#and a lifetime of being told to shut up and stop bothering everyone with stupid questions does not make this easier :')

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

They really need to invent a way to text without wanting to throw up right after

[starkstruck27]

Here's that ficlet that I have to rewrite because I fucking lost it and I'm crying about it as I write. I got the inspiration from this absolutely beautiful gif made by @fleethall and I'll link it here so that everyone can see it, because it's gorgeous. I hope the ficlet is half as good as it was the first time because I'm literally crying over it, but either way, enjoy. Also, TW for suicidal ideations.

It was too hot for it being early June in Indiana. Billy'd expect this kind of weather back in California, but here in Hawkins, where it was normal to reach the negatives in the winter, he didn't expect it to be like sitting on the Devil's back porch. Especially this fucking early in the morning.

It was just beginning to get light outside, the sun barely halfway exposed over the horizon, and Billy was in his bed in nothing but his boxers, because his dad had never bothered to put that rickety old window AC unit back in his room, he didn't know how to do it himself. So he had to settle for wearing as few clothes as possible, opening the windows, and turning on the rusty old fan he'd dug out of the garage to try and keep cool. It wasn't doing much, especially as the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds, but it was better than nothing. It's not like Billy was going to get back to sleep this morning anyway.

Truth be told, he hadn't gone to sleep at all last night, despite how tired he was from the day before. He just couldn't, he had too much on his mind. So he'd just laid there, smoking cigarette after cigarette, and just thinking. He was trying to ignore the throbbing in his side, and he'd done a pretty good job after about an hour or so, once the Advil had set in. Now it was getting harder and harder to do that as the painkiller wore off, but still, his brain was keeping him occupied enough not to think about it.

Not that he was exactly happy about that. He wished he could just clear his mind and not think about anything right now, but he couldn't. He couldn't get his stupid electric head meat to shut up and stop supplying him with thoughts of the boy with the hazel eyes that was apparently leaving for college or some job opportunity or whatever in just a few days. The boy who he thought had loved him, but apparently not enough to talk to him about all this until two days before he was supposed to leave him behind and move to god only knew where. Billy had honestly stopped listening after he'd heard the words "I'm leaving" coming from the other boy's mouth.

Billy lit another cigarette and slid off of his bed to sit on the floor, his legs splayed out and his arms hanging limp with his hands in his lap. He leaned his head back on the mattress and closed his eyes, wishing for about the 80 millionth time that they'd never even moved to this shitty little town in the first place. Then none of this would be happening.

And yeah, he knew it was his fault that they had. As much as he tried to blame it on Max, he knew that he'd been the one to officially fuck things up in the first place. If he wanted to get technical about it, he'd say it was a joint effort, because yeah, he'd made the initial mistake, but Max was the one who had thrown it back in his face when she was mad at him for something, and his dad had overheard her. Then, after the beating of a lifetime and a trip to the ER, his dad found them a house back in his hometown, and after his broken wrist healed, they were gone. Billy hadn't spoken to Max after that day, and he still didn't until the first day they'd gotten into town. Not even a single word passed between the two of them during the entire cross-country drive, and he felt completely justified for that.

Really, he should've known not to trust her, but he thought that because he was pretty sure she was like him, she would get it, that she would know why she needed to keep it under wraps. But she was just a child, he should've known that she wouldn't understand. She didn't understand why it was so important, that if she didn't keep the secret, not only would Billy's dad turn on him, but so would the rest of the world. He didn't know why he thought that would be enough to convince her.

See, here's how it happened. Billy'd had a few good friends back in San Diego, a group of guys that he spent every spare second he could with. There was Wayne, and Argyle, and Sid, and Tim. But then, there was Logan. He was a year younger than Billy in school, since his birthday was late in the summer, but that hadn't mattered to Billy. When they'd met, Billy had gravitated naturally towards the other boy, drawn in by his optimism and constant need to look on the bright side.

With his eyes closed like this, Billy could still picture his perfect face. He had tan skin and bleach-blonde hair, and his eyes were the color of wet sand. His nose was bent in three places from having been broken seven times in his life, and his smile was as bright as the moon reflecting off the ocean on a clear night. It made Billy's heart speed up, and to him, it was perfect, even though one of his canines was slightly crooked. It reminded Billy of a time before his mom had left, before his dad was drafted to fight in Vietnam and came back changed for the worse, before, when his house actually felt like a home. All Logan had to do was smile at Billy, and suddenly, he had hope that one day, everything would be alright again.

And then one day, they were all on the beach, and a storm rolled in. The waves soon became too rough to swim or surf, and the thunder and lightning meant that it wasn't safe to stay in the ocean anyway, so the six of them grabbed their boards and ran for shelter under the boardwalk to wait it out. But the storm was strong, and it showed no signs of letting up any time soon, so they quickly became bored. Wayne and Tim got hungry, so they left their boards stuck in the sand and pulled on their shirts and flip flops to head up into the diner built into the boardwalk, saying they'd be back once they got a bite. Sid knew that his mother would be getting worried if she didn't hear from him with such a storm raging on, so he went to go find a payphone to tell her that he'd be home as soon as the storm let up. Argyle went with him, the two of them planning to light up a joint once Sid finished his call. And that, of course, left just Billy and Logan.

"So what now?" Logan asked as he stuck his board in the sand so that he could lean against it when he sat down. Billy followed his example as he answered with, "I don't know. I guess once Sid and Argyle get back, we could all go join the other two in the diner until the storm passes."

"I don't have my shirt with me, though, they won't let me in," Logan said.

"Aw, sucks to be you then, I guess," Billy teased, nudging Logan's shoulder as he grinned. Logan couldn't help but laugh as he nudged Billy back, and it made Billy feel all tingly inside.

After that, they stopped talking for a little bit, content to just sit there in each other's company and watch the storm. It was beautiful, the way two of nature's strongest forces were coming together and fighting against each other at the same time, and it was all happening before their very eyes. Lightning struck over the ocean and lit up the lilac and gray atmosphere, making the ground shake as it was quickly followed by a ferocious growl of thunder. It wasn't until after this deafening noise that Logan spoke again.

"Whoa, check this out!" He said, digging in the sand beside him before pulling something out and brushing the excess sand off of it. Then he placed it in the palm of his hand and reached over to show Billy what he'd found, his smile too big and infectious for it not to rub off on the other boy.

"What about it? It's just a sand dollar," Billy said, smiling even though he was confused.

"Yeah, but this is the first time I've ever found one outside of a gift shop," Logan said, turning the shell over and over in his hands and examining it as if it were made of pure gold.

"I guess that does make it more special," Billy agreed, watching his friend for a moment, but forcing himself to look back at the storm, trying to convince himself that it was more beautiful than the other boy.

After that, they slipped back into comfortable silence, and it was a few more minutes before Logan broke it again, holding out the shell to Billy and simply saying, "Here."

"What?" Billy asked back, looking between his friend and the shell in his hand, confused.

"I want you to have it," Logan said, taking Billy's hand and making him take the shell.

"No," Billy said, trying to give it back, "You were the one who found it and got all excited over it. It's special to you, you should keep it."

"True, but I want you to have it." Logan folded Billy's fingers over the shell, holding them there to make sure he couldn't give it back.

"Why?" Billy asked, his eyebrows scrunching together like he was trying to figure out a complex math problem in his head.

"Because I have something as special as this already, so I don't need it," Logan shrugged, still holding Billy's hand.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Billy asked, his stomach getting all fluttery and nauseous, but in a good way.

"I've got you," Logan said, and Billy hoped he wasn't reading it wrong as the other boy leaned in closer. But he wasn't stopping, and his eyes were locked on Billy's, and his smile only grew bigger until a second later it disappeared as his eyes started slipping shut.

Now, Billy had never kissed anyone else before, at least not like this. But he wasn't an idiot, and he knew what it looked like from movies and shows and stuff, and he was pretty sure this was going to be it. His heart began to speed in his chest and his mind went blank, and before he could get it back on track and talk himself out of it, he allowed himself to toss caution to the wind and meet Logan halfway.

And in that second, Billy's entire mind was blown completely away. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket, like a big meal of all his favorite foods, like a long nap on a rainy afternoon, it was everything. Logan's lips were soft and tasted like salt from the ocean and like sunscreen and the mint chapstick he used and the vanilla ice cream cone he'd eaten earlier that day. It was slow and sweet, and even though Logan took control easily, he kept it that way. He took his time coaxing Billy's lips apart with his tongue, and only paused for a moment to turn his head to the side to get a better angle. Once he had it, he let his tongue delve inside Billy's mouth to explore, and let Billy take his time to do the same. Once he was confident enough, he did, and he used his tongue to feel around everything, from the roof of Logan's mouth to the softness of his tongue to the rigidness of that one crooked tooth. He couldn't do much with his hands at the moment, what with one holding the sand dollar and the other planted in the sand for balance, but Logan's were free, so he moved one to hold the one Billy was holding himself up with and the other to cradle Billy's face, making the other boy sigh softly. He was getting a little bit of sand on his cheeks, but Billy couldn't have cared less. This was the greatest thing that'd ever happened to him, and he was sure that it was the closest he'd ever get to heaven.

And then, all hell broke loose.

"Billy! C'mon, it's almost time to go ho-" Max called out for him as she wandered beneath the boardwalk, her rain jacket zipped up to her chin. She stopped short as soon as she saw her brother, lips locked with his best friend, and now as red as her hair as he whipped his head around to gape at her. "Uh, n-nevermind, I'll just go wait by the car."

Billy wanted to chase after her, but by the time he was able to scramble to his feet, she was gone. He'd completely forgotten about her as soon as he'd dropped her off at the boardwalk arcade, too caught up in his own friends and his own day out to worry about where she was. He'd only told her to come and get him when it was time to head home, since he didn't know what time it was without his watch on, and now, he was a complete and utter goner.

"Fuck!" He yelled as he raked a hand through his hair, trying desperately to figure a way out of this.

"Whoa, hey, Billy, calm down," Logan said, taking his hand from his hair before he yanked it out and gripping his shoulders to try and ground him. "Look, it's okay, you just have to talk to her on the way home. It'll be okay, I'm sure she won't tell anyone."

"But-" Billy tried to get a word in, but Logan cut him off.

"I don't regret it," he said, making sure to look Billy in the eyes. He knew how Billy got when he felt backed into a corner, and he didn't want him to come out fighting like an alley cat. "I meant it when I told you you were special to me, and I won't ever regret proving it to you. I know you're worried that Max will tell somebody what she saw, but I know her, and I know you, and I know that if you just talk to her, she'll keep it a secret. Maybe one day she won't have to, maybe one day we won't be scared to tell the guys or anybody else in the world, but until then, it'll be okay, because I'll never regret you."

And with that, Logan gave Billy one more peck on the lips, helped him breathe right, and then helped him get his board out of the sand so he could go. The rain was letting up a little by now, and as Billy approached his car, he saw Max standing beside it, waiting. He unlocked it and she climbed inside, and he stalled for a minute more as he tied his board to the roof, trying to come up with something to say to her. Finally, he couldn't stall any longer, and he sat down in the driver's seat, turning to look at her before he even put the keys in the ignition.

"You can't tell anybody about what you saw, understand?" He said, going for authoritative, but it only sounded scared. He still had the sand dollar in his hand, and he gripped it just a little bit harder to give him some confidence.

"Who would I tell?" She scoffed, and he knew her default mode was bitchy, but he still couldn't believe the audacity she had when she said it.

"I'm serious, Maxine!" Billy raised his voice, grabbing her shoulder with a firm grip, though he was careful not to hurt her. "If you tell somebody and it gets out, Logan and I are both pretty much dead. This doesn't go any further than the three of us or I will smother you in your sleep and dump your body in the ocean to be eaten by sharks, you got that?"

This time, Max didn't speak, she just nodded as Billy stared at her with angry, desperate eyes. Later on, as Billy drove them home, she finally voiced it, saying that she promised she wouldn't tell.

It wasn't even a full month later when she broke that promise.

Billy opened his eyes now, tears running down his cheeks, escaping along with a sigh as he remembered all this. The first boy, the first person, he'd ever truly loved more than himself, and exactly how he'd lost him. He remembered how after his dad had found out, he wasn't allowed out of the house until the move. How he hadn't spoken to Max for months, and was essentially mute until they arrived in Hawkins. How on the day they were supposed to leave, he didn't even tell her where they were going when he took a little detour on the way and left something in Logan's mailbox before heading for the highway.

It was the sand dollar from that day. He'd stuck it in a brown paper bag and wrote the other boy's name on it, also leaving a short note inside.

My dad's making us move. He won't tell me the new address, so I can't leave it for you. Anyway, since I'm not gonna be around anymore, I figured you'd need something special to replace me... Jesus, I don't know. That's corny as shit, but you get the gist. I'm sorry. -B

P.S. I'll never regret you, either.

Max had tried to apologize after all this had happened, but Billy never forgave her. He didn't want to. If she'd tried to say anything as they drove, he would just turn the music up louder to drown her out and pretend he didn't hear her. After a while, they kind of had to make up, but he still never fully let it go. He loved Logan, and all it took was one sentence shouted in the heat of the moment for Billy to lose him. He swore that he'd never get over it and let Max off the hook since she was the one who had caused it. And he swore that he'd never fall in love again as long as he lived.

But of course, he couldn't fucking help it. He was still hurting, pining for a boy clear across the country, when he met Steve, and it pissed him the fuck off that his traitorous heart began to flutter the second he did. He didn't want to feel like that about anyone ever again, and especially not so soon after he'd lost someone else. So he became mean. Downright vicious. He tried his best to prove his heart and his mind and his soul wrong by picking on Steve to the point of physical altercations, because he didn't want it to be true. He didn't want to face up to the fact that he was already falling for somebody again, when he wasn't even fully over the person before.

And then came the night at the Byers's house, when his dad had told him to get Max and bring her home, and Steve lied to him about knowing where she was. He knew he'd been nothing but a dick to Steve up until that point and that Steve probably assumed the anger issues would extend to Max so he was just trying to protect her, but still, something about the fact that he seemed so casual about lying made the knife in Billy's guts twist. So he struck first, pushing Steve over and going into the house to get Max, ready to drag her out by the hair if he had to. He just didn't want to be around anybody, he knew he would lash out, and he didn't want to actually hurt anyone. He wanted to get Max home and then go out to the woods or something and take his aggression out on something that couldn't hit him back, something that he wouldn't draw blood from if he hit it.

But then Steve came in and hit him first, and something had broken inside him, like a dam collapsing from the force of the river. He didn't hold back after that. He fought dirty, screaming and letting out everything he'd kept bottled up for months, including the tears. He cried as he beat Harrington's stupid face in, until the other boy was barely conscious on the floor. He didn't care about Max or his dad or anything else at that point, and once all the fight had left him, he got up and went out to his car, not looking back even once as he drove away, continuing to cry.

He didn't know where else to go, so he eventually wound up in the school's parking lot, near the outdoor basketball courts. He sat on the hood of his car when he got there, staring at the moon and still crying until the tears just stopped flowing. His knuckles hurt and his head even more so, but he didn't move, not even when another car pulled up next to him. He didn't care anymore. The only thing he had left to lose was his life, and he wasn't even sure why he was still holding onto that anymore, so what did it matter if he lost that too?

It was Harrington that got out of the car and walked up to Billy, sitting down next to him on the hood of his car.

"What do you want?" Billy asked him after a few minutes, still refusing to look at him.

"Just to see how you're doing," Steve said, shrugging casually as if this were just a regular conversation on a Tuesday morning.

"Peachy, thanks," Billy replied, trying to get up, but Steve grabbed his wrist, refusing to let him.

"No you're not. The kids told me you were crying as you beat me to a bloody pulp, and Max told me it probably had something to do with something that happened back in California. And since I'm the guy who you almost gave a second concussion to, I think that I at least deserve to know why," he said, his face serious and upset, but not angry.

"Well, you were mistaken. I don't owe you shit, Harrington," Billy said, yanking his hand away as if he'd been burned.

"True, but you do owe me an explanation." Steve said, crossing his arms, but refusing to move from the hood of the car. "C'mon, man, you did nothing but pull my pigtails for the past few weeks and then you rearranged my face tonight, and I want to know why."

Billy had just stared at him for a minute, not sure of what to do. He knew he couldn't tell Harrington anything, not unless he wanted to either move again or wind up six feet under, but then again, he was just so tired. He was tired of being afraid of himself, tired of running away from his past and away from his future, tired of fighting so hard. It's not like he had much to live for anyway, not like he could just get up and go back to California, back to Logan, back to the guys, back to being happy. He was trapped in a prison of his own fuck ups, and his father was the warden. He knew he couldn't fight him, and he knew he couldn't escape. So why keep trying? Why not just give up the fight and let everybody else win? It sure would be a hell of a lot easier than whatever this shit was.

"You wanna know my life story, Harrington? Wanna know all my dirty little secrets? Fine." Billy finally relented, sliding off the hood of the car and opening the door on the passenger's side. "Get in."

Steve obeyed the order, a slight confused crease to his brows, but he didn't say anything. He just climbed in and buckled his seatbelt, waiting as Billy did the same. He rolled down the windows, even though the night was already cold enough, and then he drove them away, sticking to the back roads as they rode through the darkness.

"Where are we going?" Steve had asked.

"Nowhere," Billy replied, too done with everything to even make a stupid joke, let alone lie. "Driving helps me think, so."

Steve nodded after that, and everything was quiet again. There was no tape in the player right now, and Billy had turned off the radio, so it was only the sound of the engine that accompanied them as they drove. Billy didn't know where to start, didn't know if he should tell about everything, but he'd promised all his dirty secrets, and he was nothing if not a man of his word. So he didn't worry about it, and just started at the beginning.

"My dad had loved me, once." He said, stopping at a red light. He waited until it flashed green to continue. "When I was a baby, I mean. He loved me, and so did my mom. They were happy, and so was I."

"So what changed?" Steve asked, his voice small, as if he were afraid to ask. Maybe he was.

"My dad got drafted. Went to 'Nam and kicked Charlie's ass. Only problem was, he got kicked back. When he came home after four years, he was different. Loud, and mean, and it drove mom away. She didn't bother to take me with her." Billy said, shrugging.

"That doesn't mean he doesn't love you," Steve said, but again it was tentative, like maybe he didn't want to assume but was going to anyway. "I mean, lots of military guys go away to fight and come back a little bit meaner, that doesn't mean they don't still love their wives and kids."

"You're not listening to me, Harrington." Billy bit out, a little harsher than he needed to maybe, but he didn't care. "I could handle it if he was just mean. But when he tells me everyday that I'm a mistake and a waste of oxygen and that he should've made my mom abort me when he had the chance, and he's beating me up while he does it, I think I can take the hints better than you can."

That stunned Steve into silence, and Billy, too. He was still having trouble figuring out why he had even started talking to Steve in the first place rather than telling him to just fuck off, but even if he did figure it out, there was no going back now. And if he really thought about it, Billy did know, he was just too stubborn to admit it. He wanted to be able to talk to someone, anyone, about what was going on. Maybe they wouldn't be able to make it stop, but at least they would know, and he could talk to them about it when things started getting bad again. He just hoped that he'd picked the right person to trust.

"I'm sorry that that happens to you," Steve finally said after a while, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead instead of looking at Billy.

"I don't give a shit, Harrington," Billy shook his head, his own eyes feeling a little misty as he swallowed to try and keep it back, "I'm not telling you this because I want your pity."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Because you asked," Billy said, his voice flat, "And you're the first person that ever bothered to."

That seemed to stun Steve again for a second, but he nodded afterwards, seeming to understand it a lot quicker than he did the last thing. But to be fair, that statement was a lot less complicated than the ones previous.

"Is that why you got so mad earlier? Because of your dad?" He asked, looking at his lap now.

"It was a big part of it," Billy said, biting his lip at another red light before he kept going. "The other part was just you."

"What did I do?" Steve asked, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Well, part of it was because you lied to me like I said. I don't know what you were doing with Max and those kids in that house and right now I couldn't give less of a shit, but you gotta admit that it was kinda creepy. I'm supposed to bring her home safe or else I'm in trouble, and finding her alone in a house in the woods with three teenage boys and an adult man is pretty fuckin' weird. Not that Max really deserves me protecting her after all the shit she's done to me, but like I said, it wasn't her I had to worry about."

"So that was part of it, and obviously when I punched you was when you snapped, but did I do anything else?" Steve asked, and it surprised Billy a little bit. He actually sounded regretful.

"Kind of, but you couldn't help it," Billy said, finally making a U-turn and heading back towards town. He was about to pour his heart out to Steve and he didn't need him in his car any longer than he had to be if the other boy got upset.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked again, his big hazel eyes boring into the side of Billy's head as he tried to stay focused on the road. But it was getting difficult, so even though he wanted to keep driving, he pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. He still didn't turn to look at Steve, but he didn't need to. Steve could still see how nervous he was by the tremor in his hands on the steering wheel and gear shift.

"Look, I'm gonna tell you," he started, "But if you're going to kill me for it, please just wait until I've said everything I want to say. I don't wanna die with a guilty conscience, y'know?"

Steve was confused. Confused and concerned. But still, he nodded. Billy sighed and leaned his head back, staring at the roof of the car, his expression mostly blank as he started to speak again.

"Like I said, it wasn't exactly something that you could help," he said, blinking slowly, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to reopen his eyes. "It was just kind of you in general that set me off. You and your preppy clothes and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes. I've had a crush on you from the first moment I saw you that day in the parking lot, and it pissed me off, because the whole reason we had to move to this shit stain of a town was because I felt the same way about another boy that I felt about you. Max saw us one day and swore she'd never tell anyone about it, but then a few weeks later we were fighting about something or other and she said "at least I don't have to hide under the boardwalk if I want to kiss a boy". My dad overheard and he beat me so bad, I thought I was gonna die. I honestly kind of wish I would've. He broke my wrist and locked me in my room for the three months that it took to heal and by the time it did, he already had the boxes packed. We moved out here and I didn't even get to say goodbye to Logan. All I could do was leave him a shitty note in his mailbox that I don't even know if he read. And I made a promise to myself that I would never fall in love with anyone again as long as I lived, because it would only end in broken hearts and sadness and a painful, painful death. But not even a full day later I drove up to my new school and I saw you and that promise went right out the fucking window."

Billy paused after sighing out the last word, wishing he hadn't smoked his last cigarette on the drive to the house in the woods. He wished he could say that he felt like shit, but really, right now, he didn't even feel at all. He had completely given up, on everything.

"Anyway, that's why I was such a bitch to you," he finally ended with, "I couldn't stand you because I could already feel myself falling for you, and I didn't want to after everything that happened, especially when I'm not even over Logan yet. But he's a thousand miles away and you're... well, it's not like you'd want to date a train wreck with an ex they're still in love with and more daddy issues than there is sand on a beach, especially not if it's me, so yeah. If you wanna kill me or something now, feel free, I don't care anymore. To tell you the truth, I'd probably thank you, since I don't have the fucking balls to do it myself."

"Maybe not," Steve said after a few seconds of silence, his tone oddly serious and not freaked out or angry, "But you've got the courage to keep living even after all you've been through, and that takes a hell of a lot more balls than just giving up and dying."

Billy didn't have an answer to that. He wasn't even sure he had the strength to nod and acknowledge that words had even been passed. So he just closed his eyes in response, barely even registering the tears that rolled out as he did.

"And for what it's worth," Steve continued, his voice still firm, "I'm sorry about that boy, Logan. Neither of you deserved what happened to you."

"It doesn't matter if we deserved it or not," Billy said finally, opening his eyes and sitting up a little, "We both knew the risks we were taking. We should've known it couldn't've lasted."

"That doesn't make it right," Steve said, and Billy scoffed at that, shaking his head with a sour, condescending smirk on his face.

"Yeah, well," he said, "It still doesn't matter. Right, wrong, who gives a shit? That's just how it is. He's probably forgotten all about me by now anyway."

"If he loved you as much as you loved him, I don't think he would. Even if he didn't, you're still pretty hard to forget." Steve paused, his voice growing more timid as he finished with, "God knows I haven't been able to."

"Well of course you haven't, I've made your life hell ever since I moved here," Billy said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"That's not what I meant," Steve said, his hand twitching as if he were debating whether to grab Billy's, but ultimately, he didn't. "I meant that even before you started picking on me, I thought about you all the time. At first I thought that it was because you were so confident and impressing all the girls and kind of taking my place at the top, but that wasn't it. I'm not gonna kiss you right now, because I don't think that would fix anything like it does in the movies. Hell, it'd probably only make things worse. But you should know that you aren't the only one with a crush, and even if nothing comes from me telling you this, I just want you to know that we don't have to fight anymore, and I'm here, even if you just need someone to talk to."

Billy finally looked at him now that he was done talking, not sure whether to trust the other boy yet. He wanted to more than anything, but it was all too easy. Nothing that came this easily could be trusted. He'd had to learn that lesson a long time ago. Steve looked sincere, and he sounded like he meant it, too. But still, Billy was wary, and Steve must've been able to see that, because he said, "You don't have to believe me. But if I could prove to you that I mean it, would you at least keep an open mind?"

And Billy had nodded. Like a complete fucking idiot.

Now, it was months later, and Steve had proven himself. He listened when Billy needed him to, and would talk to fill the silences that Billy couldn't stand. He would surprise Billy with little gifts just because he felt like it, just to be able to see him smile, and he would take him on dates to the diner under the guise of just two friends hanging out, but they knew the truth. He would get angry on Billy's behalf whenever he had a bruise or cut on his face or came to him on the brink of tears, but would put the anger aside to take care of him when he needed it.

When he kissed Billy for the first time a few weeks later, he made sure he asked first, because he didn't want to overstep any boundaries and scare him. He made sure that Billy was okay once it was over, and he made sure to let him lead so that he knew for sure everything that happened was what Billy wanted. He did the same things the first time they had sex together, too, to make sure that Billy was okay with everything that they did. It had been his first time with anybody, let alone with a boy, but Steve didn't mock him for it, just made sure to take things slow and talk to him to make sure it was good. He gave Billy all the care and adoration that he needed so desperately, and he didn't ask for anything in return, because he just loved Billy that much.

At least, he thought he did.

Billy screwed his eyes shut again as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, tossing away the burned out butt of his cigarette and burying his face in his hands as he took in a shaky breath. He could feel his lip wobbling like he was a little kid again, and he choked on a sob as the tears started falling faster and faster. He hated when he cried like this, but sometimes, he just couldn't help it. It just wasn't fair. It seemed like every time he started to hope again, every time he began to feel happy, it just got torn away for no reason.

Maybe it was just him. He was the one who kept thinking he could have good things and jumping into them with both feet instead of remembering how bad things always turned out the last time. It was like his entire existence was a curse, and he just didn't know how to break it.

So he let himself cry like this, every once in a while. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn't. Today it actually helped so much that he didn't even realize there was somebody at his window until they'd already crawled inside through it and dropped down to sit next to him. When he finally did notice, it was everything he could do not to cry harder and kick him out.

"What are you doing here?" He croaked out when he saw Steve sitting next to him.

"I wanted to see you," he said, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "I didn't like how we left things yesterday."

"You shouldn't be here," Billy mumbled, more to himself than to Steve, though.

"Yes I should. I need to know why you got so upset when I told you I was leaving," Steve said, leaning forward to try and catch Billy's eye. Billy wanted to look at him, he was adorable right now. Still wearing his cut off pajama bottoms that he wore in the summer and a loose t-shirt and with his hair all tousled and unruly, he was so cute. But Billy knew if he looked at him like that, he wouldn't be able to stay mad, and he didn't want to let it go that easily just to still end up hurt in the end.

"Because you're leaving. You're going to be somewhere else and I don't even know where that's gonna be. And you didn't even think to tell me about it until two days before it was set to happen. Tomorrow, you're going to leave and then that's it." Billy said, his eyes still stinging from the mixture of tears and exhaustion.

"I'm going to Pennsylvania for college. But that's not going to be it for us, I promise you. I fucking love you and I'm not gonna lose you, no matter what." Steve replied, and Billy couldn't help but scoff again.

"How are we gonna do that when we won't even be able to keep in contact? You can't call here or write me letters or else my dad'll know, and I won't know how to get in touch with you. So please, enlighten me, how is that going to work?"

"I want you to come with me."

Billy stopped short the second he heard the words, his eyes going wide as he struggled to voice what he wanted to say. He wasn't even sure he knew what he wanted to say. But he had to say something.

"Wh-what?" He finally managed to squeak out, shaking his head as he tried to wrap it around the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling.

"I want you to come with me." Steve repeated, "That's why I waited so long to tell you, because then we could leave just out of nowhere and no one would be able to follow us. I want to get out of here, but I want you with me. And you're 18 now, so you don't have to stay here if you don't want to. If you want to come with me, I wanted to give you time to get ready, but not enough time for you dad to notice until we're already long gone. I love you and I want you to come with me because I want to get both of us out of here, hopefully for good."

Billy couldn't say he was shocked, necessarily, but he still didn't know what to say. He wanted to cry, he wanted to fling himself at Steve and kiss him stupid, he wanted to get dressed and leave right now and never look back. But he didn't. Instead, he just stared at him, looking for any trace of a lie on his face. But there was none, only sincerity and hope and love. It was almost too much.

"I don't want to stay here," he finally whispered, unable to bring himself to say the actual words. He couldn't force them to come out of his mouth, but Steve heard them anyway. What Billy wanted, more than anything, was to go with him.

"Then we can pack your things later on today once your parents leave for work, and I'll be here at this time tomorrow to get it into the car. We'll leave and be in Harrisburg before they even know we're gone." Steve promised, reaching out and placing a hand on Billy's cheek, holding him. He smiled, a tiny thing that seemed too delicate for Billy having been the one to put it there. Billy leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing out a quiet, "Okay."

After that, it was quiet again, the two of them shifting closer and holding each other, wanting to be close even though the body heat had them sweating. Neither of them cared as they grabbed some pillows from Billy's bed and laid out on the floor, cuddling with their limbs tangled together in a complex pretzel twist. One of Steve's arms was under the pillow and supporting his head, and Billy laid his own on Steve's shoulder, pressing them together from head to toe. Billy was still exhausted, so he immediately started to drift off as Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead, using his other hand to card his fingers in Billy's hair and massage his scalp, helping to coax him into slumber.

"I really do love you, you know," he whispered, shifting so that a ray of sunshine wasn't hitting Billy directly in the face and hindering his rest.

"I really do love you, too," Billy mumbled back, snuggling even closer to his boyfriend for as long as he could.

They'd have to untangle themselves in a few minutes so that Steve could leave before Neil and Susan woke up, but they were going to take every spare minute that they could get. It made Billy smile in his sleep as he thought that, pretty soon, they wouldn't need to mind the minutes. Pretty soon, they'd have all the time in the world.

[markleesthighs]

Can you make a part 2 for “Forbidden Moonlight”? I’d like to see some gun fighting, some car chasing, some actual mafia jaemin action with the “I would die and I would kill for you!” kinda spirit? I mean the one who requested it has great theme ideas, it is definitely chef’s kiss and I don’t think it should be left off in just 1 part. We gotta know what the ambassador offered to jaemin.

-i'm on a break, so i finally got a chance to write it! I Sorry requests have been taking long, haven't gotten a chance to write in a while. I hope you all enjoy!

read part 1 here

You missed school for the rest of the day. You didn't even have a chance to explain your situation to Jaemin, feeling guilty. In your limo ride home your dad kept scolding and yelling to you about Jaemin. He went on and on about how stupid you were. To be fair, you had no idea Jaemin was associated with the mafia as well as your dad so you brushed off his comments. When you arrived home you didn't bother to talk to your parents as you stormed up to your room.

"There you are, m/n."

"JAE-"

Jaemin rushed to shut your mouth with his hand.

"How did you know where I was?"

"I have a tracker on your phone." "You psycho."

"But you love this psycho."

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought since you've had a pretty shitty day that you'd want to come with me to a drag racing competition."

"Jaemin, you know I'd love to but my parents-"

"God, have you never snuck out before? Just do the thing in the movies where you use pillows to make it seem like you're in bed sleeping."

"Fine."

You piled up your pillows and covered them with a blanket and added a wig to really sell it.

"Let's go."

Jaemin climbed down the lattice below your window that had vines growing on it. You rolled your eyes figuring that's how he got up here. You also saw the busted circuit breaker box, showing how Jaemin got past your tight security. Jaemin jumped over your gate and helped you up and over for your escape. He pulled you onto his motorcycle and you both rode off to the underground drag race arena.

When you arrived it was everything you imagined. Intimidating guys and girls left and right. The security stopped you (clearly since you didn't fit in with your preppy outfit) but Jaemin reassuring the guard saying you were with him. You were expecting Jaemin to be one of the top betters or backers behind a driver but Jaemin started to get changed into a racer uniform. Part of you was worried and Jaemin could tell.

"Don't worry baby, I've done this a dozen times."

You still pouted.

"And yes, I've won every time, and I'll win again for you."

He pecked your lips.

"You better."

He chuckled at your comment as he got into his car. You were standing among his mafia members will visibly worried.

"On your mark racers!"

You heard the loudest rumbling you've heard come out of a car, covering your ears.

"Get set!"

The smell of burnt rubber came towards your nose and the cars became even louder.

"Go!"

The cars sped off with a huge cloud of smoke blowing behind them causing you to cough.

"First time?"

A very tall handsome guy looked down at you that looked like he could tear you to pieces in a second. You nodded in response.

"You must be m/n. Jaemin's talked a lot about you, I'm Johnny one of his members in his...company."

"I know he's in the mafia business, you know?"

"Oh, well at least he told you the truth."

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of the cars approaching you heard all the screams and cheers as you saw Jaemin's car approaching. But you also saw the other one not too far behind. It was intense watching the cars quickly approach the finish line, your heart was beating rapidly with adrenaline. Jaemin was leading before the other car caught up and they kept going back and forth it was causing you to have anxiety. But at the last second, you saw Jaemin pull ahead and crossed the finish line. You and the other members screamed loud cheering and hooting. Jaemin got out of his car and you ran up and hugged him.

"I was so worried."

"Aw, my baby was scared? What did I tell you I'm a professional."

You saw people exchanging money and people cashing out after betting on Jaemin, you assumed everyone bets on Jaemin. Suddenly gunshots were fired and you heard cop sirens getting closer.

"Fuck, which one of you called the cops?!"

Jaemin grabbed your hand along with the other members following you to the back alley where their motorcycles were. A few gunshots were fired in your direction and Jaemin blocked you from the shots. You saw a bullet hit Jaemin.

"Fuck!" "Jaemin! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, m/n, if it came down to it, I would die for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Can you two lovebirds quit it for one second!?" Mark yelled.

You hopped onto Jaemin's motorcycle as he sped up getting ready to leave. Johnny and others were yelling at him to go ahead and that they'll hold the cops off. Jaemin thanked them and you two sped off into the streets and onto the highway back to his house. Luckily, you both arrived safely at the house with Jaemin's guards being attentive. You sat silently in his living room awaiting the other members who were slowly trickling into the mansion. You saw the maids rushing to give Jaemin a first aid kit before he brushed them off saying he could do it himself. Jaemin was struggling to reach the bullet on the back of his shoulder and he was cutely trying to reach to remove it. You giggled telling him you could remove it for him.

"Are you sure m/n?"

"Yeah, I'm studying to become a doctor so don't worry. "

Jaemin stared as you remove the bullet from his shoulder as he hissed you apologized kissing his cheek. He looked at you stare at his shoulder with such care as you delicately dabbed his wound with rubbing alcohol. As he thought about it he never had someone who cared for him this much, most of them wanted him for sex, money, or reputation. You'd always ask him if something hurt and warn him about you stitching up his wound for him. You wrapped his arm up and you looked up at him to make sure he was ok and Jaemin looked at you with pure love in his eyes. He smiled at you and softly kissed your lips.

"God I love you."

You laughed "I love you too, Jaemin."

He kissed you passionately, leading your kissing to become faster and deeper. As Jaemin was about to take off his shirt, one of his members interrupted the two of you.

Jaemin groaned screaming "What the fuck is it now?! Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"It's Mr. y/l/n."

Jaemin immediately froze, got off of you, and basically commanded that you stay where you were. But you weren't about to miss a showdown between Jaemin and your father, so you followed shortly after. You eavesdropped around the corner of the entrance where your dad and his associates stood along with Jaemin and his associates.

"I know you have him. I want my son back. I don't need someone like you to ruin his future."

"Funny, because last time I believe you offered me a lifetime get out of jail free cards, airway travels, and millions of cash whenever I asked."

"You know that wasn't the deal Jaemin, I told you to leave my son alone for those offers, but you don't seem to hold up your end of the bargain."

"What can I say? Despite you being a complete dickhead, your son is quite a lovely darling."

"Well, would your 'lovely darling' like to see this?"

Your father pulled up a video on a laptop his associates were holding, it was Jaemin and his buds in a club, but you can clearly hear what they were saying.

"Jaemin, I heard you 'found the one' you lucky piece of shit," Johnny spoke.

"Yeah, he's been treating him to everything, it's funny how those lovebirds act around each other," Taeyong added.

"There's no way Na Jaemin found someone to 'settle with', boss you're basically a god, you can get whoever the hell you want." Jaehyun drunkenly spoke.

"I can't believe you got lucky with m/n, he's basically the ideal leverage we need to take this gang to the next level," Lucas said.

Your heart stopped, leverage? What the hell was going on? Jaemin was still silent at this point.

Ten then jumped in "There's no fucking way you're actually in love with m/n right? He's not even that good-looking."

"Fuck yeah, the only thing good about him is his daddy" Haechan responded.

"Don't worry guys you know the only reason I'm keeping m/n is so I can milk out m/n's daddy of his money like a cash cow," Jaemin spoke.

You felt the tears starting to pool up in your eyes as they silently fell down your cheek. Is this what Jaemin really thought about you? What the fuck? So all of this was a joke? You were just fucking money to him? You hated yourself for thinking Jaemin actually loved you. Your dad was right, you didn't need a liar and manipulator like him in your life.

After Jaemin's words were played your father's laptop closed.

"What's wrong, Jaemin? Why so silent?"

"You can't do this."

"Who's going to stop me, think about it, it's my word against yours."

"Blackmail is a fucking cheap way to get what you want."

"How else did you think I got to this position? Beating those who get in my way. Now got get my son, get him for me, or else I'll send this to him to watch for eternity."

"...Yes, Mr. y/l/n."

"Oh and for the future Jaemin, do not think about seeing m/n ever again. You know the consequences."

"...Yeah yeah."

You quickly scurried back to the couch and wiped your tears off your face. You pretended to lie down and be asleep. Jaemin shook you to wake you up.

"Hey, baby?"

"Jaemin? What's up?"

"You...you have to go..."

"W-why?" You said trying not to break in front of him. You gazed into his eyes, is this really someone who didn't love you? You can't trust anyone anymore.

"Your dad is a ruthless man, and he has leverage on me, it's something that will change the way you look at me forever. To spare you the pain, I have to let you go now."

"J-Jaemin...fuck you."

You got up immediately but Jaemin grabbed your wrist.

"m/n...just know that I still love you, I sw-"

"You're just a fucking liar, I hope milking my dad's cash cow was worth losing the person who loved you most."

Jaemin realized you heard everything and was stunned. He watched you walk over to your father who embraced you in his arms with fake responses saying how he was so worried and other bullshit like that. Jaemin ran out to the front in hopes of you turning back. He wanted you to turn back, he doesn't want to lose the love of his life. He didn't want your dad's money, he wanted you.

"m/n! Please! I'm so sorry!" Jaemin was crying pleading on his knees.

He looked up at you, the full moon was behind you, beaming through your beautiful hair, reflecting off your soft smooth skin, just like the first night he met you. But this image was different. The moon shined on your tears and the streaks that fell down your cheek. He saw you with endless tears as each drop sparkled like a crystal in the light. You looked down at him and slapped his face.

"Fuck you Na Jaemin, I hope this was worth it."

You hopped into your car with the moonlight shining through your window as you took one last glance at Jaemin. He was broken and defeated. No wish on the moon could save him now.

[tryingmybestpls]

Hurt

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: In a post-snap world, the reader and Steve are falling apart.

Rating: R

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Talks of death, talks of a dead child, infidelity, depression

A/N: this kinda just a fucking bummer. Sorry.

Almost an entire lifetime ago, Director Fury himself had told her that marriage and children only complicated life. At the time, Y/N had brushed it off. She was going to be an SHIELD agent, so she wasn’t going to have time for a spouse and children. And she was completely fine with that at the time.

Now, a part of Y/N wished that she had listened to her boss as she glances down at the shiny granite headstone.

Y/N didn't mean to fall in love with her teammate. Steve and her had a great friendship and it just sort of transitioned into an equally great relationship. Life happens and all that. They had gotten married shortly before the Accords caused the team to fall apart. A year into Steve, Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Y/N being on the run, a smaller, tinier person joined the team.

Steve and Y/N were over the moon about the new addition to their family. Their son James (named after Steve’s best friend) was the sweetest little boy and had both of his parents wrapped around his tiny finger. They quickly adjusted to being parents, managed to balance their new roles and being on the run almost effortlessly. Sure it wasn't ideal, but they had to make do with the situation they were in. Things were fine and the little family was happy.

And then Thanos showed up.

Everyone had lost someone the day that Thanos snapped his fingers. No part of the universe was left untouched. Both Y/N and Steve were still reeling from the losses of their friends and teammates as they rushed back towards the royal palace. They had left James with Queen Ramonda and both of them needed to make sure he was safe, needed him to be okay. Death and destruction was all around them and dust hung in the air was they moved their legs faster and faster.

Instead they were met with the Queen Regent's sobs and a pile of dust amongst James's toys. It was an image that would be ingrained in Steve and Y/N forever.

Once both of them settled into a new apartment in Brooklyn, Y/N had joined a group for mothers who lost children in the Snap. Upon entering the meeting for the very first time, she was met with the glares of every mother in the room. Each one of their gazes seeming to scream at Y/N "This is your fault. You're the reason why our babies are gone.". The leader of the group took Y/N aside and asked with faux sincerity if the Avenger could leave. She couldn't blame them. Y/N would ask herself to leave too if she was in their shoes.

Y/N never told Steve what had happened. She knew he wouldn't understand. No one would ever turn Captain America down, no one would feel uncomfortable by his presence. Y/N on the other hand? Well she wasn't a cherished hero. She was just on the team.

Y/N didn't mean to distance herself from her husband, but it just happened. The day that James turned into the dust, a part of Y/N died. It was hard for her to put her feelings into words when everything just hurt. Y/N tried to talk about it, but her throat would just tighten with emotion as she tried to gather her words. Her days would blur together and Y/N would find herself unable to leave her room. She tried not to sleep, knowing that if she did all she would see is that pile of dust amongst his toys. Steve was patient at first, letting her take her time. Yet as one year without their son turned into two, his patience grew thin.

Y/N was trying her best, she really was. Sure it didn't seem like a lot of progress to just leave the house for short amounts of time, but it was just so hard. She’s lost people before, but none of those losses made her ache in such a way. Her arms felt empty with no child to carry and she felt so alone. Everything reminded her of James. A child laughing, the bounce of a ball, the crunch of the leaves underneath her feet as the seasons changed-everything reminded her of her son. She couldn't even look at her husband without her heart aching in her chest because their son looked just like him. She knew that Steve just wanted her to find a way to get through it and get over it. He had given up on helping her, spending more and more time at his meetings. Y/N just kept telling herself that they were helping him, so it wasn't a big deal if he was gone for most of the day. If he wasn't here, they didn't fight.

Before Thanos, they really didn't fight. Sure they would argue about stupid little things and make up almost immediately, but now? They fought about everything. Y/N asking if Steve could handle grocery shopping for the week would turn into a three hour long screaming match. Steve got pissed off about every little thing she did. Fighting with Steve was exhausting because somehow he always found a way to make Y/N feel shitty about anything she had and hadn't done. There wasn't anymore making up after their fights, no sweet kisses and I love yous. Only doors slamming shut and a lot of words that shouldn’t be thrown around so carelessly.

She tried to ignore it when he'd leave their apartment after they had a fight. Tried to ignore how loud the door would slam, how'd he'd mutter something under his breath as he grabbed his coat and keys. She even tried to ignore the smell of a perfume that wasn't hers when he'd come home, slipping under the covers without bothering to shower. Y/N even  tried to ignore it when he left her alone on Mother's Day, stuck in the apartment surrounding by images of the son she had lost while he was out doing whatever he did before coming home smelling like that perfume.

Y/N knew exactly what he was doing and she didn't know if had it in her anymore to fight with him. She tried to pretend like it wasn't happening until she just couldn't anymore.

"He's cheating on me, Nat." Y/N told her friend over their weekly coffee date-a sign of her progress. Natasha was stunned by the confession and was even more shocked by her friend's tone. Y/N said it like she was talking about the weather, her voice lacking any sort of emotion. The red head sitting across from her slowly put down her cup of coffee.

Y/N has been trying to tell Natasha since it started, but she just didn't know how to say it. Steve was one of Natasha's best friends and Y/N didn't want to tear them apart because of what Steve was doing. However, Natasha was Y/N's friend too and she had no one else to talk to. Y/N was at a crossroad and both of them ended in disaster. It just finally got to the point where she just had to tell Natasha and Y/N knew she shouldn't feel guilty about finally saying it, but she did.

"What do you mean?-I-Are you sure?" Natasha questions as Y/N keeps her eyes down, just nodding in response. Nat's eyebrows furrow together as she continues, "When-When did it start?"

"Two months ago. He-He started to leave after we'd fight and he'd come back smelling like perfume. It's more frequent now. No fights needed." Her tone is so matter-of-fact that it makes Natasha's heart ache. There was no anger in Y/N's words, no resentment. Natasha hates how her friend has come to terms with Steve's infidelity. To Y/N, it felt cathartic to finally say what has been happening. She didn’t want Nat to go and knock some sense into Steve or anything like that. All she wanted was to finally say it aloud, to tell someone what was going on, even though it just made the whole situation real. Y/N turns her head to look out of the window, letting out a shaky breath as Natasha reaches out to hold her hand. Her other hand was left holding her mug of coffee, the gold wedding ring seemingly weighing a tons

An hour later, Y/N sees them as the cab she is in pulls up to the curb. Steve and a young brunette laughing and smiling as they walk out of the apartment building and it feels like Y/N is being stabbed in the chest. Ignoring the pain she's in, Y/N forces herself out of the cab, some sadistic part of her just needing to get out. The other woman sees her first, eyes widening. It takes a second for Steve to realize what had happened, the smile dropping from his face.

The three of them stand there for what feels like an eternity, Y/N still holding onto the cab door. Steve opens his mouth and closes it, not even knowing how to work his way around this.  Y/N was seething, sadness quickly turning into rage. It was one thing for Steve to be sneaking around at night, for him to be hiding the fact that he was cheating. It was another thing entirely for him to be walking around with the other woman, not caring who saw.

Y/N knows that grief manifests itself in different ways, but this is straw that broke the camel's back. Steve had found a way to completely forget about their son and his wife, distracting himself with his stupid little grief circle and a young mistress. Y/N wants to scream at him and make a scene, but she just doesn't have it in her. Tears fill her eyes and as Steve moves to take a step forward, Y/N slips back into the cab, shutting the door behind her.

-

There's a chill in the air as she walks through the cemetery, wrapping her coat around herself a little tighter. It was freezing out and Y/N knows that she should've gone somewhere warm, but here she was. Her feet carried her where she needed to go, working on pure muscle memory. The hero comes to a stop in front of a small stone headstone.

Their therapist had told them that having a place to visit James would bring them comfort in a way. She had also said that burying him would ease some of the pain and help with the grieving process. Y/N didn't want to say that burying that tiny box filled with the dust they had gathered had only made her feel worse. Steve and Y/N had tried to visit as much as possible, even decorated his grave for each holiday, but then Steve stopped showing up.

There's a bouquet of wilting sunflowers in the little hole by his headstone, which she had left for James on Thanksgiving. They'd be replaced in a week or two by bright red poinsettias to signal the change of seasons and holidays. Another Christmas without her baby boy would turn into another year without him. Y/N's throat tightened as she realized that James has been gone longer than he was alive.

As she stood there, the cracks in their relationship became apparent. Y/N knew Steve wasn’t the perfect partner, but all of their big issues had been washed away by all of the good things. When they were dating, everything came before Y/N, which she understood at the time. Saving the world comes first and all that, but as she looks back on it, it wasn’t just saving the world. Others were just put in front of her and she had just chalked it up to Steve just being selfless. He’d miss dates and anniversaries, always giving her a half assed excuse and that thousand watt smile. Steve would always come apologize, holding a bunch of red roses. Each time, he’d look down at the flowers and say that he gotten her favorite flowers. She never had the heart to tell him that her favorite flower was peonies. When they were married, the search for Bucky always came first. Y/N hadn’t minded at the time because she knew how important Bucky was to Steve, but that mess quickly turned into the Accords.

Steve never told her that Bucky had killed Tony’s parents. Hell, he didn’t even really discuss choosing Bucky over the team with her. Steve had just assumed that Y/N was going to stick with him regardless and because Steve had assumed it, so did everyone else, so she was just forced to go along with it. She had been forced into a pair of restraints while Steve jetted off to Siberia with Bucky. Steve never asked if she even wanted to go on the run with him, once again he just sort of assumed. Y/N just fulfilled her role of the dutiful wife

When Y/N found out that she was pregnant, she wanted to take a plea deal like Scott and Clint did. A life on the run of was no life for a baby and Y/N knew it. She was on the brink of reaching out to Tony when she had told Steve that she was pregnant. The thought of her child having a normal life immediately disintegrated as Steve told her that they were going to make this work. The cracks just keep getting bigger and bigger, spreading further and deeper into their relationship. While she had originally thought there was just a few issues suddenly turned into dozens and dozens of red flags.

Time seems not to touch the cemetery, so she doesn't know how many minutes or hours have passed when someone walks up to stand beside her. Y/N knows who it is immediately, but she doesn't bother to greet him. Instead, her eyes just stay on the headstone and they stand in silence for awhile, Y/N slowly coming to terms with what she was going to have to do.

"I'm not doing this anymore, Steve." Y/N finally announces, forcing it through the emotion that currently strangling her. Her  glove covered hands are shoved into her pockets, her wedding ring burning her flesh as she continues, "I want a divorce."

"Y/N, I-" Steve starts, his body turning towards her. Y/N simply shakes her head. She’s utterly exhausted and doesn’t have it in her to fight with him anymore. She feels like she’s aged three lifetimes in the past few years. Y/N loves the man beside her, she truly does, but she knows that she can’t just let this cycle of hurt continue. She couldn’t just forgive Steve and pretend like he hadn’t been cheating on her because there was just so many things wrong in their relationship. Their marriage was damaged beyond repair and Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to fix it. Somethings just don’t need to be fixed and somethings-well somethings shouldn’t be fixed at all.

"Don't. Not here." Y/N tells him cooly, not wanting to fight with him in the last place that is left untouched by their deteriorating relationship. Her eyes study the small Virgin Mary engraved on her son’s grave. They had so many choices of what to put on his headstone, but something had told her to choose Mary. A remnant of her Catholic upbringing, she had told herself at the time. Now she just hoped that the Virgin was watching after her son wherever he was.

“You can keep the apartment. I didn’t even want it. I-I’ll stay upstate with Nat.” She’s leaving no room for arguing, so Steve just nods in response, putting his hands in his pockets. Y/N wanted to tell him to leave, that there was no reason for him to be standing there with her, but James was still his son too, no matter how little he seemingly cared.

So the two of them stood in silence as the cold afternoon turned into an even colder evening in December, the sky darkening quickly. Lampposts flickered on in the cemetery, covering everything in dim, eerie glow. Their breaths came out in small clouds and their toes went numb in their shoes, but they continued to stand there, looking over their son until the sky tuned black above them.

[rhysismydaddy]

We’re Fighting (Nessian fluff)

Ik I said I was coming out with Malorian, but when do I ever do anything I say? Anyway, here’s some wrote-in-five-minutes, total fluff/humor for Nessian.

I’ve been releasing a lot of little blurbs recently, so a multi-chapter fic is coming next!

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Nesta was on her side, glaring at the wall, when she felt a very heavy, very familiar weight settle into the mattress behind her. The frigidity of her glare increased. 

“Why are you in my bed?” 

She heard that soft, sensuous chuckle she’d always loved a little too much. “Nesta baby, you’re a fucking nutcase. We live together.”

Rolling her eyes, she bit back, “We’re fighting. Sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, little lady,” he laughed, somehow sensing what she’d done. “And we aren’t fighting. You are pissed off, and won’t tell me what I did. I’m innocent.”

That got her attention. 

“Innocent?” she yelled, whirling around and smacking his shoulder. “Innocent!”

Cassian smiled up at her, always happy to ruffle her feathers, and gripped his shoulder in mock pain. “Naughty, naughty.”

She ignored her body’s response to that and hit him again. He grinned. 

“Innocent as freaking Mary.”

“Sleep on the couch.”

Her boyfriend of over four years scoffed at that idea. “Absolutely not. You bought that thing, which means it’s meant for fucking midgets. I can hardly fit a single butt cheek on it.”

A smile tugged at her lips, but she snuffed it out. “That sounds like a you problem, Cassian.”

“Actually, it sounds like a you problem, because I’m not leaving.” He reinforced his decision by closing his eyes and letting out a loud, obnoxious snore.

Despite herself, she laughed a bit. “If you think that’s going to annoy me, you should really hear yourself when you’re actually asleep. It’s even worse. You sound like a dying moose.”

His golden eyes opened again, bright with humor. “I don’t snore.”

“Yes, you do. Every single night. But it won’t bother me tonight, because you’re going to the couch!”

“I don’t think I am.” 

She cursed him soundly, flopping back down to her pillow. He smiled, closing his eyes again, sure he’d won the argument. An idea formed, and she didn’t even caution herself before leaning over and squeezing his nostrils together tightly. 

His eyes flew open, and he flicked her wrist until she let go. “What are you doing?”

“If you stay in the bed, you’re not going to get an ounce of sleep,” she told him, dead serious. She’d stay up all night if she had to. 

He rolled his eyes, but instead of retorting, just looked at her, eyes drilling holes into her soul. “Why are you mad? Why is what I said at dinner such a big deal?”

Her anger and annoyance threatened to retreat at how soft his voice was. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Big enough for you to try and boot me out of the bed,” he commented.

Nesta rolled her eyes in deflection, turning on her back and looking up at the ceiling. It wasn’t a big deal. 

At least it shouldn’t have been. 

He hadn’t done anything different or unusual. Someone in their friend group had joked about how long they’d been together, and he’d given the company line they’d both said numerous times: “Least we’re not married.”

It was kind of a joke between them. 

When they’d first met six years ago, they’d both decided against getting married. Cassian thought it was pointless, and Nesta had seen firsthand what a bad marriage could do to someone’s spirit. 

Her sisters had even resigned themselves to never being bridesmaids. Everyone had accepted it. 

But for some reason, when he’d said it earlier that night, something in her chest had crumpled. Especially since it was true.

They’d been together for so long, she couldn’t imagine her life without him. But she still called him her boyfriend. Not her husband, not her partner. 

Boyfriend. 

Which, given what she’d learned earlier this week, made it sound like they were in fucking high school. 

“I’m waiting,” he reminded her, poking her in the arm. 

“Just go to sleep, Cas.”

He did no such thing. Propping himself up on an elbow, her boyfriend looked down at her with questioning eyes. He was always so understanding with her, even when she acted insane. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing; you were right. I’m so happy, I’m shooting daisies out of my ass. Goodnight.”

Cassian laughed a little, but didn’t give up the chase.

“Have you changed your mind about getting married?” he asked, way too good at reading her face and emotions. “You’re upset that we’re not married?”

His gaze on her was too much, so she pressed her eyes shut and blocked it out. Despite not being able to see him, she knew he was still right there, waiting. And that he’d continue to wait until she gave in. So she sighed and let the words she’d been holding in loose.

“I’m eight weeks pregnant,” she whispered, ears going into overdrive to pick up his response.

They were met with nothing but silence.

For once in his lifetime, Cassian was silent. 

She wanted to see him, wanted to know his every expression, but was too scared what it might be. 

Curiosity won out in the end, and she peeked her eyes open, only to be stunned by what she saw. 

Instead of nervousness or anger or dread, he was smiling from ear to ear, a look she’d never seen in his eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

Nesta nodded, confused. 

They’d talked about having kids, but they always agreed to wait a few years before even seriously discussing it. But he looked... he looked thrilled. 

Before she could ask, his head came towards hers, and he kissed her softly, then quickly ducked down to rest his head against her chest. She could feel his smile against her skin as his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight to him. 

Then his hands snuck down to her still-flat belly, and he murmured, “I’m going to be a dad.”

She nodded.

“We’re getting married.”

That was a change in topic.

“What?” 

He glanced up at her, eyes still full of so much joy it took her breath away. “You clearly don’t like the idea of being a mom with a boyfriend, so you can have a husband instead.”

The stupid organ in her chest swelled so quickly she thought she might pass out, but she still muttered, “Great. Now all I have to do is find one.”

“You’re so very funny,” he said back, flicking her nose.

His hands were still on her belly. “So you’re not mad?”

“Mad?” He looked at her like she was crazy. “First of all, it takes two to make a baby, so I could never be mad at you. Second, I’ve always wanted to be a dad. And to see you barefoot and pregnant, yelling at me over something stupid.”

She didn’t have time to respond to how true that was likely going to become before he scooted down the bed and began to press kisses all over her stomach and abdomen. 

“You’re giving me the greatest gift possible, Nesta,” he murmured in between kisses, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m so fucking excited.” 

“Me, too,” she whispered back, finally admitting it to herself. 

Because she was excited. He’d make a great dad, and she couldn’t wait to see the child they’d created. 

His cheek against her stomach, Cassian asked, “City hall tomorrow, or a big, fancy wedding with you in a tulle gown and me with my hair slicked back?” 

Nesta flicked the top of his head, even though she couldn’t stop smiling. “City hall tomorrow. It has to be in the afternoon, because I have a doctors appointment in the morning.”

“A baby-related doctors appointment?” he asked, coming back up to hover above her with a small smile on his lips. When she nodded, he said immediately, “I’m coming.”

She raised her eyebrows. 

“I’m coming to all of them.”

Something about that statement, and the fact that he was willing to marry her whenever and wherever she wanted, made another tear escape. He brushed it away with his thumb, looking a little concerned. 

“I love you, Cassian.”

The concern vanished, replaced by nothing short of admiration and love and happiness. “I love you, too. I’ve wanted to marry your stubborn ass since the day I met you. I’ve just been waiting for you to realize you wanted it, too.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, a huge smile on her face. He knew her better than she knew herself sometimes. 

He kissed her softly, both of them grinning like idiots. “Can I sleep in the bed, then?”

She nodded and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and vowing to never let go.

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This made me so happy to write. I’m such a sucker for cheesy fluff. Thanks for reading. Drop prompts/asks in the box :)

@maastrash @sjm-things @bamchickawowow @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life

[empyreanwritings]

Almost Lost You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: near-death experience, mentions of blood loss, anxiety, minor angst with a happy ending

A/N: Look at me finally putting out a one-shot that isn’t mob related. Aren’t y’all proud of me? adklfjdsf this is written for @mycupoffanfiction​ ‘s writing challenge! My prompt will be bolded below - congrats on your milestone bby! you deserve all the followers in the world <3

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated (: x

The kitchen grew silent the moment you stepped into it. Everyone's eyes were on you, and you could tell they were gauging whether or not they could run over and hug you. Bucky was the first one up and pulling you into a hug, not caring if your body was still healing. You heard Natasha scolding him from her spot at the counter, but he didn't loosen his grip until you hugged him back.

One by one, the rest of the team walked over to give you hugs or gentle pats on the back. You pretended not to notice the way Natasha choked up when she came over to you. Almost losing you was hard on everyone, but she didn't want the others to think she was going soft.

"I'm surprised they discharged you already," Steve said as he made you a plate of eggs. "Did they have any say in the matter?"

"They did," you snorted. "Helen said I'm recovering a lot quicker than she expected. I can't go on assignments just yet, but I don't have to be cooped up in the med bay either."

"What's the damage?"

Bucky was the one to ask this question. Steve threw a glare over his shoulder, and the others didn't seem so pleased with it, but you smiled. It didn't bother you to talk about what the bomb did, especially with Bucky. He, of all people, knew what it was like to be scarred for the rest of your life. His metal arm was a constant reminder of who he used to be.

"The right side of my body was burned pretty bad, so there's going to be a lot of scarring once it's fully healed. Helen wanted to put me in the cradle and recreate the tissue, but I told her no, so we're doing it the old-fashioned way."

"Why? Wouldn't anyone want to keep themselves from being permanently damaged?"

You shrugged. "I think it's a good reminder that I'm still human. My powers may make me think I'm invincible, but I'm not."

There was a faraway look in Bucky's eyes when you said this, and you gave his shoulder a small squeeze to pull him out of his thoughts. He gave you a small smile and a nod before diving back into his breakfast.

By the looks on everyone else's faces, they didn't understand why you chose to heal naturally. The whole "I want to remember I'm human" reason didn't seem like a good enough reason to be scarred for the rest of your life, but you weren't going to explain it to them. There was nothing more to explain; you made a bad call in the middle of an assignment because you didn't think anything could ever hurt you, and you got hurt. You were feeling a lot more humble lately because of it.

You looked around the room, trying to spot the one person you've been craving to see since you woke up. Steve noticed your wandering eyes and shook his head - she hadn't joined anyone for breakfast since that day. She stayed locked in her room most of the time.

You stuffed the rest of your eggs into your mouth and quickly excused yourself to find Wanda. You felt a small twinge of anger at her for shutting herself away from everyone else - away from you. She never once visited you when you woke up, and while you appreciated everyone else's love, you really only wanted her company. Every day she didn't visit, you grew just a little more upset.

Wanda's eyes grew wide when she opened her bedroom door and found you standing on the other side. She silently took in your appearance; you noticed the way her eyes lingered on the bandages wrapped tightly around your arm and torso and sighed. It looked like it pained her to see you like this.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one you are avoiding." You pushed your way past her and made your way to her bed. You plopped onto the side you know she normally slept on and pulled one of her pillows on your lap. She didn't move from her spot by the door, and it only made the anger inside of you bubble up more.

You gestured to the corner of her room where her desk lamp lied in pieces on the floor. "What happened over there?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, right, nothing," you hummed in annoyance. "Because that certainly looks like nothing. You don't visit me in the med bay; you shut yourself in this room and avoid the rest of the team; and your desk lamp is broken, but it's nothing! Everything is fine and dandy in Wanda's head."

She shook her head. "Don't start, please."

"Don't start what? I'm just trying to understand why the hell you've been avoiding me!" You sat up and looked Wanda straight in the eye. You wanted to understand what she was feeling, and you wanted her to feel the heartbreak you felt when your best friend didn't come to check on you. But she broke your gaze and looked down at her feet. "I can understand the others because they're, sometimes, lame but me? I needed you, and you weren't there."

She stayed silent. She refused to look up at you and face the anger you clearly felt, and you let out a small, humorless laugh. If she didn't want to talk, you wouldn't force her. But you weren't going to sit around and wait for her, either.

You slid off her bed and made your way back to the door. You stopped in front of her, gave her a moment to see if she would say anything, but when she didn't, you scoffed and left without another word.

"Y/n, wait-" She tried to reach out for you, but she stopped in fear of grabbing the wrong arm. She didn't want to hurt you or make anything worse.

"No, forget it. I have nothing else to say to you. If you want to keep avoiding me and the rest of the team, that's fine."

"Please just listen to me for one second."

"Just tell me why you're being so fucking weird recently!"

She bit her lip. Tears started to well up in her eyes, and you felt your anger instantly dissipate. Seeing her so torn up made you forget why you were mad in the first place. You hated yourself for raising your voice at her, but she didn't give you time to take back your words because she was pulling you into a hug before she could.

"I'm in love with you," she sobbed as she nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck. "I'm in love with you, and I almost lost you. Do you understand how that felt for me? To hold you in my arms and watch the light literally leave your eyes?"

You weren't sure what to say. You had no idea what that must have been like for her - it was something you never had to experience, thankfully. While you were recovering from the blast, Wanda lived with the memories of watching you fade away from her. No matter how much she begged you to stay awake, no matter how much she wished it was her instead of you, you almost died. And she couldn't help but blame herself for not getting to your dumb ass sooner. Maybe she could have convinced you to be a little more cautious.

Maybe she could have saved you before the bomb went off.

"I took so many showers that night," she confessed quietly, "But I still couldn't get the feeling of your blood off my arms. I tried to come see you - I really did - but every time I stood outside your room, I just remembered the look on your face when you-"

You shushed her, not wanting to work herself up with the memories of what happened. She melted in your embrace when you started to run your fingers through her hair.

She thought she lost your touch forever. She thought she was going to have to live with the fact she loved you and never got to tell you. You could no longer be angry with her for not visiting you because you couldn't imagine that kind of torture.

If you lost Wanda…you weren’t sure you'd be able to keep it together.

You weren't sure how long she stood in your arms, but you had no intention of making her move until she was ready. She needed the chance to enjoy having you back, and you weren't going to take that away from her. Even if your legs were starting to fall asleep from standing so straight.

At one point, Bucky and Steve were making their way towards the hallway, but you quickly shook your head and made them turn in the other direction. Wanda would be horrified if she knew the others saw her breaking down like this. They could handle not going back to their room for another hour or so.

Wanda pulled away slowly and wiped at her eyes to control some of the mascara that was running down her cheeks.

"I look like a mess, don't I?"

You shook your head. "You look beautiful as always."

"I didn't mean for all that to come out," she murmured. "You don't have to say anything back. I understand that I unloaded a lot on you."

There was a lot you wanted to say. If you could take back the stupid decisions you made, you would. You didn't think about how your actions would affect those around you, and you should have. You were aware of that now. You could spend the rest of your life making up for what you did, but no one would ever ask you to do that.

You saved a lot of citizens that day. As much as your team hated what you did, they knew what would have happened if you didn't take the risk.

Wanda waited for you to say something. You could tell by the way she rocked back and forth on her feet that she felt awkward, but she wasn't going to admit that out loud. She had done enough confessing to last a lifetime.

"Ya know, I think I've loved you since the day we met," you replied after another beat of silence.

"You did not!" She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "You're such a liar. You're only saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm not, I really think I did!"

"Stop, you're literally such a liar. We hated each other when we first met."

You gasped. "Did not! I didn't particularly like you because you knocked me on my ass and looked hot as hell while doing it, but I could never hate you."

She looked back down at her feet, trying to conceal the smile on her face with her hair, but it was useless. You already saw it before she even had a chance to hide, and it made a smile grow on your face as well. You thought about making a cheesy comment about how she had the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen, but she wouldn't believe you. Yet.

"There's the smile I love seeing," you teased and gave her side a gentle nudge. "Do you want to get some breakfast?"

"I'm okay. I actually haven't slept yet, and I think my energy is officially sapped from my body." You nodded, taking a step back so she can have some air. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to."

Your eyebrows raised, and your smile grew wider at her word. "Oh?"

"I mean, I just-" She huffed. "I'm just saying, I know you probably didn't sleep well in the med bay, so if you wanted to catch up on sleep, you can do it in my room."

"You don't have to ask me twice, darling."

Wanda stepped aside and let you back into the room. You took a few steps forward but stopped before you went too far. She began to question your actions, but you whirled around and pulled her back into an embrace, this time taking the chance to finally kiss her.

Your hands were on her cheeks. You felt her hesitate for the slightest moment, but she eased into it before you could step back and wonder if this was okay. The second her hands found your hips and pulled you closer, you knew she was more than okay with this moment.

It wasn't a passionate kiss; it was slow and tender. It was your way of reminding her that you were okay, and you weren't going to leave her any time soon. Comfort. Love. Need. The kiss was everything you wanted to say but couldn't find the words to truly convey how you felt, and it was more than enough for Wanda. For the first time since the accident, she felt like she could finally breathe.

"Believe me now?" You mumbled against her lips.

She hummed in amusement. "Not for a second."

"I guess I'll have to keep trying."

"I guess you'll have to."

[kusagrasskusa]

Light X Detective! Reader - "I am Kira"

Summery- Y/N is a teenager given the honor of working for the task force and is with the few who agreed to work in the Kira case. Both while discussing L and on her way to go to the hotel to meet L, she bumps into Light. They get along and have a two minute conversation before she's pulled away by Aizawa. Her biggest flaw is her incapability to shut up, so she sorta explains how she (rather than Pember's fiance) believes Kira can in many ways...

Sorry for the "read more" being so high up lol. When I look through hashtags, I hate it when there's an entire story I already read to scroll past before I can see new ones :)

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"I just don't understand," Y/N huffed as she pushed her hair behind her ear. She clinched the papers in her hand and furrowed her eyebrows together while rereading all the reports that were concluded to be caused by Kira. She sat in a cold room, in a chair that wouldn't warm up, with a bunch of officers who were equally as ignorant and annoyingly loud as the next. A lot of them distrust L as well, creating an unwanted tension that bothers everyone.

"Excuse me, sir," called a brunette boy to another brunette. Okay, maybe not everyone is annoying and ignorant; Matsuda and the Cheif were alright. Y/N smiled to herself as she looked at the two congregating. It's nice to see these two making the atmosphere brighter, she thought. There's been a lot of stress since no one can even began to image how Kira is even existing right now. Whether it's a single person or a group, how can they kill someone from anywhere? Alchemy isn't even real, so how?

And before she knew it, two hours of nothing went by. That is, until, three officers went up to the Cheif and set stuff down on the table. "Sir, we're resigning from the Kira investigation."

The cheif stood up, wide eyed, "why!"

"Because we value our lives! Kira has made it clear that he'll stop whoever gets in his way! We have a family at home and we aren't going to give it up!" One explained, taking deep breaths. The Cheif was silent for a moment before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Take your badges. I completely understand your decision." The cheif stood up, looking around the room. "I want everyone who wants to leave the Kira investigation to stand up. You won't be fired but rather transfered to another case." And just like that, nearly every single person in the case stood up, looking around each other disappointly. Y/N looked around her, glaring at the men around her. Wow, she thought, and I was called weak for being a "little girl."

As people made their decisions on whether to leave, or stay, or whatever, Y/N simply stacked her papers and cleaned her desk. The one she shared her desk had left, so she had a lot more space to put her paperwork. To be honest she didn't really like him all that much; it's random but that man would make the most jokes about Y/N's age and gender. She was the only female and being surrounded by a bunch of guys called for many conversations focusing on how she would interact with people, as if her gender is a defining quality to ever conversation.

But thank God that's over with. As Y/N looked around the room, her eyes widened as her eyebrows furrowed. "What? Like everyone left!" She called out, counting the people left. Masuta chuckled from across the room and she received a disapproving glance from Aizawa. Well, thank God these two stayed. She would be so alone with someone to joke with and another to keep an eye on her.

Aizawa is almost like an older brother/father figure of sorts, which is hella comforting. Matsuda and Y/N have never met before their job, not even happened to lassby each other at any point in their life, yet as soon as they saw each other, they knew each other very well. Immediately they kicked it off and eventually he found a way to convince the cheif that she's worthy of being here with him. He may have even brought up Light to make the cheif feel more personalized. It worked somehow.

The few remaining in the office stood up to acknowledge each other better. And when L finally spoke up from the computerin the back of the room, it was time for the debate on whether we trust him or not. Y/N, the Cheif, Matsuda, and Ukita seem to trust L a lot. Aizawa and Ide seem distrustful, and Mogi is neutral. When L released them to go discuss their views on him, everyone was eager to go.

On the way outside, a smile hung on Y/N's features as she walked alongside Matsuda. He didn't exactly share her energy as he rather just stared at the ground with a look of questioning. "This is a good thing y'know? It finally means we have the chance of a lifetime: to meet L. He would know how to keep us safe so we would never end up like the FBI agents!" Y/N whispered to him, making a small look of relief cross his features. He smiled at her and nodded.

Just a little into the conversation, the group had already began to trust L at least a little bit more. A few minutes later, L was given them directions on how to find him. Like hell I will write this all out, so just know that this happened the same way it did in the anime :). Y/N smiled widely, gripping Matsuda's sleeve and giggling quietly to herself. "This is amazing! We get to finally meet the L!"

"Calm down, L/N-san," Aizawa scolded, sending her a disapproving look. Y/N giggled at his stern face, shaking her head. She leaned on Matsuda's shoulder.

"Come on, 'Zawa! You're not excited? Not everyone gets to do this, y'know," she replied. Chief Yagami sighed and rolled his eyes at her childish behavior.

~~~

Y/N walked the dark streets with Aizawa by her side. She's humming to herself before breaking into a light sing, "hirogaru yami no naka-"

"Do you ever be quiet?" Aizawa asked. Y/N shook her heard before continuing to sing. But this time, she spread her arms out and moved more, dancing to the rhythm of the song. "Stop it, you child! You're gonna draw attention to us!"

"No I won't~ After all, it's the middle of the night," she replied as she pointed around the empty streets with the exception of 3 pass-bys. "No one is gonna care about a stupid little schoolgirl with her "dad" walking around when their tired and want to go home." Oh, in order to keep up a lie that Y/N is related to Aizawa, they found it easier for her to dress in a schoolgirl outfit. After all,, it's a Wednesday so people would think she would have to go to school, meaning she was young enoigh to be his daughter. "It's not like I'm gonna run into someone, eit—" Pffb!

Y/N fell onto the ground and landed in on the pavement. She hit her head on a metal door when she was walking and somehow didn't see it; well, maybe that's because someone opened the door. "Sorry! I didn't see you there," called a soft, masculine voice. He extended his hand towards the girl who was rubbing the mark on her forehead. She looked up at him either an apologetic look as she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

"No, I apologize. I, um, wasn't looking," she responded. Her face was pink with embarrassment so she kept her head low. After all, how does one recover from embarrassing themselves in front of someone so damn attractive?

"Look what you did; I told you this would happen. I'm sorry, sir, for you— Light?" Aizawa asked with a questioning look on his features. The brunette boy smiled at Aizawa, waving.

"It's me, haha. Sorry, I'm not very good with faces. What's your name?" He kindly asked. Y/N looked up at him and admired his features. He looked so calm and collected that it was admiring to her.

"Aizawa," is all he said before Light nodded in remembrance.

"Nice to see you again, sir. Is this your daughter? She looks lovely," Light complimented as he turned towards the short girl, whose face remained as pink as before if not worse. She bit her bottom lip, looking up at him at waving.

"My name is Y/N, nice to meet to you Light," she responded with a bow of her head. Light bowed his head simultaneously with that calm smile never leaving his face. "Sorry again, haha. I'm sorta a clutz," she continued.

Light shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. "No need to be so worried, Miss Y/N. All's forgiven. Actually, I'm rather glad we did bump into each other like that. You're a sweet woman," he replied. Y/N chuckled nervously and felt his charisma hit her deep in the soul.

"I hate to break up you and your boyfriend," Aizawa stepped in. "But we have to get going. It was nice seeing you Light." Light nodded in understanding and YN posted her lip, though also understanding. She looked back at Light, smiling.

"Well, I hope to see you again, Light. Bye for now," she said her goodbyes as Light did the same to her before hey parted ways. "He's cute," she simply stated as Aizawa rolled his eyes.

"You teenagers and your weird romances..."

~~~

Y/N laid there; her books spread out on a table and her head in her arms, breathing softly as she stayed asleep. She was only allowed to work 4 days a week with the task force and this would be one of those days where she had to study hella hard since she wouldn't be able to every Monday and Tuesday. She's in a few advanced classes and they've been getting harder now that she can't focus all her attention on her classes. But damn, she was so tired today! But even so, a simple poke on the back woke her up.

"Excuse me ma'am, are you alright?" A soft voice asked. She stirred around before looking over at the owner of that voice, furrowing her eyebrows together. "Y/N?"

"Light?" Y/N asked, her face turning red in embaressment. "Oh! I'm sorry, were you going to sit here?" She asked eagerly as she gathered her things and put them in together as fast as possible.

"Oh no! I was just checking to see if you were okay, so please do whatever," Light responded. Y/N continued to blush as she mumbled an oh before setting her things back down.

"Sorry, haha... I sometimes get sorta caught up in my studies," she admitted, earning a chuckle from Light.

"No worries. I'd be glad to help if needed. What grade are you in?" Light asked as he set his coffee down on the table, sitting down besides her.

"Senior year. 18 and still can't grow up," she added a self depreciating comment as she rubbed her tired eyes and yawned. Light shook his head, brushing his hand in the air to singal "it's okay".

"No need to be so harsh on yourself. After all, everyone learns in a different way and perhaps the way you're teaching yourself isn't the right way. Instead of reading equations and writing down answers, let's try drawing out pictures of those equations and adding references." Light took the pencil from her side and and began to draw and write put several equations and problems. Needless to say, in about an hour, Y/N had understood every single thing she had worked on.

"You're doing great," Light complimented as he looked over Y/N's paper. Y/N giggled nervously, a Light blush coming to her cheeks.

"Thanks, with your help though," she replied. Light shook his head and handed back the paper.

"Not at all. I just showed you a new technique and told you what you got wrong. It was all you." Y/N thanked him once more before taking a sip of her coffee. It was maybe 9am by now and perhaps she should get going.

"It's getting a bit late. I need to go home soon," she spoke sadly. Light nodded, standing up from the table while Y/N collected her things. "Thanks again, by the way. Especially for staying with me for, like, an hour. That must be hard, heh heh."

Light chuckled, shaking his head. "You need to belive in yourself a little more, y'know. However, anyways, I suppose we should get going now. It was nice seeing you again, Y/N. I look forward to our next encounter." They walked each other out the door before finally saying their last goodbye and parting ways.

~~~

In no time, Light was part of the police task force as well. Side by side Y/N, who graduated with him, someone who he had got close to since their first visit in the cafe. Hell, this far into each other's company and how close they must be true to work, some may even say there's love. Light was that tall, sweet, intelligent, caring boy who never breaks in situations. Y/N was that kind, self-deprecating, cheerful but can be serious, smart, and thorough girl who looks as dumb as a rock. They're very similar in some places and different in others, which is the perfect mix.

"To be honest," Y/N sighed. "I'm really starting to doubt L. He focuses on you way too much, and we really don't have time for that. People are being killed everyday and nothing's being done to stop it." Light nodded, sighing as well. They sat on the top stairs of the roof of the headquarters. "And Kira's supporters give me mixed feelings as well. I understand that what Kira is doing seems righteous, I truly do. They say how these people were never the hero so why should they live? They should live because they shouldn't have to be heroes."

Y/N couldn't help but vent her feelings. After all, a tragic incident had happened to he recently so she couldn't help it. Light picked up on her way more serious attitude towards the investigation and asked what's pushing her so hard. After a little persuasion, he got her to talk about it in a private place. The whole time, she was trying her best to hold in tears when she spoke. "It's bothering me that these supporters think their morally right for thinking the way they do... My uncle, he was killed by Kira last week. And these supporters, they laugh and taunt him because hehe made a mistake when he was young," Y/N hissed, her tears threatening to fall.

"My uncle didn't mean to do it! He was friends with an officer who came over to his house for a party! They got drunk and my uncle wanted to scare awake his friend using a gun he thought was unloaded. He got to watch his best friend's head explode all over his fucking house, all because of a stupid mistake? I was 5 years old, going to the prison every week to him for the little amount of time I could. The officers who would search the visitors knew me; she knew me and who I was going to see, a kindergartener who was scared and hurt by the loss of her uncle. Due to the shooting being accidental, he had less time to serve. And that day, that day where he'd be free, Kira did it. It's fucking disgusting."

Light listened with a frown on his face, patting her back and she hugged her knees and began to cry. It's a shame, really. He sat out there with her for maybe two more minutes before she calmed down.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N. I had no idea," Light spoke sadly, frowning. Y/N shook her head a smile forming on her face. It was clearly force and unhappy, but at least it made Y/N cry less.

"No, no, don't be. I kinda should've expected this. My uncle was a great, funny guy and I wish the world knew that. But anyway," Y/N wiped her tears as she stood up. She extended a hand for Light to take, which he did with a soft smile on his features, and pulled him up. A soft blush hit she cheeks when a

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Sander Schmander

By popular request (*cough* everyone on ao3 and @art3misjade), here is Sander's perspective on events

This segment falls right before Chapter Four of Check Ignition

Sander Driesen was drunk. Honest-to-god, shitfaced drunk. And for the first time in forever, too—he’d laid off the stuff since his treatment plan made it difficult to handle, and since he wanted the meds to actually work. But tonight, he thought, I’ve earned this. Everyone else was drinking. It would be weird if he didn’t participate when his own boyfriend was halfway through his fifth cup of punch.

Fake boyfriend. That was a whole thing.

Now, he lay on the stairs leading upward to the boys’ dormitories. Hopefully those stairs. He didn’t make a habit of visiting the common rooms of other houses, and the layouts tended to differ from one another.

“Sorry,” he croaked to everyone who shimmied their way through. “My bad. Deepest apologies.”

This was why he needed Britt, he thought, to reign in this kind of impulse. Granted, she was the only one who knew about everything else thus far, but he wasn’t going to tell Robbe all that, not when it was already hard enough existing in a magical world with a mundane illness. He wanted to hold onto this last little dream.

Midnight was fast approaching and the bustle downstairs had yet to dispel. Sander tried to move his arms and found them unresponsive. Or rather, he could move them, but it required too much effort to be worth it. He slumped back. More people flooded up the stairs to sleep off whatever terrible concoction was in that punch bowl.

“Robbe has such stupid ideas, I swear,” said Moyo, cresting the staircase. Sander perked up at the sound of Robbe’s name. Probably Moyo. Sander struggled to think through the names of Robbe’s friends—he had them listed in his bedroom for continuity purposes.

He recognized Jens easily enough, because Jens was wherever Robbe was. And Sander watched Robbe a lot. Sander held his breath, as if being quiet could prevent them from seeing him sprawled across their path.

“Shut up,” Jens shot back.

The third boy with them—Alex? Adam?—pitched in, “It’s not Robbe’s fault you don’t get any.”

“He’s throwing away the chance of a lifetime.”

“Shut the fuck up. You sound like an incel.”

“But like, why do they kiss so much? It’s not like you have—” Moyo stopped short as he tripped over Sander’s leg. Despite their somewhat rational conversation, they weren’t any more sober than Sander himself. “Shit, speak of the devil.”

Jens leaned down to Sander’s eye level. “You alright?”

“Never better,” Sander slurred. It came out more like a groan.

Moyo approached to help Jens move Sander from the center of the stairs. They sat him up against the railing on his left side, which was not any more comfortable than the steps digging into his back. Jens was still in full Quidditch uniform (even the chest padding!), Moyo sported a Hufflepuff tie over a t-shirt and jeans, and Adam-or-whoever stood at a quiet distance in a pair of burgundy pajama pants and his Quidditch robes. Sander would have made note to write these in on his list—a good indicator of personality.

Too bad he didn’t have the sense to do so.

“Can’t handle your alcohol, huh?” Moyo asked. He didn’t seem very threatening, though the question was definitely a taunt. Sander’s brain felt like vanilla pudding. Moyo turned to the boys. “Should we wake Robbe?”

“Yes,” said Sander. Oh, hell yes. Robbe. He liked Robbe so much.

The story itself was long and antiquated, a love-at-first-sight kind of deal for Sander. He couldn’t think of one version where he wasn’t the bad guy. He went on a double-date with Britt and her friend, expecting one of Noor’s usual yuppies to show up and bore the whole table with pointless conversation. Then it was Robbe.

Do you ever just see someone, really see them, and—how could he phrase it—know? Or think you know. All things considered, it wasn’t the best sign in terms of his condition.

He had to walk all the way into the next town over to call his psychiatrist, only to realize there wasn’t much to tell her. Hey, I’m infatuated with this guy that my girlfriend’s friend is dating. What should I do? She’d give him some common-sense answer like, Break up with your girlfriend, which he didn’t want to do until he knew what he was feeling would last. So he said, These side effects are nasty, and she reevaluated his dose of Lexapro.

“Let the virgin sleep,” said Moyo.

Sander pitched forward to grab Moyo by the arm. “No, wake him up.”

Because the thing was, time passed, and the feelings didn’t fade. Britt could tell he wasn’t present anymore and said nothing. Maybe she thought it was the Depakote that his psychiatrist added to the cocktail when the antidepressant dangled him on the edge of hypomania. She was a good person. It really wasn’t fair when he told her it was over via owl, and it really wasn’t fair when he seized his opportunity to kiss Robbe in the astronomy tower. The argument in question was not so bad. He conflated it for an excuse to leave her.

“Where’s Robbe?” said Sander. “I have to see him.”

“He’s asleep, downstairs. We gave him a blanket and everything.” Jens passed over his own cup of water. “Drink this.”

“I have to see him,” Sander repeated.

“Yeah, you have to go to sleep. He’s going to be here tomorrow.”

“It won’t be the same tomorrow.”

The whole relationship wasn’t even meant to be a thing. It was a cheap kiss, really, in the astronomy tower. Sander just wanted to know what it would feel like, and he thought it might serve Robbe too, so he did it. Robbe’s appearance the next day was the most unexpected, thrilling twist he could have dreamed of. Except, in a dream, it wouldn’t be fake.

Robbe never missed a chance to restate that it was fake. That wasn’t the best sign, either.

“Aaron, don’t just stand there,” said Jens. “Help me out. Grab his arms, will you?”

“Aaron.” Sander tested out the name. “But you’re Adam!”

“How much have you had?” Aaron grabbed Sander’s arms and lifted. The boys got Sander up two stairs before deciding he was too heavy. They sat him back against the wall.

“Try again,” Jens instructed.

The second try went about as well as the first.

Jens crouched to Sander’s eye level. “Look, is there someone else we can get for you? Or are you cool with sleeping here?” He had to hold Sander’s shoulders in his hands to keep Sander from pitching forward and rolling all the way back downstairs.

“We can’t leave our friend’s boyfriend here!” said Aaron.

“Fake boyfriend,” Moyo added.

Sander groaned. Yes, remind him of that! It was fake! He knew it already! If his psychiatrist could see him now, she’d say—alright, she’d say that he wasn’t allowed to drink on his overly specific medication regimen. But if that weren’t a factor, she’d say some more common-sense things like, “Tell Robbe how you feel. Tell his friends, if you want.”

Fuck, he missed her. He could seek out the phone booth sometime this week and tell her all about it. She loved hearing from him.

“There’s no one,” he slurred. “I’m okay.”

“Fine, there’s us, then,” said Jens. He hefted one of Sander’s arms over his shoulder. “Moyo, take three.”

Moyo took the other arm. They dragged him up the rest of the way, bumping his head on every other stair. He felt like a snow globe in a tourist trap shop, all shaken up, no escape through the glass. Huh. Poetic. Where was Robbe?

“Wake up Robbe,” Sander requested. Jens and Moyo dropped him into the fourth bed in their room. Aaron, Jens, and Robbe lived here; Sander could deduce that from the eclectic assortment of things piled on every available surface. The blankets of the bed in which he lay were already rumpled, implying that someone else had slept here recently. He touched something sticky on the top sheet. Okay, maybe they didn’t sleep.

Jens looked back and forth between Moyo and Sander. “Why?” he asked.

There were plenty of replies Sander could give. We’re fake-dating, and I want it to be convincing.

We’re such good friends, and I want to tell him so.

I think he has my cell phone. Jens might not know what a cell phone was. Sander could never tell with those purebloods.

He and I have plans to smoke weed and throw rocks at pixies in the Forbidden Forest.

Sander said, “I misssssss him,” with the s pulled to the end of the world. Yeah, that would work, too.

“Um, okay,” said Jens. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Then he, Aaron, and Moyo started laughing, although Sander couldn’t tell just what they found so funny. Sander had an alarm on his cell phone to take his medication at eleven PM, since schedule was important to the efficacy of the active ingredients, or whatever it was his psychiatrist said when she adjusted his Lexapro to 15mg. It buzzed in his pocket, but he didn’t have the pills. He was too tired, anyway. It wouldn’t matter if he skipped a dose or two; he’d done worse things than that with lesser consequences.

“You’re going to get Robbe, right?” he asked, and in a moment of clarity, he realized he was a needy boyfriend. He wasn’t a fan of needy Britt. You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Jens yanked the curtains shut across the fourth bed and bound them with a spell. “You’re drunk, go to sleep. We’ll get Robbe.” The boys began another fit of giggling.

It didn’t bother Sander at all. He stared at the arcing pillars that held up the bedcurtains and hummed a David Bowie song into the darkness. He was young and drunk and in love, and anything could happen. So what if Robbe thought their relationship was fake for now? In a matter of time, it would be real.

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XV

(A/N at end)

Parts I-XIV:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Lucie’s Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel’s house was an old brick-fronted Georgian house near the railway station. A suite of severe bottle green horsehair furniture occupied the dark-paneled front room, and Lucie tried not to slide about as she waited perched on the edge of a curlicued sofa. Heavy curtains disguised the elegance of the large windows and stopped the sun from penetrating. A thick Turkey rug in shades of purple and brown added notes of affluence. As she waited, she grew quietly more agitated at the impending conversation she had been practicing since dawn with Grace Blackthorn, of all people. She wished she had the moral strength, or the disciple to stay away as Jesse had requested, but considering what he requested was frot with idiocy and a cruelty unlike himself, she decided to ignore it. Still, after three days of his absence, she could almost feel him smirking in disapproval behind her, but without the courage to face her.

Or perhaps he was being as stubborn as she was.

Impossible, she was far more stubborn.

At last a door opening in the paneling and Aunt Cecily with her dark hair curled and pinned to rest against the nape of her neck, arrived with Grace following behind her. The girl always reminded Lucie more of a ghost than her brother ever did.

“I’ll have some tea brought in,” said Aunt Cecily. “You girls let me know if there is anything else I can bring you.”

“Thank you,” said Lucie, without taking her eyes off of Grace, as her Aunt quietly left the room. When the door clicked shut behind her, Lucie removed her gloves one at a time and placed them on the wooden coffee table in front of her. “And thank you for agreeing to meet with me. My aunt says that you haven’t been accepting much company. Is that because they all know what a conniving monster you are and you’re afraid of what they’ll say... or because you’re embarrassed by what they know?”

“Can it be both?” Grace asked down at her folded hands.

Lucie tilted her head. “You don’t get to sit up here and feel sorry for yourself.”

“That’s not what—“

“Not when my friend is lying on her death bed because of your selfish actions,” she said, straightening her posture as the maid walked in with a silver tray of tea and freshly baked biscuits. “Would you like some tea?” asked Lucie with contempt.

Grace shook her head.

“What you did was utterly abhorrent,” started Lucie, as she poured herself a cup. “Shackling my brother with some dark magic when he was nothing but a stupid, idiotic boy, without the brains or know-how to refuse a beautiful girl; all these years just stringing him along like a lost dog to use for your entertainment when you felt like it. Then, when he was finally free of you; engaged to the most perfect of humans to walk the earth since Raziel himself, and you kiss him, in front of his betrothed.”

“I can explain,” said Grace, though she kept her eyes on her hands which Lucie could now see were trembling.

“I didn’t come here for shallow explanations,” said Lucie, surprised by her cruelty. “If you wish to confess your sins then find a church, I am not here to pardon you. I am here about your brother.”

Grace’s eyes lifted then and widened at Lucie’s words.

“Jesse Blackthorn,” said Lucie. “And don’t bother telling me that he’s dead and has been for years, I already know all of this. What I want to know is where you have his body and your plan for resurrecting him?”

Grace peered at her closely as if looking for signs of madness.

While Lucie would have much rather found this knowledge out herself, she’d come to realize after hours of laborious concentration that if she were going to bring Jesse back from the dead without the last breath of his life, then she was going to need some assistance. And since Jesse, the heartless coward, was no longer responding to her, she decided that the only person in the world that she could possibly alliance herself with was Grace. Grace who lived with the corpse of her dead brother for years inside a dusty old manor. She realized that he may never speak to her again if she did manage to raise him from the dead, but at least he’d be alive.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Grace. Still looking slightly confused. If Lucie didn’t know better, she might believe her blank expression.

“Since you’ve stained yourself an unbelievable liar and a pathetic loner, I’m going to tell you a secret of mine that no one else in the entire world knows aside from my awful brother, but before I disclose this information, if I find out that you’ve told a soul what I’m about to tell you, I will tell everyone what Cordelia and I walked into that night before she left,” said Lucie, looking Grace directly in her solemn silver eyes. “I will destroy your reputation beyond repair that not even Charles Fairchild will stand to look at you.”

Grace’s face dropped, horrified.

“I can commune with the dead,” said Lucie, and sipped her tea. “Your brother,” she willed herself to say his name, “Jesse. I’ve been talking to him for months now. He saved my brother’s life with his last breath that he’d been keeping for himself, for that I owe him more favors than I can possibly repay in this lifetime. I want to help bring him back.”

Grace, who wore an expression, as if Lucie had reached across the room and slapped her suddenly blinked after a long time of not. “Is he here now?”

“No,” said Lucie. “We’re not on speaking terms at the moment. He’s being stubborn. Though, I suspect he’s not far away.”

Grace released a ghost of a laugh that sounded more like a breath. “He’s always been quite stubborn, Jesse. Always.” She gave Lucie a solemn look that roused in her the slightest trickle of sympathy for the girl she considered her enemy. “But I’m afraid I cannot help you.”

“Why not?” Lucie rose as Grace did, preparing to block her path from leaving the room. “Don’t you want to see Jesse alive again? Isn’t that why your mother has been preserving his body all this time? You’ll just leave him to settle in-between realms when he so utterly deserves to return to this one?”

“Of course I want to see my brother alive again,” said Grace. “But you don’t understand what you’re asking.”

Lucy set her teacup and saucer down on the table and straightened again. “I know exactly what I’m asking. I’m not naive enough to think this isn’t dangerous or ridiculous, but I’m also desperate enough to believe that it will work. And since you’ve made yourself quite the social pariah of our small circle, I’m offering you something of a partnership.”

Grace smoothed her pale hands over her lace skirt, embroidered with snowflakes made of gold thread along the hem. “And what would James or Cordelia think of this partnership?”

Without hesitation, Lucie answered. “They needn’t know of it.”

Grace sunk back down onto the sofa, her quicksilver eyes focusing on the teapot in the center of the silver tray as she spoke. “My mother, she was an awful woman— is an awful woman. A tyrant and a bully, but she was not always that way. The world was cruel towards her since her childhood. Death always knocking on her door, but never for her, just for those she loved. It made her cruel and vicious.”

Lucie fought the urge to insist that she already knew all of this and move Grace towards the part where she agreed to help, but she reached for a biscuit instead.

“Death begets death begets death. Did he not tell you, my illusive brother? You cannot take from death without giving to death first and sometimes it takes more than its share.” Grace twisted a silver ring around her middle finger. “I’ll help you, but I’ll ask you first Lucie Herondale, only once and never again, what are you willing to lose to death for the return of my brother? What life are you willing to exchange for his?”

The biscuit turned to ash in her mouth and it took a great effort for her to swallow. Names flashed before her eyes: her mother, her father, James, Cordelia, Uncle Jem, her aunts, uncles, cousins, friends… But before she could answer, her aunt Cecily appeared in the doorway, a letter in the hand that rested at her side.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you girls, but your mother’s sent word,” said Cecily to Lucie. “Cordelia is awake and she’s asking for you.”

Lucie stared out the carriage window the entirety of the drive home, her hands fussing with the fabric of her skirts as London went by out the carriage window. Her thoughts flooded with what Grace had told her about bringing Jesse back from the dead. If what she’d told her was true, and she wasn’t entirely sure that it was, she’d need to find another solution and soon.

Why didn’t Jesse tell her? She wondered. Why didn’t he say anything? He must have known and instead of simply explaining what it would cost to bring him back from death, he ran away like a petulant child.

Recovering her composure by taking a steady breath through her nose and out her mouth, Lucie tried to think about her situation in a less objective way. It was a trick her father had taught her as a child when she was sad or angry. To analyze the problem in a larger, more empirical way would, he always said, improve her mood and her intellect at the same time. Though she now thought it possibly a very unsuitable response to a crying child, she often found herself rearranging her problems as if planning to present them in a small treatise.

Besides, she couldn’t think about her situation with Jesse now. There was a more pressing matter at hand. Cordelia was awake. And Lucie's intricate web of lies to keep Belial’s agenda unknown until she could figure out how to bring Jesse back to life and anyone finding out about her ability would only draw unwanted attention to herself. She needed to know how much Cordelia remembered of what Belial said to Lucie and how much she’d already told the others.

Lucie was out of the carriage before the driver could open the door for her. She gathered her skirts in her hands and took the marble steps two at a time and burst through the doors and nearly slid to a halt on the wood floors as her eyes befell Cordelia standing by the front window between her mother and Alastair.

All of Lucie’s worries suddenly vanished like steam from hot tea into open air.

Cordelia looked a vision standing in front of the floor to ceiling stained glass window, cut with colors to look like a lake with a shining angel hovering above it. Lucie took in every detail in her mind to use in her writing later: elegant in a pink silk dress that hugged her frame. Her vibrant red hair had been twisted back in a coronet with tightly wound curls hanging in her face. Her skin lush with color in her cheeks and her eyes were alert as they caught Lucie. A sad smile broke across Cordelia’s face as she looked upon her friend.

“I’m sorry!” Lucie shrieked and ran the rest of the way towards her friend with arms outstretched. Cordelia opened her own and welcomed Lucie without hesitation. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I should have been—“

“Careful, Lucie,” said Tessa sitting on the couch between her father and Uncle Jem. “Cordelia is still healing.”

Lucie cursed, which earned her another scolding from both of her parents this time.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated to no one and everyone.

Cordelia’s smile brightened as Lucie released her and stepped back. “It’s alright. I’m not as fragile as they’ll have you believe.”

“She is,” said Sona, who also appeared healthier than when Lucie had seen her last. “She won’t admit it, but she is.”

“I will mind myself perfectly,” promised Lucie, with a nod. She made a face only Cordelia could see and understand, earning herself a laugh from her oldest friend.

“May we have a moment,” asked Cordelia to the people in the room. “I wish to speak to Lucie alone, if that’s all right.”

Sona looked to be about ready to disagree, but Alastair took her hand and led her towards the doorway that went into the dining hall. Tessa, Will, and Jem followed after leaving Cordelia and Lucie alone.

“Should we sit?” asked Lucie. “Are you still in terrible pain?”

“Not so much anymore,” said Cordelia, as she lowered herself onto the sofa. Though the way she angled her body showed that she favored her left side some. Sitting beside Cordelia, Lucie could see what she could not before. The dark shadows underneath Cordelia’s once bright and vibrant eyes, now dull by what she’d seen; what had happened to her. The dryness of her once smooth lips. The veins in her neck and dark bruising along her chest that peaked out from the lace collar of her dress.

The memory of finding Cordelia collapsed in the sand at the feet of Belial, like a broken doll, assaulted Lucie. Her mouth went dry and her eyes burned as the sound of her screaming Cordelia’s name through the wind echoed in her ears.

“You look well,” said Lucie, her throat tight and unlike herself. “You didn’t miss much while you were asleep. We were all scolded something terrible for going after you without informing the adults. We’re all on a strict curfew and cannot go out in large groups unless it’s for something mundane.” She reached forward and took a biscuit from the center of the coffee table. She took a bite and chewed for a moment, dusting the crumbs from her skirt, thinking of a way to approach the Belial subject without frightening Cordelia back into a coma. “Probably for the best. My brother and his band of— whatever they call themselves— can use a little restriction.”

Cordelia tensed a fraction, but enough for Lucie to notice. She quickly went over her words to see what she might have said and realized that her delinquent brother was not amongst the people in the room when she’d arrived.

“You haven’t spoken to him?” asked Lucie.

Cordelia shook her head.

“Good,” said Lucie. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Consider me your personal guard. I will shield you from his presence at all times.”

Cordelia’s mouth twitched at the corner. “Thank you,” she said, “but I think it’s important that we talk if I’m going to be staying here a bit longer with my family.”

“A bit longer?” Lucie inhaled. “You’re still leaving for Alicante?”

Cordelia nodded. “Once everything settles down and I remember what it is that happened to me inside the shadow realm with your— with Belial.”

Lucie could not restrain a slight start of shock. “You— you don’t remember anything?”

Cordelia only shook her head, those intricate curls falling across her face as she looked down at her hands. “I only remember leaving the institute with Alastair and then everything goes dark. Brother Zachariah said that it’s not uncommon for memory loss and that what I might have suffered was traumatic.” She said the word as if she didn’t quite trust it. “It’s the mind’s way of protecting itself. They told me that you were there. That you rescued me.”

Lucie could hear her heart beat in her ears as she met the expectant eyes of Cordelia, searching for the pass that would free her of London, James, Belial, and the memories that came with all three.

When Cordelia left that fateful night after finding Grace and James in the throws of passion, and Cordelia told Lucie that she was leaving with Alastair to return to Alicante indefinitely, she’d been overwhelmed with a dreadful loneliness that she often felt as a child when James would dismiss her to play with the other boys including Anna, and all Lucie had were her stories. While stories were a wonderful place to spend her time, some intrinsic part of her craved companionship, if not someone to share her stories with.

And then she met Cordelia, and not only did she have someone to share her stories with, but she had someone to fill her stories with. She wanted to write many more adventures of the beautiful Cordelia; their adventures as parabatai, when it was unexpectedly ripped away from her.

And now, she was being presented a second chance. But, as with everything, it came with a terrible price.

“Lucie?” said Cordelia, as if she’d been saying it for some time. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Lucie nodded and reached to take Cordelia’s hand in her own.

“They said that you brought me back from the Shadow realm?” asked Cordelia. “How? What did Belial say? Why did he want me?”

“He was after James.” And there went another strand to the web of her lie. Lucie released Cordelia’s hand and smoothed out her skirt. “I suppose word got around of your engagement. Apparently even in the Shadow Realm, engagements announcements do not go unnoticed. He thought that if he captured you it would draw James out of hiding, but instead I arrived. I tried to kill him, but he cannot be killed by earthly or heavenly weapons, and since I have nothing to offer Belial, he threatened to kill us both and return our corpses.” She went on perfecting her story as if she were writing at her desk and not lying to her friend. “He was about to do it too, but I managed to convince him that wasn’t in his best interest. If he killed me then he’d never gain access to James. So, he settled for your life instead. You did a wonderful job convincing him of your death. I, for a moment, believed it myself. The next thing I know, we were falling through what appeared to be a dark tunnel and when I opened my eyes again, we were back on the street. James found us moments later.”

Cordelia frowned. “He was after James?”

“Yes,” said Lucie, taking another bite of her biscuit. “Poor company that brother of mine. Biscuit?”

Cordelia shook her head and while she asked no further questions, Cordelia seemed to ponder Lucie’s story.

The door to the foyer burst open followed by a cacophony of loud voices and even more obtrusive footsteps as Thomas and Christopher walked into the Institute, arguing with someone over their shoulder about being five minutes late.

“Thank you for this information, Thomas” said Matthew following behind them. “Years of academia and study and I never did manage to learn how to tell time.”

James emerged last, his hands tucked in his trouser’s front pockets, as he extended his leg back to close the door. A smile curved on his mouth that did not reach his eyes then wandered towards the sitting room where Lucie remained beside Cordelia, watching her friend intensely.

Cordelia stood, her dress falling around her ankles, her fingers gliding over the fabric as she said, “Hello James.”

(Author’s Notes: Hi guys! I hope you’re all doing well. Thank you for the kind words on the last part. I missed writing/reading with you guys and I’m so thankful that you all came back to The Last Night. I have a new obsession, I’ve finally read Sarah J Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses. Have you all read this? Am I super behind? It’s amazing! I love that story so much, so if my blog is suddenly splashed with ACoTaR, then ya’ll know why now. It’s just SO good! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please hit that reblog and spread it around, give it some love, leave me a comment about what you thought, and follow along for updates. Okay, love you guys, bye! Next update Sunday 9/13)

[writingtoforgetreality]

Stuck with U (Peter Hale x Reader)

[Teen Wolf-Masterlist]

Summary: The only thing the pack wanted to do was to find the hunters that kept hurting the innocent. A plan was a good start but what if they managed to kidnap you anyway? And if that was not enough...with Peter out of everyone. To say you guys despised one another would be an understatement. Still, the most important thing now was to keep a clear head & to work on a solution. Together.

Words: 3,482

Warnings: language, Peter & Reader being sarcastic assholes, age gap (Reader is of legal age), kidnapping, angst (so much angst), fluff (bc let´s be honest...Peter is a big ol´ softie)

Inspired by: “Stuck with U” by Ariana Grande & Justin Bieber 

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Mmm Hey, yeah (That's just for fun) (What?) Ah, yeah

You were in your senior year of high school & even though you loved your friends endlessly, you were eager to graduate & leave Beacon High behind you. There were just way too many bad experiences you associated with that place. But, on a lighter note, if you had not started at this high school, you would have never met the pack. At first, it scared the shit out of you. The monsters you had dreamed about as a small child were reality. They were somewhere out there, in the dark corners of the country.

Lately, you guys had a little, well actually not so little, problem with a few hunters who wanted to see your pack dead, you included. Why? You were not sure. It was not like you were a werewolf or a banshee. Just a simple teenager who got thrown into this mess. But you did not want to have it any other way. Yeah, the days as an average human surrounded by powerful supernatural beings were hard but you knew how much you were needed.

You were all located at Derek´s loft, figuring out a way to stop the hunters. Now, not all hunters were bad. Chris Argent, for example, was eager to help you guys to put the killers to a stop just as much as you did. The thing was that it always seemed they were a step ahead of you. Even some of Stiles´ plans had previously failed, much to your dismay.

“Maybe we should just go into groups of two & trick them into thinking we´re not all planning on hunting them down?” Peter sighed with a roll of his eyes.

“Sure, because that always works in the movies, right?” it was you who shot him a glance, making the rest of the pack grow quiet.

Peter & you hated each other. Ever since you guys first met. You were fed up with his constant sarcasm & how he could not see the real danger & had to make fun of everything. He immediately caught up to your negative feelings toward him, thanks to his werewolf senses. And neither of you were sure why you hated each other so much, you simply kept rolling with it. The others were at a point where they did not even pay much attention to your bickering anymore. You had better things to do for fuck´s sake.

You were not really paying attention to what the others were saying, too lost in your own thoughts. Graduation was way sooner than you anticipated & you had not really spent a lot of time studying, due to those fucking hunters. What was even worse...you had to deal with a big ass crush. It was not like you wanted to catch feelings, it just sort of...happened. With so many amazing, kind & attractive guys in your pack...you had to pick the one you “hated” most: Peter Hale. Maybe that was another reason why you always fought with him. To keep your feelings at bay. First of all, he was too old for you, clearly he would not have any interest in such a young person. Second of all, he hated you with his guts, you were sure & everyone else could feel it too. So you hid your feelings, acting as if nothing bothered you whatsoever. By the time you started focusing on the conversation the pack held, the plan was already settled. And by your surprise, Peter´s plan was about to happen. Stiles said if you were able to circle them & two of you being baits, you actually had a chance of stopping them. The pack decided to set out at night so less people would be able to see you.

~time skip~

Another one of Stiles´ plans (well, actually Peter´s plan) failed. At first, everything looked optimistic. You all got into groups of two & Scott said it was better for you to be a bait. Of course you understood why, you did not have “superpowers” like the rest but you were not that bad when it came to fighting, you had to give that to yourself.

“Okay, fine. Does that mean Stiles & I are a group?” you gave up & asked the obvious.

“Um, actually...(Y/N), I need Stiles next to me & we thought it was the best if Peter & you teamed up” Scott hesitated & scratched the back of his neck, knowing you were not okay with the pack´s decision. His words made you snap up. You could not believe what you just heard. You & Peter? It was bad enough that you guys always argued but it was even worse because you knew you could not keep focus with him next to you. Stupid crush…

“I think the fuck not.” Peter growled, throwing a disgusted look at you. Very nice of him. You would lie if you said you were not hurt by his words.

“Peter, you are the last one to decide in this group. So if we say you & (Y/N) are the baits then you don´t argue with us, understood?” this time it was Derek who tried to talk some sense into Peter. It seemed to work because after that, Peter made his way over to the couch & sat down, leaving the rest of you in the kitchen.

“Good luck with him, sweetie. If you need help, you know what to do.” Lydia winked at you, then her face showed a sympathetic look. I'm not one to stick around One strike and you're out, baby Don't care if I sound crazy But you never let me down, no, no That's why when the sun's up, I'm stayin' Still layin' in your bed, sayin'

It was dark & Peter & you were already on position. It was an abandoned alleyway and you would have lied if you claimed you were not scared. Peter seemed to sense your anxiety & tried to calm you down, at least a bit. 

“We have so many badass people on our side, they won´t let anything happen to you. Besides, you still got me.” with that, he shot you a wink to which you started blushing. Your eyes focused on the floor so Peter would  not notice you cheeks heating up. Due to your reaction, he assumed you were but he did not comment on it. He simply smiled. A smile you could not see because your own shoes seemed to peek your interest more.

“(Y/N)! Watch out!” Peter´s scream was the last thing you heard before passing out.

Here you were. Tied up in a room that seemed to have no doors. This fact alone let your anxiety rise up the moment you opened your eyes. Looking around, your eyes settled on Peter who was just a few feet away from you, still unconscious.

“Peter! Peter, wake up!” after a few more tries you heard him groaning out. His wrists were bruised, just like yours, from being tied up. If you had not known better, you would have guessed you two had been held hostage for a long time.

“You alright?” were Peter´s first words, directed at you. You were confused, since when did he care about your well-being? Nevermind, you had bigger issues at the moment.

“I´m fine, how about you?” you lied. To be completely honest, you were a wreck. Your heart was racing, your throat was dry, your wrists were bleeding so bad, they were numb.

“Cut the bullshit, (Y/N)! I´m a werewolf...not a dumbass.” he stated matter of factly. That made you tense up even more. You really were not in the mood for dealing with his hatred.

“Look, Peter, just for as long as we´re here, can we stop the arguing? It´s not helpful.” your voice sounded exhausted. At first, Peter wanted to come at you with a snarky remark but when he looked over to you, he saw nothing but fear so he decided against it.

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Got all this time on my hands

Might as well cancel our plans, yeah

I could stay here for a lifetime

Neither of you said much but you both knew you had been locked up for a couple of hours by now. While you were way too tired to think of an escape plan, Peter had spent most of the time using his claws to free himself of the rope wrapped around his wrists. You had told him a while ago that his attempts were useless but he had just growled at you & kept going. Not wanting to argue any further, you let him do whatever & just stayed silent, trying to calm yourself.

Suddenly, you felt someone grabbing your hands, making you shriek. You thought it was one of the guys who had kidnapped you but were surprised when Peter crouched down in front of you.

“Shh, it´s just me, you´re alright.” his voice had a soothing tone to it, something you had not heard from him before. A look at his wrists made you wince. You were sure yours did not look any better. Peter used his claws again, this time working faster because he had two hands he could use. When you were finally freed, your arms fell to your sides, not being strong enough to take a closer look at your wrists.

“We need to bandage your wrists up, otherwise they get infected. Yours are way worse than mine.” his voice was barely above a whisper &, to your surprise, it managed to calm you down a lot better than you thought it would.

“Why?” was all you could say. His eyes searched your (E/C) ones, his face showed a pure look of confusion.

“I just told you, so they don´t get infected. Maybe you should actually listen to what I say.” Peter chuckled as he ripped two pieces off his shirt to wrap around your wrists.

“No, I mean...why are you helping me?” you kept your voice low, somehow embarrassed that you were in need of his help. Usually, you would try everything to handle such things on your own but your exhaustion made it a bit hard for you.

“Because your wrists look, sorry for my language, disgusting & we´re the only ones here right now. If we wanna get out, we need to help each other. Now, would you please shut up & let me treat your wounds?” Peter made sure that the usual bitterness of his voice was gone. He did not want you to freak out even more. If he were honest, he hated seeing you like this, completely worn out & filled with anxiety. He should not have these feelings right now. The only thing that mattered was getting out alive. Why was he thinking about his crush on you? Peter had always felt drawn to you from the moment you first met. Obviously, he was aware of the age gap & that you somehow seemed to hate him. So, to keep things even, he matched your attitude but in a more playful manner. Deep down, every time you guys argued, his crush on you got slightly bigger.

“Thank you.” you breathed out & looked at Peter as he finished bandaging you up. He sent you a small smile which you reciprocated.

“Anytime, darling.” Peter winked at you & yet again caused you to look at the floor & try to hide the blush that crept on your cheeks.

So, lock the door and throw out the key

Can't fight this no more, it's just you and me And there's nothin' I, nothin' I, I can do I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you So, go ahead and drive me insane Baby, run your mouth, I still wouldn't change Being stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you, baby

“Peter?” you asked after a while of comfortable silence. Both of you had tried everything possible to find an escape but escaping a room without any windows or doors was hard.

“Hmm?” he looked up at you to find you fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“What if we die in here? What if Scott & the rest won´t find us? What if-” but Peter cut your rambling off.

“(Y/N)...Try to breathe, okay? In...and out. In and out. There you go.” he went over to you & sat himself right beside you, his thigh next to yours, slightly touching. He waited until he spoke up again.

“Look, first of all, & I told you this earlier, Scott & the rest are freaking badass & they will do everything to find us & get us out, okay?” as you nodded he continued. “And IF it really comes to the outcome of us dying in here, & the possibility of doing so is incredibly small, then we should set some things clear, don´t you think?” he smirked at your confusion.

“What´re you saying?”

“I don´t know...Getting to know each other better, I guess. The only thing I really know about you is that you have an attitude & you seem to use sarcasm as a defense mechanism.” you playfully hit him as he said the last part. “Okay, okay. Let´s start simple then. Hmm, let me think, oh, I got one: Why do you hate me so much?” & with that question of his, you guys started talking, actually talking, not arguing, for the first time ever.

There's nowhere we need to be, no, no, no I'ma get to know you better Kinda hope we're here forever There's nobody on these streets If you told me that the world's endin' Ain't no other way that I can spend it

After what felt like hours, Peter & you found out that your hatred for one another was based off a big misunderstanding. This was just one of the many facts you learned about him. He was right, if you were about to die in this room, then at least with clearing things up. By the time, you were both too exhausted, too tired to talk any more. You did not recall how it happened but your head was laying on Peter´s chest, right above his heart, calming you down. Before you knew it, the both of you were fast asleep.

Oh, oh, oh, oh (ooh) Got all this time in my hands Might as well cancel our plans (yeah, yeah) I could stay here forever

Peter & you were shaken awake by bashing on one of the walls. Peter motioned for you to stay behind him, just in case. Yeah, you were skilled in fighting but he was still way stronger than you. Perks of being a werewolf. From behind, you could see his sharp claws, ready to attack. It almost sounded like a faint voice calling your names. Was this Scott? Maybe you were starting to hallucinate due to the lack of water, food etc. The wall came crashing down but before Peter could jump into action, you screamed “Scott?”

“Oh, thank god..” said Lydia who was right behind Scott. Stiles came rushing forward towards you, kind of ignoring Peter (they did not really get along, surprisingly).

“Are you okay?” Stiles grabbed you by your shoulders & just as you wanted to answer him, the world around you became pitch black.

So, lock the door and throw out the key Can't fight this no more, It's just you and me And there's nothin' I, nothin' I, I can do I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you So, go ahead and drive me insane Baby, run your mouth, I still wouldn't change Being stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

You could muster some voices in the distance, they sounded far away & you wanted nothing more than to open your eyes & scream for them to get you. But your eyelids felt way too heavy, giving you a hard time to open them. Then, you felt someone taking your hand, the touch felt familiar, warm but you could not quite make out who it was.

“Come on, (Y/N). Wake up. You can´t just open up to me like that & then...disappear. What would I do without your sarcastic comments? Stiles´ comments don´t count, he´s a douchebag. What would I do without your attitude? (Y/N), what would I do without...you?” Peter whispered, not wanting anyone to hear what he just...confessed. Little did he know you actually heard every bit of his confession & you hated your body for not reacting the way you wanted. Peter did not leave your side, though, wanting to be there when you woke up.

Woah Baby, come take all my time Go on, make me lose my mind We got all that we need here tonight

“It´s been days, Peter. You heard what Melissa said. The stress, the anxiety mixed with the exhaustion you both endured, was a lot for her. It will take a while until she wakes up & even if she does...it will most likely take a while until she´s back to her old self.” Derek informed Peter once more about your current condition. He was aware of that, of course, it still did not sink in. He needed you & it took the both of you almost dying for him to realize it.

“I know...It´s just, ugh, I hate myself for not noticing sooner.” Peter sighed, sadness written all over his features.

“Noticing what exactly?” Derek furrowed his brows, waiting for Peter to continue. After that, Peter told Derek everything that had happened between the two of you from the moment on you were kidnapped. This story made Derek realize. Peter had a huge ass crush on you & still had not had the chance to tell you.

“She´ll wake up” Derek tried reasoning. He went over to Peter & gave him a pet on his shoulder.

I lock the door (lock the door) and throw out the key Can't fight this no more (can't fight this no more), it's just you and me And there's nothin' I, nothin' I'd rather do I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you So, go ahead and drive me insane Baby, run your mouth, I still wouldn't change All this lovin' you, hatin' you, wantin' you I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with You, oh, oh

“Hey (Y/N), I brought you coffee, figured you would need it after waking up from such a long nap.” Peter slightly chuckled as he moved closer to the bed you were currently laying in. He placed your cup on the bedside cabinet & took a sip of the one in his hand. His free hand found its way to yours, he interwinted your hands, bringing it up to his lips to give it a small kiss.

“Didn´t know you were such a softie.” you croaked out. As soon as you chuckled you felt how dry your throat was & started coughing. Peter´s eyes widened at your words. You were awake, finally! He grabbed a class of water, helped you sit up & handed it to you. You downed it entirely, the liquid soothing your throat.

“How...How are you feeling? No lies this time!” Peter once again took your hand into his, enjoying the contact & you did not mind either.

“Not gonna lie, I´ve been better. But I´ve been worse too, sooo…I´ll live.” you made sure to send a smile towards Peter in order not to scare him. You were exhausted, yeah, but you would be okay.

“You scared me there for a bit.”

“Because I looked...how did you put it? Disgusting?” your exaggerated voice made him laugh & you joined him.

“On a more serious note...(Y/N), um, I wanted to tell you-”

“I heard you the other day. When you confessed, I heard you but I couldn´t open my damn eyes. I just couldn´t. So, to ease your mind, I was thinking the exact same thing, Peter.” you took his face into your hands & pushed him towards you, your lips colliding, moving in sync. Finally, after many doubts & many arguments, you were kissing him. The Peter Hale. And it was even better than you had ever imagined. After a while, you two pulled away.

“This doesn´t mean I´ll stop dropping my sarcastic comments, just so you know.”

“I wouldn´t want it any differently.” Peter leaned in once again for another kiss. He made sure to put every bit of emotion in it, wanting you to know how he felt for you.

“Guess that means I´m stuck with you then?”

“I guess so.”

Stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

Published (06/29/2020) by Cathy

Tags: @exceptionallytiredzombie , @theloveshow , @theycallmequeenie , @letsgotothecityandfallinlove , @marvel-gives-me-feels , @blog-lady-vi , @kissingvalentino , @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen , @iclosetgeek , @captainoffantasy [love to everyone tagged <3, let me know if you want a part 2]

[argylemnwrites]

Romantic Dreams Must Die

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Book 1, chapter 18)

Word Count: ~2100

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: “So close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one’s not pretend.” ~So Close; written by Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz

Author’s Note: Written for the @choicesmonthlychallenge for August 5 - let go. Set during the dance between MC and either Hana, Maxwell, or Drake at the Coronation Ball. Inspired by the song “So Close” performed by Jon McLaughlin in the movie “Enchanted.”

Drake didn’t dance. Not since Savannah’s first few balls at least, when she’d begged him to not let her look like a loser by not having a partner. Back then, he’d grudgingly stumbled through a couple of dances with her leading him around, sure of all the steps while he tried not to let her down by tripping over his own feet. He hadn’t danced in over a decade, since they were both teenagers.

Hell, it had been years since anyone had really tried to get him to dance. Every so often, a crown chaser would approach him at the bar and fish for an invite, but most of them had done their research by this point and focused on trying to chat him up over a drink. It had certainly been a long time since Liam had attempted introducing him to daughters of diplomats or industry leaders at a ball or gala, and even Maxwell had stopped trying to force him onto the dance floor a few years back.

But here he was, dancing with Riley Liu. He’d dressed up in a frickin suit for her already tonight, so really this was just the next natural step in his journey into self-delusion. It was still unnerving. She shouldn’t have this sort of effect on him. For many reasons. Yet here he was, shuffling along as he tried not to make an even bigger fool of himself. He just couldn’t say no to her.

The trouble was, he realized, that she made it too easy to forget why she was here. When she sat on the floor, legs twisted like a pretzel in a pair of skin-tight jeans, an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge as he attempted to figure out whether to match her ante or fold during a late-night poker game, she didn’t seem like a future queen. When she swiped his flask and took a swig, giving him a middle finger as he protested, she also seemed like a total outsider at court. And now, with her body pressed gently against his, the scent of her peach perfume or lotion or whatever she used all he could smell, she didn’t seem like she was in love with Liam.

If only he could stay in a little bubble with just her, no one else, he could almost imagine a life with her. Where she was his, where he was… happy. But that wasn’t how the world worked. There was Liam and other nobles and a kingdom. And then there was him. And unlike him, she could fit in with all those other people. She had very nearly found a steady place among them already, and when Liam proposed to her tonight, her acceptance would be complete. No matter how much she insisted that wasn’t the case.

Her words were going to haunt him for the coming weeks. I promise, I’m still the same Riley. She made it so easy to believe that it was true. That she would still be a vision of snark and sarcasm who gave zero fucks. Hell, she probably thought that was the case. But Drake knew this place well enough to realize that he would have to be a damn fool to believe that was possible. Because when Liam got down on one knee, she was going to say yes. It would be nothing short of a foolish fantasy to imagine any other response.

Within months, she would be Queen of Cordonia. The wife of his best friend, living a fairy tale come to life. And he wasn’t going to have any part in it. Not in any way that mattered. Sure, he’d see her around. But she wasn’t going to find him in the lounge for drinks and poker. She wasn’t going to hold his hand as he told her about how much he missed Savannah. She certainly wasn’t going to hold him or kiss him again. And it was selfish for him to want to cling to those moments in between when she would be getting so much more. When he knew Liam and her could have a lifetime of happiness together.

Tonight was the end of any semblance of closeness between them, all of which was likely just a side effect of her initial confusion and irritation with the other members of court and her need to talk to the only other person around who understood her anger and frustration anyway. But he worried it would be the end of so many other things - her humor, her temper, her aggressively competitive spirit. Slowly but surely, all those things, everything that made her so fucking fantastic, would get shoved away, able to be a part of her less and less often. Diplomacy and negotiations, not sarcasm and fire, would be all she was allowed. And it would change her, maybe slowly at first. But years from now, she would look back and wonder how she had ever dropped an f-bomb in public, marvel at the fact that she ever told Olivia to shut her damn mouth.

It was just the way things would be, the inevitable future. And he needed to remember that. Not get swept up in this moment, not let himself believe things could ever work out. But he wasn’t ready to let go of Riley. This Riley, the way she was right now. So he held her as he tried to keep up with the steps of the waltz. Just for a moment letting himself feel like maybe, just maybe, this time, it would be different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Drake didn’t dance. She’d learned this fact very early on. At first, she thought he was just being a fucking dick when he refused to teach her the Cordonian Waltz, but it became rapidly clear that Drake, in all his years hanging around the palace, had never picked up any ballroom dancing. And as the months ticked by, as she actually got to know him, befriended him, and felt drawn to him over and over again, she wondered how she had ever suspected that Drake would have been able to teach her any formal dancing. He wore denim to formal galas and events, for fuck’s sake. He might as well have tattooed “I hate all this shit” across his forehead - the message would have been the same.

But tonight… tonight he wore a suit. She didn’t know what it meant. He’d made it sound like Liam had basically demanded his presence, so she wasn’t sure why he’d bothered to dress up when he clearly didn’t actually want to be here. It was throwing her and everything she thought she knew. The fact that he looked damn handsome in his suit wasn’t helping matters either.

She knew her feelings for Drake were a problem. She finally had a chance at happiness with a prince who seemed straight out of a fairy tale, and she had to go and complicate everything by liking his best friend way too much, and in ways she definitely shouldn’t. The first time in years she’d let herself embrace anything more than something physical with a guy, and she found herself in some mad love triangle between best friends. 

Except for it wasn’t a love triangle. It was one guy who was the clear and obvious choice and one who had heartbreak and emotional unavailability written all over him. Being with Liam should make everyone happy, including her with her cargo load of baggage and abandonment issues. Being with Drake would probably cost her Maxwell’s friendship, Liam’s kindness, and her own sanity as Drake undoubtedly continued to run hot and cold with her. This shouldn’t even be a fucking choice.

This had to be her mantra. She needed to repeat it over and over to herself, somehow make herself believe it. She’d thought she was almost there, almost on board with a future with Liam, but then Drake wore a suit and told her he liked her just as she always had been. And it was making her question her decision all over again.

It felt like something out of a fairy tale or rom com, that one person who saw you exactly as you were, saw all your flaws, and who didn’t want to change a damn thing. And when he’d been trying to tell her something, she felt her hopes soaring all over again. When Hana and Maxwell had joined them, and the fragile moment crumbled to pieces in front of her, she was yanked back to reality yet again. But something about tonight felt different, something about Drake felt different tonight. Wanting to chase it, bring back that feeling of potential, that maybe all those nights filled with jokes and cards and whiskey actually had been building to something, she’d done the first thing she could think of to get him to herself again - she asked him to dance.

To her surprise, he’d taken her offered hand right away and only put up a token resistance before letting her tug him onto the dance floor without any grumbling or complaining. It was enough to send her heart soaring to foolish places. Sure, he was unsure and uncomfortable waltzing, but dancing with him at least felt natural. With everyone else, she always had to pretend to be more polite, more poised, more controlled. She would take her toes getting stepped on over having to put on her customer service personality every single time.

Sometimes, it felt like if she could get Drake alone, really and truly alone, without reminders of the court and the palace and Liam around every corner, that maybe things would be different. Maybe he wouldn’t shove her away anytime they got closer. It could be sarcasm and comfort and flirting all the time. But there was no way to erase everything, to feel like it was just the two of them with no one else that mattered.

Hell, he’d just reminded her tonight that fairy tales were best left for children. She knew she was being stupid here, setting herself up for devastation. She should be putting some distance between them and focusing on building a deeper connection with Liam. Indulging in fantasies when it came to Drake was only going to make it harder for her to feel something more than a crush with Liam.

She knew she needed to give that relationship a real chance, but it was hard to let go. How was she supposed to give up the one person here who she didn’t ever have to pretend around? How was it fair that when she finally found someone who could swap stories about neglectful mothers, it was with a guy she was attracted to that she shouldn’t be? It almost felt like a giant middle finger from the universe, to tease her with something that felt so right but that would end up being a mistake in the long run.

Maybe if Drake had really been the asshole he’d started off as, maybe then she would be happier. Because then she wouldn’t have to face the feeling that she was losing something special, this man that seemed to just get her, who she just got in return. She would just be blissfully ignorant, letting things with Liam, someone who was far too gentle and adoring for her judgemental, brash, broken self, progress without her mind and heart wandering to someone else far too often.

But that wasn’t the reality here, and she needed to accept that. It was time to move on from the potential of Drake she’d constructed in her mind. It was just hard to do that when his arm was wrapped around her, his hand resting on her back, holding her close. So for one song, she decided to indulge in the fantasy, that there was a man who wanted her, warts and all. One that really saw her and still somehow decided to stick around. She couldn’t keep pretending forever, but for just this moment, she let herself imagine a different future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The music changed. The moment was over. It was time to face the harsh truth. So Drake took a slow step back. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t ready for this all to end. Liam was going to propose to her. She wasn’t his. It was time to let her go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

He slowly pulled away from her almost as soon as the song ended. The spell of the moment was broken. Riley didn’t know if she was ready for the rest of the night, but she didn’t have much of a choice, so she dropped his hand, plastering on a smile as he awkwardly thanked her for the dance before she threw a quip back about making a gentleman out of him. It was time to let him go.

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[chasingthepoguelife]

Lonely Boys Do Stupid Things Part 2

Lonely boys do stupid things Part 2

 (gif credits to @rafecameron​)

  Summary: Rafe is tired of an already boring summer, constantly being judged by everyone on the island, and is looking for a challenge. When the group is introduced to the new girl hanging out with Kiara, Topper suggests a challenge and Rafe accepts only to be conflicted along the way.

  Author’s: So in this world Rafe is still a bad guy, just not a “I killed a cop and have all these daddy issues” bad, Topper hasn’t developed yet, and also John B hasn’t dragged anyone into his stupid shit and there is a civil ground between kooks and pogues and Ward isn’t a “I love two out my three children and murdered my friend” dad. For reference, I do not support Rafe’s canon character. I’m just blinded by the attraction I feel for him and I love Drew, but will never condone or excuse Rafe’s actions. Also, I’m not writing y/n with many descriptions. I know all types of people might read this and I want to make everyone feel included but I also don’t want to do it the wrong way so I’m leaving a lot of physical features up to the reader’s imagination. I would also accept tips and constructive criticism to be more of an inclusive writer.

 Warning: For part 2 I don’t think there is anything, just a mention of underwear and little yelling from Rafe.

 For reference, Rafe is 19, y/n just turned 18 and she’s figuring out her college plans for the upcoming year.

Tag List: @nxsmss​ @prejudic3​ @spencereidbasis​ @alexandracheers​ @ifilwtmfc​ @billybonesxx​

 “So you’re telling me out of all those guys I met today, you don’t have a thing for a single one of them?” y/n asked.

“Dating here is complicated y/n,” Kie began. “Everyone is so focused on money and status, it’s hard to find anyone real. I used to think John B and I would end up together, but that ended sooner than it began. I kissed Topper one time in the ninth grade, and it was like what I imagine kissing your cousin is like.”

“And what about Rafe?” y/n questioned.

“y/n, no. I know that tone. He may look perfect on the outside, and he may seem like he could give a girl everything she wants but there’s a whole lot of issues and drama that he comes with. Ask around. There’s not 1 girl here he hasn’t screwed over or put in danger. The boy only has feelings and compassion for himself.”

“I always believe that people can change, but if it’s coming from you, I believe that you’re just looking out for me Kie.”

“I promise when you ease more into the island, I have two other guy friends that not only look as good as Rafe, but they won’t drag you down with all their problems.”

“Alright Kie, if I’m not making out with someone soon, it’s really on you if I go looking for Rafe.” Y/n teased.

2 Days Later

“How much you want to bet Kiara already bashed you in front of y/n?” Topper asked.

“She can talk all the shit she wants. I saw the way y/n was staring at me. Guarantee she will be dreaming about me tonight,” Rafe smirked.

“But do you think you’ll even get the chance to talk to her? There’s no way Kie is going to let this happen.”

“Kie can’t be with her 24/7. Lucky for me their houses are 20 minutes apart, and thanks to good old dad and his real estate connections, I already know where she lives.”

“Where are you going man?”

“To put her address in my gps,” Rafe yelled running away.

The ride to the Marigold neighborhood felt like a lifetime to Rafe. He had only ever been here one time as a kid, and even that was a distant memory. It didn’t seem much different than figure eight, except for the fact that he couldn’t even fit his driveway onto some of these properties. To his surprise when the gps said he arrived, he was in front of the last house on the street, probably the largest house he’d seen in the entire neighborhood. One might say that he was a little impressed, but back to being small minded after questioning if all 3 cars in the driveway belong to the family. Rafe parked his car in front of the house, locking it once he got out. Within seconds, he was at y/n’s front door, noting how short the walk is in comparison to his own home. He knocked on the door, waiting for what seemed like forever until the door opened. An older woman resembling y/n answered the door.

“Can I help you son?”

“I’m looking for y/n, did I come to right house?” Rafe asked for effect, knowing very well he was at the right house.

“I wasn’t aware my y/n had made so many friends here already. She should be around somewhere in between all these boxes. Y/n!, please come downstairs,” her mother yelled.

Rafe waited in an awkward silence until he heard foot steps coming down. To say he was looking at a different person was understatement, and had y/n known someone like Rafe was in her living room, well she would be coming down with more than a tshirt and underwear.

Y/n stood there, arms crossed, glaring at her mother. “Really? Couldn’t have bothered to mention that someone else was here?” y/n said grabbing a convenient pair of her dad’s sweatpants on the nearest carboard box.

“In all honesty I didn’t think you’d be putting on a show,” her mother joked.

“What are you doing here Rafe, how did you even know which house we bought?” y/n asked.

“I’m sure Kiara told you, but I have a lot of resources available to me,” Rafe smirked.

“Doesn’t make it any less weird, I’ve met you two days ago.”

“Y/N! Don’t be rude,” her mother said slapping her arm. “You’ve already made one more friend than I have.”

“May I use your restroom?” Rafe asked.

As y/n refused to moved, her mother came back momentarily from showing Rafe where to go.

“10/10 daughter,’ y/n’s mom spoke like she was talking to her best friend.

“Just because he has a nice face and body doesn’t make him a 10 mom, besides, I’ve heard some bad things about him, especially from Kiara,” y/n shared.

Rafe couldn’t help but hear everything from the bathroom. He had needed a moment to cool down after already seeing her half naked after two days, but chose to stay extra to hear more compliments about himself. Topper could’ve at least made this harder by picking a girl he wasn’t physically attracted to.

“Kiara is a lovely girl, but she’s just one person. Sometimes you need to give people the benefit of the doubt “ y/n’s mom said.

Rafe was relieved how much y/n’s mom was on his side, at this point he’d even date her mom just to add some difficulty to this challenge. He was about to join them again in the living room when he heard a louder noise come from the back of the house. A few seconds later, a louder, deeper voice began calling for y/n and her mother.

“Lovely to see two more Marigold residents in these parts,” the older man said.

“Ugh it doesn’t matter where we go you two are such dorks!”

“You should be so luck to find someone half as good as your father young lady.”

Rafe couldn’t help but barf. Relationships make him sick as he’s never a real one in his life, nor did he ever have a good example of one. The only one he could ever consider is the nauseating relationship between his sister and John B. He decided  was going to wait for her father to leave the room. He could not handle anymore jokes.

As her mom left the room to her and her dad, y/n had a feeling a hard conversation was coming.

“How about an update on school kiddo?��

“There’s not much to tell dad, I’m still figuring things out,” y/n shrugged.

“Well maybe had you taken 7 APs instead of 4, you would’ve impressed the schools more.”

4 Aps Rafe thought? He could barley get through 1 and this guy was complaining about not taking 7?

“What does it matter dad, I got A’s in all classes. That’s 4 GPA boosters and 4 college credits. Between that a year off to save, I won’t be needing much from you and mom, you know, after all you’ve done for me,” y/n explained.

“After 18 I didn’t see my father and mother for 5 years until I got a stable job. I didn’t go back to them until I could stand on my own two feet without needing anything from them.”

“The world is different now, and you’re acting like I’m never going to do anything on my own.”

“Well you know kid; you have to rustle up something good by next year or we’re going to have to teach you the hard way. Anyways, you know what you have to do. Tell your mother I’m headed down to the Wreck for some work things. See you later pumpkin.”

Rafe thought his dad was messed up, how could this guy insult and support his kid with every other sentence? He waited until it seemed like it was just y/n out there before coming back.

“Finally, I thought you fell in the toilet or something?” y/n joked, but Rafe could tell she was half joking, half compensating for her father putting her down, something Rafe knows all too well.

“I don’t need to explain to you my bathroom habits,” Rafe joked,

“No, but what you need to explain to me is why after two days you think it’s ok to just show up uninvited, without getting the address from me?”

“So you’re saying there’s a problem?” Rafe teased.

“Let’s see, I met you two days ago, you show up unannounced, intruding, and I know nothing about you except for all the bad things-“ y/n shut her mouth once she realized what she was saying.

“Go on, finish what you were saying. All the bad things…. that Kiara told you? Rafe questioned.

“Well what am I supposed to think, you’re not off to the best start. And I’m supposed to believe that after spending like 5 minutes with me, you just have to get to know me, or let me guess, you can’t stop thinking about me?” y/n said sarcastically.

“You haven’t even given me a chance yet,” Rafe stated.

“Rafe, we both know you’re cute, but I can’t take this on right now. I had hoped to meet someone after moving here, but this is already screaming red flag to me. You should just go.”

“You should know, that just because you’re not a pogue, doesn’t mean you’re worth anything on this island!” Rafe spat before storming out the front door.

Rafe made his way back to the car, in disbelief that he didn’t get anywhere with y/n. Kiara must have told her countless stories to turn her off. Not that there weren’t enough known incidences about Rafe, but everyone deserves another chance.  Considering Rafe believes he was sculpted by the gods and can’t remember the last time he’s ever been rejected; he’s still confused as to why he couldn’t make it work on y/n.

After Rafe left to head back to Figure Eight, y/n went on her own drive to Kie’s house, letting her know she’d be there soon. When she arrived, Kie was on the steps of her house, watching y/n’s face.

“It’s only been 2 days, what have you done now?” Kie questioned.

“This island is like a lifetime movie! I met the guy two days ago and he just shows up to my house in his fancy car sweet talking my mother!!”

“Rafe? What that makes no sense? We would’ve heard something by now if he was interested in you. That’s how he likes to move,” Kie noted.

“Apparently not, he just blitzed me, and caught in my underwear I may add.”

“So then what happened?”

“Don’t get me wrong I thought about. He seems perfect and really hot, as you know. But I keep replaying everything you told me about him, and that’s not something to ignore. He said you were lying about it all and that I should find out for myself. But my gut told me to not go down that road.”

“He’ll get over it y/n, even more so when he sees you on the arm of my friend JJ.”

“Kie you are not already trying to set me up with another outer banks man!”

“Did you not say you were looking to make out with someone soon?” Kie teased.

“Well after Rafe insulted me for not giving him a choice, I might need to reconsider.”

[tillywhim]

A STATEMENT!

This is purely my own opinion and understanding of things. I am happy to be corrected if anything I say is or can be proven to be wrong.

We are in the middle of the biggest global crisis of our lifetimes. It doesn’t matter whether COVID-19 (corona) virus was created in a laboratory or if it was a natural mutation from one species to another (everyone remember H1N1 and Swine flu?). What matters is this disease is real and it is deadly.

As a country, we first went into lockdown midway through March. Businesses shut, schools, colleges and universities closed. Employees were furloughed. We were advised strongly (some say forbidden) from having contact with anyone from outside our homes. We could only go out for essential items and to exercise. It was frustrating for everyone.

I’m not going into the 2nd lockdown, it was basically a “slap on the wrist and go to your room” following what had gone before it.

I’m reading and hearing more and more people saying this virus isn’t real or isn’t as deadly as we’re being told. That it’s “The New World Order” up to their old, nefarious tricks and culling the population of the planet.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I tend to err on the side of caution and trust the science (not the politicians) and the scientists. Due to my illness and disability, I would NOT survive if I caught COVID-19. That is the plain and simple truth. For months now the only people I have seen (apart from hubby) have been my Carer and daughter #1 as they are my support bubble. I’ve not been able to see my parents or my siblings, I’ve not been able to spend time with daughter #2 as she is a Carer for a little girl with foetal alcohol syndrome and therefore at a greater risk if she caught Covid.

The Cambridge’s went on a tour of the UK to thank everyone for what they have been doing during this unprecedented time. It was a whistle stop tour but they handled themselves with aplomb. We got to see Catherine (&William) meet and exchange gifts with Len, the 85 year old cancer patient who is the full time Carer for his wife who has dementia. Yes, Len wasn’t wearing his mask properly but I think we can forgive him. Tell me who wasn’t moved by that meeting? They met with NHS staff and were announced as Joint Patrons of NHS Charities Together (a well deserved patronage for both of them).

The tour was undoubtedly a success, culminating in an evening where all the full-time working members of the BRF came together at Windsor Castle to thank key workers and volunteers for what they have been doing during this crisis.

The whole thing should have been a triumph but, it was marred. Not as many suspected, by Henry and Rachel but by people (including politicians) complaining that the tour broke lockdown rules, people rang, emailed and texted the police demanding the Cambridge’s were arrested and/or fined for this. We are talking not only about a future King and Queen Consort but about the parents of a future King. Is it beyond the realm of possibility that they (and their staff) took and followed every rule, guideline and advice given? I don’t think so.

Then, we get the announcement that a vaccine (one of many being made worldwide) had shown to have a high success rate for immunising people against the illness. The vaccine is being rolled out on a basis of who needs and would benefit from having it most first. A 90 year old lady was one of the first members of the public to have the vaccine. Sadly, 2 NHS workers who had the vaccine reacted badly to it and had anaphylactic reactions to it. They were both treated and are now safe (they were both already allergy sufferers ). What happens? The anti-vaxxers come out in force claiming the vaccine isn’t 100% safe and people shouldn’t be having it. I have news for these people NO VACCINE or DRUG is 100% safe. If it was, they wouldn’t bother putting the leaflets in your medications warning of various side effects that may be caused.

The absolutely stupid and moronic thing I think I’ve noticed in all this is the anti-vaxxers are the ones claiming COVID-19 doesn’t really exist and the ones who were so up in arms about the #RoyalTrainTour.

I’m only giving my opinion, from my perspective. Will I be having the vaccine when it is offered to me? Yes because I will have educated myself as to possible side effects and the choice I make will be an informed one. Sadly, because she had anaphylactic shock as a baby, daughter #2 will not be able to have it.

Whatever you choose to believe about the pandemic, the lockdown rules, the vaccine or anything else, please remember 1 in 1,000. That is the number of people who have died in the UK from COVID-19 so far.

Thank you. (sorry for the long, rambling rant).

[ashspn]

All of my love

*Not my gif* *Major character death*

Dean was pissed. Which when was Dean not pissed. This time he had a good reason. This was the first time that he could have everything he ever wanted, and he got it. He got the love of his life, the beautiful home, the dog, and two kids. The apple pie life. Sam was happy and healthy being with Eileen and becoming the leader of the North American hunters. Dean often told Sam that this was what he was meant to be. He was a natural-born leader. Sam would often call begging for him to come back to the team. Sam loved to try to seduce him with the monster of the week, but he always says no. After his brush with death, even though he had experienced that feeling way too many times and never felt anything of it, that last time felt different for him. It felt real until the paramedics showed up and pumped him with so much medicine and fluids that he didn’t even ask what was in most of the needles. To tell you the truth that time he might have actually felt ready to go. Life at that point in time wasn’t great with Cas gone, Jack being God and Sam had Eileen. He was feeling hopeless. All he knew was he was thankful that Sam told him to shut up about letting him go and called 911. When he woke up in his bed after hours of surgery, he expected life to be the same. It wasn’t because he had gorgeous blue eyes staring back at him and holding his hands waiting for him to wake up.

“Dean!” Cas jumped up to run and grab the rest of the family, but Dean squeezed his hand for him to stay. Cas stopped looking down at the unbreakable man. He hated seeing him looking like this because it reminded him of a time that seemed like a lifetime ago when Dean was forced to take on Alistair all because he asked him to. Cas looked back at the door knowing Sam would want to know right away but then he looked down at Dean and saw the haunting in his eyes. Cas sat back down allowing Dean a moment to collect his thoughts before he dragged everyone in.

5 years prior

“Cas.” Dean whispered. His voice was hoarse, and his throat was so dry. Everything hurt but more importantly his back where the nail shoved right through.

“Cas, how are you even here man? I saw you get taken. Jack said it wasn’t possible to bring you back.” Cas smiled down at him. Dean scrunched up his face knowing something was different. Something was off about Cas.

“We found a loophole. No more grace means I’m human and humans don’t go to the empty.” Dean dropped Cas’s hand in shock. Cas was an angel. That was who he was. Dean wouldn’t have cared anyway if he had powers or not but the thought of Cas giving up who he always been was hard for Dean to wrap his head around. Dean didn’t know if he could give up being a hunter. That was who he was.

“Cas are you sure you wanted to do that. Are you okay with being a human?” Cas gave him a soft look.

“Dean, all I wanted was to be able to come home. Now I can enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again.” Dean chuckled but then winced in pain. Cas came forward wanted so badly to be able to heal him. That was one thing Cas missed about being an angel. When Jack pulled him out the first thing Jack said was Dean was hurt. Cas didn’t care about anything else. He needed to get to Dean. Jack zapped Cas into the waiting room right as they were wheeling Dean into surgery. His breathing was shallow, and he was covered in so much blood. Cas tried placing a hand on Dean to heal him, but nothing worked. Cas knew that but that meant it didn’t hurt any less. Then he was pushed aside by a doctor left alone until Sam came in.

“I’m fine,” Dean waved him off so not to worry. “Well, I’m glad you’re back buddy. Where’s Sam?”

Present-day

Dean paced the bunker library trying to process what Sam was trying to tell him. All he heard was white noise. “Sam, stop! What do you mean that my daughter and my husband are missing? This hunt was supposed to be a milk run.” Dean turned to leave to head towards the weapons room to get every weapon known to man to save his family. Sam ran after him trying to make him stop and listen to him, but Sam knew he lost Dean a long time ago when he said Claire’s GPS was disconnected and Cas’s phone wasn’t answering. Claire and Cas had gone out on a hunt against a werewolf. It was a very simple hunt that both of them had dealt with a million times. At the end of the day, Claire could have done it by herself and been home in time for dinner. Cas insisted to go with her saying he missed her and wouldn’t mind helping her with this case. He even dug his old trench coat out for his FBI uniform. All that was running through Dean’s mind was how could this happened. The nightmares were supposed to be over.

“Dean, will you just listen before you go guns a-blazing.” Dean whipped around with fire in his eyes.

“I’ve been listening Sam. It sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me! Either you come with me and help or get out of my way.” Dean began gathering every silver item they had in the weapons room not caring if he looked crazy to Sam or not.

“Dean, you haven’t been on a hunt in five years so can you please slow down so we can think about what to do.” Sam snatched the duffel bag out of Dean’s hands so that Dean would finally listen to him.

“What are you trying to say I’m not capable to deal with a werewolf. That I’m rusty just because I chose to retire. That doesn’t mean I still don’t know what I’m doing. I’m still one of the best damn hunters out there.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Trust me no one could replace THE Dean Winchester besides THE Claire Winchester. So, yes, I’m worried too. I was the one that assigned Claire the case after all because I knew she could have done it. Clearly, we don’t know what we are getting ourselves into if both her and Cas are in trouble.” Dean took the duffle bag taking a deep breath. He knew Sam was right but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared.

“Ahhhh!” Cas blinked his eyes open at the sound of his daughter screaming out in pain. Dizziness was washing over him making it hard to concentrate where she was or where he was. The room was dark with only a flicking light bulb dangling from the ceiling. He could feel his hands and feet were bound by rope to a pole and he could see he was the only one there.

“Ahhh!” Another scream echoed throughout the house. Cas tried to pull his limbs free with no success. He could feel a nail was poking out. He rubbed his wrists up and down feeling the binds loosening with each swipe until finally, his hands were free. He ripped the bounds from his ankles, beginning to run to the door. His main priority was to find Claire and get out. He pulled his phone out dialing the only number he ever needed in the world.

The road felt long and bleak. Dean never would have said he loved life on the road, but he also didn’t hate it as much as he did now. The road was home once upon a time but now it felt like a burden. Home was the log cabin with the lake in the back. He and Castiel often found themselves on the dock fishing for hours even though Cas often asked why Dean found it relaxing to fish when he never caught anything. Dean smiled to himself missing his angel. His smile grew wider as he thought about how Claire and Jack often came to visit too. Both grown and out of the house, but Sundays were for the family after all. Dean cooking on the grill and Cas baking a pie in the kitchen while Jack and Claire fight like kids over the remote control. Dean knew that his kids' lives were never going to be normal and they never were but at least that one day of the week Claire and Jack were able to be normal people.

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He reached down to grab his phone out of his pocket not even bothering to look at the name.

“Dean, I’m in a house off of road spring flower. Claire is here but she’s hurt but I’m not sure where she is. Dean, I am so sorry. I was supposed to protect her.” Dean was trying to wrap his head around what was happening. Cas. Cas was okay and alive. Claire was too.

“Cas wait slow down. Tell me exactly where you are. I am driving to you now.” Cas let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Dean’s voice steadies him and made him more focused. As he kept running trying to find where his daughter was; he tried to give Dean as much detail as he could remember but most of it was foggy.

“I’m sorry Dean, everything is still scrambled. It might have been white. I don’t know.” Cas huffed.

“Buddy, it’s okay. Just stay on the line until I get there. Everything will be okay.” Dean reassured. Cas trudged forward seeing all of the horrors that were laid around him. Bloodstained the walls and flesh littered the floor. He sucked in a breath trying really hard not to get nauseous.

“Hey, how did you escape from your bounds?” Cas stopped in his tracks to face a werewolf or that was what he thought. The monster was like a large man, but his teeth were pointy like a vamps’, but his eyes shone like a werewolf. Cas pulled out a silver blade just in time to cut the monster as he swung at his head. The creature jumped back with a yelp but the spot on his arm didn’t burn like it should if he was a werewolf.

“Where’s my daughter, you assbutt?” Cas exclaimed.

“Cas, Cas what’s going on? Who’s there?” Dean shook with fear. He just got Cas back he didn’t want to think what would happen if he died and he wasn’t there to save him. “Cas, hold on and don’t do anything stupid.” All Dean could hear on the other end was fighting and a lot of grunting. It didn’t sound good. Dean pushed the car harder even though she was going as hard as she could already. Almost there he thought. Almost there.

“Cas!” Dean shouted one last time as the line went dead. “Son of a bitch!” Sam looked over at him with concern, but Dean couldn’t focus on Sam’s worrying about him, he needed to save his family.

Every hit Cas got in the monster got three times the amount. All he could hear was a distant sound of Dean’s voice which was the only thing keeping him up. His vision was blurred and knew he might have a couple of broken ribs but he kept pushing. Cas swung one more time missing completely. Then the next thing he knew he felt a fist connect to his skull and the world went black.

“Dean, slow down. You can’t save them if we are both dead.” Sam braced on for dear life as Dean whipped the car around a curve sending the tires to screech. Dean didn’t listen he kept trucking forward. All he could think was five more miles, three more miles, one more mile until he slammed his breaks to find them in front of the house. Dean jumped out running to the trunk grabbing everything he could carry that wouldn’t slow him down. Sam wasn’t too far trying to get him to slow down.

“Wait, we need a plan before we go in there and get ourselves killed or Cas and Claire.” Dean glared at him. He had a plan to kill all of those sons of a bitches and get his husband and daughter out safely. “Dean, that’s not a plan that’s suicide.”

“And they are in there hurt or dead by now because I wasn’t there to protect them and the longer, we sit out here arguing the greater the chances we have of finding them dead. Let’s go because it’s only you and me. Jack’s not answering which next time I see him I’m going to ground him.” That was what Dean had on the subject.

Dean looked around the house trying to focus himself, so he didn’t get sick. He dealt with a lot in his life but nothing would have prepared him for the gore that was in this house. He kept walking until he came upon a broken phone. Cas’s phone. He picked it up and showed Sam. Sam nodded understanding they must be close.

“Dean, go find Cas and I will look for Claire.” Dean looked down at the phone and shook his head no. Sam gave him a perplexed look of confusion. Any other day Dean would be the first one on the finding Cas team even before they were in a couple. What changed?

“Cas and I had a deal that if this ever went down. Whichever one of his was kidnapped along with Claire or Jack we would forget about the other and find them first. You go get Cas. I got Claire.” Sam nodded and understood.

“Such a pretty girl. You know you would be a nice trophy to keep with my others.” Claire breathed heavily glaring at her captive. She spat at him landing it right below his left eye. He wiped it off giving her a grim smile. “Now that isn’t very lady-like, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’m no lady and I ain’t your sweetheart either you piece of shit.” She growled. He gripped her jaw bringing her face real close. All she could smell was the rotting flesh from his last meal. She tried to turn away, but he pulled her back to face him.

“That is no way to speak to your master. Apologize or you get burned again.” She kept her mouth shut without breaking eye contact. “Fine, here you go sweetheart.” He stabbed the hot iron once again releasing a scream from her throat. The pain made her want to blackout. All she saw was the sheering pain of white behind her eyelids as he kept pressing harder.

“Hey, asshole. Get your grimy hands off of my daughter.” The creature pulled away to turn around to see the Dean Winchester. The man they told stories about to scare monster children to bed. This man was supposed to be dead. The monster lunge at Dean but didn’t get far before he shot off three rounds. He only needed one but the other two were for what he did to his daughter. Dean put the gun away and ran over to Claire. He found she was unconscious. He tried to wake her up with a couple of shakes, calling her name out.

“Come on, baby girl, wake up. Please we got to go and find your pops.” Finally, he could see her blue eyes blink open. She smiled when she realized who was there to rescue her.

“Sam is looking for him. I talked to him thirty minutes ago before he was taken again. Come on we need to get you out of here.” Claire tried to protest, wanting to stay and find her pops. Dean didn’t listen and half carried her out of the doorway towards the exit.

“Dad.” Dean pulled her close letting the tears he didn’t realize he was holding in escape down his face. She tried to hug him, but she was too weak to raise her arms.

“Dad, where’s pop?” Dean shush her and ran a hand down her hair trying to soothe her.

Sam slowly made his way down the steps towards the basement making sure to be careful not to make a sound. So far so good, but he feared that as he made his way farther down, he would find something he didn’t want. He did. He found Cas bloody and bruised; chained to the ground passed out.

“Cas get up. Dean is not going to be happy about this.” Sam leaned down to haul his brother-in-law up and tried to carry him up the steps until Cas woke up trying to swing at him.

“Get your hands off of me you monster.” Sam grabbed his hands to stop him from hurting himself even more.

“Stop, it’s me, Sam. I’m taking you home.” Cas blinked recognizing the familiar figure.

“Where’s Dean?” He asked.

“He went to find Claire. We are going to meet him at the Impala.” Cas stopped in his tracks with panic in his eyes. “Cas, what’s wrong.”

“We need to get to Dean right now.” Cas broke free from Sam’s grasp, trying to run up the steps before his legs gave out from him.

“Cas, Dean will be fine besides you can’t help him much when you can barely stand.” Cas tried to haul himself up, but Sam came over to help him instead.

“You don’t understand. These are not monsters we have ever face before shooting them doesn’t kill them, silver doesn’t hurt them, nor does holy water. I have no clue what we are facing.” Cas exclaims. Sam took hold of Cas’s arm trying to steady him once again to help him up the stairs. Sam knew that Dean who kill him if he tried to divert from the plan of saving Cas. He just worried about getting them to the car.

After a few feet of walking, Claire felt better. She wasn’t one hundred percent but at least she wasn’t on the verge of passing out again. That didn’t convince Dean though. He kept trying to steal quick glances at her to make sure she was okay.

“Dad, I’m fine. Does everything hurt yes but nothing but a little whisky and a movie night won’t heal? Please stop worrying and keep your eyes peel. These monsters are unique. They are nothing we have ever seen before. I don’t even think they are in the lore.” Dean nodded trying to focus on the mission.

“You know I will never stop worrying about you or your brother. Even if he might be God.” Claire rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Hey, I know I’ve told you this one too many times, but I wasn’t supposed to have this. I wasn’t supposed to have you two and your father be in my life. I wasn’t supposed to have a family. I was destined to die at twenty-five by the hands of a creature.” Claire smiled at him because she felt the same way. Dean pulled her in for a side hug when he pulled away, he saw the love of his life staring at him.

“Pops!” Claire exclaimed running to hug him. Cas prepared for the embrace and wrapped his arms around her not wanting to let go. His little girl was safe and didn’t look as hurt as he thought she was going to be. As he was hugging her Cas looked up to see his husband smile back at him with tears forming in his eyes. Cas smiled back slowly moving towards Dean after Claire pulled back.

“Cas,” Dean whispered taking in how badly hurt his love was. Dean swore that after this hunt he was going to convince Cas to hang it up. No more hunts, no more missions. Just living the quiet life and helping through the use of the home. Dean didn’t think he could go through this one more time, but he also said that last time they were in this situation.

“Dean.” Dean pulled Cas in for a gentle kiss leading into a hug. Cas found himself sink into the embrace wanting to rest in the warmth of Dean’s arms. Their reunion was cut short by Claire’s shout of a lookout. Dean turned around to see the monster he had killed or well he thought had killed was still up and moving with no visible wounds. What the hell he thought. He shoved Cas behind him and ready his weapon in hand. How was this bastard still alive? Dean swung his knife at him, and the thing dodged each swing.

“Dad, be careful,” Claire screamed.

“Sam! Get them out of here now.” Dean yelled trying to fight off the monster, but each attack didn’t prevail. It was like this thing was indestructible. Claire tried to push forward but Cas caught her in his arms pulling her back.

“No, we are not leaving without you,” Claire exclaimed. Dean turned to smile at her.

“Go baby girl. I will be right behind you.” Then the world stood still. Dean looked down to see the blade go right through his chest and be pulled out. Dean looked up at his family as he fell to his knees.

“Nooo!” Claire screamed running to him kneeling down to pull him into her arms.

“Dean!” Sam and Cas shouted. Sam pulled out his machete and cut the creature's head clean off. Cas stood in place not able to process what just happen. Claire sobbed in his chest and he shushed her trying to soothe her till his final breath.

“No, no. You can’t die. Not yet. Dad, I love you too much. Please don’t leave me” Claire cried. Dean rubbed a hand down her hair.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Claire, it’s okay sweetheart.” Dean whispered.

“It’s not fair. I can’t lose you too.” Cas came behind her rubbing her back as he looked down at the man that couldn’t die.

“I know, darling. You made my life better. You all made me so happy. Tell your brother I love him.” Dean’s breath hitch and his hand that was in Claire’s hair fell to his side. The great Dean Winchester was dead.

Claire sobbed screaming, begging for him to hold on. “Jack! Where are you? Jack!”

Sam held Claire as Cas mustered the strength to wrap Dean’s body in cloth. Sam volunteered to do it, but Cas said he needed to. He needed to say his goodbyes alone. Sam understood because Dean said the same thing when they burned Cas so many years ago. As they waited outside, they saw a figure come towards them.

“Jack?” Jack came towards them looking off. Claire and Sam couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, but they could tell something was up. “Jack, we have been praying for you. Where have you been?” Claire hissed not able to raise her voice from a whisper.

“I’m sorry angel radio is turned off. I had no way to communicate with anybody. They had me locked away.” Jack said.

“Who had you locked away? What happened Jack?” Sam asked. Jack took a deep breath without a pause to look around to notice his fathers were missing.

“The angels. They have begun to rebel. They don’t like that I have chosen to take a hands-off approach. They believe I should step into people's lives but I have no desire to. Where are my fathers?” Sam and Claire gave him a sad look. “What? What’s wrong?” Claire came towards him trying to break the news as gently as she could.

“Dad’s dead,” Claire said. Jack gave her a perplexed look out of disbelief. His dad was dead. He knew death wasn’t final for them. He could go see Dean in heaven, but it wasn’t the same. No more Sunday night dinners with all of them at the cabin. Dean wouldn’t be able to take him fishing down at their lake. Everything in heaven was very artificial and with what was going on in heaven he didn’t know how much longer heaven would stand.

“I wasn’t here to save him. I’m so sorry. I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Claire pulled him into a hug as he kept repeating that he didn’t get to say goodbye.

Cas stared at the lifeless body that once held the spirit of the man that could have put the fear into any man, monster, or creature. That could have put a smile on anyone’s face with his child-like wonder. The man that had finally defeated all of his demons. The man that was supposed to live the rest of his life easy and happy till he was old and gray. The man that fell in love with a fallen angel and made that angel feel loved for being who he was.

Cas pulled the sheet over Dean’s face. Most days he would blink back the tears but today he let each one fall slowly. He gentle tied each rope around his beloved's body taking his time, not ready to say goodbye.

“Dean Winchester.” Cas closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “The man, the myth, the legend. I love you.” Cas tied the last knot and went out to grab Sam to help him carry his husband’s body to the pyre. As they carried him, he could see his children console each other. Claire holding Jack as they both wept watching their father’s body being placed on top. A signal of a final goodbye. Cas walked over to them wrapping them both into his arms as they watch the whole thing go up in flames. Cas held his children tight knowing they had a lot to figure out. Like what the hell was going on with Jack, where did those monsters come from, and to process the thought for the first time Dean was actually gone with no way back.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Peter Parker x Reader- Still Alive, Barely Breathing

I know it’s a kinda old song but could you please do “breakeven - the script” for Penis Parker [sorry I mean Peter] x y/n but they feel the same if that makes sense ? Ily

A/N: Ngl, this song is my absolute shit so no worries! Poor penis parker.  

Peter watched as you walked down the hall of the tower with your head held high and your eyes on everything but him. His heart clenched painfully but he didn’t let it show. You looked good. Hell, you looked great. It had been months since he’d given you up yet it didn’t hurt any less than it had when he had given your love away as you begged him with tears in your eyes to stay. 

There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t want to go back and do just that. 

He followed after you, knowing you were going to a meeting with the rest of the Avengers. He had to be there too but he wasn’t sure he could handle being around you for longer than five minutes without turning into a mess and doing something stupid. 

If anyone had ever told him in high school that after he had experienced more than a lifetime of pain and struggle as an Avenger that the toughest thing he would ever go through was a breakup, he wouldn’t have believed them. Yet high school was a distant, but fond, memory and with age came understanding. No matter what he had faced, nothing seemed to compare to losing you. 

He wanted to go back in time, to your first date, to your last one, to any other in between. He wanted to go back to the lazy mornings spent in bed when you both had a day off and the exhausting nights when you’d just arrived back from a mission, too tired to do more than shower and collapse on the sheets with a half asleep, “love you, goodnight,” muttered against your pillow. Peter wanted to go back in time and slap himself silly for thinking he could be without you. That it was somehow a better decision to be parted than together. 

“Pete?” Came a voice and a sharp nudge to his shoulder. He looked up from the seat he had placed himself in not five minutes ago, quickly getting lost in his thoughts that seemed to never stop. Everyone’s eyes were on him, even yours. 

He blushed, swallowing the lump in his throat as he realized he had been clicking his pen incessantly. “S-sorry,” Peter bashfully apologized. He watched you though, hoping somehow his menial apology would reach you. Sorry for clicking my pen, sorry for breaking your heart. 

Groaning internally, he set his pen down. Yeah, because the way he had pushed you away was equivalent to a fucking pen. The Avengers went on, speaking of reports and victories and losses, making plans and scrapping others. You seemed to be listening intently, not phased by Peter’s presence at all. 

He’d give an arm and a leg to just have you look at him again like you once had. He wished that an apology could fix things even if he knew they couldn’t. You would never take him back, he knew it. You were infinitely stronger than he’d ever been. 

You must hate him. 

--

You hated him. You thought bitterly as you glared down at the reports in your hands. You hated him so much, because if you didn’t you would love him and that was a far worse alternative. You had loved Peter Parker but look where that had landed you. You were miserable, not being able to sleep even as the days on the calendar ran past you mockingly. 

He was clicking his pen again, his bottom lip getting bothered at until it was red in between his teeth. You couldn’t help but peer up at him as he clicked it several more times in not as many seconds. First he had drawn Bucky’s eye, the soldier sending him an irritated glance he didn’t even notice. Then, Natasha was looking simply because she was tired of Tony’s voice and the pen seemed preferable. Soon, the whole room as staring. 

It was clear Peter was in his head and you couldn’t help but wonder about what. You knew he had been looking at you today. You had felt his eyes on you as you had walked down the hall, swearing that you wouldn’t spare him a glance. If you did, he’d know how weak you were. That after all he’d put you through you just wanted to be back beside him. Was it so wrong to hope that you were what was causing him to be in such a distracted state? 

You nearly laughed as Tony called his name and he blushed in embarrassment. He looked like a high school kid still, looking seventeen rather than the twenty-two year old that had crushed your heart. 

“S-sorry,” He’d mumbled and you had to look away when his eyes were glued to your own. Like one stuttered sorry could take away all the pain you’d felt. 

You’d give anything to have him back and he had no fucking clue. Or maybe he did and that was just the last thing he wanted, you. It had seemed so easy for him to end things, end the perfect years you had spent loving one another. Not perfect because you hadn’t fought, because you had, but perfect because you had always come out stronger. You wanted to be strong again, you wanted to be strong with Peter again. He was your rock and you were sinking without him to hold onto. 

Peter was an amazing man, a perfect hero, and absolutely blind. 

If only he would seek you out first, because if you were being honest with yourself, a stupid and stuttered sorry was all you needed. It was all you needed to feel like you could breath again and think again without crying. 

Living in the same place as your ex wasn’t easy. His room was across from yours and you blessed Tony in your prayers to whatever god for having noise cancelling walls throughout the entire tower so the man you loved couldn’t hear you at all hours of the night listening to idiotic, depressing songs and throwing gifts from him against the wall like it was your first breakup. 

--

Please come back to me, I want you back.  Peter begged, drowning in his drink that night as it helped assuage the hole that had opened up in his chest in replacement of his lost happiness. It wasn’t a perfect replacement because as soon as the small buzz wore off he was back to feeling like he was withering away. Only you could fill that hole. 

Please ask me to come back to you, tell me you want me back. You cried into your pillow, unable to sleep without his familiar arms around you. You tugged your weighted blanket tighter around your shoulders and shut your eyes tight, pretending that it was him comforting you instead. It was no use, you realized as the clock ticked by until it was four am and you still had yet to rest. Only he could fill that hole. 

[vaire-gwir]

Some Cat and Wolf fanfic I had in mind pt.4

I wanted to write why Aiden didn’t kill humans anymore, so here it is, I tried. At least it can’t be worse than that horrible attempt at smut, right? Right? 

Everytime I think I’m finished with this I get new ideas and I have to write them or they keep me up at night. There is plot if you squint, still not canon, but as always, I hope it makes sense and you like it <3 

Edit: Sorry I forgot the title, you wouldn’t believe how stupid I am. 

***

Alps were a bit of a pain in the ass to kill, just like every other vampire. Tricky, loud, and cunning things they were, not incredibly dangerous but granted to give you a good rattle and one hell of a headache. Years ago, he shared his first kiss with Aiden after they cleaned a nest and now he thinks about it every time he's disposing of one. It's weird, cause who would think of sharing a first kiss in front of a pile of dead vampires, but it was one of his best memories.

Then again, the first time he told Aiden he loved him, the Cat was almost dead in a grimy cave, covered in blood, and Lambert was panicking cause the gash under his ribs was bad enough that no potion in the world would buy him the time to find a healer.

Toussaint didn't disappoint him: three days after arriving in Beauclair and he was already waiting for 200 easy crowns. The prospect of payment should be enough to lighten his mood, but his mind is elsewhere, namely on the black cat running around the garden he saw last night before entering the crypt where the Alp was praying on ladies and princesses. Another cat, another pair of stunning green eyes, another painful twist in his heart. He even asked the guard currently stationed outside about it and the idiot said there were no cats on the property, something about ruining the lawns or whatever, as if Lambert didn't see the animal with his own eyes.

It was the second beast with disturbingly familiar green eyes that he saw, and it's two cats more than what he had seen in months. Lambert wasn't even sure if he was hallucinating or if the boy was making fun of him when he said there were no cats. Maybe both. Is this what happens to people that go mad, they start seeing things, they hear voices, and next they're wandering in villages alone at night muttering nonsenses? 

Is this what is going to happen to him, he'll start seeing cats with green eyes everywhere and people will pity him? He was already hearing voices in his dreams, this was just one step further toward insanity, and the path to get there looked suspiciously short.

Lambert picks himself and his headache up from the tomb and walks to the marble arch covering the entrance of the crypt, where an over-enthusiastic guard is waiting for him, hopefully with his money.

"So, is the beast dead? You must have been very brave!" Lambert would laugh if his bones weren't aching so much. He knows that look: he's too young to know that what witchers do has nothing to do with bravery. Even the night before with all his questions he made the job sound fascinating and charming, probably someone didn't explain to him the difference between Witchers and knights in shining armor. He was hoping to see a hero but all he got was a dusty, cranky and hallucinating witcher with the beginning of a headache throbbing in his skull. Not exactly the heroic stuff fairytales are made of. There was nothing charming about this life.

Lambert ignores the voice and grits his teeth at the sudden burst of light and sound that overwhelms him as soon as he steps onto the paved path that leads to the house. Being subjected to the creature's horrible shrieks and screeches for half of the night has his nerves fried and now everything is too loud and too close even if it's barely past dawn. He wants to hear nothing but blessed silence for the entire day or he's going to seriously hurt someone.

"I'm curious, have you been here before?" Lambert starts moving in the general direction of the mansion chasing the promise of quiet and the soldier scrambles after him. He's still staring expectantly, as if he thinks he's owed something.

It annoys him, that for one reason or the other people are gawking all the fucking time. He learned to disregard it with experience but he never fully discovered how to ignore the stares. His brothers get them too, and he knows for a fact that it often bothers Eskel, but for reasons unknown to him, Geralt never seems to give a fuck. He's slightly jealous of that talent. He'll see them next winter if he's not completely out of his mind by then.

When they finally leave behind the crypt where he just killed the Alp, Lambert has regained enough presence of mind to check the garden again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the black cat he saw earlier but it's like the feline has disappeared from the face of the earth. 

The luxurious garden that surrounds the old house is perfectly still, the gardeners are not at work yet, the only note is the faint buzzing of birds. He tries to catch any sound or scent resembling the one he felt before but it's like the cat was never here. Probably he wasn't. What if there was no cat at all and his mind was just playing more tricks on him? He's not sure Witchers can go insane, he can't recall any lore on mad witchers, but maybe he'll be the first one, just his usual luck. He tunes out the noises around him, trying to detect a trail of the animal when the voice of the guard breaks his concentration again: "You have been here before, haven't you?"

Regular people seemed to have a hard time shutting up, he should know this after an entire winter with Geralt's bard, the Gods know he never kept quiet for more than 10 minutes unless he was sleeping. Maybe he even talked in his sleep, go figure. It's not like he asked Geralt. 

"I've been everywhere. Listen, I'll take what I'm owed and leave. Got things to do." Lambert answers this time just to make him shut up. No one needs to know that the things he has to do include tracking down a disappearing black cat. That is if there was one at all.

"Oh, of course, you must be very busy. Here it is, though I think my Lord wanted to see you tonight, throw a feast for the Court, but if you insist you can't stay it's better to..." "I can't." Lambert takes the velvety pouch and stuffs it in his pack, eager to put some distance between himself and the rambling man before him. He knows all about feasts in Beauclair, he suffered through them enough for a couple of lifetimes already. 

He's about to turn away when the guard exclaims: "Wait, I remember! You were working for Lord Launfal with the other Witcher, green eyes, very pretty thing, if I say so myself, you..." He makes a pitiful weak noise as he doubles over himself, words dying upon his lips as blood trickles from them. Lambert is on him in a second and pins him to the nearest wall, he's not thinking about anything except that he wants to hurt him. Before he knows, he's hitting him again and again, driven by some fucked up instinct kicking in cause this idiot is talking about his best friend and he has no right to do so, especially not in that way. He doesn't get away with describing the best person in his life as a pretty thing, not in front of him, not like that.

"Shut your damn mouth, you don't fucking know what you're talking about!" He can hear the faint sound of a bone breaking over the boy crying "Please," and "Stop," and spares a look at the bloody mess he made of his face. He lets go of him as if he's been burned and he sees the guard collapsing to the ground. He fucked up. 

He feels like his mind is swimming and he can't focus on anything but the blood on his hands. He stares at the unconscious form slumped against the wall and takes a step back, streaks of red marking the gray stone. Lambert knows he went too far. His hands moved of their own accord when he realized that man was talking about Aiden. A pretty thing, he said. Lambert can't tell why those words were so painful, but it felt like pouring salt into an open wound. 

Of all people in the fucking Continent he had to run into someone that remembered him, of course, he had to meet a guard that was here the last time he was in Toussaint with Aiden, cause apparently the universe, chaos and the Gods were having a field day of messing with him. Again.

He spares one more glance to the guard just to make sure he's still breathing, collects what he's owed and leaves in haste. When the boy wakes up and tells everyone what happened Lambert knows he won't be spared. He almost killed that stupid boy, not much he can do about it now. He just wanted him to shut up and stop talking about Aiden, the fucker didn't even remember his name. 

He's past the iron gates when he finally manages to stop his hands from shaking. It scares him how dangerously good it felt for a couple of minutes to make the man shut up, it scares him to the point he just wants to forget it happened. For a short time, he felt like he had complete control over something, and that was rare for him. He enjoyed being in charge, knowing that whether that man lived or died was in his hands, it was like playing God and winning. It was like having a choice.

He may have a couple of hours before someone decides to hunt him down, which is plenty of time to find work. Before taking the Alp contract Lambert overheard in a tavern not too far from the market about an archespores problem in the valley where a certain Lord keeps his precious vineyards. With a little bit of luck he can go back to the main square and someone will point him in the general direction of this new Lord's palace. He just needs a few hours, and then he'll have the perfect excuse to stay out of Beauclair for a while.

***

Lambert prefers the nights when sleep eludes him, they're more peaceful than the ones filled with ghosts and blood, or as close to peaceful as he can get. He was never very good at meditating like his brothers, something about how his stupid brain would not shut up long enough for him to fall into a proper state of reverie. Both Eskel and Geralt never had any problem with that, he had seen Geralt kneeling in the same spot without moving until morning, absolutely unbothered by anything that happened around him, as if he was in his own world. 

In a patient attempt to help him, Eskel told him once that meditation works better if you try to recall a state of peace or calm you already experienced and lose yourself in it. Peace and calm was not something Lambert ever experienced, at least not back then. Not before Aiden.

The room he's currently occupying is surprisingly comfortable, he even had a bath, but his brain still refuses to relax. Finding his next contract proved a little more complicated than he expected, he wandered around the narrow streets for a good while before arriving at the indicated house, growing more anxious by the hour, expecting someone to chase him down at any turn of the road. Luckily the man he found outside a heavily guarded black gate was the old farmer in charge of the orchard, and he was as eager as him to go back to the valley. 

Lambert joined him on the trip, but he instantly disliked the place: whoever needed that much security was not just a simple vineyards owner. Thank Gods the old man was not the chatty type, and they reached the old castle in silence just before nightfall. When they arrived the farmer pointed to a small house next to the main castle, told him to find an empty room and disappeared immediately after. Lambert was grateful for the silence.

He washed the blood and the dust out of his clothes but he couldn't wash the feeling of it from his hands, his ears still ringing with the sound of some bone cracking as he hit that stupid man just for talking about Aiden. 

Lambert feels weary and worn but it's not because of the vampire last night. It's not the monsters that tire him: killing is easy, but the rest, traveling, talking, living and functioning in a world where he has no place, it all leaves him drained, that type of bone-aching exhaustion that's beyond physical, it keeps you awake even if you're spent and it gnaws away at your nerves.

He still can't figure out why Aiden would go after (possibly) two griffins all on his own, the Cat was careless and a bit reckless but not completely stupid. He was pretty smart about his work, he had to be, all things considered. Aiden was the one that at the beginning insisted on how they should stick together just because some jobs were easier that way. 

Besides, he was supposed to spend the last week before spring traveling north with the Caravan. There was no deep sympathy between Aiden and most of the other Cats, cause many were not particularly pleased with his decision to stop taking contracts on humans, but traveling together was still supposed to be safer. Lambert tried for days to put the pieces together but the more time he spends thinking about it, the less everything makes sense: Karadin told him he was there when it happened, but he finds it hard to believe he killed the two monsters all on his own. 

Lambert remembers one winter Eskel and Coën went off to fight a pair of griffins in the mountains and they came back three days later, bloody and with a good amount of soon-to-be-scars that needed to be patched up immediately, a broken shoulder (Eskel) and four cracked ribs (Coën). He had seen what griffins can do to experienced Witchers, there was no way a Cat the same age as him disposed of two monsters like that without any serious injuries. He even had time to take the medallion! And if it was not just the two of them, how did Aiden sustain wounds that couldn't be fixed by two or three other witchers for the short time it took to get to a healer? Griffins were only dangerous to humans when they ventured past the mountains and closer to the villages, which meant they were not too far from the possibility of getting help.

His brain keeps churning an explanation, keeps conjuring up different scenarios but nothing he can think of leads to Aiden's death.

Lambert knows Aiden killed people too, but most importantly he knows why he stopped. They both found out very early in their relationship that confessing things in the dark, naked and hidden by the blankets, worked for them. They could say whatever was on their mind and come morning things were still fine between them, they could look at each other's in the eyes without shame, cause things said in the dark were like spirits disappearing with the sun, they couldn't hurt them anymore. The ghosts of their pasts and their fears had been there, and now they were gone, chased away with burning lips and soft touches. It was during one of those nights that Aiden explained why he couldn't kill humans anymore.

They were back at the inn after killing a striga but two innocents died and Lambert knows Aiden blamed himself, he could feel how shaken he was in the way his kisses were almost too harsh and he was tearing away at their clothes. Aiden tastes of something almost-burnt when he's angry, but much later, when Lambert hides his face in the crook of his shoulder, sore in all the right way even if he'll never admit out loud that Aiden fucks him even better when he's like that cause he's less gentle, the taste is gone, and only the honey remains. That's when he can start talking.

The Cat told him that he was fine with being considered a monster by everyone else as long as he didn't feel like that. He was just doing his job and it was not his fault people were too judgemental and prudish to accept that, it's not like he asked for a mage to play with mutagens and mess up his blood. He woke up one day outside of Stygga and he was too young to have any memories of how he arrived there. 

He didn't remember his family, or where he was born, his first memories were of the Cat School, there was nothing before that. He liked to say he had no past, but everyone has it, and they're usually running away from it. And no future too, cause there were not many options for a witcher. Still, not his fault the same people he worked for, the same ones that begged him to get rid of a monster or paid him handsomely for killing a problematic cousin, were also the first ones to throw stones at him or ask a Lord to imprison him cause he was a danger for the town. Not so much of a danger when they needed him for their dirty deeds. But people were quick to forget and even quicker to point their fingers, and after so long Aiden couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. 

He didn't feel like a monster just because they said so. But he certainly felt like a monster for killing innocents. He was taking away their choice just like a mage took away his. He was no better than the people he despised so much.

It all started when he was sent to kill Lord Darnay cause his own family decided he was no suitable successor to the name and heritage they represented. Aiden was presented with 1000 crowns to get rid of the unwanted heir, and he was not in the position to refuse. His last contracts were unsuccessful, he had run out of money weeks before arriving in town and now even his potions were running low. It should have been an easy job, kill a dumb Lord who probably never hold a sword in his life. It should have been easy, but that's not what happened.

Right after entering the royal chamber, Aiden faced a wide-eyed kid staring at him. He was no older than 7, maybe 8 years old, but he was not terrified, a little surprised yes, but not scared as everyone would be after seeing a stranger entering through their window. No one mentioned that this Lord Darnay was a fucking child! There was absolutely nothing in the world this boy could do to represent a problem, for anyone, he was barely old enough for school for fuck's sake. 

The knife in his hand felt like lead rather than silver. The room was utterly silent, Aiden looked at the kid expecting him to scream, but he didn't. He simply said: "It's my turn now?" Aiden stared back disoriented, he refused to believe this kid understood why he was there.

"Uncle sent you?" His throat was not fully cooperating and he had a hard time finding the words to answer, he nodded, the dagger in his hand felt heavier by the minute. The kid sitting up on the huge bed keeps worrying a loose thread in the blue blanket above him, he speaks as if he's confessing a terrible sin. "He doesn't like me. He did something to my father but I'm not supposed to speak about it. Dad was very brave. Are you brave?"

Brave, as if! He was sent to slit his throat, that was not bravery. Brave means you have a choice, he never had one. He could choose between Ghouls and Bruxae and humans for his contracts, that's how far his decisions could go. He could pick whether to stay with the Caravan and risk being killed with his brothers or he could travel the Path alone and be killed by a monster or zealous townfolks. At best, he could decide how he dies, certainly not how he lives. No one with a real choice would turn into what he is or do what he does. 

In that room with the boy, in the deep silence of the night with a sliver of moonlight illuminating their surroundings, Aiden felt like a monster. He hadn't felt that way in a long while. It was the first time he was sent to kill an innocent, all the others were different, he felt that the assholes he was sent to murder deserved to finally meet their fate. Not this time though.

A servant entered the room unexpectedly and held back the scream already on his lips. He frantically moved his gaze between the child and Aiden as he started muttering something about how Lord Havilland already killed his own brother. Finally, he understood.

He was sent to kill this kid so a rich Lord could become even richer and more powerful. He couldn't fake another hunting accident so he sent the Witcher to do his bloody job. Great, just great. Nobles and their obsession with money and titles, what did they even do to deserve all they had? Killed someone, won a tournament, led soldiers to be slaughtered in a war for a nameless King that didn't give a fuck about them? They had wealth, titles, castles, a legion of slaves and mages at their service, and yet it was never enough, they wanted more, more wealth, more slaves, more titles, more. Disgusting. They could be anything they wanted to be and yet they decided to be awful.

Aiden spared a glance toward the kid and decided right there and then that this kid was not dying because his uncle was an asshole. "Another one will come to finish my job, he can't stay here." The butler is faster than what he gave him credit to be and answered immediately: "I have a sister in Oxenfurt, she can take care of him." 

"Go then. Get as far away from here as possible." True to his word, the servant took the child and was out of the door in a heartbeat, minutes later Aiden saw them riding past the southern gate. He didn't feel worse, at least and that will have to do for now. The kid will live to see another day. His uncle won't though.