left to go back to sleep and Roger considered crashing his head into the wall.

Shoulders deflating and hands on his face, he understood it was time to give up on you. You pushed him to no other option.

//

An enormous impulse to stab a knife through Roger’s chest was dangerously growing inside you for the fiftieth time in the last half an hour. It sent your brain reeling how dumb he could be on purpose.

Jumping onto your bed, you reached for a magazine and started to flip through the pages, not really reading any of it. It was for the best, you needed to distract yourself or you’d indeed end up doing something stupid.

His ‘rocker’ habits started to get up your nose. You lost count of the number of times you told him not to bring home any of his bootlicker groupies.

You were already doing them a huge favour, but that's abusing your trust on large-scale.

There was a soft knock on the door.

Just like everyone could recognize someone’s footsteps after living together for some time, you could also tell who was behind such gentle noise.

“Come on in, Bri, come and fucking help me count to ten. Suddenly I don’t know anymore” you tossed the magazine away. It landed on top of the mountain of clothes scattered on the floor.

Lying now on your belly with your face against the pillow, you sensed the bed sank a bit when he took a seat next to you.

“You know,” he spoke, “it will only make things worse if you let him get to you like that”

“Oh, that’s rich” you snapped. “He’s been pushing my buttons for weeks now. I’m human, of course I’m gonna end up exploding”

Brief pause of you chewing your gum and Brian rubbing his thumbs against each other.

“I haven’t exploded yet, though” you reconsidered. “He better stop testing me”

“You’re just proving my point” Brian laughed.

You turned your head in his direction and shot him a look.

Brian patted your back with encouragement.

“How about I take the evening off and we go for a bike ride? Would that cheer you up?”

“Yes!” you cried, getting up.

A little getaway sounded marvellous.

Besides the fact that spending time with Brian was one of your favourite things to do ever since you met him, it was a beautiful day outside. Too beautiful to waste it indoors. The sky was entirely blue, not a single cloud spoiling the bright rays of sunshine from shining.

“The boys won’t mind?” you asked.

“We’ve been locked in the studio for days, not a single break. Freddie’s working hard in a new piece on the piano, John surely needs some time off too, and Roger’s keeping himself entertained. They won’t even notice I’m gone” Brian explained.

“Maybe John wants to join us” you added, looking for a most comfortable pair of boots.

“I don’t know, I’ll go ask him”

After lacing up your shoes you reunited with Brian downstairs and smiled widely when you saw John standing next to him, although disappointment overtook your face when Brian pouted at you. John wasn’t tagging along?

“Deaky?”

“Freddie asked me first to go shopping with him, sorry” he welcomed you in his arms when you opened yours to embrace him. “Everyone wants to hang out with me and I can’t please everybody at once” he winked at you.

“Brian told me he was gonna lock himself up with the piano the whole day, huh?”

Brian’s mouth curved into an apologetic smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I deserve to treat myself too, my dear” Freddie sang, going down the stairs with his characteristic grace and a triumphant smug look.

The four of you started discussing your plans for the rest of the day.

They were going to the mall, seeing as Freddie wanted to renew his wardrobe. John was okay with the idea of rating outfits, but everything was a good excuse to go out and relax the mind a little, overwhelmed by having worked so many weeks non-stop. The album was almost done, and Rheid already mentioned to them something about touring Japan after the launch.

Perhaps they could find something interesting to wear on stage.

Bri and you preferred to get on the bikes and ride aimlessly instead, seeking some peace.

They headed to the van and Brian excused himself saying he needed to go to the bathroom.

You were gently tossing your hair in front of the round mirror hung on the main hall waiting for him, trying to tame the baby hairs that were all over the place.

You heard the clacking of heels approaching, and within seconds a stunning blonde doll was behind you.

Staring at each other in the glass, she bit her inside cheek, her gaze making it clear that she was mentally criticizing your appearance.

She felt special? She wasn’t, you wanted to tell her. The fourth one in a week maybe?

“Can I help you?” you began with one eyebrow raised.

“I was just leaving”

She took one step forward and wiped off the smeared lipstick around her lips.

“Roger’s asleep” she informed, chin up as she cleaned herself.

“Good to know”

She held her purse in between her arm and hip and gave you a half smile.

“Nice house” she smiled and clucked her tongue.

You didn’t respond and waited for her to get out of your sight.

When she closed the door, you let out a grunt.

“Roger Taylor, you’re a fucking pain in the ass” you condemned with your eyes shut, and flinched at the unexpected contact of a big hand on your shoulder, opening them.

Brian.

"I grabbed a few snacks and two bottles of water," he said contently, turning over himself a little for you to actually see his stuffed backpack.

You chuckled. What would you do without this precious soul?

“We’ll be gone for less than two hours, Bri”

“Just in case”

You stroked his chin fondly, getting a beautiful smile from him in return, and both walked out without worrying about leaving a note for Roger in case he woke up and saw the house empty.

//

Much to your amazement, you finished the supplies Brian had brought with him. Stopping at one of the bars in the nearest port before returning to Rockfield Farm was his idea.

People were enjoying the soft breeze of the first moments of the night before it was too cold to be outside.

"(Y/N)?" Brian asked softly.

You took the beer to your lips.

Brian sighed.

“What happened between you and Roger? I know he can be a little bitch sometimes, but you guys were together all the time and now—“

"It was a misunderstanding"

“Misunderstanding? What was a misunderstanding?”

Brian looked startled. Nothing was clicking.

Out of the blue, Mary’s intrusion to yours and Roger’s heated moment in the club seemed to be gaining weight for him.

“That day in the pub,” he started, and you turned your head away holding your breath, “what happened?”

"Nothing," you said, picking at your nails absentmindedly.

That wasn't enough for Brian.

"Look at me"

You did.

“Are you lying?”

“What would that get me?" you answered with a question, avoiding saying a resounding ‘no’.

"I don't know," he responded, resting his elbows on the table and framing his hands on either side of his face.

A personality trait of yours and many people, you hoped, was that you didn’t enjoy lying to the people you loved, and since you were aware that what you said wasn’t true to an extent you didn’t want to deny it again to try to convince him.

Everyone saw you and Roger flirting, but what happened between you and Mary was yours and Mary’s business. And possibly, just possibly, Roger’s.

“He’s been acting weird since…,” he looked up to the sky, mentally counting, “since that day you brought Gabriel home”

Putting your head in your hands for the slightest second, you wished Brian’d shut up and talk about anything but this. You didn’t even tell him he fucked up the boy’s name.

You folded your arms dropping back on the seat and chose to not open your mouth.

“You know it’s because he thinks you fucked him, right?” Brian sentenced.

He didn’t want you to think he was blaming you or insinuating anything. You were free to do the heck you wanted to do. He was just pointing out the obvious.

“I do”

Brian didn’t say anything.

“I do, and… But what if I did? It’s my life. I don’t owe Roger anything” you answered, spreading your arms.

He remained silent and just kept on listening to the words erupting out of your mouth.

“It’s not like we were dating. Why’s he so butthurt? I’m not stupid. I know he’s bringing those girls just to provoke me”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Fuck Gabriel?”

“Fuck no. We’ve known each other since we were four, and we happen to meet up every now and then. He’s moving to Dublin soon with his sister. It’s a tradition that he stays over when he pays me a visit. It’s not like there was a single room available, y’know” you hinted, and Brian quickly nodded. Yep, because of them. “That’s what we did, Brian. Talk and fall asleep. And Roger instead of asking keeps fucking Barbie after Barbie. Fuck him, really”

“Sure”

“Sure what?” you snapped, irritation clear in your voice.

Brian succeeded in hiding a smirk.

“Screw him. He deserves it”

You looked at him as if he were fooling you. You really didn’t know where the conversation was going anymore.

“Screw him for living his life like you’re doing”

Ouch.

You blushed violently.

“That’s…”

"You're jealous, (Y/N). It's alright, love. Roger's being a jerk. What I find strange," he said back with a worried face, the tone in his voice making it clear that he knew you knew what he was referring to but were refusing to tell him, "is that in the beginning it was you giving him the cold shoulder. He came to me, you know, asking if I had the tiniest clue of what was going on”

Jesus, if Brian’s goal was to make you feel like trash, he was doing the job quite good.

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to tell me,” Brian spoke, lowering his head and glancing at your fingers grasping the beer bottle tight, “but things are the way they are because you’re being stubborn and dishonest with each other”

//

“Bri, you’ve got to stop” Mary laughed timidly, hella uneasy due to Brian’s cold gaze upon her.

Brian, John and Mary were chilling downstairs waiting for you. Freddie and Roger were in the studio instead, having a laugh and playing around. They were all looking their best just for you. It was the 19th, your long awaited graduation day. It felt dreamlike to you, but it was finally here.

Nothing and no one would ruin it.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Brian questioned in a tranquil tone.

“What?” she put her brows together.

John, sitting with one leg over the other, lowered the newspaper and stared at them over the rim of the page.

“Don’t be silly, Mary. Whatever you said to (Y/N) that day in the pub, you messed everything up”

Mary was surprised that Brian came at her like that. They never argued, never. But she could tell the subject mattered to him.

Shifting on her feet, she hesitated where to start.

“Seeing as you care so much about (Y/N), like I do," she reiterated, "you should know that I made her a favour"

“Who are you to interfere, Mary?”

“C’mon, you know Roger better than I do and know that he doesn’t take commitment seriously“

“I asked you one thing. Who are you to interfere?”

Mary’s face went blank. She looked at John, but he quickly hid behind the newspaper only to peek at her again as soon as her eyes met the ground.

“For Christ’s sake, Mary! Who are you to interfere!” Brian shouted, pushing for an answer.

She clenched her fists.

“What’s happening here?” Freddie’s voice interrupted.

Both turned their heads at him, surprised that he was back so soon.

“Nothing” she hurried to say, and sent Brian a pleading look.

"Nothing?" Brian asked sarcastically, his voice raising a bunch of octaves.

Freddie and Roger stepped further into the room.

When Roger’s eyes connected with Brian’s, he knew something important concerning him was the main topic.

His eyes wandered between him and Mary.

Brian gestured her to speak.

She'd never felt this way before, since a mighty character was one of her many strengths. A woman with little hesitations. Roles changed, though. She couldn't even dare to give Freddie a fast glance, afraid that he'd hate her for this. She truly cared about you a lot, and clearly wasn't fond of Roger. She thought she was doing the right thing.

You and Freddie were the ones who mattered to her the most in the world, and losing you both because of this drama would destroy her.

Roger, fed up of so much suspense, proceed to move closer to Mary. He stared right into her eyes.

“What have you done?” he asked with an alarming and shocking put together voice, to which Mary consequently felt goosebumps run through her spine.

It was now or never.

“I encouraged her to stay away from you. I assumed you just wanted to…” she made a vague gesture with her hand, “and I didn’t want her heart to be broken because of you”

“Mary!!” Freddie gasped.

Temperature in his body building up, and face as red as the blood boiling in his veins, Roger’s hands went to rub the back of his neck where one vein was perilously showing.

John took a long sip of his drink, not really prepared for shit to go down now.

“You… you…” Roger didn’t know how to put into words everything that he wanted to say.

Mary’s lower lip started trembling. Freddie didn’t like one bit seeing her so vulnerable, but he couldn’t force himself to feel sorry for her when he didn’t.

“Christ, are you going to cry now? You’re fucking sick in the head” Roger sassed, exasperated.

The colour drained out of Mary's face yet again due to the embarrassment he was putting her through.

“Fuck you. You don’t know anything about me or my feelings” Roger cursed.

“They sure aren’t that strong when you’ve been fucking women here, in her bloody home!” Mary lectured, hoping to win some confidence in her speech.

“I DIDN’T FUCK THEM! I brought them only to end up kicking them out every time because I couldn’t!” Roger snapped, tightening his expression. “I like her too much!”

The room fell silent.

Roger stared at his mates with arms slightly raised at the quietness. His gaze paced between all of them, who couldn’t articulate a single sound even if they tried. He then turned to Mary and snapped a finger at her with threatening eyes.

“Now I’m gonna go upstairs and explain everything to (Y/N), and you better don’t interrupt us, got it? You already did enough”

"Rog, I think she does get it," Freddie said coming at Mary's rescue, worried that he might spit at her.

“Let her speak, she has a mouth, right? A fucking stupid dirty mouth that should’ve been kept closed”

“Talk to me with respect, you asshole!” Mary screamed angrily.

“You didn’t earn it!!!!” he growled.

John cleared his throat loud and clear in an attempt to make them shut up in time.

“Guys?”

Five heads snapped at the bottom of the stairs, where you were.

Barefoot but dressed in the pastel blue dress Roger gifted you what seemed like an eternity ago. Your hair wasn't done yet, up in a bun so it wouldn't get in your way when doing the makeup.

Tugging at her earring, Mary’s face dropped, embarrassed.

As soon as Roger’s eyes landed on you, his legs turned to jelly.

He didn’t think twice: in a hurry he grabbed you by the arm, basically dragging you out of there, until you were both locked up in your bedroom, and murmured an apology when slamming the door by accident.

Seeing as his lighter didn't want to cooperate plus the agonising need to smoke, Roger began to hiss barbarities under his breath.

“What’s the matter? We have to leave in twenty minutes” you said, sitting down.

“No, get up”

“What? I don’t want to, I have to—“

“Please, get up. I can’t speak to you if we’re uneven”

You did as told, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Fine. I’m standing up now”

Anchoring your attention discreetly on his body language, you came to realize that whatever was holding him back was causing him so much trouble.

He drew nearer to you, but regretted it and stepped away. You straightened and gave a very short laugh, impatient.

“Roger”

“Do you still regret what happened in the pub?”

“What does this have to do with… anything, now?” you blurted out with difficulty, hot in the face.

It was the first time you were talking about it when sober.

Roger jerked his head towards you, staring intensely.

“Does it matter?” you breathed, saddened, learning that he wanted a much more elaborated response you didn’t have.

“Of course it fucking—“ Roger stopped there and decided to start again. “Of course it matters”

Because you didn’t know where he was going, you didn’t speak. Roger continued.

“I don’t expect you to care, but I’ve got a few things I want to clear up”

He looked so desperate you found no choice.

“I’m listening”

“Honestly, I… God, you’re so smart but so stupid at the same time”

You blushed. Dude… what the?

“I… I care so much about you, and you don’t even seem to notice shit”

He paused and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Those girls I invited over I didn't do anything with"

“Woah, not even a blowjob? Hard to believe so. The last one fucking came to me with a… triumphant smile, and swollen lips, and… Ugh”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Maybe I made out with one. But that’s it, we only kissed. I was drunk, I can’t even remember her face. Believe me. One of them even punched me for dumping her before she could even unzip her dress”

You laughed at that but quickly covered your mouth. You were supposed to be serious about this, you couldn’t just laugh like that!

Roger shook his head but smiled a little.

“(Y/N),” he called, back to the relevant stuff. “Mary told me everything. Now I get it when you thought that staying away from me was the best option. My reputation doesn’t help, I know”

His eyes were incredibly soft.

There was an intense wish to deny it, to convince yourself that you weren’t thrilled about him opening up to you. Who could you fool? That’s everything you ever wanted from him. But you couldn’t allow yourself to give in. There was no way that this would have a happy ending.

He sighed deeply.

“I miss you. Talk to me again, I can’t bear it anymore. Next time I’ll be nicer to Gideon, I promise. But if he hurts you I won’t hesitate to kill him” a tormenting sentiment devoured him whole as he confessed.

You shook your head.

“There’s nothing between Gideon and I. A boy and a girl can be friends, Roger”

“But you slept together and I thought—“ he replied with flushed cheeks.

“We. Did. Nothing” you reassured him.

Shame drawn on his face, he nodded and you clapped your hands upfront.

“My turn”

Roger cocked his head in your direction questioningly.

“I’m moving to New York by the end of the season, approximately”

He first looked at you unblinkingly and then stared off into space.

“You can't," he said after a while pursing his lips, breath hitching in his throat.

"What do you mean ‘I can't'?" you asked suppressing a shy chuckle, your heart suddenly pounding vigorously in your chest.

“You can’t leave like that”

“Well… I’ve got nothing to look forward here”

Mouth set in a hard line, a new idea better than the one he had of buying you the dress held on to his conflicted mind. The light at the end of the tunnel didn't seem so far away now. He just hoped it all would work out as he wanted it too.

He checked his watch.

“If you don’t hurry up you’ll be late”

His attitude was confusing you. You slowly nodded.

“Are you alright, Roger? Your mood swings are scaring me”

“I am”

Your heart shook furiously at his following declaration.

“You look absolutely ravishing, love. Money well spent”

********

tagging; @sweetdaisys @multifics @incorrcctqueen @namelesslosers @benders-diamond-earring @mercurycrowley @ixchel-9275

[certifiedskywalker]

Better Man - Jaime Lannister

You had not seen Jaime Lannister in years, since The War of the Five Kings when he was held as your family’s prisoner. However, despite you being a Stark and he a Lannister, you both found yourselves falling for one another; as much as you both hate it. When you finally reunite, it’s in war once again. Perhaps this time, you’ll both stand more of a chance.

The freshly fallen snow crunched under your feet as you walked through the courtyard of Winterfell. Winter had arrived and with it, a new threat to your family. At first it had been the lying snakes that called King’s Landing home, the Lannisters, then the Boltons; now it was the dead. Despite the impending army marching South towards your home, you found yourself lost in thought of past Stark enemies. One in particular.

You could vividly remember the day when Robb had outsmarted and ultimately capture the famed Jaime Lannister. His father had murdered your father and you were overjoyed to watched him suffer in his cage. You and your own direwolf would stalk about, watching as he grew coated in mud and grime. However, as in your Stark nature, you felt a lack of honor watching the Kingslayer waste away.

“Come to gloat?” He had asked one day when you had stalked up to his holding cell.

“I wish,” you muttered and begrudgingly stuck a small meat pie in between the bars. Jaime had stared at it, not trusting what his eyes had seen. “Are you going to take it?”

“T-Thank you,” he said, staring at you as he slowly took the food from your hand. You had watched as he ate it and had found yourself wondering what he had looked like all cleaned up. You had heard he was a sight to behold; Lannister gold hair and sharp features. Then he was covered in dirt, but, as you looked back on the memory, your hearts feeling remained the same.

“Lady Y/N, we have returned,” you turned your head, somewhat glad a voice had pulled you out from your reflection. Your eyes landed on Lady Brienne and Podrick Payne.

“So you have,” you said with a soft smile, “have you any good news from King’s Landing?” When you asked, Brienne nodded, taking a step towards you.

“Queen Cersei has agreed to help quell the threat in the North, my Lady. Your brother Jon is said to return shortly with Queen Daenerys in White Harbor.” You nodded at her words, feeling a slight stab of hope in your heart.

“That is good news, will you tell Sansa and Arya of this? I mean to pray at the Weirwood tree now.” The two of them both nodded at your words.

“Of course my lady,” Brienne said proudly, “come Podrick.” You watched as they walked past and you fought the urge to speak up. No, don’t. It’ll only make it worse.

“Brienne,” you called out, getting the lady knight’s attention as she turned back to you. You motioned for her, and only her, to come back.

“Yes, my lady?” She asked, her bright blue eyes slightly concerned.

“Did you see,” you took a deep breath, “Jaime Lannister?” Brienne gave you a knowing look before nodding.

“He is to lead the Queen’s forces North. They will arrive in a few days time.” You took a shaky breath, looking away from her face with slight shame.

“He is capable,” you said, trying your best to play down your joy at the news.

“My lady,” Brienne started, “there is nothing to hide with me. I swore an oath to your Lady mother to protect you, no matter your own feelings.”

“Thank you, Brienne,” you said, swallowing hard, “but that does not change the shame I feel for having fallen for my family’s enemy.”

“Jaime Lannister is no longer the enemy,” Brienne started, “the dead are the enemy. He may have been long ago, in that cage, but things have changed now.” You met Brienne’s eyes once more, not entirely believing her.

“Do you think he has changed?” You asked in a whisper. Brienne simply shook her head.

“He has only revealed his true self, my Lady. You’ll admire him more when he returns to you.” You nodded slowly and Brienne started to walk away. She stopped after a step, turning once more to face you. “Someone once told me, and I believe he told you, we do not choose whom we love, Lady Y/N.”

With that, Brienne walked off to find your sisters, leaving you alone to your thoughts. Those last words echoed in your head as you walked off to the tree your father would pray at nearly everyday. Once you arrived, to fell before the tree, resting against the white trunk. You closed your eyes hoping for peace but found yourself lost in Jaime again.

“Your mother is planning to set me free,” Jaime muttered softly. You had turned your head up and looked at him. He was still sitting in his cage, but you couldn’t help but find him attractive. A beard had grown in around his chin and, despite the dirt, you could still see his bright, brilliant eyes.

“I overheard her scheming,” you said, a bittersweet smile on your lips, “it will be a shame to see you go, Ser Jaime.” He let out a hoarse chuckle at your words.

“I find myself missing you already, Lady Y/N,” you met his eyes, noting that there was only sincerity in his tone.

“Jaime,” you said warningly, “it almost sounds like you’re telling the truth.”

“That would be because I am,” he said, moving his chained hand towards you in a gesture. “If it wasn’t for these chains, this cage, this war…”

You both grew silent, reflecting on the time you had shared together. The chats you had had, had you actually grown to have feeling for this man? A Lannister, your family’s enemy? You met Jaime’s gaze once more, and saw that he was already looking at you.

“You’re a Lannister,” you whispered sadly, and Jaime cocked his head.

“And you are a Stark,” he said with a soft smile, “what a pair we would make. Can you imagine?” You didn’t say a word, because you could imagine it. You could see yourself and Jaime being happy; away from war, possibly away from Westeros.

“I cannot, we are….your family and my own..” you trailed off, unable to say your truth. Jaime seemed to understand and still held your gaze.

“Y/N, I want you to come with me when your mother lets me go. I could take you to Casterly Rock, away from this war all together and-”

“What of your sister?” you countered and Jaime seemed to be caught off guard. “I have heard of the rumors, too many to not hold some truth as much as it pains me to say such a thing. How can I know that you love me?”

The question came out of your mouth before you realized what you had asked. The word love felt foreign when speaking to anyone else besides your family; but there you were, standing before a Lannister and asking him how you could tell if he loved you. You swallowed hard, waiting for Jaime’s response.

“We don’t get to choose who we love, Y/N,” he whispered, “if we could I would’ve have chosen someone far more agreeable to my wild plans of escape.” You couldn’t stop the little smile from blooming on your lips at his words. He looked at you, his eyes wishing for your’s to meet his own.

“Aye,” you said, already feeling a pang of sadness in your heart, “that would have been far more easy.” You started to get up, moving away from your sitting spot near Jaime.

“Y/N, wait,” he started, the chains jingled as he tried to move. You looked back at him, letting him see the tears that flowed down your cheeks.

“I wish you the best of travels, Ser Jaime,” you said through your urge to sob, “both to King’s Landing and on your journey to becoming a more improved person.”

“Y/N!” Despite his shouting, you had kept walking. You made it to your tent that night, tears running down your face and cries threatening to spill out your mouth. That night, you could remember how much you sobbed into your pillow, hoping that your mother or brother wouldn’t hear. It had been a long night.

The next day was no better. Men loyal to your House were in outrage as the Stark’s greatest asset had escaped in the later hours of the night. Robb’s forces were running about, shouting grabbing weapons quickly. You looked around and found your mother standing there, watching it all happen. You walked to stand beside her, feigning slight panic.

“What has happened?” Catelyn let out a shaky breath before looking at you.

“Jaime Lannister has escaped,” she said coldly.

“Good” you said, equally as cold with tears running down your face, “he was more trouble than he was worth.” Catelyn looked down at you, but you had already started to walk away. You found yourself at his now empty cage, part of you wishing you had gone with him.

Many days had passed since Brienne had arrived back at Winterfell with the good news of more forces against the dead. Jon and the Dragon Queen had arrived in the North, easing the duties of being the Ladies of Winterfell off your shoulders as well as Sansa’s. It gave you more time to stew on your feelings and ignore them as much as you could.

You’d wheel Bran to the Weirwood, so you could reflect and he could fly. Even with Bran being the Three Eyed Raven, you could still sense your little brother’s heart. The all knowing aspect of him however, was distracting. He truly knew everything.

“You’re in love with Jaime Lannister,” you opened your eyes wide at the sound of Bran’s voice. His eyes were no longer white, but the same brown as Jon’s.

“Bran, I-I…”

“The past is the past, Y/N. The Night King is coming. Petty fights are to be ignored until the war before us has ended.” You could only stare at your brother in silence.

“Bran, I don’t think-”

“Sorry to interrupt, Lord and Lady, but the King as requested your presence Lord Stark,” the maester said quickly. You dipped your head at him as he started to wheel Bran away; leaving you alone with your own thoughts. Leaning against the tree, you allowed your mind to clear for split second. After the brief moment, thoughts of Jaime flooded back into your mind.

You wondered when he would arrive, if he would, and if he did, what would you do? For a year you had longed to see him again. Now that the time was here, your heart faltered. You knew Jon would not approve and any relationship would complicate so much. War seemed to be the binding thread between you and Jaime Lannister.

Opening your eyes, you were met with the fresh, bright snow. Reality sunk back in and you let out a heavy sigh. You stood, brushing off the snowflakes that clung to your warm gown. With one step you had turned around and come face to face with a new reality.

“It’s been a while,” he said, his short blond hair whipping gently in the wind. He no longer had that messy beard or the signature long hair. You took a few steps forward and so did he. The gap between you and Jaime was already starting to close.

“It has,” you said softly, taking another step. His eyes scanned your body up and down, taking you in after so long. You did the same, noting how attractive he looked in a more northern style of clothing. He takes another step.

“I’ve missed you dearly, Y/N,” Jaime said, sincerity dripping from his lips. You felt tears burn behind your eyes and you tried your best to keep them hidden.

“Cersei has done us a great service by sending you and more troops to combat the White Walkers.” Jaime looked down at his shoes for a brief moment before meeting your eyes again. You felt your heart skip a beat when you held his gaze.

“We are no longer enemies, Y/N,” Jaime started, “we’re on the same side.”

“For now,” you said coldly, “that could change quite quickly after the dead are slain for the final time.” Jaime frowned and shook his head.

“I’m not going back after this,” Jaime said, his eyes pleading for you to listen, “King’s Landing is no home for me now.” Your brows furrowed at his words and he took a step closer. “I listened to what you said to me that night. I have tried to improve, become a better man because of you. For you.”

“Brienne has hinted as such,” you said, realizing now that you two were closer than ever. “She traveled with you that night, yes?”

“She did,” Jaime said, almost fondly.

“You must have grown close,” you said pointedly, taking a step away from him.

“We did,” Jaime admitted, “but every night I thought of you. Not her, not Cersei; you. I thought of ways to prove to you, to show that we can be together. I would still like that.”

“Jaime, while there may not be a cage that separates us now, what of later? Your sister will call for you or you’ll be-”

“Y/N,” Jaime was now standing right infront of you now, his gaze holding yours with a seriousness you had hardly seen in him before. “It’s you, it will always be you. I don’t care about approval, not anymore. We could all die soon, so why not enjoy the time we have...together?”

“Together,” you whispered in agreement. Jaime let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the word finally escaped your lips. With a cage no longer separating you, he leaned forward, shifting his hand to your waist carefully. Almost like he was scared to hurt you, Jaime held back a for a moment.

“Together,” he echoed softly and you nodded with happy tears in your eyes. Finally, after a long year of wondering and longing, Jaime pressed his lips to yours; and despite all the war that had surrounded you both previously, all the troubles in the present melted away like snow in the spring. You had made Jaime Lannister a better man and now he was yours.

[statementsbegin]

predatory.

day three of @tmafemslashweek (hurt/comfort).

(also read on ao3)

                    Something in Daisy had changed, Basira is certain of it. Having known her for over a year now, and having been partners for the majority of that time, Basira believes herself to be better at reading Daisy than most. After all, spending almost every working hour at someone’s side would mean learning their movements, subtle tells and subconscious habits, even if getting past their reserved, hard exterior is more difficult than anticipated.

          Because Daisy has always been harsh. For the first few months of their partnership, she would only let Basira see her the way she wanted to be seen. No indications of anything beyond professionalism were given, despite Basira’s persistence to connect with her. While on the verge of relenting, it appeared Basira had gotten through to her somehow - perhaps it was the conversation following a particularly dangerous case turning sour, over drinks in one of the nicer local bars. It became a thing, after that, to get drinks together after a case was solved.

          So when Daisy had been late after two cases in a row, and missed the third entirely, Basira knows there’s something wrong.

          As she sinks back against the cushioned seats of their usual booth, checking her phone with wearing patience, she wonders if Daisy will show tonight. 9:37 PM. Almost forty minutes late now. Tapping her fingertips absentmindedly against the glass, Basira distracts herself from the growing boredom by returning her thoughts to the closed case they are currently meant to be celebrating.

          It wasn’t supposed to end like that, not so soon. Though stakeouts never were Daisy’s thing, she had seemed particularly restless tonight. Never still for longer than a moment, she was always shifting, often switching between watching the dim street outside and pacing beside the window - somewhat reminiscent of a frustrated animal, caged. With nothing to do but wait and observe, the constant sound of footsteps began making Basira nervous. More than once had Basira considered asking her to stop. Turning, finally, the words died on her lips as Daisy’s expression twisted into something pained, like inaction physically hurt her. When she noticed Basira looking, the expression dropped into impassivity, as though Basira wouldn’t remember the blatant agony in her eyes.

          Chances to speak were torn away by the sudden uproar in shouting outside. Attention immediately snapping to the window, Daisy’s eyes widened with recognition and she bolted for the door. In moments, Basira was sprinting a few steps behind her, both pursuing the target through darkened streets. Separating in an attempt to trap him in the tangle of alleyways and side-streets, Basira’s drumming heart began to slow as she waited in the concealing shadows of a particularly quiet alleyway corner, waiting. Watching.

          Barely minutes later, Basira witnessed the change in Daisy. Neither the target nor her partner noticed Basira as they both charged towards her, and Daisy was noticeably closing the distance between them. In the warm orange light of a streetlight overhead,  Daisy’s brown eyes burned with fiery anger, pinned onto the man’s back, his shoulders within her grasp. Lurching forwards, Daisy collided hard with him, tackling him down onto the rough concrete ground beneath her.

          Again, Basira found herself likening Daisy’s movements to that of an animal. Predatory. Ferocity Basira had never seen in Daisy before had consumed her, stoked by the chase - the hunt. With the way her partner tugged on the captive man’s arms, wrestling him into forced stillness, ignorant to his cries of pain, and the way her burning eyes latched onto his throat, there was a fleeting moment Basira worried that Daisy was going for the kill.

          Basira had to stop this. Moving from the shadows, she raced to Daisy’s side.

          But the inferno in Daisy’s eyes died down and, as though confused, her deathly grip on the man slackened until his wrists slipped from her hands. Even in this light, Basira could clearly see the reddened and bruising skin where Daisy’s hands had been. Beneath Daisy, with her knee digging roughly into his spine, the man had begun bleeding from many scrapes along his cheek and a deep gash on his forehead, but he was silent and still despite the obvious pain he was in. Deciding to deal with him afterwards, Basira’s gaze returned to Daisy.

          As her partner’s eyes, glistening with tears, met hers, Basira could see nothing but fear and shock within them. Neither were something Basira had seen on Daisy’s face before and, looking into her eyes now, she hoped she’d never have to see that look again. The look of confusion and fear, desperation and vulnerability - it was momentary, vanishing in an instant.

          With a stability to her voice she certainly didn’t feel, Basira began softly, “Daisy, wh-?”

          “Don’t.” The sharpness to Daisy’s tone startled Basira back into silence. Raising her hand slowly to wipe away the stray tear rolling down her cheek, Daisy’s harshness fell flat with the subtle tremble to her voice, “just don’t, alright? It’ll be better if you don’t. I- I’ll get it under control.”

          With those words still present in her mind, Basira’s thoughts are disrupted by the door to the bar slamming shut. Glancing back, she catches Daisy standing by the entrance, presumably looking over the patrons to find her. Lifting her hand in a half-hearted wave, Basira watches as Daisy’s eyes land on her and her partner begins, with slight hesitance, walking towards her.

          Looking significantly more composed now than the last time Basira saw her, Daisy had cleaned up what she could of the fight’s aftermath. In some final attempt to escape, the man had taken a desperate swing for Daisy, but the fight hadn’t lasted long. Regardless, Daisy took more hits than she usually would, and the cut along her cheekbone serves as a reminder of her failed attempt at disarming the man when he brandished a knife. Basira remembers her panic seeing how the blood had gushed from it but now, with the blood washed off and the cut cleaned, she sees it really isn’t as bad as she’d thought. Might still scar, though.

          With her hands buried deep in the pockets of her black leather jacket, worn with age and use, Daisy slides into a seat opposite Basira in the booth and offers a fleeting half-smile and rushed apology in greeting. Sighing heavily as she slumps back, it seems like the first chance Daisy has gotten to rest even slightly all night. Although it is far from silent in the bustling room around them, the absence of conversation is awfully apparent. Still, the only thing Basira can think to talk about is what happened earlier and - given Daisy’s current situation of looking anywhere but at her - she assumes it wouldn’t go well.

          “I’ll go get drinks,” Daisy announces, standing abruptly and moving towards the bar without waiting for any sort of response from Basira.

          It takes a while but, eventually, Daisy returns to the booth with alcohol for the both of them. Quietly, as she takes the offered glass, Basira thanks her and takes a long sip. This time, she refuses to let the silence between them settle.

          “I don’t know what happened earlier,” Basira begins, and the subtle tension rising in Daisy’s shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed, “but I won’t mention it again, if you don’t want me to. Just, tell me this.” Tentative in her speech, Basira watches the conflict in Daisy’s expression. At least Daisy is looking at her, now. “You aren’t in trouble, are you?”

          Under furrowed brows, Daisy’s confused eyes are boring into Basira’s. It’s difficult to tell whether Daisy sees the genuine concern within their steadiness. “What?”

          “I want to know if you’re in some kind of trouble, that’s all,” Basira says seriously, setting the glass down on the table. Although curiosity burned within her, Basira has convinced herself she’ll be content with knowing just that.  “I don’t know what caused you to lose yourself like that. The only reasonable explanation I could come up with was drugs, and -”

          At that, Daisy laughs. Not out of amusement, or shock, or even mockery. It’s a harsh, bitter laugh, at some sort of cruel joke that Basira doesn’t get. Muttering under her breath and into the glass she’s raising to her lips, Daisy replies, “It's no drug, but it sure as hell is addictive.”

          “Sorry?” Basira asks, Daisy’s words too muffled for her to hear. Instead of repeating herself, Daisy takes a gulp of the alcohol and shakes her head slowly. Again, she drinks, until the glass is empty, and it clatters against the table as she places it down.

          “Nothing. I’m not in that kind of trouble.” In the slight pause, Daisy meets Basira’s eyes again, and she gives a slight smile. “Thank you, though.” Before Basira has the chance to respond, Daisy is out of her seat and walking back towards the bar. Whatever the change in Daisy is, and however resistant Daisy is to talking about it, Basira wants to help her. As her partner, and a friend.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Leatherwing Rating: K+ Genre: Angst, Friendship Characters: Héctor, original characters Warnings: Mentions of minor character death, BRIEF suicidal thoughts. Description: Not everyone has a spirit guide in the land of the dead; they only appear to those who truly need guidance, and who are willing to listen to that guidance once they understand. And many years ago, there was a time when Héctor met those qualifications. View all chapters here!

Chapter 3: Bite Summary: In which Héctor and his alebrije decide to start a new Dia de Muertos tradition.

“Mira, it’s just once a year—”

Peep!

“I know, but really, it’s just one day. One night, even!”

PEEP!

“Pizzicato!” Héctor cried, and the bat stopped her fluttering, though her feet were obstinately clinging to the handle of his guitar case. “I will play for you when we get back. Okay?”

Pizzicato opened her mouth, baring her teeth and making a distinctly displeased rattling noise.

For a moment Héctor felt like he was dealing with Coco when she was in one of her stubborn moods, and the thought immediately sent a pang through his chest, cementing his decision. Softening, he stooped down closer to the alebrije, who shut her mouth, but still glared. “I know you want me to play music for you now, but this… this is more important to me than anything. Do you understand?”

Pizzicato’s ear-wings folded back, and she dipped her head with a quiet whine. Finally she let go of the guitar case, flitting back into the air and over Héctor’s head.

Relieved, he got to his feet again, brushing off his pant legs to make sure they were still clean. He had to look his best, in case—when he crossed. “Good! Let’s go, then.” With a sharp whistle, he strode out the door and out of the apartment, Pizzicato casting one last glance at the guitar before dutifully following.

It wasn’t quite sunset yet, but the streets were already crowded, all manner of souls and alebrijes alike filling the streets with life (so to speak). The excitement was tangible as people carried baskets and even carts in the direction of the marigold bridges, while others rushed to the plazas and all the parties and concerts that would be held this night.

You’re sure you don’t want to join us? Juan had offered. I mean, it’s not like you get to cross any—

Héctor flinched, both at the words, and at the memory of Diego swiftly kicking Juan in the shin before he could finish. Offer is open, regardless, the band leader had said.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t cross—they just didn’t plan to spend the entire night on the other side. While some spent as much time as possible in the Land of the Living with their families, for others, the night was a simpler affair. And… well, there were a lot of souls out tonight, and a lot of money to be made with music.

But all the money in the world wouldn’t give Héctor what he wanted most right now.

“Oye, watch it!”

A hand pushed Héctor back, startling him out of his thoughts. On the street in front of him, right where he’d been about to put his foot, a snake alebrije hissed at him, its bright scales rapidly shifting colors as it shook its rattle. Its owner stooped down to scoop the snake up, and it slithered around the man’s shoulders before turning to glare at Héctor. “Uh—sorry, sorry,” Héctor said, forcing a smile as he stepped off to the side, closer to the sidewalk.

Pizzicato continued to flutter over his head, her buzz-flap a familiar, melodic rhythm.

“Good thing you don’t have to worry about that, eh?” he asked, grinning up at her. It was nice to have someone to talk to as he walked around town; occasionally it earned him looks, but he didn’t care. Honestly he could understand why, since he’d been a bit skeptical of spirit guides when he’d first come here.

Don’t worry, mijo, you get used to them! Sort of.

He says that because he’s still not used to the dragons.

Can anyone get used to dragons?!

Héctor’s heart clenched at the memory. This was the first Dia de Muertos he would spend without—

No, no, not again. He swallowed once, then again, trying to rid himself of the lump that was choking his throat. It would be a year in a few months, and yet even after all that time, the little things would still come back—little reminders that they were no longer there.

Peep!

Something soft settled against his head, and he sighed, idly reaching up to stroke Pizzicato’s shell. “Lo siento. I was thinking about them again,” he muttered. The bat gave a small whine in response. “They… had the same problem as me. Th-that is, when we got to the bridge, we couldn’t… um.” He shook himself bodily, no, no reason to think about that. “But I—I think they’ll—they would be proud of me, this time, when I make it.”

She didn’t respond, this time leaping off his head and fluttering back into the air.

“Hey! Just wait until you see my familia!” he said, swallowing down his anxiety as he looked back up at her. “My Coco would like you. I always told her how bats didn’t sing like birds do, but they dance in the air.”

Pizzicato gave a loud peep at that, weaving gracefully around the air up ahead of him. Some other skeletons even took notice, a few children pointing her out.

“Sí, just like that!” The crowds were getting denser now as they got closer to the Santa Cecilia gate, and he knew he would have a decent wait ahead of him. For a moment he frowned at the cluster of people ahead, but the colors of the bat were easily distracting. Shaking himself, he focused on her again. “I took her outside one night and we set out some sugar water, and sure enough, one came dancing through the sky. She loved it.”

Pizzicato did a loop-the-loop before fluttering back over to him, hooking herself onto the pouch on his belt.

“Maybe you can dance for her again, when we get there.”

Like before, she did not respond. It made something tug beneath his rib cage, but he ignored it, continuing to follow the crowd as they neared the gates. Perhaps she wasn’t making any noise because she didn’t know how to respond… or she didn’t believe him. It didn’t matter. She’d understand, once they crossed.

And they would. This time, he was certain of it.

“Ah… no, sorry, señor.”

The tension in Héctor’s chest seemed to solidify into a weight that plummeted through his rib cage, nearly making him crash to the cobblestones beneath him. “Wh-what?” he stammered, running a hand through his wig. ”It’s—it can’t be, not again. You’re sure you’re looking at the right page?”

The attendant eyed him over her glasses before staring down at the thick book in front of her again. It was full of names, organized by surname, and had either copies of photos or sketches of tributes pasted onto each page. Under his name (or what probably wasn’t his name—probably some poor hombre who happened to share the same name and hometown as him), there was nothing. She turned the book around for him to see, only to yank it back when he tried to snatch it away from her.

“Wait—give me that! There’s got to be a mistake!” Héctor cried, reaching out for the book in vain. Pizzicato was chirping frantically above his head, but he ignored her. “Please, it’s been so long since I—he—he had to tell my wife at some point. He’s told her by now, hasn’t he? Sh-she has to know I’m gone, Coco misses me—”

The rational part of him that had been shoved into the far corners of his mind knew he was hysterical, unreasonable, that this person could do nothing for him. But that was not the part that was in control right now.

Later he would realize that the poor woman was very unsettled by his desperate behavior and was trying valiantly to hide it under a calm, professional mask. As it was, though, for now she was simply a barrier, and it didn’t help when she continued: “Señor, I’m sorry, but you cannot cross. Please step back or I will call security.”

In years prior, his parents would have quietly pulled him away by this point, but without them to talk sense into him, he had nothing to hold him back. Nothing, except for—

“OUCH!”

He’d made a reach for the book again, only for what felt like several sharp needles to stab into his hand. Pizzicato was biting down into him, and not letting go. “AGH! Stop, stop—”

“Señor, por favor, listen to your alebrije.”

He looked down at Pizzicato, and she stared back at him—not with anger, but with sorrow. Something caught in his throat, and without another word, he stumbled away from the gates. The alebrije let go, and flitted after him.

At some point he found himself sitting on a bench, not quite sure when he’d got there or how far he was from the gates to the bridge. His hand still stung, but it was nothing compared to the terrible feeling building in his chest that was quickly threatening to overwhelm him.

Once again, he was denied the chance of getting to see his living family—his Imelda and his Coco and even Ernesto. And now he didn’t even have family on this side to spend the night with.

The feeling in his rib cage bubbled up through his throat, and he covered his face against the sobs that shook him.

Pizzicato was at his side immediately, settling lightly against his cheekbone, her wings wrapped gingerly around his head and shoulder. Her little tongue tickled the side of his face—an apology and a comfort. No other soul approached them—someone weeping just outside the gates was not a sight people liked to dwell on.

Eventually Héctor pulled her away from his face, holding her out in front of him as he fought to regain his composure. “Why can’t I cross, Pizzicato…?” he mumbled, swallowing back another hiccup. “Don’t they know? Don’t they… m-miss me?”

We don’t know, his papá would have said. There’s no good in tearing yourself apart trying to understand.

They still love you, his mamá would have said. Why would they not?

The bat, however, was unable to provide input, only tilting her head and licking his hand gingerly where she’d bitten it before.

“If they love me, why d-don’t they just… put up my photo?” Drawing in a shaking breath, he reached into his pouch, finding a carefully-folded piece of paper—a portrait of himself, taken back when he’d still been on tour with Ernesto. He’d thought someone might find the photo on his person when they buried him. Unless he’d been buried with it, but that might not be the case, someone from the Department of Family Reunions had explained to him when he’d first died. You woke up in possession of what was on your person when you’d died, and later, received whatever you were buried with. Apparently he’d been buried in his mariachi suit, and with nothing else, since he never received anything from the department, even months and years after his death.

A quiet sniffing noise brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked to find Pizzicato examining his photo. “¿Muy guapo, eh?” he asked, smiling against his dried tears. “This was me when I was alive. I didn’t have many photos… just this one, and a… family portrait.” That would’ve been nice to see again… He wished he’d had a photo of his wife or daughter with him when he left. It would’ve been good to have now.

Peep.

He blinked, staring at his own photo for a moment. “…Only two photos,” he murmured. He’d discussed it with his parents before—the idea that maybe the photos had been lost somehow. They hadn’t been certain, but it would make sense, wouldn’t it? After all, why else wouldn’t they put up his photo if they knew he was gone? Though there should have been a tribute of some sort, at least, but… but maybe that didn’t count, since he did have a photo. That made sense, right?

Sitting upright, he brought the photo closer to his face while Pizzicato fluttered in his other hand. “What if… what if I could bring this photo over?” Héctor wondered aloud, rubbing his thumb over the worn paper. “Just crossing over once would be hard with those guards, but… but if I could bring my photo to them, and they could set it on the ofrenda, then I wouldn’t have to worry about it again!” Turning to the alebrije, he grinned down at her. “What do you think? Think it could work?”

Folding up her ear-wings, the bat gave a whine.

“I know, I know it’ll be hard, but… I have to do it. Just once! Then I don’t have to do it again, right?” Already he was standing up, and Pizzicato jumped out of his hand, flying up around his head again. With his other hand now free, Héctor rubbed the tear stains off of his face, feeling more confident. “We’ll just sneak past the guards and cross the bridge ourselves.”

Pizzicato didn’t look terribly confident about this, turning away from him and looking out toward the street, in the direction of one of the plazas.

“No, we’re not doing that right now.” Shaking his head, Héctor turned back toward the gates. “The bridge is only here one night a year. If we don’t do this now, we’ll have to wait another year, and—” He ran a hand through his hair.

Looking him up and down, the alebrije dipped in the air for a moment. (Was Héctor imagining things, or did she have a resigned look on her face?) But then she picked herself back up, flying toward the gates to Santa Cecilia with slow, even flaps.

With a lighter heart, Héctor followed the alebrije, feeling more encouraged than he’d felt in… well, over a year. This had to work—they had all night to make it work. Just get past the guards, run across the bridge, put up his photo, and return.

They could do this.

“You cannot do this.”

“No, no, you don’t understand!” Héctor struggled in the grasps of the security guards that dragged him away, Pizzicato frantically fluttering after him, occasionally diving at the guards. As it turned out, sneaking past the security was easier said than done. “I-I just needed to do it once! J-just one time!”

“This is for your own good, señor,” one guard said, waving a hand at Pizzicato when she got too close. “Trust us.”

“No, please…! Can’t you just—?!”

“Unless you want to fall straight through those flower petals and into the sea, no.���

“But I’m not forgotten! I’m remembered—they still—” Anger choked his voice as he struggled against the guards, but they only tightened their grip on him.

He was being dragged away from the gates, past the stares of onlookers, and to the Department of Family Reunions. Héctor remembered the place from when he’d first arrived here, and when he and his parents had come to ask why they couldn’t cross. Neither memories had been happy ones, and he couldn’t imagine this time would be any more joyful. Rather than being taken to one of the many desks in the open office, he was taken to a smaller room where a tired woman in a blue uniform sat. She looked up when they entered, straightening in her seat.

“This young man tried to sneak past security after harassing one of the attendants,” one of the guards explained, leading Héctor to a chair. They stood to either side of him, ready to act if he tried to bolt, and gestured for him to sit.

Héctor did not sit, at least, not until Pizzicato alighted on his shoulder and tugged on his collar. Sighing, he faced the woman—a “corrections officer,” a term he would soon be very, very familiar with—and folded his hands together pleadingly. “Por favor, señora, I don’t mean any trouble,” he said, dipping his head. “I just… I just need to see my family.”

The woman looked him up and down. “Your name, señor?”

“Héctor Rivera.”

Immediately standing, the corrections officer turned to a file cabinet behind her, leafing through the files in a drawer before pulling a thin one out. It only bore a few small notes in it, though one of the guards handed her another slip of paper. She set it next to the other papers and skimmed over them. “Hm. Nothing terrible, but this is not a good trend, Señor Rivera.”

Héctor blinked. “Ah… ¿que?”

“While you haven’t committed any offenses prior to this, you’ve been exhibiting increasingly desperate behavior every Dia de Muertos. We take note of this, señor, because it may lead to an individual doing something very foolish.”

“But I haven’t done anything!” Héctor cried, only to flinch at a short growl from Pizzicato. “Okay, okay, I did try to sneak by the guards, but… but only once! I only need to get through j-just once, then I can put my photo up.” He pulled the photo out of his pouch, holding it up to the officer.

Rather than giving him an understanding or even sympathetic look, she ran her hand down her face. “Señor Rivera, that is not how it works. The dead cannot interact with the living in any way, and cannot pass items to them.”

Oh. Sheepishly folding the photo, he returned it to his pocket. “Is… is it so wrong that I want to see my family?”

“Probably not, but it doesn’t change the fact that you will be physically unable to cross the bridge if you have no photo or tribute on the other side.” She shook her head, glancing over the papers one more time before shutting the folder. She then snatched a form, which she began to write on. “This is your first offense, so I’ll let you off with a warning for now.”

Héctor stared at the paper that was handed to him without reading it, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

“I recommend you not try this again. You are not the first, and those who have gone before you were a lot less lucky.”

“Less lucky…?”

“The guards did not reach them on time.” Sighing, the corrections officer looked him in the eyes, this time truly looking sympathetic. “For your own sake, señor, I recommend you try to enjoy the holiday on this side of the bridge, and not attempt a stunt like that again.”

Héctor nodded slowly, his gaze falling back down to the paper in his hand.

“You’re free to go, Señor Rivera. Feliz Dia de Muertos.”

“Gracias.”

Pizzicato hopped off Héctor’s shoulder as he slowly made his way out of the building. She chirped at him once or twice, but he ignored her as he walked down the street, away from the building, his mind working slowly over everything he’d heard at the corrections office. “Not the first,” he muttered quietly, gazing down at the warning notice he’d received.

Something clicked. He stopped suddenly, turning to look up at Pizzicato, and held the paper up toward her. “See this, Pizzicato?” he said, allowing her to sniff at the sheet. “Take a good look at it, amiga, because this is the last time you’ll see one of these!” With that, he crumpled up the paper, tossed it roughly to the ground, and stomped on it.

Pizzicato gave a surprised peep, fluttering backward for a moment before zipping in front of him again, ear-wings folded.

“They’re wrong about all of this,” he said, feeling his heart burn with a determination and energy he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “Others haven’t made it across without a photo, no, but I will. We will.” Holding out his hand, he waited for the bat to alight on it before holding her close. “We won’t be like the others, Pizzicato. We won’t get caught, or give up, or fail. My family’s out there waiting, and I’m not going to keep them long. I don’t care what the dumb officers said—we will cross that bridge.”

Pizzicato stared at him for a while, ears still folded back, her bright eyes conveying something that seemed a mix between concerned and conflicted. But finally she spread her wings, flapping them without flying, and gave a loud peep.

That was all the confirmation Héctor needed. “Glad to have someone on my side,” he said, stroking his free hand over her shell.

“You’re a good friend, Pizzicato.”

[wilhelmjfink]

The Great Divide - Chapter 7

@crossbowking @jodiereedus22 @apossiblegentleman@mtngirlforever@sourwolf-sterek32 @winchester-angel @qrangr@cole-winchester @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @twdeadfanfic@crazyaboutnorman@deliciousassafrasssandwich @bunnymother93@96ssi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @ima-mther-fckn-starboy@thatsoragan @lonewolf471

A/N: new cover photo hehe :-)

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

It was a painfully long night for Riley as she watched the single ray of faded sunlight rise into her cell from the open doors down the hall. It was hardly enough to light up a room, but her eyes had already adjusted to the darkness she’d been trapped in, so it made no difference to her anyway.

‘The Divide’ she’d heard it referred to as. 

The night was full of crying from cells adjacent to hers and screaming from somewhere outside of the concrete walls. At one point, she’d given up trying to block out the noise by clutching her hands over her ears to no prevail and resorted to humming loudly to herself in hopes to block out the sounds. It hardly worked and left her throat more raw than it had already been from the agonized screams from being branded like cattle.

She couldn’t see the scar, but she could reach her left arm around to feel it, level with her ribs on the flesh of her mid back. It felt like an ‘X’ and though she wasn’t sure what that indicated, she knew it couldn’t be anything good. It hurt and the mere thought of it churned her guts and she was sure it could’ve easily made her sick if she had anything in her stomach to throw up.

Sleep came to her in minuscule amounts, riddled with nightmares of course, and she’d given up on getting any rest long ago which left her tired and achy and the stale pieces of bread they’d finally given her did little to satiate her hunger.

She had a lot of time to think — a dangerous thing for her.

A lot of time to wonder what she’d done to deserve this treatment. She’d only been trying to help.

A lot of time to sit quietly and fight back tears when she thought about her friends and family back home and especially Daryl, her hopes dwindling from thoughts of being rescued and brought home to just simply wishing they were all safe and sound, with or without her.

Her eyes had dried out and couldn’t produce any more tears; not so long as she was dehydrated, at least. The skin around them was red and chapped from her constant rubbing, trying to stifle them as they’d never seemed to want to stop. She’d cried herself out.

And after she’d done that, she’d begun to get angry.

The morning brought one of the Slavemasters — she’d overheard one of them referring to their position as such, and she acknowledged that would leave her a slave — stomping into the small building and opening cells, tearing each individual out one by one and dragging them outside. It was a new day, and Riley had no idea what it held for her. And she was terrified.

But she refused to show it. She refused to let them break her. She would try as hard as she could, for as long as she fucking could, until she simply could take no more.

So when she was dragged from her cell she bit down on her lip to stop the cries of pain she’d felt every time she moved any part of her body, the fresh burn on her back seeming to tear further along her skin and searing every nerve in her body along with it.

The early dawn brought an eerie scarlet glow to the area, the constant dirty cloud of red that always lingered around the town. The man that had her, she assumed, was the same that she’d seen yesterday on account of the mask he’d dawned. She wondered what he’d planned to do with her for the day.

The city was an enormous maze of building remains and rigged up structures like boarded walls and small camps under makeshift canopies, burn barrels everywhere contributing to the smog and next to them usually some sort of forge or sawmill or furnace. It was always loud. But she could usually catch some chatter if she listened hard enough to those as she was pulled by them. 

They brought her to a big enclosed courtyard with the only exit being the alley they came through. However, it was closed in by rooms that she figured used to be some sort of motel — some old rusted numbers still hung up on the metal doors, big windows to their sides boarded up or shattered. And she watched as the doors would open and workers would step in and out and she breathed a sigh of relief because maybe they wouldn’t make her live in a cage like an animal. That night had been one of the longest in her entire life and more of them were sure to drive her insane very quickly.

Room thirteen had the three missing but the shadow of where it hung still remained on the door that was pushed open, startling all of the workers in that room as Riley was thrown in carelessly and the door slammed behind her. She stumbled forward onto her hands and knees and automatically retracted away when hands reached out to her, away from those monsters that lurked everywhere she looked, but they weren’t the same gloved hands. In fact, they were much smaller, much softer hands, and she looked up at who they belong to and was shocked to see an older woman staring back at her.

“Oh, honey,” the woman said, shaking her head in pity, “you must be new here, huh?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Riley sat topless on the stiff cot, wincing as Lidia used a small packet of burn cream and duct taped pieces of paper towels as bandages to cover the fresh wound on her back.

“Almost done.” The older lady said from over her shoulder.

Turns out the community of workers were tight-knit — at least those who had been here for some time. The Slavemasters seemed to have a tiny bit of compassion as it had turned out, giving the older of the workers the easier jobs that weren’t as strenuous as others. Like Lidia, who was in charge of food, for both masters and workers. The job itself, of course, was much rougher than a chef’s job would be anywhere else in the world before it turned — they had a reputation to keep up, naturally — but Lidia had somehow managed to remain a shining light in the darkness throughout her time here.

It baffled Riley, how some people could still find a reason to be genuinely happy even after the shit hand the world had dealt them.

“Did they take you, too?”

Riley sat up straighter, having forgotten Lidia was even there. “Huh?”

“I know you didn’t come here on your own,” she said matter-of-factly and Riley sighed, slouching back over so she could just remain small and unnoticeable. “So they took you away from somewhere, no?”

Riley thought hard about a response before she could find an answer she was comfortable with. As warm and gentle as Lidia seemed, Riley had a lot of time to contemplate her decisions to trust people so quickly as she sat curled up in the dark cell.

“Yeah,” she finally rasped, her shoulders slouching with a defeated sigh. “Yeah, they did.”

“Mm,” Lidia replied with a small nod as if she knew that was the answer regardless of how Riley responded. “Family? Friends?”

The conversation was so bitter, but yet, so natural — and Riley despised that.

No more small talk about the weather or your favorite sports teams latest game  your favorite musician releasing a new album. None of that even remotely mattered anymore.

So she snorted in disgust, racking her brain for an appropriate answer that actually conveyed how she was feeling. She was so mad. She was mad and scared and sad and she didn’t want to think about Daryl again. She didn’t want that infamous pang of metaphysical pain that hurt her heart every time she thought of his voice or his eyes or the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms, safe and sound...

“I had a husband before this. His name was Martin — well, we called him Marty.” Lidia must’ve gotten impatient waiting for Riley to respond as she tripped the end of the duct tape and fastened it to her back securely. “He made it through this whole mess with me, kept us both safe and alive. We’d been married for 47 years, and that was — oh, jeez, how long has it been now?”

“What happened to him?”

Lidia shook out an old tank top, whipping some dust off to clean it the best she could, doing the same with a pair of matching black shorts that hung off of her hips just slightly too big for her small frame that only seemed to be shrinking by the minute.

“I’m not sure. I was waiting for him to return from hunting one morning when those... monsters took me.” Her voice didn’t fluctuate, she hardly seemed emotional at all. Maybe it had been a long time and she’d learned to deal with it by then. Or maybe they really can break you here and Lidia was on the verge of snapping. Riley admired her inability to let rage take over her like she’d done many times just that day. “You have to earn your shoes,” Lidia added bluntly.

“How can you still be so happy?” Riley didn’t mean for the words to come out as sharp and venomous as they did, but she couldn’t help it. Here she was, listening to this poor old woman reminisce about her husband who she hadn’t seen in ages after she was ripped away from him and forced into a life of slavery, and she still found time to help others and to extend her kindness and warmth to them. It didn’t make sense.

“Honey, Marty loved me for a reason.” She explained. “And if I change my ways, then I would be letting him down... and the last thing that man would ever want me to do is give up. Do you understand?”

Her words felt like a punch in the stomach, like she was directing them toward Riley and her spiteful attitude toward life, even though she knew she wasn’t. How was it possible to go through all of those hardships and not feel as though the world owed you something?

“Thank you,” Riley stood up from the cot she’d been sitting on and gestured behind her, “for... all this.”

“Tell me about him.”

She watched as Lidia turned away to tidy up the rotted desk behind her, collecting the new medical supplies she had and shuffling them away into a box far in the corner. Daryl. Could she even manage to say his name? Again, the conversation was so sourly casual to Riley, but there was something strong about this woman that Riley was drawn to; something that made her extremely wary, unable to forget the events that led her here in the first place.

But ultimately, she decided there was no harm in Lidia’s request, and maybe taking about him would help her feel a little bit better.

She sighed and slumped back down onto the mattress, trying to bury the sadness that overcame her. Lidia sat in a rickety wooden chair across from her. “His name’s Daryl.”

“Tell me about this Daryl.”

Where do I even start? “Daryl is the most...” her heart was swelling with admiration already and butterflies fluttered in her stomach like she was swooning to a friend about a crush after a first date. It was bittersweet — that even after all this time, he could still make her heart race and hands clam up. But yet, she found it hard to describe him accurately with just words. “He is the most selfless, misunderstood, and... broken human being that I’ve ever met.”

Lidia rested her head in her hand thoughtfully, become increasingly enthralled with Riley’s story word by word. “That is quite the combination.”

“Yeah,” the corner of her mouth absentmindedly quirked up into a small smile, just longingly daydreaming about him now; maybe if she described him with enough detail, enough to make him so vivid and tangible, he would just appear in front of her and take her back home. “He’s quite the anomaly.”

“Why do you say that?”

Why did she say that? That word seemed appropriate and rolled right off of her tongue. “He spends so much time being angry and pretending like he doesn’t care about anybody or anything... but I’ve never met somebody like him before — someone so selfless who would do anything for anybody just because he wants nothing more than to... just belong.”

Lidia was listening intently.

“Well, it sounds like you’re very special to Daryl.”

Riley’s cheeks flushed and she couldn’t help but smile.

“He’s very special to me.” The giddiness was short lived, though, and she blinked away the familiar pain of tears building up in her eyes. Everything she’d been trying to avoid showed itself in the form of watery eyes and a breaking voice. “I miss him so much.”

“I think you’re special, too, Riley.” Lidia leaned forward and used a tattered rag to comfortingly wipe away her tears. “And I don’t think that this is the end of your story. You just need to have hope. You can’t give up on Daryl.”

what a sweet old lady......

i will update the master list & the ‘previous’ ‘next’ chapter things tomorrow cuz i’m exhausted goodnight enjoy~~~

@crossbowking @jodiereedus22 @apossiblegentleman@mtngirlforever @sourwolf-sterek32 @winchester-angel @qrangr@cole-winchester @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @twdeadfanfic @crazyaboutnorman @deliciousassafrasssandwich @bunnymother93 @96ssi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @ima-mther-fckn-starboy @thatsoragan @lonewolf471

title pic: background daryl i am the girl on the right lmao  

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Day One: Twice Blessed [Thanatos x Brynhild]

Here is my first ficlet/story for ockiss19! I meant to post this for Thursday night but it took me longer than expected to type this all out.

In this cute oneshot, we have @jessicamarianadraws‘s Inquisitor Thanatos with one of my Hawke OCs: Brynhild. Let’s just say they both are waiting impatiently for two new additions to their family to arrive. ;)

I hope you enjoy reading this, @jessicamarianadraws!

Despite living high in the mountains with a chilling draft that pervaded throughout most of Skyhold’s rooms and corridors, Brynhild’s chamber was so unbearably hot since this morning and the Champion of Kirkwall thought she was slowly being roasted alive. A fire had been stroked to life by one of the Inquisition’s volunteers first thing in the morning to keep her warm and all the windows were close to keep the cold air outside. She spent most of the day either walking around to stretch her legs (since sitting in certain angles proved uncomfortable) to hopefully provoke her labor to arrive sooner rather than later, or resting in the bed so she wouldn’t overexert herself. Thanatos was particularly keen on the latter option, for he worried too much activity or precarious incidents could prove harmful to him and the babies. After what betided to his first wife and child, Brynhild understood his underlying fear.

Carver and her mabari Conan were her only companions, for Thanatos was forced to leave her side when a vital, emergency meeting was called upon the council. “But send a messenger to me the moment your labor begins or if you need me for anything,” he had told her, glancing down to rub her swollen belly fondly. “I want to be there when our children are born. I have no wish to miss anything.”

Morning had slowly melted away into the afternoon like the snow on the ground and only then did Brynhild start to feel a repeated onset of contractions spasming across her torso, provoking her to pace around like a caged animal with hands on her pregnant stomach as she steadily counted the pause between each forceful motion insider her womb. Her mabari, Conan, cocked his head perplexingly as he watched her almost rhythmic movements, eyes wider than saucers as her faithful companion’s tongue lopped out of his jaw. Carver, on the hand, tore his focus away from the maps he was viewing to observe the change in her behavior. “Brynhild…?”

She held out one finger at him and he halted, eyes watching her intently as she continued to count and keep one hand on her belly. Finally, Brynhild turned to her brother, a nervous smile spreading across her light pink lips. “Carver, summon the healers. I think the babies are on their way.”

Thanatos would have done absolutely anything to get out of this meeting.

Josephine was assisting greatly in subduing the verbal infighting at a minimal while also assaying to distract him from the looming possibility Brynhild could give birth any day now. That made him more jittery and anxious than ever. He was suppose to be spending time with his lover and help her relax yet of course, there had to be an urgent squabble featuring uncovered religious artifacts that fell betwixt the border of Orlais and Ferelden. Leianna was more interested in the topic of the meeting than him and since she was the future Divine and all, that made sense. He was half tempted to excuse himself on a fake errance and let Leliana and Josephine to the rest of the petty bickering. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Thanatos was about to utter a biting remark when the door to the council room slammed open and in burst a ruddy, gasping messenger.

“Inquisitor!” he managed in-between breaths, grasping his knees as he hunched himself over to recover from his arduous sprint. “It’s Serah Hawke! She’s--”

Thanatos was already heading towards the exit, ignoring the baffled reactions  from the Orlesians and Fereldans alike while joy flickered across Leliana’s face and Josephine beamed broadly, for they both knew what the message was about. “Where is she? Is she in her room?”

The messenger bobbed his head vigorously. “Yes! And the healers are already with her. She wanted you to know she has already her labor has just begun.”

Thanatos barely acknowledged those remaining words as she he darted from the war room and swiftly maneuvered around everyone else to reach the nearest flight of stairs. He could only hope he would be there in time and when Brynhild needed him the most.  

The wet cloth being dabbed across her brow did little to cool her down, for she was glistening with perspiration everywhere and soaked her long shirt and the bedsheets underneath. Carver was doing his utmost best to help her through this herculean process and not once did he complain how hard she was squeezing his hand. All she needed was for Thanatos to be here, on her other side, and all would be well.

“Serah Hawke, you need to start pushing,” pleased one of the mages. “We don’t know how long it will take the Inquisitor to arrive and you can’t stall any longer.”

Brynhild was about to argue back when throes wracked her entire body, concentrating the most on her belly, and she gasped vociferously. Her breathing was now hitched and raspy until Carver awkwardly rubbed her back to calm her down. Unable to prevent the labor from commencing until Thanatos was present, she let out a string of curses and began pushing.

“That’s it!” cried out Mother Giselle. “We can see the head clearly now.”

Brynhild felt herself pushing again, eyes squeezed shut as she grunted, then screamed out in frustration, pain, and exhaustion, holding on to her brother’s hand more tautly than before. The door to her chambers shuddered open with a resounding bang, startling many of the healers. Brynhild did not need to open her eyes to know who came rushing in so brazenly and ignored Mother Giselle’s disapproving chiding. Her lover, her partner, was here at last.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he panted, kneeling down beside her bed as her teal eyes started adoringly at him. “I want as fast as I could. This castle has too many damn stairs!”

If she had the energy, she would have chortled. Instead, she smiled wearily. “It’s all right, Thanatos. You’re just in time.”

“Push!” interjected Mother Giselle.

“What else do you think I’ve been doing? Taking a shit?” retorted Brynhild caustically. Yet she continued to push and push until something slightly large and solid slipped between and then passed her legs, followed by incessant, raucous wailing.

“It’s a girl!” announced Mother Giselle, beaming with pride as she handed the squalling, ruddy infant over to a mage for the girl to be cleaned, examined, and swaddled. There was a patch of black fuzz on her head and inconceivable rapture flooded through both Brynhild and Thanatos as they watched the mage count their baby daughter’s fingers and toes.

“We have a girl,” whispered Thanatos in amazement, his voice so low that only she heard him.

“And she’ll have a sister or brother very soon,” Brynhild answered, grimacing as discomfort wracked her belly again and here hands and toes clenched instinctively. Immediately, Mother Giselle sat back in front of her and much to the Champion of Kirkwall’s irritation, the coaching resumed.

“Keep pushing once more, Serah Hawke! The second baby hasn’t made his or her appearance just yet.”

“That’s what Father claimed happened to Bethany when Mother giving birth to us,” commented Carver lightheartedly, trying to distract his older sister from the pain and discomfort because he sensed (and rightfully so) she was about snap at Mother Giselle again. “She didn’t want to leave the warmth of Mother’s womb supposedly.”

“Well, just like with our sister, this child has to come out soon because I’m going to carry him or her around for the rest of my life,” grumbled Brynhild, squinting her eyes shut as she gave another push or two with all her might. She prayed to the Maker her second baby was positioned properly and there would be no complications. She might have been slightly nervous about giving birth to not one but two infants yet Thanatos was even more concerned about all the possible outcomes for both during and after labor. After everything they have been through, losing her now would absolutely devastate him. His fear was quite understandable, for she too would be utterly lost and bereft if death claimed him too soon. His grip around her right hand was reassuring though, to say the least.

Minutes dragged by, despite all the tension permeating the air and how much energy she exerted to push over and over again that made the moment seem to last as long as an hour or more, the second child finally relented and was born twenty minutes after their sister.

“Congratulations, Inquisitor and Serah Hawke! You have a boy!” Mother Giselle displayed and equally chubby, big, and cerise faced infant with fuzzy raven hair who squawked indignantly about being ripped away from his warm, hospitable shelter.

“A girl and a boy,” murmured Thanatos, his eyes never leaving their son even as another mage took him from Mother Giselle to clean and change him. “I cannot thank you enough for what you have accomplished--no, what you have gifted to us both, Brynhild. Those twins are our treasures I cannot believe they are finally here.” He leaned in to kiss her hot, sweaty forehead, wishing he could do more if she wasn’t so exhausted or if they were alone and not surrounded by the present company. So for now, he settled for also kidding her beckoning mouth as she Brynhild’s teal eyes laughed lovingly and sang with delight at his tenderness.

“Believe it, Thanatos,” she said, smiling at his soft, thankful kisses. “We’re a family now.”

Their two children were soon brought to them once the sheets to her bed were changed and Brynhild was compelled to dressin a fresh long, overgrown undershirt prior to being coaxed back to bed to rest. Once the baby girl was tucked in Thanatos’s arms and their baby boy snugly secured in hers, only then did everyone file out to grant the couple some privacy. Even Carver managed to drag Conan out with the excuse to take him out for a walk.

“We still need to find them names,” she reminded him after the silenced stretched onward as they were completely engrossed and spellbound by the preciousness of their newborns. “Or else our companions will do it for us. I saw the list Varric made and I don’t know whether to laugh or burn said list.”

“Can’t be any worse than the ones Cassandra has suggested. They’re so… Andrastian.”

They chuckled un unison and Brynhild gently touched her son’s soft, pudgy fist. “We still time to decide later.”

Thanatos nodded, his gaze continually glued to their daughter. “That we do. In the end, all that matters is they are here and healthy.”

Brynhild couldn’t concur more.